Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi, Haukulasi, 1995-2021.
'I believe lalava patterns were a mnemonic device for representing a life philosophy. They advocated balance in daily living and were metaphorical and physical ties to cultural knowledge.'—Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi
The work of tufunga lalava Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi redefines the traditional Tongan form of binding or lashing known as lalava. Alongside coconut sennit, Tohi uses multicoloured wool – a key industry for his adoptive home of Aotearoa New Zealand – bridging ancestral knowledge with a contemporary approach.
'Lalava uses coconut fibre ropes to bind together the framework of houses, to join a canoe to its outrigger, to create tools as well as for a myriad of other uses. Lalava patterns were also frequently used as mnemonic devices that enabled chiefs and tufunga (cultural experts) to pass knowledge from one generation to the next. In this way lalava also binds people and communities together.
Binding and wrapping also enabled the creation and marking of sacred spaces. These ideas have evolved into a contemporary practice within the Pacific region for wrapping/decorating spaces to mark significant events. These visual markers are direct references to ancient patterns that assert Pacific identity.'
Tohi speaks about the structure of lalava aligning with the double helix of DNA, the blueprint for life, as well as with constellations in the night sky that guide navigation. The visual language of lalava is a way of telling stories and passing down cultural knowledge.
Quoted text contributed by Karen Stevenson, Senior Adjunct Fellow, University of Canterbury, Christchurch, New Zealand.
Clare Milledge, Imbás: a well at the bottom of the sea, 2022.
'The installation Imbás: a well at the bottom of the sea draws on the Story of Sinann, an Old Irish story/dindshenchas about the forming of the river Sinnan/Shannon. In the story, the woman Sinnan, a highly accomplished poet seeks imbás/inspiration. She journeys to a well at the bottom of the sea, surrounded by nine musical, magical hazel trees; there she draws imbás from the well in the form of bubbles released by the resident wise salmon, who chew on the hazelnuts fallen from the trees. This imbás/inspiration, previously jealously guarded by magicians is then released for the benefit of the community and forms the river Sinnan.
The connection between rivers, inspiration, poetry, truth-telling and ecology is explored in this work. Suspended glass paintings evoke the story of Sinann using poetic techniques; nine cauldrons stand in for the nine hazel trees at the well; and research notes appear as text on silk fragments. Music and voices of poets and ecologists are combined in a complex sound work triggered by the depth of the water under the floorboards of Pier 2/3.'—Clare Milledge