When Ernesto Ovalle picked up a piece of pounamu over 20 years ago, he had no idea what life-changing journey the stone would take him.
Ovalle, part of the Ngāi Tahu Pounamu authentication scheme, has spent years working hard to restore greenstone and is part of a growing number of tauiwi (non-Māori) working in this space.
Sitting in his small workshop on Karangahape Rd, Ovalle rocks a broken tiki. Where many would see the end of the journey for this taonga, he sees a new beginning.
It’s something he knows all too well from his own life. In 1999, he packed up with his young family and escaped the unstable social and political climate of his home in Colombia, arriving in New Zealand with limited English and no community.
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Ovalle realized how important it was to have a little attachment to the things we consider precious.
Coming from a long line of jewelers, Ovalle landed a job at the Royal Jewelery Studio making contemporary New Zealand jewellery. It was in this job that he had his first encounter with pounamu, through Chaz Doherty, a kaiwhakairo from Ngai Tūhoe, at the Kingsland Jewelery Workshop. They became friends and exchanged jewelry and cutting techniques.
“Chaz brought a piece of tōtara and his chisels and he started showing me how to carve wood and for me it was a new world.”
Ovalle also experimented with bone, but it was greenstone that attracted him. “The greenstone was very special to me,” he said. “It was really appealing to my hands, and I was really on par right away [to it].”
With a thirst for learning, Ovalle left to study whakairo at Tai Poutini Polytechnic in Greymouth and at the Elam School of Fine Arts in Auckland. Since 2006, Ovalle has set up a studio shop on Karangahape Rd called Oro Negro. Before that, he set up stalls in Aotea Square.
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Ernesto Ovalle restores pounamu from his studio on Karangahape Road. (Image description: Ernesto Ovalle is sitting in his workshop, smiling at the camera. He is wearing a blue shirt and apron and holding two pieces of pounamu).
Working with pounamu connected Ovalle with, among others, the Māori and this allowed him to reconnect with his culture and country. He belongs to one of the oldest tribes in South America, the Muisca people, a population that has been drastically reduced by Spanish colonization. “I was very curious about my own culture in the indigenous motives before the colonization”.
The more he learned about Māori and tikanga Māori under the guidance of Poutini Ngāi Tahu, the more he felt connected with tāngata whenua as an indigenous person.
Ovalle has been part of Ngāi Tahu’s Pounamu authentication scheme since 2017, buying from the iwi, the only ethical way to purchase authentic stone.
“[Ovalle] wants to make sure he maintains the integrity of the pounamu…so he is always in contact with us to see if he is allowed to do certain things,” said a spokesman for Ngāi Tahu Pounamu. “He was really great to work with… We highly recommend him [and] support his company.”
Those who wish to purchase raw stone through Ngāi Tahu, the legal guardian of pounamu, should: apply for a license. Candidates who have already had whakairo training tend to be more easily authenticated, but their intentions with the stone are also taken into account. Ngāi Tahu has a strict application process for those who want to work with their stone to ensure tikanga is followed. The iwi said no one on the settlement has ever violated common knowledge.
“A lot of them say they want to do what’s right for the mauri of the stone and make sure the stone is used correctly.” The spokesman for Ngāi Tahu said that non-Māori sculptors are common and common in their whānau and hapū business. “Many of these sculptors have fallen in love with the art form.
“When it comes to cutting our taonga tauiwi, it helps keep our traditions alive, just like when you teach tauiwi how to speak our reo.”
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Ovalle says that the restoration and re-cutting of pounamu has been a part of history, despite some views that broken pounamu should be returned to the awa. (Image description: Close-up of Ovalle’s hands holding pieces of a broken tiki. There are two large repaired mere pounamu in the foreground).
Being able to connect his nativeness with aspects of Māori, among others, has enriched his work and his mind.
“The respect for the living, the respect for the land, the respect for the water, for the rivers, for the mountains … is important to understand the protocols and why the protocols are in effect,” Ovalle said.
“When Māori say Papatūānuku, we say Pachamama… Those are your roots [that go] to the ground to the other side of the world talking to you, your whakapapa talking to you… even if different tribes, different communities and different countries, indigenous peoples are one.”
Ovalle has brought the techniques taught by his kaiako into his studio. “I have the privilege of learning the tikanga and I have great teachers,” he said.
“We carry the stone with a sandstone stick” [as] an act of acknowledging the past. In the past, before colonization, stone files were used to carve pounamu.” While diamond tools are available to Ovalle, the use of sandstone is an acknowledgment of the lineage of makers to him.
Ovalle said that when pounamu breaks, many think it’s the end. “Some people just say it’s not meant to be. You know, you better put it in the ocean [or] get rid of it. But if you look closely at many museums in New Zealand, you will see that restorations have taken place. Restoration is part of the tikanga,” Ovalle taught.
“If you want some of the old tiki . sees [and] you compare the curves of the tiki’s profile, you see a very similar curvature to the blades [of a larger toki blade],” he said.
At art school in Colombia, Ovalle learned how to mount large sculptures in small pedestals, which gave him some techniques for mounting and anchoring pieces. Ovalle makes its own stainless steel wire pins and, combined with chemical expertise and physical precision, ensures the integrity of the restored taonga.
Ngāi Tahu Pounamu’s preference is that the taonga should not be wasted and do their best to chop broken pieces into smaller taonga.
“Some people think of it as, if it breaks, it’s tapu, and it needs to be returned, and that’s a personal preference…if they feel like they need to take it back to the awa, we’ll help with that.” , said Ngāi Tahu spokesman. .
When Ovalle talks about pounamu, his eyes sparkle and he gets excited.
“It can be very spiritual, quite special to restore a piece… I see how the client’s face changes when they see the… [taonga] back on their neck. It’s just remarkable how the pieces help lift the mauri off the wearer.”
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Ovalle can spend up to two weeks on a single restoration. (Image description: Ovalle is in his studio, concentrating on a small patch of pounamu on which he uses a power tool).
When Ovalle is performing a restoration, he talks to the client about the stone’s whakapapa and its importance to the wearer. Most Ovalle restorations are done at night. It gives him the space to think about the work ahead and to connect with his ancestors.
“It’s a very spiritual moment for me to fix something… I’m not allowed to have any distractions,” he said. “I have a little more communication with my grandfather, my uncles, my own whakapapa. I sometimes feel the praise of the old makers [watching over] the top of my shoulder.
“It feels like one or two hours [but] when I look at my clock it is 4 o’clock in the morning. It’s quite remarkable. Time disappears. It’s like a meditation.
“Everything I do in art is just out of love for people, out of love for community, out of love for the humanities, more than anything,” he said.
‘In many cases it’s more than an object, you know? It goes deeper.”
Ovalle has numerous pieces lined up for restoration and this is because it is a time consuming process. It can spend up to two weeks on a single taonga. “I think it’s reasonable that I spend as much time as it takes for each individual piece to be restored,” he said.
“As an artist, as a sculptor, as a jeweler, I want to help express love. I think this is probably one of my missions in life.”
With the broken tiki in the palm of his hand, Ovalle’s eyes follow the break. His brain begins to work out how he will reunite the broken pieces.
And while Ovalle works to heal the fractures in the pounamu, the pounamu has healed the fissures in his life. It has reconnected him with his people, reconnected him with the people of Aotearoa, and reconnected him with his life purpose.