Day 131 - Three objects from Oceania
March 4, 2019
Gallery 353 is the first of several rooms devoted to the art of Oceania, an expanse that, as a placard tells me, covers one-third of the earth's surface. Again, the visit entails a lesson in geography, and I frequently walk back and forth between the display cases and a map of the region, to figure out where, exactly, the Marshall Islands, the Solomons, Fiji, Tonga, and many other places are located.
Maybe I knew this, but I'm reminded that, alhough they may have lived in a tropical paradise, these were not necessarily peaceful peoples. The objects on display include three Fijian clubs, and the sign infoms me that the highest status as a warrior was earned by clubbing one's enemy to death. The clubs on view, although elaborately carved and/or inlaid with whalebone ivory, look suitably lethal.
I'm especially impressed by the decorative qualities of three objects, and I can't resist writing about all three of them. The first is a small water container fashioned from a coconut shell, perhaps 6 inches in diameter, that was made in Bougainville Island in the northern Solomons in the 19th century. The coconut shell was covered with the paste of a ground nut and decorated with four encircling quatrefoils, painted and then outlined with tiny white glass beads. A placard notes that decoration adorned both utilitarian and ceremonial objects. I hope this water container was, in fact, used in everyday life; I imagine its simple elegance would have given its user much pleasure.
The second object is a fan of pandanus leaves and black hibiscus fiber that was made in the Marshall Islands in the late 19th or early 20th century. The fan's central "blade" (is that the right term?) is perhaps 14 inches long (the handle adds another four or so inches) and is beautifully woven with plaitings of various thicknesses; at first, it appears to be perfectly bilaterally symmetrical, but it isn't, and this makes it more interesting. The geometic border was made separately and then attached. I read that such fans were used primarily to encourage fires and keep them burning, but that the elaborate decoration of this fan suggests that it was made for personal use, to keep its owner cool. I hope so!
The last object, a tapa cloth waist wrap made in Futuna Island in the late 19th or early 20th century and measuring perhaps 61/2 feet long and 5 feet wide, has personal meaning for me because I also own a piece of tapa cloth -- needless to say, much smaller and simpler -- that I acquired during my first or second trip to Hawaii in the mid-1970s or 1980s. But even if I didn't own such a piece, I would be awed by the care and delicacy with which this cloth has been painted. The central panel comprises 35 squares of two types, arranged in 5 rows and 7 columns. The squares all contain small squares crisscrossed by diagonal lines, but in Type A squares, the diagonal lines are formed by blacked-in areas (it makes me think of a crossword puzzle), while in Type B squares, the diagonals are created by pairs of closely-spacd parallel lines. These two kinds of patterned squares alternate with each other: In rows 1, 3, and 5, the pattern runs ABABABA, while in rows 2 and 4, the pattern is just reversed: BABABAB. This means that each type of square is surrounded on all sides by squares of the other type. The 35 squares are also enclosed by borders of still another design. It all reminds me a bit of a quilt, and I wonder whether the cloth's maker(s) had quilts (perhaps brought by missionaries?) in mind when they made this. In any case, the whole is absolutely remarkable for its planning and execution. Again, I think of the pleasure we take from the repetition of relatively simple geometric forms.
Maybe I knew this, but I'm reminded that, alhough they may have lived in a tropical paradise, these were not necessarily peaceful peoples. The objects on display include three Fijian clubs, and the sign infoms me that the highest status as a warrior was earned by clubbing one's enemy to death. The clubs on view, although elaborately carved and/or inlaid with whalebone ivory, look suitably lethal.
I'm especially impressed by the decorative qualities of three objects, and I can't resist writing about all three of them. The first is a small water container fashioned from a coconut shell, perhaps 6 inches in diameter, that was made in Bougainville Island in the northern Solomons in the 19th century. The coconut shell was covered with the paste of a ground nut and decorated with four encircling quatrefoils, painted and then outlined with tiny white glass beads. A placard notes that decoration adorned both utilitarian and ceremonial objects. I hope this water container was, in fact, used in everyday life; I imagine its simple elegance would have given its user much pleasure.
The second object is a fan of pandanus leaves and black hibiscus fiber that was made in the Marshall Islands in the late 19th or early 20th century. The fan's central "blade" (is that the right term?) is perhaps 14 inches long (the handle adds another four or so inches) and is beautifully woven with plaitings of various thicknesses; at first, it appears to be perfectly bilaterally symmetrical, but it isn't, and this makes it more interesting. The geometic border was made separately and then attached. I read that such fans were used primarily to encourage fires and keep them burning, but that the elaborate decoration of this fan suggests that it was made for personal use, to keep its owner cool. I hope so!
The last object, a tapa cloth waist wrap made in Futuna Island in the late 19th or early 20th century and measuring perhaps 61/2 feet long and 5 feet wide, has personal meaning for me because I also own a piece of tapa cloth -- needless to say, much smaller and simpler -- that I acquired during my first or second trip to Hawaii in the mid-1970s or 1980s. But even if I didn't own such a piece, I would be awed by the care and delicacy with which this cloth has been painted. The central panel comprises 35 squares of two types, arranged in 5 rows and 7 columns. The squares all contain small squares crisscrossed by diagonal lines, but in Type A squares, the diagonal lines are formed by blacked-in areas (it makes me think of a crossword puzzle), while in Type B squares, the diagonals are created by pairs of closely-spacd parallel lines. These two kinds of patterned squares alternate with each other: In rows 1, 3, and 5, the pattern runs ABABABA, while in rows 2 and 4, the pattern is just reversed: BABABAB. This means that each type of square is surrounded on all sides by squares of the other type. The 35 squares are also enclosed by borders of still another design. It all reminds me a bit of a quilt, and I wonder whether the cloth's maker(s) had quilts (perhaps brought by missionaries?) in mind when they made this. In any case, the whole is absolutely remarkable for its planning and execution. Again, I think of the pleasure we take from the repetition of relatively simple geometric forms.
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