Cardboard, chandeliers and a can of spray paint are not traditional Māori art materials. But for these Māori artists, such materials reflect contemporary Māori life and environments, often seen through a customary Māori lens. Contemporary materials let new and old coexist, carrying whakapapa (genealogy) and mātauranga Māori (knowledge) into the present and towards future generations. 

We chat with Hiria Anderson, Reweti Arapere, Zena Elliott, Reuben Paterson and Raukura Turei about artmaking, kaupapa (principles) and what inspires their distinctly Aotearoa New Zealand artwork. 

Listen to waves crash at Te Henga (Bethells Beach) as Raukura Turei scoops up black sand to be used in her moody, ethereal paintings. Watch Reuben Paterson explain how glitter in all sorts of forms became his signature material, and the legend behind his sparkling crystal waka (canoe) sculpture. 

Together, these Māori artists show how contemporary art can tell stories and explore concepts that are anything but new. Step inside their studios to hear it firsthand. 

In Hiria Anderson’s paintings, it’s the small things that matter. Pots, kitchenware and quiet moments of Māori life become still-life scenes loaded with memory and whakapapa. 

Anderson (Ngāti Rereahu, Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Apakura) grew up with her grandparents, immersed in traditional whakairo (carving) and raranga (weaving). She uses photography to capture the spaces and taonga that feel familiar, and carries them forward through paint. 

‘I collect those for the next generation,’ the Ōtorohanga-based artist tells Auckland Art Gallery. Her work turns everyday objects into bridges between past, present and future. 

Reweti Arapere’s work looks like street art at first glance – bright felt-tip colour, bold lines and graffiti-style forms. Look closer, and the stories are much older. 

Arapere (Ngāti Raukawa, Ngāti Tūwharetoa, Ngāti Porou) uses cardboard and felt pens to tell stories of whakapapa, creation and connection. His visual language is shaped by hip-hop and graffiti culture, but the kaupapa behind the work comes from his tūpuna.  

‘When your ancestors call you to do this type of art, you should do it,’ the New Plymouth artist tells Auckland Art Gallery in te reo Māori. 

Watch Arapere reflect on how street art, whakapapa and ancestral stories come together in his practice. 

Zena Elliott’s art is loud in the best way. Bright acrylic paint and strong line work combine with Māori motifs drawn from their whakapapa (Ngāti Awa, Ngāi Te Rangi, Te Whānau ā Apanui, Ngāti Rangitihi).  

When seeking inspiration, Elliott looks to the wharenui (meeting houses) carved by their tūpuna, borrowing haehae line work and iwi-specific patterns. Next: dial up the colour. 

The aim is to use art to keep Māori stories visible, relevant and easy to connect with. ‘If a carving of a tūpuna, or one of my ancestors, tells a great story, it would inspire the younger generation as well,’ they tell Auckland Art Gallery. 

Take a tour inside Elliott’s colourful art studio. 

Reuben Paterson has never been able to escape sparkle. It was the shimmering black sand that stained his feet as a child, and now shows up as crystal chandeliers and glitter in his artwork. Now based in New York, Paterson draws on both the natural world and his Māori heritage (Ngāti Rangitihi, Ngāi Tūhoe, Tūhourangi, Scotland), weaving ancestral stories into dazzling contemporary artworks.  

One of his most ambitious works, Guide Kaiārahi, 2021, is a 10-metre-tall crystal waka. In the video, Reuben shares the story behind the work: an apparition of a waka seen on Lake Tarawera just days before the eruption of Mount Tarawera in 1886. The vision became an omen that would deeply affect his father’s iwi. 

‘It was an omen of an eruption to come,’ says Paterson. ‘But it can also be scientifically explained.’ 

Watch Reuben reflect on the legend of Lake Tarawera’s phantom canoe, and on how moments of sparkle continue to shape his work today. 

Take a peek into Raukura Turei’s studio and you might mistake her for a geologist. Chunky rocks, powdered clay and glittering black sand fill the space, as if she were studying them. Instead, they will become her pigments – all gathered from places tied to her whakapapa (Ngā Rauru Kītahi, Taranaki, Ngāti Pāoa, Ngāi Tai ki Tāmaki).

Rather than painting about the land, Turei paints with it, pressing, brushing and layering earth-based pigments onto the surface. She allows time, gravity and touch to do their part. 

Her work is carefully considered, right down to the smallest detail. In one large-scale painting, she saves a tiny corner for glittering onepū (ironsand) – a quiet nod to the cosmos and the asteroid dust beyond Earth. For Turei, working with whenua (the land) is both grounding and empowering. ‘One spoonful at a time,’ she says, ‘you can really connect with the place that is yours.’ 

In this video, the Auckland artist reflects on her influences of atua wāhine (Māori goddesses), te ao Māori (Māori worldview) and motherhood.