We feature each week Nicholas Reid's reviews and comments on new and recent books
“TUHITUHI – William
Hodges, Cook’s Painter in the South Pacific” by Laurence Simmons (Otago University Press, $NZ60)
We live in an age where
European interpretations of the Pacific, its history and its cultures are no
longer taken for granted as objective records of reality and are no longer
unchallenged. This is especially true of descriptions of “first contact” and
cultural interaction at the time when Europeans were first exploring the
Pacific.
Last year I had the
pleasure of reading both Anne Salmond’s Bligh
– William Bligh in the South Seas and Joan Druett’s Tupaia – The Remarkable Story of Captain Cook’s Polynesian Navigator.
Salmond’s account of the luckless captain [you can find my comments on Bligh via the index at right] adopted a
very even-handed anthropology, glamourising neither the Pacific peoples nor
their European visitors, but making it perfectly clear that Europeans often
misunderstood or misinterpreted Pacific mores. Druett’s book [my review of it
appears in Landfall 223] told of the
Tahitian nobleman who was on the essential Pacific legs of James Cook’s 1769-70
Endeavour voyage. Again, it suggested
many European misunderstandings of the Pacific.
This revisionist view is
powerful and persuasive, although there is always the problem that, having no
written language, the Pacific peoples have not left us any records of how they felt about, or interpreted, the
first generation of Europeans they met. Speculation and inference are therefore
inevitable parts of even the most well-researched attempts to recreate the
human and cultural elements in European Pacific exploration. We know what the
visiting Europeans thought, because they wrote diaries, letters, logs and
memoirs. We have to guess what the Pacific peoples thought, or rely on oral
traditions which are inevitably inflected by the interpretations (and failed
memories) of later generations.
Laurence Simmons’ Tuhituhi is very generally in the same
ball-park as the Salmond and Druett books. This is an account of the English
artist William Hodges, taken on Cook’s 1772-75 Resolution voyage as official landscape painter. According to
Cook’s diary (as quoted on the back cover) “Toetoe” or “Tuhituhi”, meaning
painting or marking, was the name Maori gave Hodges when they saw him at work.
The book is organized into separate chapters chronologically, according to the
successive landfalls of the Resolution
between March 1773 and September 1774. Thus it moves in order from Aotearoa/New
Zealand to Tahiti/the Society Islands; backtracks to take in the Resolution’s two forays into the chilly,
iceberg-laden Southern Ocean; then moves on to Rapa Nui/Easter Island, Te
Fenua’Enata/the Marquesas, Vanuatu/the New Hebrides and Kanaky/New Caledonia.
Simmons, head of the
Film, TV and Media Studies Department at the University of Auckland, is
certainly interested in the Europeans’ cultural perceptions of Pacific peoples;
and Pacific peoples’ cultural perceptions of Europeans. But more than anything
he is interested in Hodges’ art as an example of a European intelligence trying
for the first time to take in the radically different landscapes, seascapes and
cultures that the Pacific offered. Like any artist, Hodges carried with him
preconceptions of how external reality should be represented, and was informed
by specific European art traditions and conventions that shaped how he saw
things.
Simmons at once signals
to us what a unique individual Hodges was. His introduction gives a brief
biography of the man who won respectability as an artist after coming from a
humble background; and who may or may not have committed suicide, after
financial reverses, years after he had returned from the Pacific. But the
introduction also contrasts Hodges’ portraits of Cook and Mai (“Omai”) with the
better-known and more romanticised images of these two men created by Nathaniel
Dance and Sir Joshua Reynolds. Hodges saw neither the “Noble Savage” in Mai nor
the civilizing European “Great Man” in Cook. His portraits bear the mark of
somebody who does not idealise his subjects, but who knew them better than the
other artists did, and in circumstances other than a portrait painter’s studio.
Simmons’ introduction
further tells us his own method. “In each
chapter”, he says “I have
concentrated on an individual painting which I take as emblematic of the work
Hodges did in each location.” Thus it proves as, chapter by chapter, we
follow the Resolution’s course around
the Pacific. One painting for each location is analysed in great detail, but
with reference to the other work Hodges also did in that location. Simmons
further notes that his main purpose is historical, not in the sense of
art-history, but in the sense of “ethnohistoriography”.
What do these paintings say about the state of culture and of cultural
perception?
In this spirit, then,
Simmons picks apart Hodges’ View of
Pickersgill Harbour (Dusky Sound deep in the South Island) to reveal how
Hodges’ chosen viewpoint is intended as a bridge between the known and the
unknown – a way of bringing the viewer
into a totally unfamiliar landscape. Hodges’ depictions of rainbow-covered
waterfalls and of waterspouts in other New Zealand-originated images lead
Simmons to examine 18th century, Enlightenment view of the
“sublime.”
When Simmons views
Hodges’ Tahiti Revisited (1776),
where naked and tattooed Tahitians occupy some of the foreground while
“sublime” Tahitian mountains and trees stand in the background, he analyses it
in terms of what it says about sexuality. For Simmons the landscape the artist
depicts is, in effect, an extension of the bodies in foreground. This leads him
into a long and nuanced account of the sexualization of Pacific landscapes by
European artists, informed by mistaken notions of Pacific peoples as hedonistic
and un-trammelled by any reproving sexual morality (the sort of thing that led
to fantasies about available “dusky maidens”).
By contrast, Hodges’
very large canvas The War Boats of the
Island of Otaheite [Tahiti] makes
Simmons consider how the indigenous implements of war modified such European
dreams of the Pacific as an idyllic paradise. Simmons alludes to the background
of contemporaneous [18th century] European wars and how the martial
virtues were seen by Europeans such as Hodges.
We are shown how Hodges’
images of southern icebergs fed into British theatrical design – the almost
expressionist shapes he gave to the ice were the paradigm for many backdrops.
Hodges’ A View of the Monuments of Easter Island
(1775) drew on the European tradition of memento
mori and the concept of death such as that presented in Poussin’s Et in Arcadia Ego. Even Death is present
in a perceived paradise. Hodges’ painting of the Easter Island monuments is
organized to emphasize impending doom (dark storm clouds lour in the background)
with a human skull near the foreground. It could be taken as an elegy for
something dead or dying, or for a grandeur that was gone from Easter Island.
But Simmons also reads it as a painting catching this particular moment in
European apprehension – the realization that the Pacific was not an eternal
present or an unchanging myth; but that cultures grew and decayed there too.
Later, Simmons links
three separate views by Hodges of Cook’s landings in New Hebrides with
reflections on the nature of first contact and on the way indigenous peoples
viewed the pale-faced newcomers. Ultimately this leads him to consider cargo
cults in 20th century, citing an ingenious anthropologist’s argument
that they are really ways of keeping indigenous culture alive.
The very last chapter of
Tuhituhi attempts to relate Colin
McCahon’s stylised 1964 paintings of waterfalls with Hodges, whom McCahon
declared to be one of his influences.
Tuhituhi
is a book of great scholarship. Numerous critical and historical sources are
cited. It is a book of very close successive readings of each painting. There
is much technical detail on the circumstances in which each work was produced;
some purely aesthetic appreciation; and comparisons with other of Hodges’
works, many of which are also reproduced in the text.
Tuhituhi
is also a work of interpretation. Simmons is very fond of seeing landscape
paintings as metaphors for the human condition or (one of his favourite terms)
as synechdoches, where a particular
image stands for the whole phase through which human society was passing at the
time the image was produced. This approach could be contested as “reading into”
many images abstract values which are not necessarily there. Or it could simply
be an elaboration of the truism that an artist will somehow channel the Zeitgeist of the age in which he lives.
Either way, Tuhituhi opens up the
consciousness of this particular artist and clarifies the context of his works.
There is nothing “innocent” about their images.
I have only one criticism
of Tuhituhi as a piece of book
production. I think the reproductions of the key paintings that are analysed
could have been larger, for ease of reference – perhaps by being printed vertically rather than horizontally, so that their rectangular
shapes took up the whole page. Occasionally I found myself straining to
identify those very features upon which Simmons was commenting.
Apart from this quibble,
Tuhituhi is a handsome hardback which
integrates its many illustrations (maps, charts, sketches and photos as well as
paintings) into the generous and detailed text.
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