Whakairo: The Art of Māori Carving and the Stories Written in Wood

Whakairo: The Art of Māori Carving and the Stories Written in Wood

How Māori carving developed, what it communicates, and why whakairo remains a living artform in Aotearoa

Walk into a traditional Māori meeting house and one of the first things you notice is the artwork.

Carved figures.

Intricate patterns.

Painted rafters.

Tukutuku panels.

Poupou standing along the walls.

Kōwhaiwhai flowing across the roof beams.

To someone unfamiliar with Māori culture, these details might simply look like decoration.

They are much more than that.

Whakairo — Māori carving — is a way of communicating.

It can preserve whakapapa.

It can represent ancestors.

It can express relationships between people, atua and the natural world.

It can record history.

And it can help turn a building into something far more significant than a building.

It can make it a place where people and stories come together.

Today, whakairo continues to evolve.

Modern carvers use new materials, new tools and new approaches, while continuing to work within a living Māori artistic tradition.

And that evolution has an interesting connection with contemporary Māori design.

Because just as a carved poupou can tell a story, a modern Māori T-shirt can also become a canvas for storytelling.

What Is Whakairo?

Whakairo is the Māori art of carving.

Although wood carving is perhaps the form most people associate with whakairo, Māori carving also exists across a range of materials and objects.

Waka.

Pātaka.

Wharenui.

Pounamu.

Weapons.

Musical instruments.

Adornments.

Tools.

And many other taonga.

Te Ara explains that Māori carving developed from its wider Polynesian origins into distinctive regional styles in Aotearoa. Over time, Māori carvers developed highly sophisticated techniques and visual forms of their own.

This is important.

There isn't one single "Māori carving style".

Different iwi and regions developed their own approaches.

And those differences are part of the richness of whakairo.

The Origins of Māori Carving

Māori carving has its roots in the wider Polynesian world.

The earliest Māori carvings share characteristics with carving traditions elsewhere in Polynesia. Over centuries in Aotearoa, however, those traditions developed into distinctive Māori forms.

The environment played a role.

So did the materials available.

So did the communities who developed and maintained particular artistic traditions.

And so did the stories and whakapapa associated with those communities.

What emerged was a sophisticated visual language that is now immediately recognisable as Māori.

The Story of Ruatepupuke

There are traditional accounts that connect the origins of whakairo with Ruatepupuke.

Te Ara records the story in which Ruatepupuke travelled to the realm of Tangaroa to rescue his son, Manuruhi, and encountered a carved underwater village.

The story is particularly interesting for Wai-Tai because it connects whakairo directly with Tangaroa and the moana.

According to the tradition, knowledge of carving emerged from the underwater world.

Whether approached as whakapapa, pūrākau or cultural narrative, it demonstrates something fundamental about Māori art:

art isn't necessarily separated from the natural and spiritual worlds.

The stories, the people, the atua and the environment can all be connected.

The Wood Came From Tāne

Traditional Māori carving depended upon the forest.

Large trees such as tōtara provided the timber needed for major works.

Te Ara explains that the wood used for carving was associated with Tāne, the atua of the forest, and that special rituals were associated with felling trees for carving.

This gives the material itself significance.

The carver wasn't simply cutting up a piece of timber.

The tree came from the living environment.

The material had a relationship with Tāne.

And once transformed into a carved figure, the timber could take on another significance through the figure it represented.

This is a very different way of thinking about materials from simply viewing wood as a commodity.

The Carver Needed More Than Technical Skill

Whakairo required enormous technical ability.

But becoming a skilled carver involved more than learning how to hold a tool.

Te Ara notes that a carver could spend up to 20 years learning the various aspects of carving.

That tells us something about the depth of the tradition.

The knowledge was substantial.

It involved materials.

Techniques.

Design.

Cultural knowledge.

Tikanga.

And the ability to understand what was appropriate in different contexts.

A master carver wasn't simply a highly skilled tradesperson.

They were a keeper and practitioner of a body of knowledge.

The Tools of the Carver

Traditional Māori carvers worked with tools including stone or pounamu adzes and chisels.

When metal tools became available following European contact, carvers incorporated them into their work.

This is another fascinating example of Māori adaptation.

The arrival of new technology didn't mean that whakairo simply stopped being Māori.

The tools changed.

The artistic tradition continued.

That distinction becomes increasingly important when we look at contemporary Māori design.

Whakapapa Written Into Wood

One of the most powerful roles of whakairo is its ability to communicate whakapapa.

Figures carved into a wharenui can represent ancestors and other important figures.

Te Ara explains that whare whakairo are often named after ancestors and can be understood as embodiments of those ancestors.

This gives the building itself a kind of identity.

A wharenui isn't simply somewhere that people happen to meet.

The building can be understood as an ancestor.

The carvings contribute to that relationship.

The Wharenui as a Body

The symbolism of the wharenui is particularly powerful.

The ridgepole, or tāhuhu, is associated with Ranginui.

The floor represents Papatūānuku.

The supporting posts connect these elements.

Te Ara records traditions in which the whare represents a symbolic body and the relationship between Papatūānuku and Ranginui.

This creates an extraordinary architectural idea.

A building isn't merely constructed.

It can represent a living relationship between people, ancestors, earth and sky.

Whare Whakairo

The whare whakairo, or carved meeting house, is probably the best-known expression of Māori architecture.

But here's an interesting historical detail:

The large elaborately carved meeting houses that we now associate strongly with Māori architecture aren't actually an unchanged ancient form.

Te Ara explains that whare whakairo emerged in their recognisable large-scale form during the mid-19th century, when Māori communities were experiencing enormous social and political change.

Communities needed places where people could gather and discuss major issues.

The architecture evolved accordingly.

The East Coast and Whare Whakairo

This has particular relevance to Wai-Tai.

Te Ara records that whare whakairo began appearing on the East Coast of the North Island in the early 1840s, an area with a strong carving tradition.

The story of Māori carving in Te Tairāwhiti is therefore not some distant historical subject.

It is part of the cultural history of the region where Wai-Tai was born.

Rongopai and the Creative Response to Change

The history of Māori carving isn't a simple story of uninterrupted tradition.

The 19th century brought enormous disruption.

Colonisation.

Land loss.

Christianity.

New political realities.

New materials.

New artistic influences.

Māori artists responded in different ways.

Te Ara discusses the development of painted meeting houses associated particularly with the work and influence of Te Kooti, including Rongopai at Waituhi near Gisborne and Te Poho-o-Materoa at Awapuni.

These houses incorporated painted imagery alongside traditional forms.

They demonstrate that Māori artists weren't simply copying the past.

They were responding creatively to the world around them.

Tradition Doesn't Mean Standing Still

This is perhaps one of the most important lessons in the history of Māori art.

Tradition is sometimes misunderstood as meaning:

"Do exactly what your ancestors did."

But Māori artistic history tells a more complicated story.

Materials changed.

Tools changed.

Architectural forms changed.

Artistic techniques changed.

New ideas were incorporated.

And artists responded to new circumstances.

Yet the art remained connected to Māori identity and knowledge.

Kōwhaiwhai: Stories in Flowing Lines

Whakairo isn't the only art form found inside a wharenui.

Look above the walls and you may see kōwhaiwhai.

These are painted patterns traditionally used particularly on the rafters of meeting houses.

The flowing designs are visually distinctive and can vary between iwi and contexts.

They are another example of Māori visual language being integrated into architecture.

Rather than being an isolated picture on a wall, the design becomes part of the building itself.

Tukutuku: Weaving Into the Walls

Then there are tukutuku panels.

These intricate woven panels sit between the carved posts of many wharenui.

They add colour, texture and pattern.

But they also demonstrate something important about Māori art:

different artistic practices work together.

Whakairo.

Tukutuku.

Kōwhaiwhai.

Architecture.

They aren't necessarily separate disciplines.

Together they create the visual and cultural environment of the wharenui.

Women and Tukutuku

The history of tukutuku also challenges some simplistic ideas about Māori art being exclusively the domain of men.

During the 20th-century revival of Māori arts associated with Āpirana Ngata, women were actively involved in producing tukutuku panels.

Te Ara records how Ngata encouraged women to develop and pass on their expertise and devised freestanding frames that allowed women to construct panels away from the restricted building site before they were installed.

This became an important part of the wider revival of Māori arts.

The Māori Arts Revival

By the early 20th century, many traditional Māori artistic practices were under significant pressure.

Āpirana Ngata recognised that revitalising Māori arts could strengthen communities as well as preserve artistic knowledge.

In 1927, a school of Māori arts and crafts was established.

The programme trained carvers, tukutuku practitioners and others and helped communities construct new whare whakairo and wharekai.

The impact extended far beyond the buildings themselves.

A new generation learned the skills.

Those people taught others.

Knowledge continued.

Whakairo Becomes a Living Tradition Again

The revival demonstrates something fundamental about cultural knowledge.

Preservation doesn't necessarily mean putting something behind glass.

Sometimes the best way to preserve an artform is to keep practising it.

Keep teaching it.

Keep adapting it.

Keep creating new work.

That is exactly what happened with whakairo.

And it is still happening today.

Māori Carving in the Modern World

Contemporary Māori carvers aren't restricted to recreating historic objects.

They work across architecture, sculpture, public art, contemporary design and many other forms.

Te Ara documents the development of Māori carving in urban environments and the emergence of new forms of marae and contemporary Māori architecture.

This is another example of the adaptability we've encountered throughout The Wai-Tai Journal.

Māori art can exist in a traditional setting.

It can exist in an urban environment.

And it can exist in contemporary commercial and creative spaces.

New Materials, New Possibilities

One particularly interesting example is Te Hono ki Hawaiki, the meeting house at Te Papa.

When it opened in 1997, master carver Cliff Whiting and his team used customwood/MDF rather than relying solely on increasingly scarce native timbers.

Image of Te Hono ki Hawaiki from Te Ara https://teara.govt.nz/en/photograph/43114/modern-marae-te-hono-ki-hawaiki

The new material allowed them to create dramatic three-dimensional effects and use colours unavailable to earlier carvers. 

Think about what that tells us.

Using a modern material did not automatically make the artwork less Māori.

Instead, the material opened up new artistic possibilities.

Māori Art Is Still Evolving

This is particularly relevant in 2026.

Te Papa is about to open He Toi Whakairo: The Art of Māori Carving, a major long-term exhibition bringing together 147 taonga spanning seven centuries. It opens on 29 August 2026 and includes both historic works and contemporary carving.

The exhibition's very premise is important.

Māori carving isn't being presented as a dead historical tradition.

It is described by Te Papa as a living, evolving artform.

That is exactly the way we should understand it.

From Whakairo to Contemporary Design

So what does all of this have to do with a Māori clothing brand?

Quite a lot.

Because contemporary Māori clothing is another place where visual storytelling can happen.

A T-shirt isn't a wharenui.

A hoodie isn't a carved poupou.

A boardshort isn't a traditional kākahu.

They shouldn't be presented as though they are.

But a piece of contemporary clothing can still carry an idea.

It can represent a place.

A creature.

A relationship.

A story.

A value.

An identity.

The medium has changed.

The principle of communicating through visual design hasn't.

Clothing as a Contemporary Canvas

At Wai-Tai, this is one of the ideas behind our approach to design.

The garment is modern.

The materials are modern.

The silhouettes are modern.

The printing techniques are modern.

But the stories and inspirations behind the artwork come from Aotearoa and Te Ao Māori.

Our adult T-shirt collection, for example, includes original artwork inspired by the moana, whakapapa, taniwha, kaitiaki, tipua and traditional Māori design influences.

 

Explore Wai-Tai Māori T-Shirts

The Artist Matters

Just as the identity of a traditional carver matters, the people creating contemporary Māori artwork matter too.

Wai-Tai's adult T-shirt collection includes designs by Māori artists Maia Gibbs and Henare Brooking from Te Tairāwhiti, both of whom are known for their work as tā moko artists.

Image from Monster Children https://www.monsterchildren.com/articles/maia-gibbs-on-bringing-maori-art-to-the-forefront-of-quiksilvers-latest-collection-tai-kehu

That connection to place is important.

The artwork isn't being developed in some anonymous global design studio and simply labelled "Māori".

It comes from artists with their own relationship to Aotearoa and Te Tairāwhiti.

Whai: A Contemporary Example

One example is Wai-Tai's Whai artwork.

The whai — stingray or skate — is strongly associated with the coastal environment.

Wai-Tai has previously explored the whai as a symbol connected with the moana, strength, protection and connection in Te Ao Māori.

The resulting artwork becomes a contemporary visual expression.

It isn't a traditional carving.

It doesn't claim to be.

It is a modern piece of Māori-inspired artwork created for modern clothing.

Explore the Wai-Tai Whai Collection

Tohu and the Idea of Signs

Another important word in the Wai-Tai design language is tohu.

Tohu can refer to a sign, mark, indication or symbol depending on context.

That makes it an interesting concept when thinking about visual communication.

A mark can tell you something.

A symbol can carry an idea.

A design can become recognisable.

And a piece of clothing can become a way of expressing identity.

Wai-Tai's Tohu range brings this concept into contemporary streetwear through T-shirts, caps and other pieces.

Kaitiaki as Visual Storytelling

The same applies to kaitiaki.

Kaitiakitanga has been an important theme throughout The Wai-Tai Journal because it connects so strongly with the relationship between Māori and the natural world.

Wai-Tai's Kaitiaki designs bring that idea into contemporary apparel.

The current range includes heavyweight hoodies, T-shirts, rash tops and technical boardshorts.

Explore the Wai-Tai Kaitiaki Collection

Why We Should Be Careful With Māori Designs

There is an important distinction between understanding Māori visual language and simply using Māori-looking patterns.

Māori art has context.

Different iwi and hapū have their own histories and artistic traditions.

A pattern that looks attractive to someone unfamiliar with Māori culture may have a particular meaning or association that isn't immediately obvious.

That is why responsible contemporary Māori design should involve understanding the stories behind the artwork rather than treating Māori motifs as generic decoration.

There Isn't One Universal Māori Pattern

This is worth emphasising.

You will sometimes see websites claiming things like:

"This Māori pattern always means strength."

Or:

"This symbol means family."

Or:

"This spiral represents X."

These statements can be dangerously simplistic.

Māori visual traditions are not one universal dictionary where every shape has exactly one translation.

Meaning can depend upon:

  • iwi
  • hapū
  • artist
  • context
  • history
  • placement
  • the story being represented

That complexity is part of what makes the artform interesting.

Regional Styles Matter

Te Ara's research into whakairo shows that Māori carving developed distinctive regional styles over time.

The differences can be subtle to an untrained eye.

But to people familiar with particular traditions, they can be significant.

This is particularly important for a brand like Wai-Tai, because our own connection is strongly rooted in Te Tairāwhiti.

We don't need to claim that every Māori design represents every iwi.

Instead, we can tell the stories behind the specific artwork and the artists who create it.

Te Tairāwhiti and Māori Art

The East Coast has a particularly rich history of Māori art.

The region produced influential carvers and some of the country's most significant examples of Māori architecture.

Te Ara notes that the East Coast was a strong centre of carving when whare whakairo began developing in the 19th century.

That history continues to influence the cultural identity of the region.

For Wai-Tai, that's part of what makes designing and creating clothing here meaningful.

Art and Identity

Perhaps the biggest connection between whakairo and contemporary Māori clothing is identity.

Traditional carvings could tell people:

Who are we?

Where do we come from?

Who are our ancestors?

What relationships do we have?

What stories do we carry?

Contemporary clothing can ask similar questions.

Not in exactly the same way.

But it can still allow someone to say:

This is part of who I am.

This place matters to me.

These stories matter to me.

Wearing a Story

That's why the phrase "wear your story" resonates so strongly with us at Wai-Tai.

Clothing is something we carry into the world.

A T-shirt might represent the ocean.

A hoodie might represent guardianship.

A graphic might represent a creature.

A design might connect us with a particular place.

A piece of clothing might remind someone of home.

And sometimes someone sees the artwork and asks:

"What's the story behind that?"

That's when design becomes conversation.

The Modern Equivalent of a Storyteller?

It would be wrong to suggest that a T-shirt is somehow equivalent to a traditional carved meeting house.

It isn't.

The cultural significance and context are completely different.

But there is a useful parallel in the broader idea of visual storytelling.

Traditional whakairo communicates through form, pattern and figure.

Contemporary Māori artists can communicate through painting, photography, digital art, tattoo, fashion and graphic design.

The creative medium changes.

The human desire to communicate remains.

From the Wharenui to the Street

Māori visual culture now exists in places our ancestors could never have imagined.

On city buildings.

In galleries.

On murals.

On digital screens.

In animation.

On social media.

And on T-shirts walking down the street.

That doesn't necessarily mean traditional art has been replaced.

It means Māori creativity has expanded into new spaces.

The Future of Māori Design

The future is unlikely to look exactly like the past.

And that's okay.

Traditional carving will continue.

Weaving will continue.

Marae will continue.

But Māori artists will also continue experimenting with new technologies and materials.

Some will work digitally.

Some will work in fashion.

Some will work in architecture.

Some will combine traditional practices with contemporary art.

Some will create things that haven't been imagined yet.

That is what a living culture does.

What Whakairo Teaches Us About Creativity

There is a lesson here that extends beyond Māori art.

Great creative traditions survive because they are used.

They aren't merely admired.

They're practised.

Taught.

Adapted.

Questioned.

Reinterpreted.

And passed on.

Whakairo survived enormous social change because people continued to practise it.

The Māori arts revival of the 20th century showed what happens when knowledge is deliberately supported and passed to a new generation.

The Story Doesn't End With the Past

If you walk into a wharenui and see generations of stories represented around you, you're looking at history.

But you're also looking at something alive.

The people who built it had their own world.

The people who maintain it have theirs.

And the people who add to Māori artistic traditions today will leave something for generations that haven't arrived yet.

That's the nature of a living artform.

Whakairo and Wai-Tai

For Wai-Tai, contemporary Māori design is part of this much larger story.

We aren't trying to reproduce traditional whakairo on a T-shirt.

We're creating contemporary clothing.

But we're inspired by the same broad world of Aotearoa, moana, whakapapa, identity and storytelling that has influenced Māori creative expression for generations.

Our Māori T-shirts are one expression of that approach, while our hoodies, boardshorts, caps and rash tops allow those stories to move into different parts of everyday life.

From Carved Timber to Cotton

A carved tōtara poupou and a heavyweight cotton T-shirt might seem to have almost nothing in common.

Technically, they don't.

One can take years of highly specialised carving.

The other is modern apparel.

But both can become a canvas for identity.

Both can carry visual language.

Both can tell stories.

And both can connect people with ideas that are bigger than the object itself.

That is the part of the story that interests us.

A Living Artform

Whakairo has survived because Māori artists have continued to create.

They have learned from those who came before them.

They have developed their own styles.

They have responded to changing circumstances.

And they have embraced new possibilities.

Te Papa's upcoming He Toi Whakairo exhibition makes this point beautifully by bringing together seven centuries of Māori carving, including works by contemporary artists.

Seven centuries.

One artform.

Still evolving.

The Next Chapter

Perhaps the most exciting thing about Māori visual culture is that we don't know exactly what the next chapter will look like.

It might be carved in wood.

Woven from fibre.

Painted on a wall.

Tattooed onto skin.

Printed onto fabric.

Created digitally.

Or something that doesn't exist yet.

What we do know is that Māori artists will continue telling stories.

And as long as those stories continue to be created, Māori visual culture will remain a living part of Aotearoa.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is whakairo?

Whakairo is the Māori art of carving. Māori carving developed from wider Polynesian traditions into distinctive forms in Aotearoa and is found across objects including meeting houses, waka, pātaka, weapons and taonga.

What is a whare whakairo?

A whare whakairo is a carved meeting house. These buildings are often associated with ancestors and can symbolically represent aspects of Māori cosmology and whakapapa.

What is tukutuku?

Tukutuku are woven lattice panels commonly found within wharenui. They form part of the wider decorative and storytelling environment alongside whakairo and kōwhaiwhai.

What is kōwhaiwhai?

Kōwhaiwhai refers to the painted patterns traditionally associated particularly with the rafters of wharenui. They form another important component of Māori visual art and architectural design.

Are Māori carving designs the same throughout Aotearoa?

No. Māori carving developed distinctive regional and iwi styles over time. Treating all Māori visual designs as one universal style oversimplifies a much richer artistic tradition.

Is Māori carving still practised today?

Yes. Whakairo remains a living and evolving artform, with contemporary carvers continuing to develop new work while engaging with traditional knowledge. Te Papa's He Toi Whakairo exhibition in 2026 specifically brings together historical and contemporary examples.

Sources & Further Reading



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