Te Here Whakapapa
The name Te Here Whakapapa speaks to the binding threads of lineage and connection. “Here” means to tie or bind, and “whakapapa” refers to genealogy, the layers of connection that link people across generations. This set was created to honour a single piece of Pounamu that had been held by this whānau for decades, now transformed into taonga for a mother and her sons. Though the stone has been divided, its origin remains the same — a reminder that no matter where life takes them, they are forever connected through their shared whakapapa.

Pounamu carries a deep sense of time and connection. Formed over millions of years, it holds within it the story of the whenua. When a single piece is carved into multiple taonga, that connection becomes something physical and enduring. Each member of the whānau carries their own piece, yet all are tied back to the same source. It’s a powerful way of keeping that bond close, especially as families grow and move through different stages of life.



For the mother, I carved a large kōuma-style koru, 95mm across. This piece sits close to the heart like a breastplate, symbolising protection, strength, and the role she holds at the centre of her whānau. The sweeping koru flows inward, representing growth, nurturing, and the way everything returns to that central point of connection.



For one of her sons, I carved a manaia, 70mm long, featuring a bird-like head, flowing body, and fish-like tail, with a pāua shell eye set into the form. The manaia is a guardian figure, traditionally seen as a kaitiaki that moves between realms. It represents protection and guidance, watching over the wearer as they navigate their own path.



Another son received a niho, also 70mm long. The niho, or tooth, symbolises strength, resilience, and courage. It’s a simple, grounded form that carries a strong presence — a reminder of inner strength and the ability to endure and push forward.



For the third son, a polished slice of the original stone was left as a natural piece to be kept on display. Even without carving, it carries the same wairua and connection, showing that sometimes the stone itself holds everything that needs to be said.
I also documented the full process of creating this set — from the raw stone as it arrived, through cutting and selecting each slice, to shaping, carving, and finishing each taonga. There’s something special about seeing that full transformation. What begins as a rough, unassuming stone becomes something deeply personal and meaningful, carrying both the past of the stone and the future of the people it belongs to.



















This was a special one to carve. Taking something that had already been part of this whānau’s story and helping shape it into taonga that will continue that story forward is always a privilege.

