In Hienghène, the Goa ma Bwarhat provincial cultural center is celebrating its 40th anniversary. This Mecca for training sculptors in the 90s is trying to revitalize the activity, with residencies and exhibitions throughout the year. From cutting the wood to the final work, focus on this know-how, from Ponérihouen to Hienghène.
“A people who do not create are a people on borrowed time. They wait their turn to die. We refuse this destiny.” A quote from Jean-Marie Tjibaou relayed by the Hienghène cultural center to illustrate the resumption of its programming in September, after the events of May.
The Goa ma Bwarhat center, named after the two major chiefdoms of the commune, celebrated its fortieth anniversary in 2024.
Exhibitions, shows and artist residencies are offered there all year round to promote and transmit Kanak culture and art.
Among the permanent residents in Hienghène, a sculptor manages to earn his living by perpetuating the know-how of the elders. “I don't know how others use the spiritual side of objects, but for me, carving a face, a piece of wood, is remembering the history of our elders.”says Albert Tein.
“These are pieces which have a strong value. Which represent the gods, the ancestors of the time. It is really linked to reality and the beliefs of the old people”agrees Jean-Mathias Djaiwe, director of the cultural center.
In 2003, Waia Marempon became interested in sculpture and learned from the elders. The fifty-year-old from the Néouta tribe in Ponérihouen wants to pass on his knowledge. Accompanied by his son, the sculptor goes in search of the ideal wood, in a forest ten minutes from their home.
“We should not use just any wood to carve, lance Waia Marempon. There are several criteria for choosing the right wood.” It is on a branch of petroleum wood, a soft and easy to work species that he sets his sights.
“We only collect dry wood to avoid cutting down those that are still green in nature. We also use driftwood, thrown away by the sea. We give them a second life,” continues the sculptor from Néouta.
Oil wood because tussock wood, once favored for its symbolic and sacred values, is becoming difficult to find. “The big sawmill in the 90s cut everything down. I don't think there are many left, it's very rare to see them here.”
Back at home, Waia Marempon barks her piece of wood. He is one of the few who can make a living from his art. “I'm a guy with no background, I don't have a diploma. So to make money I learned to sculpt, so that at the same time the money comes home, to safeguard our cultural heritage and share .”
The profession of sculptor attracts little, and few make a living from it. Since the opening of the cultural center forty years ago, artists “were forced to look for other work to support themselves”admits Jean-Mathias Djaiwe, director of the provincial cultural center Go ma Bwarhat.
Sculptors still in activity adapt to meet customer demand, by creating scale models with an ornamental purpose. Albert Tein recognizes that “the sculpture has become a commercial object”.
Energizing sculpture and bringing this age-old knowledge to life is a long-term project carried out by a handful of enthusiasts on the east coast of New Caledonia.
