Persistent Patterns – Ta Moko's Journey Through European Visual Mediums
Introduction:
Ta Moko is a traditional tattooing practice of the Māori people of Aotearoa and has long functioned as an indelible script, heavily embedded with motifs of genealogy, status, and personal legacy. The earliest European pictorial representation of the Māori people in Abel Tasman’s travel journal and the extensive observations of their appearance lack mention of any tattooing or body modifications, likely because Moko didn’t exist yet.1 It wasn’t until Captain Cook’s voyages that we gained access to recorded information on this practice. Moko’s flowing spirals and curvilinear elements served as a visual language for the oral narration of ancestral histories.
With the influx of European colonial incursions to the Pacific in the beginning of the 18th century, this practice has been eroded due to impending missionary zeal and legislative oppression (such as the Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907) seeking to excise its presence from the Māori community. Yet Moko persisted, consistently adapting and changing under the new values the European colonizers enforced. I will examine how European colonial and ethnographic encounters transformed the use of Ta Moko to various European visual mediums (paper and ink, plaster sculptures, and photographic postcards), specifically in practice in Hongi Hika’s Grant of land at Kerikeri, the Bust of Tupai, and New Zealand Tourist Department’s photographic postcard of Wetani Rore Tatangi. I will further examine the effects of these transformations by observing the spectrum of cultural negotiation, where Ta Moko was simultaneously appropriated by colonial systems, yet sometimes repurposed to preserve elements of Māori identity. Each medium represents a distinct form of translation that reflects varying degrees of Māori agency, where in land deeds, Moko signatures became tools of colonial bureaucracy and acts of self-assertion; in sculpture, it became decontextualized through idealizations and stripped away from authentic identity; and in photographic portrait postcards, the Moko was commodified for tourist consumption yet provided unexpected avenues for potential reclamation.
Captain Cook’s voyage observations in 1769 were one of the earliest documentations of Ta Moko and began as a romanticized curiosity to the European newcomers. According to Douglas, in Sydney Parkinson’s journals, figures were drawn, “despite the lack of individual physiognomy [and] these faces [were] not racial types. Rather, they served as blank canvases for the replication of typical varieties of Māori dress, hair style, ornaments and the startling facial tattoo called Moko.”2 The isolation between the individual and their customary appearances became a way for Europeans to dissociate the Māori from their identity and instead view them as objectified artistic products. In Joseph Bank’s journals detailing his observations of Ta Moko, he writes, “yet ugly as this certainly looks it is impossible to avoid admiring the immence Elegance and Justness of the figures.”3 His language represents the contradicting sentiments of Europeans when approaching Ta Moko.
The practice of Moko stems from the origins of the legend of Mataora and Niwareka in which the Moko was granted as a gift of penance and privilege to the Māori. For centuries after the start of this practice, Moko became a symbol of identity and mana (ancestral power), and was carved into the skin of chiefs and warriors as an articulation of ancestry, prestige, and obligation. Unfortunately, under the presence of European influences, it became an object of divergency. Although European explorers and settlers were highly interested in documenting and dissecting this practice, it was reduced to a curiosity and started to become exoticized even amongst the European’s dehumanization of its practitioners.
The process of inking Ta Moko is distinct from the practice of punctured tatau often found in the Pacific. The process is performed by a tohunga-Ta-Moko (skilled, knowledgeable practitioner of the Moko) who meticulously carves intricate three dimensional designs into the skin of the recipient using an uhi (chisel) and mahoe (mallet) dipped in ink made from charcoal. The procedure of receiving the Moko is both a physical and spiritual commitment that is withstood communally with the presence of the iwi (tribe) and whānau (family) present in the ritual. It is also considered tapu (sacred or restricted due to potential spiritual potency) to touch the face while blood was being shed due to the sacred nature of the head in Māori culture, so often the korere (feeding funnel) was employed by the whānau or iwi to assist in nourishing the recipient without violating the sacredness of the ritual. The process itself of receiving Ta Moko is one that extends beyond individual identity, but it also embraces ceremony and community. Moko was more than a mere ornamental adornment process, but should be viewed as a living archive. It is thought to delineate rank and whakapapa (genealogy) and to wear the Moko was to declare one’s place within their ancestral continuum. These traditions wavered and were heavily tested by the European forces that sought to overwrite them.
In 1814, the incursion of Christianity initiated a start to the ideological assault. Followed by a wave of suppression, Christian missionaries condemned the Moko as a remnant of paganism and an affront to the decorum of European civilization, and in the words of Elder Samuel Marsden of Church Missionary Society, “a very foolish and ridiculous custom.”4 This condemnation likely stemmed from the passage in the Bible, which states, “You shall not make any cuts on your body for the dead or tattoo yourselves; I am the Lord.”5 The criticism and subsequent decline in the practice of Ta Moko during this period can also be perceived within the context of colonial assimilation efforts where missionaries and settlers aimed to homogenize and adopt European customs.
Use of Ta Moko as Signatures in land deeds
The implementation of the Moko onto paper offered Māori a semblance of legitimacy within the systems of European communication. It became a way to tether together the Pākehā and Māori relationship through gain and use of territory. The 1819 Grant of Land at Keri Keri (fig. 1) serves as an example of how Ta Moko was repurposed under colonial pressures into a bureaucratic instrument. The missionaries in the North were the first to begin purchasing land from the Māori, so when a new group of Europeans arrived in 1819, Hongi Hika, attuned to the shifting political landscape, recognized the opportunity they presented him with. According to Jones, “Annoyed by Marsden's rule against gun repair at the Oihi forge, Hongi knew that having Pākehā closer at hand was the access key to new technologies…[and] was quick to offer a base for them closer to his seasonal kainga, Kororipo, up the Kerikeri river.”6
This deed was signed with the Moko-inspired signature of Hongi Hika who was the chief of Ngapuhi and it denoted his whakapapa and mana. It became a component of the written and painted form of Ta Moko which wasn’t the typical inscription onto skin with chisels and soot. Hika’s Moko was reconfigured into ink on paper, dislodging it from its original ceremonial context, and repurposing it to authorize land alienation which was a large inversion from its intended role. The Moko here was deployed to legitimize the transactions that severed Māori from their whenua (land) and this action recontextualized a sacred tradition within the apparatus of European legal and property systems.
The deed shows densely packed cursive script rendered on parchment, and is dominated by English legalese affirming the land transfer between Hongi Hika and the Church Missionary Society. The calligraphic hand holds a consistent slant, flourishing capitals, and fluid ligatures which show the visual markers of British literacy and order. Under this script, on the bottom right of the paper, lies a striking interruption where along the bottom of the deed, in between the words, “The Signature of” and “Shunghee Heeka” the scrolled notations that replace typical European signatures show a sharp divergence from the expected formality. The positioning of the Moko within the two fragments of English denotations allows for an interaction where Māori graphic expression momentarily disrupts the influence of the English written word. It asserts a presence that refuses to be fully translated into the bureaucratic language. Hongi Hika’s Moko was self-transposed into a miniature form and reflects the flowing, curvilinear design that holds an asymmetrical quality. The design drawn extends beyond just the nose and traces through to his cheeks and forehead creating a template-like effect for his facial features. The Moko seems to be done not in haste, but careful delineation and according to Jones, “the time required for Hongi to execute the details of his tohu (sign, signature), dipping the quill several times into a pot of ink, would have extended the ritual of the ‘sale’ process and the solemn binding together of the parties.”7 There is a clear vertical splitting of Hika’s Moko in half, however asymmetry is notable, with the Moko on the right half of the face dominating with its pronounced curvilinear ridges extending horizontally. It suggests that the tattoo would follow along Hika’s cheekbone and the mouth, with a heavier emphasis on the right half of his face. Its elongated spirals gesture towards the musculature of the jaw and makes a suggestion at the three dimensional presence of the face beneath the mark. There is a delicate balance between abstraction and anatomical suggestion.
The Moko on the bottom left of the deed belonged to rangatira Rewa and is more compact in structure. At first glance, it appears to form two mirrored halves of a heart, but the symmetry is deceiving. It shows two lobe of the halves with tight koru-like spirals which resist any Western reading of the shape as merely aesthetic. Unlike Hika’s, Rewa’s drawn Moko-signature only shows the markings that would have been on his nose. The difference between the two Moko marks may show different parts of the facial tattoo, and may refer to a difference in status, but they both act as a visual assertion of Māori translation and fragmentation. Both Mokos embed identity into the record in a way that defies cultural erasure.
It could also be argued as a function or form of self-portraiture which creates an intimate connection between the body and the document. The Moko could be seen as a reiteration of self, and the act of drawing it onto a foreign legal document could transform the deed into a canvas for image and assertion. European settler’s land purchase created a written and painted form of Ta Moko that wasn’t familiar prior to European arrival. The Church Missionary Society’s preservation and archival treatment of this land deed further shows the colonial appetite for transforming the Māori cultural practices into legible documents, where the document itself adopts the structural syntax of British legal documents. It adopts a visual aesthetic mirroring the cursive script and seals.
Hongi Hika’s Moko-signature becomes a dual signifier where it becomes both a visual shorthand of authenticity, yet it also functions in a meaningful way for Māori to tangibly inscribe their presence onto unfamiliar mediums of governance and exchange. The flattening and stylizing of its form may sever it from the tohunga who would have chiseled it, the ceremony accompanying it, and the iwi witnessing it, showing the Moko’s migration onto paper may embody a distortion. However, even in this new form, the Moko resists complete absorption into colonial epistemologies and still reclaimed it to affirm identity, whakapapa, and cultural continuity.
The translation of Moko into bureaucratic media may distort its spiritual and communal functions but also offers Māori a means to assert themselves into a rapidly transforming world. The Moko, though voluntary in form, could be interpreted as a form of signature and self-portraiture which incorporated tatauo practices into the formalization of European bureaucratic systems.
Use of Ta Moko in sculptures
The Bust of Tupai (fig. 2) is a painted plaster sculpture rendered by Nelson Illingworth in 1908 which introduces a complex tension between monumental ambition and problematic ideological consequences of Moko into European artistic forms. It was first revealed at the Lambton Quay gallery in November of 1908, but is currently held in the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, and shows an example of the colonial gaze taking tactile form. This sculpture is crucial to understanding how Moko was reconfigured into the domain of European ethnographic typology. There is a deep interaction between anatomical realism and idealisation and the bust embodies the paradoxes at the center of colonial representation.
The bust was commissioned by Augustus Hamilton who was the director of the Colonial Museum. He wanted it created to serve a purpose to form a dedicated space for “portraits and memorials of noted persons of the Māori race, who would be represented by paintings and eventually statuary.”8 This museological vision used Moko as a central element to preserve what Europeans considered a “vanishing ‘type.’”9
The bust becomes tangible proof of the Moko being translated from a culturally saturated practice to an imagined indigeneity. The collaboration between Illingworth and Hamilton raised a contradiction between portraying authentic Māori cultural essence and the ethnological ambition to represent the idealized. Illingworth fashions the Moko to become less of an index of ancestral lineage and rather into a form of romanticized noble savagery.
Differing from Illingworth’s “earlier busts in the series, all of which are identified representations of living individuals,”10 the Bust of Tupai shows the tension between observation and intention with reality and idealization. In the previous busts, Illingworth frequently used European life casting techniques which included applying plaster directly to the faces of the elderly Māori men to capture what appeared to be anatomic truth. The use of life casts allowed for startling depictions of the eye sockets, the wrinkles in the neck, and accurate impressions of the Moko. However, according to Blackley, Tupai was supposedly meant to depict, “the famed Tūpai-whakarongo-wānanga, a tohunga on the ancestral migration canoe Tākitimu,"11 whom Illingworth described as his "ideal of the 'father of the Māoris' who led the people from Hawaiki in the early days."12 This shift from mythological representation within a new form of portraiture marks a crucial turning point to the colonial appropriation of Moko. The process of creating this bust shows the complicated methodology behind this ethnographic transformation where the bust was modeled from the life cast of an unidentified Māori elder, and later idealized based on oral narratives of Tupai. The Moko was extracted from its cultural specificity and instead later generalized into an ethnographic symbol. This transformation shows a reconfiguration in the meaning of the Moko because when transferred to plaster through life casting, with the addition of further artistic idealization, the Moko becomes detached from the original Moko-bearer and his cultural foundations. It becomes recontextualized as a static artifact and the representation of the Moko in sculpture creates an illusion of authenticity and preservation but simultaneously empties it of its significance.
The Blackley text makes it astoundingly clear that Illingworth’s real goal wasn’t portraiture but typification. The Bust of Tupai visually shows a stern elderly Māori male figure with three dimensionally indented facial Moko whose detailed spirals and chiseled lines create a dramatic contrast to the sculpture’s smooth, idealised skin. This structural depth departs from the pictorial depictions of Moko that may have been more typically seen with other common European mediums, as Illingworth attempted to recreate the actual carved nature of the traditional Moko, rather than just simply painting it onto the surface. There is a commanding quality in the musculature and visage, and the emphasis on the broad shoulders and elongated neck is an acknowledgement of classical statuary. There is a deviation from the use of native ornamentation, but rather addresses a sole interaction with Tupai. This may be due to Illingworth’s attempt to universalize the representation of Tupai. He is further depicted with a high forehead, leading to historically stylized hairdo. Illingworth constructed a traditional topknot arrangement which would have been common among high-ranking Māori men of earlier periods. This hairstyle places the bust further into the imagined historical past. Tupai’s facial expression and gaze is molded to hold stern rigidity and pride, but lacks the dynamic specificity of typical portraiture. His mouth is set into a tightly compressed line showing restraint and stoicism and his jawline is prominent and angular. His deep nasolabial folds and pronounced wrinkles are carefully etched into his skin to show his signs of aging, but it's selectively applied with just enough conveying wisdom and experience, but not so intense to suggest fragility. This contending force between realism and typology makes the bust significant because in the act of portraying Tupai, Illingworth simultaneously removes components of qualities of his identity and instead replaces him with an individual with a constructed archetype of ‘the Māori warrior.’ The bust is heavily idealised as an amalgamation of European sculptural conventions and ethnographic fantasy.
A major reason for the decline of Ta Moko occurred as a result of the 1907 Tohunga Suppression Act which was implemented with the purpose of eliminating forms of tohunga. This included, “. . . people pretending to possess supernatural powers in the treatment and cure of disease, the foretelling of future events, and otherwise, and thereby induce the Māoris to neglect their proper occupations and gather into meetings where their substance is consumed and their minds are unsettled, to the injury of themselves and to the evil example of the Māori people generally.”13 This act was created with the intention of discontinuing traditional practices central to Māori identity and instead replacing them with European norms of civilization. In the context of the bust, life casts such as those taken by Illingworth to create the bust, are paradoxical because they appear to document cultural specificity at precisely the historical moment when colonial policy sought to eradicate it. Even though the life casts and Moko sought to preserve the surface details of individual Māori faces, there were broader historical forces that actively challenged the living traditions they represented.
The creation of the Bust of Tupai reflects a fundamental misunderstanding of Ta Moko’s function by emptying the practice of this specificity and purpose. The Moko was transformed into an aesthetic figure and became a sign of generic ‘Māoriness’ rather than adhering to the specific identity of the Tupai. However, despite the problematic framing, the very selection of Tupai as subject matter could inadvertently mean there is connection to ancestral waka (canoe) narratives. The bust’s presence in public colonial institutions meant that elements of Māori origin stories could remain visible even during a time where colonial policies often sought to overwrite them.
Growing Demand for Ta Moko in Postcards
The third vector of translation is photographic representation of Moko (specifically in postcards) and the way it distorts yet communicates. To meet the growing demands of the Pākehā and non-indigenous market, rising photographers emphasized the cultural elements of the Māori community although many had been integrated into European culture in terms of dress and appearance. By the 1860s, the practice of Moko had become rare, especially with the ideological assault that was initiated by the incursion of Christianity in 1814. However, due to the growing demands for Moko-related portraits in the late 1800s, photographers and artists began “overwhelmingly choosing only those who had a facial tattoo.”14 Individuals who bore Moko were disproportionately chosen for portraiture which reflected the settler desire for visible markers of ‘authentic’ Māori identity. Images of Moko-bearing members were distributed through colonial photographs for ethnographic purposes and commodification in forms of postcards, tourist albums, museum collections, and collectibles to transform them into portable tokens of exoticism. Māori studio portraits began to saturate the market and the Moko continued to signify the chiefly status and resilience, but also began to diminish into emblems of a growing commodity.
The tourist market flourished and postcards became a primary method in which Māori identity and cultural practices were commodified. According to Thode Arora, postcards were “developing into a social convention[.] The sending of postcards became part of the tourist experience." 15 The late 19th and early 20th centuries saw an exponential growth in New Zealand’s tourism industry with the establishment of the Department of Tourist and Health Resorts in 1901 marking the first government-sponsored tourism bureau in the world. This department systematically marketed Māori culture as a central attraction of the New Zealand experience and deliberately sought to select and promote images that aligned with European expectations of indigeneity. With that, Ta Moko was featured prominently within this economy with postcards becoming an affordable and portable form of souvenirs that tourists could collect and circulate.
The postcard of Wetani Rore Tatangi (fig. 3) published by the New Zealand Tourist Department explicates how Moko was translated into photographic media and then further transformed through commercial reproductions as postcards. Photography’s reproductive capacity meant that widespread dissemination was possible, and the postcard translation ensured that Moko remained in public consciousness even as the physical practice declined. As a portable object, these images were carried beyond Aotearoa’s borders and carried visual significance, though staged, to international audiences. Although the postcard advertised New Zealand as a designation of ‘authentic’ Indigenous encounters, they were curated to be an image that was palatable and alluring to foreign audiences.
The postcard of Tatangi shows his distinctive facial Moko in striking detail and presents it as one of the central focuses of the composition. He wears a finely woven pake (a rain cape) over which a kaitaka (flax cloak) with taniko border (intricate geometric pattern) is draped over his left shoulder. The three huia feathers set in his hair is a symbolically marker of chiefly status. This arrangement is rich with cultural signifiers which shows a condensation of idealized Māori nobility, and the deliberate styling becomes a foreground for performative authenticity tailored to European expectations of Indigenous difference. His face is turned slightly away from the camera, giving a clearer view of the Moko on the right side of his face. The clarity of the Moko lines suggest a deliberate photographic retouching, a practice that was possible at the time, and likely used to emphasize the Moko’s visual impact for the postcard market. The Moko was most likely retouched on the photographic negative, prior to its mass production into postcards. The incised lines appear unusually crisp and seem darkened beyond their natural tone to create an intensified contrast against Wetani’s skin. This manipulation exemplifies how colonial visual culture both preserves yet distorts the Moko, and makes it legible yet marketable to European eyes.
The official government production of such postcards demonstrates how state institutions participated in the process of commodification, and how they selected and promoted specifical visual representations of Māori identity that aligned with the colonial expectations of authenticity. The physical condition of the postcard bears the stamp markings that testifies to its intended use within the circuits of exchange and consumption. It was said to have been printed as a collotype on card stock paper which was a popular method of capturing fine detail for mass production. The postcard was initially acquired by Leonard A. Lauder, most likely from a postcard dealer, before he later gifted it to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Its state shows the material life of such objects, and even in its unsent state, the postcard is evidence of the colonial appetite for Māori imagery in Western institutions.
When analyzing the postcard of Wetani Rore Tatangi, it becomes imperative to address the relationship to the Pulman Studio’s photograph of Weitani Rore Tatangi (fig. 4). Upon further research, it is of note that Pulman Studios had developed photographs of Weitani in which he appears positioned identically, wearing the same pake and kaitaka with taniko border, and with his hair styled exactly as in the postcard produced by the N.Z. Tourist Department. This striking similarity suggests reasonable evidence that these portraits were likely taken during the same photography session. The New Zealand Tourist Department postcard does not have a specified production date for when their postcard, but evidence of the Pulman Studio’s portrait photograph has been dated circa 1880s.16 Given that the New Zealand Tourist Department wasn’t established until 1901, it is reasonably inferable that the department later purchased the rights or negatives to Pullman’s original photograph and repurposed it for mass reproduction as a postcard. This timeline also reveals another layer in the commodification process where images initially captured for one commercial purpose were later recycled by government agencies to promote tourism through carefully selected representations of Māori identity.
The dynamics of power and representation within colonial photography and postcards of Māori subjects shows the motivations and subtle forms of resistance the individuals portrayed. As noted in Singeot’s essay, "Capturing people through photographs gave the impression of images frozen in time, objects or artefacts purely pertaining to a visual imaginary created according to imperial aspirations and revealing anthropological conclusions."17 The Tourist Department’s reproduction of Weitani’s image decades after its initial creation also expands this “freezing” effect and presents Māori culture as static for European consumption, detaching it from the actual historical context of ongoing colonial pressures. However, Singeot also argues that "the lure of photographic portraits resided in the potential control that the Māori subjects could exert over their own image as well as their individual interest in obtaining their photograph."18 Building on this observation, this quote reveals a crucial counter narrative to the commodification of Māori images. The “potential control” Singeot references has suggestive elements where subjects like Weitani may have been able to make deliberate choices about their presentation, including the consent behind the display of their Moko, which consciously preserves visual documentation of their cultural identity. Blackley further articulates, “While acceptance was gradual and uneven, portraits steadily assumed the status of taonga and were stored together with prized heirlooms.” This transformation of colonial objects into cultural treasures shows Indigenous reclamation, where Māori individuals were able to subvert the original commercial intent of the images and recontextualize them within their own value systems to convert colonial tools into vessels of continuity.
It’s important to note the postcard’s function as a communication medium created possibilities for further reclamation that other static mediums couldn't provide. Māori communities themselves purchased studio photographs and postcards and effectively repurposed colonial commercial products as tools for maintaining connections to their identity. This perspective aligns with Blackley’s assertion in Singeot’s essay that "photographic portraiture [...] became a site of both resistance and acclamation."19 and this challenges the notion that pictures and its subjects are “frozen.” These postcards and photographic portraits can be passed among generations without “restric[tion] to one single place and time.”20 This temporal and spatial flexibility allowed postcards like Weitani’s to reach beyond their initial purpose, allowing it to become evidence of colonial objectification and means of Māori cultural knowledge to continue circulating.
This essay has demonstrated how Ta Moko has undergone transformations that affected Māori agency under the pressures of colonial encounters by examining the three distinctive vectors of translation including paper and ink, plaster sculptures, and photographic postcards. It became a site of cultural persistence, and the journey of the Moko, from skin to paper, plaster, and photographic reproduction shows the complicated relationship between appropriation and indigenous resistance. The European visual mediums provided possibilities for Māori reclamation. Even as European colonial forces sought to document, regulate, and commodify this practice with aims of relegating it to the realms of ethnographic curiosity, Moko continues to serve as a symbol of Māori identity. The practice evolved and adapted, and continues to find new expressions within and against the systems that sought to contain it.
1. Robley, “Moko; or Māori Tattooing,” pg. 1.
2. Douglas, “Cureous Figures,” pg. 7.
3. Banks, Endeavour Journal, pg. 179.
4. Ballantyne, “Entanglements of Empire,” pg. 7.
5. The Holy Bible, English, Standard Version, Leviticus 19:29.
6. Jenkins, “Words between us: He Korere” pg. 95.
7. Ibid. pg. 100.
8. Blackley, “Galleries of Maoriland Artists,” pg. 110.
9. Ibid pg. 123.
10. Ibid pg. 105.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid.
13. Tohunga Suppression Act 1907, New Zealand Government.
14. Thode-Arora, “The Romanticized Māori” pg. 9.
15. Ibid pg. 2.
16. “Wetini Tatangi Te Roore,” Collections Online, Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa.
17. Singeot, “Sovereignty and agency,” Pg. 186.
18. Ibid pg. 190.
19. Ibid pg. 190.
20. Ibid.
Ballantyne, Tony. “ENTANGLEMENTS OF EMPIRE Missionaries, Maori, and the Question of the Body.” Auckland University Press, aucklanduniversitypress.co.nz/content/9781869408268.pdf. Accessed 9 April 2025.Banks, Joseph. The Endeavour Journal of Joseph Banks: Volume 2. Arranged by B.P. Sandford
Blackley, Roger. Galleries of Maoriland : Artists, Collectors and the Maori World, 1880–1910, Auckland University Press, 2018. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/claremont/detail.action?docID=5527938.
Douglas, Bronwen. “‘Cureous Figures’: European Voyagers and Tatau/Tattoo in Polynesia, 1595-1800, in Tattoo: Bodies, Art and Exchange in the Pacific and the West, Ed. Nicholas Thomas, Anna Cole, and Bronwen Douglas (London: Reaktion Books, 2005), 32-52.” Academia.Edu - Find Research Papers, Topics, Researchers, 29 Sept. 2015, www.academia.edu:443/16306140/Cureous_Figures_European_Voyagers_and_Tatau_Tattoo_in_Polynesia_1595-1800_in_Tattoo_Bodies_Art_and_Exchange_in_the_Pacific_and_the_West_ed._Nicholas_Thomas_Anna_Cole_and_Bronwen_Douglas_London_Reaktion_Books_2005_32-52.
Ellis, Ngārino. “Ki tō Ringa Ki Ngā Rākau ā Te Pākehā? drawings and signatures of moko by Māori in the early 19th century.” Journal of the Polynesian Society, vol. 123, no. 1, Mar. 2014, pp. 29–66, https://doi.org/10.15286/jps.123.1.29-66.
“The Holy Bible.” ESV Bible, www.esv.org/. Accessed 12 April 2025.
Jenkins, Kuni. “Ta Moko Signatures on the First Land Deeds, 1815 and 1819.” Words between Us—He Korero: First Maori-Pakeha Conversations on Paper, HUIA Publishers, pp. 89–102.
Robley, Major General. Moko; or, Maori Tattooing, by Major-General Robley. with 180 Illustrations from Drawings by the Author and from Photographs, babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=njp.32101068189883. Accessed 13 April 2025.
Singeot, Laura. “Sovereignty and agency in photographic portraits from Australia and Aotearoa / New Zealand: From anthropological aspirations to artistic reimaginings.” Études Anglaises, Vol. 76, no. 2, 30 Nov. 2023, pp. 180–199, https://doi.org/10.3917/etan.762.0180.
Hilke, Thode-Arora. The Romanticized Māori – Māori Portraits on Late 19th- and Early 20th-Century Postcards and Photographs, no. Special Issue "Gottfried Lindauer-Painting New Zealand", 2018, https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.11588/riha.2018.2.70271.
Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907, VII, No. 13, Government Printer, 1907, Printed under authority of the New Zealand Government, www.austlii.edu.au/nz/legis/hist_act/tsa19077ev1907n13353.pdf. Accessed 24 April 2025.
“Wetini Tatangi Te Roore.” Collections Online - Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, collections.tepapa.govt.nz/object/129753. Accessed 10 May 2025.
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