Escape Magazine ESCAPE 29 | Page 42

Artist All Hours Maria File by Rachel Smith There is no clock off time for an artist. “I was up from 11pm last night. At 2am this morning I started this,” Maria File says, pointing to a black and white abstract painting that leans against the wall. The painting is one of around 20 works in progress scattered around her living space – some she has been working on for a few weeks, others a few years. Maria does most of her painting here, her home designed with a future gallery space in mind. It is open and light, and the perfect spot for painting, day or night. “I love it here - I paint every day,” Maria says. “Everything I paint and sell goes towards the land – getting it ready for my grandchildren.” How it all began is like something off a TV drama. It’s the 1960’s and 13 year old Maria is happily living on the streets of Wellington. The police spot her one day and give chase. Maria heads somewhere they are unlikely to look for her - the National Art Gallery. She stayed there all day. “It was like – what is this? How do they do that?” While it may have been Maria’s first encounter with art of this scale, creativity had always been a part of her everyday life. “My first introduction to design and colour was my grandmother’s tivaevae and my mother’s 'ei katu,” she says. Maria did the same, crafting anything and everything as a child and as an adult. It was when she was 36 years old and her children were school age, that Maria saw an advertisement for an art course which included the powerful words of ‘Polynesians Welcome.’ She enrolled in the class at Whitireia New Zealand, the only Pacific Islander and mature student in a class of predominantly young Pākehā. “You can change your life. My family, they gave me the motivation and a drive to succeed,” she says. “It was a daunting first experience but I had an awesome tutor and it opened so many doors.” 42 • Escape Magazine One year of art study became four years with a focus on carving, and a year of creative writing, followed by teachers training. Maria taught high school art in Wellington from 1998, all the while continuing to produce her own work. In Maria File 2003 she became unwell and went to stay with her mother, Christmas Heather, in Rarotonga. 16 years later and it is still home. “I started from nothing. I started off painting wood offcuts. Some weeks I made money and some weeks I didn’t,” she says, initially selling her work at Punanga Nui market. In 2012 Maria opened a co-op gallery in Muri. She quickly realised that her own work would fill the entire space, marking the beginning of the Maria File Gallery. Her business has steadily grown, now at a point where Maria employs staff to run the gallery and market hut so she can concentrate on painting full-time. Around 10 small canvases are laid out on a table in the centre of her house. Each is based on her tribal designs - representations of Polynesian, Mangaian and Rarotongan icons, reflective of her family connections to Mangaia through her grandmother, Mama Tu Heather and to Ariki Numangatini, and to Ariki Tinomana of Rarotonga. “They are icons I have developed over the past 20 years,” Maria says, representations of people and loyalty, and the world around her. “The designs just pour out of me – it’s meditative.” “Art forms come in many ways – it’s not just paint on canvas. I get as much buzz out of doing something small like a tea towel as I do a big painting.” This could be painted canvases, prints, cards, cushion covers, tea towels, painted wooden mokos (geckos) and whatever else may take her fancy at the time. These days, when Maria is painting she is drawn to large scale works. Standing in front of the canvas, she is there again in the National Art Gallery. “When I tackle a large piece of work, it transports me back in time to when I saw the larger than life paintings that took up a wall space,” she says. “It was a cathartic moment in my young life.” Find Maria’s work at Maria File Gallery and TE ARA - Cook Islands Museum of Cultural Enterprise in Muri and at Punanga Nui on Saturday mornings.