Mr Somare Is No Pin-Up Boy For

Png Primitive Art Dealers

By LAURIE MARSHALL, Sydney artifacts dealer

No one, especially the primitive •t dealers, would like to see the rtifact position in Papua New uinea become as desperate as that listing in Polynesia and most of the nailer islands of Melanesia. It is regrettable fact that places like iji, Tonga, Samoa and New Cale- Dnia have been so denuded of their idigenous art that not even a com •ehensive selection remains to dis ay in their museums.

The reasons for this situation mge from the deliberate destruction : so-called heathen idols to the •eakdown of village and tribal life, he imposition of European culture id beliefs and acceptance by the itive populations of the concept of dividual ownership of property has d to a loss of identification with eir old ways of life. Ceremonies ive lost their meaning and artifacts ive become symbols of an un vilised past.

Artifacts which escaped destruc m by intent or neglect were either •llected by overseas museums, or ken home by expatriates as sou mirs to add visual emphasis to eir stories of life among the vages of the Pacific.

Not until well into this century d the colonial governments see any icessity to preserve what little re ained, and even then often left its Election and display in amateurish mds. So, the meaning behind many stom objects was lost or forgotten, id prejudices led to the emascula m of statues and repression of tails pertaining to their use which jre considered as profane or un voury. Even now a ticket in the ji Museum describes some exhibits “The tawdry trappings of a witch ctor”.

The net result of all this is that lat little Polynesian art finds its ly to the market is generally from e estates of dead collectors. Deal ? sell this material for extremely ?h prices and usually have a wait l list of customers. Main pur asers are Americans and Euro ans and the only way the Islands n hope to retrieve their art is by ying the market price. Very few ople especially dealers can brd to make presents of them or 1 for a fraction of the price they id a private collector.

Several months ago PNG Chief Minister Mr Somare announced new regulations banning the export of artifacts made before 1962. That was not likely to make him the primi tive art dealers’ pin-up boy. For many years they have looked to New Guinea as their main source of supply. Most are re-pricing their older items, and collectors who want this material must now expect to pay significantly higher prices.

The regulations are not calculated to produce joyful cries from the Sepik villages either. The economy along the River and in the Maprik area has been built up to a significant degree by the sale of their art and many have become so expert at ageing their carvings that they may have difficulty in convincing the authorities that they only made them the previous month. Some New Guinea artifacts dealers have already pulled out of the business and Australian dealers are debating the worth of future buying visits.

If they decide their money can be better spent elsewhere, not only the carvers, but those who rely on an income from provision of services can expect a drastic financial setback.

As a substitute the government would have to organise a steady stream of free-spending tourists pre pared to suffer the danger and dis comfort of malarial mosquitoes, the sight and sound of marauding miss ionaries searching for souls and the feelings of frustration produced by surly, slow service. Failing this, those politicians who represent the area may have to revert to the prac tice of burying their faeces, hair and fingernail clipping if they wish to avoid being cursed by sorcerers as well as by their constituents.

The restrictions, however, are not

altogether unwarranted, and have been made necessary by the actions of dealers, collectors and even missionaries who have exported artifacts which they well knew were classified as national treasures.

Not all artifacts made after 1962 are inferior, but it is an unfortunate fact that the bulk of the present-day material is of ‘tourist quality’. With the exception of those stores which cater for this trade, such artifacts are unsaleable on the Australian art market. The trend towards tourist carvings has accelerated, particularly over the past four years, with genu ine pieces becoming increasingly difficult to obtain in quantities which make a Sepik buying a profit able proposition for the dealers.

The answer to PNG’s native art problem is not to prohibit the ex port of genuine artifacts but to en sure their continuity. Nothing can be dons to stop the adoption of European tools, food or transport ation. It should be, however, quite possible to reverse the decline of belief and pride in the art and cere monies which are essential to the continuance of their cultural identity.

Perhaps the government could in troduce indigenous culture as a com pulsory school subject, using such people as village elders and crafts men as teachers instead of the pro ducts of teachers’ colleges. As well as ensuring that the old traditions and skills are not lost it could pro vide a means of future local em ployment as guides for tourists and as curators of Haus Tambarans and other places of religious and cul tural importance to ensure that both locals and visitors alike treat them with the same respect as is demanded of visitors to temples, shrines and churches in Asian and European countries.

If the people can be convinced that their culture, with its attendant art forms, is worth preserving it will survive, despite the pressures exerted by tourism and the acceptance of a basically European life style. PNG, unlike most other Pacific countries, is still in the position to retain its art; not merely in museums, but in the towns and villages as living testimony to the imagination, culture and creativity of the indigenous population.