Jade Kake, founder of Matakohe Architecture and Urbanism, is a strong believer in the importance of developing kaupapa Māori designs that are made with and for the community. Photo / Supplied, Sara Orme.
Jade Kake, founder of Matakohe Architecture, talks to Tom Raynel about what makes kaupapa Māori designs different, and how rangatiratanga or self-determination in New Zealand’s built environment is underutilised.
What is Matakohe Architecture + Urbanism?
Matakohe is a kaupapa Māori architecture firm based in Te Tai Tokerau (Northland) and wework alongside whānau, hapū, iwi and community clients to realise their aspirations for the built environment.
What inspired you to start the business?
I’d been brewing this as an idea for about five or six years, but I didn’t quite have the skills or the knowledge to pull it off before that point. What I saw is that there’s a real need for Māori-led firms who really know the communities they’re operating in. Those who have a good understanding of tikanga Māori/mātauranga Māori and can support their communities to be able to complete built environment projects in a way that aligns with their culture, history and future aspirations.
There are a few firms like that, but not many. The demographics of our profession are really skewed in a particular way, so I think it’s about 70-80% Pākehā. That’s not necessarily a bad thing in and of itself. When you think of the difference between the demographic makeup of our architecture profession, and the makeup of our clients and also our communities, then it is a problem.
How are kaupapa Māori designs different from traditional Western designs?
It’s mostly around the process. So the way we operate, it’s a cosign process with the community. Because we know tikanga Māori and mātauranga Māori, they don’t have to over-explain concepts to us because we understand their worldview and perspective.
It doesn’t mean we’re experts in everything and we’re certainly not the kāumatua who has all that wealth of in-depth knowledge, but we know enough to be able to listen well and ask the right questions. I think if you don’t necessarily have that worldview, it doesn’t mean you can’t learn those things, but it’s harder to be able to do so and be responsive.
There’s also a case to be made for hapū rangatiratanga and the growing capability within Māori communities to do things for ourselves.
What type of buildings do you design for Māori communities?
Generally, we work either for Māori clients or on kaupapa where there is some sort of cultural lens or involvement of mana whenua in the design process, which in turn sees us working across a whole range of projects.
Papakāinga and marae are obvious ones because those are the ones where Māori communities are the client and they’re in control. But Māori clients can also have commercial properties so it could be things like office fit-outs, which we’ve done a bit of.
The collaborative projects are more likely to be things like schools, civic buildings or urban design projects. In those cases, the client is usually a government entity of some sort, whether it’s central or local, and then it’s mana whenua or hapū who are invited as part of the design process.
Why is important to have representation for mātauranga Māori and mana motuhake in architecture?
I think that because otherwise what is our culture? I know that’s such an existential question that everyone always asks, but I think there is a bit of a crisis of identity at times because outside of Māori culture, how do we define ourselves? Is it as a little colonial outpost of England, or is it that plus Māori culture plus a bunch of new cultures that have come afterwards?
I think where I’m going with this is that Te Tiriti o Waitangi is the foundation, and therefore Māori culture, as well as a form of British culture, really forms the foundation for our modern identity. If we’re only seeing one of those partners meaningfully reflected in the built environment, well, that’s a problem because then our foundation is lopsided.
For all of us to feel like we have a place and identity we can relate to, I think our built environment needs to respect that and it can reflect other cultures that have come since then.
Are there any trends you’d like to revitalise?
I’m really interested in how we can bring back raupō as a material, but in a way that can be adopted widely. Raupō has been kind of unofficially banned as a construction material pretty much since the early 1900s. There’s no clear pathway on how you would use it in a modern building.
I’ve become really interested in Dutch thatch techniques because it’s had a big resurgence. Now they’ve got it fully fire tested, it’s been through their version of their building code and they’re building really quite modern-looking buildings using thatch. The kind of reed they use seems quite similar to raupō to me, so I think we could develop a similar technology that is also able to pass muster and get through our code compliance hoops.
I’m also Dutch, that’s my other culture on my dad’s side. I’m not nearly as knowledgeable on that side of my kaupapa, but I’m really interested in that for that reason.
What would be your advice to other budding entrepreneurs?
Seek to understand economic cycles and how they relate to your industry. Understand how you get through those lean times and then how to deal with scaling up in those boom times.
Depending on your industry, you might want to diversify what you offer so you can smooth it out a little bit more if you’re in an industry that’s particularly susceptible to those boom-bust cycles. What I’ve been telling people is to plan for growth, but also plan for degrowth if that’s what’s required.
Tom Raynel is a multimedia business journalist for the Herald, covering small business and retail.