In Gisborne, on New Zealand’s North Island, Mark Kopua, a 64-year-old master woodcarver and ta moko artist, carefully recreated ancestral patterns on his nephew’s arm using a felt-tip marker before beginning the tattooing process. The ritual body art, known as ta moko, is a centuries-old tradition of the Maori people, New Zealand’s Indigenous inhabitants. After more than a century of near extinction due to colonial-era bans and cultural stigma, the art form is experiencing a marked revival.

Ta moko involves elaborate facial tattoos that convey an individual’s genealogy, social status, and life milestones. For women, moko kauae adorn the lips and chin; men receive mataora, which begins on the chin and extends outwards. The tattoos can narrate a person’s lineage and significant events, effectively serving as a living family tree. This cultural revival of moko kanohi reflects efforts to reclaim Maori identity and heritage that were suppressed for decades.

The tradition was largely lost after New Zealand’s colonial government banned Indigenous tattooing practices in the early twentieth century under the Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907. The legislation criminalized Maori experts—including tattoo artists—ostensibly to suppress “exploitative practices” but effectively stifled Maori cultural expression. The ban, coupled with societal discrimination and discouragement from Christians who became the majority among Maori, drove many to hide or abandon their tattoos.

Kopua and a small group of artists began revitalizing the practice in the 1970s, influenced by a growing Maori nationalist movement. Kopua taught himself ta moko by studying patterns found in traditional carving, weaving, and historical artifacts held by museums, as no contemporary practitioners remained to pass down the art. He and fellow tohunga have since trained students to ensure the continuity of ta moko for future generations.

In recent years, ta moko has gained broad visibility and acceptance. Prominent figures such as Nanaia Mahuta, New Zealand’s former foreign minister, were the first women to wear moko kauae in Parliament’s House of Representatives. Others include Tame Iti, a well-known activist with extensive facial tattoos, who recalls a time when those with moko faced exclusion from public venues and social stigma.

Today, younger Maori have embraced ta moko more enthusiastically than older generations, many of whom retained apprehensions rooted in historic oppression. A 2018 government survey indicated that over 25 percent of Maori aged 25 to 44 sport traditional tattoos, compared with just 8 percent of those aged 55 and older. Artists such as Ed Harawira note that younger Maori see ta moko as a source of pride and cultural identity, whereas previous generations had associated it with marginalization.

The process of receiving ta moko often includes the participation of family, with blessings, song, and physical support during the tattooing ceremony. While contemporary tools are tattoo machines, the designs maintain the integrity of traditional motifs that once were carved using shark teeth or birds’ bones.

Some families, like that of woodcarver and Maori adviser Ruihana Smith, mark life events with moko. Smith received a mataora in 2023 to honor his great-grandmother, spending several hours under the watchful eyes of relatives. Children as young as 13 may receive moko kanohi, with younger children often wearing temporary tattoos as a nod to their heritage.

The resurgence of ta moko is not only a reclaiming of art but also a cultural renaissance that bridges ancestral traditions with modern Maori identity. As Kopua emphasized, sustaining the practice requires ongoing teaching and dedication. “Not just to wake the art up, but to keep it awake,” he said. The revitalization of ta moko thus represents both a healing of past wounds and an affirmation of Maori heritage in contemporary New Zealand society.