Star man Rangi Mātāmua: 'I don't want to be that uncle that everyone's waiting to die so they can do stuff'

By Tracey Cooper

It's not the books, the awards, the accolades or the successful push to have Matariki made a public holiday that gives Rangi Mātāmua the most satisfaction.

He's New Zealander of the Year - Te Pou Whakarae o Aotearoa, an Officer of the New Zealand Order of Merit, recipient of the Prime Minister's Prize for Science Communications (2020) and very much the mata, or face, of Matariki.

But these achievements, along with a host of others for his work around Māori astronomy, aren't what really makes the Tūhoe scholar proud.

"I think it's probably the kids," he says.

"I see the kids now, not just Māori kids, but all kids, they know Matariki. Our generation, we wouldn't have heard about it, we celebrated Guy Fawkes. Remember building the guys and setting them on fire as a young kid? Now I think to myself, what the hell, how is that connected to who we are?"

"Now, mātauranga Māori sits at the head of a national holiday, where the country stops to acknowledge mātauranga Māori. I think that's amazing."

As we approach the second Matariki public holiday on 14 July, there's increasing interest across the motu as more organisations, whānau, hapū, iwi and communities host events marking the rising of the star cluster in the early morning.

"This year there's going to be thousands of hautapu in homes, and big events, small events, across the country. It's kind of changing in its own way, it's changing who we are as a nation," he says.

Hautapu is a ceremony that includes viewing Matariki, remembering those who have died in the last year and making an offering to the stars.

It's surprising how quickly Matariki has become a significant part of life in Aotearoa New Zealand. Mātāmua's first book, Matariki - Star of the Year, was only published in 2017 and in five years it's become a national public holiday. Mātāmua never expected so much to happen, so quickly.

"I was thinking, 'it would be good if this became a holiday or a national event', but you just talk about it, never in my wildest dreams. In fact, when I wrote my book I sat on it for ages because I didn't want to release it."

His reticence was partly because once the book was published, there was no way to protect the knowledge of his tupuna. He's also well aware that other Māori have their own beliefs about Matariki.

"I understand that there are tribal variations and differences, and that's awesome. It's meant to be different because we're different. I really support the coming through of traditional regional variations. My version has nine stars, because I can only go off what my ancestor says. If you have seven, have seven, if you have Puanga, have Puanga. And for Pākeha, accepting that has been a lot better, but Māori, we can get pretty territorial about stuff, like 'that's not what we believe'. That's the bit that makes me hōhā because that's not the point. The point is we celebrate it."

While Matariki has come a long way in a short time, Mātāmua doesn't think we've reached its peak yet.

"If my workload's anything to go by, no, it just keeps getting busier," he says.

"I think I'd like to see it normalised and become a central part of our ongoing national identity. It belongs here and it's something that everyone can share in, and for that to be central to how we see ourselves, I'd like to see that continue to grow."

One of the concerns about making Matariki a public holiday was that it would cost the nation, but statistics from the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment show it's not only incredibly popular, but also provides economic benefits, with domestic tourists spending between $110m-$160m. People are thought to have received benefits in the form of additional leisure time of between $151m-$300m.

"During the 2022 public holiday, 51 percent of people did something to celebrate Matariki, while 98 percent had heard of it and 87% had some understanding," he says.

"I was stoked with that, to realise it was taken up by that many people."

But while Matariki will continue to grow, he'd be quite happy to take a step back.

"I think my role needs to come to an end and allow a new generation to come through and develop their own regional approach. Sometimes, someone can cast a too bigger shadow in a place and not allow others to grow, I'm really aware of that. I don't want to be that uncle that everyone's waiting to die so they can do stuff. I've been fortunate to play the role that I've played, but I don't want to be that uncle."

For all his achievements - academically, culturally, socially - Mātāmua says he was never a particularly bright student.

"I was just an average kid. I think I was intelligent naturally, like all kids are, inquisitive. But I was a typical boy, you know. I played rugby, I just did the minimum, but I had great family support.

"I went to Hato Paora College and I had one particular teacher and she just took a little bit of extra time to believe in me, and that's all it took. She gave me just that little bit of encouragement and I never looked back from that. It's interesting how someone like a teacher can actually shape your life just by a couple of words. I'll never forget her."

Mātāmua spotted that teacher, Mary Dinsdale, in the audience at one of his Matariki lectures.

"I gave my lecture and I said 'I just want to finish by saying that woman there changed my life, just because she believed in me and made me believe in myself'. I'll never forget what that meant to me as a young Māori boy. All it was, was a couple of kind words and a little bit of direction and and I went from just doing what I had to do, to pushing myself. I went straight from school to uni, and I went and did my bachelors, honours, masters, then I had a little bit of a break and I did a PhD. I think I was 33 when I got my PhD and then just carried on from there."

And the journey continues. Days after marking the rising of Matariki on 14 July, Mātāmua will fly to London and deliver a presentation at the Royal Observatory, built on the order of Charles II in 1675.

"It's the centre of Greenwich Mean Time and it also would have had an influence on Cook coming this way for the transit of Venus and the transit of Mercury. To be able to go back to the place where that mainstream, Western belief system that went all around the world came from, and take mātauranga Māori back and speak about it right there, that's a buzz."

There's also a Matariki exhibition at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington DC and growing interest from other indigenous peoples.

While his reputation grows internationally, Mātāmua remains with his feet firmly on the ground, his eyes on the stars and thankful for everything Matariki has become.

"No one goes into it for anything like that, for public recognition, but it's humbling as well. It's so humbling to be involved in something like this, it really has been."