A lost portrait, a 1917 Christchurch catalogue and the evidence reigniting the Goldie conversation
Before there was a Goldie, there was Pātara.
Pātara Te Ngūngūkai was a renowned tohunga of Tūhourangi Ngāheke, Te Arawa. A man of considerable mana and tapu, historical records describe responsibilities that included the sacred preparation of kōiwi following exhumation for reburial. His likeness survives in archival photography and in this remarkable portrait that has travelled for more than a century.
Lost in Thought, Ngaheke, An Arawa Chieftain, attributed to C. F. Goldie, has returned to Christchurch 109 years after it was exhibited here.(sic, the k was likely misread as a tz from Goldie's handwriting as there is no z in the Maori alphabet)
That homecoming matters.
The surviving catalogue from the 1917 Canterbury Society of Arts exhibition records it plainly: No. 15. C. F. GOLDIE — Lost in Thought, Ngahetze, An Arawa Chieftain. £15 15s. The exhibition label surviving with the painting is also numbered 15.
Immediately following it in that same catalogue is another Goldie, No. 16, Distrust, Maramina Wiari, priced at £14 14s. That piece was very recently sold at auction.
For collectors, these details matter. Labels, catalogue entries, frames, inscriptions, photographs and conservation findings are the fragments from which provenance is reconstructed. A label cannot establish authorship by itself, but the correspondence between No. 15 on the object and No. 15 in the contemporary Christchurch catalogue is a compelling piece of its documented history.
No. 15 has come home.
PĀTARA FIRST
Perhaps the most interesting response to the painting's reappearance comes not from the art market, but from Pātara's own people.
Tūhourangi Tribal Authority chair Kirikowhai Mikaere has raised the deeper question of what ownership means when historic portraits depict tūpuna. Speaking after developments surrounding the painting, she wondered whether the koroua might be “exercising governance over his own image.
It's a powerful thought.
Regardless of the debate over the hand that painted him, Pātara is not in doubt. His whakapapa, mana and connection to Tūhourangi give this portrait a significance that cannot be reduced to a price on the art market.
There is a beautiful Christchurch parallel.
Christchurch Art Gallery Te Puna o Waiwhetū already holds Goldie's A Hot Day (1901), depicting another Māori leader named Pātara — Wiremu Pātara Te Tuhi of Ngāti Mahuta. They were different men from different iwi, but both portraits have extraordinary connections with Canterbury's art history. A Hot Day was exhibited here in 1902 and purchased by the Canterbury Society of Arts.
One Pātara stayed. Another disappeared from public view.
Now, more than a century later, the second has returned.
THE GOLDIE QUESTION
There has been vigorous debate over the attribution of Lost in Thought. Some established art experts have challenged it with the focus being on how it looks. On the other side sits years of research, conservation work, and archival evidence. Authentication and attribution is also about its history and the documentary evidence. Here the painting is supported by a number of art experts including a former national art gallery curator, a national art conservator with over 40 years experience, an expert on Oceania and Maori art, a senior art gallery curator, and two retired Art History Professors, with letters of authentication and valuations.
CM believes new evidence deserves serious consideration.
Art scholarship evolves. Technology improves, archives open, conservation reveals information and objects separated for generations can suddenly be connected again.
That's what makes collecting so fascinating. CM's The Art Collector has always looked beyond decoration towards works with history, provenance, cultural significance and enduring value. Lost in Thought certainly brings all four into the room.
But this story ultimately belongs to the man looking back at us.
Pātara left Christchurch's public gaze after 1917. The painting travelled, disappeared and resurfaced generations later.
Now he is back in Canterbury.
Coincidence? Provenance? Fate?
Perhaps Pātara simply knew his way home.