Reconnecting to Earth Through Art — IN Conversation with Harete Tito

Paper making. Photograph provided by Nancy Zhou, May 2026

Art can be a powerful way of expressing our relationship with the natural world, especially when it helps us reflect on where we come from and how we live within it.
We had the privilege of speaking with artist and Climate Reality Leader Harete Tito about art, climate change, and what it means to reconnect with the environment. She shared how a deep connection to land and environment forms the foundation of everything.

While climate change is now an undeniable reality shaping how we live and think, she reflected on the importance of art in opening up conversation, fostering understanding, and helping us reconsider our relationship with the earth. 

​Your work often draws on natural materials and a close relationship with the land (whenua), how has climate change influenced the way you approach these elements? 

For me as Māori, our connection to land and environment is the foundation of everything. We’ve never had to respond or consider climate change as we do now, but now that climate change is upon us and is more present, a lot of what we do is also in response to that.

My ancestor’s lives were in tune with the environment, they lived in harmony with land and sea and the universe as kaitiaki (guardians). So my practice as an artist has always had an element of nature present; working with nature, the earth, trees, environment because that is who I am. I am the whenua (earth), I am the moana (sea), I am the rākau (tree).

​That is our relationship that already exists whether climate change is happening or not. I haven’t always worked with the materials like I do now, but a few years back I decided that I would commit to using materials that were sustainable, readily available, and could at any time return to the earth. And so here I am. 

How do you bring together traditional knowledge and contemporary concerns like climate change in your artistic practice? 

Our connection to the environment is a part of who we are, it is passed on to us orally through our stories, through the lives our ancestors lived, our artforms, our songs. And so my art practice considers all of that when I am working with plants such as harakeke which is our main traditional weaving plant.

And working with our native trees is about reclamation of our reo Māori too, my Māori language, because we’re using them and we’re learning about them both within a traditional context as well as how they relate to life now. And because they are a part of today’s environment where climate change is upon us, they become even more important.

Paper plant pigments. Photograph provded by H. Tito, May 2026

I think about deforestation in our country that made way for farming, the planting of pine, and of course the confiscation of land right around the country. We are trying to undo a lot of the effects that colonisation has had on both people and land.

When you take away the very foundation of our people (land and language) which is intrinsically connected to who we are, our health and wellbeing will inevitably be affected. And so reclamation is in all areas of life. And my use of our native rākau (trees) is to bring them to life again, bring them back to the landscape where they belong.

And art making with plants, for me, is bringing climate change to sit with me in my practice. And the work that I make honours the environment and I am bringing into the present these words - I will respect you and honour you for looking after me. I honour the relationship and connection we have. And I think that at the essence of climate change is a lack of respect for the earth. We take it for granted rather than live in harmony with it. We’ve forgotten our connection to the earth so part of my work aims to help reconnect.

What motivated you to take part in the Climate Reality Leadership Training, and what did you take away from the experience?

Pukapuka unbound. Photograph provided by H. Tito, May 2026

I was asked by an artist friend Leah Barclay if I wanted to go, she felt like I was a good fit. We had worked together on a few artist projects in the past, we both work with the environment in some way, she, a sound artist and me, a visual artist. And it coincided with an overseas art residency in Canada for artists who work with plants, so the timing was good for me. 

I flew to Canada via Brisbane. Climate Action had always been on my radar back then (and this was only in 2019, so not far back), but it didn’t seem that climate change was upon us like it is now. But I think that is my lack of understanding and knowledge about what is really happening, so it was good to be there to gain that information. I think when it happens to you, in your own back yard, you notice it, and it makes it real for you.

So I went along, not really knowing what to expect. The biggest thing I took away from that was, we need more Indigenous voices. We need Indigenous people to lead the fight for climate change because our lives for thousands of years have been to live with and in harmony with the environment. We already have those knowledge systems in place, lived experiences. It is who we are. ​

At the event, I saw Indigenous perspectives in parts, but we need more. And with Indigenous people, many of us are affected because we live on islands and atolls in places that get bad weather. It seems so frequent now. Whereas back then, it didn’t seem that way.

Since completing the training, how has it shaped both your personal perspective and your work as an artist? 

Carrying on from above, the event and training itself, didn’t really change the way I created or approached my art because I was already doing it. There was a lot of information given and I went away thinking, wow, that was a lot, and it takes time to process things, to really let them sink in.

And then, after that, I went to an event in Canada working with artists who work with plants and actually that residency highlighted a lot of things about the environment as well and what is happening in the world. From one event to another, I didn’t actually get to process a lot of that until later. 

Works in progress. Photograph provided by H. Tito, May 2026

Following on from that residency in Canada, I visited an Inuk friend in Iqaluit (Nunavut) in the Arctic Circle. The scale of Canada was evident when I went on this journey! I flew from Ottawa to Iqaluit and it took 3.5 hours. And I was still in the same country, heading North. That blew my mind from little Aotearoa at the bottom of the world!

Plant paper. Photograph provided by H. Tito, May 2026

That trip was an eye opener, the landscape was so different, the amount of fresh air I felt being there, but also the speed at which the snow melted while I was there.

I was told it hadn’t done that so quickly in the past. So observation by locals who see this landscape every day, all year, they know what’s happening and what affects them up there, also affects us, you can’t separate one country from another, we are all connected. 

But, regardless of the training, climate, now more than ever, is front and centre because you see it affecting so many people here in Aotearoa now. We know people who lost their whole lives and homes in Cyclone Gabrielle, they lived just down the road. We become more conscious of where we are in spaces.

We live in our motorhome right now and if we were to ever settle we are often thinking about - how close to a river a place is, is it on a cliff that has potential for slips or below? All of these things are front and centre now, but before they weren’t even a thought. 

And as an artist, I’m always wanting my art to make a difference. I’m always wanting to bring about change and often you don’t think that this is happening. But I think small changes, incremental changes by all, can make a difference. 

Ko Rangi Ko Papa Ka Puta Ko Rongo. Photograph provided by H. Tito, May 2026

Ko Rangi Ko Papa Ka Puta Ko Rongo. Photograph provided by H, Tito, May 2026

I have a work Ko Rangi Ko Papa Ka Puta Ko Rongo that I first exhibited ten years ago. It's a circle work because my work is always working with circles, a non-linear expression.

This work is a work of contemplation, meditation, a space that people can come into and be themselves. It also invites conversations, where people come together not to agree, but to understand. I think we can make so much more of a difference when we can respect each other and our perspectives. If we listen to each other, we learn from each other and we understand. I think this is the space for making better decisions, and moving forward in a way that is good for everyone and the earth! 

Do you see your work as a way of responding to environmental issues, and what kinds of conversations are you hoping to spark, particularly around our relationship with the environment?

As above, it’s more about sharing what my relationship is with the environment, something that has been shared with me through language, stories and art. But also my connection to the environment. I grew up in nature - forests and rivers were my playgrounds. Back then, there was no fear or worry about kids being free to play. We had a childhood where there was no technology or TV, it was all outdoors nature play. And being in nature has stuck with me. It’s part of my DNA!

Literally, as the land I grew up on is my grandmother’s land. As an artist, I’m always wanting my work to make a difference - to inspire, uplift and heal. I want people to look at Papatūānuku in a different way. We’ve lost our connection to the whenua, to the earth, and I think that is key to bringing about change as well as what the artwork Ko Rangi Ko Papa set out to do. To bring people together in conversation, not necessarily to agree but to understand each other, to understand another perspective. That is the essence of that work that goes right back to the beginning of time. 

Are there any recent and upcoming projects you would like to share with us? What are they? 

Seeds. Photograph provided by H. Tito, May 2026

I’ve been on a number of art residencies and exhibited and shared work in different places. I’m moving into small press publishing, which is both scary and exciting!

I’ve always loved books and storytelling - both print and handmade and I want to share stories creatively and making books is a way for me to do that. I am sharing some of these new books at Photobook NZ happening in August 2026 in Te Whanganui a Tara at Te Papa, so that is exciting for me. 

I went to the Melbourne Book Fair last year (as a spectator) and got excited for the many other book fairs around the world too. I was in Banff last year at an Indigenous art residency and the kaupapa was land-based engagement so the artists that were there, were those who engage in some way with the environment.

I love being with other artists - gathering, sharing, creating together. It feels very Indigenous! Having conversations about so many things and being creative. And being in that environment over there was incredible. It's one of my favourite places. I feel very connected to those mountains, and I’m lucky to have been there twice, the first time in 2023.

I think Ko Rangi Ko Papa Ka Puta Ko Rongo, is a work I would like to mention (again) because for me, it has so many layers and elements to it. It's a circle for change and my work is at its essence, about that. I could talk about so many projects, but I will talk about my installation at Te Matatiki Toi Ora which I’ve included an image of - paper hanging in a colonial courtyard.

Art residency Ōtautahi. Photograph provided by H. Tito, May 2026

This work is important for me on so many levels - paper representing the introduction of pakeha systems, of books (ironically which I love so much!), contained within a colonial brick wall that speaks about all facets of colonialism but the paper is made from harakeke and the fact that it has nothing on it, just the paper itself. 

It speaks volumes because that is who we are as a people, we are oral, we are connected to the environment.

And this line with the paper hanging is saying - here is our laundry (our story of being colonised) hung out for all to see, it really is as simple as a sheet of paper and the beauty of that. Because from a western perspective, you would expect something to be placed upon it, added to (or extracted from). But for me, it is beautiful just as it is, no need for embellishments or even a long story, all the elements of environment, water, rākau, connection, Tāwhirimātea (wind), Tama nui te rā (sun), our atua all came to play.

And then if it rains, the paper goes back to the earth. It’s a circle moment. One last thing, there is an image of growing seedlings. I included this because I love putting my hands in the earth and when we were living in a house, I grew all my own trees, many from seeds. It taught me a lot about growing our native trees, there is so much learning in observation every day and then to be able to create with the trees that I’ve grown and share their stories, to share te reo Māori through the trees, it was quite profound for me.

​One day I will grow a forest, that is my goal! But also growing food to eat, I also love herbs and flowers and use these and our natives for rongoā (healing) too. It’s a big part of who I am, to grow plants.

Visit wonderingearth.com to find out more about Harete's work and projects.