Language & Design: He Matapihi ki te Ao
Ko te reo he matapihi ki te ao – Language is a window to the world.
A well known whakatauki. Those that have been down the path of language learning will intuitively know the shifts in perspective you experience along the way. For me, these shifts have been instrumental in how I approach design.
Learning a new language opens up so much creative inspiration. You don’t just memorise vocabulary and grammar. You start to adopt a new worldview, a new way of perceiving and interacting with the world around you.
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I grew up only speaking English. Because of my whakapapa, I had an interest in te reo from a young age, but I never pursued it seriously until adulthood. Reaching native-level fluency is a haerenga mutunga kore, a journey without end. That’s a never ending supply of growth and change, which i’ve been nourished with for 7 years and counting.
Today, I see the world in a completely different light than I did at 20.
Back then, I was all numbers and statistics. The scientific method was my bible. These days, I understand that’s just one way of thinking—one set of tools that shape how we see the world. But there are so many other ways of knowing, if we’re willing to go looking for them.
Polynesian navigators didn’t use the scientific method to navigate the Pacific, but they did it with incredible precision and reliability. They followed the science of a different world.
In English, we might say, “It’s windy.”
In te reo, we can say, “E riri ana a Tāwhirimātea” – Tāwhirimātea is angry.
Both describe the same thing, but the feeling behind them is completely different.
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Over the past six months, I’ve been in Latin America learning Spanish. It shares more in common with English than te reo Māori does, but still carries its own quirks that hint at a different way of thinking.
For example, in Spanish you don’t dream about someone. You dream with them. Sueño contigo.
My Spanish isn’t good enough yet to really unpack that, but even at a surface level, it reveals something. Something emotional, relational, and different to how I’ve been taught to see the world.
I’ve realised that to truly understand these kinds of expressions, you can’t just study from a textbook. You need to live in the language. The moment something is translated, it loses its context, meaning and depth slip away.
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So What’s This Got to Do with Design?
Learning multiple languages gives me multiple angles to view a problem from, and that opens up a wider range of possible solutions*. It also helps me see connections between worldviews. Underneath the differences, I’ve started to notice patterns and connect dots. New stories emerge, and those stories feed into my mahi.
More than that, I’ve found a deeper emotional connection to the work I create. When I look at what separates good design and great design, there is often something I can’t find words for. For me, this is the emotion showing through. As I started to experience other worldviews, I began to shape my own, unique view. I’ve developed my own sense of how things work, and what I want to say through my craft.
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In the past I lived in two worlds, one inside my work and one outside it. But as I’ve developed my reo, those lines have blurred. Speaking Māori, thinking Māori, being Māori—it’s all so much a part of me now that I can’t leave it at the door.
I started Kahurangi Studios to be that, an expression of my worldview. An extension of me.
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Moral of the Story: Learn a language - Inspiration is found in experiences!
*I know this problem-solving mindset is the English-speaking engineer’s brain talking. The irony isn’t lost on me!
