Left to right: Tobi Borungai, Shiva Lynn Burgos, and Chief Matthew Kuarchinj underneath the Ceremonial House Ceiling, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2025. Photo: Charmoli Ciarmoli

Appeasing Ancestral Spirits: A Conversation with Kwoma Artists Matthew Kuarchinj, Tobi Borungai, and Shiva Lynn Burgos

In a ceremony beneath the newly re-installed Kwoma Ceremonial House Ceiling in The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Chief Matthew Kuarchinj, Tobi Borungai, and Shiva Lynn Burgos performed a series of rituals to appease and release ancestral spirits within the work. For Kuarchinj and Borungai, this was not only their first trip to New York but also the first time they left Papua New Guinea; at The Met, they joined an international celebration inaugurating the museum’s spectacularly renovated Michael C. Rockefeller Wing for the arts of Africa, the Ancient Americas, and Oceania, which reopened in late May.

The Kwoma Ceiling is the museum’s largest contemporary installation and has been a pinnacle within the Oceania gallery since it first opened in 1982. Douglas Newton, The Met’s first curator of Oceanic art, travelled to Mariwai in the early 1970s, where he commissioned the painted panels that make up the work. Called pangal, they are created using sago palm leaf petioles, with motifs that communicate Kwoma clans’ beliefs and mythical knowledge, as well as histories and secrets. In Papua New Guinea, they hang within a korumb, or men’s spirit house, a sculptural structure serving as the center for spiritual, civic, and social life in the village.

The museum’s previous installation of 270 pangal didn’t, however, adhere to the Kwoma customs of form, hierarchy, and separation of clan symbols, and the museum’s renovation provided an opportunity to correct it. Through a unique collaboration, the museum’s Oceania curator, Maia Nuku, and archivists worked through The Mariwai Project—an organization that fosters opportunities for Papua New Guinea art and heritage founded by Burgos—who coordinated with the Kwoma artists (including Kuarchinj and Borungai, both descendants of original creators) to create a culturally and spiritually sensitive reconfiguration of the artwork.

This September marks the 50th anniversary of Papua New Guinea’s independence from Australia, with a range of global cultural initiatives celebrating Papua New Guinea art and heritage. I sat with Kuarchinj, Borungai, and Burgos (who translated from Tok Pisin when necessary) to discuss the ceremony, symbolism in the artwork, impressions of New York City, and what’s coming up next for Papua New Guinea on the world stage.

Installation view of the Kwoma Ceremonial House Ceiling within the Arts of Oceania Gallery, Michael C. Rockefeller Wing, Metropolitan Museum of Art. Photo: Paula Lobo

Maureen Sullivan: What was it like learning that the Kwoma Ceiling had been in New York City since the early 1970s? I recall Shiva saying that when she saw the artwork at The Met and recognized symbols of the Sepik River region, she immediately brought photos of it to Mariwai.
Tobi Borungai: When Shiva brought these pictures, we saw that these are our paintings, designs, and carvings. We had no idea it was in New York.
Matthew Kuarchinj: We were very worried about the spirits of our ancestors being so far away and not connected with us. That’s why we’ve come to visit and to bring the message back to our people.
MS: The three of you performed a private ceremony under the Kwoma Ceiling before the sunrise opening of The Met’s Arts of Oceania galleries. Can you describe the ceremony and your intentions?
TB: The ceremony is tok sori. First, we were alone in the work and kneeled in moments of silence, of acknowledgment of the spirits. Then we cried, and then we talked to the spirits, saying, “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Sorry my father, sorry my brother, my cousins, and relatives. We felt touched by the spirits, and our bodies were shaking.
MK: We had to see if this [artwork] was alive or dead. We realized it’s alive; the spirit energy is here.

MS: What are you grieving for, and did you feel acceptance for your apology?
TB:
The spirits of our ancestors have been taken from their home, so we are grieving this separation and that they have been left alone for so long in a faraway place. We are sorry we didn’t know they were here. We had received the message, but we didn’t fully believe it. Now that we are here, we feel connection with them. They can now be at peace so they can stay here, and we can take this message back to the village.
Shiva Lynn Burgos: The ceremony also acted as a bridge between the museum and the village. Being here, we are also creating legacy and acknowledging the work’s history and claiming space for its stories and its future. The objects here are just the bones of what has been collected; the blood and sinew and muscle come from the living.

Still from the video “The Kwoma Ceiling Commission” on view in the Michael C. Rockefeller Wing. Photo: © 2025 The Metropolitan Museum of Art

MS: New York City is all about fashion, and people have really been noticing you in your traditional ceremonial attire. What are some of the meanings associated with your body ornamentation?
TB: Yes, they stare a lot and take pictures with us. They tell us to smile, but I don’t like to because of my teeth. For the ceremony, we painted our faces and bands on our arms with clay. The white is mourning, and the red is happiness. The feathers [in the headdresses] are from our birds—birds of paradise, cassowary, pigeon—and the shells on our clothes and around our necks are from solwara [salt water], far from the village. The shells are valuable and traded for goods. I wore the necklace of my father, Mburrungei. It has bird feathers, cowrie shells, and wild pig tusks. 
SLB: Bilas, a PNG pidgin term for body adornment, is a crucial aspect of their self-beautification art. Made from natural materials like fibers, shells, bones, and feathers, bilas transforms the body into a living artwork. Each tribal group has developed unique styles reflecting their culture and connection to nature. It also signifies power, status, and cultural belonging. While elaborate bilas is used for ceremonies, simpler forms are worn daily, even in urban settings, as reminders of tribal allegiance and cultural identity.

MS: The new installation retains 170 of the original 270 pangal, creating a more accurate reflection of the traditional spirit house in form and order. Some panels that have sacred meanings and shouldn’t be seen by the public were removed. The abstract and figurative symbols painted on them have different messages and meanings; some we might not be able to understand because we don’t know the culture very well yet, and some are secret and not revealed outside the clan. Can you tell me about some of the imagery?
SLB: Kwoma ceilings display clan symbols on sago palm tree petioles, representing animals, plants, and supernatural beings. The Kiava (Kalaba) clan is known for the sun, moon, crocodile, and turtle. Wanyi clan uses the pig, cassowary, and crown pigeon. Other clans use taro and snake, for example. Then there are common symbols like the heart and stone, which are universal; they have no clan copyright. At first glance, we might see a graphic, colorful form; the initiated will recognize the spirit forms behind it. Once you know, you will always see them and feel their presence.

Detail of Kwoma Ceiling at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Photo: Maureen Sullivan

MS: These symbols—flying fox, crocodile, turtle—have appeared in traditional stories in Oceania and worldwide, associated with a profound connection with nature, as well as harmony, protection, power, strength, and the creation of the world. Tobi, your personal symbol, the crocodile, is also a symbol of resilience and adaptability. Do you think that helps the spirits of your ancestors to adapt to leaving the village and staying here?
TB: Yes. They can be at peace. We are very connected with nature and the animals of the forest and rivers. There are layers and layers of meanings here, but they are secret and must remain so. Some are sacred messages. Even in our clan, when young men are initiated, they only learn some of the secrets. And the crocodile is also silent—a silent killer!
MK: Our fathers had more power to talk to nature and our planet, but it was not passed down. Some of us were not in the village to receive it; we were moving around too much.

MS: This ceremonial house was made almost 50 years before your village’s new spirit house, which was completed in 2016. You told me that it took four years to build and is called Tokimba, from a customary naming ceremony. I’ve heard you refer to them as sister spirit houses. Do you feel they are connected?
TB: Yes, we create them in the same way as our ancestors. They are connected. Our village, our spirit, our culture, they are also still here in this house in New York.

Tokimba ceiling detail, 2016.  Mariwai, Papua New Guinea. Photo: Courtesy The Mariwai Project

MS: The Ceremonial Ceiling has natural and subdued tones and colors. In contrast, Tokimba has very bold and exuberant colors.
MK: The colors here are from clay in the ground. It’s all we had. Nowadays, we have more colorful paints brought by Shiva and other visitors. The brighter color attracts more energy, from the people that come to look at it and also from the spirits. It’s more like the birds and the colors in nature. 

MS: Like in many religions and cultures worldwide, women and men are separated for worship, activities, and responsibilities. I understand that only men are allowed in the ceremonial houses in PNG. You mentioned there are strong repercussions from nature if rules are broken—even death. How is it okay that women can enter it here?
TB: Women cannot enter spirit houses in our village, but they are part of ceremonies outside it. Only men paint the pangal, and women create other work including bilum [woven bags] and fire ceremonies; they dance and sing in response to our calls. It can have bad results if rules are broken. For example, if a woman wanted to have a baby but went against the rules, then she might not be able to. There are spirit energies and the spirits living in nature.
SLB: If the uninitiated enter into these spaces and places of knowledge, they will die. The black powers of nature will strike them down. There is also sorcery, known as sanguma, and forces and powers that will cause death. A chief of the village once said, “You don’t know how they will get you or when; you will just fall down on the ground and die.”
MK: This city, New York, is another part of the world, so it’s okay for everyone to enter. And Shiva is from outside and has been initiated into our clan, so she has been allowed into our ceremonies in our village.

Tokimba spirit house with performers in Mariwai, PNG. Photo: Courtesy The Mariwai Project

MS: Would you say it’s more of a sacred place in PNG, but here you might consider it more of an artwork? Is it okay to bring these works, with their connections to spirits, away from the village to other places in the world? 
TB: Yeah. These are different than at home; it is an artwork, but the spirits are present. It is okay as long as we appease the spirits.

MS: The renovated wing now displays 1,700 ancient and contemporary works, and is designed to fluidly connect ideas across nations, cultures, and time. Do you feel a kinship with Indigenous artists and their artworks from neighboring nations—New Zealand, Australia, Fiji, Solomon Islands, and more—that you’re seeing for the first time here at the museum? 
TB: Yes. We met so many interesting artists, and we noticed great admiration and kinship amongst the Oceanic groups. The Māori particularly acknowledged the Kwoma Ceiling as an important spirit house of worship. Everyone could feel the living energies. And many of their works are created of materials in nature and have many of the same symbols we use.
SLB: There was a special meeting between the Torres Strait Islanders and Northern Territory First Nations groups with PNG. Many representatives from the Pacific gathered under the Kwoma Ceiling and hugged, talked, and laughed. The ceiling united us all. We are all artists, in a long tradition of art which is presented globally in the world’s great museums and institutions. These connections often have complicated colonial histories and are preserved in a way that separates them from their people, place, and purpose. Today the people are here, and the soul and energy can only be conjured by the people; that is not for trade.

Our collaboration with The Met brings a sense of agency back to the source community, as architects of their own stories. It brings life to the museum and sets a precedent of recognition as a form of restitution.

Installation view of the Kwoma Ceremonial House Ceiling within the Arts of Oceania Gallery, Michael C. Rockefeller Wing, Metropolitan Museum of Art. Photo: Bruce Schwarz

MS: What do you hope people experience as they encounter the Ceremonial House Ceiling?
ML: We hope they will feel the spirits; the spirits radiating.

MS: This is your first time ever leaving Papua New Guinea. I can’t imagine what a shock it must be to land in New York. What are your highlights and impressions? Have you been bitten by the travel bug?
TB: We don’t want to leave. We didn’t really believe we were coming. It was talked about for a while, and Shiva got us passports, but we didn’t see them. We thought maybe we were just going somewhere in PNG, like Port Moresby. She told us to pack our things for a ceremony, so we did, and we didn’t tell anyone in the village we were going. We flew for like 30 hours, stopping in an airport in Hong Kong. It was really cramped.
MK: We want to come back and spend more time here, and we want to go everywhere.
TB: People are so welcoming. When we arrived, a man who lives here and collects art from our country took us on a three-hour boat ride around the island of New York, and we saw the tall buildings, Statue of Liberty, and bridges. His boat was even painted by an artist [Alexis Rockman].

Here it feels very heavy, with tall buildings, so many cars, and everything moves so fast. And the city goes up and down—under the ground! And everyone is always busy, walking and talking on phones. They talk a lot.
MK: It seemed strange; we didn’t know that anyone knew about our clan and our art, or was thinking of us. We heard about Douglas Newton, that he came and collected work, but that was such a long time ago. And now they [anthropologists Virginia Lee-Webb and Christian Kaufmann] brought out many papers with pictures and asked us questions about who people were. We saw pictures [by Newton’s wife Kathleen] of our village, our uncles, and our brother Tim as a child. They were very excited about that.

Left to right: Tobi Borungai and Chief Matthew Kuarchinj. Photo: Maureen Sullivan

MS: It is important that the names of the ancestors are listed with the artwork. For too long, art from Oceania, the Ancient Americas, and Africa has been anonymous, not acknowledging the artists. What do you dream will happen next?
MK: We want to bring more from our village to see the spirit house in New York and give it the naming ceremony, like in our village of dancing and drumming and honoring the spirits. There we do it for many days, five days and five nights, but maybe here they’ll let us do it for one day.
TB: And build another new spirit house in the museum, in full color like the one in our village, as a sister to keep it company. 
SLB: This September, PNG celebrates its 50th anniversary of independence. Beyond the installation and work at The Met, The Mariwai Project is continuing to organize exhibitions and programs worldwide, working with over 40 museums in 14 countries for the WanBel Global Art Exhibition to showcase contemporary works emerging from remote areas and create respectful cultural exchange. We’ve already sent artwork and images of the ancestral ceremonies from East Sepik province to the moon, part of the lunar mission “Pyramid on the Moon.”