Too Much Hula? No Way
Too Much Hula? No Way.
April 22, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorEDITH KANAKA'OLE STADIUM, Hilo, Hawai'i — Hula'd out? I thought I was until I got here last night and encountered the scent of plumeria and the looks on the dancers' faces and the ideas that still have the capacity to surprise and charm me even after four days of watching rehearsal, the Ho'ike performance and three nights of competition.
One thing that never ceases to amaze me is how it is that a particular color, style of costume or choreographic approach will suddenly appear in a cluster of performances, as though the kumu hula had been channeling the same creative source or something.
This year, the confluences included hula noho (seated hula); implements (especially the kala'au sticks, the 'uli'uli feathered gourd, the bamboo rattle and the 'ili'ili castanet stones); songs for and about Queen Emma; strapless gowns; touches of eyelet, lace and/or organza; and particular shades of green, peach, orange, periwinkle and lavender — did you notice the lavender grass skirts worn by Chinky Mahoe's women in their kahiko performance and the peacock detail on the feather rattles used by Rich Pedrina's kane?
In choreography, it was impressive to watch several halau work in extremely tight formations, their arms overlapping and almost moving as a single unit. In fact, a couple were so closely grouped that judge Kawaikapuokalani Hewett walked over to a position where he could actually see the position of their feet and check their lines. (I'd never seen this before, but it's allowed; judges and press photographers are the only ones allowed to be moving when a performance is going on.)
A number of halau showed a willingness to take risks with costuming, and move beyond the usual. As I write this, I'm watching Glenn Vasconcellos' wahine 'auana performance, in which the women dancing "Old Plantation" are wearing bonnet-like hats covered in orchids, each with a single feather floating jauntily as they move about. Earlier this evening, Keli'i Chang from Texas dressed his men in T-shirts and fatigue pants (which did NOT look comfortable to dance in) for a tribute to Hawai'i's active-duty military. Less successfully, Chang's women wore immense Spanish-style hair combs for their 'auana number; no one seemed to know what the connection might be to Hawai'i or the hula.
But the big tradition-breaker in costuming was clothing dancers in contrasting outfits. Kumu hula Snowbird Bento did it in her wahine kahiko number, set on Kaua'i in the time of Queen Emma, with each dancer wearing a different-patterned calico-print puff-sleeve top with a loose, gathered skirt in yet another fabric. This really worked; the women did actually look like a group of young ladies in waiting, accompanying their queen on a horseback outing. And Leina'ala Heine Kalama's young women wore different prints of the same dress design in all manner of bright colors for their 'auana number. There were at least half a dozen halau that took this route.
Exits and entrances are another area where kumu hula often express their individuality. My favorite of these was Manu Boyd's; the kumu himself danced in as he chanted the 'oli for his group's kahiko performance — and why should we have to wait for the ballot-counting, when the stage is open to all kumu hula, to see them dance? I know there is a tradition of hanging up your hula skirt once you 'uniki, but they are the source of all this knowledge, after all.
To paraphrase Robert Cazimero last year after winning the kane overall division, tomorrow is business as usual again, back to our pre-hula lives. Exhausted and burdened with Big Island Candies shopping bags, the sound of the pahu still sounding in our inner ears, we'll board our planes for home — but not before filling out the reservation forms for our hotel rooms for next year. Because planning for Merrie Monarch 2007 begins now.
Love and Aloha
Miss Aloha Hula credits the spirit of the classic romance she danced
April 22, 2006 / Honolulu Star Bulletin, Burl BurlingameBefore taking the stage, Bernice Alohanamakanamaikalanimai Davis-Lim of halau Na Lei O Kaholoku
closed her eyes in meditation.
She felt the spirit of a love-lorn ancient Hawaiian chiefess enter her. As the music started, she breathed deeply and opened her eyes, and from that point Thursday night, the Kohala dancer was the clear audience favorite to win the 2006 crown of Miss Aloha Hula at the Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo.
Wearing a pure white dress and dancing with poised restraint, Davis-Lim often drew Beatlesque screams from the audience as dancers from other halau watched with rapt expressions.
Davis-Lim's first production was "Ho'ohiki Pili Aloha," a tale of unrequited love in ancient Hawaii that took place in Kohala. She danced to a minimalist metronomic beat that contrasted with the often grandiose music from other performers; she revved it up near the end.
Her second selection, in the auwana department, was Kawaikapuokalani Hewett's aching "Ka 'Eha A Kealoha," another love song.
Although Miss Aloha Hula is a solo award, it's a family affair. Na Lei O Kaholoku kumu Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Amina are Davis-Lim's aunts; Amina's skills as a land-title researcher uncovered many stories about Kohala that touched the hearts of the halau, and Yap has coached Davis-Lim since she was a child.
"She's a veteran at solo hula," said Yap. "At 13 she won Miss Hula na Keiki on Maui. We'd actually been planning to take a little break from competing this year, but Bernice felt so strongly about this that we went forward.
"We love doing the research in creating a dance, to carry on the kahiko tradition. We always try to pick meles from where we come from, in Kohala. My sister finds the land documents that contain the background for the meles, and then we create the spiritual side and let that guide the creation.
"Our ancestors help us along. ... We feel truly guided."
It is not quite the classic hula epics of Hiiaka and Lohiau -- ancient Hawaii's version of Tristan and Isolde -- but there was an elegant simplicity and visual metaphor to the tale of Kohala's legendary chiefess Poliahu that appealed to the Kohala halau.
As the legend goes, Poliahu falls for Aiwohikupua, a chief from Wailua, Kauai, just as he is taking his leave of the Big Island. Aiwohikupua is so smitten that he wants to marry her immediately, but that is not to be. As symbols of their love, they exchange cloaks, his of feathers and hers of snow, which can be seen today nestling the high peak of Mauna Kea.
"I loved the story from the moment I first read it," said Davis-Lim. "I was consumed. I couldn't stop reading everything I could about Poliahu. It's such a good story."
"I was raised in Kohala. It's where my parents and grandparents are from. It's a very special place to me," said Davis-Lim. "When kumu Leialoha stumbled on the story of Poliahu, who was from Kohala, we knew it was a story we had to tell, because it wasn't well known."
Research provided names and places, and Davis-Lim made it a point to visit each site to absorb the area's energy.
"It helps your imaging to know exactly what happened, to walk where they once walked, as if they are walking through you."
This intense preparation made the performance an emotional experience.
"I didn't even see anyone in the audience. Apparently, my sister was right in front of me. I closed my eyes, and a presence took me to a different realm entirely. It was like Poliahu wanted to bring her story to life; it was playing like a movie in my head," said Davis-Lim, her voice still full of wonder the day after. "It was like I was meant for this purpose."
Her dress was as purely white as the driven snow, and that was on purpose. It represents the mantle of mountain snow that symbolizes Poliahu's love. Because of the traditional aspects, Davis-Lim preferred the kahiko portion of the competition, but thinks Kawaikapuokalani Hewett's lovely song "Ka 'Eha A Ka Aloha" was also perfect, because -- naturally -- it's about Poliahu.
"This is all very much about Poliahu," said Davis-Lim. "After I left the stage, I was grasped and told I did her justice, that Poliahu was very proud. But I knew, I knew. A weird chill went through the auditorium, telling us she was present -- it felt like a misty rain."
Davis-Lim, a hotel telephone operator in nonhula life, negotiated a leave of absence, would like to travel a little to share her hula but conforms she will always return to Kohala. Even during the Merrie Monarch, she and her aunties commute each day to Hilo from Waimea.
"Waimea is such a cute little town, it wraps around me like a warm blanket," said Davis-Lim. "It's like stepping back 10 years, to a time of no worries."
Davis-Lim was still in the afterglow of her performance and overwhelmed by shrieking noise from other contestants when it sounded like she had won third place. Pushed toward the stage, she dreamily accepted the drum trophy. "I was walking down the ramp, and they announced the actual name of the winner.
"I thought, wait, that's not my name. Oh my God! Then they came and said, 'Uh, that's not yours.' I freaked!"
She was recalled to the stage for the top honor a few minutes later. It will make a good story for her grandkids. Maybe not as good a story as that of Poliahu, but these are modern times.
Miss Aloha Hula finds 'The Zone'
April 22, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorWhen the new Miss Aloha Hula talks about the snow goddess Poli'ahu and her lover, Chief
'Aiwohikupua, she sounds like she's talking about the kind of star-crossed couple we all know: People who love each other, but just can't make it work.
It is this — her intimate understanding of the ancient tale she interpreted in her kahiko and 'auana numbers Thursday night — that allowed Bernice Alohanamakanamaikalanimai Davis-Lim to find "the zone" during her performance, leaving behind all sense of the present to become the beguiled, abandoned and longing Poli'ahu.
"I was in another world," she said Friday morning, perched on a couch in a friend's Waimea home where Na Lei O Kaholoku is staying during the Merrie Monarch Festival. "I was exactly where the story was, playing the movie in my mind." Her sister is convinced Davis-Lim made eye contact with her during the dance, "but I didn't see anyone — I wasn't even there."
Afterward, she said, she cried with gladness. Davis-Lim is convinced that "the story was appreciated. She heard me. She saw me. She knew I told her story — Poli'ahu."
Davis-Lim, 21, is a member of the sprawling Lim family of Kohala. Her grandmother is matriarch Mary Ann Lim; her mother, former hula dancer Charmaine Lim Davis. Her proud dad, who Thursday night looked ready to burst as he watched her being interviewed on television, is William "Sam" Davis. The family lives in Waikoloa.
Mary Ann Lim said that as her granddaughter danced, she was thinking of "Papa," the late Elmer Lim Sr. "She was the apple of his eye," the elder Lim recalled. "His punahele (the favorite)," a cousin agreed.
The Lims are known alike for their popular singing troupe, the much-lauded halau taught by her aunts, Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Lim Amina, and the number of awards the children and grandchildren have won in solo competition. Davis-Lim won the Miss Keiki Hula competition at Maui's Hula O Na Keiki competition in 1998, when she was 13 years old, a title her Auntie Lorna Lim had won before.
The Lims are also known for their devotion to their Kohala home, and their commitment to researching and sharing its stories.
The Poli'ahu story is typical. Amina has delved deeply into the snow goddess legend and found that it had rarely been fully told, and that it had an important Kohala connection: The couple pledged their love by exchanging her snow mantle for his feather cape after a canoe journey along the coast to Kohala. This was the story Davis-Lim interpreted in her kahiko number, which was written jointly by the kumu and their student.
In addition, Davis-Lim performed a contemporary song about Poli'ahu, written by Kawaikapuokalani Hewett (also a Merrie Monarch judge).
The story of the couple's elaborate wedding was the focus of the halau's group kahiko song last
night.
Davis-Lim said that, to her, hula means family first and foremost. "We may have our differences, but when it's time to hula, we're all in it together. It is what we have in common," she said.
Additionally, "it's a vehicle for expressing feelings that it's hard to express any other way," Davis-Lim said.
When she was working on her 'auana number, whose title means "the pain of love," Davis-Lim turned to her Auntie Lorna for help.
"It was difficult for me to grasp that — love and pain together," Davis-Lim said. She wasn't sure how to show the extremes without looking like a harlequin mask.
"Make it like a longing desire," her aunt told her. "The pain comes from the desire."
For Davis-Lim, hula became a "longing desire" early. She remembers hanging around the halau when she was too young to participate. Lorna Lim, youngest of her mother's sisters, then and now a frontline dancer for Na Lei O Kaholoku, was her idol. Davis-Lim would show up at Auntie's house many afternoons to receive informal instruction.
Later, people would say Davis-Lim danced just like Lorna.
Davis-Lim just wishes she'd inherited Lorna's voice as well. "I like to sing, but that doesn't mean I sing well," she said, with a laugh.
Like all Miss Aloha Hula candidates, Davis-Lim has had to put hula at the center of her life in recent months. She studied Hawaiian language for two years at the University of Hawai'i-Hilo, but gave it up because the halau travels so much. She had a job she loved at the Fairmont Orchid Hotel but resigned after her kumu hula chose her as Miss Aloha Hula candidate last summer. She has been something of a hermit the past few months, declining friends' invitations because she was in training.
Davis-Lim, who cheerfully admits that she's not a size 3 and never expects to be, says preparing for the Miss Aloha Hula competition has been a pathway back to good health for her, helping her shed pounds and strengthen her knees, which had begun to suffer when she packed on the pounds in college ("living in Hilo with Taco Bell open at 1 a.m."). But she's also happy to represent the dreams of normal-size women who fear to compete.
"I always told myself they would never let me win, that I would have to work harder and go over the top to have even a chance," she said. "There was a lot of hard work, but it was worth it, totally worth it."
Lim Family Triumphs Again
April 21, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorNo matter what TV announcer Kimo Kahoano said, there was never a doubt: Bernice Davis-Lim outscored her closest competitor by more than 20 points to become Miss Aloha Hula 2006 at the Merrie Monarch Hula Festival Thursday night.
Her mother, Charmaine Lim Davis knew it: "The feeling was magical tonight. She was on a different level. Her performance was out of body, like."
Kahoano apparently got the wrong information, or misread the winner list and accidentally announced first and second place in reverse, resulting in a hubbub around the scorer's desk and no little embarrassment. But that all washed away in the tears of joy.
Davis-Lim, a member of the Kohala-based Lim family of music and hula fame, made the family prooud with a pair of dances that celebrated the love of the snow goddess Poli(okina)ahu for an earthly chief.
Here's the breakdown of winners of Thursday evening's Merrie Monarch Miss Aloha hula competition:
1. Bernice Alohanamakanamaikalanimai Davis-Lim, Na Lei O Kaholoku, Kohala, Hawai'i; kumu hula Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Lim Amina; 1164 points.
2. Makalani Hanau I Ka Manawa Ua Kipalale Mai Kuahiwi Sarai Pukuna Himsa Franco-Francis, Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka, Kula, Maui; kumu hula Napua Greig and Kahulu Maluo-Huber;1138 points.
3. Kapalai'ula Kamakaleiakawainui de Silva, Halau Mohala 'Ilima, Ka'ohau, O'ahu; kumu hula Mapuana de Silva; 1129 points.
4. Ka'enaalohaokau'ikaukehakeha Aoe Hopkins, Halau I Ka Wekiu, Honolulu; kumu hula Carl Veto Baker and Michael Nalanakila Casupang;1128 points.
5. Tatiana Kawehiokalani Miu Lan Tseu, Ka Leo O Laka I Ka Hikina O Ka La, Kapalama, O'ahu; Kaleo Trinidad;1122 points.
Office of Hawaiian Affairs Hawaiian Language Award: Ka'enaalohaokau'ikaukehakeha Aoe Hopkins, Halau I Ka Wekiu, Honolulu; kumu hula Carl Veto Baker and Michael Nalanakila Casupang.
Merrie Monarch: A 'Grounded' Miss Aloha Hula Competition
April 20, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorHILO, Hawai'i — It's the year of the hula noho, the kneeling hula, the squat-walking hula, the-leaning-back-until-your-hair-sweeps-the-stage hula, the-leaning-over-until-it-seems-impossible-that-you'll-stay-upright hula. At least, that's the way it seemed during the kahiko portion of the 43d annual Merrie Monarch Festival Miss Aloha Hula competition Thursday night.
Of the first 10 Miss Aloha Hula candidates, six spent much of their time close to the ground, not only dancing while seated but also executing deep squatting and bending moves, drawing screams of admiration from a hula-savvy crowd that knows just what it takes to perform these moves — let alone to perform them with breath left over for trilling an 'oli.
After the athleticism, breath control and general power exhibited by the 16 women competitors, it's difficult to imagine what borders are left to cross. How can you best performances like that of Makalani Franco-Francis of Maui's Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka? She chanted so strongly every word was audible, clicked 'ili'ili stones all the while to punctuate the moves of the dance and spent three-quarters of her time on stage on her knees, working from her stomach muscles instead of her feet — a trifecta of difficulty all but the most experienced hula dancers would quail to attempt.
Even in this most conservative of hula environments, where the judges are believed to frown on innovation, every performance illustrated how far hula has come from the mid-20th century days when hapa-haole ditties prevailed and a fresh grass skirt was the heighth of autenticity. In the depth of research that accompanies the learning of a dance, the skill of contemporary chant-writing, developments in costuming, instrument construction, lei artistry and every other art and craft attendant on a hula performance, the sophistication is startling. Kumu hula will tell you much of this modern-day work is inspired by the ancients — not just through such empirical means as newly translated Hawaiian language materials, but also in more mystical forms, through ideas that appear in dreams, during meditations or visits to historic places.
As I sit here during intermission, with people around me handicapping the competition, talking over who appears to them to have winner potential, I, too, am thinking about what makes a great hula performance. And it's not just technique or beautiful adornments or a good teacher — every one of the competitors here has those. It is the abillity to inhabit the story, to put on the characters and the action like a new skin. Of the dancers we've seen Thursday night, perhaps two were able to remain within the sacred confines of the mo'olelo for the entirety of their performance. These seemed to forget — and caused the viewer to forget — that it is a performance, an artificial construct, on a stage with annoying lights and photographers buzzing around and people who are rude enough to use cell phones while the show is on.
When this happens, when the dancer is serving the story, magic happens. And it's worth waiting for.
• • •
Back down to earth, a few things to report:
If you were watching on television, you may have noticed closed-captioning for the Merrie Monarch hula competition for the first time. It's now required by law. The closed-captioning is being handled for KITV by a firm in Maryland, which must be having an interesting time of it. All the scripted material was sent to them, but there is a great deal of ad-libbing by the announcers and commentators during Merrie Monarch, and it must be a challenge for a Mainland transcription expert to make sense of all those Hawaiian words and names. By the way, the law doesn't require that Hawaiian be translated, so viewers are on their own.
• • •
Don't know if the TV audience got this, but Kimo Kahoano gave the audience in the stadium quite a tongue-lashing about the use of cell phones after he noticed someone chattering away on camera during the first performance. He reminded everyone sitting in the area behind the stage that they are within camera range and then scolded, "After this girl came all the way from Texas, she is going to see you doing your cell phone trip while she is performing." The audience cheered.
Behind the Scenes at the Merrie Monarch
April 20, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorWhat's new on the Merrie Monarch stage? I was struck by these sights last night:
• Na Palapalai sang a cappella onstage for Miss Aloha Hula candidate Kapalai'ula Kamakaleiakawainui de Silva of Halau Mohala 'Ilima. This was arresting for two reasons: Kumu hula Mapuana de Silva usually isn't one to break new ground, and the musicians usually perform all but anonymously, down in the musical pit at the rear of the stage. To bring them onstage, kumu de Silva had to take the risk that their unplugged performance might not come off — it takes strong voices to fill this cavernous, high-ceilinged place. But she made a good choice: Placing the musicians so close to the dancer, and leaving them unamplified, leant a lovely, relaxed party hula air to this auana performance. Kumu de Silva (yes, she's Kapalai'ula's mom) stood with the band, beaming, throughout.
• Two small things popped up in the dances of different halau. Several soloists skipped the kaholo (the characteristic, arms-out vamp that fills in between verses), instead pausing in an expressive position until the next verse began. Less successfully to my eyes, the choreography of several dances included a move that can only be called twirling — not the classic three-quarter turn or the "around the island" vamp, but a one-footed pivot that just doesn't look like hula to me. (But I admit that I'm little more than a party hula wanna-be.)
• In costuming, trends included strapless, princess-line dresses of classy simplicity for auana, often in satin or velvet, contrasting colored underskirts peeking out from under wider overskirts in both kahiko and auana and, in color, green, particularly a shade I'm tempted to call Martha Stewart green — the hue of a fresh spring lettuce.
• Among the hot topics in Hilo this week has been flowers: whether there'd be any in the aftermath of the long, rainy winter. This is important because faux flowers are not allowed in competition at Merrie Monarch and because the halau are required to employ flowers appropriate to the dance and to list the major adornments they will employ in advance in the detailed reports they provide for the judges. During Miss Aloha Hula, there was a huge amount of lehua — that being a flower that grows like a weed in Hilo — as well as the usual palapalai fern and maile. But there were also the elaborate floral hairpieces you expect in auana.
Merrie Monarch: Ho'ike, Happenings on Eve of Competition
April 20, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorSome early morning reflections from the Ho'ike concert and Wednesday happenings at the Merrie Monarch Festival hula competition:
FA'A SAMOA
The hit of Wednesday night's free Ho'ike concert, the traditional kickoff to the hula competition, was not hula but a Samoan tradition that brought dozens of Islanders up onto the stage in a free-for-all like none I've seen at Merrie Monarch.
After a spirited and very well-received performance, Tupulaga O Samoa Ma Taeao, a troupe from the University of Hawai'i at Hilo, announced that their finale would be a ceremony that is generally carried out by the daughter of a chief.
Arrayed in full regalia (wrapped tapa sarong, fine mat skirt, towering tuiga — a headress of feathers and hair), and with her arms, legs and shoulders glistening with coconut oil, the young dancer playing the role of the chief's daughter was escorted on stage, a chanter boastfully announcing her, dancers bowing before her.
She began a shuffling, hand-waving dance that was subtle and dignified but somehow also coy and provocative. Soon, dollar bills were flying everywhere. You see, the object of this dance is to pay tribute — literally — by attempting to glue money to the dancer's oiled arms and shoulders. The crowd got into this one so enthusiastically that members of the security force had to hold back those lined up on the ramps for fear the stage would collapse under the weight of so many bearing gifts. Samoans in the audience joined the cast, dancing gracefully while the money frenzy ensued — a bonus that will help support the activities of this club that promotes Samoan culture on campus.
IT'S AN HONOR
Before events got under way at the Ho'ike, George Applegate of the Hawai'i Island Visitor's Bureau presented longtime Merrie Monarch executive director Auntie Dottie Thompson with the organization's annual award, recognizing one who has contributed to the preservations of the Hawaiian lifestyle, heritage or culture.
"She is the heart and soul of the festival and, I might add, she did this without pay and with her own style and grace," Applegate said.
Thompson, who is not much for fuss and folderol, accepted the award with a smile but declined the microphone in favor of getting the show going.
And while we're on the success of the festival, if last night's Ho'ike is any indication, this may be the most crowded year yet.
Last night, there were already people prowling the grounds of the Edith Kanaka'ole Stadium with "Need Ticket" signs for the upcoming nights of competition (no tickets are needed for Ho'ike).
There are fewer seats than ever for the competition this year: About 2,900 when you set aside seating for participating halau and VIPs. One reason for this is a heightened concern on the part of fire marshals nationally about crowding at public events; this resulted in the loss of 200 seats in 2004 to make room for fire exits. This year, 200 more seats were removed to make away for a seating area for persons who use wheelchairs.
JAPAN CONNECTION
Among those in Hilo for this week's events is a reporting team from Hula Le'a, one of two Japanese magazines that focus on hula. Subtitled "Stylish Hula & Hawaii Magazine," this quarterly is as thick as a Neighbor Island phone book and plump enough in the pocket to bring its publisher, a reporter and photographer and a bilingual O'ahu freelancer to Hilo for what has been called "hula's Olympiad."
Earlier this week, leimaker Na'ea Nae'ole took the reporter and photographer on an excursion into the mountains where he was gathering greenery for Halau O Kekuhi; he is among those being profiled in a series on masters of Hawaiian crafts.
Last night at the free Ho'ike concert, the reporting team was busy interviewing Japanese visitors in the audience and shooting pictures of the performances, which included the Japanese troupe, Hula Halau Kahula O Hawaii, which won competition set in Hilo's sister city, Ikano, earning them the right to appear on the Merrie Monarch stage.
16 Vie for Honor as Miss Aloha Hula
April 20, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorWhile Maile Francisco makes her final bow as outgoing Merrie Monarch Festival Miss Aloha Hula tonight in Hilo, 16 other young women in the Edith Kanaka'ole Stadium will be trembling with a kind of nervous anticipation that only a past contestant can fully appreciate.
In this, the opening night of the three-day hula competition that is part of the one-week celebration of Hilo and all things hula, the women are competing for the honor of serving as a hula focal point for the coming year — Miss Aloha Hula receives dozens of requests to perform and appear around the world — and for the prestigious Hawaiian language award. Past competitors have parlayed their time on the unassuming plywood stage into work in broadcast and the music industry, jobs in the hotel industry and positions as kumu hula of their own halau.
This year's Miss Aloha Hula competitors (in alphabetical order by last name, followed by halau name, halau location and kumu hula (teacher):
• Carly Makanani Ah Sing, Ka Pa Hula 'O Kauanoe O Wa'ahila, Honolulu; kumu hula
• Maelia Loebenstein Carter. Faye Lei U'i Brigoli, Hula Halau O Lilinoe, Carson, Calif.; kumu hula Sissy Lilinoe Kaio.
• Bianca Kulia Kaleinani Costa, Ka Pa Hula O Ka Lei Lehua, Honolulu; kumu hula Snowbird Puananiopaoakalani Bento.
• Bernice Alohanamakanamaikalanimai Davis-Lim, Na Lei O Kaholoku, Kohala, Hawai'i; kumu hula Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Lim Amina.
• Kapalai'ula Kamakaleiakawainui de Silva, Halau Mohala 'Ilima, Ka'ohau, O'ahu; kumu hula Mapuana de Silva.
• Jhameel Lewalani Sachiko Duarte, Keolalaulani Halau 'olapa O Laka, Kane'ohe, O'ahu; kumu hula Aloha Dalire.
• Makalani Hanau I Ka Manawa Ua Kipalale Mai Kuahiwi Sarai Pukuna Himsa Franco-Francis, Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka, Kula, Maui; kumu hula Napua Greig and Kahulu Maluo-Huber.
• Anelaokalani Leon-Guerrero, Halau Ho'ola Ka Mana O Hawai'i, Dallas, Texas; kumu hula Keli'i Chang.
• Ka'enaalohaokau'ikaukehakeha Aoe Hopkins, Halau I Ka Wekiu, Honolulu; kumu hula Carl Veto Baker and Michael Nalanakila Casupang.
• Laura Ke'alanoana Imai, Halau Hula O Napunaheleonapua, Honolulu; kumu hula Rich Pedrina.
• Sharde Kamalamalamaonalani Mersberg, Hula Halau O Kamuela, Kalihi/Waimanalo, O'ahu; kumu hula Kau'ionalani Kamana'o and Kunewa Mook.
• Moanike'ala Nabarro, Halau Hula Olana, Pu'uloa, O'ahu; kumu hula Howard and Olana Ai.
• Tatiana Kawehiokalani Miu Lan Tseu, Ka Leo O Laka I Ka Hikina O Ka La, Kapalama, O'ahu; Kaleo Trinidad.
• Sharay Uemura, Halau O Ke 'Anuenue, Hilo, Hawai'i; kumu hula Glenn Kelena Vasconcellos.
• Aisha Kilikina Kanoelani Valmoja, Halau O Na Pua Kukui, O'ahu; kumu hula Ed Collier.
• Stephanie Makalapua Lum Yee, Halau Ke Kia'i A O Hula, Kalihi, O'ahu; kumu hula Kapi'olani Ha'o.
2006 Miss Aloha Hula Candidates, Halau
April 20, 2006 / Honolulu AdvertiserMiss Aloha Hula
This year's competitors (in alphabetical order by last name, followed by halau name and kumu hula (teacher)
• Carly Makanani Ah Sing, Ka Pa Hula 'O Kauanoe O Wa'ahila, Honolulu; kumu hula Maelia Loebenstein Carter.
• Faye Lei U'i Brigoli, Hula Halau O Lilinoe, Carson, Calif.; kumu hula Sissy Lilinoe Kaio.
• Bianca Kulia Kaleinani Costa, Ka Pa Hula O Ka Lei Lehua, Honolulu; kumu hula Snowbird Puananiopaoakalani Bento.
• Bernice Alohanamakanamaikalanimai Davis-Lim, Na Lei O Kaholoku, Kohala, Hawai'i; kumu hula Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Lim Amina.
• Kapalai'ula Kamakaleiakawainui de Silva, Halau Mohala 'Ilima, Ka'ohau, O'ahu; kumu hula Mapuana de Silva.
• Jhameel Lewalani Sachiko Duarte, Keolalaulani Halau 'olapa O Laka, Kane'ohe, O'ahu; kumu hula Aloha Dalire.
• Makalani Hanau I Ka Manawa Ua Kipalale Mai Kuahiwi Sarai Pukuna Himsa Franco-Francis, Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka, Kula, Maui; kumu hula Napua Greig and Kahulu Maluo-Huber.
• Anelaokalani Leon-Guerrero, Halau Ho'ola Ka Mana O Hawai'i, Dallas, Texas; kumu hula Keli'i Chang.
• Ka'enaalohaokau'ikaukehakeha Aoe Hopkins, Halau I Ka Wekiu, Honolulu; kumu hula Carl Veto Baker and Michael Nalanakila Casupang.
• Laura Ke'alanoana Imai, Halau Hula O Napunaheleonapua, Honolulu; kumu hula Rich Pedrina.
• Sharde Kamalamalamaonalani Mersberg, Hula Halau O Kamuela, Kalihi/Waimanalo, O'ahu; kumu hula Kau'ionalani Kamana'o and Kunewa Mook.
• Moanike'ala Nabarro, Hulau Hula Olana, Pu'uloa, O'ahu; kumu hula Howard and Olana Ai.
• Tatiana Kawehiokalani Miu Lan Tseu, Ka Leo O Laka I Ka Hikina O Ka La, Kapalama, O'ahu; Kaleo Trinidad.
• Sharay Uemura, Halau O Ke 'Anuenue, Hilo, Hawai'i; kumu hula Glenn Kelena Vasconcellos.
• Aisha Kilikina Kanoelani Valmoja, Halau O Na Pua Kukui, O'ahu; kumu hula Ed Collier.
• Stephanie Makalapua Lum Yee, Halau Ke Kia'i A O Hula, Kalihi, O'ahu; kumu hula Kapi'olani Ha'o.Group competition
Listed are halau followed by hula teacher
• Academy of Hawaiian Arts, Oakland, Calif.; kumu hula Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu
• Beamer-Solomon Halau O Po'ohala, Waimea, Hawai'i; Hulali Solomon-Covington
• Halau Ho'ola Ka Mana O Hawai'i, Dallas, Tex.; kumu hula Keli'i Chang
• Halau Hula O Hokulani, Central O'ahu; kumu hula Hokulani De Rego
• Halau Hula Olana, Pu'uloa, Oahu; kumu hula Howard and Olana A'i
• Halau Hula O Napunaheleonapua, Honolulu; kumu hula Rich Pedrina
• Halau Hula 'O Kawailiula, Kailua, Oahu; kumu hula Chinky Mahoe
• Halau I Ka Wekiu, Honolulu; kumu ula Carl Veto Baker and Michael Nalanakila Casupang
• Halau Ke Kia'i A O Hula, Honolulu; kumu hula Kapi'olani Ha'o
• Halau Mohala 'Ilima, Ka'ohau, O'ahu; kumu hula Mapuana de Silva
• Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka, Kula, Maui; kumu hula Napua Grieg and Kahulu Maluo-Huber
• Halau O Ke 'A'ali'i Ku Makani, Kane'ohe, O'ahu; kumu hula Manu Boyd
• Halau O Ke 'Anuenue, Hilo, Hawai'i; kumu hula Glenn Kalena Vasconcellos
• Halau O Na Pua Kukui, Honolulu; kumu hula Ed Collier
• Hula Halau O Kamuela, Kalihi/Waimanalo; kumu hula Kau'ionalani Kamana'o and Kunewa Mook
• Hula Halau O Kou Lima Nani E, Hilo, Hawai'i; kumu hula Iwalani Kalima
• Hula Halau O Lilinoe, Carson, Calif.; kumu hula Sissy Lilinoe Kaio
• Ka Leo O Laka I Ka Hikina O Ka La, Honolulu; kumu hula Kaleo Trinidad
• Ka Pa Hula 'O Kauanoe o Wa'ahila, Honolulu; kumu hula Maelia Loebenstein Carter
• Ka Pa Hula O Ka Lei Lehua, Honolulu; kumu hula Snowbird Puananiopaoakalani Bento
• Keolalaulani Halau 'Olapa O Laka, Kane'ohe, Oahu; kumu hula Aloha Dalire
• Na Lei O Kaholoku, Kohala, Hawai'i; Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Lim Amina
• Na Pua Me Ke Aloha, Carson, Calif.; Sissy Lilinoe Kaio
• Na Pualai o Likeolehua, Honolulu; kumu hula Leina'ala Kalama-Heine
Merrie Monarch Journal: from Hilo
April 19, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorEditor's note: This is the second journal posting from Wanda Adams, who is on site at the Merrie Monarch Festival.
On the Merrie Monarch stage during rehearsals this Wednesday morning, the contrasts could not have been more sharp, or more indicative of hula's vitality.
At 8 a.m., the stage belonged to Hula Halau Kahula O Hawaii, the Tokyo-based school of Kyoko
Kubokawa. Kubokawa brought 93 of her 500 (yes, 500) students to the festival. The 91 women and two lone men will dance this evening during the annual Ho'ike, a free evening of entertainment offered to the citizens of Hilo as a thank you for putting up with the traffic jams, crowded stores and other byproducts of the annual Merrie Monarch Festival hula competition.
Kubokawa, who 17 years ago began studying with Merrie Monarch co-founder Uncle George Na'ope, and later with Leina'ala Kalama Heine, made the most of her troupe, dividing them into sub-groups that flow on and off the stage. They are performing a medley of familiar songs praising the mountain peaks of Maui, O'ahu, Kaua'i and the Big Island. And they come fully equipped with 'uli'uli (feathered rattle), pu'ili (split bamboo) and ipu (gourd drum), and each wearing at least an entire plant's worth of fresh, green ti leaves.
Kubokawa moved quietly around the perimeter of the stage, watching her students, occasionally
correcting or explaining. The dancers knew their moves and rarely came up wrong-footed. But there is a certain formality, almost a stiffness, in their performance, something that, at least to my eye, had an essential Japane-ness to it, particularly in the way they held their hands and heads. Yet you had only to see them smiling, hugging each other, wiping away tears and documenting every moment off-stage with their cameras to recognize how much the experience meant to them.
Later, Kubokawa attempts in her limited English to answer the question, "Why did you fall in love with hula?" She tilts her head back, smiles broadly and then frowns with the impossibility of putting it into English words. "Life!," she says.
"You mean hula is life?"
"Yes!," she says.
Next on stage is Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu's Academy of Hawaiian Arts, and the mood is altogether different. Ho'omalu is hula's bad boy, a role he seems to embrace with equal parts indifference and insouciance.
At first, he appears to be a taskmaster. He strides onto the stage in a black shirt and sweat pants, a yellow lawalawa wrapped around his waist and sunglasses shielding his eyes, clapping and counting as his men's and women's group move into their kahiko numbers.
They work without direction, dividing up the stage, their backs to each other, practicing the dances without benefit of accompaniment, counting out the rhythm to find their places. Like actors, each dancer locates a landmark or two that will indicate the correct position at key points in the dance.
Ho'omalu watches and says little. Eventually, he leaves the stage to begin working with the musicians. He sings or chants on every number and two of the four pieces are his own compositions, meaning alaka'i, senior dancers, do much of the work of teaching and fine-tuning.
The men's old-style dance is performed with canoe paddles, which alternately sweep the imaginary water, pound the stage with a thundering sound, and strike the air like weapons. The women perform a hula noho, a seated hula, with the puniu, a tiny drum strapped to the thigh.
These dances are hell on the stomach and back muscles, requiring great flexibility and strength. Also, because there is no foot movement, the eyes are riveted to the arms, making it all the more vital that the movements be in unison — some would say a risky choice, but one that could pay off in points.
As the groups move into the auana numbers, the mood lightens. The men praise the rains of Hilo in the familiar "Hilo Hula," performed at a lively pace. The women sway to "Piano Ahiahi," an old mele inspired by the songwriter's first experience of a piano.
Ho'omalu, ever the iconocolast, has them work facing the rear of the stage. "So you can see the expression my face when you make a mistake," he jokes.
He spends a lot of time on posture; it's important in hula to stand erect, open up the shoulders and chest and not hunch. "Stick your chestickles out!," he calls. "Try your bestessess."
At one point, the women are off-stage when he wants them on. "Hurry up!," he calls, "By the time you guys get it right we gotta get ready for dakine — Christmas."
Afterward, Ho'omalu squats on the ground, puffs a menthol and talks about hula and tradition, insisting that what he does is traditional, though his chanting style is best described as some kind of fusion, his choreography routinely stretches the rules and he more often uses his own work than established compositions.
"I have limits, boundaries, things I will not do," he says, though he has difficulty defining these. "I think Hawai'i has room to grow. I think they need to understanding some things."
He tells his students that hula has three purposes: to entertain, to inspire and to teach. If you entertain well, some people will be inspired to learn. "I try to do what we have long done very well — to entertain. Some people have gone the other route, which is to learn and learn and learn."
Asked why he decided to return to Merrie Monarch after an absence of six years, he thinks for a while. "I came here to show my hula," he says. And then, hinting broadly that he understands that his style is unlikely to score high with conservative judges, he adds, "Sometimes it's not the points you have to get to win, it's the point you're trying to make."
Chinky Mahoe drops by to say "aloha" and confides that he can't wait until it's Monday. "I can't wait until it's my turn," Ho'omalu counters. "I like go twice."
Ho'omalu says he finds no difficulty in pursuing a life in Hawaiian culture even though he lives away from the Islands, in Oakland, Calif.
In fact, he swears he doesn't even miss home.
"Whatever I need, I make it. I grow it," he said. "Cliches can be useful. If Hawai'i is a state of mind, like the cliche, then my mind is always in Hawai'i. Wherever I put my feet, that's Hawai'i."
Scenes from the Merrie Monarch Festival: Final Rehearsals
Special section: 43 Merrie Monarch Festival
April 19, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorHilo Hanakahi*, Hawai'i — For months now, the halau participating in the Merrie Monarch Festival hula competition have been practicing their dances on imaginary stages, marked out in masking tape or yarn or chalk on the floors of rehearsal halls or even outdoors on the grass.
As few have spaces as large as the festival's capacious stage, they've had to compress their choreography or perform the dances in chopped-up bits.
But now, the real thing — the scuffed plywood stage laid out on the floor of the Edith Kanaka'ole Tennis Stadium.
A scene last Saturday is typical. Miss Aloha Hula candidate Kapalai'ula de Silva, youngest daughter of kumu hula Mapuana de Silva of Halau Mohala 'Ilima, paces the stage in pensive silence while her mother, her father and several of her hula sisters look on. Readying to perform her kahiko (traditional) dance, with its demanding attendant chant, she walks through the dance, trades quiet words and giggles with her mother, laughingly orders her sister to quit taking pictures. She prowls the stage, head-down, like a runner examining the track before a race. She cries out in pain as her mother massages the muscles of her chest.
Finally, she is ready.
Her chant ripples through the empty hall. Her dance is both graceful and powerful, moving between fast and slow, its cadence set by the kala'au sticks she taps together. There is a lot of deep work, kneeling and squatting. By the end, she is sweating despite a chill breeze. But she is smiling, as is her kumu mother.
Scenes like this will be repeated hour after hour until the final rehearsal slot, 2 p.m. Saturday, when Snowbird Bento's Ka Pa Hula O Ka Lei Lehua will get the last chance to rehearse before the final competition.
Halau arrive as early as possible in Hilo to take advantage of the coveted one- and two-hour rehearsal times assigned to the schools between Easter weekend and the opening of the three-day competition on Thursday. Rehearsals begin as early as 7 a.m. and some nights continue as late as 11 p.m.
Here, as in everything to do with Hawaiian culture, protocol applies. Halau are not permitted to enter the stadium while another group is on the stage. Rehearsals begin with rituals particular to each school: chanting or singing. The usually end with a forceful but quiet talk from the kumu hula, followed by a circle of prayer. Tears often flow.
Rehearsal time is particularly sacred for those halau that enter all three divisions: Miss Aloha Hula, female group and male group. These can afford no down time because they are cramming three rehearsals into one — as the men file off, sweating from their workout, the women are climbing the ramp to the stage.
These practice days also offer KITV director John Wray the opportunity to time the performances with a stopwatch and make quick sketches that help him determine the best camera angles for each performance.
And they may be the only opportunity the groups get to perform the dance with the actual musicians who will be playing for them; most have rehearsed with recordings or their own halau musicians.
KEEPING BUSY
One musician who'll be keeping extremely busy during this Merrie Monarch is Hoku Award-winning singer/songwriter Kaumakaiwa "Lopaka" Kanaka'ole of Hilo, the great-grandson of the kumu hula for whom this stadium is named. Four of his compositions are being used by three different halau.
"I'm so honored, and it's so nice to be singing my own stuff," said Kanaka'ole.
Saturday morning, he rehearsed with Halau O Lilinoe of Carson, Calif., whose women are dancing to two songs, one from each of his recorded collections, "Ha'i Kupuna" and "Welo." Be ready for the auana number: It's about as close to rock 'n roll as you're going to see on a Merrie Monarch stage, but in a very Hawaiian way.
Another song been selected by Maui's Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka.
Kanaka'ole is especially happy that his Auntie Ala — Leina'ala Kalama Heine — has chosen two of his early songs for her Na Pualei 'O Likolehua to perform. His mom, Kekuhi Kanahele-Frias, is joining him in singing these: "We coaxed her out of retirement," he said.
As soon as Merrie Monarch is over, Halau O Kekuhi, his family's hula troupe, heads to Japan to mount a production of their hula opera "Holo Mai Pele." Then he'll return to Mountain Apple's recording studios on O'ahu to record a self-titled collection. "Ho! Busy," he said.
SONGS OF THE SNOW
Mary Ann Lim, matriach of the musical Lim Family of Kohala, has seen so many of her children and grandchildren perform in hula competition that you'd think she'd grow a little blase about it. But here she is on Saturday, watching her granddaughter Alohanamakanamaikalanimai Davis-Lim rehearse for her Miss Aloha Hula performance, and Tutu-wahine is observing as intently as if she hadn't seen the dance 100 times by now.
She explained that all the songs her daughters' Na Lei O Kaholoku will be performing this year are related to Poli'ahu, the snow goddess. Davis-Lim's auana number requires her to express both the great happiness of love and its loss, for the chosen one of the snow goddess, a Kaua'i chief, finds he cannot endure the great cold of her mountain home, and the two part. "See, see — now is the sad part. Poliahu had a hard time," Mary Ann Lim says. And when it's over, she murmurs, "Awesome! Maka'i!"
Davis-Lim has an enviable training team as she prepares for the competition. Her aunties Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Lim Amina, kumu hula of Merrie Monarch's first place winner last year, are her teachers. Her auntie Lorna Lim is an award-winning hula competitor, too, and dances in the front line of Kaholoku — though she's sitting out the actual dancing this year as she's expecting. Another Lim grandson, Covington, a four-time Master Keiki Hula, is helping perfect the dance, too.
Na Lei O Kaholoku made the long drive over from Kahala to fit in this rehearsal. As soon as it was over, the Lim family band members would hop a plane to Maui to perform at Celebration of the Arts at the Ritz Carlton Kapalua.
HULA WORD FOR THE DAY: LINE
It's not a Hawaiian word, but it's what rehearsal is all about. Like the corps de ballet in the classic dance, hula halau in group performance are judged on their ability to form and keep straight rows and to maintain an equal distance between the dancers, even as the choreography moves them about the stage. Maintaining the line is as important as knowing the steps and moving in unison.
"Line! Line! Line!," calls an alaka'i of Halau O Lilinoe, shooting a sideways glance at her hula sisters. Leialoha Lim Amina, co-kumu with her sister, Nani Lim Yap of last year's first place-winning Na Lei O Kaholoku, uses a gentle joke to let her dancers know that one side of the line is spreading itself a bit thin: "You're so strong on that side; you're just pulling everyone with you!" she says. But the point is made.
Just which line a dancer is assigned to, and where in the line they dance, is another topic of discussion — though not one much talked about in public. Kumu hula showcase the strongest dancers in the front line; to be assigned there is an honor, a vote of confidence in the student. Generally, the alaka'i anchor the line, dancing at the center or at one end.
But Kaholoku alaka'i Lorna Lim exhorts the troupe not to think that a farther-back position means a dancer can just follow along. "The second line has to think it's the front line. What if you get moved to the front tomorrow? You can't be waiting for them to show you what to do." Furthermore, judges are sure to watch for second-line flubs. Also, today's more complex choreography often has the rear lines dancing to the front, or the two lines dancing with different steps, putting both in the spotlight.
* Hilo is often referred to as Hilo Hanakahi, in honor of a favorite chief and "Mahalo E Hilo Hanakahi" is a favorite song praising the warmth of the people here. Actually, Hilo Hanakahi is one of three districts of Hilo, referring to the area toward Keaukaha and Hamakua.
Hula's Season
April 19, 2006 / Honolulu Advertiser, Wanda A. Adams, Assistant Features EditorThe weeklong 43rd annual Merrie Monarch Festival is under way in Hilo, with hula performances, craft fairs, exhibits and other activities. The hula competition that is the heart of the festival begins, as always, with tonight's free ho'ike (performance) organized by Hilo's Halau O Kekuhi, building to tomorrow's Miss Aloha Hula competition and finally the two nights of group competition.
Here's what to watch for, and what's new.
ON TV
Most Merrie Monarch hula viewing is on television, since only a couple of thousand people can score the coveted tickets. Many look forward to the broadcast's mini-stories about hula and about the contestants, crafted by producer David Kalama in partnership with KITV Channel 4.
This year, Kalama explores the structure of a halau (hula school) and the Hawaiian craft of kapa-making. He interviews kumu hula Pua Kanahele on how hula schools were organized in pre-contact times, and how they work now.
Among the disciplines that have been reintroduced into hula schools since the Hawaiian renaissance is creating the ornamentation for hula kahiko (traditional style). Two Miss Aloha Hula candidates are beating their own kapa (cloth made from wauke, the paper mulberry bark) to wear in their performance, a daunting task.
Kalama's cameras have followed Carly Makanani Ah Sing of Kaimuki throughout the process, from cutting down the wauke trees through stripping, fermenting, pounding and decorating. It's been a challenge, Kalama said: With all the rain of past weeks, the outcome of the story was still undetermined at press time.
SEVEN JUDGES
A couple of years ago, the Merrie Monarch organization decided to change its seven-member judging panel more frequently than in the past, and to bring in some of the younger kumu hula — including those whose halau still sometimes compete (of course, they don't compete in the years when they serve as judges). Last year, popular Hilo kumu hula Johnny Lum Ho took time off from competition to serve as a judge (he's taking off this year, too).
So it is that kumu hula William Sonny Kahakuleilehua Haunu'u Ching will be seated at the stage-level tables for the first time. Ching takes every fourth year off from Merrie Monarch competition, so his Halau Na Mamo O Pu'uanahulu, which earned the last three Miss Aloha Hula crowns and took second place in both men's and women's group competition in 2005, would have been sitting out the competition in any case.
Coming from Maui to judge this year is kumu hula Hokulani Holt-Padilla of Halau Pa'u O Hi'iaka and a founder of Ka 'Aha Hula 'O Halauaola, the World Conference on Hula.
Other judges are chanter and kumu hula Cy M. Bridges, kumu hula and University of Hawai'i professor Victoria Holt-Takamine, kumu hula Wayne Keahi Chang, kumu hula Kawaikapuokalani K. Hewitt and Nalani Kanaka'ole of Halau O Kekuhi and the University of Hawai'i-Hilo.
MISS ALOHA HULA
This year's Merrie Monarch Miss Aloha Hula competition is tied with 2003 for the most candidates ever: 16 dancers, each of whom will perform one old-style and one modern number in a single, long evening of competition. Look for the broadcast to barely squeak in under the 11 p.m. deadline — or maybe run over.
Two of the competitors have a double blessing — or burden: Their kumu hula is their parent.
Kumu hula Mapuana de Silva of Halau Mohala 'Ilima, known for its dignity, near-flawless line and period style, is showcasing her youngest daughter, Kapalai'ula.
And kumu hula Carl Veto Baker, who operates award-winning Halau I Ka Wekiu with Michael Nalanakila Casupang, will direct his daughter, Ka'enaalohaokau'i-kaukehakeha Aoe Hopkins, in Miss Aloha Hula competition for the second time; she competed in 2003.
Another interesting story, according to Kalama, is that of Stephanie Makalapua Lum Yee, who dances for Kapi'olani Ha'o's Halau Ke Kia'i A O Hula. Yee lives in Alaska, and both she and her kumu hula have been hopping north and south periodically for the past year; Ha'o has a class of students, mostly expatriate Islanders, up there.
GROUP COMPETITION
In the group competition, there is sure to be interest in the appearance of perennially controversial Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu and his Oakland, Calif.-based Academy of Hawaiian Arts. Ho'omalu is the kumu hula, chanter, hula instrument designer and recording artist whose last CD, showcasing his signature style of Westernized chant and song, was defiantly titled "Call It What You Like." Originally from 'Aiea, he studied and performed with the legendary halau kane Waimapua in the 1970s. Since moving to California, he has worked with two companies — Tiare Otea and Na Mele Hula 'Ohana. He brought Na Mele Hula 'Ohana to the Merrie Monarch in 2000. In 2003, he founded the nonprofit Academy of Hawaiian Arts.
Two other Mainland halau are participating this year: Halau Ho'ola Ka Mana O Hawai'i, the Dallas, Texas-based troupe of Keli'i Chang, and Sissy Lilinoe Kaio's Hula Halau O Lilinoe.
Also back after an absence is kumu hula Leina'ala Kalama Heine, mistress of the comic hula and frequent star on the stage with the Brothers Cazimero, with her Na Pualei o Likolehua.
Altogether, it's an interesting mix of the three out-of-town halau, a handful of younger-generation crowd-pleasers (Ka Pa Hula O Ka Lei Lehua under Snowbird Bento; her former hula brother Kaleo Trinidad's Ka Leo O Laka I Ka Hikina O Ka La; and Manu Boyd's Halau O Ke 'A'ali'i Ku Makani), familiar favorites (Halau Mohala 'Ilima, Halau Hula 'O Kawailiula with kumu hula Chinky Mahoe) and powerhouses. (Will Hula Halau 'O Kamuela inch ahead of Na Lei O Kaholoku this year?)
It's Hula Time
Stadium readied for festival events
April 19, 2006 / Hawaii Tribune-Herald, Karen WelshThe Edith Kanaka'ole Multipurpose Stadium was bustling with activity Tuesday as the venue was prepared for the Merrie Monarch Festival's signature events.
The free Ho'ike kicks off tonight at 5:30 p.m., followed by the Miss Aloha Hula competition on
Thursday and the group hula competitions on Friday and Saturday.
Hula fans probably are already anticipating the fun, food and fellowship that will take place in the stadium this week.
But few will take a tally of the months, weeks, days and hours spent by the dedicated workers who've been scrambling to make sure the celebration is enjoyed by all.
"People think -- 'poof!' -- it happens, but it doesn't" said Luana Kawelu, the festival's assistant director. "We have to prepare. It's a big job."
From early in the morning, until late into the evening, the stadium's been alive with activity that is scheduled to continue until late this afternoon, as all the little tasks that help make the Merrie Monarch Festival a success are finished.
Tuesday was no different.
At the front of the stadium, Lei Branco, a participant in the Merrie Monarch from the very beginning and this year's Royal Parade grand marshal, was leading a group of volunteers as they prepared to bring the food concession area up to full service.
They were setting up the condiments, napkins, silverware and decorations for the food booth.
"It takes us three days to set up," she said. "We're here very early in the morning. When it's complete, it's functional and very busy during the festival. People are everywhere, but when they come in, we're ready."
Near the food booth is the soda and water concession. This year it's run by the Hui Maka'i Motorcycle Club. President Dexter Chaves and club member Larry Cabral were busy stacking 170 cases each of cola and water, placing some in coolers and portable refrigerator units.
"We need to be on top of it," Chaves said. "It's going to be hectic, come tomorrow."
Chaves said he never gave much thought about the preparation until he started working the concessions area this year.
"The coordination of this event is awesome," he said. "The amount of people they have -- it's an awesome feat."
Inside the stadium, a half-dozen lighting engineers from Eggshell Lighting on Oahu were spending the day stringing cords and cables and hooking up lights for the stage and interview areas.
"We're making sure everyone looks good and that nothing blows up," said lighting supervisor Tim Desmond. "We'll be ready. No doubt."
Near the stage was head sound man Glenn Yafusio. He's been on the job for three weeks, wiring and prepping for final rehearsals. On Tuesday he was completing sound checks for the Ho'ike performers.
Yafuso and a couple of workers spent the day fine-tuning the audio system.
"We rehearse everything before the show time," he said. "We've got a lot of equipment here, but it's for a reason. I couldn't do this without my crew."
Spring Spalding has helped with the festival for 25 years. One of his jobs Tuesday was hanging all the signs and the curtains on the dressing rooms.
"I'm all the time excited about the celebration," he admitted. "It's great. It's really great."
Behind the stadium, a three-man crew was setting up for the live KITV broadcasts, which begin Thursday. It was their job to make sure the equipment inside the park and power trailer was ready to go.
"This is a really big thing for KITV," said Rodney Kobayakawa, general manager of NEP Sharpshooters. "We have to be ready to go by 6 p.m. on Wednesday."
The County of Hawaii was probably one of the busiest entities at the site. Daryl Sakoda and another county worker were taking all the trash barrels off a truck bed to place a various locations around the building.
"We're just doing our annual preparation for the Merrie Monarch," Sakoda said. "Our crew works seven days a week, day and night. We do all kinds of stuff to prepare. We clean the bleachers, locker rooms, bathrooms and maintain the grounds."
In the end, workers perform their tasks for the greater good. Few, if any, attendees will take note of the effort. But there is one who will.
Kawelu understands the commitment it takes to produce a successful festival, and she's thankful for everyone's participation.
"It's hard work," she said. "It takes cooperation. Everybody works together here, and I appreciate it."
But It Looks So Easy
Hula dancers put in long hours for flawless results
April 18, 2006 / Hawaii Tribune-Herald, Karen WelshEveryone has a love language -- a need to receive words of affirmation, gifts, quality time, acts of service and physical touch.
Hula encompasses them all.
At least that's what I recently experienced after becoming an honorary member of Hula Halau O' Kawananakoa in Keaukaha.
Except for one hula performed during an elementary school May Day program and a couple of early childhood lessons -- where the instructor kept hitting the back of my calves with a stick because I couldn't keep my heels on the floor -- I never dreamed of being anything more than an eager spectator of this beautiful art.
There's always been a sadness deep within my being because hula is so incredibly communicative.
And that's me. The talker of talk. The writer of words.
To be left out of something so profoundly a part of the culture, so loving an expression and, under the right circumstances, an adoring gift of worship to ke Akua, has been excruciatingly painful.
To tell the truth, this feeling has become more acute since I became the mama kahu of a Hawaiian church.
But no more.
After two sessions with the tutus at Kawananakoa Gym, I've found a place go belong, a place to become -- a sisterhood so tight that it defines the term "ohana."
These women tenderly aloha each other, touching, kissing, affirming each other's very existence and being.
They genuinely care about each other.
And me.
The halau members open every session with pule, a prayer to ke Akua, before dancing.
Then it begins.
The hula.
It's surprising that a novice, such as myself, can begin to pick up on the meaning after only one time through a song.
The first mele is "Ke Anu O Waimea," by B. Kuana Torres of Na Palapalai, tells of the beauty of Waimea, the skin-piercing wind in the shivering cold.-"I ka poli o ka ua, e honihoni ana e -- In the bosom of the rain we embrace," the melodic song recalls. "I ke kakahiaka e moani ke 'ala o ka 'awapuhi ho'i e -- The scent of ginger wafting in the morning."
Each movement is precise and means something, the poetic motions telling a story, serving a utilitarian purpose to pass on a story, a way of life.
"It's important to study the piece," kumu hula Alberta "Birdie" Nicolas says. "You need to do your homework and have a connection to it. The important thing is, all hula is not the same. I can be done in different versions. Each halau can dance a different rendition to the music."
Many special movements are gleaned throughout the songs. "Makani 'Olu 'Olu," "Moku O Keawe" and "Nani Venuse" highlight the uwehi, left step, right step, both knees flashed outward; the kaholo, three step vamp; the Kalakaua, step, then sway forward and back; the lele, swaying back; the ami, rotation of hips; the ami kuku, really fast rotation of hips and the hela, a step back with one foot, then point with the other.
Not one step or move for this newbie hula dancer was possible without the patience and instruction of alaka'i, or assistant, Jo Ann Loa.
"Twinkle, the twinkle's not out, the twinkle is in," she instructs. "Sassy, around the world, ami, front, back, double cross, up the road, luna, pick the flowers, plenty. When you come up, no look grumpy.
"Ha'ina. One, two, three, four, back, pua malama, twinkle," Jo Ann guides. "Around the island, touch, face, shoulder, kapu, shoulder, kapu, kapu, kapu, winding road, forward, crooked road, in the heavens, double cross, plenty, twinkle, sassy."
One important lesson gleaned throughout the practice is there is a variety of hula. A mele can be fast or slow. Gentle or rough. It can speak about certain places in Hawaii, the weather, a battle waged or, my favorite, the romance often expressed between two lovers.
Every verse, each idea, is always conveyed twice, probably because the message is worth repeating.
As one song melds into another, one thing is made clear -- hula is hard work. It's also great exercise. Sweat pours from the back of my neck and trickles down my back. I'm happy to make it through the dance without collapsing, but the wahine, all older than I, are eager to practice it "one more time."
Right about now I'm short of breath and not keeping up with the aunties is quite embarrassing.
However, their encouragement brings a smile to my face.
"We cannot shake it," Birdie jokes. "We just put WD40 here and oil there and keep moving."
Birdie also reminds me that many of them have been dancing together since they were 7 years old.
That's a long time.
"For us, hula is a part of our culture," Birdie says. "We've learned it from small. It's our communication. We are expressing our love for the art."
I'm hanging in there, still in the groove, soaking in the hula like a dry sponge.
Then they go to a "hapa haole" song called "Surfing With The Dolphins." This auana, or modern-day hula mixes traditional hula moves with country line dancing.
Halfway through the song I collapse on the cold linoleum floor -- too tired to shake another step out of my weary, aching body.
Luckily it's time for a break anyway. The halau has some business to attend. Birthdays to celebrate. Competitions for Aloha Week and the Hawaii Kupuna festivals to plan.
Crafts to make.
Service projects to finish.
They do everything together. It's as if one heart is beating for them, the heart of hula.
That's probably why the halau members keep coming back for more.
"I love everything about this halau," said dancer Lorraine Veincent. "Over here everybody helps everybody. No one is better than the other. We are all just one."
That's what makes hula special.
"A halau is typically known as a family activity," Birdie says. "It's close-knit. Everyone participates. It's a bond.
It's not just one thing," Birdie reminds. "It's a culture. We have a lot of skills and abilities that we share with other. We have a lot of talent to offer each other. We're not stagnant."
The practice is over and, auwe, the pain sets in with shin splints and cramps. I'm glad Birdie took the time to teach me one final step -- the massage technique to relieve aching arm and leg muscles.
"And they say hula is easy," she laughs. "Not!"
Reflecting back, it's nice to be in the hula hoop. After all, they speak my language and I'm loving every moment of it.
If only my feet felt the same way.
Chicken-Skin Time for Hilo
April 16, 2006 / Hawaii Tribune-HeraldHula fans from around the world will turn their attention to this usually sleepy town today, when the 43rd Annual Merrie Monarch Festival officially gets under way.
The passion Hilo has for the festival is a joy to behold, and the "aloha spirit" will be in full display all week as residents, tourists and competitors come together to share their enthusiasm for hula and all things Hawaiian.
The Tribune-Herald is honored once again to have the opportunity to cover this grand event, starting with the special 48-page Merrie Monarch Festival preview in today's edition. This year, our preview includes a fascinating history of the festival and how it began more than 40 years ago.
That story is especially important to tell right now. In preparing it for publication, we could not help noticing that the "grand auntie and uncle" of the festival -- Dottie Thompson and George Na'ope -- are noticeably more frail this year.
Now more than ever it's essential to recognize these pioneers for the contributions they've made to Hawaiian culture and to the preservation and promotion of hula.
Their gift to Hawaii is arguably this state's finest and most authentic cultural festival, and it remains Hilo's pride and joy.
The Merrie Monarch's economic impact also is impressive. Each year the festival and its related activities pump millions of dollars into the Big Island economy.
About the only complaint people have with the festival is that sometimes the hula competitions are too long. This year that will be especially true.
With 16 Miss Aloha Hula contestants and 25 different halau scheduled to perform later in the week, this year's competition could run more than five hours each night.
For all but the most diehard hula fans, that's a long time to be sitting still. It also means that the Tribune-Herald most likely will not have final results ready for publication the day after competition.
That's a small nit to pick, however, during a week packed with so much pageantry, drama and aloha. We look forward to sharing all the wonderful stories as they unfold and become part of the Merrie Monarch Festival's long and storied legacy.
Merrie Monarch Quilts
April 7, 2006 / Hawaii Tribune-HeraldMaster quilter Junedale Quinories, center, sits at an antique Singer sewing machine, while
studentsRoberta Muller, left, and Emma McAlexander hold quilted pieces they're working on.
This year's annual Merrie Monarch Quilt exhibit, opening with a public reception tonight from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. at the Wailoa Center, includes 31 pieces, including the purple Pua Pake, left, and the red Aloalo, sewn by quilters Kathleen Coelho and Naomi Beals. The exhibit runs through April 28.
Gallant efforts lift Merrie Monarch Festival
April 4, 2005 / Honolulu Advertiser / Wanda A. AdamsLike the brief but dramatic rain shower that swept over Edith Kanaka'ole Stadium Saturday night — the chilly water droplets propelled into the open-air building and visible for but a moment in the bright TV lights — the Merrie Monarch Festival is both a powerful experience, and a fleeting one.
Within 30 minutes of the screaming, chanting, singing outbursts that greet the announcements of the winners, the dancers are in their vans and on their buses, the KOA Puna biker security guards have fired up their Harleys and headed south and the cleanup crews are making their own mighty noise, slamming folding chairs shut and chasing the opala across the floor with roaring leaf blowers.
Even the hotel hallway parties don't last long; everyone is exhausted to the point of silliness, and most have early plane flights to catch.
As Merrie Monarch veteran Robert Cazimero pointed out in placing his halau's overall win in perspective: "Tomorrow is another day" — and one back in the real world.
But images linger.
There was the sight of Cazimero's chin dropping to his chest as he took a moment to master his emotions when his halau's kane kahiko award was announced, while all around him people were on their feet screaming. This was the first hint of the upset win the men's group would achieve with impressively high scores. Halau Na Kamalei would go on to win kane 'auana and then the overall award.
Through it all, Cazimero seemed most animated when recognizing the achievements of men with whom he has danced, and whom he has mentored over the past 30 years, since Halau Na Kamalei was formed.
Minutes before his first award was announced, he had been on his feet, pointing vigorously in a "you da man" gesture toward his competitors and former students, Karl Veto Baker and Michael Casupang of Halau I Ka Wekiu, who had placed second. Later, he would jump to his feet again as former student Manu Boyd and his Halau O Ke A'ali'i Ku Makani received an award in the women's division.
After receiving the trophy, Cazimero said: "I felt good just coming here, being with my students, especially my students who are teachers now. I am really more happy for them than for myself. I never thought it would come to this." Cazimero has been known to slip into Hilo during the Merrie Monarch rehearsal period just to offer a new kumu his presence as support, slipping away again before competition starts so as not to draw any of the celebrity away from the competing kumu.
On his mind, as on the minds of those who follow hula like a spectator sport, there are thoughts of the next generation, one of whom, young Kaleo Trinidad, made an impressive showing in his second year in Merrie Monarch competition with Ka Leo O Laka I Ka Hikina O Ka La. Trinidad, along with hula sister Snowbird Bento, helped his kumu, Holoua Stender, bring Ka Pa Hula O Kamehameha to Merrie Monarch three years ago, and was uniki'd (formally graduated as a teacher) in 2003.
Last weekend, Trinidad went to the stage five times — once to accompany his Miss Aloha Hula candidate, Jeri-Lynn Koko, daughter of the Makaha Sons' Jerome Koko, to receive her first runner-up award, and four times as his halau placed in wahine kahiko, kane kahiko kane 'auana and kane overall divisions.
And there are thoughts of the small acts of courage and commitment that Merrie Monarch dancers make, notably the Halau Na Mamo O Pu'uanahulu teaching assistant, Lopak Igarta-De Vera, who danced a vigorous and highly choreographed kane 'auana number with an ankle that had put him in the hospital just the night before. Normally, he is seen on the stage alongside kumu hula Sonny Ching, but this time he appeared only once, on crutches and in obvious pain, with his hula brothers around to help steady him.
In just a few weeks, it starts all over again: Merrie Monarch officials will begin compiling the list of 2006 invitees.
And what of the future? There's always concern about the scarceness of tickets (half the house is filled with participants, their families and VIPs, so a scant 2,000-plus tickets go on sale) and the stage itself, constructed atop a tennis court, isn't ideal.
Hilo clothing manufacturer Sig Zane, whose family life and work are intimately tied up in hula, says he would love to see a new home for the event: "Maybe one day we can build a stage where the dancer is really celebrated, where every sound they make can be heard, every movement they make can be seen and appreciated." He envisions something like a sumo stage, where the audience is in tiers above the pa (hula enclosure) to better reveal the lines and the choreography.
"Ho, such dreams, yeah?"