HE UA E HIKI MAI | Kealopiko's Nāulu tee for kāne, Makahiki 2011/2012

KA WAI A KA NĀULU | Kealopiko's Nāulu skirt for wāhine

And with that anniversary, there are few new additions to the Kealopiko ‘ohana… could you introduce the two new members of the ‘ohana?
This is Manawanui, born to Hina and Kingi on September 20th, and Poohiwi born to Ane and Kekama on October 19th.
 

HERE COMES THE RAIN AGAIN | Kealopiko's Nāulu tee for wāhine, Makahiki 2011/2012

KAULANA NĀ PUA | Kealopiko's Pua collared tea for kāne, Makahiki 2011/2012

Five years down, what do you see in Kealopiko’s plans in the year to come?
We will, of course, continue to put out two lines a year, but also hope to expand the scope of products we offer. We have been dabbling in re-purposing old garments to produce things like bags, so you might see more in terms of that. As far as design directions, that one will have to remain a surprise.
 

MA HEA E KŪ‘AI MAI AI? (WHERE TO BUY)

Kealopiko’s pieces are available at fine retailers throughout nā kai ‘ewalu as well as a few spots on the ‘Āina ‘Ē, even the Big Apple. For more information, visit kealopiko.com.
 
Images courtesy of Kealopiko
Models: Rosalyn and Austin Kino

Above: Ke Kamāliʻi Wahine Victoria Kaʻiulani | Below: Q'orianka Kilcher in Marc Forby's Princess Kaiulani

When British director’s Marc Forby’s period piece (loosely) based on the life of Ke Kamāliʻi Wahine Victoria Kawēkiu Lunalilo Kalaninuiahilapalapa Kaʻiulani made its debut at the Honolulu International Film Festival last fall, much of the public controversy swirled around the name then chosen for the film, Barbarian Princess.

When questioned publically about name, Forby said, as quoted by the Honolulu Advertiser, “The title was meant to bring in, and then challenge audiences from, say, middle America who might be expecting something like sexy dances at a luau … We wanted to draw attention to how Hawaiians were treated in the 1800s; this has never been about exploiting the Hawaiian people. I never knew it would get so heated. I thought the irony would be obvious.”

I thought Forby’s argument was a flimsy one. Moreover, it quickly summed up his actual stance. While not apparently not wanting to fall into a trap of tourist expectations, Forby indicated that his film was for a certain kind of market, one that needs everything needs spelled out for it and unable to handle a Hawaiian name in the title. At the same time, it seems that, for Forby, a Hawaiian name like Kaʻiulani–perhaps, any Hawaiian word at all–could only conjure exoticism, ignoring the number of films that retain their native language titles.

What if we were to apply his argument to prominent, valued historical figures from other country’s without their input? Whatever their personal opinion of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, I doubt most Americans would appreciate a film titled The Adultrous President. Possible criticism for content aside, Oliver Stone went with JFK and W. for his presidential flicks. I doubt Forby’s fellow Brits would have tolerated a sensationalized name for any film about any of their royals.  Consider instead the titles for films about important figures. Across the “pond”, Stephen Frear chose the simple The Queen for his 2006 film about Queen Elizabeth II.

Since the Hawaiʻi 2009 debut, Forby and his team have reconsidered their marketing strategy and dropped the barbarian idea. As of May 2010, viewers across the United States can now head out and watch Princess Kaiulani (note: no ʻokina) instead. While I was relieved of the name change, I still couldn’t help but cringe when I saw the melodramatic trailer.

Since the film’s debut last week, I have been entertained to see what American critics think of the film and how Forby’s film comes across to those unfamiliar with Hawaiʻi.

The Los Angeles Times’ Gary Goldstein said the film made for “starchy entertainment”. Goldstein goes on to describe actress Q’orianka Kilcher’s portrayal of Kaʻiulani as bloodless. Unsurprisingly, the film only earned two stars.

Mike Hale of the New York Times went further in criticizing the film. He describes it as “an odd hybrid” and “deeply silly and stagebound”. He says, “At times it’s the sort of ridiculously anachronistic period film in which historical characters act like 21st-century teenagers who happen to be wearing hoop skirts.”

Reading his reviews, it’s clear that Mr. Hale read up at least a little on Hawaiian history, enough to catch Forby’s errors. Hale states that Forby

“fudges in ways small (an early scene shows Ka’iulani playing a significant role in a palace function she did not attend) and large (the circumstances of her departure for England are much more dramatic and historically relevant in the film than they were in real life). By the time Ka’iulani, having returned home as a figurehead crown princess, French kisses Clive in full view of her retinue, all you can do is shake your head.”

And while his nomenclature is off (Hale calls an ʻokina an apostrophe), even the New York City journalist can catch the film’s spelling error:

A final note: the film’s title drops the apostrophe in Ka’iulani — so that strictly speaking, “Princess Kaiulani” seems to refer to the Waikiki hotel rather than to the princess herself. It didn’t matter at a screening this week, however, as the print shown to critics still carried the film’s original and less felicitous title: “Barbarian Princess.”

That said, Mr. Hale’s review is not without its own inaccuracies or flaws. I strongly disagree, for instance, with his one-liner that the overthrow of the Hawaiian kingdom is “a complex and sometimes squalid story with less-than-admirable behavior on all sides” is highly debatable. But I won’t make the mistake of thinking of him as a historian or a scholar. I quote him here a film critic four thousand miles away from Hawaiʻi, who, with a little research and working under a pressing deadline, could detect the film’s flaws.

Interestingly enough, I found that one local newspaper’s review didn’t find any of these weaknesses, offering a mostly sunny, encouraging words about Princess Kaiulani. This, of course, came as no surprise, as quite often, more local newspaper critics write more like PR reps than actual critics. At least, the review from the Honolulu Star-Bulletin read more like a review, though I disagree with the critic’s opinion that films can play with history because we watch movies just for entertainment… and not, say, to learn about the human experience or be inspired.

That said, I have not brought myself around to watching Princess Kaiulani yet. Kircher’s stilted pronunciation of Hawaiʻi was discouraging enough. After all, what kind of princess can’t even say the name of her own kingdom right?

All the strife around Princess Kaiulani film underscores the need to support kānaka maoli (Native Hawaiian) filmmakers so an authentic perspective of Hawaiian culture can find its rightful place on the silver screen. In the meantime, I would rather spend my money to watch one of the screening’s at the Honolulu Academy of Arts’ ʻŌiwi Film Festival and wait to see Forby’s film on Netflix.

JUDGE FOR YOURSELF

I think the trailer for Princess Kaiulani says enough about the film.

On this day, Kaila Hawai‘i would like to celebrate the birthday of Prince Jonah Kūhiō Kalaniana‘ole Pi‘ikoi. Prince Kūhiō was born on March 26, 1871 in Kōloa, Kaua‘i to High Chief David Kahalepouli Pi‘ikoi and High Chiefess Victoria Kekaulike Kinoiki. He later became the hānai son of King David Kalākaua and Queen Kapi‘olani. Prince Kūhiō is widely celebrated for his political expertise in post-annexation Hawai‘i, especially for the Hawaiian Homes Commission Act. The day of his birth is now known in Hawai‘i as Kūhiō Day, while his name now honors places all over the Hawaiian archipelago.

But Prince Kūhiō also helped to spread traditional Hawaiian culture. In the 1880s, Prince Kūhiō, along with his brothers Prince David Kawānanakoa and Prince Edward Keli‘iahonui, attended Saint Matthew’s School in San Mateo, California. In the summer of 1885, Prince Kūhiō and his fellow young ali‘i visited family friends in Santa Cruz. During their time there, the young princes headed out into the waves to enjoy the royal pastime of he‘enalu, or surfing, at the mouth of the San Lorenzo River. The people of Santa Cruz quickly took note.  The July 20, 1885 edition of Santa Cruz’ The Daily Surf comments:

The young Hawaiian princes were in the water, enjoying it hugely and giving interesting exhibitions of surf-board swimming as practiced in their native islands.

Unlike the surfers of today, these 19th century ali‘i headed out on massive 15 foot, 100 lb boards made out of local Californian redwood. Though it is still not widely known, these young ali‘i are now credited with introducing surfing to the United States.

And surfing was not the only physical art that Prince Kūhiō’s had mastered. He was also a skilled athlete, a marksman, and, a true rarity for his time, a practitioner of the traditional martial art of Lua.

Prince Kūhiō’s wide range of accomplishments still resound 139 years later and serve as a fine example to all Hawaiians and residents of Hawai‘i.

Today’s Hawaiian word of the day is honua, or world, earth, or land. It may also mean fundamental.

There is a quite beautiful ʻōlelo noʻeau (traditional saying) that refers to this great earth of Kāne, the Hawaiian akua of fresh water and life.

Ka honua nui a Kāne i hōʻinana a ‘ahu kīnohinohi.

{The great Earth animated and adorned by Kāne.}

You can sense this greatness of the honua when you can gaze on a sight like the cliffs of Molokaʻi Nui a Hina above.

The creator of new land, the goddess Pele is also called ka wahine ʻai honua, the earth-eating woman.

For a word that seems to evoke such stability, honua can also mean quite the opposite. Its other meaning is suddenly or abruptly.

• Ua nalowale honua ʻo ia. She suddenly disappeared.

With all the challenges facing this honua nui a Kāne, may we all come together to protect this amazing creation.

Sources:

• Pukui, ʻŌlelo Noʻeau
• Pukui and Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary.

Image used under Creative Commons license

Today’s Hawaiian word of the day is one, or sand.

One kind of black sand, specifically that created from ʻaʻā lava (the rocky, slow-moving variety), is called one ʻā. The phrase can also refer to volcanic cinder as well as gunpowder.  Recounting the fiery power of Pele, the famous traditional hula “Puʻu Onioni” speaks of one ʻā in its third verse:

Lauahi Pele i kai o Puna

One ʻā kai o Malama

(Pele destroys by fire towards the sea of Puna /The black cinder seaward of Malama)

Here Kumu Hula Kawaikapuokalani Hewett performs “Puʻu Onioni” standing, maile lei in hand:

One is the base of an especially beautiful Hawaiian expression, one hānau. Literally mean “birth sands”, one hānau means birthplace or homeland, especially referring to Hawaiʻi. When I was living far away from home, the expression would always come to my mind. Hawaiʻi has been and always be my one hānau.

One hānau makes a noteworthy appearance in Rev. Lorenzo Lyons’ famous song “Hawaiʻi Aloha”, which is often sung at the end of many different gatherings and community events. However,  I find very often that, when people sing the song, the mood is usually very somber. But the lyrics are joyful, inspiring us with the love for our one hānau, our lāhui, Hawaiʻi. It’s the one song that usually gets me every time I hear it, much more so than “Hawaiʻi Ponoʻī”. Hereʻs the first verse and chorus

E Hawaiʻi, e kuʻu one hānau ē

Kuʻu home kulāiwi nei

ʻOli au i nā pono lani ou

E Hawaiʻi aloha ē

Hui

E hauʻoli nā ʻōpio o Hawaiʻi nei

ʻOli ē! ʻOli ē!

Mai nā aheahe makani e pā mai nei

Mau ke aloha, no Hawaiʻi…

(Hawaiʻi sands of my birth/ My homeland / I rejoice in the blessings from the heavens / Beloved Hawaiʻi..

CHORUS: Be happy youth of Hawaiʻi / Rejoice, rejoice! / From the breezes that are blowing / Forever is my love for Hawaiʻi)

This clip from the late Israel Kamakawiwoʻole is sure to give you the gist of it.

The above photos are used through the Creative Commons license. Credit below:

First photo information here. Second photo at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lacylouwho/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

Today’s Hawaiian word of the day is ‘iwa, or the frigate bird, one of the most famed birds of Hawai‘i.

The ʻiwa appears in the kaʻi, or entrance hula, “Hoʻopuka ka lā i ka hikina” (The Sun Rises in the East”):

Haʻa mai nā ʻiwa me Hiʻiaka.

The ʻiwa dance forth with the Goddess Hiʻiaka.

Graceful in its flight,  an ‘iwa may represent an attractive or elegant person that draws the admiration of others. This attribute is captured by the ʻōlelo noʻeau (traditional saying):

Kīkaha ka ʻiwa  i ka pali.

The ʻiwa soars to the cliff.

This is the perfect kind of thing when someone good looking catches your eye while passing by.

As the ‘iwa takes the food of other birds, the word may also refer to a thief. But this kind of metaphor isn’t solely negative. Kamehameha the First was referred honorifcally as Ka’iwakīloumoku, the Frigate Bird that Hooks the Islands Together.

The word ʻiwa also reminds of the mirroring of land, sea, and air: the ʻiwa is also a species of native Hawaiian fern.

Sources:

• Kaʻiwakīloumoku Hawaiian Cultural Center
• Pukui, ʻŌlelo Noʻeau
• Pukui and Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary

Please note photo above is from the link below, under the Creative Commons license.

Today’s Hawaiian word is hīhīmanu. I particularly like it because it may refer to the ocean, the land, or aestheics. The Hawaiian Dictionary tells us that hīhīmanu can translate into English as three distinctive things:

1. sting rays or eagle rays
2. elegant, lavish, magnificent
3. a peak on the island of Kaua‘i

The linguistic example that Pukui and Elbert provide is:

He nui ka hīhīmanu o kā lāua mau anaina ho‘okipa i hā‘awi ai.

They gave very lavish receptions.

Reading directly from the Hawaiian, I arrive at something a little more literary: “Great was the magnificence of the receptions that the two of them gave.”

Semantics aside, I’m in love with this word. There is a definite otherworldly beauty to the rays, which seem to fly within the oceanic realm. Now, which idea did hīhīmanu first describe, I’m not qualified to say. Were things of elegance called hīhīmanu in deference to the beauty of the underwater creatures? Or were the rays that the people of old saw swimming in the water so attractive that they were called hīhīmanu, an incarnation of the elegant?  Perhaps, a Hawaiian language scholar will let us know one day.

In any case, I think hīhīmanu is great addition to an aesthetic vocabulary. It transcends simple physical beauty and captures that special quality that immediately captures one eye just like the graceful flight of the rays behind the ocean surface. I prefer it over the other two words for elegant, ho‘ohiehie and hiluhilu, which simply refer to appearance alone. With hīhīmanu, we’re connected to beauty, ocean, and land in just four syllables. He keu o ka hīhīmanu paha kēia.

I found it unfortunate that, when searching for information about sting rays online, many sites talked about the dangerous barbs that string rays carry. But sting rays are not aggressive animals and will only attack in self-defense. Perhaps, if people could avoid sensationalism and allow the hīhīmanu live in peace, they could see their real beauty instead of seeking a threat.

To close, check out this clip on the Galapagos from the BBC to see hīhīmanu embodied.

As we take a look back at 2009 and its own particular set of challenges, we are happy to see it fade off like the sunset taken above at Mākaha. But what to make of the year to come?

Sometimes, art, in its many different forms, has a way of capturing our outlook on life. Call it synchronicity if you wish, but that was just the case last week when we came across a particularly moving clip, “Dayvan Cowboy”, from one of our favorite electronic groups, Boards of Canada. Constructed from archive stock footage, the clip, directed by Melissa Olson, amazed us by the journey created through its sublime images: jumping from space through the atmosphere, just to catch the perfect wave. We love the sense of freedom the clip carries, all the while propelled by some deeply meditative beats. We can’t help but feel there are no real limits in life when you look at things in just the right light.

With this sense of boundless possibilities in mind, we wish you a safe, prosperous, and happy 2010 full of abundance and new discoveries.

Hau‘oli Makahiki Hou!

Kaila Hawai‘i Team

A few weeks ago, I finally took a break from my typical weekend schedule of work, reading, writing, and more reading. When I used to be out in West O‘ahu and needed mental relief, I would head out at high speed on Farrington Highway to Keawa‘ula—commonly known as Yokohama—at the end of the road. There, in relative isolation and peace and quiet, I could watch the setting of the sun in the mythic landscape once walked by Kāne and Hi‘iakaikapoliopele. On a few lucky occasions, I was greeted by koholā, the whales, right at the time of sunset.

Now that I’m right in the middle of Honolulu, it’s a bit harder to find that kind of quiet escape. Luckily, on the day I went out to take a break, I arrived on a mellow day at Kaimana Beach, by the old natatorium and Kapi‘olani Park. The tradewinds, the Moa‘e, were blowing, rustling the leaves of the niu, the coconut trees. As sunset approached, the sky turned to a series of soft pinks and purples. The experience was simply transcendent.

As the sun sank down into the vast ocean, I thought of Kāne and Kanaloa, our two akua, or deities, who had journeyed through the islands of Hawai‘i, opening springs of fresh water and enjoying ‘awa (kava). Interestingly enough, the sun itself is a kinolau (manifestation) of Kāne, known as ka ‘ōnohi o ka lā, “the eyeball of the sun”. And here with the setting of the sun of Kāne into the vast ocean of Kanaloa, the deity of the seas, I witnessed the ephemeral meeting of these two divine companions, a kind of communion that takes place at the end of every day.

After I returned home, I felt the need to find the old name for Kaimana Beach, also known as Sans Souci. According to Place Names of Hawai‘i, the former name of the area in the vicinity was Kapua – “The Flower”. Once a famous surfing spot in times past, it was filled in to make what is now Kapi‘olani Park. While Kapua may not be the precise name, it was a relief to find a name of the past blossom within my mind.

Going through the snapshots that I had taken that afternoon, I was particularly taken aback by the natural gradients of light of the sky at dusk at Kapua. The figurative expression for dusk in Hawaiian, I learned, is ‘ehu ahiahi – “the dust of the evening”, also signifying twilight and old age.

I’ve been hooked to Māori spin doctor Tiki Taane since I first caught a glimpse of his mindblowing video clip “Tangaroa”, off his debut album album Past, Present, Future. For those unfamiliar with Polynesian mythology, Tangaroa is the Māori god of the sea, corresponding to the Hawaiian akua Kanaloa. The track is a shock to the system, combing traditional Māori chant with a raging dancehall-style beat.

Tiki composed “Tangaroa” in response to the 2004 tsunami and humanity’s lack respect for Tangaroa and his ocean realm. In their first collaboration as father son, Uekaha Taane Tinorau, Tiki’s father, composed the following haka, or chant, for Tangaroa, channeling the spirit of Tangaroa as a force for change. (You can read Tiki and Uekaha’s full commentary on “Tangaroa” here on the Tikidub Productions website.)

Ko Papatuanuku me Ranginui nga matua o te ao
I puta mai nga tamariki nga Atua o te ao
He Atua o te moana
Ko Tangaroa he Atua o te moana
Tu mai te ihi
Tu mai te wehiwehi
Tu mai te wanawana e
Hi ha aue

From the divine heartbeat of Mother Earth and the ever-elusive constant of Sky Father
all descend and all ascend the natural world
The timeless current of tranquil stillness
the harmonic music of ones infinite ocean
Resilient are the vital influences of the universe
Stand liberated by the inner radiance
Be still be silent and all shall be revealed

Na Uekaha nga kupu Maori, na Tamiaho te whakapakehatia

Te Moananui aa Kiwa (The Great Ocean of Kiwa), Kanaloa Series by Māori artist Rua Pick

As someone who’s felt a close kinship to the moana, or the ocean, and to Kanaloa, I felt something deep and familiar when I saw “Tangaroa” for the first time. When it seemed so few remembered to honor our god of the sea, here was an homage to the God of the Sea appropriate for our time but based on the past, modern yet grounded in antiquity. In the video, Tiki looks out in the ocean only to see an ancestor appear to him on the shore. How times have I sat facing the sea or going into waves and felt something great, vast, and powerful, beyond the limits of my rational, Western education, knowing that generations past were with me in the waters.

I know that Kanaloa, our manifestation of the ocean deity in Hawai‘i, is alive. I’m always reminded of him when I see the expanse of blue ocean, hear the roar of the surf, or see his kinolau, or body form, such as the mai‘a (banana), the he‘e (squid or octopus), the koholā (whale) and other forms of ocean life.

FOR MORE INORMATION ON KANALOA/TANGAROA

Learn more about Kanaloa/Tangaroa on Blue Coast’s Kanaloa page or in Martha Beckwiths’s Hawaiian Mythology. For more on Tangaroa, Te Ara Encylopedia of New Zealand has developed a beautiful web page, Tangaroa – The Sea.

FOR MORE ON TIKI TAANE

“Tangaroa” was the first single off of Tiki’s debut Past, Present, Future, which you can purchase at the Tikidub shop as a digital download or CD, shipped directly from Aotearoa/New Zealand to you.