Amy Ku'uleialoha Stillman
Introduction
A hula dance is a choreographed interpretation of a poetic text. At the heart of a hula performance is the poetic text called mele; without a poetic text, there is no basis for the choreographed movement interpretation. Body movements combine pictorial hand and arm gestures with rhythmic lower-body patterns that are named.
The hula tradition is far more than just the dance. In fact, dances are the visual end products of a comprehensive cultural system presided over by hula's patron goddess, Laka. Religious rituals dedicated to Laka surround the training of dancers. The life of a hula dancer is permeated with prayers, offerings, and protocol. The plants used on the hula altar are also the basis for the lei adornments worn by dancers in performance.
The dedication of much traditional hula repertoire to gods and ruling chiefs -- who, in traditional Hawaiian society, were regarded as descendants of the gods on earth -- has cloaked much of the hula tradition with an aura of sacredness. Yet from its beginnings in mythic antiquity, the hula has always also been a form of entertainment. One of the earliest recorded accounts of hula is in the epic myth of the volcano goddess Pele. In it, her younger sister Hi'iaka learns a dance from her friend, and performs it to Pele's delight. (The Kanaka'ole family of Hilo, Hawai'i, is the guardian of traditional repertoire related to Pele; their theatrical presentation of this repertoire was broadcast nationally on PBS' Dance in America series in October 2001.
After American Protestant missionaries converted Hawaiians to Christianity in the 1820s, the rituals of hula were maintained only in secret and by very few performers. The hula itself survived because its adherents maintained it underground, out of the sphere of missionary censure and suppression. In the 1870s, King David Kalakaua encouraged a revival of hula, and public performances flourished throughout the 1880s and 1890s.
By the early 1900s, the transformation of hula into general entertainment coincided with the rise of tourism. A new form of song that incorporated stringed instrument accompaniment and tuneful melodies, and subsequently the adoption of English-language lyrics, eclipsed in popularity the older chanted tunes accompanied solely by indigenous percussive instruments. This newer, westernized style of hula circulated widely, and eventually was subjected to distorted stereotypes in media and Hollywood movies that continue even today.
A roots-inspired revival of hula in the 1970s has brought about a coexistence of the older indigenous style of hula, now called hula kahiko, alongside the widely-recognized westernized style of hula now called hula 'auana. The basic features defining these two contrasting categories are listed below:
| Hula Kahiko | Hula 'Auana |
| "ancient" | "modern" |
| indigenous performance style | westernized performance style |
| tunes are chanted | tunes are sung |
| tunes are often not very melodious | tunes are melodious |
| multiple voices chant in unison | multiple voices harmonize |
| accompaniment is by indigenous percussive instruments | accompaniment is by string instruments such as guitar, 'ukulele, piano, bass, etc |
| movement style of dance is vigorous | movement style is softer, fluid, languid |
| costuming is indigenous; may also imitate late 19th-century photographs that show traditional skirts over western attire | costuming is often western apparel |
Watch: Mark Ho'omalu's Na Mele Hula 'Ohana performs "Wai'oli"
Watch: Sissy Kaio's Hula Halau 'O Lilinoe performs "Ala Pikake"
Hula troupes are groups that represent privately run schools called halau. The director is a master instructor called a kumu hula who is responsible for all aspects of training, costuming, and presenting dancers onstage. Many kumu hula conduct extensive research on the background of poetic texts, and aspire to cultivate awareness among their students of the rich legacy of Hawaiian history passed to the present in poetic mele, and kept alive in the performance of hula.
Dr. Amy Ku'uleialoha Stillman is Associate Professor of Music and American Culture and Director of Asian/Pacific-American Studies at the University of Michigan.
On Mele: The Heart of Hula
Completed poetic texts are the raw material for choreographic interpretation by kumu hula. While some kumu hula are also poets, and some poets are also kumu hula, poetic composition and choreographic interpretation are separate sets of skills and knowledge.
The term haku mele describes the process of poetic composition as weaving -- haku -- a poetic text. Poets are experts with deep knowledge of the Hawaiian language and its penchant for metaphor. A skillful poet is one who deftly weaves together metaphors of places and allusions to people, using images of nature. A mele, then, is a poetic text rich with kaona -- multiple layers of meanings. Common techniques in love songs include referring to a person as a flower, and invoking water images -- waterfalls, waves, streams, etc. -- to describe lovemaking.
In hula, choreography is a very personal matter of individual kumu hula rendering personal interpretations of a poetic text visually. Individual dances depict a kumu hula's reflections on the poetry and perhaps the poet's intent -- when this can be known.
Take a closer look at some examples of mele, deconstructed by kumu hula Patrick Makuakane and Hawaiian scholar Amy Ku'uleialoha Stillman. They explore the kaona or multiple meanings of the poetic texts.
Patrick Makuakane on "Kaulilua"
"Kaulilua" is a traditional mele that is included in the repertoire of many halau. It has always been a special and favorite part of our halau's repertoire. "Kaulilua" is part of the hula pahu tradition of dances accompanied by a pahu or a drum. Dances adhering to the pahu tradition usually follow strict traditional tenets and are performed within a narrow parameter of movement vocabulary. Today, many practioners of hula use the pahu to accompany a wide variety of dances. However, traditionally speaking, the pahu accompanied only a select number of mele that were considered of special significance and highly regarded.
The pahu, used in the context of the heiau or temples by kahuna (priests), were an important part of sacred ceremonies and rituals. It was believed that the sound of the pahu would alert the gods, while executing the ritualized movements would keep their attention. Sounding the pahu also conveyed messages to the general populace as to the birth of a high-born chief or other notable and significant events. In general, the pahu assumed a sacred and reverential role due to its close association with the gods and important religious services. Although the pahu used for hula is not the same as the one used for temple services, it still assumes and maintains a venerated and ceremonial nature.
Presently, I think it's safe to say that I am still interpreting the mele and will probably spend the rest of my life interpreting "Kaulilua." Its text is so rich in kaona and complexity, much of which I'm afraid is lost to antiquity. However, there is much to be said about the common interpretation, comparing Mt. Wai'ale'ale to a woman. The kaona (hidden meanings) inherent in the poem display a strong theme of injustice and redemption relayed throughout the text. The bruising of a flower, the cleansing and healing properties of rain and wind assume allegorical properties in relation to a woman who is never mentioned but alluded to. "Maui e ka pua, uwe 'eha i ke anu." "Bruised is the blossom, crying, moaning in the cold." There is a tug of emotions, expressing hurt, yet forgiveness.
"Kaulilua" has always been imbued with a sort of enigmatic mysticism. Even after all these years of chanting and dancing "Kaulilua," it still retains an esoteric nature. You could say that in terms of understanding its poetic complexities, it is at times cold and distant and at other times warm and embracing. There is a strong sense that "Kaulilua" is so much more than we really understand. The timeless beauty of the arcane poetry, coupled with the mystical sound of the pahu offer a glimpse into a time when man freely communicated with the gods in an environment supremely dedicated to the sacred and profound.
The pahu or drum accompaniment sets it apart from most dances, immediately setting the stage for something sacred to take place. It conjures a plethora of images of Mt. Wai'ale'ale and its surrounding natural elements, which are pervasively strewn throughout the poetry. It instills in me a deep sense of wonder, humility, pride, respect, reverence, gratitude and awe. I feel it is hula at its most profound incarnation.
Patrick Makuakane on "Everytime"
The repertoire in my halau covers an entire spectrum of hula, from the most traditional to some very contemporary renderings barely reminiscent of anything hula! Yet, even my most modern attempts in choreography in some way or another always pay homage to our traditions. This may be difficult for some people to see or agree with, but for my students and myself we understand this implicitly. In a way, it is our kaona.
"Everytime" is a song that came out of London on an import CD single, from a group called "Lustral" in 1997. It achieved a kind of cult status in underground dance clubs and I have always loved it. This is a savvy dance song that is brilliantly produced and executed. We performed it as a finale for one of our home seasons in San Francisco a few years ago.
"Everytime" has no kaona or hidden meanings in its text, and it is precisely for its straight-forwardness and simplicity that I so love and appreciate it all the more. The entire song is composed of three very short verses with a chorus in between. However, its simplicity should not belie its effectiveness in conveying such wonderfully articulated emotions. This is a rare commodity in the world of dance music vocals.
Although there is no kaona derived from the poetry itself, the complex layering of music and words offer a special, unique quality not found in traditional chant and drumming. "Everytime" allows my dancers and I the opportunity to tap into emotions and feelings from a very modern, yet equally viable and relevant source. And we can express these emotions through hula. One of the most valuable characteristics of the hula is its adaptability and flexibility as it struggles to retains its relevance through time.
"When I'm lonely, your voice is in my head, and my memory feeds my soul, with all the things you've said. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face."
There is an interesting duality in this song, represented by the hard, syncopated break beats and lush vocals that serenely float over them, incorporating varying musical elements while expressing a very haunting, yet excruciatingly sweet quality. This kind of style is especially represented by the progressive sound that came out of the UK in the mid to late '90s of which I am a big fan.
Non-mainstream dance music today in many cases is produced, engineered and mixed in a highly sophisticated manner that blurs musical genres and identities. I would say that all of the "club songs" used for our contemporary hula pieces employ this kind of progressive edge or sound.
Every time I hear "Everytime" an unmistakable grand sense of joy and happiness permeates my entire being and I am on an oh-so-satisfying groove! To watch this "groove" manipulated into a hula movement vocabulary seems quite astonishing, yet somehow very natural. As in traditional hula, the movement embellishes the poetry without overwhelming it.
It instills in me a deep sense of wonder and awe because of its absolute beauty.
On Mele: The Heart of Hula
Hawaiian scholar Amy Ku'uleialoha Stillman wrote the mele "Eia Kaleponi (Here is California)." Here she explains some of her mana'o (intent or ideas) and breaks down the meanings of the text.
"Eia Kaleponi (Here is California)."
by Amy Ku'uleialoha Stillman
Eia Kaleponi, he 'aina one ula
He 'aina kipa no na kupa i 'auana
He 'aina malu no ka po'e e 'imi i ke ola
He 'aina no ka nohona pumehana
He 'aina no ka ho'ola i na hanauna
He 'aina no ka ho'oulu i ka lahui 'oiwi
He 'aina haole no na kupuna
He 'aina hanau no na puaHe 'aina hau o Kaleponi i ka 'olu, he ola no makou e.
Here is California, a vast land
A land that has welcomed those who have wandered
A land that has sheltered those seeking to make a living
A land that has provided a warmth and comfort
A land that nourishes the generations
A land that supports the growth of the Hawaiian community
A foreign land for our eldersA birthland for our children
California is a peaceful and sheltering land that nurtures us all.
Mana'o: This mele was composed in February of 1998, when I collaborated with the 'Anahau o Kaleponi Hawaiian Civic Club in presenting the program "'Ohana: We are Family" at the Carpenter Performing Arts Center, CSU-Long Beach.
I wanted the mele to reflect what I hoped the program would accomplish, namely, to demonstrate the strength of cultural vitality I witnessed flourishing in California. In the few years I lived in Santa Barbara and attended cultural events throughout the southern California region, I talked story with many people, formally and informally, about living in California but maintaining cultural ties to Hawai'i. What was coming through was a sense of resentment at being considered "second-class." People in California seemed to have bought into an inferiority complex emphasized by folks in Hawai'i saying, "Oh, you folks so good -- for mainland!" Well, what I saw in the mid-1990s was a vital community celebrating their experiences of embracing Hawaiian culture but also acknowledging that their lives in California were enriched by that dimension as well.
So I wanted a way to express that living in California was positive, and that claiming a California residence could be done with pride. And then I realized that even more was at stake: since two generations have now been born and raised in California, it was important to celebrate that. It was important to stop feeling obliged to apologize for living in California. Our children are now being born there. It is their 'aina hanau (birthland).
From there, the mele flowed. It talks about California being a strange land for the ancestors who came over in search of life opportunities. It talks about California being able to sustain those folks who decided to put down roots. And it talks about California being an environment that supports continued growth and development of the Hawaiian community.
The mele has been embraced by kumu hula who are members of Kulia I ka Punawai, Kumu Hula Association of Southern California. Keali'i Ceballos used it as a mele ka'i entrance chant in Merrie Monarch in 1998; Puanani Edgar has used it in E Hula Mau in 2000; Kawika Viloria included it on his first compact disc, released in 2000; and Punawai used it in their performance at Ka 'Aha Hula o Halauola World Conference on Hula in 2001. There is a composed tune for this mele. However, I also encourage anyone for whom the words have meaning to feel free to use a tune that has meaning for them.
Dr. Amy Ku'uleialoha Stillman is Associate Professor of Music and American Culture and Director of Asian/Pacific-American Studies at the University of Michigan.
Becoming a Kumu Hula
Although many hula teachers are referred to by the title kumu hula, not all choose to undergo the rigorous training process that culminates in what is known as an 'uniki, a formal graduation ceremony.
A master teacher instructs those studying to become formally graduated kumu hula, passing on knowledge received within their own hula lineage. In addition to dance technique and choreography, training includes study of esoteric knowledge of costuming, plants, and protocol related to the hula altar dedicated to Laka, hula's patron goddess. When the teacher is satisfied that the knowledge will be responsibly used and carefully protected by the student, then an 'uniki ceremony is scheduled.
Patrick Makuakane. Photo by Julie Mau.
Here, Patrick Makuakane describes the process of training he is currently undergoing to gain recognition as a formally graduated kumu hula.
One Story of an 'Uniki
Aunty Mae greets me with great affection and aloha, as if the twenty years since we last spoke were just a whisper of time. Time has not changed Aunty's gentleness or her confident demeanor. Nor has it altered her sense of history. Scattered throughout her halau in Kane'ohe are pictures capturing the supreme grace and dignity of Ma'iki Aiu Lake, Aunty Mae's kumu. In one photo, Lokalia Montgomery, Aunty Ma'iki's kumu, stands bedecked with strands of golden 'ilima lei. Her soft brown face seems to be lit from within.
Aunty asks me to bring a table and two chairs from the garage into the studio so that we can sit and talk story. At 70, she is slight and spry. Yet her physical attributes belie her stature in hula as an immensely knowledgeable authority.
Aunty tells me about how her kumu's elders had insisted that Mae graduate students, following the carefully guarded process and the protocols of 'uniki. Thus transgenerational knowledge is successfully passed down from teacher to student and ancient rituals are not be lost or watered down. (Not everyone hues faithfully to tradition. Today the word 'uniki can refer to passing out paper certificates or to loosely structured ceremonies with few parameters; some people have even created their own stylized version of 'uniki with only vestiges of traditional customs.)
At first she resisted, but in the last two decades Aunty has taken on many students, "graduating" them variously as 'olapa (dancer), ho'opa'a (chanter) and even kumu (teacher).
In 2001, I became one of her most recent wards, following the same strict tenets of the process that she learned from Aunty Ma'iki.
"Li'uli'u wale i ka uka o Koholalele (Long have I tarried in the uplands of Koholalele) ... Ina ka pu'unui o waho nei la e/he anu e (Oh, how I suffer out here/in the cold)." So begins an oli kahea, a chant asking permission to enter the halau. This was the first chant I learned from Aunty Mae. Until I entered her halau as a student, I did not realize how cold it was outside.
Soon I was learning many more beautiful oli kahea, ranging from casual to formal. The imagery conjured by these chants and poems guides the students toward the 'ike (knowledge) they seek. Some chants are rooted in ancient myths and legends and serve as parables.
I also learned the oli komo, which is chanted inside the halau and grants the student permission to enter.
I recall once during the first months of study, when two others and I were outside the halau waiting for the designated time to begin our oli kahea. We were quite apprehensive, because we had only chanted it once before. We chanted pleadingly, fervently; to our dismay, there was no response. Aunty hadn't told us what to do if we asked and she didn't answer. Puzzled, we decided she wanted us to use another oli kahea, which we rendered very lovingly. Still, no response. We became worried. We had one more oli kahea to try, the most difficult. This was what Aunty was probably waiting for. We took deep breaths and chanted with great affection and presence. Our execution was completely sublime; I was sure the doors were going to burst open on their own! We waited. No response. By now, we were frantic, lost, and confused. We tried in vain to collect ourselves, look in our notes, and see what vital piece we may have forgotten. All of a sudden, a blue streak of steel sped down the driveway, unceremoniously jerking to a stop in the garage. Out from the dark blue sedan popped Aunty Mae, breathlessly asking if we got the message that she was going to be late. "I hope you guys were practicing!" she added.
About two dozen students join me in Aunty's 'uniki class. Some of us have been with her for many years. Most have already gone through an 'uniki, graduating as 'olapa and perhaps even ho'opa'a.
Two other students, like me, are from California: Shawna Ngum, a close friend and fellow dancer from the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, and Rolanda Reese, an expatriate living in Los Angeles who teaches at Loyola Marymount University. We each possess decades of experience in hula, but none of us has ever participated in a formal 'uniki. We are attempting to graduate in all three levels at the same 'uniki. Aunty feels that our past experience, coupled with her formidable approach, will allow us to successfully accomplish this. No pressure...
One of the most important parts of our training is to study the poetry of our tradition. Every chant we learn must be meticulously researched. This includes learning vocabulary, breaking down kaona (metaphors, double entendres, and veiled meanings), reviewing pertinent myths, and casting about for historical references and anecdotes. We are expected to develop our own thoughts for each chant, song, or dance. Studying with Aunty has allowed me to strip away a lot of the uncertainties and mysteries, revealing certain truths that have surprised and delighted me.
For an 'uniki, each student must fashion his or her own hula instruments, such as the pahu (drum), ipu heke (double gourd), 'uli'uli (feathered gourd rattle), or puniu (small knee drum).
Constructing the pahu hula is important because the drum is embued with sacredness. Typically, you meet every Saturday for several months until it's finished. For those of us who could only work once a month, it took six months. The process starts with finding a log from a coconut tree, removing the thick bark, digging out the center, then carving a design on the drum. All of this is done while adhering to a strict use of manual implements. No electric tools allowed! There was a lot of pounding, huffing, and puffing. After the first day, my body was sore for a week. Every night I dreamt of power tools.
Our 'Uniki Papa Laua'e (my class bears the name of a favorite island fern) is scheduled for this August. Aunty Mae will make the decision about who will graduate -- and at what level -- on the day of the 'uniki, after carefully scrutinizing circumstances and the performance of certain rituals. Ho'ailona (signs and omens) may predict good or ill will. Students who pick up a hula implement with the wrong hand may not be allowed
to puka (graduate). Eat the wrong end of the pig and you're dead meat!
Several elements of the 'uniki remain secret, even to participants. However, I can share a few details of the two-day ceremony with you. On the first day, dancers will arrive at a designated time (tardiness results in expulsion) to meet with the kumu and other key participants. Dancers prepare their leis and garments for the next day's festivities. Rituals may include bathing in the sea for purification. Special attention is paid to preparing and cooking the pig and other foods that will be eaten the next day.
The second day, invited guests arrive. These include close family and friends of the dancers as well as elders of the hula community. The students eat a carefully prepared Hawaiian meal composed of foods representing characteristics the students must embody. One important ritual is the 'ailolo ceremony. All the students must eat the brains of a pig without leaving a single morsel remaining. The 'ailolo ceremony is a rite reserved for 'uniki in which someone is obtaining the rank of kumu.
I cannot yet tell you how this journey will end. No matter the outcome, preparing for the 'uniki has been unforgettable. Everything I learned put me further in touch with our traditions and our rich, complex history. The knowledge I acquired made hula and our culture less enigmatic (though still esoteric). I unlocked many mysteries and discovered new ones. I even made my own drum -- an unparalleled feat on my part, given my usual incompetence with any kind of tool!
My students will be surprised to hear that I re-discovered the joy of being a student. And, of course, there was the privilege of spending one week in Hawai'i every month for two years.
But even that doesn't match the privilege of being back here and carrying on that tradition.
--Patrick Makuakane
Notes
- Information discussed in this paragraph derives from the following sources: Office of Hawaiian Affairs. 2002. Native Hawaiian Data Book. Honolulu, Office of Hawaiian Affairs Research Study; Wright, Paul. 1979. Residents Leave Paradise: A Study of Outmigration from Hawaii to the Mainland. Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i.
- Information discussed in this paragraph derives from the following sources: Barman, Jean. 1995. "New Land, New Lives: Hawaiian Settlement in British Colombia." The Hawaiian Journal of History 29: 1-32; Belli, Anthony M. 1999. "Kanaka Jack's Lost Gold." Unpublished paper; Calhoon, F.D. 1986. Coolies, Kanakas, and Cousin Jacks and Eleven Other Ethnic Groups Who Populated the West During the Gold Rush Years. Sacramento, F.D. Calhoon, Standard Publishing; Halualani, Rona Tamiko. 2002. In The Name of Hawaiians: Native Identities and Cultural Politics. Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press; 'I'i, John Papa. 1959. Fragments of Hawaiian History. Trans. by Mary Kawena Pukui. Honolulu, Bishop Museum Press; Kame'eleihiwa, Lilikala. 1992. Native Land and Foreign Desires: Pehea La E Pono Ai? Honolulu, HI, Bishop Museum Press; Kauanui, J.Kehaulani. 1999. "Off-Island Hawaiians 'Making' Ourselves at 'Home': A [Gendered] Contradiction in Terms?" Women's Studies International Forum 21 (6): 681-693; MacKenzie, Melody Kapilialoha. 1991. Native Hawaiian Rights Handbook. Honolulu, Hawai'i, Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation and Office of Hawaiian Affairs; MacKenzie, Melody Kapilialoha. 1993, February. "1893-1993: Overthrow, Annexation, and Sovereignty." Hawaii Bar Journal: 8-11; Malo, David. 1951. Hawaiian Antiquities. Trans. by Dr. Nathaniel B. Emerson in 1898. Honolulu, HI, Bishop Museum Press; Quimby, George, I. 1972. "Hawaiians in the Fur Trade of Northwest America, 1785-1820." Journal of Pacific History, 7, 92-103; Ramsland, Margaret A. 1974. The Forgotten Californians. Jensen Graphic; "The World in California." February 1857. Hutchings' California Magazine, Volume I; Wright, Paul. 1979. Residents Leave Paradise: A Study of Outmigration from Hawaii to the Mainland. Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i; Wright, Paul. 1983. "Ethnic Difference in the Outmigration of Local Born Residents from Hawai'i." Social Processes in Hawaii, 30, 731.
- Information discussed in this paragraph derives from the following sources: Halualani, Rona Tamiko. 2002. In The Name of Hawaiians: Native Identities and Cultural Politics. Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press; Kauanui, J.Kehaulani. 1999. "Off-Island Hawaiians 'Making' Ourselves at 'Home': A [Gendered] Contradiction in Terms?" Women's Studies International Forum 21 (6): 681-693; Wright, Paul. 1979. Residents Leave Paradise: A Study of Outmigration from Hawaii to the Mainland. Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i; Wright, Paul. 1983. "Ethnic Difference in the Outmigration of Local Born Residents from Hawai'i." Social Processes in Hawaii, 30, 731.