

Kumu Hula
Taking a stand in Hawaii politics
To many of them, hula is more than art.
It's a way of life. Now they're taking that feeling
and their visibility and using them
to make a differenceBy Kekoa Catherine Enomoto
Star-Bulletin
Kumu hula are mounting a larger stage: that of politics.
As tonight's Merrie Monarch hula contest unfolds, the kumu are choreographing a different dance, the "House bill" hula.
The 'Ilio'ulaokalani Coalition of kumu hula met recently with Waiahole activist/taro grower Calvin Hoe to discuss a House bill relating to irrigation. The meeting was one of a series of workshops and vigils held across the state to monitor proposed legislation.
This new dance is a seamless pas de deux of culture and politics. As kumu hula Victoria Holt Takamine, one of seven Merrie Monarch judges and po'o (head) of 'Ilio'ulaokalani, said, "It was traditional in our culture for the alii (chiefs), who were the political leaders, to be experts in the chants, or oli, and the cultural protocols.
"But today, culture and politics are separate," she said.
Kumu hula Sonny Ching of Halau Na Mamo O Pu'uanahulu is another coalition member.
"The kumu hula are standing up and taking their place in the sovereignty movement," Ching said. "It's hard to say we're at the forefront of the movement, because so many other entities have come before us and done so much work in that direction, but the "kumu" is more prominent and visible as far as what we do as kumu hula.
"With all the legislation, we no longer have that luxury of sitting back," said Ching, whose halau performs in Merrie Monarch group competition, "of staying in our halau and doing our own thing, because our existence is being threatened, our cultural level, our physical level. One hundred years from now, there may not be any Hawaiian people left."
Alicia Smith, veteran kumu hula of Kalihi's Halau Na Maolipua, said nondance activism is vital.
Last week Smith and Takamine joined
kumu hula Manu Boyd and Kaho'onei Panoke and members of Halau Mohala 'Ilima in examining the bill on the Waiahole water system. Panoke marveled that Gov. Ben Cayetano could slash budgets yet find $10.2 million to buy the Waiahole Ditch from Amfac, whose lease expires in two years anyway.
Other matters at the weekly 'Ilio meeting: Smith's daughter Pi'ilani, 1989 Miss Aloha Hula, will sell 'Ilio T-shirts at the Merrie Monarch, and an April 25 'Ilio meeting will plan a "Ke Ao Melemele" hula drama for the new millennium.
The 'Ilio calendar also mapped out a May 20 workday in Waiahole taro patches, a May 22 public meeting at the University of Hawaii Center for Hawaiian Studies, and compiling of water chants for a December 1999 water-themed art show.
Said Smith: "We are not practitioners of hula, because we do not 'practice' hula. We live it. A select number of us (kumu) are privileged to live the hula; so now we must actively protect it."
Freshly minted activist Ching had testified against House Bill 2351, relating to traditional and customary rights. The proposed legislation would have restricted native Hawaiians from gathering on undeveloped lands the flowers and ferns that dancers weave into adornments for hula.
Before a hushed crowd in the state Capitol auditorium Jan. 24, Ching had read: "With the practice of our culture through music and dance, we are a major part of the state's economy -- the visitor industry. If you remove some of the ingredients that assist the state's largest economic force, tourism, what would you have? 'Ole, nothing.

"Visitors would surely go elsewhere as there would be nothing to make us different and unique. For that is what makes Hawaii Hawaii: the culture and the people who practice it," he said.So, while the Miss Universe Pageant waltzes into the Hawaii Convention Center for a May 12 coronation gala, Ching is using dance -- or the omission of dance -- as a political tool.
"An excellent example is the convention center. We're not even allowed to use it," he said in an interview. "Yet for the grand opening, organizers want all the halau to come and line the Ala Wai Canal, with canoes coming down the Ala Wai. They want all the halau to dance, but they want us to do it for free."
Firmly on a figurative soapbox, Ching did not pause to edit his remarks.
"The state and the city always want it for free -- always, always, always. And that just bothers me. How can they do that? They planned; they had a budget. Yet they just crap all over us -- 'Oh, come, come, come.' They don't invite the Japanese, the Chinese, the Filipinos, Tongans or Samoans, because that doesn't represent the Hawaiian people."
"'Ilio'ulaokalani as an organization will not participate," he said about the convention center opening. "For the individual halau, it's up to you; we don't want to impose our decision on others. But everybody who is really active in 'Ilio'ulaokalani will not participate. It's just for us to make a statement, that we won't be used that way."
Ching's halau will dance on live television tomorrow and Saturday the poignant hula he has choreographed about the beauties and mythology of Hawaii. His "boycott House rep" hula is equally important.
"All of these certain representatives," he laughed, "that actively participated in the writing and the pushing of these bills -- we're not performing at any of their fund-raisers. So how are they going to have Hawaiian music?"