COURTESY KUMU KAHUA THEATRE
Sybil Bingham (Anne Marie MacPherson) comforts Pali (Mary Stringer), a fugitive Hawaiian, in Kumu Kahua Theatre's production of "The Conversion of Ka'ahumanu."
Kamehameha II. Kamehameha III. Boki. Liliha. All four alii resisted the imposition of alien values and an alien religion on the Hawaiian people in the 1820s. None are acknowledged by name in Kumu Kahua's revival production of "The Conversion of Ka'ahumanu," but all four ran afoul of playwright Victoria Nalani Kneubuhl's formidable protagonist. Play offers intriguing look
at 1820s cultural conflicts
"The Conversion of Ka'ahumanu, presented at Kumu Kahua Theatre, 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays (except Nov. 28), and 2 p.m. Sundays, through Dec. 8. Tickets $13 to $16 (discounts for seniors, students and groups). Call 536-4441.
Review by John Berger
jberger@starbulletin.comThe play, first presented by Kumu Kahua as "The Conversion" in 1988, is both entertaining and thought-provoking theater, although best appreciated by those already familiar with Hawaiian history.
The historical context bears repeating: Ka'ahumanu was not Kamehameha's only wife, nor was she the mother of Kamehameha's designed heir and designated successor, Liholiho (who reigned as Kamehameha II), but for reasons that playwright Kneubuhl never makes clear, no one challenged Ka'ahumanu when she appointed herself kuhina nui (roughly, regent) and for all intents and purposes usurped the adult king's political and decision-making power.
Ka'ahumanu persuaded (or tricked or intimidated) Liholiho into publicly eating with female alii -- thus breaking the traditional kapu system that would have kept her from fully exercising her power as kuhina nui -- and then led the campaign to smash the power of the kahunas and desecrate the heiaus where the gods were honored.
This took place in 1819. The first group of missionaries arrived in 1820. Ka'ahumanu converted to Christianity in 1825.
Ka'ahumanu clearly had a personal agenda for overthrowing the kapu system -- which, it was clear, was enforced by men when they caught transgressors, and not directly by the gods. The circumstances of her conversion to Christianity -- beyond a dream she reported having during a near-fatal illness -- are more enigmatic.
The vibrant foundation of Kumu Kahua's current production is Nyla Ching-Fujii, who stars in the title role. She creates a perfect portrait of a strong and powerful woman who evidently had no qualms about exploiting her indulgent husband's death in order to elevate herself above his sons. Kneubuhl's Ka'ahumanu speaks throughout as though she is the sole ruler of Hawaii; no mention is made of that fact that Liholiho came to the throne as an adult and died in 1824 -- before Ka'ahumanu converted -- and that he was succeeded on the throne by his younger brother, Kauikeaouli. The opinions and wishes of "the king" were apparently irrelevant to her.
Ching-Fujii neatly captures the basic Hawaiianness modern island audiences expect, while the scenes in which Ka'ahumanu challenges missionary wives Lucy Thurston and Sybil Bingham to justify their god's prohibition against nudity and sexual pleasure are reminiscent in tone and ambience to similar exchanges between Anna and the king in "The King & I."
Cross-cultural perspectives are explored as the missionaries express their "shame and embarrassment" at the Hawaiians' natural attire and struggle to accept the large, dark-skinned people as "human," while the Hawaiians stare in amazement at the "thin and sickly" missionary women with their unnecessary layers of clothing. "Now we know why haole men go crazy (over Hawaiian women)," one Hawaiian woman says.
The missionary wives were prolific writers, and Kneubuhl's portraits of Thurston and Bingham are richly detailed. We learn of the events that caused them to become missionaries, and of their sincere desire to bring the word of God to Hawaii. The depth of their fervor may seem politically incorrect today, but Kneubuhl makes it clear that these women and their husbands had no materialistic agenda in coming to Hawaii and truly believed that they were doing God's will.
Anne Marie MacPherson (Bingham) and Mary Stringer (Thurston) are excellent; the characters are not instantly likable for several reasons, but MacPherson and Stringer quickly lift them above the level of stereotypes.
We watch as the wives dutifully study Hawaiian and try to convince Ka'ahumanu that she should convert -- even as Thurston struggles to overcome a deep-seated dislike of the people whose souls she's trying to save. We hear the excruciating details of Thurston's mastectomy (which was performed without anesthetic). We watch with increasing fascination as Bingham is persuaded to experience lomi lomi (massage) and unintentionally reveals that she is not a stranger to romantic thoughts.
The two other characters are "wunzas" (as in "one's a ..."). Moani Miller portrays a Hawaiian woman whose place in traditional society was defined by her gender and the circumstances of her birth, and who now feels the impact of whites' racial attitudes as well. Dorothy Stamp is a hapa-haole woman secure in the knowledge that she can always attract a man, but who can't seem to find a love that lasts.
All three are perplexed by the religion of the new haole god. What kind of god tells people that life is for tears and sorrow and that happiness is for after death? No sex except between men and women for the purpose of procreation, no drinking and no card playing -- what kind of life is that?
Ka'ahumanu converted, and by the time of her death in 1832, the missionaries and Christian chiefs had the upper hand in the on-again, off-again struggle with Kamehameha III, Liliha and Nahienaena (the king's sister and dearest love).
In a final moving monologue by Ching-Fujii, Kneubuhl suggests that Ka'ahumanu may still have had doubts about some of her decisions. If so, we now know that she was correct and that her worst fears for the future of Hawaii were more than justified.
Director Kelly Williams makes her Kumu Kahua debut a strong one with a great cast, excellent pacing and astute attention to sight lines (Kumu Kahua productions have been known to suffer from bad staging that results in parts of the audience being unable to see key parts of the performance). Credit both the cast and Kneubuhl's script with making each scene -- and almost every line -- of interest, even when the historical perspectives are open to question.
Dan Gelbmann's circular three-level set neatly defines different locales, and Summer Duarte's brief performances on pre-contact Hawaiian musical instruments provide an imaginative way of indicating the transition between scenes.
It's unfortunate that no information is provided in the playbill about the Hawaiian chant that is part of the performance. It must be important to the story of Ka'ahumanu, but the lack of program notes ensures that only those few people who speak fluent Hawaiian will know what it signifies.
Click for online
calendars and events.
