Hawaii’s World
ONE recent evening we were dining in Waikiki with a view of Diamond Head -- and Diamond Head disappeared. It just plain dropped out of sight. Light up Diamond
Head at nightThere was a reason, of course. The sun had set, and there was no moon.
How sad, I thought, to lose Diamond Head just like that. After all, it is Hawaii's most recognizable landmark -- a symbol of what makes Hawaii magical.
A gigantic explosive volcanic eruption under shallow water created it thousands of years ago. Ash was thrown high into the sky. Winds blew most of the settling dust into the majestic shape we know and love today -- somewhat like a recumbent Lion King, its head pointed to the sea.
Residents recognize it in a second. Maybe a billion people worldwide recognize it, too. Some of them have been here. For others, its pictures are part of a nostalgic longing.
How sad to not be able to see it for hours on end, even though it has stayed right there and will outlast all of us.
How simple the remedy could be. Illuminate it at night, tastefully like a lot of backyard lighting, not garishly.
Flood lights at its base could send beams up its slopes, even highlighting the shadowed serrations that add to its beauty. This would be no more of a problem to passing aircraft than the night lights of Waikiki. These form a beautiful shoreline crescent and let the cognoscenti know that blacked-out Diamond Head is just above them.
But why hide it at all? The remedy seems so easy, and probably not horribly expensive -- though various public agencies, I am sure, will protest they don't want it added to their electricity bill. Here we need a command decision -- as from Governor Cayetano, perhaps.
The internationally famous sculptor, Isamu Noguchi, once pondered trying to place on Diamond Head a symbol that would rank with the Statue of Liberty as a gateway to America: Liberty beckoning Europeans, a Diamond Head sculpture welcoming arrivals from the Pacific and Asia.
Sarah Richards, then director of the State Foundation on Culture and the Arts, now president of Hawaii Theatre, recalls talking to Noguchi about this five or six years before his 1988 death at age 84.
In 1977 Noguchi did Sky Gate, the black pipe array on the grounds of Honolulu Hale that opens on the sky. It was supposed to be at the intersection of several walkways. These were never moved to make it so. Worse luck, because from Sky Gate there is a straight-on view past City Hall and the mall fronting the State Capitol.
Noguchi had a particular passion for America and loved Hawaii. His father was Japanese, his mother American. He grew up in both countries, and finally settled on Long Island, N.Y.
For Richards he sketched some triangular forms he thought might be the Pacific Statue of Liberty. He thought of a beam of light going straight up into the sky from Diamond Head at night.
Noguchi was proud of "thinking big" and this particular big thought likely would have been fought by both the Federal Aviation Administration and environmental protectionists. But what about my more modest suggestion?
A.A. Smyser is the contributing editor
and former editor of the the Star-Bulletin
His column runs Tuesday and Thursday.