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HILO >> From the moment it began last evening, the final night of the 39th Merrie Monarch Festival promised to be a lighter affair, the tensions of the previous days' competitions now lost amid the convivial rhythms of the 'auana (modern dance) portions of the event.
Final night showcases
Miss Aloha Hula's halau sparkles
lighter modern hulaBy Scott Vogel
svogel@starbulletin.comRaising a few eyebrows even as they won the hearts of the crowd were the kane of Honolulu's Halau I Ka Wekiu, clad in jeans and Western shirts. Seeming to defy the constrictions of denim at every turn, the men's gestures left little doubt that when a romantic couple go for a horseback ride ... well, there was a lot of going up and down.
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Renegade kumu hula Johnny Lum Ho, who dared to inject some humor into the previous night's kahiko competition by creating a dance whose theme was back pain, once again did not disappoint the hometown crowd.A hula travelogue of sorts, Ho's piece took the audience on a whirlwind tour of the island of Niihau, including a stop at the Jubilee Church that the halau performed with pitch-perfect jubilation.
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The men of Halau Na Mamo O Ka'ala decamped to the beach, their fast-stepping hula describing a day of perfect sunny weather and blue seas (courtesy the blue skirts they wore over white slacks) that seemed to make the barrel-vaulted ceiling of Edith Kanaka'ole Stadium magically disappear. At that point, sailing away was no longer out of the question, and that option became all the more attractive once the wahine of Halau O Ke 'Anuenue arrived on the stage, their dance (created by kumu hula Glenn Vasconcellos) a nautical history lesson dedicated to the sailing ships of Hawaii's past.And just before intermission and the performances of the final 14 halau, a wry, flirtatious dance arrived courtesy of a group of kane from Los Angeles, Halau Keali'i O Nalani. Dancing to the tune "Ku'u Sweetie," the men winked and swaggered with bravado, their suggestive glances having a catnip-like effect on several wahine in the audience, who promptly forgot themselves and hooted like a bridal shower party at Chippendale's.
Thank goodness it was time for a bathroom break.
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HILO >> To the outside world, it must seem like a mysterious brew indeed -- an art, a sports competition and a pageant all stirred into an odd, if delightful, concoction. The world of competitive hula is like life, perhaps too much so. As in life, success comes after years of sweat and determination. But also as in life, sometimes all the work in the world isn't enough. There must be talent present, or in this case... Miss Aloha Hula’s halau
twinkles in its artBy Scott Vogel
svogel@starbulletin.com"The hula twinkle."
What?
Sitting in the stands, her dancers rehearsing for the final time before last night's 'auana portion of the Merrie Monarch Festival competition, Paleka Leina'ala Mattos struggles to distill the essence of great hula. It's not as if she doesn't know what it is. After all, as kumu hula (along with her brother Kunewa Mook) of Oahu's Hula Halau O Kamuela, her girls have won the overall wahine title for the past three years. But you get the sense that the twinkle is ungraspable as a concept, only known by examples.
And so Mattos begins speaking in specifics, and as luck would have it, a twinkling star races by. It is halau member Malia Ann Kawailanamalie Petersen, Miss Aloha Hula 2002, glowing even brighter since her coronation two nights before. During a break, Petersen performs a solo for her hula sisters, a dance celebrating the beauty of Oahu's Manoa Valley.
"See the way she looks at you?" says Mook. "I still get chicken skin every time I watch her. Look at her arms and the way she flows. You can't take your eyes off her."
They're watching with rapt attention: her hula sisters, their parents, the Merrie Monarch cleanup crew, KITV technicians setting up for the night's broadcast. Everyone either marvels or blushes when Petersen's eyes catch them. Quite a potent force, this hula twinkle.
Still, knowing that Petersen would be competing for the Miss Aloha Hula crown against three daughters of kumu hula, Mattos didn't like her chances.
"I said, 'Oh my God. This girl is going to have to work for her title. She's going to have to prove it to the judges.'"
And prove it she did, just as she is proving it now for the small but rapidly growing rehearsal audience. The applause at the end is mighty, and tears form in the eyes of the twinkle-challenged. What contribution did Mattos make to this astronomical phenomenon?
"In the halau you have so many girls dancing, right? There's one girl that stands out. She has a special quality. I look at that quality and try to bring out even more of what she has. Every girl is individual, and I try not to make them all dance like me."
It sounds deceptively simple when Mattos and Mook explain it. But the best kumu, they say, are catalysts, experts at marrying a young soul to the stern demands of an ancient discipline. To that end, you have to pay attention to aesthetics.
"It's how you dress, it's how you prepare them to go on the stage. Some of the dresses are so gaudy. A lot of them don't choose the right accents, the right flowers for the hair. Malia had the a'ali'i blossom on her neck and in her hair, the same flower that's talked about in that song. A lot of people don't really put all those things together."
But before the costuming comes the labor, the months and years of practice that set Mattos' and Mook's girls apart.
"I'm just like any of the other halau," Mattos says. "It's just that I work harder. And I believe in my dancers a lot more than some people believe in theirs. Some people do it for fun. I can do it for fun, but it costs a lot of money to come over here just for fun. It's a competition. If I wanted to do it for fun I'd take them to a luau party and they could dance there and have a good time."
And yet, no work or attention to detail is enough without that third thing Mattos mentioned. Were the wahine registering on her twinkle meter?
"They're ready," Mattos says with a calm smile.
