Activist’s art
spiritually authentic
ROCKY Ka'iouliokahihikolo'Ehu Jensen is a man who operates outside the dimension of time. He has the bright eyes and excitement for life of a child, yet his trademark beard and ponytail bear the gray that reflect his 60 years. He conducts his life by the code of a cultural system that was employed in ancient times, yet keeps his eye steadily on the 21st century.
Jensen has been a Hawaiian cultural activist for the past 30 years, but has yet to see his "cause" come to fruition. For all his complexity, what he seeks is achingly simple: recognition by modern society of Hawai'i's native esoteric culture.
As an indigenous artist practicing traditional values, Jensen knows firsthand that Hawaiian art and its very spirituality are irrevocably tied. Yet artistic cultural images are employed freely to sell products and market the isles for tourism -- all of it devoid of a sensibility for the cultural and spiritual significance of the art. It is the consequent yearning for respect for his culture that has driven Jensen for three decades to create pre-Western contact art forms and educate the world about them.
Jensen's current show, "Ho'oilina: Birthright," at the Bishop Museum, pushes his legacy a step further. "Ho'oilina" is a joint show, a triune experience that displays an array of his carvings alongside the photographic anthology of precontact Hawaiian women by his daughter Natalie Mahina Jensen, and the pen-and-ink drawings of the 12 challenges of Mau'i by son Frank Jensen. The exhibit is a collaborative effort between Bishop Museum and Hale Naua III, Society of Hawaiian Arts. It runs through Nov. 28.
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"In this show, we're battling the mundane philosophy of what culture is perceived to be," Jensen says, referring to the popular belief that Hawaiian culture is expressed simply in dance and crafts. "Art covers all of culture -- you know how they say a picture is worth a thousand words? Frankie's drawings tells the whole story about Mau'i. Photographs by Natalie tell exactly what life was like for precontact women."
As for Rocky's contribution, he's created sacred vessels (for food used in rituals, and spiritual reliquaries) and ki'i (wood carvings of ancestral and male and female principles). Jensen says his work "follows the customs and traditions that came before us. But my work is contemporary. I cannot just regurgitate what was already done -- that would make it a dead culture."
THE GIFT of Jensen's activism would likely never have surfaced if not for his partner in both life and cultural education. It was Lucia Tarallo Jensen who encouraged her husband to explore native artistic expression, and when he did, she jumped headfirst into researching Hawaiian culture. Today, she is a walking encyclopedia of information.
"Rocky studied art, but didn't do any sculpting until he was out of school," Lucia says. "One day he carved a potato, and it was beautiful."
With Lucia's encouragement, Jensen began woodcarving without training. The affinity he has for the craft is in his blood; his paternal mother's family was filled with proficient carvers, yet no one had passed on the knowledge.
"I wanted to learn from an academic, but there was no one to teach me," he says.
"Rocky went to the dump and found a big koa stump," Lucia continues the story. "He carved a woman's form in this huge stump. It was completely instinctive. When Rocky carves, he calls it 'peeling away the layers until the piece emerges.' "
Jensen's work is a modern version of the sacred art once used in Hawaiian rituals.
"Temples did have art pieces," Lucia says. "Celestial art forms originated from the temple and shrine."
Lucia explains that Ku, known as the "God of War" and the most common "tiki" image marketed today, was actually the god of many things. "Ku was life itself," she says.
When carvers searched for a tree to craft Ku, "they marked top and bottom with a kapa cord. Then they used the wood in between. Once a tree was chosen, that tree held the mana of Ku."
The carvers wrapped the log in liko lehua and 'ohia blossoms and took it to an isolated guild house, where image carvers created Ku in secrecy. When the piece was completed, the carvers wrapped Ku in 'ohia vines and blossoms, "in a womb," and carried him to the temple.
Ku would be the final of 12 male principles brought to the temple. The temple also housed an oracle tower, at the top of which a priest would guide the spirit of Ku down the tower and into the carving, giving it life. The 'ohia wrapping and Ku's "umbilical cord," which was connected to the 11 other carvings, was then cut away, and all 12 principles would have life.
"To ignore the art form, then, is to ignore Him, with a capital H," says Lucia. "Trinkets bring down the integrity of the culture."
EMPOWERED with the knowledge of the significance of Ku, the Jensens called businesses using his image as a logo. They contacted state offices, the legislature and congressmen. "We called everybody," Lucia says. "And no one cared."
That was three decades ago. The ambivalence stands today.
"Our problem is the use and abuse of the native host culture," Rocky says. "We're selling our culture for tourism. Look what they do. They play up our culture like it's an amusement park. Pu'uhonua O Honaunau (known as the City of Refuge) is run by the federal government. It's a sacred place for our people; it puts our spirits out of harm's way. And now anybody can just go hang around there. The culture has been watered down, and they keep watering it down to make it more palatable."
The Jensens say the root of why so few have their bearings on Hawaiian culture anymore is the ousting of the kapu system. With Christianity now firmly embedded in many Hawaiians' belief systems, "they're grasping at straws" culturally. "So much Christianity is interwoven, there's really no connection anymore" to the native culture, Rocky says. "The term 'Hawaiian renaissance' is used. But the culture never died."
THE JENSENS' response to all this has always been, in the words of Rocky, "to walk the talk."
When Rocky creates a spiritual work, he begins by meditating on the piece. He saves all the chips from the carving and bags them every night. "They all have the mana of that piece," Lucia explains.
"In working with the divine, you have to be really pono in what you're doing," Rocky adds.
At a community level, 30 years ago, when there was no interest in native art by Hawaiian artists, the Jensens started Hale Naua III, Society of Hawaiian Arts, which provided a place for cultural artistic exploration. Over the years, Hale Naua III has held numerous exhibitions throughout the state, the mainland and Europe.
Loosely translated as "The House of Pedigree," Hale Naua III followed in the footsteps of Hale Naua, which High Chief Haho created. to institute a system of law and order in the islands that was based on harmony. Hale Naua II was instituted by David Kalakaua during the 1880s to revitalize Hawaiian culture.
Today, when Rocky meets Hawaiians who lament not knowing their culture or genealogy, he tells them, "Is your mother Hawaiian? Your father? Start there."
"Find someone in the family to help with the genealogy. Research. Look into the stories the family told. At get-togethers, funerals and birthdays, talk to people," he advises. "The journey is ongoing. Keep that machine well-oiled."
The Jensens didn't leave their children's sense of culture to chance. Rocky says every Wednesday, "instead of going half-day to school," he took his children to the state archives or Bishop Museum and taught them how to read and write. "I'd go to the archives, give them 3-by-5 cards and tell them, 'Look for this name.' "
Alongside that education, the Jensen offspring grew up in step with their parents' art endeavors. "My sons were the 'roadies,' and at 11, Natalie was already making kahili. Frank's Mau'i anthology was something he began in high school," Rocky says. Today, Natalie and Frank tell their parents making art was what they had always wanted to do.
"'Ho'oilina' is my legacy of 30 years doing this and 60 years on the planet. I've turned the idea over to my children," he says. "The saying goes, 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.' Well, it's broke. What are the young people going to do about it?"
But if it sounds like Jensen's retiring from activism, remember that he's a complex man. A 60-year-old with the knowledge of the ages who beams like a young boy and declares, "I feel bold!"
"You know that stereotype of the angry Hawaiian sitting under the tree grumbling? I always laugh about that," Rocky says. " 'Cause whenever I find myself getting angry and frustrated at things, I tell myself, 'What have you done today?' "
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