Spent the morning with Maelia Loebenstein Carter’s Ka Pa Hula O Kauanoe O Wa’ahila, interviewing Miss Aloha Hula 2007 and watching rehearsal.
In my observation here at Merrie Monarch, different kumu hula take different approaches to rehearsal. Some are stern, all business, focused only on fine-tuning the dance. Others are gentle, like a kindly parent or aunt; no less focused on achieving their goals, but spending more time on encouragement than on admonition.
Loebenstein Carter took the latter approach on this morning of the kahiko group competition. The group, which is staying in a vacation rental house out in Keaukaha, a quiet neighborhood southwest of Hilo, had planned to rehearse on the beach this morning, but the Hilo ‘ua was falling, so they moved the furniture about in the living room of the house and the 20 dancers worked in close formation on their kahiko number.
As the dancers gathered — some are staying in another house down the road — Loebenstein Carter asked each how she had slept and inquired of particular students who are suffering ailments such as sore muscles and one girl who has a cold.
Rehearsal began with a sort of meditation and breathing exercise, with the dancers seated, cross-legged, on the floor in a large circle, eyes closed. “Ha!,” Loebenstein Carter ordered, and all breathed in. “Now let our your breath nice and slow.” And the sound of the dancers’ simultaneous exhalation was like the hissing of a volcano steam vent. Quietly, she planted the ideas in their minds that she wants to be most forward on this stressful day: “I am strong and I am powerful. I am kind and I am patient and I am loving. I am gifted, I am talented and I am humble. I am peaceful and I am calm and I am happy.” Between each, an expelled breath.
Then they rose in the many-windowed room in sight of the ocean breaking on the lava-strewn beach and began a short stretching session. “Noho ilalo!” They bent their knees in deep bends. “Hold and breathe!”
When it was time to dance, Loebenstein Carter gave them one last instruction: “Be confident in yourself and be happy and own your six minutes and 55 seconds.” There were a few giggles around the room.
As the kumu chants and slapped the ipu heke they negotiated the room seemingly without effort, despite the presence of an unmovable chest in the middle of the group, a dining room table pushed up against a wall and various chairs about the perimeter. At one point in mid-'oli, in the same rhythm and tone as the chant, Loebenstein Carter inserted a warning in English, “Watch the furniture!”
Some kumu hula stop their halau frequently during rehearsal, to the point where you think they’ll never get to the end of the dance. Some call out instructions, or point out errors. Much depends on where they are in the rehearsal process; once the dancers really know the dance (which they certainly should by this point in the process), it’s time to focus on the fine points, generally placement of hands and feet, or pronunciation errors. Others tend to watch the dance all through, making mental notes, then gathering the group the discuss issues before doing another run-through. It’s all personal to the kumu and to the halau and their needs. During these talks, some call for observations or suggestions from dancers — often the men watch the women and vice-versa, serving as the kumu’s extra pair of eyes. Some kumu, however, ask only for questions, and don’t encourage dancers to comment.
As we left, Loebenstein Carter was gathering her troupe around her, as, no doubt, the other 21 kumu were doing this morning and afternoon. Tonight, we’ll see arguably the most challenging part of the competition — not that çauana (modern) is easy, but there is so very, very much to learn in presenting kahiko (traditional). It takes the dancers so deeply into the culture.
I’ll be watching with interest. May not blog again tonight, as there are no results to report but will add to this if anything interest happens.
A hui hou!