I know very little about hula, but last week it was most of the local news, for good reason. Hula is as much a part of Hawaii as fish and poi or kalua pork. Dance in general has always been a little outside my comfort zone. In high school I was intimidated about dancing because I could feel the disapproval for my lack of skill. I finally learned in college ten years later that I could fake it and no one cared. I suspect that was as much a generational change than a change in me. I grew up near Philadelphia where Bandstand originated and many rushed, home to watch, or maybe appear.
Hula is important here and has a long history including when it was suppressed by the missionaries for almost 100 years. Like most cultural customs it went underground until King Kalakaua revived it. The missionaries in their three-piece wool suits and top hats or chin-high gingham dresses were horrified by the Hawaiian lack of clothing. Hula dancers often wore just a pa’u (short) skirt, or malo (loincloth) and some beads. Cook’s on-board artist documented this. So did Mark Twain 60 years later. Clothing was unimportant in Hawaii’s climate, it often had more to do with a person’s status that the weather. There was a practical Hawaiian raincape made of ti leaves.
Although dancing is often presented as entertainment it always appears to me to be more for the dancers than the audience, whether its hula, square, disco, ballet, or Bandstand. One day at the Waipio valley overlook I saw a hula class in session. I was not inclined to watch until one lithe 15-year-old young woman in lavender leotard and tights caught my eye. When she danced, every joint in her body was in motion all the time, from the hips to the knuckles.One of the most fascinating things I have ever seen. After that all other hula dancers seem like beginners.They may be prettier or sexier, but can’t match that girl.
During covid I was invited to watch some of the Merrie Monarch competitors on closed circuit TV. I could not tell if they were skilled dancers, because their enormous costumes made me think of dancing haystacks. I hope that was just a particular evening. This year’s photo coverage shows a lot of imagination in costumes, and sometimes one can see the dancer’s limbs.
Haole (foreign) values made voluminous clothing a form of conspicuous consumption, like having a German car or manicured lawn. My daughter went to dance classes for years, and there were numerous competitions. All of which required costumes. Some girls had a mother or grandmother that loved to sew, and those aunties would produce some amazing sartorial art. Those of us without access to that skill were under a lot of pressure. Eventually the non-sewers rebelled. We told the powers that be: Make any costume decisions you want, but everything has to come from the JC Penny catalog. That way the scoring would be based on skill and not who had a professional dress designer in the family. Just as in hula, costumes matter, but should not overwhelm the performance.
Another interesting issue has come up this year. Lehua flowers are an integral part of original costume tradition. Those are the flowers of the ohia tree. The ohia are threatened by a mysterious infection that can rapidly kill a magnificent tree or an entire grove. It has become critical that no part of the ohia be discarded carelessly away from where it grew, and the participants, as far as I know were conscientious. Ohia has been a valuable timber. I was told it was the only tree that could be cut down debarked and immediately be used for a structural column. That was, until last year. I then heard that the bureaucracy that creates building codes inserted a requirement that ohia columns have a steel core. If this is true ohia goes from a very economical local sourced renewable column material to a prohibitively expensive one requiring imported steel and sophisticated machining, or the ohia is just a veneer.
Traditions should not be trampled if they don’t impede rights.
Ken Obenski is a forensic engineer, now safety and freedom advocate in South Kona. He writes a biweekly column for West Hawaii Today. Send feedback to obenskik@gmail.com