Hula

by Amedee Conley-Kapoi

Origins

As I sat down on the bench within hālau, our hula practice space, I looked at my hula brother,Bronson, and sighed. After a long night of practice, we were both exhausted from the night’s work of Merrie Monarch Festival preparation. “Hi, Bron,” I said. “How are you tonight,” I continued. Bronson then replied, “Maikaʻi. How are you, Miss Kaua?” “I am maikaʻi,” I replied. “Bronson, what does hula mean to you?” He replied, “In hula, we are storytellers – we are historians. We are chanters of science. Everything is in hula, so hula is about life. The art of dance is embedded in our human history. Before written language, ancient civilizations around the world utilized the hands, feet, arms, legs, and expressions of the body to create bonds with one another and to pass on history. In prehistoric times, dance began with less complex movements, mainly involving the arms and footsteps. Dances were used to represent the everyday life of humans including hunting, marriage, survival, and even death. Within the Middle Age period, the types and styles of dance became more complex, involving the mind with natural, graceful, and pronounced movements. This idea was present within the Western contemporary versions of dance. As for the native peoples of different tribes and groups outsideof the Western identity, dance served as much more than just a social confidence. Dance was the physical embodiment of languages, songs, and chants. Today, native and indigenous dance has served as a way to hold onto a culture that does not exist solely as an “ancient art form.” It is a means of well-being and an act of survival for our people. Many forms of dance, such as the hula, siva, lakalaka, and Native American dances, allow the cultures of these various indigenous peoples to stay alive. In the same sentiment, it allows the people to stay alive through the social, physical, and spiritual benefits that these various dances provide. With all of these aspects in mind, dance has become a way of life for many individuals.

Ola Kino

The dances are the physical representation of what we like to call in Hawaiʻi “ola kino,” meaning the well-being of the physical, mental, and spiritual state of a kanaka (person). With every footstep, arm swing, bent leg, and sway of the hip, there are different levels of energy exertion. This becomes highly beneficial to the ethnic minorities that share a common burden within indigenous and non-indigenous ethnic communities around the world. According to the National Library of Medicine, in the survey of the “Metabolic Equivalent Determination in the Cultural Dance of Hula,” “Ethnic minorities in the United States have an unequal burden of cardiometabolic diseases of diabetes, heart disease, and obesity compared to the general population —- Native Hawaiians (NH) experience among the highest prevalence of cardiometabolic disease in the US.” Through the cultural practice of hula in the Hawaiian culture, which is active among both men and women, Native Hawaiians are able to improve theirhealth through the complex movement and expert knowledge of different techniques that the hula requires.

Many humans crave the connection with the earth and the environment. In Hawaiʻi, this connection with the ʻāina (land) is heightened due to the endless elements that we witness in our day-to-day lives. In hula hālau (dancing schools), an ʻōlapa (hula dancer) is not only required to learn choreography but also engage in the other practices that are needed to understand what hula is. These aspects include learning about oli (chant), mele (song), ʻaʻahu (clothing and costume), and wehi (adornments) (“Hula as a Sustainable Practice,” 2020). Through these sub-practices, kanaka (Hawaiian people) are able to build stronger connections to the ʻāina, otherwise known as the natural world, further emphasizing the fact that hula does not exist on its own.

Like many cultural gatherings around the world, dance also provides a space for community, family, and social belonging. Cultural dancing and bonds strengthen an individual's acceptance and cultural connectedness, providing a sense of completeness. For kanaka, hula can bring out feelings that allow them to express themselves. However, even as a soloist, hula requires unity. The sense of individuality is surrendered to expressing the meaning and the story being danced when in a group — the knowledge of the history and understanding of the mele (song) facilitates a relationship that sparks interpretation, imagination, and creativity skills within hula (“Hula: Past and Present, Local and Global,” 2005). The community gathering to express this ancient practice provides a space of belonging, ultimately allowing the practice of the hula and its other aspects to be continuously perpetuated through groups and through an individual ʻōlapa (hula dancer).

Heartbeat

In the times when paper and pen did not exist in Hawaiʻi, hula was a tool that was utilized to pass down information from generation to generation. In this way, hula acts as one of the various forms of ʻike kūpuna, otherwise known as traditional knowledge. The traditional knowledge comes from a multitude of moʻolelo (stories) that make up the Hawaiian culture and people. However, the moʻolelo that the hula accompanies are not solely myths and legends. These stories range from knowledge of fishing techniques, love affairs, journeys across the islands and oceans, genealogies of families, and various histories of foreign influences upon the Native Hawaiian people. In an interview with Hawaiian Language Activist, Larry Kimura, and famous Hawaiian revivalist Edith Kanakaʻole, who was also a composer of several songs and chants, Kankaʻole shares about her famous mele “Ka Uluwehi O Ke Kai”, meaning “Plants of the Sea.” “I wrote this song many years ago because my favorite thing to do is to go to the ocean, go fish, gather limu, that’s what I like to do, so I thought I ought to write a song about different kinds of limu,” says Kanakaʻole. This particular mele (song) was written for the līpoa, the kohu, and the līpalu, the famous seaweeds that are found within the islands of Hawaiʻi. As Aunty Edith Kanakaʻole notes, “those are the delicious kinds of limu,” (“Manaleo Series,” Kealopiko). The dance of our people is a way of transmitting knowledge and individual stories, such as the knowledge of the different kinds of seaweed talked about by Kanakaʻole. King David Kalākaua, known as the “Merrie Monarch,” once said, “Hula is the language of the heart and, therefore, the heartbeat ofthe Hawaiian people.” Dancing about all of the knowledge stored within these hula, oli, and mele helps to carry on the “heartbeat” to future generations.

Reclamation and Resistance

Before Western contact in Hawaiʻi, hula had been a part of the life of the Native Hawaiian people. The hula that was practiced honored chiefs and chiefesses and also told stories about the weather patterns, the environment, and the heavens. Hula was life. This sacred way of life was stripped away from the people and the islands several times, including during the introduction of foreign people and diseases from Captain Cook in 1778 and during the arrival of missionaries and Christian influence in 1820. A hula resurgence began under King David Kalākaua in hopes of reviving the people and the culture from so much harm. This was short-lived by the illegal annexation of Hawaiʻi to the United States. As National Geographic mentioned in “The surprising history of Hawaiʻi’s hula tradition,” many Americans learned about hula and the islands through the 1915 Panama-Pacific exposition for the company in San Fransisco. “It ignited a Hawaiian craze and the whitewashed version of hula – with cellophane skirts and coconut shell bras – that permeated Hollywood movies, tiki bars, and vaudeville shows,” (“The surprising history of Hawaiʻi’s hula tradition” 2022). Time and time again, the ancient art form and transmission tool were exploited and assimilated into foreign contexts.

In 1963, the Merrie Monarch Festival began as a way to honor the late King David Kalākaua, the Hawaiian culture and people, and especially the hula. Shortly after, in the 1970s, the HawaiianRenaissance began – a cultural renaissance that observed the revival of the Hawaiian language, music, hula, celestial navigation, and voyaging (‘Āina Momona, 2021). This new cultural awareness also sparked political activism within the people, which allowed them to seek greater sovereignty for the lāhui (Native Hawaiian nation). Y et again, hula was brought back to life and, since then, has been perpetuated by many kanaka— acting as a symbol of survival after years of struggle. A clear example of this strive for perpetuation is exemplified through the various hula legacies and styles that are exhibited within the Merrie Monarch Festival. Many of the dances, oli, and mele come from different islands, meaning the festival is a neverending encyclopedia. By dancing the hula, we are able to honor our island homes along with the plethora of knowledge that comes from the moʻolelo (stories) we showcase when we hula.

Among the various legacies and styles of hula that each hālau displays, we all have one thing in common – the aloha and passion for the hula, as well as the awareness of motion. The aloha (love) for this ancient practice reminds us of the kūleana (responsibility) that we have to carry these stories, songs, chants, and dances on. This love bleeds into our every motion, every footstep, every flick of our fingernails and eyelashes. Our human action of motion and dance ignite the reclamation of our histories as a people after so many of these aspects of our lives were almost lost. In the “Universal Elements and Types of Dance,” MasterClass instructors express that through the movements of any dancer, “Each motion enables the choice to move in any direction,” (MasterClass, 2021). Just as each motion opens up new pathways for the dancer, cultural dances have evolved and adapted over generations, carrying the stories, struggles, and triumphs of their individual communities. Dancing the hula not only opens our minds to interpreting the knowledge our kūpuna (ancestors) stored within songs and chants, but also tobetter our understanding of the world around us. A simple motion within a hula today allows for the histories of our people to be acknowledged and also celebrated. Our struggle as a people through the perpetuation of our culture has allowed us to dance and live with a greater sense of appreciation for our culture.

A way of life

With this greater appreciation for the motion of our ancestors, we are able to move with aloha and pride throughout our lives. In this way, hula becomes a breath of life. This “ancient art form” is a breath of life in the sense that it “breathes” life into me through all the values, life lessons, struggles, and times of happiness and laughter that hula gives to me – not just by dancing but also through my hula ʻohana, meaning hula family. Hula is also a breath of life through the way that we as hula dancers, are able to embody what a mele or an oli is talking about. Hula is more than just an art form. It serves as one of the many forms of ʻike kūpuna (traditional knowledge). Hula is a way to pass down information and moʻolelo so that it can live on. Because of this reason, hula really breathes life into our moʻomeheu (culture) and also gives power to the next generations to be able to continue to pass down this knowledge.

This past Winter 24’ term, I had the privilege of representing Hālau Kekuaʻokalāʻauʻalaʻiliahi in the Merrie Monarch Festival as a Miss Aloha Hula participant. The mele kahiko (traditional hula/song) that I danced was written for Princess Kaʻiulani. Kaʻiulani has served as a consistent role model for many young Native Hawaiian girls. At one point in time, she was known as thethriving hope for the lāhui as she was recognized as a future leader for Hawaiʻi. What is admirable to know is that this princess was a girl who also loved music, surfing, company with friends, humor, and still had a burning passion to serve her people as she ventured across the world to acquire an education and fight for her Hawaiian nation. This particular mele calls out to Kaʻiulani as she is on a journey far away from the home islands. In the first line of the kahiko, it says, “Kawehiu wahine he inoa, a hea la ʻoe hoʻi mai?” – “when will you return, Kaiulani?”

After pondering on this mele kahiko, my kumu (hula teachers) and I realized that it uncovers a different perspective from our loved ones who miss us while we are away from home. In this case, Kaʻiulani was greatly missed by her ʻohana and her people while she was acquiring and education in hopes of returning back home to share her knowledge with the community. I believe she serves as a huge inspiration to me because I am also a student and young kanaka maoli (Native Hawaiian) of a higher institution 5,000 miles away from home at Dartmouth. In times when I start to miss home or become challenged in my schoolwork, I think about the sacrifice Princess Kaʻiulani made to her people and find my strength through her story. One day, it is my hope that I will bring this new-gained experience and knowledge back to my people, just as Kaʻiulani did in her time.

“Hula is our expression. Hula gives us our identity. The various ideals and values that we learn within hula we are able to practice outside of hula. It teaches us to persevere in trials. It teaches us about our love for Ke Akua (God), our respect for the land, our respect for our kumu(teachers), our respect for others. Having to represent our hālau at all times while being a dancer— in life, in business, in my profession – I am able to bring those values and practices and use it to our advantage,” Bronson finishes. E ola ka hula, e ola ke kanaka, e ola ka lāhui o Hawaiʻi!Dartmouth Anthropological Film: ʻAʻa i ka hula , directed by Amedee Conley-Kapoi. ʻAʻa i ka hula follows the Merrie Monarch journey and preparation as a hula dancer. There is much more to this ancient practice than just flower crowns, swaying of the hips, and lovely hula hands. Hula encompasses many values and lessons within life.

Works Cited

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2022,www.nationalgeographic.com/history/article/the-surprising-history-of-hawaiis-hula-tradition.

Stuever, Hank. "The Hula Heritage." The Washington Post, 23 June 1989, www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/1989/06/24/the-hula-heritage/30b13fe4-9183-4d7b-aba4-cc70149dabd0/.Department of Native Hawaiian Health. "Metabolic Equivalent Determination in the Cultural

Dance of Hula." National Library of Medicine, 7 Nov. 2013,www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4087029/.

Dolim, Noah. "Misperceptions of the 'Hula Girl.'" University of Hawaiʻi at Hilo, 2014, hilo.hawaii.edu/campuscenter/hohonu/volumes/documents/MisperceptionsoftheHulaGirlNoahDolim.pdf.

Lee, Miya. "Preserving Hula, the Heartbeat of Hawaii." The New York Times, 7 May 2023,www.nytimes.com/2023/05/07/style/hawaii-merrie-monarch-festival-hula.html.

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College, 7 July 2020,hawaii.hawaii.edu/sustainability/article/2020-07-07-hula-as-a-sustainable-practice.

Tischendorf, Anne-Kristine. "Hula: Past and Present, Local and Global." Huna International,2005, www.huna.org/html/a-khula.html.

Martin, Kalikoaloha. "Edith Kanakaʻole Ka Uluwehi o Ke Kai." Kealopiko, kealopiko.shorthandstories.com/EdithKanakaole/index.html.

ʻĀina Momona. "5 major events of the 1970s Hawaiian Renaissance Movement." ʻĀina Momona, 27 Sept. 2021,

www.kaainamomona.org/post/5-major-events-of-the-1970s-hawaiian-renaissance-movement#:~:text=In%20the%201970s%2C%20the%20Hawaiian,sparked%20new%20pride%20amongst%20Hawaiians.

ʻAʻa i ka hula. Directed by Amedee Conley-Kapoi, produced by Meredith Ferguson and Zaneta Thayer, Darmouth Departments of Anthropology & Native American and Indigenous Studies, 2024.