Maori Theatre

A man has just come out of prison. He has started working for a business selling firewood: his job is to fill sacks with pieces of manuka and pine. A younger man is with him in the shed, also filling sacks with firewood. Both are Maori. They are the only ones in the shed and are not in the mood to work. The older man begins to shadow box, throwing punches at his shadow cast by the bare light bulb against the wall.

He draws the younger man in, involving him in the shadow boxing. They begin to have fun with the shadows: first they invent a cops and robbers mime, howling and shooting at each other; then they mime an act of sodomy using the enlarged shadow of a broomstick for a penis. They continue the mime yelling four-letter words and making their shadows rape one another until they tire of it. They both laugh at the mimes they've just made and then go off for some kai.

This is a scene from the play Firewood by John Synott. It was hoped to have the play, or part of it, ready to perform in conjunction with an exhibition of contemporary Maori art being held at the Rotorua Art Gallery in May. The play would have been the first production of a new theatre which would involve Maori actors and writers from all over the country.

It seems, however, that the theatre will have to start somewhere else; that Rotorua just isn't ready for this kind of realism. Efforts to get this play produced have, after two months, gone unrewarded.

Rotorua has long had a Maori theatre, an art form unique to this country — the Maori concert party. Moreover it is the only original art form that NZ has produced. In an important book, Te Puea written by Michael King and published last year, we read how the concert party was invented by Princess Te Puea to instill a sense of pride in her Waikato people, a people badly demoralised by social and economic forces early in the century.

This art form was soon developed to a high degree, firstly by her own group who gave performances all over the country, and then by groups from other tribes. In the Second World War the concert party form of entertainment reached its apogee: the war drew on enormous resources of talent, drawing forth the best work of the finest Maori composers. No people felt the death and the loss more keenly or expressed their grief more eloquently in song.

What made the concert party so vital and gave it the strength to endure was the fusion of two traditions: the oral traditions of moteatea with their ancient cadence and themes, and the deeply felt borrowings from western popular music. Today most Maori communities have at least one concert or action party group, and each year concert party groups come together in the main centres to compete for trophies.

Yet despite its continuing popularity and its still-great strengths, the concert party art form is well and truly archaic. Perhaps even irrelevant. None of the songs, the lyrics or actions make any comment on the events of today — except possibly to disregard them, pretending that everything is O.K. Of course things are not: the Maori Land March in 1975 showed the whole world that some things were seriously wrong in this country and that some Maoris were attempting to put them right.

Whenua Maori has become the focal point for past and present grievances, and all problems affecting Maori people today can be seen to stem from the failure of government to acknowledge the importance of Maori lands for the tribes that own them. The crisis point has already been reached — perhaps with the emergence of the Otara Storm troopers at the end of the 1960's, perhaps with the shooting of Daniel Haupapa 3 years ago.

We need right now an art form that is equal to these times; one that runs and howls with the best of us, trying to articulate the pain of Maori men and women — young and old — and encouraging debate among Maoris themselves. A Maori theatre drawing on the untapped resources of Maori talent for actors and writers seems the best choice.

Like Te Puea's original concert party group this theatre would serve to strengthen a badly wounded culture, voicing the frustrations of the disillusioned old and the demoralised old, as well as reminding us all of life's joys and attractions. It would be a natural theatre speaking for all the tribes.

Such a theatre would need to begin strongly to free itself of the cobwebs of lethargy and apathy encumbering members of the Maori community. Like the haka of Ruaumoko we need to shake — to shock— ourselves out of complacency. Shock tactics for a society reluctant to confront change when it comes.

Today there are well-established theatres in Africa, Europe, North America and Australia whose sole aim is to present a minority cultural viewpoint. Maoris in this country must start thinking about a theatre of their own that does more than wiggle its piupiu in front of tourists.

Brian King

Save Unity Campaign

On the 23rd of April Unity Theatre is launching a "Save Unity Campaign" which will run till May 25. The aim of the campaign is to raise as quickly as possible $2,500 to put Unity back on its feet.

Unity will be launching the campaign with a "Save Unity" Party on April 23 at 7 p.m. to which all those interested in the future of Unity Theatre are invited. This is followed on May 6 & 7 by a revue, "A Night of It", starting at 8 o'clock; door sales only.

Following, on May 12, 13 and 14, is a marathon of marathons, a fifty-hour nonstop performance of Harold Pinter's The Dumb Waiter! Sponsors are welcome, and sponsorship forms are available from the Treasurer, Ph 787—776.

Unity Theatre was formed 37 years ago and has provided the city of Wellington with an opportunity for amateur casts to perform in many of the classics and in many many exciting new productions, at a professional standard. It is one of the few outlets for amateur theatre remaining in central Wellington, and as such provides a much-needed springboard for actors, actresses, directors, technicians, etc. to learn and polish the basics of their crafts.

If, as many people contend, theatre can and often does fulfil an important role in New Zealand culture, then it would be a loss for all should Unity cease to play its own unique part.

Ewen Upston