George Na'ope, Master of Sacred Hula, Dies at 81
George Na’ope, whose mastery of the hula — the flowing, pantomimic dance of Hawaii — and its lilting chants made him a last link between an ancient ritual and modern entertainment, died on Oct. 26 at his home in Hilo, Hawaii. He was 81.
The cause was lung disease, said Iwalani Kalima, his student and caretaker for more than 40 years.
Known as Uncle George to thousands of fans, the diminutive Mr. Na’ope (he stood barely five feet tall and weighed less than 100 pounds) was considered a hula lo’ea, or hula master, according to Maile Loo, executive director of the Hula Preservation Society in Kaneohe, Hawaii.
“We view him as the last of the great masters who spent their life training and teaching hula,” Ms. Loo said in an interview on Tuesday. “His reach around the world is unmatched.”
For more than 60 years Mr. Na’ope (pronounced na-OH-peh) taught hula and chanting in Europe, South America, Australia, Japan and in the continental United States. Although he had a long career performing the more modern mode of the dance, even comic versions, his greater role was in inspiring native Hawaiians to revive their sacred dance.
In 1964 Mr. Na’ope was a founder of the Merrie Monarch Festival, a weeklong event held each spring in Hilo celebrating traditional Hawaiian art, crafts, music and dance. The festival has achieved worldwide recognition for its contributions to history and culture. A highlight of the week is a three-day hula competition. Mr. Na’ope would often appear in a broad-brimmed hat adorned with long feathers and silk tropical foliage, gold medallions around his neck and oversized rings on each of his fingers.
Unlike some Polynesian dances, the hula began as a form of worship, evolving into a form of entertainment only in the 20th century. Every body movement or hand gesture had a specific meaning. A movement might represent a particular plant or animal, symbolize war or peace. In imitating a shark or waving palm tree, the true hula dancer believed that he or she had become the shark or palm.
“The old style is accompanied by a chant, our version of a song that tells a story,” Ms. Loo said. “Because we had no written language, everything was preserved through the chants: our history, our values, the stories of our leaders; thousands of lines of poetry.”
Modern hula — often accompanied by ukulele, steel guitars or piano — usually does not involve chanting. “In sacred hula you use hollowed gourds, drums made from trunks of coconut trees with a shark skin over the top; water-worn pebbles that are clicked together,” Ms. Loo said.
Through his workshops, concerts and the festival, Mr. Na’ope sought to revive tradition...
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The cause was lung disease, said Iwalani Kalima, his student and caretaker for more than 40 years.
Known as Uncle George to thousands of fans, the diminutive Mr. Na’ope (he stood barely five feet tall and weighed less than 100 pounds) was considered a hula lo’ea, or hula master, according to Maile Loo, executive director of the Hula Preservation Society in Kaneohe, Hawaii.
“We view him as the last of the great masters who spent their life training and teaching hula,” Ms. Loo said in an interview on Tuesday. “His reach around the world is unmatched.”
For more than 60 years Mr. Na’ope (pronounced na-OH-peh) taught hula and chanting in Europe, South America, Australia, Japan and in the continental United States. Although he had a long career performing the more modern mode of the dance, even comic versions, his greater role was in inspiring native Hawaiians to revive their sacred dance.
In 1964 Mr. Na’ope was a founder of the Merrie Monarch Festival, a weeklong event held each spring in Hilo celebrating traditional Hawaiian art, crafts, music and dance. The festival has achieved worldwide recognition for its contributions to history and culture. A highlight of the week is a three-day hula competition. Mr. Na’ope would often appear in a broad-brimmed hat adorned with long feathers and silk tropical foliage, gold medallions around his neck and oversized rings on each of his fingers.
Unlike some Polynesian dances, the hula began as a form of worship, evolving into a form of entertainment only in the 20th century. Every body movement or hand gesture had a specific meaning. A movement might represent a particular plant or animal, symbolize war or peace. In imitating a shark or waving palm tree, the true hula dancer believed that he or she had become the shark or palm.
“The old style is accompanied by a chant, our version of a song that tells a story,” Ms. Loo said. “Because we had no written language, everything was preserved through the chants: our history, our values, the stories of our leaders; thousands of lines of poetry.”
Modern hula — often accompanied by ukulele, steel guitars or piano — usually does not involve chanting. “In sacred hula you use hollowed gourds, drums made from trunks of coconut trees with a shark skin over the top; water-worn pebbles that are clicked together,” Ms. Loo said.
Through his workshops, concerts and the festival, Mr. Na’ope sought to revive tradition...