Dance Scene
Kumu hula decides to step back, reflect

By Vicki Viotti
Advertiser Staff Writer

Kaha'i Topolinski watches his hula class as granddaughter Kawena Hoopii, 6, looks on at Waiau Elementary School. Topolinski, at odds with some of the local hula community, plans a hiatus from hula. Jeff Widener • The Honolulu Advertiser 28th annual King Kamehameha Hula Competition 6 p.m. tonight and 1 p.m. Saturday Blaisdell Arena $7.25-$19 591-2211 (Ticket Plus, 526-4400)

Although disillusionment with trends in the hula world had driven him to thoughts of quitting teaching altogether, the kumu hula has opted merely to take a hiatus of six months to a year or so from his school, Ka Pa Hula Hawai'i, rather than disband it permanently.

Who changed his mind? Other kumu hula, in part.

"Pua Kanaka'ole said, 'You can't quit: We need to hear your voice,' " said Topolinski, 61, taking a break from rehearsals in his Waipi'o home. "And (chanter) Ka'upena Wong, who told me he always admired the grace of my women dancers and the male beauty of the men." That meant a lot to Topolinski.

And so he won't quit. Even the hiatus won't start until the halau has performed at this weekend's King Kamehameha Hula Competition. It seemed a fitting closing note, since the event had been his fledgling group's first competitive event, back in 1973.

He's not been quiet about his disenchantment. Calls to Hawaiian music radio stations have illuminated some of the disputes over elements of his teaching style being appropriated by others, or over the legitimacy of his artistic choices in public venues such as the televised Merrie Monarch Festival hula competition.

The 1997 Merrie Monarch entry seems particularly vexing to Topolinski, who prides himself on documenting the historical basis for steps that he teaches or costuming he designs. That year, the men of Ka Pa Hula Hawai'i performed a mele with movements, particularly one called the 'ami 'opu, that were sexually suggestive. The judges, he said, skunked him, indicating that they found the move inappropriate.

"We got zero," Topolinski said. "We were below the guys from California.

"But these things I've researched," he added. "The 'ami 'opu is listed at Bishop Museum."

Criticism from within the Hawaiian community stung him most painfully; those who deem what he says are legitimate elements of hula to be inappropriate are doing a disservice to the art, he said.

"They have sanitized the hula," he said. "I say, 'You're worse than the missionaries, because you're of the blood.

"I felt I made a statement."

Topolinski hates what he considers the feminizing of male hula, with very few hula schools exploring the virile aspects that are evocative of other Pacific cultures.

Additionally, there have been causes for true grief. For example, last year's murder of his star pupil, Harbin "Dickie" Mosier, in a domestic dispute sent Topolinski's spirits plummeting.

He will first be true to his tradition of reviving the lesser-known facets of hula at competition this weekend. His men will perform a hula kahiko with the unlikely title "Ala Ga Haga." It's a hula kake, a "garbled" chant in which the text is disguised for amusement and intrigue.

And then he will retire to his studies, to those echoes from the past, to reflection on his future. He may teach one or two students privately. Perhaps he will reopen the halau in its present form, perhaps as a more intimate group.

But he will be back.

"We have had our influences," he said. "It would be unfair for me to say, 'pau.' "