Music Scene
Reichel never forgets his local roots
By Wayne Harada
Advertiser Entertainment Editor
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| Hawai'i entertainer Keali'i Reichel has turned to other people's music to tend to the wounds of the Sept. 11 attacks. He says he didn't write his own song because he needed some time to gain perspective and inspiration from life after the tragedy.
Keali'i Reichel Part of the Hana Hou series 8 p.m. today and Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday Hawai'i Theatre $30 (discounts for students, seniors, military, Hawai'i Theatre members) 528-0506 Coming up: Jan. 11 — The Makaha Sons Feb. 8 — "Hapa Haole Hou!" with Tony Conjugacion March 8 — The Brothers Cazimero April 12 — "Tribute to Hawaiian Musical Treasures," with Amy Hanaiali'i Gilliom May 17 — Ho'okena |
So while he has been on the world music charts on the Mainland and has performed at Carnegie Hall, he frowns at promoting his albums to a national audience. His focus is Hawai'i, plain and simple.
"Our first priority is here, whether traditional or contemporary Hawaiian or a combination of both," said the Maui-based singer, composer, kumu hula, chanter and Hawaiian scholar performing tonight through Sunday in the Hana Hou series at the Hawai'i Theatre.
"Most of the songs we sing, we sing in the Hawaiian language. While there is some growing popularity of Hawaiian-language music on the Mainland (currently, two CDs are on the world charts — Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's "Alone in Iz World" and Willie K's "Awihilima: Reflections"), it's still alien to a lot of people outside of Hawai'i. The big thing is, some of the Mainland people who boost Hawaiian music still don't know what to do with it or how to categorize it."
Indeed, Reichel embraces Hawaiian tunes, performs chants, personalizes other people's hits in English to suit his style and bears the cultural component of hula, too. All this makes him difficult to pigeon-hole. Even his looks — long hair, body tattoos, on-stage dress ranging from Armani to kihei (a cape) — yield confusion.
His foundation is dance and chant, which created the opportunity to sing and hit the road. To Japan, to the Mainland. But Hawai'i remains foremost in his agenda. He's not being provincial; it's his experience-based choice.
His sell-out Kukahi shows, staged annually on Maui, bypassed Honolulu last year, partly because of personal turmoil. His grandmother, Kamaiale Kane, died Oct. 3, 2000, putting a damper on his creativity.
With the exception of the magnitude of the tragedies of Sept. 11, "it's pretty devastating when you have a passing in your family," Reichel said. "Especially if that person is the catalyst in all that you do, as our grandma was. She was the center of our universe. We did things for her, our family revolved around her. Relationships in our hearts change; the catalyst is gone, so we've been thinking and sorting out and pulling together. 'Ohana is the No. 1 priority in my life. This will be the first Kukahi on O'ahu that she's not there, so we'll honor her twice, once in the beginning, once in the end."
At the time of this interview, Reichel was preparing for an aha 'aina waimaka, a feast of tears, to mark the first anniversary of the death, a milestone in "a year that was really junk."
"If we have a theme, it's probably kupuna/'aumakua/'ohana, because you cannot leave anyone out," he said of elders, gods and demi-gods and family influencing his on-stage conduct.
"There will also be a good portion of songs that are somewhat autobiographical," he said.
While his fans have found some comfort in Reichel's music, to tend to the wounds of Sept. 11, he said, he has also depended on tunes in his own healing. "I'm flattered and honored that the people love my music, but I turn to other people's songs for relief. And I take walks to the mountains and to the oceans.
"For me, Sept. 11 had such a magnitude ... my brain couldn't fathom it," Reichel said. "On that day, and in days afterward, my first inclination was to go out and buy one case Spam, 100 pounds of rice, to keep life in check. Part of the reason, I think, was the images shown on TV. So numbing. I was devastated. The sadness, those lives lost ... to me it's all 'eha (painful).
"I thought about writing a song, but I resisted the urge to do something like that. A lot of my compositions are personal. I think I need to wait, till there's perspective, some inspiration from life after the tragedy."
He knows it's a time for introspection, and that folks grieve and recover in different ways, to different drumbeats. And he's no different.
"The important thing is something I've been preaching all along. Tell the one you love that you love them. If somebody is gone, you can't express that love," he said. "You have to do it now and do it often."
A change of pace helps. A concert is a relaxer. A hug to a loved one is better.
Reichel has been one of contemporary Hawai'i's top recording artists and a multi-Na Hoku Hanohano Award winner, expanding his prowess to the concert stage. He appears with his own 'ohana, but also headlines with the Honolulu Symphony and guest-stars with others.
He also has begun a new album, but is not on a fast track to get it completed. "It's been a slow process," he sighed. "I'm still at the beginning, baby-steps stage, laying down basic tracks. When pau, pau."
The halau is another matter. "We've been reorganizing, slowly but surely. In my dotage, I feel I really need more time to focus on the one thing that keeps me grounded, and that's the halau 'ohana. My roots, really, because the singing came because of that (hula) background. Had that foundation not been there, the singing would not have happened. For myself, while I've enjoyed the singing career, which has provided some financial security, the bottom line is halau. And dance."
Not surprisingly, he is involving about 35 dancers to augment his vocal performance: "This is my family."
