Ki Ho'alu Kid evolves into a full-fledged musician

Makana's latest CD offers an example of his growth as a performer. The CD experiments with influences derived from visits to Bali and Europe, and from people he's met. He also includes a larger dose of a newfound love: singing. Makana album cover

• 'Koi Au' engages in delightful variety

By Wayne Harada
Advertiser Entertainment Writer

At 24, he's outgrown his old nickname, The Ki Ho'alu Kid, since the vast range of what he sings and plays now goes well beyond his beginnings.

"It's not about getting airplay. It's all about following my heart," he said. "If I do that, I can't help but be successful."

Makana's second CD, "Koi Au," is being released today. He'll present his second Hawai'i Theatre concert Nov. 8 and 9.

About his name: He was born Matthew Swalinkavich. Makana is Hawaiian for gift or present; Matthew is Hebrew for gift from God.

•	Concert info 8 p.m. Nov. 8, 7:30 p.m. Nov. 9 Hawai'i Theatre $25, $35; $60 VIP ticket includes post-show reception at Indigo Eurasian Cuisine and an autographed CD. Also featured: Willie K, the Tau Dance Theatre with Peter Rockford Espiritu and Rachel Berman

Makana is derived from Makanakua, a name given him by his Pearl City High kumu hula. "That's the reason I feel pono (right, proper, correct), using the name Makana; my music is a gift, a constant reminder of the relationship of connecting with people through song," he said.

One quick listen to the CD — the title means "strong flowing current" and "eloquence" — reveals how eclectic and expressive Makana has become. He experiments with influences derived from visits to Bali and Europe, and from people he's met, including a noted Swiss harpist and composer. He's doing considerably more singing than in the past, in Hawaiian and in English. And he's soaking up inspiration from the Pacific Heights environs of 'Ihiuka, where an expansive home, tucked away near the clouds, became a simulated studio where "Koi Au" was recorded. 'Ihiuka, he said, means "a sacred or spiritual place in the mountain."

A rare Chinese instrument is featured on one cut, and a Portuguese song is part of the mix. Bluegrass riffs highlight a tune; African rhythms preside on another.

There's even an homage to a slack-key master, the late Sonny Chillingworth, with whom Makana studied.

"I guess you'd call it hybriding music," Makana said. "I don't have limitations inside of myself; I'm free to pull whatever a song requires to get a particular emotional feeling."

One of his incredible, life- and-art-changing experiences was meeting Andreas Vollenweider, the Swiss harpist, last year. "I played in one of his concerts in Bali and I stayed at his house in Stasa, Switzerland, right on Lake Zurich. He told me, 'When you're in Europe, come stay with me.' Turns out I was in Europe and spent time with him. He truly inspired me. He's been one of my favorite musicians, and he's a total renaissance musician, playing many instruments. There's a melodic nature to him; he's like an angel, really, not a regular person, and a very Old World musician who really inspires."

Makana conceived the new album while staying with a friend in Paris last year. "He had Gabby Pahinui, Kahauanu Lake Trio and other Hawaiian albums, and I got really homesick, wanting to go home and do a Hawaiian album," Makana said. "Or at least incorporate Hawaiian in whatever I was going to do."

It took seven months to complete the project last July.

It also galvanized his newfound love: singing.

"I think singing is a science, and I love it," he said. "It's a whole art form, with a technical side, coming from a spiritual place. My dream is to be a crooner; besides Tim Buckley, I adore Frank Sinatra, for his delivery, for his presence. Only now am I getting into the aspect of entertaining; I used to just sing. Entertainment is an art, and I'm loving that stuff."

Singing also has prodded him to write more personal lyrics. On "Maharina," in particular, he lets his hair down.

"It's real life, baby," he said about the tune, which deals with certain intimacies, in moonlight and in the kitchen. It's framed illogically but performed with a winning innocence. "I won't say much about it, except that it was a song written out of necessity, to deal with my own personal relationships and situations. If I can't talk about it, I write a song. When you put it to a melody and add words, you communicate in a powerful way, and sometimes it's a lot more meaningful than plain talking. ...

"The poetic form (of 'Maharina') is interesting; each line running into the next. I wasn't conscious at the time; the words and lyrics just came together. It's a song that breaks all the conventional rules, but there are no rules in this game for me."

Nor are there barriers affecting the sources of his ideas.

The Chinese gu-zheng for example: While in London, he found one in a catalog and ordered it. "When I got it, I had no idea how to play it, and I goofed around with it for a couple of days, till a song came out," Makana said. "The problem now is that I'm trying to relearn how to play it. I've forgotten. When I was in the creative mood, the process was so amazing."

The mission of the new album, he says, "is to make people outside of Hawai'i relate to the music with a little more ease. It's more world music now, my passion. I try to tap all the musical elements."

Lately, he's partnered with guitarist Barry Flanagan in gigs and in concerts. They respect each other's contributions to the scene.

Remarkably, he is also marking his 10th year performing Sunday nights at Duke's in Waikiki. "It enables my music to connect with the people," said Makana of the weekly songfest. "Otherwise, I've moved away from playing clubs. I don't make a lot of money, just enough to sustain, to release this record."

His beef: "The industry hasn't supported musicianship for so long, artists are turning into something else. I hope we can inspire young people to spend the time, the years it takes to develop the art form, beyond what the industry has become. More than half the stories written today about music are about deejays coming to town. Deejays? I can respect the art form of mixing different things, but the focus is unbalanced in the media. There's no feeling quite like having someone sing directly to you, creating music in front of you. My friend Pierre Grill (a veteran on the music scene) says something right on target about the evolution and de-evolution of music: 'We have come full circle. Music started out with the Neanderthal man, beating out a noise, without spoken word; we've come full circle, since everything now is beat-driven. Nursery-rhyme simple, no melody.' You can't get a song on the radio without a beat; my songs have no beat."

Makana is not bothered about being excluded. "It would bother me if I got a lot of airplay; no, it would worry me," he said. "My mission is to get my music out to as many as possible, so radio is a natural outlet, but I cannot compromise. I feel good about my music. I have financial and career goals. But I would just die if my music made it on radio."

'Koi Au' engages in delightful variety

Makana's second CD, "Koi Au" (Makana Music), sails through a wide spectrum of musical styles and languages, ranging from 'olelo Hawai'i to vocals in English, as well as one in Portuguese.

He skippers a journey through seas of quiet eloquence and dreamy landscapes.

He displays a gentle instrumental precision and pliable voice, which combine to accommodate a range of emotions.

"Dragon Throws Out Pearl," a wordless wonder, features the koto-like Chinese gu-zheng, yielding a far-away fantasy flavor.

"Bali Kamaha'o," which opens with street sounds and the chatter of voices, is an expression of his reflective side, the Hawaiian lyrics by Puakea Nogelmeier providing snapshots of a distant paradise in a different hemisphere.

Makana takes Willie K's "Koi," an instrumental inspired by the hardy fish, and makes a compelling three-part instrumental statement.

He tackles the King Kalakaua oldie, "E Nihi Ka Hele," reviving images of a Hawai'i of open seas and a spirit of cautious adventure. Cyril Pahinui's guitar work is prevalent; Pahinui and Malana collaborated on the soothing arrangement.

Makana's skillful and poignant cover of Jay Kauka's "Ka Wailele O Nu'uanu" evokes pictures of the dancing waterfalls of Nu'uanu — during wet weather, of course.

"Fado" demonstrates a troubadour's flair, with Makana vocalizing in Portuguese while strumming an atmospheric guitar.

"Maharina" is the find of the disc; personal, spirited, joyous and expressive of the playful nature of love. It's lyrically intriguing and musically inventive.