It's amazing how a revolution can happen right under your nose and you don't recognize it. The revolution is taking place in Hawaiian music. It's the fusion of the television camera, the slack-key guitar, the voice and the hula into a new genre.

The best examples are seen on PBS Hawaii's "Na Mele" and on OC16's "Hawaiian Classics" hosted by Bernadette Baraquio. They're among my favorite programs.

But it wasn't until I caught a rerun of a performance by Keola, Moanalani and Nona Beamer on "Na Mele" that, for some reason, it all clicked. I began to recognize the elements that make it work. And to put these shows into their proper perspective in the history of Hawaiian music.

We begin, of course, with ancient chants and the sacred hula. Then came missionary hymns that introduced harmony, followed by Henry Berger and melodies that we call Hawaiian classics today. Pretty soon, Hawaiian troubadours were performing at world's fairs in Chicago and in Buffalo, N.Y., and on the vaudeville circuit.

Hawaiian music took to the stage. For years it was a nightclub stage. Finally, we come to the television camera. For a long time, the camera tried to imitate the stage. But with "Na Mele" and "Hawaiian Classics," the camera has freed itself from the stage to become the stage.

Once more we are back to the intimacy of a backyard lu'au that makes Hawaiian music so much fun. It's why the most successful shows are those where the performers play around with the music, improvise, kid each other. Remember that show with Mahi Beamer, Robert Cazimero and Nina Keali'iwahamana? They took turns singing, playing the piano and doing the hula, all three of them.

For me, the performance that best exhibits the new genre is that one with the three Beamers — Auntie Nona and Keola and his wife, Moanalani. The show breaks ground that indicates this genre has a future. It opens with Nona, the storyteller, explaining that her son, Keola, kept a journal but discovered that he couldn't say what he wanted with words, so he turned to music.

At first, I thought that was just a way to introduce the show. Gradually, her meaning unfolded as Keola sang his songs. Not old standards like "Hi'ilawe" but things I'd never heard before. Some of it sounded like improvisation. How refreshing.

It wasn't only the music that unfolded, or the dance. The camera was as much a part of the show as all the other elements. For example, Keola has long, expressive fingers. They pick the guitar strings in a way that evokes a woman dancing the hula. The camera caught that beautifully. Another shot brought dancer and singer into close intimacy, then Nona's face as she told a story. The camera brought everything into focus.

There's a feeling of spontaneity about the show. You feel that the songs were composed on the occasion. Some really cool things happened. The hula dancer and the singer harmonized on "It's a Beautiful World." Why don't more singers and hula dancers do that?

Nona told her stories. That's what hula is about, telling the story. It was all very Hawaiian, yet done in a universal language anybody can understand. It seems to me that what can be done with this genre is the future of Hawaiian music.

Reach Bob Krauss at 525-8073.