Culture connection
• | Polyfantastica |
| ‘Polyfantastica’: The story so far |
By Lesa Griffith
Assistant Features Editor
As lingering surfers caught their last waves in Kahalu'u Bay, on shore at the Outrigger Keauhou Beach Resort's Kamaaina Terrace restaurant, two Hawaiian artists met for the first time. And though almost 50 years and different painting styles separate the venerated Herb Kane and the emerging Solomon Enos, they share a deep feeling for Hawaiian culture and, of course, the power of art.
The matchmaker was Marylou Foley. The communications director for Outrigger Hotels, she's famous for connecting the dots between people. Foley has also made it her personal mission to integrate Hawaiian culture with Outrigger properties.
When Foley found out Enos, whose Polynesian-themed "Polyfantastica" runs each Sunday in The Advertiser, and his business partner, Daniel Anthony, would be on the Big Island manning an art booth at the Merrie Monarch Festival, her brain started clicking. She asked if Enos would hold a mural-painting session with local children at the Outrigger Keauhou.
Enos and Anthony gladly accepted the invitation. Anthony mentioned that they had always wanted to meet Herb Kane, the author, painter and muralist who has captivated viewers worldwide with his dynamic representations of Native Hawaiian life.
Kane and his wife, Deon, live in a house overlooking Kealekekua Bay and the City of Refuge — an apropos setting for someone who has brought Hawaiian history alive for thousands of people through his murals and work for National Geographic.
A few weeks later, on April 7, the two men sat across from each other.
"Your work is the foundation of so much," Enos said to Kane.
"Tell me about your comic," said Kane. It seemed to be the start of a beautiful friendship.
A CANDLE AND A BONFIRE
Kane, who keeps a low profile on the island, and rarely ventures to Honolulu these days ("The Big Island embraces me; that's one of the reasons I don't go to Hono-lulu anymore"), was at ease at the Outrigger. Tall, with a contained, serene air, he explained that for three years in the 1980s he had a studio in the hotel "on the fifth floor, with a view of Kahalu'u Bay." He was working on a series of projects, including "The Death of Captain Cook" and living down the road, and Henry Walker, the chairman of Amfac, "wanted to keep an eye on me," he said, laughing.
For the cultural center, "I always wanted to do a series of portraits of people who had trades and professions in the old society — not just the chiefs," said Kane.
"The maka'ainana," said Solomon, leaning intently over the table, hanging on Kane's every word. Kane nodded.
"They built a room for the paintings," added Deon Kane.
Enos talked about growing up in Wai'anae, working in the family's taro lo'i and his dream of creating a community arts center and garden in every ahupua'a.
"The work you've done has put it all on the table," he said to Kane. Enos believes that artists' work can "help re-invent how we see."
Kane, who has a Web site and is reportedly a prolific e-mailer, was energized by Enos' animated description of his Polyfantastica project, how it's "Tolkien meets (David) Malo," how "we live in an age of pictures," and how Enos wants to expose young people to Hawaiian culture through their language and medium.
Kane nodded, smiling, at the ideas and concepts. At 78, he's keenly attuned to the possibilities of technology.
Enos referenced a Hawaiian myth and Kane immediately got it and chuckled.
As dinner wound down, Anthony presented the Kanes with a giclee print of Hi'iakaikapoliopele, a painting Enos did for Puakea Nogelmeier's forthcoming book on Pele's sister.
"I feel like a candle compared to a bonfire," said Enos, as Kane accepted the gift.
'NO-FEAR ART' WITH KIDS
The next morning, Enos and Anthony were up early to set up for the mural painting. On the lawn in front of the hotel, under a massive monkeypod tree, they set up a 4-by-8-foot canvas, and laid out paintbrushes, paper poi bowls for palettes, paper towels, and big plastic jars of acrylic paints in primary colors.
An ad for the event had been placed in the West Hawai'i newspaper, and kids started trickling in at 9:10 a.m. as Enos started sketching on the canvas, outlining a figure in the center.
As a handful of children gathered 'round, he introduced himself and explained they would be painting Mo'oiananea — the lizard goddess. But she didn't have to have a tail and and walk on all fours. "You can show that she's a mo'o through the way the kapa flows around her and the way the wind blows her hair," said Enos. "She is a part of us right now. Mo'o — sometimes it means lizard; sometimes they're the good guys, sometimes they're the bad guys."
He gave a quick primer on proportion and asked kids to start adding color to his rough sketch of a powerful woman surrounded by smaller figures.
"The whole idea is the land itself is a person," he said as the budding artists got to work. And the words worked — no one did fleshtone-goes-on-skin-blue-goes-on-sky robo-painting.
"I wanna make more green," said Jamin Huet, a second-grader at Kahakai Elementary School, who quickly became Enos' shadow. He tackled the background with a deep forest green he mixed himself.
Hesitant strokes became more confident as Enos urged, "Go for it."
"He has so much positive energy," said Selene Miyasato, a teacher at Kahakai, as she watched her students, after dabbling a little herself. "The knowledge that he has ..."
"It's fun just to watch things happen," said Enos, giving license to the painters to let loose, calling the exercise "no-fear art."
Foley had asked executive chef William Trask to prepare a spread of steamed taro and sweet potato, which were laid out on silver trays. Kids filled cups from a cooler of mamaki tea.
Bigger kids helped smaller ones add paint to their palettes. A tiny girl, Mei Bynum, 5, visiting from Grosse Ile, Mich., obliterated a corner of the canvas with orange, and everyone exclaimed, "That's great!"
As the session wound down, everyone sat in a half-circle. Enos dipped a napkin in water and pressed it hard on the canvas, rubbing like sandpaper, pulling the areas, colors and strokes together with a wash.
He stepped back to look at the swirls of greens and blues, random starlike clusters, figures seeming to emerge from clouds, and said, "There's a rawness. I like that. ... This is the kind of work that gets me excited. It's what I would hang in my house."
TO PASS THE BRUSH
All that day Enos continued to think about his meeting with Kane.
"The things he was expressing were really meaningful to me," he said.
Back in Honolulu the next week, Foley received an e-mail from Kane. The revered artist made a generous gesture, recognizing Enos.
"Ever since I first saw some of Solomon's work I have been wanting to meet him, and now I can thank you for the opportunity," Kane wrote. "I want to help him in any way I can.
"Now 78, I would be happy to metaphorically pass the brush to someone with the same ancestry."
Reach Lesa Griffith at lgriffith@honoluluadvertiser.com.