7. Papa: The Rhythms
After Tānemahuta had clothed his parents with such awesome cloaks that even the Gods marvelled at them, he still felt something was missing, something he had been seeking through all his creating. This was the creation of god-like beings, which eluded him until he took advice from his mother, Papatūāuenuku. She directed him to the special place, Te One ki Kurawaka. Here Tānemahuta moulded the first woman, Hine ahu one, from the sacred clays of Mother Earth and then he breathed his own breath into her to give her life. He took her as his wife and their daughter, Hine Tītama, became the first mortal. Because our origins are in the earth, our heartbeats are like echoes of Mother Earth’s heartbeats. Similarly, the rhythms of music are the vitality of its being. The largest instruments are part of the body of Papa; they are those special places of echoes and other sound-enhancing phenomena.
Tumutumu
Tumutumu are ancient instruments that were played to set the rhythm for the chanting of invocations and other recitals. Rhythms provide an aid for remembering the many long recitals of history and ritual that are an essential part of maintaining tradition in a culture with no written language. Often these tumutumu were a piece of hard resonating stone like pākohe (argillite), kept as they were created by nature. Sometimes they were carefully and patiently shaped plates of pounamu (greenstone). Others, again, were resonant pieces of heartwood. A tumutumu was matched with a beater of stone, bone or hardwood, which brought out its best sound. Pairing up tumutumu and beater to achieve the sound required for different compositions becomes a fascinating exploration of the acoustic properties of natural materials.
Pahū
Pahū are large signalling drums created from logs or thick planks. Although they were often recorded as war gongs, they were also used to create a call of peace, which is the closest reference to their being used as rhythmic instruments. No large ones seem to have survived, but records state that some were created with a scooped out groove in the centre; others had a slot right through them. Some were rectangular; others tapered at the ends like a canoe.
Poutini, a pounamu tumutumu pahū by Clem Mellish with its whalebone striker.
A small pahū (730 mm long) from Ngai Tūhoe, Collection of the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa (Ref. No. ME000466).
They ranged in length from less than 1 metre up to 9 metres and were suspended at the ends above a high platform. A slab one was recorded as being 9 metres long, 600–900 mm wide and 150 mm thick. Pahū were made from tōtara, porokaiwhiria (pigeonwood) or mataī and struck with a hardwood striker of maire.
The striking was done in the opened out centre and their booming was said to be heard over 30 kilometres away in good conditions.
Several pahū have been made in recent years and it was a special experience for a group of us at a Ngā Puna Waihanga hui at Omaka Marae in 1995 to see one being partially carved with a tōki pākohe, or argillite stone adze. This tool was skilfully crafted by Dante Bonica on site from a rock taken from the river just days before. I had never expected to see a stone adze being made by the old processes, let alone being used, so the ancient sound made by that pahū imprinted itself on my memory for life.
Sometimes living variants of the pahū were made by cutting long 6–9 metre tongues on one side of hollow trees. These had a variable note depending on how far up they were struck. Some of these trees are still known by name and reputation.
Tōkere
Tōkere were castanets made of wood, bone, or a pair of bivalve shells. From an early description of them being played, with a pair held in each hand, the implication is that they were probably hinged in some way. Very little has been recorded of them but when we made a trial pair and showed them on a visit to Kahungunu kaumātua they were immediately and enthusiastically accepted by the late Ada Haig who performed a song with them.
An amusing illustration of just how new uses are found for unused traditions was relayed to us by an elderly woman who recalled tōkere made from the heavy end of the flax leaf. She said that they later made good clappers to chase the chooks out of the garden.
Toroa Tau Whalebone tōkere carved in an ancient style and representing a pair of albatrosses. These birds greet each other with beak clapping which sounds like a tōkere rhythm.
Poi
Poi is an ancient dance form that comes under the tutelage of Hine te iwaiwa, the principal Goddess of Women’s Arts. As the wife of Tinirau, she led the entertainment group that brought the wicked Kae back to face justice. Tinirau’s sisters, Raukatauri and Raukatamea, who were specialists in their own fields of the entertainment arts, also feature here.
The great chief, Tinirau, called on the services of the famed tohunga, Kae, to perform the rites to bless his son. Afterwards Kae prevailed on Tinirau to lend him his pet whale Tutunui to ride back home on. Reluctantly Tinirau agreed but when Tutunui did not return and the faint but distinctively sweet smell of cooking whalemeat was noticed they knew what had happened.
In due time a plan was hatched to exact revenge for that terrible deed. In order to allay suspicions a party consisting of women only was sent as travelling entertainers. They had not met Kae but knew that he had broken teeth. So they set about making people laugh in order to find him without asking his identity. The troupe went from place to place until they arrived at Kae’s village. Here they went through an extensive repertoire of singing, poi dancing, top spinning, mime with string games and puppets, and music performances that included the use of nearly all the instruments covered by this book. However the ever-suspicious and wily Kae kept a straight and unsmiling face until the lascivious words and gestures of a suggestive haka made him drop his guard, and in his laughing he showed his broken teeth with shreds of whalemeat still attached.
After all that everyone lay down and the women performed a special charm to put them into a deep sleep. They were not fooled by the paua circles Kae had placed on his eyelids to make it look as if he was awake.
So, in the depths of the night they took the still sleeping Kae and paddled back home with him, where revenge was finally taken.
The most intricate rhythmic instruments of the Māori are the poi, balls that are swung on a cord and used to create stunning visual and sound effects. The sound of a group of poi slapping into hands in unison or hitting other body parts for a different effect is a truly stirring rhythmic experience. Along with the graceful movements and bodily gestures of the dancers, which are usually interpretations of the words of the chant, they create a uniquely expressive dance form. The stamping of feet and the swishing of flax skirts or piupiu usually accompany poi and these create other uniquely Māori rhythms.
Different dances require different poi so there are ones with long cords of almost 2 metres and some with short cords of only 250 mm. Experts can swing four poi all moving differently at the same time.
The materials and the construction methods used in making poi affect the sounds they make on contact and the way they swing. Most old accounts describe poi as made from raupō or flax leaves and stuffed with the downy raupō seeds.
Sometimes they were in a woven cover made with dressed and dyed flax fibre which created beautiful and intricate patterns. Their strings were made from plaited flax fibre and special poi were decorated with dog hair. Southern informants stated that the earliest poi had no strings and were thrown between rows of performers.(15)
Today’s performers still use old methods to make poi for special occasions but often more durable or more colourful materials are substituted. Many performers prefer to make their own poi and so have them personalised to suit. Fortunately this tradition did not suffer the decline that other instruments went through and several books devoted to the subject, such as The Rhythm and Life of Poi, (16) have been published.
Poi made by Dolly Gardiner-Paul from the swamp reed, raupō, with dressed flax or muka cords.
An Extract from a Poi Song
Ko te tangi o waku poi
Ko te patu o taku manawa
E ihi ake nei
Mai i te puna e
O te aroha
Patupatu ana
Hotuhotu ana
Taku manawa
Patupatu, pā
Hotuhotu, hō
E...i...e.
The beat of my poi
is like the beat of my heart
brimming with excitement
from the source
of love
So it beats!
So it sobs!
My heart
beating
sobbing
E...i...e.
- From a song by Hirini Melbourne (17)
Pākuru
A pākuru made of black maire and its albatross wing bone striker. The pākuru was named Rāpō because the striker that suited it best was hollow and its opposite in colour.
These were one of the instruments played to accompany a haka by the sisters of Tinirau when they went to find Kae, the killer of Tinirau’s pet whale, Tūtunui. Pākuru are long resonant rods held between the teeth and rhythmically tapped while being sung over. They are an intriguing instrument whose simplicity belies their performance intricacies, which are, as yet, not fully known. There are several descriptions of the player holding and tapping the pākuru while also dancing and singing. Sometimes a pākuru was just a springy rod of tanguru (tree daisy) or a similar resonant, flexible twig. This was held between the teeth and tensioned by bending, while being tapped as the player danced and ‘breathed the words of a song or chorus upon the wood, causing the most pleasing vibrations or waves of sounds’. (18)
Other variations were more rigid, such as a 300–400 mm shaped and carved piece of mataī or porokaiwhiria (pigeonwood), flat on one side and convex on the other. This, too, was held between the teeth. The opening and closing of the lips while tapping with a hardwood rod, such as maire, created subtle variations of timbre in the accompanying rhythm.
Another pākuru was described as a carved rectangular bar about 450 mm long. ‘It is held lightly between the fingers of one hand and struck with a small carved mallet while words are breathed on it.’ (19)
Around 1870 Captain Gilbert Mair noted that pākuru were performed by ‘a number of skilled performers, standing in a row, their swaying bodies and little tapping mallets keeping the most perfect unisons. Now rising shrill, or dying away in the mournful cadence of some love song, the effect is remarkably melodious and pleasing.’ Other observations also mention it being played by a group and with ‘young women joining in the chorus’. (20)
A rather different South Island instrument, also called a pākuru, was described as being made from a thick hollowed stem of tuturākau around 1 metre long and plugged at each end. It was more like a drum and was played either with a 600 mm wooden beater or a softer one made of aruhe (pigfern stalk), shark skin or whītau (rolled flax).
Tutunui, a southern pākuru made from a thick stem of tuturākau with its pithy centre hollowed out. The end is resealed with a carving of whale ivory. Beside it lies its beater of whītau, which is flax dressed in a way that keeps it quite stiff
An Old Song for the Pākururu
Whakarongo mai taku hine,
Ki te tangi pai o taku pākuru.
Tāoro haere ana ki
Pari-kārangaranga,
Hei kawe atu i te aroha,
Rere tōmairangi i runga o te rau,
Tīorooro ana ki runga puke,
Hei waho i to moe,
E te hoa whakaipo e – i
Listen now my lady love,
To my sweet-sounding pākuru,
Sending forth its melody,
In echoing cliffs resounding,
Breathing forth my love to you,
Sounding from hill and dale,
Arousing from sweet sleep
She who fills my nightly dreams. (21)
