Huilua takes its name from an ancient fishpond that sits in Kahana Bay on the windward side of the island of ʻOahu. There, my great grandfather (Tutu Pua) resided as Konohiki. To my ʻohana Huilua would become the site of immense tragedy, mystique and fond remembrance. For dad, Huilua would insight curiosity.
If I have learned anything by being born into art, it would be that every piece of art created is a physical conversation between the artist and his deeper self, an attempt of the artist in circumventing himself and the world around him. For dad, this piece became a way to include others in this intimate conversation. With every strike of the mallet our ʻohanaʻs collective story had been exposed.
Saturated in kaona (dual meaning), Huilua shares the story of the passing of three of my dadʻs siblings in a tidal wave, it speaks of the moʻo (lizard) who guarded the pond and alludes to the resilience of a family who continues to persevere despite the seemingly unconquerable tragedies of that era and beyond.
As was customary amongst our kupuna, stories were recited verbally, never documented. This was the way dad would be introduced to Huilua and its famous tenant. Moʻo in Hawaiian lore were said to be primarily women. As such, they could be faintly compared to the seductive sirens of western moʻolelo (stories). Like their western counter part, they were territorial, and merciless in their pursuit of preserving their water rights. Moʻo were not beyond gory carnage and for that reason they were both feared but respected. Itʻs been said that the moʻo of Huilua, whose proper name has escaped with time, would come and go at her leisure through a private passage. Her presence was made known by the gentle fluttering of the kamani leaves that littered the surface of the pond as she surveyed her domain.
In this rendition dad chose to utilize milo wood. Rare, milo was commonly found along the shorelines of Hawaii and favored for its high contrast color. In ancient times it was seen as a catalyst allowing communication between the different realms relating specifically to the god Milu (underworld god).
Huilua, the piece, is an open invitation in communicating the different facets of intent. It begs its audience to explore the history of a place and its people, it persuades you to dabble in Hawaiʻi mysticism. Yet, the more you allow the conversation to broaden your understanding its painfully obvious the less you understand. Huilua is a visual cliffhanger.
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