Tāne
FATHER OF MANY Songmakers
Tānemahuta, one of the children of Rangi and Papa, was responsible for first separating his parents. He then assumed the task of clothing them in beauty as befitted their great status. To make a marvellous night cloak for Rangi he took the peaceful tribe of Tama Rēreti up to the heavens in their waka, the canoe Uruao. There they were given immortality as a reward for their conduct and they still adorn the night sky wonderfully. At night we can see their waka Uruao anchored up there. It is also known as the constellation Scorpio and it can be located by following the line of the anchor rope, the Pointers. These point the other way to the anchor stone, which we know as Mahutonga, the Southern Cross.
Tāne then worked to clothe Papa. He mated with a number of female deities who produced all the different varieties of plants and trees. He was not pleased, however, when the plants began moving around and ruining his design so he was forced to secure them by putting them upside down so that their hair became rooted in the ground and their limbs waved in the wind. He continued mating with other female deities to produce the birds which add colour and sound to his creation.
With no predatory mammals, primal Aotearoa was a kingdom of birds, many of them singers whose dawn and evening choruses still leave an indelible impression on most listeners. The bodies for many of the other instrument families come from the tree children of Tāne, whose wood and leaves are used to produce a large variety of sounds.
Karanga Manu
Karanga manu or kōauau pūtangitangi are calling flutes. The bird calls they imitate were brought back to life when Richard found a flute carved from stone in the collection of the then Dominion Museum of New Zealand, now Te Papa Tongarewa. It was a slender piece of stone with a cupped hole in one end. Later the use of these instruments was verified by Mauri Tirikātene when talking with stone carver Clem Mellish. He said, ‘originally, the purpose of these tiny flutes was to lure birds by mimicking their own calls, sometimes to bring them into the hunter’s range for easy capture. By placing the pursed lips at the correct angle to the mouthpiece, the player is able to mimic several kinds of bird calls. As an added attraction a karanga manu can be worn as a very special ethnic pendant.’ Today these little flutes can create interesting and humorous responses from garden birds and forest dwellers alike, and inspired by these beautiful sounds you can create your own bird songs.
The beauty of the pounamu complemented by Clem Mellish’s masterful crafting makes this karanga manu an attractive and useful ethnic pendant.
Karanga Weka
In the Hall of Mankind at the British Museum lies a small soapstone carving shaped like a nguru but with only the one finger hole at its upturned end. It was a great surprise when I put this to my lips and heard the distinctive bird call of the weka, a cheeky echo far from home. Replicas of that lone remnant have since revealed that karanga weka can also be played as melodic instruments or used to add the weka’s vocal colour to a song like the one below.
That original karanga weka is 55 mm long with a bore tapering steeply in from 23 mm. It has just one 8 mm finger hole tapering inward from the upturn. By flicking the finger off this hole while blowing, the call of the weka is produced. To communicate with weka the dimensions may need to be changed to suit local conditions as trials show that these birds have dialects that require different pitches of instruments in order to elicit a response.
A Song About The Cheeky Weka
Karanga wekaweka
Karanga wekaweka
Wekaweka whakatoi
Wekaweka whakatoi
Wekaweka híkoi
Poutoti toitoi
Timotimo toro haere e.
Hirini Melbourne* @
Cheeky weka
Cocky weka
Wacky weka
Strutting on stilts.
Te Mōrehu is a soapstone replica of the only known karanga weka, which is held in the British Museum, London.
TuarŌria
Tuarōria are leaves folded and blown through to become singing leaves. Their primary use may have been to imitate bird calls in order to attract them closer. However, since bird songs are an integral part of the origins of the Taonga Pūoro repertoire, the sounds of the tuarōria are an appropriate embellishment.
Karamu or taupata leaves (both coprosma species) are widely available and good to use but it is worthwhile trying others to find your own favourites. Gently fold around the centre rib. Hold near the stem end between one thumb and finger and near the other end with the other thumb and a finger. This will create a tunnel by the stem to blow into and also allow you to vary the tension at the sounding lips of the leaf’s sides which then alters the pitch.
Some waxy-surfaced leaves with parallel veins, such as harakeke (flax), turutu (inkberry) or libertia, can be made to sing by drawing them between the fingers as demonstrated by Richard Nunns on the CD Karanga Voices.
A Song of the Birds’ Dawn Chorus
E kō, e kō
Ngā manu e
I roto i te māra a Tāne
Kia hiki ake ai te atakura
Kia whiti ake ai te rā.
Hirini Melbourne*
Sing! Resound!
O ye birds in the garden of Tāne
That the shadows of dawn
are dispersed
And the warming rays of the sun awaken life.
The shiny coprosma leaves are ideal to use as tuarória and imitate a number of different bird calls.
SONGS OF THE INSECTS
In the forests of Tānemahuta when the evening bird song fades to silence, and the noisy orchestra of cicadas end their performance, the gentler chirruping of the crickets and katydids can be heard. Then, as our ears gradually become accustomed to the silence, a new chorus begins. But until the echoing call of ruru, the owl, warns of danger, this chorus is so muted that it is mostly audible only to the myriad night creatures. This is the time of the insects – the casemoth, the weta and all their friends. The tiny songs of these small children of Táne are acknowledged by a group of instruments that also create quiet songs.
RŌria
These very quiet instruments, which can be likened to a Jew’s harp, use a slender tongue of wood or bone which is plucked to create vibrations. These are amplified and modified by manipulation of the player’s mouth, which becomes the resonator. They are used to suggest words while being played. Early traders found that the metal Jew’s harps, which became more durable substitutes, were in great demand and were avidly examined and even modified to suit Māori players’ requirements.
A 100 mm sliver of dry kareao (supplejack), mataī, mānuka, maire or kauwae upoko hue (jawbone of a pilot whale) makes a good instrument. Sometimes this sliver is bound to a holding rod. A wider strip of wood or bone with two slots cut to create a central tongue (see photo) gives an instrument with almost identical characteristics that is easier to learn to play on. The width, length and thickness required to produce the right vibrations of this ‘tongue’ will vary with different materials, so experimentation is the only way to achieve the desired effect.
Te Huruhuru is a rōria made from the flexible thin area of a pilot whale’s jawbone.
Te KŪ
Te kū is a bow with a single string which is tapped with either a rod or the knuckles while using the mouth cupped over the string as a modifying resonator, as with the rōria. Bows made from dry kareao (supplejack) are mentioned in the sparse information on this instrument, but thinned down whale rib and other flexible woods have shown acceptable suitability in trials of several sizes from 400 mm up. All work, though dry, springy kareao works best.
No traditional strings have survived so it is worth experimenting with various light cords or nylon fishing gut to find the one that suits your instrument. When stringing a kú, drill a small hole in one end of the bow to pass a knot-ended cord through and cut a slit in the other end which will catch on another knot. This allows easy untensioning of the kú when not in use. It also provides a cord with no hindrances to affect its minute vibrations. A tiny sliver of bamboo or the delicate long flight bone of an albatross wing makes a great striker for a kū.
The most expressive response is achieved by holding the kū so that the cord goes between the partially open lips while being tapped with a light rod or the knuckles or fingers. Varying the bow tension and the mouth and tongue shapes, and using different strikers, creates the captivating song of this quiet instrument. These sounds are brought to life beautifully when amplified in the following song as recorded on Te Hekenga ā Rangi.
Pao Pao Pao
Pao pao i te aho Kū
Aho Kū, aho Kū.
Tāwhana tāwhana, kōpiko kōpiko.
Pao pao pao pao i te aho Kū
Pao! Pao! Pao!
Pao pao i te aho Kū
Aho Kū, aho Kū.
Ngū waruwaru, ngū waruwaru
Pao pao! Pao pao!
Pao pao i te aho Kū
Aho Kū, aho Kū
Kia mao te ua, kia mao te ua
Pao pao i te aho Kū
Pao pao! Pao pao!
Pao pao mai i te aho Kū
Pao pao! Pao pao!
E tāwhana nei, e tāwhana nei
Pao pao! Pao pao!
E ua! E ua!
E mao! E mao!
Te Kū e! Te Kū e!
Pao pao i te aho Kū, aho Kū.
Hirini Melbourne ^
Tap, tap the string of the Kū
The long and curving Kū
Strike, strike the string of the Kū
Stroke, stroke the string of the Kū
Pluck, pluck the string of the Kū
Pass away the showers
Strum, strum the string of the Kū
See the rainbow appears
Let it rain
Let it cease
in the resonant singing
of the rhythms of the Kū.
This kū named Tāwhana is made from a length of supplejack, the bush vine. Its striker is an albatross bone, and it is decorated with the wing of a tūi and two pilot whale teeth
