1. Rangi: The Tunes
The setting sun silhouettes the skyline from Tāhunanui, Nelson. The patterning of the clouds and the sea, and the shape of the skyline can all suggest new songs.
Rangi is the term applied to all tunes, and it is also the shortened name of the Sky Father, Ranginui e tū iho nei, in whose realm they exist, from whom they are descended and to whom they ascend. Just as the universe took its physical shaping from the singing of the gods, music can be perceived as creating shapes in the silence. With this concept as an anchor, we too can strive to create music that makes pleasing shapes in the same way that carvers or other artists do in the physical world.
For earlier generations music was so special that it needed a reason and an occasion to be played. It was not customary to make melodies that stood alone. The music of kōauau and pūtōrino always had words and an expert player could make these heard through the instrument.
Those early musicians’ use of microtone scales had the effect of compressing a normal number of notes into the range of just a few notes in the modern scale.
As the instruments were made to complement the singing they are an obvious anchor stone for development of musical ideas within those traditional parameters. Traditional music reflects natural sounds and, like the language, its intonation conveys a mood that is then complemented by the words. Therefore, capturing the right sound pattern is essential to creating a song. For inspiration we can listen to the sounds around us, so take time and listen to the sounds of wind in the trees or whistling against a sharp corner, surf crashing onto rocks or swishing up and down the gravel on the beach, a lake’s waves lapping against the bank, the timeless inspiration of bubbling streams, thermal bubbles and gurgles. In listening you will learn to focus your hearing, just as you focus your eyes in looking.
The wonderful songs of kōkako, tūi and korimako (bellbirds) are phrased as waiata, sometimes even with choruses. Each bird’s song also carries its own message and careful listening will allow you to appreciate the male tūi’s kōroki, or loud call of welcome to the new day. This is subtly different from the softer korihi of the female tūi.
Kōkako is the blue-wattled crow. Its pure song amplifies the sound of Raukatauri, goddess of flute music. Photo Credit: Tara Swan
Bird songs also provide a lesson in adaptation. They are adapted to today’s sound world but the adaptations are done in a way that retains the songs’ original character. For instance, the tūi will intertwine the song of a chaffinch and other sounds into its verses and kōkako have even been heard to copy the sound of a chainsaw or a barking deer. Sometimes, when a tauhou or waxeye is alone it stops its twittering flocking calls and ‘whispers’ an enchanting series of ever-changing verses. This is a personal song and an inspiration to any composer. The lilting song of the riroriro or grey warbler has a beautiful flowing sound that keeps within a limited range of notes. It does not attempt to sing above the noise of wind and rain. but on calm days its trilling voice carries messages of the bounty in Tāne’s forest and reminds us of the interdependence of all its varied parts.
Raukatauri, the casemoth, is the personification of the goddess of the same name, who loved her flute so much that she chose to live inside it. She is pictured here by the flowers of the pōhutukawa.
Then there are the quiet sounds of some insects. I have talked to only one person who has listened to the casemoth, Raukatauri, the shy Goddess of Flute Music, but that tiny sound inspires the kōkako’s beautiful song, as is explained in a story to be told later. Noisy cicada songs also have a special place in tradition.
There are several families of these insects and each has its own unique song. These are isolated on Karanga Voices, Volume 4. You can also look around you at the music described by the undulations of a section of the skyline as it rises and falls, the shape of a rock, a pattern in weaving or painting with its changing textures or colours, the shapes of a leaf edge or the hanging fern, Ngā Makawe a Raukatauri, which would be an inspirational theme for both words and tune. Even the ethereal colour patterns of a rainbow and their reversal in the double bow that comprises the complementary male and female elements can become our inspiration.
An evening song is echoed by the reflection of the clouds in Lake Rotoiti
A recommended place to start learning about Māori music is by listening to early recordings of songs such as those on the CDs accompanying the book He Waiata Onamata,5 which also features instrumental sounds. The music on the CDs referred to throughout this book, some of which is included on the sampler CD that accompanies it, has proved to be a very successful learning tool for some players. Rangi Dewes’s LP Mōteatea is hard to get now but invaluable. However, even early recordings like this were already influenced by contact with European music, so going back to nature is one way of returning to the sounds that influenced the early musicians.
Karanga Voices, Volume 4, a recent CD recording by the Asia Pacific Archive, School of Music, Victoria University,(6) has an interesting collection of bird and insect songs for those who find it hard to access and identify these sounds. Pūkaha, Songs from the Forest, a fundraising CD from the National Wildlife Centre Trust at Mount Bruce in Masterton,(7) contains a wealth of inspirational birdsong. The accompanying booklet with supporting songs by Rangitaane o Wairarapa is full of valuable information about the birds on the recording.
A Song of the Winds and Waters
He hau mihi
He hau pai e
Tuku ora ki te rangi e
Hei hauora mō te ao
Hau manu, hau miri
Hau kāinga, hau ora.
Te wai rere
He wai mata
Tuku ora ki te whenua
Hei waiū mō te ao
Waipuna, waihanga
Waiata, wairua.
Greet the wind
Praise the wind
that brings breath
for the world
Winds of affection
Winds of life.
Flowing water
of tears
Bringing life
to the earth
Releasing song
Reviving spirit.
- Hirini Melbourne
