Māori pride is deeply woven into our community of Rotorua, Te Arawa. The normalisation of Māori kākahu (clothing), mau moko (facial tattoo) and reo Māori is something to be celebrated, especially as we soon mark fifty years of Te Wiki o te Reo Māori. Against this backdrop, it feels fitting to be seated at the Sir Howard Morrison Performing Arts Centre for the latest installation of Atua Wahine by Wairea, founded by Creative Director Rangipo Ihakara (Tūwharetoa, Ngāti Pikiao, Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Kuri, Kūki Āirani), in collaboration with the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra under conductor Tom Rainey.

This is not the first time I have experienced Wairea. Ihakara’s background is firmly rooted in Te Ao Māori, having grown up in a kōhanga and kura kaupapa environment. She carries a strong sense of self, honed as a seasoned kapa haka practitioner, and has emerged as a multidisciplinary artist and choreographer, recognised at the Te Waka Toi Awards in 2024. Her latest theatre production, inspired by Hana Tapiata, is the second phase, which traces its beginnings back to 2023, when Ihakara collaborated on a movement installation called Heipūkarea to support the book launch of Atua Wahine at Te Puia.

This review is not an attempt to dissect choreography or production in a conventional sense. Instead, it reflects on the concepts, ideas, and Te Ao Māori threads that resonated with me as I became absorbed in the experience. Ihakara herself said it best in the Q&A session afterwards: “It is your interpretation. And if you walked out of this and thought to yourself, I didn’t get any of that? That is fine. We will just leave you there.” So here is my interpretation.

The call of karanga is a distinctive feature of Te Ao Māori, and where our journey begins. There is something inherently empowering about karanga. Perhaps it is because the mana is held by wahine, who carry the responsibility of calling people together. If so, it is entirely fitting that this performance begins with three kaikaranga (callers), drawing the audience into a realm of women’s empowerment through a Māori lens.

Characteristic movements coined by Wairea soon emerge. Gradual gestures, hands rising and lowering across the face like a mask, fingers spread wide, giving prominence to the eyes, and the dancers’ piercing pukana commands our attention. The deliberate pace of their walk and gestures intrigues me; it requires patience and asks me to process what I am seeing differently. When the curtain lifts to reveal the NZSO, modernity enters the space. It is quite a pairing, and I cannot help but wonder about the process of exchange between Ihakara and Rainey during the work’s inception. The music is beautiful as the musicians bring the concepts of Atua Wahine to life. 

There is a moment when the space lights up to a line of wahine kneeling and concentrating on the arm movements that are in unison. Realisation hits as this sequence is mimicking poi, and I am so drawn in because I swear I can hear the poi smacking against their forearms and hands. I can see the white ball in my mind moving through space, creating circular patterns in the air. My imagination has ignited. 

Rainey’s compositions, paired with Māori lyrics by Ihakara and sung with power by Ramari Sherman (Ōpōtiki Mai Tawhiti) and Samantha Cotter (Waihirere), bring another texture to the work, breaking up the choreography with moments of musical force. Technology is used effectively too, with backing tracks created by Keri Pewhairangi (Te Arawa, Ngāti Porou, Ngāi Tahu, Ngāti Raukawa, Ngāti Tamaterā) and Ty Gage (Te Whanau ā Apanui, Ngāti Tamatea) from Okareka Oro. Their integration of taonga pūoro (Māori instruments) extends the work’s exploration of Atua Wahine, grounding us in a soundscape that feels both ancient and contemporary. Acknowledgement also goes to Thomas Lambert for his contribution to the music.

At times, the choreography lingers in repetition, and I found myself craving sharper contrasts in movement or timing to break the trance. There is a meditative element, reminiscent of Tai Chi — something my mother once insisted I practice with her in the comfort of our lounge. Yet despite this, I felt the journey was experimental, expansive, and exciting.

I am familiar with contemporary dances that fuse modern techniques with Māori movement. Modern art expression can be dominating and usually, such works are scaffolded by a cultural advisor to ensure performers understand the movement, concepts, and tikanga. Sadly, at times, Māori concepts can be an afterthought to the overall process.  Ihakara and Wairea flip this dynamic completely. Watching poi movements mimic thunder and lightning, I feel I am witnessing something truly authentic: a Māori performance work that embeds traditional Māori values from conception through to performance. In fact, it feels as though the NZSO are invited into Wairea’s process, rather than Māori being added into theirs — a subtle but profound reversal.

I admire how Ihakara embraces wahine from all backgrounds, creating a space that feels unapologetically Māori, unapologetically wahine. Most of all, I admire Wairea for stepping beyond the familiar embrace of Te Ao Haka, choosing instead to carve a new pathway for Māori expression. This work does not seek permission, nor does it ask to be explained. It stands in its own mana, inviting us to witness, to reflect, and to carry its echo well beyond the final note.

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Atua Wāhine is a beautifully crafted, incredibly sensory experience – an invitation and encouragement for the audience to “connect with their own consciousness, to reflect, create, feel discomfort and find comfort”.

Directed and designed by Rangipo Ihakara, the show is a collaboration between Wairea Company and the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra featuring Taonga Puoro.

It is the second phase of Wairea’s exploration into Atua Wāhine, following their debut collaboration with Heipukarea – an event that celebrated Wāhine Maori creatives across disciplines and supported the launch of Hana Tapiata’s book, Atua Wāhine. It was this experience that inspired the company to go deeper into reconnecting with Aua through movement, sound and story.

Ihakara is an exceptional director, cleverly interweaving the performers in and out of the shadows and light – highlighting the NZSO players upstage centre seamlessly, to embrace and support the surrounding performers as they move on and off-stage in their storytelling.

The all-female cast range from infancy to adulthood with a strong contingency of youth – they are all stunning, committed and fearless as they traverse different stories and planes of Papatuanuku, fire, wind and Hina the Goddess of moon. It is wonderful to know that the rangatahi in the show will only grow, develop and flourish with the experience and knowledge of Ihakara and her mahi, in the years to come.

There are so many memorable and connected images. Stories within the story – it is whatever the eye or heart or soul can see, and all beautifully interwoven with the wistfulness and hopefulness of the Taonga Puoro, and held in the musical blanket provided by the NZSO players. There is no separation between the on-stage orchestra, the singers and the dancers – they all perform with one spirit and unity.   

From the deeply moving poignant simplicity of mother holding her baby simply crossing the stage, to the fiery warrior woman in the centre spotlight laying a challenge and defending everything spiritual and lived experiences in life …

One of the stories has an ensemble of performers moving as one towards the audience – they are a force – and the lighting is designed so that their shadows are giants behind them on the cyc. When they turn upstage and sit, there are even more shapes and shadows created – a goose-bump moment when one is asking is it the shadows or the physical bodies on stage that are representing the ancestors.   

There are so many astounding moments!

And when it could have felt odd that a tall pakeha man is standing amidst the fiercely gentle, fiercely solid whānau of wāhine toa, as Tom Rainey conducts the orchestra, his movements are fluid and in sync with the dancers – with respect and reverence of the mahi, wāhine and Te Ao Māori.

I mention this, because it is certainly not, nor ever has been, a ‘given’.

One last and vital mention is that this show was a school’s matinee – a theatre full of local Kura Kaupapa and Kohanga tamariki, a strong number with whom Ihakara has either taught or led in kapahaka.

I have never experienced a school’s matinee to be so quiet and respectful! The tamariki and rangatahi knew this world and appreciated the performance with thunderous applause once it was finished.

After the curtain call, a brief video was shown outlining Wairea Company’s background and vision, the show’s origins, and conversation about Taonga Puoro. To complete the whole experience, Ihakara came on stage along with her cast, and they joyfully and graciously thanked their audience.  She also talked about the style of the show, the content and necessity of Te Ao Māori storytelling.

Ihakara and Wairea Company are forging ahead in creating their own genre – the continuous growth and merging of Māori Performing Arts and contemporary Western Theatre.

Done with superb craft, done with skilled creativity and integrity, done with grace and humility. Done with the dignity and knowledge of sovereignty of Te Ao Māori.

This work, Atua Wāhine, will stun audiences. It really is a great work that is going to be epic – it’s more of a Movement than a show.

It needs to tour, to educate, to instigate, to comfort … and to create discomfort.

Wairea Company are creating history – their Kaupapa is immovable, their vision is epic! In this time when artists and the Arts are being so discouraged, I say to the Wairea Company and Ihakara – “Kia kaha koutou. Tu tonu as you move forward and smash this world with your vision and dreams!”

Do not miss Atua Wāhine when it comes to your town. 

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