“Papa te whatitiri, hikohiko te uira”
“The crash of thunder, the flash of lightning, the spark ignites”

Blending music, theatre and storytelling, Papa breathes new life into the legendary Māori purākau of Ranginui (Rā) and Papatūānuku (Papa). This contemporary reimagining, written and directed by Whitney Nicholls-Potts, led by the mesmerizing Te Ani Solomon as Papa, takes the audience on a deeply moving and thought-provoking journey through love, loss and self-discovery.

From the moment you step into the theatre, the experience begins. The ambient music, led by Shaun Blackwell (who stars as Rā) and the soft lighting create an immersive atmosphere, setting the stage for what is not just a performance but an emotional and spiritual encounter. The opening scene immediately draws us in: Papa, a newly single mother, sits at her table, scrolling through social media.

The images projected onto the set mirror her ‘doom scrolling’, a hauntingly relatable depiction of modern isolation and longing. As she changes the radio station to avoid an International Women’s Day announcement, we sense the underlying tension — her struggle with identity, self-worth and the reality of solo motherhood.

Visually, the show keeps things simple, allowing lighting and music to shape the emotional landscape. The ethereal combination of strings, piano and vocals enhances the dreamlike quality of Papa’s reflections, drawing the audience deeper into her world.

Solomon’s performance is raw and compelling. She masterfully embodies a wāhine toa torn between her yearning for companionship and the weight of her responsibilities. Her adaptation and performance of Whitney’s-monologues are deeply personal, particularly when she reminisces about her Nan, subtly weaving in themes of intergenerational wisdom and loss.

Adding depth and humour to the show are Papa’s two spiritual guardians, Nana Rose, played by Te Kura Huia, and Grandma Rose, played by Monica-Ellen Vincent-Graham. Dressed in contrasting white and black, they serve as both her conscience and her spiritual guides, offering opposing views on her past relationship with Rā.

Their dynamic brings a balance of comedy and wisdom, easing the weight of heavy themes like depression, grief, feminism, abortion and solo parenting. Through waiata and whakataukī, they infuse the narrative with the essence of Te Ao Māori, ensuring that even the toughest conversations are grounded in mana, wairua, and mauri.

What makes Papa particularly powerful is its unflinching honesty. Hard topics are often left unspoken in Te Ao Māori, yet this production approaches them with dignity and care. The storytelling feels effortless, yet its impact is profound.

This is more than just a modern retelling of a legend — it’s a reflection of real-life struggles, a celebration of wāhine Māori resilience and a testament to the power of purākau.

A must-see for those who appreciate theatre that challenges, heals and uplifts.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Described as “a multimedia rant on the current state of love and domestic life”, Papa, written and directed by Whitney Nicholls-Potts, ingeniously blends mythology and reality through the dramatised waking fever dream of a solo mum.

The origin story of how ‘enlightenment’ came to te ao Māori is well known in Aotearoa. Unhappy at being consigned to darkness, thanks to the tight embrace of Ranginui, their father, and Papatūānuku, their mother, the children (numbers vary between 70 and 500) debated over how to push them apart. In the end – or should we say at the new beginning – it was Tanemahuta, atua of the forests and birds, who separated them (although Taranaki tradition says it was Tangaroa, atua of the sea, who did the deed).* Either way, that’s how the children’s sky father became distant to them while they were nurtured by their earth mother, who grieved at the separation while expanding and flourishing herself.  

The preset for Papa the play immerses us in a rain-drenched subtropical rain forest (set design by Hannah Clarke-Sersen & Sam Hanna; visuals by Ashley Church; lighting by Maea Shepherd) as in the shadows, composer Shaun Blackwell creates sustained high-pitched sounds on a keyboard, suggesting all is not well in what we might have thought was a natural paradise. 

In her home a lone pyjama-clad woman, Papa, is scrolling TikTok. She pauses on a message that says: “It’s not that humanity has been lost. It’s that we’ve become so separated from the sacredness that exists within us all.” Images of Blackwell as Rangi – a suave musician on the road – also remind her of what she’s lost.

She discovers us in the audience and summons Grandma Birdie and Nana Rose from te ao Wairua … The mash up of Papa’s prosaic, mythical and spiritual thoughts and feelings are manifested brilliantly in Papa the play .

Te Ani Solomon is powerful yet mercurial in the title role, superbly navigating all the emotions between the losses and gains of her life in ways that imbue her with the mana of a wāhine toa. Her quest to balance the competing forces in her life could manifest as existential angst but despite being a solo mum, she’s not alone.

As her tupuna wāhine, Te KuraHuia Henare’s Nana Rose and Monica-Ellen Vincent-Graham’s Grandma Birdie are a formidable double act, laying down the lore one minute and waxing wicked the next. Whether they are singing, bickering, having a good time or confronting some issue over a cuppa, the behavioural dynamics of all three wāhine are distinctly Māori – and a joy to behold.

Papa recalls how intertwined she and Rangi were, until the kids came. But her rejoinder to the idea that “it was the kids who broke us apart” is that she has found her strength in her pēpi. She asks whether it is parents or children who most embody “unconditional love” and concludes, “They teach us how to love again. Properly.” Then she adds, “Funny how we change to become more like ourselves.”

There is no doubt that, as they “fight for the light”, she will support them – all boys – to become whatever they want to be. Early on in the play, Papa mentions she’s pregnant again and we’re left to wonder whether Rangi paid a quick visit to see his tamariki. Later she says the boys want a sister, and suggests she’ll have to find another man for that. So I’m wondering where the current pregnancy fits in.

Papa the play is wonderfully written, produced and performed to capture the chaotic nature of night-time musings. Are the forces opposing or is she intuitively weaving them together into a strong whiri iwituna she can hold fast to?

Whether you respond more to Papa’s physical presence or metaphysical musings, I feel certain anyone will find this production compelling. [This season is sold out but doubtless it will return.]

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*This is an extremely reduced summary of the story in Papa’s programme/poster and a Wiki article “based largely on the writings of a Te Arawa chief, Wiremu Maihi Te Rangikāheke, who is the author of much of the material in George Grey’s Nga Mahi a nga Tupuna (Grey 1971), originally published in 1853 and later translated into English as Polynesian Mythology (Grey 1956). It should be understood that the version presented here represents just one Māori creation myth among many variants.”

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer