Chanting: ʻAe ke haʻa lā Puna i ka makani (Ke haʻa) ke haʻa lā Puna i ka makani Haʻa ka ulu hala i Keaʻau Haʻa ka wahine ʻAmi i kai o Nanahuki la Hula leʻa wale I kai o Nanahuki (ʻO Puna) ʻO Puna kai kuwa i ka hala Paʻēpaʻē ka leo o ke kai Ke ulu la i nā pua lehua Nānā i kaʻi o Hōpoe Ka wahine ami i kai O Nanahuki e Hula leʻa wale e I kai o Nanhuki e Hula leʻa wale e I kai o Nanhuki e. Keʻalohilani: Aloha, Keʻalohilani and Spectrum welcome you back.

On our show today, we will journey to the island of my birth, the Big Island where the fires of  Pele still burn bright at Kīlauea.

On Hawaiʻi, we will pay a visit to Hawaiʻi Volcanoes  National Park and find a host of cultural activities flourishing at the Volcano Art Center,  where a vigorous group of creative artists have gathered together to build their studios and  to call the dense forests of Kīlauea their home.

We'll visit these studios and homes today,  but first, let's approach the Volcano Art Center through the steaming fields of mystery.

Long  before the history of Hawaiʻi was written.

The old people came here to Kīlauea, in the shadow  of the mountain Mauna Loa.

They found the great rainforest and Madame Pele's steaming lava.

Stories of the fiery goddess and her gentle sister, Hiʻiaka are told in chants and in the  ancient hulas.

In 1823, missionary William Ellis was the first westerner to see the volcano.

After  that, adventurers from all over the world traveled to witness the drama of the sometimes molten  landscape.

The steaming bluffs, the forests, and the blazing pits inspired the earlier artists  who braved the long trek up the mountain.

A new generation of creative artists has now come  to Kīlauea, where they have established their studios.

In 1974 the Volcano Art Center was  born—where travelers of old once stayed—the historic 1877 Volcano House.

In partnership with  the National Park Service, the Art Center offers a special and rewarding moment for the visitor.

Works in a wide variety of media reflect the artists' experience in contact with the violent  forces of this vital environment.

The main gallery of the art center welcomes the weary traveler as  it has for more than 100 years.

Marsha Morrison is the Executive Director of the Volcano Art  Center, and will be the hostess of our visit.

She oversees the staff of the Center where the work  of almost 200 artists and crafts people from all over Hawaiʻi is exhibited, providing visitors with  a unique vision of this place and its cultures, the only effort of its kind in any wilderness  National Park.

Here we witness the rendering of forces that transform landscapes and people.

Here,  we may hope that anyone who ventures through these galleries and programs feels a moment of renewal,  a recreated sense of place and self.

Many hands together make the light work.

Since the beginning,  volunteers have provided substantial support.

Announcements, posters, and a tabloid newspaper,  The Volcano Gazatte, helped the art center keep in touch with friends all over the state and the  world.

A busy program schedule offers visitors, students, professional artists, and the community  at large a wide variety of ethnic events, concerts and plays, workshops, seminars, and extended  retreats touching all areas of the arts.

Studio classes are held at the old Japanese schoolhouse  in Volcano Village.

Here, there is a dance studio, a ceramic lab, a community darkroom, and a few  modest spaces that are used for everything else.

While art is the center's mainstay, it in turn  suggests other work to be done.

Thousands of T shirts have been screened in this room, as well  as other artifacts which serve to commemorate programs as varied as a recent marathon run or the  annual volcano dance retreat.

Leaving the Volcano Art Center, we turn to Puna, where Marsha Morrison  will lead us to Jack Straker, Mmaster wood turner, whose delicate core bowls are widely sought.

Jack Straker possesses a renowned Jack Straker possesses a renowned style of craftsmanship,  lending to each bowl thin walls of fragile elegance.

Jack Straker: There’s basically, I guess, classify as  two different types of turning.

One of them is the scraping method, which is  probably the easiest thing to learn.

And you're using either a pointed or  a rounded tool, and you're actually scraping the wood off.

Now with... Marsha Morrisson: So you abrade the wood, in a sense?

JS: Most of the time, particularly on the end grain.

Now if you use  a like a high speed steel bar, that gives you a better finish than just a regular steel that  they use on that type of turning tools.

But, then the other type is the bowl gouges.

MM: And that’s what you do?

JS: That’s, that’s what I’m doing now,  yeah.

And it gives you a much better cut, less abrasion.

And I think as a result, you  have to do less sanding in the long run.

Well, I've always been interested in the wood  turning, but never able to do it, I guess, the right way or productively, until I found a  an advertisement in Popular Mechanics, I guess, or Popular Science on somebody instructing wood  turning.

Now, this was back in maybe early 70s.

MM: Mm hm.

You weren’t in Hawaii yet, then?

JS: No, no, no, no, no.

And I picked up this information from the magazine, and the  guy was in England that was advertising wood training instructions.

Now, at that  time, I didn't find anybody doing it on the mainland and advertising it anyway.

MM: So did you actually go to England?

JS: Yes, yes, believe it or not, three days.

MM: Thre days, and that affected all your wood turning?

JS: Uh, yeah.

The, the.

It’s basically learning to use the bowl  gouges and the bowl turning tools, plus also the between centers turning for the for the  rolling pins, once you learn the technique, and then after that, it's all a matter of practice.

MM: A lot of people really prize your, your, you know, traditional Hawaiian ʻumeke shaped bowls.

JS: The shapes I came across in um, oh letʻs see, where was it?

The Lyman Museum, okay,  carries some bowls in the display area.

MM: When you start to turn a bowl, do  you know what shape it is going to be?

JS: As far as the design, you know, the particular  shapes go, some of, a lot of what I repeat, not necessarily at, you know, one right after  another, kind of thing.

I may forget some shapes and then pick it up later on, but I think a lot  of the shapes are dictated by maybe defects in the wood, or the wood that I'm turning.

MM: So you don't necessarily just throw a piece out that's got a few defects?

JS: No, I guess it depends on the on the wood.

If it's if it's worthwhile doing, then I'll  do patchwork on it, I...There are Hawaiian names for each style of patch that's used and I don't  even try and remember them, because I sort of do that every once in a while type of patchwork.

MM: But you do do them?

JS: Yes, yeah.

And that was, again,  information I've got from Peter Buck's book MM: Oh, Jack you caught me coveting  your bowls here.

I wish I could take a few of these home.

They’re getting  harder and harder to get aren’t they?

JS: I think the demand for  local woods in particular, and a lot of the Hawaiian shapes are going very well  for both local people and the tourist trade.

MM: This is a Hawaiian shape then?

JS: That’s a Hawaiian shape, and might be interested in a Hawaiian patchwork in a koa bowl,  which this particular wood is pretty hard to come by now, and especially in larger sizes.

It's  amazing to me.

I think anybody else that would lift up a bowl, even you know, have it, have one  in your hand, which I had an opportunity to do at the Bishop Museum, and look at the symmetry  of that bowl, or bowls, and visualize somebody, if you want to call it Stone Age type of work  achieve that kind of symmetry and smooth finish and thickness to their types of pieces.

Keʻalohilani: As the work of Jack Straker draws inspiration from the works of the old  craftsman.

Other artists also look to the ways of Old Hawaiʻi.

Linda and Dietrich Varez have  devoted their talents as artists to the cause of depicting the Old Hawaiʻi.

MM: Hui Dietrich!

K: They have also chosen to establish  their homestead deep in the ʻŌhiʻa forest deep in the Volcano region.

MM: So, where’s Linda?

MM: Hi, Linda, howzit?

Linda Varez: Hi, Marsha, good to see you.

Have some tea!

MM: Alright.

So, how have you guys been?

LV: Oh, fine.

Weather’s fine.

MM: Has the volcanic haze affected your gardening at all?

LV: Oh, plenty!

Yes, my taros went underground.

MM: So, we’ve missed seeing your paintings  up at the Art Center for a while.

You’ve been secreting them or something.

LV: Are you interested in seeing something I’m working on?

MM: Sure, we can, where, where’s your latest one?

LV: It’s upstairs.

MM: So, Linda, show me what you've been up to.

LV: Oh, okay.

Well, here it is.

MM: Alright, ah, great.

What, she picking maile?

LV: Picking maile.

Picking ʻŌhiʻa lehua.

MM: Alright.

This looks like that new  plant that you showed me.

The pua... LV: Pua [unintelligible].

MM: Pua [unintelligible].

Alright.

LV: Well, you don’t mind if I work, no?

MM: Oh no, go for it.

Go for it.

I’ll just sit over here.

You're depicting  parts of the forest that, you know, I never even knew about when I lived on Oʻahu.

LV: Well, we only learned this part of the forest by living here and going through the  forest.

We learned to appreciate these things and and our son, Dietrich, having grown up here  with without any other children to play with, but just the forest and the animals, feels  very related to the forest.

And he brings that consciousness to us heavier all the time.

MM: Where do you get your inspiration?

LV: Well, with the quiet life out here.

In the morning, we get up with the sun, and we walk out, we feed the geese and  walk around the yard.

Feed the fish.

MM: Survey your... LV: Fool around with these plants or that plants.

Take a walk in the forest, collect  some models.

But usually, usually, how I start working is, I'll focus on some plant or another  and think, well, I've never painted that before.

I'll collect some of that plant and think about  how do some research, how that might be used, if I donʻt know.

models.

I gradually build up  an awareness, then Dietrich will get out his Polaroid camera and model for this.

And then I’ll  try applying it to the canvas and see how it goes some, some neutral color.

When I get something  that's believable, then I'll go on working and I'll continue working on one of these paintings  for maybe a month, sometimes a little less.

I work on one image for a long time, because I  don't come to the kind of conclusions that, it's an exploration.

And you just can't do it that  fast.

Because every, every painting I do is, is, is new for me.

We try to, try to live out the  things that we're working on.

In other words, if I'm going to work on a painting of planting kalo,  say, then I'll plant kalo, I'll make the mound, go through the whole act.

We'll eat the kalo.

MM: All this before you… LV: It’s all part of the  painting.

Grow align model.

MM: So, there’s much more than picking  up a paintbrush involved in the… LV: It’s not like that at all.

If  I were living in some urban area, that may be how I would approach it, but here  it’s an integral part of my whole existence.

MM: Sometimes I see a real expression  of relationship in your parents between a young man, an old man or [inaudible].

LV: I try to bring out family relationships, because that is the important thing.

And we try.

Well, it's like spending your free time.

Do you wish to spend your free time driving around Hilo  in the smog?

Or do you wish to spend your free time dreaming about ancient Hawaiʻi?

MM: Okay.

LV: Self-reliance is the, is uh, is  the important thing, about all of our cultures before we get too civilized.

MM: Now you and Dietrich built this house single-handedly, pretty much, didn’t you?

LV: Exactly.

We carried everything.

Dietrich hand sawed everything; hand hammered everything.

And uh MM: Did Dietrich Jr.

get involved in helping… LV: Everybody carried.

Since we live here, we  live in this forest, we focus on the forest and its gifts.

It just comes naturally that you live  the whole life.

Myself, the end of the world is at the end of that driveway when I hit the telephone  poles, that's their world.

I hope they like it.

[instrumental music] MM: So, who is your art for anyway?

DV: Well, Marsha, I like to think it's for everyone, but uh, and sometimes I feel that way when I'm busy.

But because  I don't follow all of the traditions that print makers are supposed to follow… MM: Like what traditions are you speaking of?

DV: Well, let’s see, numbering  the prints, limited editions and… MM: Destroying the blocks?

DV: Destroying the block.

MM: Yeah.

DV: Yeah, I feel that the block is a tool to make the impression, so I  don't think I should destroy it would be, well, Hawaiians would think of destroying such a tool  as almost sacrilegious, and I just as soon not do that.

Besides the blocks make so many friends  for me.

Again, back to the question, why?

Who do I think it’s for?

I'd like for everyone to have  them and I price them accordingly and to make them available to people.

And it has worked for  me so far.

I'm now in a position where I actually I'm kind of up against the kind of wall and that  I have so many designs that so many people want, that I'm kept busy all the time printing  those, and don't have much room for new designs, although this year I got in a few.

MM: Oh, I think it must’ve been one of your most prolific years.

You told me that since March  you've carved almost 40 new prints.

Now those are not yet in in wide distribution, are they?

DV: No.

They’re for two books I’m illustrating.

This would be the first time I've done anything  like this, and I find it quite pleasing to do book illustrations.

You’re left alone to read  the manuscript and produce the image, and I like that.

I like that.

MM: So, you don’t find living in the forest isolating for you creatively?

You  don’t feel isolated from other creative people?

DV: No.

I think it’s an advantage.

I,  I, the isolation is, I think, is helping me a lot.

Because I think I would tend to get  influenced, and I like to stay away from that.

So, the isolation gives me the space to look into  myself and see what I want to do, you know, what images I want to come up with.

And also, the  forest, being surrounded by the forest like this.

I mean, what more could anybody ask for, you know?

MM: You've chosen to live out here in relative isolation, almost complete isolation.

Do you  ever miss the interaction with other people?

DV: Interaction?

I’ve recently discovered that a  very necessary element to my artistic inspiration are the plants around here, the forest, the soil.

So, when I get too hung up with the business world with filling gallery orders and this stuff, I  sometimes have to just drop everything and go out into the yard and pull weeds or split some  wood or something.

I was thinking the other day that if I ever made a church the sacraments  would be to have to bury your hands in dirt five minutes each day.

Because I think there's no  substitute for that kind of contact that puts you back on the keel.

You’re very, uh… MM: How do you feel as a haole, Caucasian artist, depicting Hawaiian subjects?

DV: Well, that's a, I like to approach that from two ways: One’s that I don’t really consider  myself, too much haole anymore, having been here this long.

I don’t know what I am besides Hawaiian  at heart at least, anyway.

And I do feel that I’ve chose the Hawaiian culture to support and portray.

I think that I've never found the Hawaiian people against this or anything.

They I get more slaps on  the back from them than from anyone else.

I think we should get more holidays involved preserving  Hawaiian culture.

There's lots of things to do here, many, many.

There's an endless supply of  artistic inspiration, and there's no limit to the work.

I'm just fortunate to have found this place.

Keʻalohilani: Another artist finds his source in the fires of the earth.

Chiu Leong works in  clay--simple, direct forms that bespeak his relationship with life.

His home and studio  are as much an art as are his ceramics.

Chiu Leong: Being an artist is a lifetime  commitment, where, where that is your primary vision.

And that's what you do.

MM: And it’s not just a matter of making pots, either.

CL: Oh no.

MM: Or paintings.

Or quilts.

CL: I’m making pots and paintings of uh, just part of one’s life.

MM: Uh huh.

CL: You know, because of our whole  civilization that's happening, the role of the artist is even more necessary  during these times to uh, [inaudible] and I feel is my role is to reflect this place I live.

It’s  such a, you know just a very simple, basic place, that uh, I’ve come so far away from, uh, my early  life because I was raised in the cities.

So, I came to a place like this is, has always been  a dream of mine when I was living in the city, to live and work, and just have a environment.

This I feel, is a lot of inspiration here to call from to do one’s work.

It is the  only place I see myself really working, all the time.

It is just my home, my studio,  and, and my dream.

That I’ve come here to, to really find this place within my being,  to take the quality of this place and to transfer it into work.

But the role I feel of  a potter or artist craftsman, you know, is to bring beauty to this life and to things that are  made, made by machine, they lack a little life.

And food tastes better from something that’s  handmade.

And, and uh, it looks better, too.

MM: Mm hm.

CL: Well, in the past I’ve done so many glaze  experiments that I can work with the glaze and fire to know how somewhat is going to come  out, or else one can work with it and have it come out almost precisely to what one has in mind.

But that's not quite what I'm interested in.

I'm interested in how the fire decorates the pot,  and I will just provide the space and provide a situation where that will be possible, the  chemistry of the clay and of the glazes with some control of the temperature increase and the  atmosphere in the kiln to, to work with the fire, and the piece is created from it.

You know, so,  I do work with the uncertainties of the fire, and that's what I really enjoy.

So  certain pots have its own karma.

MM: Mm hm.

CL: Some are just meant to make it.

MM: Mm hm.

CL: That's the way it is.

And I'm just in the middle of it, making  it I'm a worker.

The pot has its own life.

Keʻalohilani: The volcano Art Center is  a Hawaiian resource, one to be visited, savored and preserved.

It has provided and will  continue to provide a message from our Big Island in all its thunder and light.

In the end, he  who commits to fire and forest finds the fire and forest within.

The winds buffet and guide.

The earthquakes nudge.

And finally, the artist himself is shaped like the pots and paintings he  crafts by the environment he chooses to work in.

[Chanting] Ae Kua loloa Kea'au i ka nāhelehele Kua loloa Kea'au i ka nāhelehele Hala kua hulu Pana'ewa i ka lā'au 'ino ka maha o ka 'ōhi'a Kūkepakepa ka maha o ka lehua Po'ohina i ka wela a ke akua 'uahi Puna i ka 'olaka'a pōhaku Huna pe'a 'ia e ka wahine Nanahu ahi ka papa 'oluea Momoku ahi Puna hala i 'āpua A ihu ē, a ihu lā A hulihia la i kai A ihu ē, a ihu lā A hulihia la i uka A ua 'āwa'awa A ua noho ha'aha'a A ua helele'i, helele'i, helele'i A ihu ē, A ihu ē, i ē, i ē, i ē He inoa no Hi'iakaikapoliopele