In this issue, we celebrate the things that make people and places unique. The connections that strengthen us when weâre togetherâand the influences that feed us when weâre apartâare all the more important as we adjust to a new normal as individuals and as a community.
Weâre offered a glimpse into the creative universes of artist Kahi Ching and classical pianist Grace Nikae, prodigies who parlayed their gifts into fruitful, lifelong careers in the arts. We follow learning ecologist Daniel Kinzer in his search for the âgeniusâ of place, evident in the resilience of communities and habitats and in the patterns of nature that reveal themselves when we slow down long enough to notice their extraordinary forms. We celebrate the singular charms of destinations near and far, from the mythical vistas along Icelandâs Ring Road to the eccentricities of Wailuku, Maui, a town in the midst of a cultural resurgence.
In recognizing whatâs exceptional about the world around us, weâre reminded of our capacity for overcoming adversity, creating beauty, striving for excellence, and evolving always. We invite you to seek inspiration in the pages that follow as we reimagine, move forward, and build a better tomorrow.
ä»å·ã§ã¯ã人ãå Žæãè±ãã«ããç¬èªæ§ã«ã€ããŠçŽ¹ä»ããŠããŸããå
± ã«éããããšã§åŒ·ãŸãçµãšé¢ããŠããããšã®åœ±é¿ããããã¯ç§ãã¡ã å人ãã³ãã¥ããã£ãšããŠãã¥ãŒããŒãã«ã«é©å¿ããŠããäžã§ãŸããŸ
ãéèŠã«ãªã£ãŠããŸãã
èžè¡ã«æèœãæãã¿ãªã泚ã蟌ã¿ãç涯ã«ããããã£ãªã¢ã§æå ãåããŠããå¥æã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãã®ã«ãã»ãã³ãããšã¯ã©ã·ãã¯ãã¢ã ã¹ãã®ã°ã¬ãŒã¹ã»ãã«ãšããã®ã¯ãªãšã€ãã£ããªäžçãèŠããŠã¿ãŸã ãããå¿ã«ããšããæã£ãŠèªç¶çã®é©ç°çãªå§¿ã芳å¯ããã°èŠã㊠ããã³ãã¥ããã£ãçæ¯ç°å¢ã®èæ§ãšèªç¶ã®æ³åã®ãããªèªç¶çã® ã倩æãã«åŠã¶æ¹æ³ãããšã³ããžã¹ãã®ãããšã«ã»ãã³ã¶ãŒãããšãš ãã«æ¢ç©¶ããŸããããã«ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã®ãªã³ã°ããŒãã®ç¥ç§çãªçµ¶æ¯ ããæå埩èã®çã£åªäžã«ããããŠã€å³¶ã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®é¢šå€ãããªæ¯è² ãŸã§ãäžçã®ãã¹ãã£ããŒã·ã§ã³ã®ãŠããŒã¯ãªé
åã玹ä»ããŸãã äžçäžã®çŽ æŽããããã®ãè³çŸããããšã¯ãç§ãã¡ã®äžã«æœåš ããèœåã«æ°ã¥ãããŠãããŸããããã¯éå¢ãå
æããçŸãããåµé ããåè¶æ§ãç®æããŠåªåããåžžã«é²åãç¶ããããšã®ã§ããåã§ãã ç¶ãããŒãžãç§ãã¡ã®èããæ·±ããååãã«çããããè¯ãææ¥ãç¯ ããŠããããã®ã€ã³ã¹ãã¬ãŒã·ã§ã³ãšãªãããšãé¡ã£ãŠããŸãã
12 LETTER From the Developer
CEO & PUBLISHER
Jason Cutinella
VP BRAND DEVELOPMENT
Ara Laylo
EDITORIAL DIRECTOR
Lauren McNally
EDITOR-AT-LARGE
Matthew Dekneef
NATIONAL EDITOR
Anna Harmon
SENIOR EDITOR
Rae Sojot
ASSOCIATE EDITOR
Eunica Escalante
SENIOR PHOTOGRAPHER
John Hook
DESIGNER
Mai Lan Tran
PUBLISHED BY:
NMG Network
36 N. Hotel St. Ste. A Honolulu, HI 96817
PALM is published exclusively for:
MACNAUGHTON &
CREATIVE SERVICES
Marc Graser VP Global Content
Shannon Fujimoto
Creative Services Director
Gerard Elmore VP Film
Blake Abes
Romeo Lapitan Filmmakers
Kaitlyn Ledzian Brand & Production Manager
Taylor Kondo
Brand Production Coordinator
TRANSLATIONS
Japanese
Akiko Shima
Yuzuwords
Korean AT Marketing
ADVERTISING
Mike Wiley VP Sales mike@nmgnetwork.com
Chris Kelly Partnerships & Media Executive
Courtney Asato Marketing & Advertising Executive
Codey Mita Sales & Marketing Coordinator
OPERATIONS
Joe V. Bock Partner / General Manager - Hawaiâi
Rob Mora VP Special Operations
Francine Naoko Beppu VP Network Strategy
Gary Payne VP Accounting
Courtney Miyashiro Operations Administrator
GROUP © 2021 by Nella Media Group, LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reprinted without the written consent of the publisher. Opinions are solely those of the contributors and are not necessarily endorsed by NMG Network.
14
KOBAYASHI
74 16 TABLE OF CONTENTS ARTS 22 State of the Art 30 Growing Up Gifted CULTURE 44 A Big Deal 52 The Genius of Place 66 Electric Light Orchestra DESIGN 74 A Nautical Niche 82 Diamond in the Rough ESCAPES 96 Light and Landscapes 108 Wailukuâs Renaissance FARE 120 Raising the Bar 82 ON THE COVER
Brooke Wood is photographed by Mark Kushimi inside the historic Wo Fat Building in Honoluluâs Chinatown.
è¡šçŽ
åçïŒããŒã¯ã»ã¯ã·ã
ã¢ãã«ïŒãã«ãã¯ã»ãŠãã
æ®åœ±å ŽæïŒãŠã©ãŒãã¡ã ããã«ãã£ã³ã°
倩æ§ã®æèœã䌞ã°ã
å°ããªäžæ©ã倧ããªå€å
æµ·ã®äžã®ããã
ãã€ã€ã¢ã³ãã®åç³ ãšã¹ã±ãŒã
ã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã»ã«ãããµã³ã¹ é£
æ°äžä»£ã®å±
é
å±
18 82 96 ç®æ¬¡ ã¢ãŒã 22 ã¹ããŒãã»ãªãã»ã¶ã»ã¢ãŒã 30
æå 44
52
66 ãšã¬ã¯ããªãã¯ã©ã€ãã»ãªãŒã±ã¹ãã©
74
èªç¶çã®å€©æã«åŠã¶
ãã¶ã€ã³
82
96
108
ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã®å
120
notions
AR TS
that amplify
A PALM ã¢ãŒã
Visual
the soul of the city
21
PALM A
PALM
State of the Art
Text by Josh Tengan
Images courtesy of the artists and Hawaiâi Contemporary æ
Details of Paul Pfeifferâs Poltergeist for Honolulu Biennial 2019 and Drew KahuâÄina Broderickâs Billboard I (The sovereignty of the land is perpetuated in righteousness) at Honolulu Biennial 2017.
22 PALM A ARTS Curators
ã¹ããŒãã»ãªãã»ã¶ã»ã¢ãŒã
= ãžã§ã·ã¥ã»ãã³ã¬ã³ åç = ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããšãã¯ã€ã³ã³ãã³ãã©ãªãŒæäŸ
In anticipation of the Hawaiâi Triennial 2022, two curators affiliated with the international art exhibition discuss the role of biennials and triennials in shaping dialogues about place.
åœéçŸè¡å±ããã¯ã€ã»ããªãšã³ããŒã¬2022ããåã«ãã³ãã¥ããã£ãšã¯ããã³ãã ãã¯ãå°å
ã®çŸè¡é€šã«äžãã圱é¿ãå°åæ§ãèªãäžã§ã®ããšã³ããŒã¬ãšããªãš ã³ããŒã¬ã®åœ¹å²ã«ã€ããŠãéå»ãšçŸåš2人ã®ãã¥ã¬ãŒã¿ãŒã«èããŸããã
Translation by Akiko Shima
翻蚳 = 島æåžå
2022ë
ì íììŽ ížëŠ¬ìë ë ì êž°ë륌 ê°ì§ê³ êµì 믞ì ì ì
íì ì íë ìŽí°ì íì¬ íë ìŽí°ê° ì¥ìì ëí ëí륌 ëë
ë©° ë¹ìë ë ì ížëŠ¬ìë ë ì ìí ì ëíŽ ë
Œìí©ëë€.
Honoluluâs contemporary art ecosystem is relatively small and underdeveloped for a city of its size. Its Indigenous art community is an even smaller subsection of that. Everyone knows everyone.
I was reintroduced to artist, gallerist, curator, and educator Drew Broderick in 2014 after moving home to Hawaiâi from England. He was running SPF Projects, the only independent artist-run initiative at the time, whose mission was to support art with a critical focus on Hawaiâi. Not long after, I began working for his mother, Maile Meyer, founder of Native Books/NÄ Mea Hawaiâi and executive director of the arts nonprofit Puâuhonua Society.
ããã«ã«ã®çŸä»£ã¢ãŒãã®ãšã³ã·ã¹ãã ã¯ããã®ãµã€ãºã®éœåžã«ããŠã¯å°èŠæš¡ã§ çºå±éäžã§ããããã®äžã§ãå
äœæ°ã®ã¢ãŒãã³ãã¥ããã£ã¯ããã«å°ããã誰ã ãé¡èŠç¥ãã ã
ç§ãããªã¥ãŒã»ããããªãã¯ãããšåäŒããã®ã¯2014幎ãã€ã®ãªã¹ããã ã¯ã€ã«åž°åœããåŸã®ããšã ã£ããã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããã®ã£ã©ãªã¹ãããã¥ã¬ãŒã¿ãŒãæ è²è
ãšå€ãã®é¡ãæã€åœŒã¯ãåœæå¯äžã®ç¬ç«ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãã«ãããSPFãããž ã§ã¯ãããéå¶ãããã¯ã€ã«ãã©ãŒã«ã¹ããã¢ãŒãããµããŒãããŠãããåäŒãã éããªãããŠãç§ã¯åœŒã®æ¯èŠªã®ãã€ã¬ã»ã¡ã€ã€ãŒããã®å
ã§åãåºãããšã«ãªã£ ãããã€ã¬ããã¯ããã€ãã£ãããã¯ã¹ïŒãã»ã¡ã¢ã»ãã¯ã€ãã®åµèšè
ã§ãã¢ãŒãé¢
24 A PALM ARTS Curators
Above, an installation view of Ei Arakawaâs Surrounded by Biennials (Sharjah Biennial) during Honolulu Biennial 2019. At left, Hawaiâi Triennial 2022 curators Dr. Miwako Tezuka, Dr. Melissa Chiu, and Drew KahuâÄina Broderick at the Honolulu Museum of Art.
Their âohana has supported artists and creatives in Hawaiâi for generations. After six years of working collectively on various efforts, I am a part of this extended network of continuity and care.
In 2018, I was appointed assistant curator, alongside curator Nina Tonga, of Honolulu Biennial 2019, a multisite public exhibition of art and ideas from Hawaiâi and the Pacific. Broderick was a participating artist in the first edition of the biennial in 2017, curated by Ngahiraka Mason. He returns as an associate curator for the exhibitionâs third iteration, Hawaiâi Triennial 2022, themed Pacific Century: E Hoâomau no MoananuiÄkea. Since its inception, Hawaiâi Contemporary (the nonprofit formerly known as the Honolulu Biennial Foundation, which organizes the periodic exhibition) has overcome skepticism from the local community and leadership change. Today it faces all of the strains that come with a global pandemic. Perhaps now more than ever is a momentous occasion to reflect on the relevance of international art festivals in a cultural moment characterized by isolation and ideological difference. At the core of our conversation is the underlying question: âHow do internationally oriented contemporary art events like biennials and triennials impact local communities?â
JT: What communities do you belong to? As one of the curators of the upcoming Hawaiâi Triennial, who do you see as your audience?
Iâm from MÅkapu, a peninsula between the bays of KÄneâohe and Kailua, on the windward side of the island of Oâahu in the occupied archipelagic nation of Hawaiâi. Itâs from this place that my sense of belonging comes.
âCommunityâ is a loaded word, full of relationships, fraught with contradictions, as alienating as it is empowering. Sometimes we claim, and sometimes we are claimed. Either way, the context from which we live, work, make, and care shapes us, as do the communities we belong to and the audiences that our collective efforts serve.
Knowing this, I try not to assume a particular audience, as there are often many more than we initially imagine. That said, I believe that biennials and triennials, no matter where they happen, should begin from where they are. Without Hawaiâi, there is no Hawaiâi Triennial. This understanding is fundamental. Regardless of who the upcoming triennial is for, those involved must embody a deep sense of responsibility to the forms and flows, both animate and inanimate, that comprise this placeâ Hawaiâi nei.
é£ã®éå¶å©å£äœãããŠããã¢ã»ãœãµãšãã£ãã®äºåå±é·ãåããã圌ãã®å®¶æïŒ ãªããïŒã¯äœäžä»£ã«ãããã£ãŠãã¯ã€ã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããã¯ãªãšã€ã¿ãŒãã¡ãæ¯æŽ ããŠãããæ§ã
ãªãããžã§ã¯ãã§åœŒããšã³ã©ãã¬ãŒãããŠ6幎ãçµã£ãä»ãç§ã¯ã ã®æåä¿è·ã®ç¶ç¶çãªåãçµã¿ã®äžç«¯ãæ
ããªããã®äžå¡ãšãªã£ãŠããã 2018幎ãç§ã¯ãã¥ã¬ãŒã¿ãŒã®ããŒãã»ãã³ã¬ãããšãšãã«ããã«ã«ã»ã ãšã³ããŒã¬2019ã®ã¢ã·ã¹ã¿ã³ããã¥ã¬ãŒã¿ãŒã«ä»»åœããããããã«ã«ã»ããš ã³ããŒã¬ã¯å€ªå¹³æŽå°åãšãã¯ã€ã®çŸä»£ã¢ãŒããéããŠäººã
ã«èžè¡ãã¢ã€ã ã£ã¢ã®ã°ããŒãã«ãªäº€æµã®å ŽãæäŸããåœéçŸè¡å±ã ã2017幎ã«ããã© ã«ã»ã¡ã€ãœã³æ°ããã¥ã¬ãŒã·ã§ã³ãææããååããšã³ããŒã¬ã«ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ã ãšããŠåå ããŠããããªã¥ãŒããã¯ãåã³ã倪平æŽã®äžçŽïŒE HoÊ»omau no MoananuiÄkeaããããŒãã«ããïŒåç®ã®ãã¯ã€ã»ããªãšã³ããŒã¬2022ã«ã¢ãœ ã·ãšã€ããã¥ã¬ãŒã¿ãŒãšããŠæ»ã£ãŠããã
ãã¯ã€ã³ã³ãã³ãã©ãªãŒïŒå®æçã«ã¢ãŒãå±ãäž»å¬ããéå¶å©å£äœãæ§ ããã«ã«ã»ããšã³ããŒã¬è²¡å£ïŒã¯èšç«ä»¥æ¥ãå°å
瀟äŒããã®æççãªèŠç·ã㪠ãŒããŒã·ããã®äº€ä»£ãšããé£å±ãä¹ãåã£ãŠä»ã«è³ãããããŠçŸåšã¯ãã³ãã ãã¯ã«èµ·å ããæ§ã
ãªè©Šç·Žã«çŽé¢ããŠãããå€ç«ãã€ããªãã®ãŒã®éããšã㣠ãæåçã«è©Šããããã®æãããåœéã¢ãŒããã§ã¹ãã£ãã«ã®ããæ¹ã«ã€ã㊠èŠçŽã倧åãªæ©äŒãªã®ãããããªããä»åè¿œæ±ããããŒãã¯ããããšã³ããŒã¬ ãããªãšã³ããŒã¬ã®ãããªæµ·å€ãžåããçŸä»£ã¢ãŒãå±ãå°å
瀟äŒã«äžãã圱 é¿ãšã¯ïŒããšãããã®ã ã
JT: ããªãã¯ã©ã®ã³ãã¥ããã£ã«å±ããŠããŸããïŒæ¬¡åãã¯ã€ã»ããªãšã³ã㌠ã¬ã®ãã¥ã¬ãŒã¿ãŒã®ããªãã«ãšã£ãŠã察象ã®ãªãŒãã£ãšã³ã¹ã¯èª°ã§ããïŒ ç§ã¯ã¢ã«ãã®åºèº«ã§ããã¢ã«ãã¯ãã€ãŠéæ³ã«å é ããã矀島åœå®¶ã㯠ã€ã®ãªã¢ã島ãŠã£ã³ãã¯ãŒãåŽã®ã«ããªã湟ãšã«ã€ã«ã¢æ¹Ÿã®éã«ããå島ã§ãã ç§ã®åž°å±æèã¯ãã®å Žæããæ¥ãŠããŸãã
ã³ãã¥ããã£ãšããèšèã«ã¯ããããã®æå³ããã£ãŠãããã¯äººéé¢ä¿ã ççŸã«æºã¡ãåãäžããŠãããããšãããã°çå€æãäžããããšããããŸããèª åãã¡ã§äž»åŒµããããšãããã°ã奪ãããããšãããã®ã§ããç§ãã¡ãäœã¿ãå ããäœãã倧åã«ãããã®ãç§ãã¡ã圢äœãã®ãšåãã§ãåœéèžè¡ç¥ã圢æã ãã®ã¯ç§ãã¡ãå±ããã³ãã¥ããã£ãšã¢ãŒããçºä¿¡ãã察象ã®ãªãŒãã£ãšã³ã¹ ãªã®ã§ãã
ãã®äžã§ç§ã¯ãããŠç¹å®ã®ãªãŒãã£ãšã³ã¹ã«ç¹åããªãããã«ããŠã㟠ãããªããªãå®éã«ã¯ç§ãã¡ãæ³å®ããããã¯ããã«å€ãã®ãªãŒãã£ãšã³ã¹ã ããããã§ããããã§ãããšã³ããŒã¬ãšããªãšã³ããŒã¬ã¯éå¬å Žæã«ãããã ããã¢ãŒããçãŸããå Žæããã¹ã¿ãŒããã¹ãã ãšç§ã¯èããŸãããã¯ã€æã ã«ãã¯ã€ã»ããªãšã³ããŒã¬ã¯ååšããŸãããããæ ¹åºã«ããèãæ¹ã§ãã次ã®ã ãªãšã³ããŒã¬ã®ãªãŒãã£ãšã³ã¹ã誰ã§ããéå¬åŽã®ç§ãã¡ã¯ãã®å Žæãã㯠ã€ãã€ããäœãäžããããããã¢ãŒãã«å¯Ÿãã䜿åœæãå
·çŸåããå¿
èŠãã ããŸãã
26 PALM A ARTS Curators
Installation view of Demian DinéYazhiâs my ancestors will not let me forget this at Honolulu Biennial 2019.
Some of the major arguments in favor of launching the inaugural Honolulu Biennial (now the Hawaiâi Triennial) were that most major cosmopolitan cities around the world host large-scale international art exhibitions, and that Hawaiâi provides a unique exhibition context as a crossroads of the Pacific, where East, West, and Indigenous culture collide. How do you understand this framing of the place you call home?
From my perspective, the second point you mention is perhaps more significant to the work that has been done and continues to be done locally within communities. If something is happening elsewhere in the world, that doesnât necessarily mean it should take place here. We are well aware that biennials and triennials originated in a European context during the late 19th century.
Indeed, Hawaiâi has a lot to offer global conversations. Our unique position at a piko of Moananui, a center of the Pacific, is not to be taken for granted. With time and practice, however, I have realized that internationally oriented art events often take more from Indigenous and local communities than they give. This asymmetry is commonplace throughout the global circuit and deserves to be considered carefully and challenged intentionally wherever and whenever possible. Hawaiâiâs contested histories and the ongoing acts of refusal and affirmation that define daily life allow us to do just that. As Native Hawaiian nationalist, educator, political scientist, author, and poet Haunani-Kay Trask has written, âResistance is its own reward.â
We are in a moment when local museums and institutions have shifted their programming to center on local artistsâ Bishop Museum recently did a ten-year survey of Pow! Wow!, Honolulu Museum of Art is commissioning Hawaiâi artists in a series of site-specific installations activating their courtyards. Is this a trend that we can expect for Hawaiâi Triennial 2022?
The unevenly distributed Covid-19 pandemic has placed local institutions and organizations in an even more precarious position than before. With the rise in international shipping costs and restrictions on travel, artists and audiences of Hawaiâi have become more crucial than ever. The irony is that it took a deadly virus for some to recognize and acknowledge the value of Hawaiâi. Another way to look at it is that our museums are simply appropriating the grassroots efforts of communities because their relevance depends on it. Regardless, if supporting Native and local artists is a current trendâ long overdueâthen yes, the upcoming Hawaiâi Triennial 2022 will continue in this direction.
ããã«ã«ã»ããšã³ããŒã¬ïŒçŸåšã®ãã¯ã€ã»ããªãšã³ããŒã¬ïŒãéå¬ãã¹ãçç±ãš ããŠãµããŒã¿ãŒã®å€ãã¯ãäžçã®åœééœåžã®ã»ãšãã©ã§å€§èŠæš¡ãªåœéçŸè¡å± ãéå¬ãããŠããããšããããŠãã¯ã€ãæ±ãšè¥¿ãšå
äœæ°æåã®äº€ããå€ªå¹³æŽ ã®äžå¿ã«ãã£ãŠãŠããŒã¯ãªå±ç€ºãå¯èœã«ããç¹ãæããŠããŸãããããªãã® æ
é·ã§ãããã¯ã€ã«ã€ããŠã®ãã®æãæ¹ãã©ãæããŸããïŒ
åŸè
ã®ãã€ã³ãã¯å°å
ã³ãã¥ããã£ã®äžã§äœãããäœãç¶ããããŠãã㢠ãŒãã«ãšã£ãŠã¯ç¹ã«éèŠãªæå³ãããããšæããŸããäžçã®ä»ã®éœåžã§éå¬ã ããŠãããããšãã£ãŠãå¿
ããããã¯ã€ã«ããªããã°ãšã¯æããŸãããããšã³ã ãŒã¬ãããªãšã³ããŒã¬ã¯19äžçŽåŸåã®ãšãŒãããã«èµ·æºããããŸããã
å®éããã¯ã€ã«ã¯äžçã«åããŠçºä¿¡ã§ããããšããããããããŸããç§ã ã¡ããã¢ã¢ããã€ã®ãã³ããšåŒã¶å€ªå¹³æŽã®äžå¿ã«ãããã¯ã€ã®ãŠããŒã¯ãªå°ç çç°å¢ã¯ãšãŠãç¹å¥ãªãã®ã§ãããšãããæéãšçµéšãéãããã¡ã«ãåœéèž è¡ç¥ã®å€ãã¯å
äœæ°ãå°å
ã®ã³ãã¥ããã£ã«äžãããã®ãã奪ããã®ã®ã»ãã å€ãããšã«æ°ã¥ããã®ã§ãããã®äžåè¡¡ã¯ã°ããŒãã«ç€ŸäŒã§äžè¬çã«åºãèŠã ããåé¡ã§ãæ
éã«é
æ
®ããã§ããã ãå€ãã®å Žé¢ã§æå³çã«æ矩ãå±ããŠã ãå¿
èŠããããŸããããã¯ãã¯ã€ã®äºãã®æŽå²ãšæ¥åžžç掻ã«ãããåŠå®ãšè¯å® ã®ç¹°ãè¿ããç§ãã¡ã«ãããŠãããå¯äžã®ããšã§ãããã€ãã£ããã¯ã€ã¢ã³ã®æ° æ䞻矩è
ãæè²è
ãæ¿æ²»åŠè
ãäœå®¶ã詩人ã®ããŠããã»ã±ã€ã»ãã©ã¹ã¯ãããæžã ãŠããããã«ãæµæã¯ãŸãã«ããèªäœãèŠè¿ããªã®ã§ããã
ä»å°å
ã®çŸè¡é€šãæ©é¢ã¯ãå°å
ã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãã«çŠç¹ãåœãŠãããã°ã©ã ã« ã·ãããã€ã€ãããŸãããã·ã§ããåç©é€šã§ã¯æè¿ãPow! Wow!ã®10幎㮠æŽå²ãæ¯ãè¿ãå±ç€ºãè¡ããããã«ã«çŸè¡é€šã§ã¯è€æ°ã®å°å
ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãã« ãããã¯ã€ã«ãã©ãŒã«ã¹ããã¢ãŒãã·ãªãŒãºãäžåºã«è£œäœäžã§ãããã¯ã€ã»ã ãªãšã³ããŒã¬2022ã§ããã®ãã¬ã³ããèŠãããã®ã§ããããïŒ å°å
ã®èžè¡æœèšãå£äœã¯äžåè¡¡ãªæ°åã³ãããŠã€ã«ã¹ã®ãã³ããã㯠ã«ãã£ãŠã以åã«ãå¢ããŠäžå®å®ãªç¶æ³ã«çœ®ãããŠããŸããæµ·å€é
éã³ã¹ãã® å¢å ãšæ
è¡å¶éã®åœ±é¿ã§ãã¯ã€ã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããšãªãŒãã£ãšã³ã¹ããããŸã§ä»¥ äžã«éèŠãšãªã£ãŠããŸããèŽåœçãªãŠã€ã«ã¹ã®ãããã§ä»¥åã«ãå¢ããŠãã¯ã€ ã®äŸ¡å€ãèªç¥ãããããã«ãªã£ãã®ã¯ç®èãªããšã§ãããããŠãã¯ã€ã®çŸè¡é€š ã¯ã人ã
ã®é¢å¿ãéããã³ãã¥ããã£ã®èã®æ ¹çãªã¢ãŒã掻åã«æ³šç®ãããã ã«ãªããŸããããã€ãã£ããã¯ã€ã¢ã³ãšå°å
ã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãããµããŒãããããš ãçŸåšã®ãã¬ã³ãã§ãããšããã°ãããã¯æ¬åœã«ãããããããšã§ããããã¯ãŸ ãã«æ¬¡åãã¯ã€ã»ããªãšã³ããŒã¬2022ãç®æããŠãããã®ã§ãã
28 A PALM ARTS Curators
Growing Up Gifted
倩æ§ã®æèœã䌞ã°ã
æ = ãªã³ãŒã€ã»ã±ã»ã«
åç = ã¯ãªã¹ã»ããŒã©ãŒ
30 PALM A ARTS Prodigies
Text by Lindsey Kesel
Images by Chris Rohrer
A pair of former child prodigies talk inspiration, art as language, and the evolution of their craft.
ãã€ãŠå€©æå
ãšåŒã°ããäºäººããã€ã³ã¹ãã¬ãŒã·ã§ ã³ã®æºãè¡šçŸæ段ãšããŠã®èžè¡ããããŠããããã®æ èœãããã«æè¯ãããŠããããèªã£ãŠãããŸããã
GRACE NIKAE Classical Pianist
Atrue-to-form prodigy, Grace Nikae took her first piano lesson at nine months old. Two years later, she was playing complex concertos and reading Mark Twain novels. âYou donât realize what youâre doing is not like everyone else. Itâs the most natural thing in the world,â she says. âBut our way of perceiving patterns is different. It doesnât simply apply to musical notes but also math, language, reading words on a page.â
å
žåçãªå€©æå°å¥³ã ã£ãã°ã¬ã€ã¹ã»ãã«ãšããã¯ã çåŸ9ãæã§æåã®ãã¢ãã®ã¬ãã¹ã³ãåããŠã ãããã®2幎åŸã«ã¯è€éãªãã¢ãåå¥æ²ã匟ãã㪠ããããŒã¯ã»ããŠã§ã€ã³ã®å°èª¬ãèªãã§ããããèªå ãã»ãã®åãšã¯éãããšãããŠãããªããŠç¥ããŸã ãã§ãããããèªç¶ã«ãã¢ãã匟ããå°èª¬ãèªãã§ã ããã§ãããšãã«ãšããã¯æ¯ãè¿ããããã ãç§ãã¡ ããã¿ãŒã³ãç解ããæ¹æ³ã¯æ®éãšã¯éã£ãŠã㟠ããé³ç¬Šã ãã§ã¯ãªããæ°åŠãèªåŠãæžãããæå ãèªããšãããããªã®ã§ãã
ëëª
ì ë¹ë²í ìŽëŠ°ìŽê° ìê°, ìžìŽë¡ìì ìì , êž°ì ì ë°ì ì ëíŽ ìŽìŒêž°í©ëë€.
Nikae made her professional debut with the Honolulu Symphony Orchestra at 8 years old. At 14 years old, she was offered early university acceptance but chose instead to continue her education at âIolani School. She played Carnegie Hall before her 18th birthday and, at 21 years old, began studying under renowned Ukrainian pianist Alexander Slobodyanik, âa profound influence who helped me transition from child to adult artist.â Then Nikae embarked on an international concert career that spanned two decades and showcased her music in elite concert halls from London to Tokyo.
Playing piano has always been a journey of self-discovery for Nikae: âMusic gave me a voice to say things I couldnât say with my real voice, to explore the great themes of existenceâwhat does it mean to be an individual, to love, to grieve, to search for something more?â She found inspiration in the many
ãã«ãšããããããšããŠããã¥ãŒã食ã£ã ã®ã¯8æ³ã®ãšããããã«ã«äº€é¿æ¥œå£ãšã®å
±æŒã 㣠ãã14æ³ã§å€§åŠãžã®æ©æå
¥åŠãèªãããããã ã€ãªã©ãæ ¡ïŒããã«ã«ã«ãã幌çšåããé«æ ¡ãŸã§ ã®ç§ç«äžè²«æ ¡ïŒã§åŠã³ç¶ããéãéžãã ã18æ³ ã®èªçæ¥ãè¿ããåã«ã«ãŒãã®ãŒã»ããŒã«ã§æŒå¥ ãã21æ³ã§ãŠã¯ã©ã€ãåºèº«ã®èåãªãã¢ãã¹ãã㢠ã¬ã¯ãµã³ãã«ã»ã¹ãããžã£ãã¯ã«åž«äºããåã©ããã 倧人ã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããžãšç§»è¡ãããšãã«ãå€å€§ãªåœ± é¿ãåããŸãããããããã20幎ã«ãããããã«ãš ããã¯åœéçãªããã®æŒå¥å®¶ãšããŠããã³ãã³ãã æ±äº¬ãŸã§äžæµã®ã³ã³ãµãŒãããŒã«ã§ãã®é³æ¥œçæ èœãæ«é²ããŠããã
ãã«ãšããã«ãšã£ãŠããã¢ãã®æŒå¥ã¯åžžã«èª åãçºèŠããæ
ã§ããã£ãããé³æ¥œã¯ãèªåã®å£°ã§ ã¯äŒããããªãããšãè¡šçŸããæ段ãšãèªåã®å åšãæ¯ãã倧ããªããŒããæ¢ãæ段ãäžããŠãã ãŸãããç§ãå人ãšããŠååšããããšã«ã©ããªæ å³ãããã®ããæããããšãåãæ²ããããšãããã« ãã£ãšæ·±ãäœããæ¢æ±ããããšã®æå³ãç¥ããã
Translation by Eri Toyama Lau 翻蚳 = ã©ãŠå€å±±æµç
32 A ARTS Prodigies
ã¯ã©ã·ãã¯ã»ãã¢ãã¹ã
ã°ã¬ã€ã¹ã»ãã«ãšïŒäºæ¿å
·éºåïŒãã
âYou donât realize what youâre doing is not like everyone else,â says piano prodigy Grace Nikae, who made her professional debut with the Honolulu Symphony Orchestra at 8 years old.
artists and intellectuals in her family, including a mathematician uncle who solved a theorem heâd been working on for 25 years. âI remember when he finally solved it, it was so beyond my understanding,â Nikae says. âI was so struck by the amount of concentration and the amount of passion. Even when he couldnât see a result, he continued to believe and search.â
Seeking a way to connect with others more directly through music, she served as a cultural ambassador for the U.S. Department of State and as an artistic ambassador for UNICEF Spain, helping children in impoverished areas in India, Nepal, and Ghana develop their artistic voices. In 2014, she renounced the rigors of touring to forge a new path, one she hoped would bring her greater fulfillment. âThis art belongs to you, but very often, the world makes the artist feel like they have an obligation to give that art to everyone else,â she says. âI wanted to be able to find out who I was when I walked away from the piano.â
Since then, Nikae has published nine novels under a pen name and founded Gracefully Live, an organization that helps business executives develop leadership skills and shift their companiesâ internal culture toward empowerment. âI went from being a young girl who led an entire orchestra to going headto-head with executives to get them to lead hundreds of people in the right way,â she says. âIâm working with people so they can realize their truths and become their fullest self. In many ways, thatâs what I had done with myself through my art all those years.â
Nikae still plays piano every day, and she enjoys the perpetual challenge of performing her favorite pieces for benefit concerts and other charitable causes that have personal meaning to her. Now, making music is about building relationships with her listeners, where both artist and audience are united and enriched. âEvery time you play, you discover another layer, another nuance, new ways you want to express it that you couldnât fathom before,â she says. âThereâs always, to the very last breath of life, an opportunity to grow.â
ã£ãã®ã§ããããã«ãšããã¯ã25幎éç 究ãç¶ããæ«ã«å®çãå®èšŒããæ° åŠè
ã§ãã䌯ç¶ãã¯ãããšããŠã芪æã®ãªãã«ããå€ãã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãã ç¥è人ããã€ã³ã¹ãã¬ãŒã·ã§ã³ãåŸãŠãããã䌯ç¶ãããããå®çã蚌æã ããšãã®ããšãèŠããŠããŸãããããã¯ç§ã®ç解ãã¯ããã«è¶
ããŠããŸã ãããšããã«ãšããã¯æ¯ãè¿ããã䌯ç¶ã®éäžåãšæ
ç±ã®ãããŸããã¯è¡æ çã§ãããçµæãèŠãããšãã§ããªãã®ã«ã䌯ç¶ã¯ã²ãããä¿¡ããç 究ãç¶ ããã®ã§ãã
é³æ¥œãéããŠããçŽæ¥çã«ä»è
ãšã€ãªããæ¹æ³ãæ±ããŠããã«ãšã ãã¯ç±³åœåœåçã®æå倧䜿ããŠãã»ãã¹ãã€ã³æ¯éšã®èžè¡å€§äœ¿ãšããŠã〠ã³ãããããŒã«ãã¬ãŒããªã©ã®è²§å°å°åã®åã©ããã¡ã®èžè¡ç掻åãå¿æŽ ããŠããã2014幎ããã倧ããªãããããæ±ããŠããã«ãšããã¯éé
·ãªã㢠ãŒæŽ»åããåŒéããããèžè¡ã¯ãã®äººèªèº«ã®ãã®ã§ãããããªã®ã«ãã¢ãŒã㣠ã¹ãã¯åŸã
ã«ããŠãã®èžè¡ãã»ãã®äººã
ã«æ§ããªããã°ãããªããšãã矩 åæãèè² ããããŠããŸãã®ã§ãããã«ãšããã¯èªã£ããããã¢ãããšã£ãã èªåã¯äœè
ãªã®ããç§ã¯ãããç¥ãããã£ãã®ã§ãã
以æ¥ããã«ãšããã¯ãã³ããŒã ã䜿ã£ãŠ9ç·šã®å°èª¬ãçºè¡šããäžæ¹ ã§ãäŒæ¥ã®ãããã察象ã«ããå£äœãã°ã¬ã€ã¹ããªãŒã»ãªãïŒåªé
ã«çããã ãç«ã¡äžããã圌ãããªãŒããŒã·ããããšãäŒæ¥ã®æåãã人ã
ã«ãããªã åãäžããæ¹åãžãšå°ãããã®å£äœã ããå°å¥³æ代ã«æ¥œå£å
šäœããªãŒãã ãããšã®ããç§ããäŒæ¥ã®ããããšçŽæ¥è©±ãåã£ãŠãäœçŸäººãã®äººã
ãæ£ ããæ¹åãžå°ãããã®æå©ããããããã«ãªããŸããã人ã
ãæ¬åœã®èªå ãèŠã€ããŠãèªåã®å¯èœæ§ãæ倧éã«æŽ»ãããããã«å¿æŽãããã®ã§ãã ãããããããããããªæå³ã§ç§ãæããèžè¡ãéããŠããŠããããšã ã ãã§ãã
ãã«ãšããã¯ä»ãæ¯æ¥ãã¢ãã匟ããŠãããå人çã«æãå
¥ãã®ã ãæ
åäºæ¥ã®ããã®ã³ã³ãµãŒãã§åŸæã®æ²ç®ãæ«é²ãã倧奜ããªé³æ¥œã ããããå°œããããšã®ãªãææŠã楜ããã§ãããæè¿ã®ãã«ãšããã«ãšã£ ãŠãæŒå¥ãšã¯èŽè¡ãšã®çµãç¯ãããšãèŽè¡ãšã²ãšã€ã«ãªãããäºãã«å¿è±ã ã«ãªãããã«ãšããã¯èªãããæŒå¥ãããã³ã«ããã®æ²ã®æ°ããåŽé¢ãæ°ãã ãã¥ã¢ã³ã¹ã以åã¯ç解ã§ããªãã£ãæ°ããè¡šçŸæ¹æ³ãçºèŠããŸãã人㯠ãã€ã ã£ãŠæé·ãç¶ããããšãã§ããã®ã§ããããããæ¯ãåŒããšãæåŸã® ç¬éãŸã§ãã
36 A PALM ARTS Prodigies
KAHI CHING Artist
Before he was old enough to wield a pencil or paintbrush, Kahi Ching was interpreting the world around him with an artistâs eye. âI was drawing things in the sand. I would draw with burnt wood or carve into a potato with my fingernails,â he says. At 5 years old, he began to collect treasures from the beach fronting his KÄneâohe homeâsea glass, driftwood, glass bottles, rocks, and wood scrapsâ arranging them neatly and sketching what he saw.
As he grew, Chingâs drawings became more intricate. In grade school, he struggled with dyslexia, and making art allowed him to express what words could not. âDrawing and painting, that was my language, and that is still my language today,â he says. He would sit on the beach and study the sky, the ocean currents, and the texture of sand. He spent hours contemplating the journey taken by a piece of wood or sea glass in order to translate every detail into his art, to tell the story of the object through the grain of the weathered wood or the shininess of the glass. âI pay attention to everything,â he says. âCuriosity is the best inspiration for finding the truth and the beauty of the cosmos.â
At 11 years old, Ching created his first oil painting, a seascape, which became his first piece to sell. A breakout student of the gifted art program at Castle High School, he was painting sets for the theater department and putting up murals on the schoolâs walls. At 18 years old, he won a national arts contest with his pencil drawing, Curios. The prize included a scholarship to the Rudolph Schaeffer School of Design in San Francisco, where he says, âThe experiences of talking story and riding the BART did as much to expand my thinking as art school.â
ã«ãã»ãã³ãã ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ã
ãŸã éçãçµµçãæ¡ãåãããã«ãã»ãã³ããã¯èžè¡å®¶ã®ãŸãªããã§ãŸãã ã®äžçãèŠãŠããããç ã®äžã«ããããªçµµãæããŠããŸãããæšã®çããã ã§çµµãæãããããããããã®è¡šé¢ãçªã§åœ«ã£ãããããŠããããã§ããã5 æ³ã®é ã«ã¯ã«ããªãã®èªå®
åã®ããŒãã§å®æ¢ããã¯ãããŠãããã·ãŒã°ã©ã¹ ïŒæ³¢ã«æŽãããã¬ã©ã¹ã®ãããïŒãæµæšã空ãç¶ãç³ãæšçãªã©ããããã«äžŠ ã¹ãããç®ã«æ ããã®ãã¹ã±ããããŠããã
æé·ããã«ã€ãããã³ããã®çµµã¯ç²ŸçŽ°ã«ãªã£ãŠãã£ããå°åŠæ ¡ã§ã¯å€± èªçã§èŠåŽããªãããèšèã§ã¯è¡šçŸã§ããªããã®ãã¢ãŒããšããŠããã¡ã« ããããæãããšãåã®èšèã§ãããä»ã§ãããã§ãããšããã³ããã¯èªããç æµã«è
°ãäžãããŠã空ã®ããããæµ·ã®æœ®ã®æµããç ã®ç²åã芳å¯ãããæµæš ãã·ãŒã°ã©ã¹ãã©ããªæ
ãçµãŠããã«ãã©ãçããã®ããäœæéãæãã å·¡ãããããããŠãæ¥ãæ³¢ã«ãããããŠä¹ŸããæšçããŒããããšèŒãã¬ã©ã¹ã® ããããããã®é¢šåããéããŠäŒããç©èªã®ãã¹ãŠãã¢ãŒããšããŠè¡šçŸãã ã®ã ããåã¯ã©ããªçŽ°ããããšã泚æããŠèŠãŸãã奜å¥å¿ããããå®å®ã®çå® ãšçŸãããèŠã€ããéµãªã®ã§ãã
11æ³ã®ãšãããã³ããã¯æåã®æ²¹åœ©ç»ãæããããæµ·ã®é¢šæ¯ãæã ããã®äœåã¯ã圌ãæåã«å£²ã£ãäœåã«ãªã£ãããã£ãã¹ã«é«æ ¡ã®è±æçŸ è¡ããã°ã©ã ã®ãªãã§ãæããåºãååšã ã£ããã³ããã¯ãæŒåéšã®ãã ã®èå°èæ¯ããåŠæ ¡ã®å£ã®å£ç»ãæããã18æ³ã®ãšãã«ã¯ããCuriosïŒéªš è£åã»é¢šå€ãããªäººïŒããšé¡ããéçç»ã§å
šåœçãªã¢ãŒãã³ã³ãã¹ãã«åª åãããè³åã«ã¯ãµã³ãã©ã³ã·ã¹ã³ã«ããã«ãã«ãã»ã·ã§ã€ãã¡ãŒã»ã¹ã¯ãŒ ã«ã»ãªãã»ãã¶ã€ã³ã®å¥šåŠéãå«ãŸããŠãããããã§ã人ã
ãšèªãåã£ãã ãšãBARTïŒãµã³ãã©ã³ã·ã¹ã³ã®ééïŒã«ä¹ãäžãããŠèŠèããããšããçŸè¡ åŠæ ¡ã§åŠãã ããšãšåããããã«åã®èŠéãåºããŠãããŸããã
PALM 38 A ARTS Prodigies
As a child, artist Kahi Ching would spend hours contemplating the journey taken by a piece of wood or sea glass in order to translate every detail into his art.
Today, Chingâs many artistic pursuits include mastering the art of bonsai in his home garden in Honolulu.
Over the course of his life, Chingâs art practice has taken many forms, each an extension of his ongoing quest to capture âthe beautiful lines all around us,â he says. He has experimented with sign painting, ceramics, wood sculpture, concrete furniture, and public art, and for a time he ran his own gallery. His latest endeavors include creating a 12-foot-tall glass, metal, and stone sculpture for Hilo Union School, mastering the Japanese art of bonsai in his home garden, and experimenting with music. After he finished designing and painting a mural at Turtle Bay Resort in 2020, Ching was asked if he played guitar. Always up for a challenge, he wrote his first song on the spot and played it for a small audience.
On the cusp of turning 60, Ching regards getting older as an opportunity to see more of what he calls âthe linework or heartbeat of lifeâ and to mentor other aspiring artists. âNow Iâm learning how to be an elder, so I can share the wonder of what isâlook at that color, listen to that song, smell that fragrance!â he says. âIâm talking story with my children and my neighbors and learning about other cultures. All of this is in the linework of my art.â
ãã³ããã¯ããåããåãå·»ãçŸããç·ãã¡ã ããšãããããã«ãããŸããŸãªè¡šçŸæ¹æ³ãè©Šã¿ãŠã ããçæ¿ãé¶èžã圫å»ãã³ã³ã¯ãªãŒã補家å
·ããã㊠ãããªãã¯ã»ã¢ãŒããªã©ã«ææŠããèªåã®ã®ã£ã©ãªãŒ ãæã£ãŠããææããããææ°äœã®ã²ãšã€ã¯ãããã» ãŠããªã³ã»ã¹ã¯ãŒã«ã®ããã«å¶äœããã¬ã©ã¹ãšé å±ãç³ãçŽ æãšããé«ã4ã¡ãŒãã«è¿ã圫å»ã ãèª å®
ã®åºã§ã¯çæ œãæãããå®éšçã«é³æ¥œãšã®ã³ã© ãã¬ãŒã·ã§ã³ãè¡ã£ãŠããã2020幎ãã¿ãŒãã«ã»ã ã€ã»ãªãŸãŒãã®ãã¥ãŒã©ã«ãå®æããããã³ããã¯ã ã®ã¿ãŒã匟ãããšå°ãããããææŠã¯åããŠç«ãã ã«ããããªããã³ããã¯ããã®å Žã§æåã®æ²ãã€ã ããæ°äººã®èŠ³å®¢ã®åã§æŒå¥ããããã ã
ãŸããªã60æ³ã®èªçæ¥ãè¿ãããã³ããã¯ã æ³ãéããŠããããšãã圌ããçåœã®æãç·ç»ã㟠ãã¯éŒåããšåŒã¶ãã®ãããã«ããããéè¿ã§èŠ ã€ããæ©äŒããããŠãéå¿ããµããã»ãã®ã¢ãŒã㣠ã¹ããã¡ãå¿æŽããŠããããã®æ©äŒã ãšåããšã ãŠãããããã®äžã®ãã°ããããäŒããããé·èã« ãªããããã«ãåŠãã§ãããšããã§ãããã®è²ããã® é³æ¥œããã®éŠãã®ãã°ãããïŒããã®é©ç°ãåãã¡ åãããã®ã§ãããšãã³ããã¯ç¶ããããåã©ããã¡ ãè¿æã®äººã
ãšèªãããç¥ããªãæåãåŠãã§ã ãŸãããã®ãã¹ãŠããåã®ã¢ãŒãã®ç·ç»ã«æ ãåºã ããã®ã§ãã
PALM 40 A
ARTS Prodigies
CUL TU RE of
place that A sense
C æå PALM
fosters the human spirit
43
A Big Deal
44 PALM C CULTURE Big Trees åç = ã¡ãŒã¬ã³ã»ã¹ãºã å°ããªäžæ©ã倧ããªå€å æ = ãã·ã§ã«ã»ãããŒããŒã»ãŽã¡ã³ã»ãã€ã¯ã³ã»ãã€ã¯
Text by Michelle Broder Van Dyke
Images by Meagan Suzuki
Local and national conservation initiatives work in tandem to protect the native ecosystem along MÄnoa Cliff Trail.
ããã¢ã®æ£®ã®ãšã³ã·ã¹ãã ãå®ããããå°å
ã®ãã©ã³ãã£ã¢ãã¡ãšå
šåœçãªç° å¢ä¿å
šã€ãã·ã¢ãã£ããåãåãããŠæŽ»åããŠããŸãã
Translation by Mikiko Shirakura
翻蚳 = çœåäžçŽå
ì§ì ë° êµê° 볎ì í¹ì í 묞ì íŽê²°ê°ë€ì ì€ ìí ì°ëŠŒ ìíê³ì ë°ì ì ì§ìíêž° ìíŽ í ë ¥í©ëë€.
Hiking MÄnoa Cliff Trail on Puâu âÅhiâa, commonly known as Mount Tantalus, I am on a mission this summer morning to see a 33-foot-tall kokiâo keâokeâo, an endemic white hibiscus tree. While hibiscuses are often bushes, this type of hibiscus grows to be a big tree, and the biggest one ever identified grows along this trail.
I walk through a thicket of invasive bamboo before entering a wet tropical forest populated by native âÅhiâa âÄhihi and smaller kokiâo keâokeâo as well as alien ginger flowers and palm grass. After 45 minutes, I reach the fence and gate at the edge of a restoration
å€ã®æãç§ã¯ããç®çã®ããã«ããŠãªãã¢å±±ïŒé称ãã¿ã³ã¿ã©ã¹ã®äžãïŒã®ãã㢠ã¯ãªãã»ãã¬ã€ã«ãæ©ããŠããããã®ç®çãšã¯ãé«ã33ãã£ãŒãïŒçŽ10ã¡ãŒãã«ïŒ ã«ããªãã³ããªã»ã±ãªã±ãªãšãããã¯ã€åºæã®ãã¯ã€ãã»ãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã®æšãèŠ ãããšã§ããããã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã®å€ãã¯äœæšã ãããã®åžå°ãªãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã¯å·šæš¹ ã«æé·ããããããŠããããŸã§ã«ç¢ºèªãããäžã§æ倧ã®åäœãããã®ãã¬ã€ã«æ²¿ ãã«çè²ããŠããã®ã ã
å€æ¥çš®ã®ç«¹ã®èã¿ãæãã湿最ãªç±åž¯æã«å
¥ã£ãŠãããããã«ã¯ããã¯ã€ ã®è±æšãªãŒãã¢ã»ã¢ãŒãããã¯ãããããèã®äœãã³ããªã»ã±ãªã±ãªãå€æ¥çš®ã® ãžã³ãžã£ãŒãã©ã¯ãŒãããŒã ã°ã©ã¹ãªã©ãçè²ããŠãããããã«45åã»ã©æ©ã
46 PALM C CULTURE Big Trees
The MÄnoa Cliff Restoration Project was launched in 2005 after Mashuri Waite, a botanist who earned his doctorate from the University of Hawaiâi at MÄnoa, received a state permit to work on restoring a six-acre portion of the native forest at the juncture of MÄnoa Cliff Trail, Puâu âÅhiâa Trail, and Pauoa Flats Trail. Waite, who is hiking barefoot in the mud when we meet at the restoration site, says he picked this spot because of the native plants still surviving here and because of its proximity to urban Honolulu. Every Sunday, at least a dozen volunteers gather on the mountain to pull alien weeds and cut down invasive trees in order to help the slower growing native plants flourish.
Walking through the area, there are dozens of kokiâo keâokeâo, but Waite and Sebastian Marquez, a horticulturist who has been volunteering here since 2010, lead me directly to the biggest one of all. This tree was nominated by a Hawaiâi resident and submitted to the National Register of Champion Trees, a competition started in 1940 by the nonprofit American Forests to locate the biggest treeâbased on height, circumference, and crown spreadâof each tree species in the United States. Hawaiâi has been competing since 2011, and champions have been crowned for 18 of the stateâs 21 eligible trees. Locals are encouraged to keep looking for champion trees among the elusive aâe, wauke, and kokiâo âula, a red hibiscus.
ãšããããã¢ã¯ãªã埩å
ãããžã§ã¯ããã®ãã©ã³ãã£ã¢ã管çããåºåã«çããã
å¢çã«ã¯ãã§ã³ã¹ããããã²ãŒãããäžã«å
¥ããšãããã¯ãŸãã«åšæ¥æ€ç©ã®å® 庫ãããã«çè²ããæ€ç©ã®å€ãã¯ãäžçã§ããã«ãããªãåºæçš®ã ããŸãã§å¥ã® æ代ã®ãã©ããéãå Žæã«è¿·ã蟌ãã ãã®ããã ã£ãã
ããã¢ã¯ãªã埩å
ãããžã§ã¯ãã¯ããã¯ã€å€§åŠããã¢æ ¡ã§å士å·ãååŸã ãæ€ç©åŠè
ã®ãã·ã¥ãªã»ãŠã§ã€ãããããå·ãã掻åã®èš±å¯ãåŸãŠ2005幎㫠ç«ã¡äžãããã®ã§ãããã¢ã¯ãªãã»ãã¬ã€ã«ãããŠãªãã¢ã»ãã¬ã€ã«ãããŠãªã¢ã»ãã© ããã»ãã¬ã€ã«ãšãã3ã€ã®ãã¬ã€ã«ãã¶ã€ããå°ç¹ã«åºããåçæã®äžéšã6 ãšãŒã«ãŒïŒçŽ2.4ãã¯ã¿ãŒã«ïŒã»ã©ã®åºç»ã®æ€ç埩å
ã«åãçµãã§ããããŠã§ã€ ãããã¯ã裞足ã§ã¬ããã¿ãæ©ããªããããã®å Žæãéžãã çç±ã¯ããŸã åšæ¥ çš®ãèªçããŠããããšãšãããã«ã«ã®åžè¡å°ã«è¿ãããã ãšèªã£ãŠããããæ¯é± æ¥ææ¥ãå°ãªããšãåæ°äººã®ãã©ã³ãã£ã¢ãå±±ã«éãŸããå€æ¥çš®ã®èãæãã ããçæ
ç³»ã«åœ±é¿ãåãŒãå€æ¥ã®æšã
ãäŒæ¡ãããããŠãå€æ¥çš®ãããæé·ã® é
ãåšæ¥æ€ç©ãç¹èããã®ãå©ããŠããã
åºç»å
ãæ©ããšããã¯ã€åçã®çœããã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ãã³ããªã»ã±ãªãäœåæ¬ ãèŠãããšãã§ããããããŠãæ倧ã®åäœãçè²ããŠããå ŽæãŸã§ã¯ã2010幎 ããããã§ãã©ã³ãã£ã¢æŽ»åãããŠããåèžå®¶ã®ã»ãã¹ãã£ã³ã»ãã«ã±ã¹ãããš ãŠã§ã€ããããçŽæ¥æ¡å
ããŠãããããã®ãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã®å·šæšã¯ããã¯ã€äœæ°ã® æšèŠã§ãå
šç±³å·šæš¹ç»é²ïŒNational Register of Champion TreesïŒããšãã ããã°ã©ã ã«åœå
æ倧ã®æš¹æšæšæ¬ãšããŠç»é²ãããŠããããã®ããã°ã©ã ã¯ã éå¶å©å£äœã¢ã¡ãªã«ã³ã»ãã©ã¬ã¹ããã暹皮å¥ã«ç±³åœæ倧ã®å·šæš¹ãç¹å®ããã ãã«1940幎ã«éå§ãããã®ã§ãæš¹é«ãåšé·ãæš¹å ã®åºãããè©äŸ¡åºæºãšããŠã ãããã¯ã€ã¯2011幎ãããã®ããã°ã©ã ã«åå ããŠããã察象ãšãªã21ã®æš¹ çš®ã®ãã¡18çš®ã§ãã£ã³ããªã³ãç²åŸããŠãããã¢ãšãã¯ãŠã±ãèµ€ããã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ area maintained by volunteers with the MÄnoa Cliff Restoration Project. Stepping inside, native plants abound; I feel like Iâm entering a different time and place, as many of these plants are found nowhere else in the world.
48 PALM C CULTURE Big Trees
Along with protecting the areaâs native hibiscus trees, the conservation work of the MÄnoa Cliff Restoration Project ultimately helps all the native plants and animals in the forest.
The white hibiscus tree looming before me has a thick, gnarly trunk brimming with endemic ferns, mosses, lichens, and bugs. Itâs so large that itâs impossible to take it all in from one view. I find myself trying to delicately walk around it, as there are other native species planted in the understory. Its many outstretched branches spread up into the sky and blend into several adjacent hibiscus trees, forming a canopy 27 feet wide. Like a temple, the tree invites us to gather beneath its high ceilings. According to Waite, records that were kept of the area starting in the 1950s show that this hibiscus is at least 70 years old. The flowers have delicate white petals and pink stamens, and they omit a subtle and sweet fragrance.
Sixteen years ago, when volunteers first started working in the area, the forest understory was thick with invasive plants, choking out much of the native flora, including these hibiscuses. âIn those early days, it was just a matter of weeding, weeding, and then coming across a native plant,â Marquez says. The fence was installed in 2009 to keep feral pigs from digging up native ferns and hibiscus seedlings before they have a chance to grow strong. âOnce you get some protection and some work, the plants will come back,â Marquez says. âYou can make a difference.â
The hibiscus grows from seed, but to help it flourish, the volunteers also propagate hibiscus from the branches of older plants. While the hibiscus blooms year round, Waite says there is usually a âbig pulse of flowersâ that starts at the end of August. âWhen they are in full flower, the canopies are just covered with white flowers. Itâs dramatically different,â Marquez says of this late summer display. âIf you had a drone and flew up a couple hundred feet, youâd see this green forest full of white dots, and all of the white dots are hibiscus trees.â
Along with helping the hibiscus and the plethora of plants and bugs it hosts, the conservation work of the MÄnoa Cliff Restoration Project ultimately helps all the native plants and animals in the forest. âOnce we get the canopy and ferns established, weâll see more native plants coming up,â Marquez says. Using historical records, volunteers have also identified and planted native flora that had vanished from the area, like the kokiâo âula. Today the reserve is home to as many as 125 native plant species.
Every Sunday, volunteers are encouraged by rare endemic honeycreeper birds, like the crimson âapapane and yellow-green âamakihi, singing in the trees. âWeâve seen how our actions have made a benefit for these plants, so itâs nice to think maybe thatâs why âamakihi and âapapane are here,â Marquez says. âWe hear them all the time.â
ã®äžçš®ã³ããªã»ãŠã©ãªã©ã¯èŠã€ãã«ããçš®ã§ãããããä»åŸããã£ã³ããªã³ æš¹æšãæ¢ãç¶ããããå°å
ã®äººã
ã«ååãæ±ããŠããã
ç§ã®ç®ã®åã«ãã³ãç«ã€ãã¯ã€ãã»ãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã®å€ªãç¯ããç«ã£ã å¹¹ã¯ããã¯ã€åºæçš®ã®ã·ããã³ã±ãå°è¡£é¡ã§èŠãããè«ãã¡ã®äœåŠãšãªã£ãŠ ãããã²ãšç®ã§ã¯å
šè²ãã€ãããªãã»ã©ã®å€§ããã ãäžå±€éšã«ã¯ã»ãã®åš æ¥çš®ãæ€ããããŠãããããããããèžãŸãªãããã«æ°ãã€ããªãããã® æšã®åšããæ©ããŠã¿ããããããã®æã空ã«åãã£ãŠåºãããåšãã®ã»ãã® ãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ãšäºãã«æãéãåããå¹
27ãã£ãŒãïŒ8ã¡ãŒãã«ïŒã»ã©ã®æ å ã圢æããŠããããã®å·šæšã¯ããŸãã§ç€Œæå ã®ããã«ãé«ã倩äºã§èŠãã ã空éãžãšç§ãã¡ãæãå
¥ããã1950幎代ããå§ãŸããã®å°åã®èšé²ã« ããã°ããã®ãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã¯å°ãªããšã暹霢70幎ã«ãªããšãããè±ã¯ç¹çŽ°ãª çœãè±åŒãšãã³ã¯ã®éãã¹ãæã¡ãã»ã®ãã«çãéŠããæŒãããã
16幎åããã©ã³ãã£ã¢ããã®å°åã§æŽ»åãå§ããåœæã森ã®äžå±€éš ã«ã¯äŸµç¥çãªå€æ¥çš®ãçãèãããã®ãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ãå«ãåšæ¥æ€ç©ã®å€ ãã¯å§¿ãæ¶ããŠããŸã£ãŠãããããã®é ã¯ãèããããäž»ãªä»äºã§ããããã ãããšå€æ¥çš®ãæããŠãã£ãŠãããããããœã€ããšèªçããåšæ¥çš®ã«åºäŒã ãããšããæãã§ããããšãã«ã±ã¹ããã2009幎ã«ã¯ãåšæ¥ã®ã·ãããã€ã ã¹ã«ã¹ã®èæšããã£ããæé·ããåã«éçã®è±ãæãèµ·ãããŠããŸãã®ã é²ãããããã§ã³ã¹ãèšçœ®ãããããã«ã±ã¹ããã¯èšãããããçšåºŠã®ä¿è·ãš æå
¥ããè¡ãã°ãæ€ç©ã¯æ»ã£ãŠããŸããç§ãã¡ãå€åãçã¿åºãããšã㧠ãããã§ããã
ãã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã¯çš®ããè²ã€ããç¹æ®ãä¿ãããã«ããã©ã³ãã£ã¢ã®æ ã§å€ãæ ªã®æããå¢ããåãçµã¿ãé²ããŠããããã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã¯äžå¹Žäžè± ãå²ããããããŠã§ã€ãããã«ãããšãéåžž8æã®çµããé ãããéè±ã®å€§ ããªæ³¢ããæ¥ãã®ã ãšãããæ©å€ã®æçæã«ã€ããŠãã«ã±ã¹ããã¯ããèª ã£ãŠãããããæºéã«ãªããšãæå ã¯çœãè±ã§åãã€ããããŸããæ®æ®µãšã¯ã ãããéããŸããããããŒã³ã§æ°åã¡ãŒãã«äžç©ºããæ®åœ±ããã°ãç·ã®æ£® ã«ããããã®çœãç¹ãèŠããã§ãããããã®ç¹ããã¹ãŠããã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ã®æš ãªãã§ãã
ããã¢ã¯ãªã埩å
ãããžã§ã¯ãã®ä¿è·æŽ»åã¯ããã€ãã¹ã«ã¹ãšãã㫠宿ãå€çš®å€æ§ãªæ€ç©ãè«ãã¡ãå®ãã ãã§ãªããçµæãšããŠã森ã«çæ¯ã ããã¹ãŠã®åšæ¥ã®åæ€ç©ãä¿è·ããããšã«ãã€ãªãã£ãŠããããæå ãã㣠ãããšåœ¢æãããã·ããç¹æ®ããã°ãããã«å€ãã®åšæ¥æ€ç©ãèŠãããã ãã«ãªãã§ãããããšãã«ã±ã¹ããããã©ã³ãã£ã¢ãã¡ã¯éå»ã®èšé²ãé Œã ã«ãã³ããªã»ãŠã©ãã¯ãããšãããã®å°åããæ¶ããŠããŸã£ãåšæ¥çš®ã®ç¹å® ãšæ€ãã€ããè¡ã£ãŠãããçŸæç¹ã§ãã®ä¿è·åºã«ã¯125çš®ãã®åšæ¥æ€ç©ã çè²ããŠããã
æ·±çŽ
è²ã®ã¢ããããé»ç·è²ã®ã¢ããããªã©ãæšã
ã®æã®äžããæ声 ãèãããŠããããã¯ã€åºæã®åžå°ãªããããªãã¡ã®å§¿ã¯ãæ¯é±æ¥ææ¥ã«ã ãã蚪ãããã©ã³ãã£ã¢ãã¡ã®å±ã¿ã«ãªã£ãŠããããã«ã±ã¹ããã¯èšãããç§ ãã¡ã®æŽ»åããã®å°ã®æ€ç©ã«ã©ã®ãããªå©çããããããŠããã®ãããç® ã«èŠãã圢ã§çŸããŠããŸãããã¢ããããã¢ããããéãŸã£ãŠããããã«ãª ã£ãã®ããããããç§ãã¡ã®æŽ»åã®ææã§ããããããæããšå¬ããã§ããã ä»ã§ã¯ãããããªãã¡ã®ããããã絶ããèãããŠããŸããã
50 PALM C CULTURE Big Trees
The Genius of Place
èªç¶çã®å€©æã«åŠã¶
Text by Martha Cheng
æ = ããŒãµã»ãã§ã³
Images by John Hook
åç = ãžã§ã³ã»ããã¯
Learning ecologist Daniel Kinzer takes cues from natureâs elegant rhythms, patterns, and interconnections.
52 PALM C CULTURE Biomimicry
A biomimicry professionalâs annual walk around the perimeter of Oâahu reveals clues on how humanity can live in harmony with nature.
çäœæš¡å£ã®ç 究家ãæ¯å¹ŽæäŸã®æ©ããªã¢ã島調æ»ã§æ¢ãèªç¶ãšèª¿å ããŠçããããã«äººé¡ã«ã§ããããš
Translation by Akiko Shima
翻蚳 = 島æåžå
ì첎몚방Ʞì ì 묞ê°ê° ì€ìí ì¬ ì£Œë³ì ëìë€ë
ë©° ì¬ ì£Œë³ì "ì²ì¬ì±"ì ì°ŸìëŽ
ëë€.
By 2019, Daniel Kinzer had been to more than 70 countries. In the year prior, he spent two weeks in Antarctica as part of a National Geographic teaching fellowship, and then for a week, he studied island ecology at Isla EspÃritu Santo, just off the coast of Baja California Sur. He decided he wanted to explore Oâahu next, his home since 2016. âI wanted to really appreciate home in the ways that I was being invited to appreciate these
2019幎ãŸã§ã«ãããšã«ã»ãã³ã¶ãŒããã蚪ããåœã¯70ãåœä»¥äžã«ã®ãŒããæš å¹Žã¯ããã·ã§ãã«ãžãªã°ã©ãã£ãã¯ã®æè²ãã§ããŒã·ããã®äžç°ã§å極ã§2é± éãéãããåŸãããã«ãªãã©ã«ãã¢ã»ã¹ã«å·ã®æ²åã«ãããšã¹ããªãã¥ãµã³ã 島ã§ïŒé±éã島ã®çæ
ç³»ã調æ»ããããã³ã¶ãŒããã次ã«èª¿æ»ããããšæ±ºãã ã®ã¯åœŒã2016幎ããäœãã§ãããªã¢ã島ã ããã³ã¶ãŒããã¯ãäŸé Œãããå
ã
ã§ã®èª¿æ»ãšåãããã«ãåã®äœã島ã®é
åãæãäžããŠã¿ããã£ããã§ãã ãšããããããŠåœŒã¯æ©ãåºããããããã®èªå®
ãåºçºããŠè¥¿ãžåããããªã¢ã島
PALM 54 C CULTURE Biomimicry
other places,â he says. So he walked. He walked 140 miles around the perimeter of Oâahu for two weeks, setting off from his home in Makiki and heading west. He chose to walk during the Thanksgiving and Makahiki season, a Hawaiian festival honoring Lono, the god of agriculture, fertility, and peace. During ancient times, aliâi had circumnavigated the islands collecting offerings for Lono and assessing the health of the land and people.
Gratitude wasnât Kinzerâs only motivation. He also wanted to uncover what he calls the genius of places on Oâahu. âThe genius of a place is in its ability to hold the tension between resilience and transformation in a way that is typically inclusive and generous,â he says. âThe way everything is interconnected and fits together so elegantly, and how it adapts and evolves.â
Kinzer, previously the director at Punahouâs Luke Center for Public Service, had just finished a degree in biomimicry, the design of materials, structures, and systems that are modeled on biological entities and processes. He had also started working with Purple Maiâa, an organization dedicated to youth educational programs that combine modern technology and Hawaiian cultural values. He learned about âike kÅ«puna, ancestral Hawaiian knowledge, and was beginning to âthink about culture and community as a technology,â or how past traditions could provide solutions for the present.
There are many ways to explore an island, but Kinzer chose to stick to the shoreline.
âThereâs a lot of magic that happens in that intertidal zone,â he says. âThis is a place where life is going to be born. Itâs a nursery for sustaining our whole ocean.â But what surprised him was the way the urban environment met the natural world along the shore. On the southern side of the island, he saw âaeâo, the endangered Hawaiian stilt, in PaikÅ Lagoon in Kuliâouâou, and even along Puâuloa, or Pearl Harbor, and in small pockets of wetland right next to the power plant in Waipahu. On the leeward coast, he spotted monk seals huddled next to a houseless encampment at MÄâili Point, and near Waiâanae Coast Comprehensive Health Center, he saw numerous hawksbill and green sea turtles where a few streams feed into the ocean.
ã®åšãã2é±éãããŠæ©ããããã®è·é¢225ããããã®ããã«ãã³ã¶ãŒãã ã¯æè¬ç¥ãšãã¯ã€ã§ãã«ãããšåŒã°ããææãéžãã ããã«ããã¯èŸ²èã è±é¥ãå¹³åã®ç¥ãããããç¥ãå€ä»£ãã¯ã€ã®ãç¥ãã·ãŒãºã³ã§ããã®ææã« ã¢ãªã€ïŒçæïŒã島ãäžåšããŠãããžã®äŸç©ãéããåå°ãšäººã
ã®å¥åº·ç¶æ
ãè©äŸ¡ããŠããã
ãã³ã¶ãŒããããã®å³¶ã®èª¿æ»ãæãç«ã£ãçç±ã¯ç€Œãå°œããããšä»¥ å€ã«ããã£ãã圌ãããžãŒãã¢ã¹ã»ãªãã»ãã¬ã€ã¹ããšåŒã¶èªç¶ãçæ
ç³»ãã åŠã³ãæš¡å£ãããã€ãªããã¯ãªãŒïŒçäœæš¡å£ïŒã®æŠå¿µããªã¢ã島ã«èŠãåºã ãããšèããã®ã ã£ããããžãŒãã¢ã¹ã»ãªãã»ãã¬ã€ã¹ã¯èæ§ãšå€é©ã®éã® ç·åŒµé¢ä¿ãä¿ã€ããšãã§ããŸããããã¯äžè¬çã«ã¯å
æ¬çãã€å¯å®¹ãªãã® ã§ãç°å¢ã®å
šãŠãçžäºã«ç¹ãã£ãŠããŠèŠäºã«è£å®ãåãããããã©ã®ãã ã«é©å¿ãé²åããŠããããšããèªç¶ã«å£ã£ãèãæ¹ã§ãããšåœŒã¯èšãã
以åããããŠã¹ã¯ãŒã«ã®ã«ãŒã¯ã»ã³ã¿ãŒã»ãã©ãŒã»ãããªãã¯ãµãŒ ãã¹ã®æé·ãåãããã³ã¶ãŒããã¯ãã®é ããã€ãªããã¯ãªãŒã®åŠäœãå åŸããã°ããã ã£ããçç©ã®åªããæ©èœãèªç¶ã®ä»çµã¿ãåŠã³ãææãæ§ é ãã·ã¹ãã ã®èšèšã«çããåŠåã ãåæã«çŸä»£ã®ãã¯ãããžãŒãšãã¯ã€ã¢ ã³ã®æåç䟡å€èŠ³ãçãããéå°å¹Žæè²ããã°ã©ã ãããŒãã«ãã€ã¢ãã® ä»äºãå§ãã圌ã¯ãããã§ãã¯ã€ã¢ã³ã®å
ç¥ã®ç¥èãã€ã±ã¯ãããã«ã€ã㊠åŠãã ã以æ¥ãæåãšã³ãã¥ããã£ãäžã€ã®ãã¯ãããžãŒãšããŠæããéå» ã®äŒçµ±ãçŸåšã®åé¡ã®è§£æ±ºã«ã©ã圹ç«ãŠãããšãã§ãããã«ã€ããŠèã ãããã«ãªã£ãã
島ã調æ»ããããŸããŸãªæ¹æ³ãããäžã§ããã³ã¶ãŒããã¯æµ·å²žæ²¿ã ãæ©ãããšãéžãã ã圌ã¯ã磯ã§ã¯ããããã®äžæè°ãªçŸè±¡ãèµ·ããŸããã ãã¯çåœãçãŸããå Žæã§ããããã§è²ãŸãããã®ã¡ãæµ·ã®è±ããªçæ
ç³» ãæ¯ããŠããŸãããšèªãããã³ã¶ãŒããã«ãšã£ãŠé©ãã®çºèŠã¯ãéœåžç°å¢ãš èªç¶çã海岞ç·ã§äº€ããå
æ¯ã ã£ãã島ã®å岞ã§ã¯ã絶æ»
ã®å±æ©ã«çã㊠ãããã¯ã€åºæã®ã¯ããšãªã»ã€ã¿ã«ã·ã®ãã¢ãšãªãã®å§¿ãã¯ãªãªãŠãªãŠã®ã〠ã³ã©ã°ãŒã³ãã¯ã€ããã®çºé»æã®ããé£ã«ããããŠãã¢ïŒçç 湟ïŒæ²¿ãã®æ¹¿ å°ã®å
¥æ±ã§ç®ã«ããããªã¢ã島西海岞ãªãŒã¯ãŒãã®ãã€ãªãã€ã³ãã«ã¯ã㌠ã ã¬ã¹ã®ãã³ãæã®èã«çŸ€ãã£ãŠããã¢ã³ã¯ã¢ã¶ã©ã·ã®å§¿ããããã¯ã€ã¢ã ãšã³ãŒã¹ãç·åä¿å¥ã»ã³ã¿ãŒæšªã®æ¯æµãæµ·ã«æµã蟌ãæ²³å£ä»è¿ã«ã¯å€ã ã®ã¿ã€ãã€ãšã¢ãªãŠãã¬ã¡ãçæ¯ããŠããã
圌ã¯éççç©ã®è¡åãªãºã ãæã®æºã¡æ¬ ãã朮ã®å¹²æºã芳å¯ããã
å€ã¯ããŒãã«å¯è¢ãæ·ããŠå¯ãããã朮ã®æºã¡åŒãã«æ³šæããªããšæ¿¡ã㊠ç®ãèŠããããšããã£ããšããããèªç¶ã®æµãããªãºã ã®å€ããä¹±ãç¡èŠã ããŠã人éã®æ¥åžžç掻ãšã®é¢ããã 倱ãããŠããŸã£ãã®ã§ãããšãã³ã¶ãŒ ããã¯èšãããç§ãã¡ã®ã©ã€ãã¹ã¿ã€ã«ãèŠçŽããããèªç¶ãšèª¿åããæåã äœãåºãããšã¯ã§ããªãã§ããããïŒã
56 C CULTURE Biomimicry PALM
He observed the rhythms of wildlife, the moon phases, and the tides. Laying down his sleeping bag on the beach at night, he had to consider tidal cycles to avoid waking up soaked by the incoming sea. âSo many of natureâs flows and rhythms have been disrupted or ignored that theyâve become irrelevant to peopleâs daily lives,â Kinzer says. âWhat if we could design our lifestyle and create a culture that was more in tune with them?â
As an example, he points to muliwai, where streams meet the sea and where salt water and fresh water mix, which were a central component in the design of loko iâa (fishponds). Hawaiians built them on the shoreline and created âauwai kai (channels) to draw fish into the ponds. Itâs these sort of ancient technologies that Kinzer hopes to bring into the modern world. He draws on the idea of an urban ahupuaâa, âthe idea that the human-built environment can serve ecological function and purpose, that it can be regenerative to both people and place, like the more land-based architecture of the Native Hawaiians.â
Just before he set out on his first walk in 2019, he founded Pacific Blue Studios, which folds this philosophy and biomimicry principles into youth education as well as project design. Currently, heâs working with a team of youth to design, build, and install a sustainable moorings network in Hawaiâi, a project inspired by ECOncrete, an Israeli company that creates coastal infrastructure that works in concert with the sea. The companyâs recent pilot project at the Port of San Diego features concrete structures that mimic natural tide pools, offering protection against flooding while encouraging marine life.
ããã§åœŒã¯ã ãªã¯ã€ã®äŸãæãããã ãªã¯ã€ã¯å°å·ãæµ·ã«æµã蟌ã¿ã å¡©æ°Žãšæ·¡æ°Žã®æ··ããåãæ²³å£ã®ããšã§ãããã¯æãããã¯ã€ã®ãã³ã€ã¢ïŒé€ éæ± ïŒã®èšèšã«æ¬ ãããªããã®ã§ãã£ãããã¯ã€ã¢ã³ã®äººã
ã¯ãã³ã€ã¢ãæµ· 岞ã«å»ºèšããæ± ã«éãåŒã蟌ãããã®ã¢ãŠã¯ã€ã«ã€ãšåŒã°ããæ°Žè·¯ãäœã£ ãããã³ã¶ãŒãããçŸä»£ç€ŸäŒã§æ¡çšãããã®ã¯ããã®ãããªå€ä»£ã®ãã¯ãã ãžãŒã ã圌ã¯çŸä»£éœåžã«ããããã¢ããã¢ã¢ãã®æ§æ³ãæ²ããã人éãæ§ç¯ ããç°å¢ãçæ
åŠçãªæ©èœãšåœ¹ç®ãæããã人ãšèªç¶ç°å¢ã®äž¡æ¹ã«ãšã£ãŠ è² è·ãå°ãªããããããã¯ãŸãã«åå°ã®ç°å¢ã«é
æ
®ãããã€ãã£ããã¯ã€ã¢ ã³ã®å»ºç¯ã«å¯Ÿããèãæ¹ã§ãããã
2019幎ã®èª¿æ»ã«åºãå°ãåã«ã圌ã¯ãã·ãã£ãã¯ãã«ãŒã¹ã¿ãžãªã ç«ã¡äžããããã®ã¹ã¿ãžãªã§ã¯ãã®ææ³ãšçäœæš¡å£ã®åçãéå°å¹Žæè²ãš ãããžã§ã¯ãèšèšã«åã蟌ãã§ããã
çŸåšã圌ã¯è¥è
ã®ããŒã ãšååããŠãã¯ã€ã§ãµã¹ãã€ããã«ãªä¿çã ããã¯ãŒã¯ã®èšèšãæ§ç¯ãèšçœ®ãè¡ã£ãŠããããã®ãããžã§ã¯ãã¯ãæµ·æŽçæ
åŠçãããããªã³ããåæžãã枯ãããªãŒããªã©ã®æ²¿å²žã€ã³ãã©ã¹ãã©ã¯ã ã£ãŒãææããã€ã¹ã©ãšã«äŒæ¥ã®ECOncreteãããã³ããåŸãŠãããå瀟 ãæè¿ææãããã€ããããããžã§ã¯ãã§ã¯ãµã³ãã£ãšãŽæž¯ã«èªç¶ã®æœ®æº ãŸããæš¡å£ããã³ã³ã¯ãªãŒãæ§é ç©ãæ¡çšããæµ·æŽçç©ã®çæ
ç³»ãç¶æã ãªãã沿岞ã措氎ããå®ã£ãŠããã
ä»ããã³ã¶ãŒããã®ãªã¢ã島ãæ©ã調æ»ã¯æ¯å¹ŽæäŸã®è¡äºãšãªã£ãŠ ãããèªç¶ãšææãåºäŒãå Žæã®èŠ³å¯ãéããŠçŸä»£ã®åé¡ã®ãœãªã¥ãŒã·ã§ ã³ãèŠåºããããšãæåŸ
ãã圌ã¯ããèªãããç§ãã¡ã¯ãã¹ãŠãã³ã³ãã㌠ã«ããã欲æ±ã«é§ãããŸããã人çãã³ã³ãããŒã«ããããšã¯ã§ããŸããã
æ°åå€åããšã£ãŠããç§ãã¡ã¯å¶åŸ¡äžèœãªç°å¢ã§çããæºåãããªããŠã¯ ãªããŸãããæªç¥ã®ãã®ã絶ãéãªãå€åãå€åã«å¯Ÿå¿ããããã«ããã ãŠæµ·ã®çæ
ç³»ã®ããã«ã¯ã©ã®ãããªèšèšãããã°ãããèãå§ããªããŠã¯ ãªããªãæãããŠããã®ã§ããã
60 C CULTURE Biomimicry
PALM
Kinzer has now made the around-theisland walk an annual ritual, hoping to find answers to modern-day problems by observing places where wilderness and civilization meet. âWe want to control everything, and yet life is uncontrollable,â Kinzer says. âEspecially with climate change, we have to be ready to live an uncontrollable existence. We have to start thinking about how we design for the unknown. How do we design for constant change and fluctuations, how do we design for the ocean?â
âWe used to think there was a separation between the old way of doing things and the new way of doing things,â Kinzer says. âBut I think what weâre seeing emerge is an effective practice of looking at the so-called old way of doing things and translating it for today.â And Kinzer is one of the translatorsâthe past and present technologies mixing within him, like fresh water and salt water on the shoreline.
ã以åã¯æã®ããæ¹ãšæ°ããããæ¹ã«éãããæããŠããŸãããã§ã æè¿ã§ã¯å°ããã€ããããå
人ã®ç¥æµã®è§£éãæ·±ããå¹æçã«ä»ã«æŽ»ã ãåããåºãŠããŠããæ°ãããŸãããšèªããã³ã¶ãŒãããããã解éããã® ããã³ã¶ãŒããã®ä»äºã ã圌ã®é ã®äžã«æ··åšããéå»ãšçŸåšã®ãã¯ãããž ãŒã¯ãŸãã§æµ·å²žã§å
¥ãæ··ããæ·¡æ°Žãšå¡©æ°Žã®ããã ã
62 C CULTURE Biomimicry
PALM
DE SI GN
The
D PALM ãã¶ã€ã³
flourishing of
facilities creative 65 PALM D
Electric Light Orchestra
Text by Natalie Schack
66 PALM D DESIGN Jen Lewin æ = ãã¿ãªãŒã»ã·ã£ã㯠ãšã¬ã¯ããªãã¯ã©ã€ãã»ãªãŒã±ã¹ãã© åç = ãžã§ã³ã»ã«ãŠã£ã³ã»ã¹ã¿ãžãªæäŸ
Images courtesy of Jen Lewin Studio
Artist Jen Lewinâs luminous,
interactive public sculptures merge art, science, and play.
èžè¡ãšç§åŠãšéã³ãèåãããèžè¡å®¶ ãžã§ã³ã»ã«ãŠã£ã³ã®å
ãã€ã³ã¿ã©ã¯ãã£ã ãªãããªãã¯ã¢ãŒã
At 3,000 feet above the ocean on the volcanic slopes of HaleakalÄ, the clouds are at eye level and the ocean stretches out in a vast blue sheet of apparent tranquility. When the sun sinks below the cloud line, it sends its rays through the cumulus and stratus and cumulonimbus in glowing golden threads of brilliance, a stunning light show thatâs both earthly and unearthly. âIt was glorious,â says artist Jen Lewin of the spectacle visible from her childhood home in the pastoral upcountry of Kula, Maui. âAnd it happened every day.â
Returning as an adult to this quiet, powerful scene and witnessing the same explosions of light that captivated her in childhood, Lewin had a revelation. âOf course I make light art,â she laughs. âI spent my childhood looking at these beautiful, glowing, colorful displays.â
âLight artâ is a loose term for what Lewin creates. Her technical sculptures combine engineering, digital technology, and illumination, often in the form of public installations that encourage viewer participation and community engagement. The large-scale works combine Lewinâs passion for performance art as well as disciplines like construction and computer programming, a dichotomy sheâs been navigating her whole life.
æµ·æ914ã¡ãŒãã«ã®ãã¬ã¢ã«ã©ç«å±±ã®æé¢ããèŠ ãé²ã¯ç®ã®é«ãã«ãããæµ·ã¯åºå€§ãªéãã·ãŒãã åºããããã«ç©ããã ã倪éœãé²ã®äžãžãšæ²ããš ããç©é²ãšå±€é²ãšç©ä¹±é²ã®ééããããããé»é ã®ç³žã®ãããªå
ç·ãæŸã¡ã倩ã®ãã®ãšå°ã®ãã®ãšã ã€ããªãèŠäºãªå
ã®ã·ã§ãŒãç¹°ãåºãããããšãŠã ç¥ã
ããæ¯è²ã ã£ããããšããŠã€å³¶ã®ã¯ã©ãšããç§ æçãªç°èçºã§éããã幌å°æã®å®¶ããèŠããå
æ¯ã«ã€ããŠèžè¡å®¶ã®ãžã§ã³ã»ã«ãŠã£ã³ããã¯èªãã ããããæ¯æ¥èŠããã®ããã
倧人ã«ãªã£ãŠãã®éãã§ãã¯ãã«ãªã¹ããã ã«æ»ã£ãã«ãŠã£ã³ããã¯ãåäŸã®é ã«å¿ã奪ããã ãã®å
ã®ççºããµããã³ç®ã«ããå瀺ãåãããš ããããç§ãã©ã€ãã¢ãŒããäœãããã«ãªã£ãã®ã¯ã ãèªç¶ãªããšãããšåœŒå¥³ã¯ç¬ãããåäŸã®é ãããã ãªã«ã«ã©ãã«ã§çŸããå
ã®ã·ã§ãŒãèŠãŠéãã㊠ããã®ã ãããã
ã«ãŠã£ã³ããã®äœåã¯ã©ã€ãã¢ãŒããšããäž èšã§ã¯è¡šçŸããããªããæå·§ãåããã圌女ã®äœ åã«ã¯ãšã³ãžãã¢ãªã³ã°ãããžã¿ã«ãã¯ãããžãŒã ç
§ææè¡ã掻ããããŠããŠããã®å€ããã³ãã¥ãã ã£ã«æ ¹å·®ããã€ã³ã¿ã©ã¯ãã£ãã¢ãŒããšããŠå
Œ
±ç©º éã食ãã倧åã®äœåã«ã¯å¹Œãé ããã«ãŠã£ã³ã ãã®é¢å¿ãäºåãç¶ããŠããããã©ãŒãã³ã¹ã¢ãŒ ããžã®æ
ç±ãšçæ°ç³»ã®å»ºç¯ãã³ã³ãã¥ãŒã¿ãŒãã ã°ã©ãã³ã°ã®é åãæ··åšããã
å»åž«ã®ç¶èŠªãšæ¯ä»åž«ã®æ¯èŠªã«è²ãŠãããã« ãŠã£ã³ããã¯ãç¶èŠªã®èšºå¯åšå
·ã§éã¶ã®ãèžãã® ãåãããã奜ãã ã£ããšããã圌女ã¯å¹Œãé ãã
ìí°ì€íž Jen Lewinì ë°ê³ ìží°ëí°ëží
ì¡°ê°íì ìì , 곌í ë° ëìŽì ê²°í©ë
ìíì
ëë€.
Translation by Akiko Shima 翻蚳 = 島æåžå
68 D DESIGN Jen Lewin
Above, The Pool photographed by Ben Hicks in 2020 at the Asia Culture Center in Gwangju, South Korea. At top right and on opposite page, Andante and Helix photographed by Oriol Tarridas in 2021 in Doral, Florida.
Growing up with a physician father and a choreographer mother, Lewin was equally likely to be found dancing or fiddling with her fatherâs tools. She fell in love with theater from an early age, drawn to both performance and the technical aspects of backstage. As a university student, she sought a true liberal arts education, one that combined both art and science, and landed in the architecture department at the University of Colorado Boulder. During the technology boom of the â90s, she moved to Silicon Valley, where she found work as a creative director at a tech company. It was an amazing job, Lewin says, but it didnât nurture her skills and interests equally. âI realized I had kind of only achieved half of what I had set out to do,â she says.
Lewin is now based in New York City, where she creates highly technical public sculptures that have taken her all over the world. Recently, though, sheâs come full circle, beckoned back to the islands where her fascination with light and nature began. First, she brought her traveling, interactive artwork Aqueous to Kapolei Commons in West Oâahu as a temporary installation in the winter of 2018. Conceived as a sitespecific work for Burning Man 2017, the sculptureâs reflective, serpentine pathways mirror the sky during the day and light up at night, changing color as participants navigate its glowing contours after dark.
Then, âIolani School commissioned Lewinâs first permanent installation in Hawaiâi: Flow, a graceful, playful sculpture installed on the wall of the schoolâs Kosasa Performance Studios building in 2020. The sculpture looks like a wave made from the pipes of some futuristic organ, frozen in mid-undulation until it comes alive with the intervention of passersby. Place your hand beneath one of the sculptureâs 24 polycarbonate tubes and a sensor triggers a musical note and fills the tube with colored light. Hold your hand beneath another and you get a different color and tone. Move your hand back and forth beneath multiple pipes to activate a brilliant and ethereal orchestra of light and sound.
The more participants engage, the more tones and lights are triggered, and the more complex the show becomes. âItâs purposefulâhow you move through it, how it responds to you,â Lewin says. âItâs not telling you what to do, itâs allowing you to have a relationship with it.â
æŒåã«å€¢äžã«ãªããããã©ãŒãã³ã¹ãšèå°æè¡ã®äž¡æ¹ã«æ¹ãããã倧åŠã§ ã¯èžè¡ãšç§åŠãäž¡ç«ããããã«ãªãã©ã«ã¢ãŒãåŠç§ãéžã³ãã³ãã©ãå€§åŠ ãã«ããŒæ ¡ã®å»ºç¯åŠéšã«é²åŠããã90幎代ã®ãã¯ãããžãŒããŒã ã®é ã圌 女ã¯ã·ãªã³ã³ãã¬ãŒã«ç§»ãããã¯ãããžãŒäŒç€Ÿã®ã¯ãªãšã€ãã£ããã£ã¬ã¯ã¿ ãŒã®ä»äºã«å°±ãããããã¯ããããã®ããä»äºã ã£ãããã¹ãã«ã¯ç£šã㊠ãã圌女ã®èå³ãæºãããŠããããã®ã§ã¯ãªãã£ããã«ãŠã£ã³ããã¯ãããã ããšæã£ãŠããããšã®ååããéæã§ããŠããªãã£ãããšã«æ°ã¥ããã®ã ãšæ¯ãè¿ãã
ã«ãŠã£ã³ããã¯çŸåšãã¥ãŒãšãŒã¯ãæ ç¹ã«é«åºŠãªæè¡ã䜿ã£ããã ãªãã¯ã¢ãŒãã®å¶äœãããªããäžçäžãé£ã³åã£ãŠãããã ãæè¿ã¯åç¹ ã«ç«ã¡è¿ãã圌女ãåããŠå
ãšèªç¶ã«é
ãããããã¯ã€ã«æ»ã£ãŠããããŸã 2018幎ã®å¬ã«ã移ååŒã®ã€ã³ã¿ã©ã¯ãã£ãã¢ãŒããAqueousãã西ãªã¢ã ã®ã«ãã¬ã€ã³ã¢ã³ãºã«ä»®èšã®ã€ã³ã¹ã¿ã¬ãŒã·ã§ã³ãšããŠæã¡åž°ã£ããããšã ãšãããå·ã®ãã©ãã¯ããã¯ç æŒ ã§éå¬ãããå®éšéœåžåã¢ãŒãã€ãã³ãã ããŒãã³ã°ãã³2017ãã®ããã«äœãããäœåã ãåå°æ§ã®ããæ²ãããã ã£ãå°éã®ãããªãã£ã¹ãã¬ã€ã¯æŒéã«ã¯ç©ºãæ ãåºããå€ã«ã¯ã©ã€ãã¢ã ãããŠãã®äžã人ãæ©ããšè²ãå€ããã
ãã®åŸã2020幎ã«ã¯ãã¯ã€ã®ç§ç«æ ¡ã®ã€ãªã©ãã¹ã¯ãŒã«ããåã® åžžèšäœåã®å§èšãåãããæ ¡å
ã«ããã³ãµãµã»ããã©ãŒãã³ã¹ã»ã¹ã¿ãžãªã® 建ç©ã®å£ã«èšçœ®ãããåªçŸã§éã³å¿ã®ããã€ã³ã¿ã©ã¯ãã£ãã¢ãŒãã«ã¯ã ãããŒããšããã¿ã€ãã«ãä»ããããŠãããæ³¢ç¶ã«ããã£ãŠå
ãæªæ¥ã®ã〠ããªã«ã¬ã³ã®ãããªäœåã§ãããéæ¢ããããšæããšã次ã®äººãéã£ãŠçã è¿ã£ãããã«ãµããã³çŸããé³è²ãé¿ãã24æ¬ããããªã«ãŒãããŒã補㮠ãã¥ãŒãã®äžã«æãããããšã»ã³ãµãŒãåå¿ããŠé³ãå¥ã§ããã¥ãŒããæ§ ã
ãªè²ã«å
ãä»çµã¿ã ãè²ãšé³éã¯ãã¥ãŒãã«ãã£ãŠç°ãªãããã€ãã®äžã« 次ãã次ãžãšæãããããªãã移åããã°ãã«ã©ãã«ã§æ¥µããŠåªçŸãªå
ãš é³ã®ãªãŒã±ã¹ãã©ã楜ããããšãã§ããã
å€ãã®äººãåå ããã°ããã»ã©ãããããã®é³ãšã€ã«ãããŒã·ã§ã³ã éãªã£ãŠããè€éãªã·ã§ãŒãç¹ããªãããããªãã®åãã«ãã£ãŠåå¿ãå€ã ããããã«æå³ãããã®ããšã«ãŠã£ã³ããããã©ãããã°ãããæããŠã¯ãã ãªããã ããã¢ãŒããšããªãã ãã®é¢ä¿ãç¯ãããšãã§ããã®ãã
70 PALM D DESIGN Jen Lewin
Jen Lewin, new media and interactive light sculptor, photographed by Chip Kalback.
The installation is the first time Lewin has employed both sound and light at quite this level of interplay and interaction. Other elements of the workâcollaboration, community, engagement, and, always, lightâ are themes sheâs been exploring throughout her life and career, beginning with her days basking in the dazzling sunbeams above HaleakalÄ, Hawaiian for âhouse of the sun.â
âA lot of what I make comes from this desire to recreate what I see in nature, the way light is on a pool of water, how it streams through a cloud,â Lewin says. âThat magical experience of awe.â
ã«ãŠã£ã³ãããæãããã¢ãŒãã®äžã§ãé³ãšå
ããã㟠ã§èŠäºã«çžäºäœçšããã€ã³ã¿ã©ã¯ãã£ããªäœåã¯ãããåã㊠ã ã圌女ã®äœåã®ããŒããšãªã£ãŠããã³ã©ãã¬ãŒã·ã§ã³ãã³ãã¥ã ãã£ããšã³ã²ãŒãžã¡ã³ãããããŠåžžã«ãããå
ãã®èŠçŽ ã¯ã圌女ãç 涯ãšãã£ãªã¢ãéããŠæ¢æ±ããŠããããŒãã ããã®æ¢æ±ã¯ãã¯ã€ èªã§ã倪éœã®å®¶ããšããæå³ãæã€ãã¬ã¢ã«ã©ã®äžããéããŸã° ãã倪éœã®å
ç·ã济ã³ãŠããæ¥ã
ããå§ãŸã£ãŠããã
ãç§ã®äœåã®å€ãã¯ãç§ãèªç¶çã§ç®ã«ãããã®ãåçŸ ããããšããæãããçãŸããŠããã®ãããã¯æ°ŽããŸãã«åœã㣠ãŠããå
ã ã£ãããé²ã®äžãæµããå
ã ã£ããããã£ãšãããã»ã© æåçãªäœéšãããšã«ãŠã£ã³ããã¯èªãã
72 D DESIGN Jen Lewin PALM
A Nautical Niche
æµ·ã®äžã®ããã
Text by Mara Pyzel
æ = ãã©ã»ãã€ãŒã«
Images by John Hook
åç = ãžã§ã³ã»ããã¯
The niche craft of sailmaking requires diligence, practice, and, often, a personal bond between sailor and sailmaker.
74 PALM D
DESIGN Sailmakers
Sailmaking is an age-old craft, but itâs far from a dying art.
ã»ã€ã«ã¡ã€ãã³ã°ã¯ãå€ãããäŒãããä»ãªã çãç¶ããŠããæè¡ã§ãã
Translation by Tamara Usono 翻蚳 = é·œéç è¯
ííŽì ì ì€ëë êž°ì ìŽì§ë§ ì íŽ
íë ìì 곌ë ê±°ëŠ¬ê° ë©ëë€.
In the sailmaking and rigging industry, business is often conducted outside the confines of a traditional office setting. For Larry Stenek and Marc Barra of Ullman Sails Hawaiâi and Art Nelson Sailmaker, this holds true: work meetings are anything but traditional. They take place as casual, dockside chats and run-ins at the harbor, or on afternoon sails with a clientâs crew. Armed with valuable feedback from out in the field, the master sailmakers return to their factory in Kalihi, where they craft custom rigging and sails tailored to Hawaiâiâs unique clientele and weather.
ãšããã®ã»ã€ã«ã玢å
·å¶äœã®æ¥çã§ã¯ãä»äºã®å€ãã¯ãªãã£ã¹ã®å€ã§è¡ãããã
ããŠã«ãã³ã»ã»ã€ã«ãºã»ãã¯ã€ïŒã¢ãŒãã»ãã«ãœã³ã»ã»ã€ã«ã¡ãŒã«ãŒãã®ã©ãªãŒã»ã¹ ãããã¯ãããšããŒã¯ã»ãã©ããã«ãšã£ãŠãåæ§ã§ãåè«ãäŒè°ã¯å±å
ã§ã¯ãª ããå é ã§ã®ãªã«ããªãäŒè©±ã枯ã§ã®ãããšãããããã¯é¡§å®¢ã®ã¯ã«ãŒãšåºã ããååŸã®ã»ãŒãªã³ã°ãšãã£ãå Žã§é²ããçç·Žã®ã»ã€ã«ã¡ãŒã«ãŒã§ããäºäºº ã¯ããããã£ãå Žã§åŸã貎éãªãã£ãŒãããã¯ãããã«ã«ã®ã«ãªãå°åºã«ãã å·¥æ¿ã«æã¡åž°ãããã¯ã€ç¬ç¹ã®æ°åãšé¡§å®¢ãã¡ã®ããŒãºã«åãããã«ã¹ã¿ã 㮠玢å
·ãã»ã€ã«å¶äœã«æŽ»ãããŠããã
PALM 76 D DESIGN Sailmakers
Sailmakers rely on their in-depth understanding of materials, regional weather patterns, and the sport of sailing itself to craft the best sail possible for clients.
The best sailmakers are perfectionists who rely on this hands-on experience and meticulous observation. Stitching the right sail to optimize a boatâs performance requires diligence, practice, and ample communicationâ the kind that can only come from establishing trust and a personal bond between sailor and sailmaker. âItâs that personal aspect,â Barra says. âThe sailing community is a little old school in that way.â
Barra and Stenek know this because they are both sailors too, having inherited their seafaring enthusiasm while growing up in California. As a kid, Barraâs grandfather would set him loose on a small boat in North San Diego Bay, tethered to the safety of the dock by a 50-foot line. His interest in sail cuts and rigging set-ups grew while crewing with older sailors, including worldrenowned sailors and sailmakers Mark Reynolds and George Szabo. They all became his mentors, teaching him to cut, craft, and stitch. âWe would store scraps of material and tools in the old refrigerators at the bar, which still had the labels for gin and vodka and rum,â Barra says with a laugh, recalling the makeshift storage spaces at the restaurant-turned-sail loft where he cut his first canvas.
For Stenek, too, sailmaking was part of his natural progression as a sailor. Early on in his sailing career, he was faced with a hard truth: âIf you wanted to keep sailing in the â60s and â70s and were not independently wealthy, you had to work in the industry,â he says. In 1972, Stenek moved to Hawaiâi and began learning from legendary local riggers and sailmakers Laurie Dowsett and Sonny Nelson. Along the way he met Barra, who moved to Hawaiâi in 2001 to continue carving out a career in sailmaking, and the two craftsmen joined forces.
With roots stretching back more than a century in Hawaiâi, Ullman Sails Hawaiâi and Art Nelson Sailmakerâs legacy remains an impressive one. Stenek and Barra maintain their companyâs competitive edge with an emphasis on adapting. When Stenek first moved to the islands, he remembers studying the weather patterns specific to Hawaiian waters. That in-depth understanding continues to inform his designs today. âThe conditions are much windier around Hawaiâi,â Stenek says. âOur sails have rounder forwards and flatter leeches and tend to be much stronger to withstand these conditions.â
As high-tech materials made their way into sail manufacturing and mending lofts around the world, techniques have evolved as well, presenting new challenges for Barra, who serves as the companyâs head sailmaker. Modern-day sails come in a wide range of materialsâfrom Kevlar and laminates to Mylar and plasticsâbut now even casual sailors request the black carbon sails once
æé«ã®ã»ã€ã«ã¡ãŒã«ãŒãšã¯ããããã£ãå®å°ã§åŸãçµéšãšç²Ÿç·»ãªèŠ³å¯ã« ããšã¥ããŠä»äºãããå®ç§äž»çŸ©è
ãã¡ã®ããšã ããšããã®æ§èœãæ倧ã«åŒãåº ãã»ã€ã«äœãã«ã¯ãäžæã®åªåãå®è·µããããŠååãªã³ãã¥ãã±ãŒã·ã§ã³ãäžå¯ æ¬ ã§ããã®ããã«ã¯ã顧客ãšã»ã€ã«ã¡ãŒã«ãŒã®éã«ãã£ãããšããå人çãªä¿¡ é Œé¢ä¿ãç¯ãããŠããªããã°ãªããªãããå人çãªèŠçŽ ã倧ããã®ã§ãããã ããé¢ã§ã¯ãã»ã€ãªã³ã°ã®ã³ãã¥ããã£ã«ã¯å€é¢šãªãšããããããã§ããããšã ã©ããã¯èªãã
ãã©ãããã¹ãããã¯ãããèªããšããã«ä¹ãã®ã§ããããããå¿åŸãŠã ããäºäººãšãã«ãªãã©ã«ãã¢ã§è¹ã«èŠªããã§è²ã£ãããã©ãããåã©ãã®é ãç¥ ç¶ã¯ãããŒã¹ãµã³ãã£ãšãŽæ¹Ÿã®å é ã«çŽ15ã¡ãŒãã«ã®ããŒãã§ããã£ãå°ã㪠ããŒãããã©ããäžäººã§æãããŠãããããã®åŸã幎äžã®ã¯ã«ãŒãã¡ãšãšãã«ãš ããã«ä¹ãçµãããã«ãªããã»ã€ã«ã®åœ¢ã玢å
·ã®è£
åã«å¯Ÿãããã©ããã®èå³ ã¯ãŸããŸãæ·±ãŸã£ãŠããããã®ãªãã«ã¯äžççã«æåãªã»ãŒãªã³ã°éžæã§ãã ã»ã€ã«ã¡ãŒã«ãŒã§ãããããŒã¯ã»ã¬ã€ãã«ãºããžã§ãŒãžã»ã¹ã¶ããªã©ãããã圌 ãã¯ãã©ããã®ã¡ã³ã¿ãŒãšãªããåžåžã®ã«ããã瞫補ã®ããæ¹ãæããŠãããã ãã©ãããåããŠåžåžãã«ããããã®ã¯ã¬ã¹ãã©ã³ãæ¹è£
ããå·¥æ¿ã ã£ãããçŽ æãéå
·ã¯ãããŒã®å€ãå·èµåº«ã«åçŽããŠããŸãããå·èµåº«ã«ã¯ããžã³ãããŠã© ãã«ããã©ã ããªããŠã©ãã«ã貌ããããŸãŸã§ãããããšãåœæãæãåºããŠãã© ããã¯ç¬ãã
ã¹ãããã¯ããããã»ãŒãªã³ã°ããèªç¶ã«ã»ã€ã«ã¡ã€ãã³ã°ãžã®éã«å
¥ ã£ããã»ãŒãªã³ã°ãå§ããé ãã¹ãããã¯ããã¯å³ããçŸå®ã«çŽé¢ããŠããã ã1960幎代ãã70幎代ã«ã¯ããã»ã©ã®ãéæã¡ã§ãªãéããã»ãŒãªã³ã°ãç¶ ããããã«ã¯ãã®æ¥çã§åãå¿
èŠããã£ãã®ã§ãããã¹ãããã¯ããã¯1972幎 ã«ãã¯ã€ã«ç§»äœããŠãå°å
ã®äŒèª¬çãªã»ã€ã«ã¡ãŒã«ãŒã§ãã£ãããŒãªãŒã»ããŒã» ãããšãœããŒã»ãã«ãœã³ã®äžã§åŠã³å§ãããã®éçšã§ãã©ããã«åºäŒã£ãããã© ããããã»ã€ã«ã¡ã€ãã³ã°ã®ãã£ãªã¢ãããã«äŒžã°ãããš2001幎ã«ãã¯ã€ã«ç§» äœããŠãããããããŠäºäººã®ã¯ã©ãããã³ã¯ãåãåãããŠããããšã«ãªã£ãã ãã¯ã€ã§1äžçŽä»¥äžã«ãããæŽå²ãæã€ãŠã«ãã³ã»ã»ã€ã«ãºã»ãã¯ã€ïŒã¢ ãŒãã»ãã«ãœã³ã»ã»ã€ã«ã¡ãŒã«ãŒã®ã¬ã¬ã·ãŒã«ã¯ç®ãã¿ã¯ããã®ãããããã¹ãã ãã¯ãããšãã©ããã¯ãçŸæ³ã«é©å¿ãã€ã¥ããããšã§å瀟ã®ç«¶äºåãä¿ã£ãŠã ããã¹ãããã¯ããã¯ããã¯ã€ã«ç§»äœããåœåããã¯ã€ã®æµ·ç¬ç¹ã®æ°åãã¿ãŒã³ ãç 究ããããã®æ·±ãç解ã¯çŸåšã§ããã¶ã€ã³ã«åœ¹ç«ã£ãŠãããããã¯ã€åšèŸºã¯ ãšãŠã颚ã匷ãã®ã§ãããã¡ã®ã»ã€ã«ã¯ãããã³ãéšåã«äžžã¿ãããããªãŒãïŒåŸ çžïŒããããã©ããã§ãããããã³ã³ãã£ã·ã§ã³ã«èãããããããããªã匷éã« ã§ããŠããŸãããšã¹ãããã¯ããã¯èª¬æããã
ã»ã€ã«ã¡ã€ãã³ã°ãã¡ã³ããã³ã¹ã®å·¥æ¿ã«ãäžççã«ãã€ãã¯çŽ æãæ° æè¡ãç»å Žããã»ã€ã«ã¡ã€ãã³ã°éšéã®è²¬ä»»è
ã§ãããã©ããã«ãšã£ãŠæ°ãã 課é¡ãšãªã£ãŠãããã±ãã©ãŒãã©ãããŒãããã€ã©ãŒããã©ã¹ããã¯ãªã©ãããŸããŸ
78 PALM D DESIGN Sailmakers
reserved for competitive racing. âIf itâs a white Dacron sail, you can tell the manufacturer by the color stitching or the shape of the patches,â Barra says. âBut nowadays, all the sails are made of black carbon fiber, so itâs made me learn a new stitching pattern for that type of material.â
Sailmaking may be an age-old craft, but itâs not a dying art. With the rapid rise of extreme sports like kitesurfing, a new generation of tradesmen, including Barraâs teenage son, Cameron, are being called to the task. âHe wants to learn to use the sewing machine to build things for kite foiling,â Barra says. And along with breeding creativity and innovation, sailmaking may hold deeper insights and timeless lessons too. âWhen you start sewing things yourself, you see how much of the world is actually made from being sewn together,â Barra says. âYou look at something and think, âI could build that.ââ
ãªçŽ æãã»ã€ã«ã«äœ¿ãããããã«ãªããä»ã§ã¯ãšã ããå§ããã°ããã®äººãŸã§ããã¬ãŒã·ã³ã°çšã®é» ãã«ãŒãã³ç¹ç¶ã®ã»ã€ã«ãææããããã«ãªã£ãã
ãçœããã¯ãã³ïŒããªãšã¹ãã«çŽ æïŒã®ã»ã€ã«ãªãã çž«ã糞ã®è²ããããã®åœ¢ã§ã©ãã§äœã£ããã®ãã ãããŸãããä»ãããã©ã®ã»ã€ã«ãé»ãã«ãŒãã³ç¹ ç¶è£œã§ããããæ°ããçŽ æã«åããã瞫補ãåŠã° ãªããã°ãªããªãã®ã§ãããšãã©ããã
ã»ã€ã«ã¡ã€ãã³ã°ã¯æŽå²ããæã ãããã£ã ãŠæ¶ãã€ã€ããããã§ã¯ãªããã«ã€ããµãŒãã£ã³ã® ãããªãšã¯ã¹ããªãŒã ã¹ããŒãã®èéã«ãã£ãŠãæ° äžä»£ãåå
¥ããŠãããããã©ããã®10代ã®æ¯åã ãã£ã¡ãã³åããã®äžäººã ããã«ã€ããã©ã€ãªã³ã°ã® ã®ã¢ãäœãããã«ããã·ã³ã®äœ¿ãæ¹ãèŠãããã ã ããã§ãããåµé æ§ãšé©æ°ã®æ³¢ãå¯ãããªããã» ã€ã«ã¡ã€ãã³ã°ã«ã¯æ·±ãèŠèãšãæãè¶
ããåŠã³ ãããããã©ããã¯èšãããèªåã®æã§ãã·ã³ã䜿㣠ãŠäœããçž«ãå§ãããšãäžã®äžã®å€ãã®ãã®ãçž« ãåãããŠé ãããŠããããšã«æ°ã¥ãã®ã§ããäœã ãèŠãŠãããããªãèªåã«ãäœããããšæãããã«ãª ããã§ããã
80 D PALM DESIGN Sailmakers
Diamond in the Rough
Structured garments and flashes of metal hardware are at home among the ornate, hand-painted details and rough edges of Chinatownâs Wo Fat Building, a historic landmark soon to be transformed into a restaurant and boutique hotel.
82 PALM
Images by Mark Kushimi
Styled by Ara Laylo
Hair & Makeup by Risa Hoshino
Modeled by Brooke Wood
ãã€ã€ã¢ã³ãã®åç³
Alexander McQueen peacoat and skull mask sunglasses. Black dress, black leather mini crossbody bag, and black platform boots from Todâs.
ï€ Tiffany HardWear double long link earrings in 18K gold from Tiffany & Co.
ï€
Virgin wool, cashmere, and silk link stitch sweater with dazzling mohair stripes from Brunello Cucinelli.
Tiffany HardWear graduated link necklace and triple drop earrings in 18K gold from Tiffany & Co. Hat, stylistâs own.
Alexander McQueen obsession asymmetric lace top, tall story bag, punk chain and stud double ring, antique silver pavé earpiece, ï€ antique silver pavé double ring, and punk chain ear cuff. Black pants and DiorClub V1U DiorOblique visor from Saks Fifth Avenue.
Alexander McQueen trousers, graffiti oval sunglasses, punk chain and stud double ring, antique silver pavé ï€ earpiece, and antique silver pavé double ring. Fleur du Mal satin bullet bodysuit from Saks Fifth Avenue.
Trench dress, Shirley bag, and Tom Ford 50MM blue block square optical glasses from Saks Fifth Avenue. Tiffany HardWear graduated link necklace, ï€ Tiffany T T1 narrow diamond hinged bangle, T1 narrow diamond ring, and T1 wide ring in 18K gold from Tiffany & Co. Alexander McQueen tread heeled Chelsea boot.
ï£ Alexander McQueen midi dress, antique silver pavé earpiece, punk chain ear cuff, and tread heeled Chelsea boot.
experiences
ES CA PES
both
Travel
E ãšã¹ã±ãŒã PALM
faraway and familiar
95
Light and Landscapes
Text by Wailana Kalama
æ = ã¯ã€ã©ãã»ã«ã©ã
Images by Erica Davidge
åç = ãšãªã«ã»ããŽã£ããž
96 E PALM ESCAPES Iceland ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã®å
Myths and drama permeate Icelandâs otherworldly terrain.
äŒèª¬ã«åœ©ãããã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã®ãç°äžçã®ãããªç®ãã¿ã¯ã颚æ¯ãå·¡ãæ
ã
Translation by Tomoko Shirota
翻蚳 = åç° æå
ì íì ëëŒë§ë ììŽì¬ëëì ë¹ìžìì ìž ì§ íì ì€ë©° ììµëë€.
The first thing I noticed in Iceland was the light. How it pierced through my jetlag, cut through the brisk air, full of promise. How, even in early winter, it tucked itself away for all but four breathtaking hours of the day.
One October, three friends and I decided to tour the Ring Road, the single highway that encircles Iceland, and take in the glaciers, lagoons, waterfalls, and other natural wonders the country is famous for. The islandâs
ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã«çããŠãŸãç®ã«ã€ããã®ã¯ãå
ã ã£ããæå·®ãŒãã®ç®ã«ããŽã㣠ãšæŸãã 空æ°ãã€ãã¬ããŠéã泚ãæ¥å·®ããç©ãããé£ã³åãçŽ æŽãããæ
ã çŽæãããã®ããã ããŸã ã»ãã®åå¬ã§ããã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ããç®ãèŠåŒµããããªã ã®å
ã«å
ãŸããæéã¯ããã4æéãæ®ãã¯éããªäŒæ¯ã®äžã ã
ãšãã10æãç§ã¯å人3人ãšãšãã«ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ããäžåšããå¯äžã®éè·¯ã ãªã³ã°ããŒãããå·¡ããæ°·æ²³ãã©ã°ãŒã³ãæ»ããã®ã»ãããã®å³¶ãäžççã«æåã« ããŠããèªç¶ã®é 圢çŸã蚪ããæ
ã«åºãããšãŠãåãå°çäžãšã¯æããªããã
PALM 98 E ESCAPES Iceland
Though itâs dubbed a highway, Icelandâs Ring Road is just two lanes, which wind past glaciers, lagoons, waterfalls, and other natural wonders.
otherworldly landscapes have long been muses for artists, photographers, and filmmakers; we were curious if the myriad depictions of this place did it justice.
It was early morning when we climbed into our rental car, an essential when wandering Icelandâs lonely roads, where you can go hours without seeing a single sign of civilization. We stopped at a small café in Reykjavik for a breakfast of fermented shark, dense rye bread, and dried cod with butter. Across the street loomed HallgrÃmskirkja, a landmark church that dominates the capitalâs skyline. An homage to the hexagonal basalt columns of Svartifoss waterfall to the east, HallgrÃmskirkja rises from the earth like a gigantic, angelic organ waiting to be played.
In Iceland, the landscape permeates everythingâ religion, myth, art, literature. There is a heightened awareness of the earth, the water, the magma beneath your feet. Iceland is similar to Hawaiâi in that way, especially Hawaiâi Island, where Iâm from. Both are geologically young, with dramatic mountains, sandy beaches, and active volcanoes. The land in both places is precious because there is so little of it. In Reykjavik, youâre constantly reminded of that fact. To the north, ships bob in the bay; to the south lies NauthólsvÃk geothermal beach; and to the west, the Atlantic Ocean seems to stretch on endlessly. If you get lost, look to the waves to know where you are.
ãªãã®å³¶ã®æ¯è²ã¯ãæããã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããåç家ãæ åäœå®¶ãã¡ã«ã€ã³ã¹ã㬠ãŒã·ã§ã³ãäžãç¶ããŠãããããããç¡æ°ã®äœåãã©ãã»ã©çã«è¿«ã£ãŠããã® ããããã²ãã®ç®ã§ç¢ºãããŠã¿ããã£ãã®ã ã
ç§ãã¡ã¯æ©æããã¬ã³ã¿ã«ãŒã«ä¹ã蟌ãã ãã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã®å¯ããéãæ° ãŸãŸã«æ
ããã«ã¯ã¬ã³ã¿ã«ãŒãäžå¯æ¬ ã ããªã«ããææã®çé±ãèŠããããªã èéãäœæéããããããšç¶ãã®ã ããããŸãã¯ã¬ã€ãã£ãã¯ã®å°ããªã«ã㧠ã«ç«ã¡å¯ã£ãŠãçºé
µããããµã¡èãã©ã£ããããã©ã€éºŠãã³ãå¹²ããé±ãšãã¿ãŒ ã®æé£ããšããã«ãã§ã®åããåŽã«ã¯ãã¬ã€ãã£ãã¯ææ°ã®ã©ã³ãããŒã¯ã§ãã ãããã«ã°ãªã ã¹æäŒããã³ãç«ã£ãŠããã島ã®æ±å²žã«ããã¹ãã«ãã£ãã©ã¹ã® æ»ããã®åŸãã®åŽã«äžŠã¶å
è§åœ¢ã®æ±ç¶çæŠå²©ãã€ã¡ãŒãžããŠèšèšããããšãã æäŒã¯ããŸãã§æŒå¥ãããã®ãåŸ
ã€å·šå€§ãªå€©åœã®ãªã«ã¬ã³ã®ããã«ãå ã
ãšã ãããç¥çšããŠããã
å®æãäŒèª¬ãã¢ãŒãããããŠæåŠãã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã§ã¯ããããããã®ã®ãªãã« èªç¶ã®æ¯èŠ³ã浞éããŠããã倧å°ãšæ°ŽããããŠå°é¢ã®äžãæµãã溶岩ã«ããæ èãåããããç ãæŸãŸãããŠãããã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã¯ããæå³ã§ãã¯ã€ã«ãç¹ã« ç§ã®æ
é·ã§ãããã¯ã€å³¶ã«äŒŒãŠãããã©ã¡ãã®å³¶ãå°è³ªåŠçã«ãŸã è¥ããå£®éº ãªå±±ã
ãç æµããããŠæŽ»çºã«æŽ»åäžã®ç«å±±ãæã€ããããŠãã©ã¡ãã®å³¶ã§ãåå° ã¯éãããŠããŠè²Žéã ãã¬ã€ãã£ãã¯ã§ã¯åžžã«ãããæèããããããè¡ã®ååŽ ã¯è¹è¶ãåæ³ãã湟ã§ãååŽã«ã¯å°ç±ããŒãã®ãã€ããã¥ã«ã¹ãŽã£ãŒã¯ãããã 西åŽã«ã¯æãŠããªã倧西æŽãåºãã£ãŠãããéã«è¿·ã£ãããæµ·ãèŠãã°èªåã ã©ãã«ãããããããã
100 PALM E
ESCAPES Iceland
After Reykjavik we continued on Route 1, as the Ring Road is also known. As it was autumn, much of the lowlands were brown, their grasses like fine troll hair. Before following the road south, we detoured inland to Ãingvellir Valley. This wide rift valley lies at the meeting point of the north American and Eurasian tectonic plates and is one of the three main landmarks along the Golden Circle, a scenic loop that takes you from Reykjavik to central Iceland and back. During the Viking Age, Icelanders gathered at Ãingvellir to make laws and settle grievances, using its craggy cliffs as a natural amphitheatre. From there, it was a short drive to the two other nonpareils on the Golden Circle: Gullfoss, a waterfall that drops in two tiers into a mist-sprayed canyon, and Haukadalur valley, an area of shooting geysers, bubbling hot springs, mud pots, and fumaroles.
Back on the Ring Road and continuing south, the landscape changes from grassy lowlands to mountainous highlands. Plains and lonely peaks give way to mosscovered lava fields and ice-capped volcanoes. Though itâs dubbed a highway, the Ring Road is just two lanes, which wind past waterfalls with names that read like ancient secrets: Seljalandsfoss, Skógafoss, Aegissidufoss, Gluggafoss. Legend has it that a Viking settler buried treasure in a cave behind Skógafoss.
Myths pepper the coast, giving the landscapes flavor and life. At Reynisfjara beachâa stretch of black sand, ghostly surf, and basalt cliffsâtwo legendary sea stacks stand just offshore. As the story goes, the ancient monoliths are the remains of two trolls who lost track of time and were caught in the rays of the rising sun, which petrified them into stone. Gazing out at them in the draining light, itâs hard not to believe.
Iceland is drama, a barren, black landscape interrupted by tufts of pale yellow grass. Iceland is a long glacier tongue tumbling into a lagoon, thawing into icebergs of luminous blue, soot black, milky white. At Jökulsárlón, I spotted a lone seal gliding from the black waters of the lagoon out to the Atlantic, past the shore of glassy ice known as Diamond Beach.
In the Highlands, all pretense of villages or farms fades away into canyons and volcanic landscapes. Here, nature takes supremacy. Ravens test their wingspans from atop derelict cairns. The waterfalls are more powerful than those to the south, unrivaled in strength or roar. In the cliffs of Vopnafjörður, we spied the skeleton of an Arctic fox, pecked or weathered clean.
The region of MÃœvatn lake is a geologistâs dream, alive with pseudocraters, calderas, thermal springs, and lava fields. Iceland has not one Santa but 13, and they all live here, in Dimmuborgir, a field of malformed and ostentatious lava rocks. For souvenirs, a lapidary there sold us some obsidian, called hrafntinna in Icelandic. Raven-flint. When I tilted a piece in my hand, splinters of light jumped eagerly off its glassy edges.
ã¬ã€ãã£ãã¯ãåŸã«ããŠããã«ãŒã1ããšãåŒã°ãããªã³ã°ããŒããèµ°ãã ç§ã®ããšã§ãäœå°ã®ã»ãšãã©ã¯è¶è²ãæ¯ããŠãæ¯ãèã¯ããã«ã®é«ªã®ããã«çŽ°ã æããã ãåã«åããåã«ãã·ã³ã¯ãŽã§ããªã«ã®è°·ãžå¯ãéããããåç±³ãšãŠãŒ ã©ã·ã¢ãäºã€ã®å€§éžãã¬ãŒãã®å¢ç®ã«äœçœ®ãããã®åºãè°·ã¯ãã¬ã€ãã£ãã¯ãã ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãäžå€®éšãåãã«ãŒãããŽãŒã«ãã³ãµãŒã¯ã«ãã®äžå€§åæã®äžã€ã㎠ã¡ã€ãã³ã°ã®æ代ãã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã®äººã
ã¯ãã®ã·ã³ã¯ãŽã§ããªã«ã«éãŸãã岩㮠åãç«ã£ãåŽãèªç¶ã®éå€èå°ã«äœ¿ã£ãŠãæ³ãå¶å®ããã察ç«ã解決ãããã ããããããã¯ããŽãŒã«ãã³ãµãŒã¯ã«ã®ã»ãã®äºã€ã®æ¯åå°ïŒæ°Žãã¶ãã«å
㟠ãã峡谷ã«äºæ®µã«æ°Žãèœã¡ãŠããã°ãã«ãã©ã¹ã®æ»ããããŠãéæ¬ æ³ããã³ãã³ ãšæ¹§ãåºãæž©æ³ãæ³¥ç«å±±ãèžæ°ãåŽãåºãåŽæ°åãªã©ããããã€ã«ããŒã«ã«ã® è°·ïŒãè»ã§ããã®è·é¢ã ã
ãªã³ã°ããŒãã«æ»ã£ãŠå³¶ã®åãžåãããèã®çãèãäœå°ãããå±±å°ãž ãšæ¯è²ãå€ãããå¯ãããªäžéµããŸã°ãã«ããå¹³åã«å€ãã£ãŠãèã«èŠããã 溶岩åãšãæ°·ãé ããç«å±±ãèŠããŠãããããã€ãŠã§ã€ããšã¯ãã£ãŠãããªã³ã°ã ãŒãã¯ãã£ã2è»ç·ã®éè·¯ã ãã»ãªã£ã©ã³ãã¹ãã©ã¹ãã¹ã³ã¥ã¬ãã©ã¹ãã¢ãšã®ã· ãã¥ãã¹ãã°ã«ã¬ãã©ã¹âŠâŠãŸãã§å€ä»£ã®éæ³ã®åªæã®ãããªååã®æ»ããã ã€ãéãããã¹ã³ã¥ã¬ãã©ã¹ã®æ»ã®åŸãã®æŽçªã«ã¯ããŽã¡ã€ãã³ã°ã財å®ãé ã ããšããäŒèª¬ãæ®ãããŠããã
海岞沿ãã«ã¯äŒèª¬ãå€ããèªç¶ã®æ¯èŠ³ã«ãããªã颚å³ãšäººã®æ¯å¹ãæ·»ã ããã¬ã€ãã¹ãã£ã€ã©ã¯ããŒãã«çœãæ³¢ãæã¡å¯ããé»ç ã®ããŒãã§ãçæŠå²© ã®åŽã«é¢ãã岞ããå°ãé¢ããæµ·äžã«äºã€ã®å·šå²©ããããäŒèª¬ã«ããã°ãã㮠岩ã¯ãæãçµã€ã®ãå¿ããŠææ¥ã济ã³ãŠããŸããç³ã«ãªã£ãããã«ãã¡ãªã®ã ãšãããæããªãã¯ãããå
ã®äžã§çºããŠãããšããã®äŒèª¬ãä¿¡ããªãããã«ã ããªãæ°ãããŠããã
ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã¯ãé»ã
ãšããäžæ¯ã®å€§å°ãèé»è²ã®èå°ã圩ããã©ãã ãã¯ãªåå°ã ãæ°·æ²³ã®é·ãèãã©ã°ãŒã³ã«å±ãããããã溶ãåºããæ°·å¡ã¯ãé ãéã£ãéãçã®ãããªé»ã垯ã³ãä¹³çœè²ã«èŒãããšãŒã¯ã«ã¹ã¢ã¥ã«ãã¥ã³æ°· æ²³æ¹ã§ã¯ãã¢ã¶ã©ã·ã1é ãã©ã°ãŒã³ã®é»ãæ°Žã®ãªãããçŸããããã€ã€ã¢ã³ãã ãŒãããšåŒã°ãããªããããªæ°·å¡çŸ€ãè¶ããŠå€§è¥¿æŽã«æ³³ãã ãã®ãèŠããã é«å°ã§ã¯æã蟲å°ã¯ãã£ãã姿ãæ¶ãã峡谷ãšç«å±±ãç¶ããããã§ã¯èª ç¶ããã¹ãŠã®äžã«åèšãããèŠæšãŠãããç©ç³ã®äžã§ã¯ã¿ãªã¬ã©ã¹ã矜ãåºã ãŠãããé«å°ã®æ»ã¯ååŽã®æ»ããããã¯ãã«ã§ãå§åçãªå匷ãã§èœé³ãé¿ã ããããŽã©ãããã£ãšã«ãºã«ã®åŽã®äžã«ãç§ãã¡ã¯ãããã§ã¯ã®ããã®ããã㪠çœéªšãèŠã€ãããç犜é¡ã«é£ã¹ãããã颚éšã«ãããããã®ã ããã
ããŒãŽã¡ãã³æ¹ä»è¿ã¯ãåœç«å£ãã«ã«ãã©ãæž©æ³ã溶岩åãªã©ãå€åœ©ãªå° 圢ãèŠããããå°è³ªåŠè
ã«ãšã£ãŠã¯å€¢ã®ãããªå Žæã ãã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãã«ã¯ãµã³ã¿ ã¯ããŒã¹ã¯ã²ãšãã§ã¯ãªã13人ãããŠããã®å
šå¡ããå¥åŠãªåœ¢ã®æº¶å²©ãç«ã¡äžŠ ã¶ãã£ã ãã«ã®ã«ãšããèéã«äœãã§ããã®ã ãšãããããã®çŽ°å·¥ç©ã®åºã§ãç§ ãã¡ã¯ã¢ã€ã¹ã©ã³ãèªã§ãã©ãã³ãã£ããã€ãŸããã«ã©ã¹ã®ç«æç³ããšåŒã°ããé» æç³ãããã€ãè²·ã£ããæã®ã²ãã®äžã§è§åºŠãå€ãããšããªããããªçžããäž çã®å
ãé£ã³åºããã
104 PALM E ESCAPES Iceland
Wailukuâs Renaissance
æ = ã¬ãã¢ã»ã¢ãã
åç = ãžã£ãã»ãã£ãã³
108 E PALM
ã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã»ã«ãããµã³ã¹
ESCAPES Wailuku
Text by Lehia Apana
Images by Jana Dillon
Amid an ongoing cultural resurgence, the historic town of Wailuku, Maui, retains its local accent.
ããŠã€å³¶ã®æŽå²ããçºãã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã¯ãæ°ãããšãã«ã®ãŒãè¿ãå
¥ã ãªãããç¬ç¹ã®åæ§ãä¿ã£ãŠããŸãã
Translation by Eri Toyama Lau 翻蚳 = ã©ãŠå€å±±æµç
ì§ìì ìž ë¬ží ë¶í ììì ë§ì°ìŽì ì ì
ê¹ì ë§ììž ììŒë£šì¿ ë íì§ íììŽ ìµìì
ì ì§íê³ ììµëë€.
Igrew up with conflicting perceptions of my hometown.
There were the stories from old-timers, who reminisced about a lively Main Street, at times bustling with people shoulder to shoulder. And then there was the reality of my youth: other than law offices and sleepy storefronts, the streets were mostly empty.
Now, three decades later, Wailuku looks much like it did when I was a little girl. Driving into the town center from Kaâahumanu Avenue is like rolling into a painting. The concrete bridge built in 1936âknown simply as âWailuku Bridgeâ among localsâstill stands as the gateway into town. Itâs unremarkable by todayâs standards, but a
å°ããé ãããç§ã¯æ
é·ã®çºã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã«ã€ããŠãççŸããã€ã¡ãŒãžãæ±ããŠã ããäžã€ã¯ãæããã®äœäººãã¡ã®æãåºè©±ã®äžã®çºããã®æã¯ã¡ã€ã³ã¹ããªãŒã ã人ã§ããµããŠããŠãè©ãã¶ã€ãåãããã«ããŠæ©ãããã®ã ããšã幎å¯ããã¡ ã¯æããããã«èªã£ãããã©ãåã©ãã ã£ãç§ã®ç®ã«æ ãå®éã®çºã¯éã£ãã çºã®äžå¿ã«ã¯ããã€ãã®åŒè·å£«äºåæãšå¯ãŒãããããªååºã䞊ãã§ããã ãã§ãæ©ã人ã®å§¿ãã»ãšãã©ãªãã£ãã
ãããã30幎ã®ææ¥ãæµããããã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®çºã¯ä»ããç§ãå°å¥³ã ã£ã é ãšããŸãå€ãããªããã«ã¢ãããã»ã¢ãŽã§ãã¥ãŒããçºã®äžå¿ãžãšè»ãèµ°ãã ããšããŸãã§çµµã®ãªãã«æº¶ã蟌ãã§ãããããªé¯èŠã«è¥²ããããå°å
ã®äººãã¡
110 PALM E ESCAPES Wailuku
By the mid 1800s, the booming sugar industry brought thousands of laborers to Wailuku, and the area quickly became the center of work and play for the generations that followed.
closer look reveals a craft that lives mostly in nostalgia. Framing the bridge are thousands of hand-chiseled stones fixed with such rugged precision as to elevate the structure into a work of art.
I glance mauka (toward the mountains) to the wildly lush âĪao Valleyâor, as Mark Twain dubbed it, the âYosemite of the Pacific.â More than just a scenic landscape, this area is steeped in Hawaiian history. In 1790, Kamehameha I, chief of Hawaiâi Island, defeated Maui ruler KalanikÅ«pule in a battle so bloody that warriorsâ bodies dammed the river. By the mid 1800s, the booming sugar industry brought thousands of laborers to Wailuku, and the area quickly became the center of work and play for the generations that followed.
From storied battleground to the current seat of Maui County government, Wailuku has long influenced the politics of the rest of the island. The area is in the midst of a resurgence, and today youâll find a diversity of culture that reflects the people and eras that have shaped this island.
Double lanes merge into one as I approach, gently coaxing my foot off the pedal and slowing the car to a relaxed 20 miles per hour. Wailuku often appears as a rolling time-lapse in the car window. But today Iâm navigating the town the old-fashioned way: one step at a time.
I slide into a parking spot near the intersection of Main and Market streets. Quiet compared to tourist-laden Lahaina and PÄâia, Wailuku has retained its local accent. Outsiders are welcome, but storefronts cater to locals. The clues are everywhere. A sign advertises âfresh lei,â potted ti plants color storefront windows, and tanned 20-somethings carry gear purchased from the neighborhood outrigger paddling shop. Even vandals are guided by a sense of place. On a crosswalk sign in the townâs center, a graffitied stick figure wears a malo and traditional headdress.
I begin at Wailuku Coffee Company, a coffee shop that doubles as an unofficial town center. Girls in trucker hats wait for their orders beside a businessman in a pressed suit clutching important-looking papers. I nab an outdoor table, adjusting my seat for some of Mauiâs finest people watching. Spandex-clad cyclists trade stories and swallow their final gulps of caffeine before rolling down Market Street. A group of old guys stroll past with their tiny dogs, and itâs unclear who is walking who.
ãã·ã³ãã«ã«ãã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®æ©ããšåŒã¶ã1936幎ã«å»ºé ãããã³ã³ã¯ãªãŒãã®éž æ©ããããä»ãçºã®å
¥ãå£ã ãçŸä»£ã®åºæºããããã°ãªãã®å€å²ããªãæ©ã ããç®ãåããã°ä»ã¯ãããã£ãã«èŠãããªãå ã®æãçããŠããã人ã®æ㧠å»ãŸãããã£ãããšæ£ç¢ºã«ç©ã¿äžããããäœåãã®ç³ãã¡ããæ©ãèžè¡çãªå åšã«ããŠããã
ããŠã«ïŒå±±åŽïŒã®æ¹è§ãããŒã¯ã»ããŠã§ã€ã³ãã倪平æŽã®ãšã»ããããšåŒãã ãšããç·ããµããã€ã¢ãªå³¡è°·ã«ç®ãåãããçŸããæ¯è²ãšããã ãã§ãªãããã® äžåž¯ã¯ãã¯ã€ã®æŽå²ã®äžã§ãéèŠãªå Žæãªã®ã ã1790幎ããã¯ã€å³¶ãæ¯é
ã ãŠããã«ã¡ãã¡ãäžäžããããŠã€ã®æ¯é
è
ã«ã©ãã¯ãã¬ããã®ãããã§æã¡è² ããããããã¯ããã¯å£®çµ¶ãªæŠãã§ãæŠå£«ãã¡ã®æ»äœãå·ã®æµããæ¢ãããšèš ãäŒããããŠããã19äžçŽãªãã°ã«ã¯æ¥æé·ãããµããŠããç£æ¥ãæ¯ããã ããäœå人ãã®åŽåè
ãã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã«æŒãå¯ãããããããæ°äžä»£ã«ããããã¯ã€ ã«ã¯ã¯ä»äºãšåš¯æ¥œã®äžå¿å°ãšããŠæ ããã®ã ã
ãã€ãŠã¯æŽå²ã圩ãæŠå ŽãšããŠãçŸåšã§ã¯ããŠã€é¡åºæåšå°ãšããŠãã¯ã€ ã«ã¯ã¯ããŠã€å³¶ã®æ¿æ²»ã«å€§ããªåœ±é¿ããããŒããŠããããã®ã¯ã€ã«ã¯ãä»ã掻 æ°ãåãæ»ãã€ã€ãããããŠã€å³¶ãããã¡ã¥ãã£ãŠããããŸããŸãªäººãæ代ã æ ãå€æ§ãªæåãèŠãŠãšããã
2è»ç·ã ã£ãè»ç·ã¯ãããŠ1è»ç·ã«ãªããç§ã¯ã¢ã¯ã»ã«ããã«ãèžãã§ã ã足ãããããã¹ããŒããæé20ãã€ã«ïŒçŽ32ããïŒã«èœãšããããµã ãè»ã®çª ããçºããã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã¯ãã¿ã€ã ã©ãã¹ã®åç»ã®ããã«ãã£ãšããéã«éããŠã㟠ããã§ãä»æ¥ã¯ãæãµãã®ããæ¹ã§ãã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®çºãäžå¯§ã«èšªããŠã¿ããã
ã¡ã€ã³ã¹ããªãŒããšããŒã±ããã¹ããªãŒãã®äº€å·®ç¹ã«è¿ãé§è»å Žã«è»ã ä¹ãå
¥ããã芳å
客ã§ããµããããã©ãã€ãããã€ã¢ã«æ¯ã¹ããšãã£ãšéã㪠ã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã¯ãç¬ç¹ã®åæ§ãä¿ã£ãŠããããã®çºã®åºã¯ã©ãããå€ããã®æ¥èšªè
ã æè¿ããªããããåºæ¬ã¯å°å
ã®äººã
åãã ããã®èšŒã¯ããããšããã§ç®ã«ã€ãã
ãæ°é®®ãªã¬ã€ãã®çæ¿ãã·ã§ãŠãŠã£ã³ããŠã圩ããã£ãªãŒããããæ¥ã«çŒãã20 代ã®è¥è
ãã¡ããè¿æã®ã¢ãŠããªã¬ãŒã»ãããªã³ã°åºã§è³Œå
¥ãããããã®ã¢ã æ±ããŠæ©ããŠãããèœæžããããã¯ã€ã«ã¯ããããçºã®äžå¿ã«ãã暪ææ©éã® æšèã§ã¯ãæž¡ãããšããŠãã人ç©ã«ãããšåŒã°ããè
°ã¿ã®ãšäŒçµ±çãªå ãã€ã å ããããŠããã
ãŸãã¯ãã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã»ã³ãŒããŒã»ã«ã³ãããŒãã蚪ããŠã¿ããéå
¬åŒãªããçº ã®äžå¿çååšãšç®ãããŠããã³ãŒããŒã·ã§ããã ãã±ãã£ãšããã¹ãŒã姿ã®ãé èŠãããªæžé¡ãããããããžãã¹ãã³ã®æšªã§ããã©ãã«ãŒãããããã¶ã£ã女 ã®åãã¡ãèªåãã¡ã®é£²ã¿ç©ãåŸ
ã£ãŠãããå€ã®ããŒãã«ã«é£åããæ€
åã®è§ 床ã調ç¯ããããããã¯ããŠã€å³¶ã§ãæé«ã®ããŒãã«ãŠã©ããã³ã°çšç¹çåžã ã ã¹ãã³ããã¯ã¹ã§èº«ããããããµã€ã¯ãªã¹ããã¡ãããŒã±ããã¹ããªãŒãã«æŒã åºãåã«ãã«ãã§ã€ã³ã®æåŸã®ã²ãšãã¡ã飲ã¿å¹²ããªããæ
å ±äº€æã«å¿ããã
å°åç¬ãæ£æ©ãããŠãã幎é
ã®ã°ã«ãŒãã人ãç¬ãæ£æ©ãããŠããã®ãããç¬ ã人ãæ£æ©ãããŠããã®ããã
112 PALM E ESCAPES Wailuku
From
storied battleground to the current seat of Maui County government, Wailuku has long influenced the culture and politics of the rest of the island.
In the distance, I spot David Sandell, an artist who came to Maui in the â70s and never left. Canvas under his arm, heâs a sight as unmistakable as the frenetic paintings he creates, looking every bit the starving artist in his trademark cutoff aloha shirt and worn-in slippahs. His shop is a remnant from a bygone era, one that somehow blends seamlessly with the new wave of Wailuku creatives around him.
Brick-lined walkways lead to Wailukuâs grande dame, the Historic âIao Theater. Opened in 1928, the theater is a time capsule that continues to host some of the hottest acts in town. Bob Hope and Frank Sinatra entertained under this roof; today itâs home to community theater troupe Maui OnStage.
From the outside, the town appears stuck in timeâ and not just one time but several. Art deco wings embellish one buildingâs façade, as if ready to lift it into flight. The 1950s National Dollar Store, now home to a performing arts academy, still sports the dollar-sign logo at its entryway. Plantation-era touches, like corrugated metal and wood-framed windows, remain.
Itâs the kind of local authenticity that other Maui towns lost years ago, and that some Wailuku residents fear will be eclipsed by a new generation of entrepreneurs. This quiet transformation is heralded by the sounds of concrete trucks and jackhammers, a signal of whatâs to come: a four-story parking structure that will double as a site for farmers markets and festivals, promising not just more parking spaces but renewed energy.
Though itâs still a relaxed town, Wailuku has its frills. Thereâs Esters Fair Prospect, which serves farm-to-table fare on tiny plates and pours a cocktail named after a Pink Floyd song. Around the corner, Wai Bar hosts trivia nights and DJs with monikers like Sandy Cheeks and Boomshot. Throughout the town, previously bare walls are colored by the imaginations of local muralists, many with deep ties to Wailuku. Thoughtful island motifsâno dolphins or coconut bras hereâare based on âÅlelo noâeau, or traditional Hawaiian proverbs.
å°ãé¢ãããšããã«ãã€ãŽã£ããã»ãµã³ãã«ãããèŠã€ããã70幎代ã«ã ãŠã€å³¶ã«ãã£ãŠããŠããã®ãŸãŸãã€ããŠããŸã£ãã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãã ãå°èã«ãã£ã³ãŽ ã¡ã¹ãæ±ãã姿ã¯ã圌ã®äœåãšåãããã«å¥æŸã§ãšãã«ã®ãŒã«ããµããèŠéé ãããããªããåãã£ã±ãªãã®ã¢ããã·ã£ãã«å±¥ãå€ããããŒããµã³ãã«ãã㬠ãŒãããŒã¯ã§ãããã«ãé£ããé£ããã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãç¶ãšããæ Œå¥œã ãéãå»ã£ ãæ代ã®åæ®ãã§ãã£ã±ãã®åœŒã®åºã¯ãä»ã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®çºã«æŒãå¯ããŠããã¯ãª ãšã€ãã£ããªæ°ããæ³¢ãšãŸã£ããéåæãªã調åããŠããã
ç
çŠæ·ãã®æ©éã¯ãæŽå²ã«åœ©ãããã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®è²Žå©Šäººãã€ã¢ãªã»ã·ã¢ã¿ ãŒããžãšç¶ãã1928幎ã«ãªãŒãã³ãããã®åå Žã¯ãæããçºãã¡ã°ãã®ããã ãªã·ã§ãŒãé£ç¶¿ãšããåºããããŠããã¿ã€ã ã«ãã»ã«ã ãããã»ããŒãããã©ã³ ã¯ã»ã·ããã©ããã®å±æ ¹ã®äžã§èŠ³å®¢ãé
äºãããçŸåšã¯ãå°åã®åå£ããŠã€ã»ãª ã³ã¹ããŒãžã®æ ç¹ãšãªã£ãŠããã
äžèŠãããšãçºã¯æ代ã«åãæ®ãããããã«èŠãããã²ãšã€ã®æ代ã ã㧠ã¯ãªããããã€ãã®æ代ã®äžã«ãšã©ããããŠãããã®ããã ããã«ã®å£ã食ãã ä»ã«ãé£ã³ç«ã£ãŠãããããªã¢ãŒã«ãã³æ§åŒã®ç¿Œãä»ã¯èå°èžè¡ã®åŠæ ¡ãšã㊠䜿ãããŠãã1950幎代建é ã®ããã·ã§ãã«ã»ãã©ãŒã»ã¹ãã¢ãã®å»ºç©ã«ã¯ãå
¥ã å£ã«ãã«ããŒã¯ã®ããŽãæ®ãããã©ã³ããŒã·ã§ã³æ代ã®åæ®ã§ããæ³¢åãã¿ã³ ãšæšæ ã®çªãå¥åšã ã
ã»ãã®çºããã¯ãšã£ãã®æã«å€±ãããŠããŸã£ããããŠã€å³¶ããããããä»ã ã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®çºã«ã¯æ®ã£ãŠãããçºã®äººã®ãªãã«ã¯ãæ°ããäžä»£ã®èµ·æ¥å®¶ãã¡ã® å°é ã§ãããæ¶ããŠããŸãã®ã§ã¯ãšæãã人ããããã»ã¡ã³ããã©ãã¯ãåå²©æ© ã®èœé³ã¯ãéãã«é²è¡ããŠããå€åã®äºå
ãªã®ãããããªããçŸåšå»ºèšãã㊠ããã®ã¯åé建ãŠã®é§è»å Žã ããã é§è»ã¹ããŒã¹ãå¢ããã ãã§ã¯ãªãããã¡ ãŒããŒãºããŒã±ããããã§ã¹ãã£ãã«ã®äŒå Žã«ããªãäºå®ã§ãæ°ããªãšãã«ã® ãŒã®åµé ããçŽæããŠãããšããããã ã
çžå€ãããã®ãã³ãããçºãªããããã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã®çºã¯ãããããªäžé¢ã æã¡åãããŠãããããšã¹ã¿ãŒãºã»ãã§ã¢ã»ããã¹ãã¯ããã§ã¯ãå°ç¿ã§äŸããã蟲 家çŽéã®é£æã䜿ã£ãæçãšããã³ã¯ã»ããã€ãã®æ²ããååããšã£ãã«ã¯ãã« ã楜ããããå°ãå
ã®è§ã«ãããã¯ã€ã»ããŒãã§ã¯ããªãã¢ã»ãã€ããéå¬ããããµ ã³ãã£ã»ããŒã¯ã¹ãšãããŒã ã·ã§ãããšãã£ãããã¯ããŒã ãæã€DJãã¡ãéžæ² ããŠãããçºã®ãã¡ãã¡ã®ããåºãã ã£ãå£ã«ããã®å€ããã¯ã€ã«ã¯ãšæ·±ãçµã³ ã€ããæã€ãã¥ãŒã©ã«ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããã¡ãæ³ååãé§äœ¿ããŠåœ©ããå ããŠããã ããã§ã¯ã€ã«ã«ã®çŸ€ãããã³ã³ãã補ã®æ°Žçã身ã«ã€ãããã³ãµãŒãšãã£ãé
114 PALM E ESCAPES Wailuku
Wailukuâs diversity of culture reflects the people and eras that have the shaped the island of Maui.
The dining scene retains its island flavor but is seasoned by an inventive new generation of chefs. Sushi takes a playful turn at Umi, where you can order a spicy tuna roll topped with potato chips and salmon garnished with furikake Chex mix.
Beyond these signs of life is a vantage that remains unchanged. Some of the shops from my youth are still around, as are the lawyers and old-timers. New businesses have moved in, mingling with their aging neighbors. Though technically not âmom and pop,â thereâs still a good chance youâll be greeted by the owner.
Walking these streets, Wailuku feels both familiar and brand new. Wailuku isnât changing, I tell myself. Itâs waking from a nap.
ä¿çãªããŒãã¯èŠåœãããããªã¬ãã»ããšã¢ãŠïŒäŒçµ± çãªãã¯ã€ã®ããšããïŒãããšã«ããããã¯ã€ãªã㧠ã¯ã®æ·±ãæå³ãæã€ã¢ããŒããæãããŠããã
çºã®ã¬ã¹ãã©ã³ã§ã¯ãå°å
ããããæ®ããªã ãããæ°ããäžä»£ã®ã·ã§ããã¡ãç¬åµçãªæ°ã㪠ã¹ãã€ã¹ãæ£ãã°ããŠãããããšãã°ãéã³å¿ã«ã ãµãã寿åžã®åºããŠããã§ã¯ãããããããã¹ããã ã£ãã¹ãã€ã·ãŒãªããããŒã«ãããã§ãã¯ã¹ãã㯠ã¹ã®ãµããããæ·»ãããµãŒã¢ã³ãªã©ã楜ãããã
æ°ããªçåœã®æ¯å¹ã®å¥¥ã«ã¯ãå€ããããšã® ãªãç¹è³ªãæ¯ã¥ããŠãããçºã®åŒè·å£«ãã¡ãå€ã ããã®äœäººãã¡ãšåæ§ãç§ãåã©ãã®é ãã芪ã ãã§ããåºã®ããã€ãã¯ãŸã å¥åšã ãæ°ããããžã ã¹ãã幎é
ã®é£äººãã¡ãšããŸã銎æãã§ããã家æ çµå¶ã®ãããããããããã»ã¹ãã¢ãã§ã¯ãªãã«ã㊠ããåºäž»ãåºè¿ããŠãããåºããŸã ãããããããçº ãæ©ãã°ãæããããšæ°é®®ããåæã«èžã«åºããã ç§ã¯èªåã«èšãèããããã¯ã€ã«ã¯ã¯å€ãã£ãŠã㪠ãããã ãæŒå¯ããç®èŠããã ããªã®ã ããšã
116 PALM E ESCAPES Wailuku
FA RE
Culinary delights and F PALM é£
delectable hidden gems
119
F PALM
Raising the Bar
æ°äžä»£ã®å±
é
å±
Text by Rae Sojot
æ = ã¬ã€ã»ãœãžã§ã
Images by John Hook
åç = ãžã§ã³ã»ããã¯
120 PALM F FARE Izakaya
Three Honolulu eateries offer unique twists on the traditional izakaya concept.
äŒçµ±ãåãç¶ããªãããæ°ããæ èŠã§åæ§ãçºæ®ããããã«ã«ã®å±
é
å±3è»ãã玹ä»ããŸãã
Opening a restaurant demands practicality and passion. For Kin Lui, chef and owner of Tane Vegan Izakaya, it involved a bit of kismet too. One afternoon, while working as a sushi chef in San Francisco years ago, Lui came across an article about bycatch and declining fishing populations. A few months later came a chance introduction to Casson Trenor, a sustainable seafood advocate. Lui, on the brink of opening his own sushi restaurant, was curious to know how his tentative menu looked through a lens of sustainability and asked Trenor to review it. Trenor agreed, and then proceeded to strike through nearly every fish offering on the menu. Lui sat back, gobsmacked. If his sushi restaurant offered at-risk fish, then other sushi restaurants did too. Something clicked, Lui recalls: Why not do something different?
Over the last decade, Lui has doubled down on being different, leading to a series of successful restaurants that reflect his pioneering spirit, including San Franciscoâs Tataki, which offers solely responsibly sourced seafood, and Shizen, a vegetarian sushi spot. Tane, located in an unassuming corner of urban Honolulu, is Luiâs latest venture and his first in Hawaiâi: an entirely vegan sushi izakaya.
Since opening in 2019, Tane remains a daily labor of love for Lui and his team. Each morning, Lui checks his to-do list before spiriting around town for items like tofu and noodles. Then, instead of heading to the fish auction house for choice
ã¬ã¹ãã©ã³ãéãã«ã¯ãçŸå®çãªèŠç¹ãšç±æãå¿
èŠã ãããŽã£ãŒã¬ã³å±
é
å±ãçš®ãã®ãªãŒããŒã·ã§ãã ãã³ã»ã«ã€ããã«ãšã£ãŠã¯ããã®ããã«ã¡ãã£ãšãã éåœãåããããµã³ãã©ã³ã·ã¹ã³ã§å¯¿åžã·ã§ããšã ãŠåããŠããããæ¥ãã«ã€ããã¯æ··ç²ãšæŒç²éã® æžå°ã«ã€ããŠã®èšäºã«ç®ããšããããã®æ°ãæåŸã ãµã¹ãããã«ã»ã·ãŒããŒãã®æŽ»å家ã§ããã«ããœã³ã» ãã¬ããŒãããšããŸããŸç¥ãåãæ©äŒãåŸãã«ã€ ããã¯ãã¡ããã©èªåã®å¯¿åžã¬ã¹ãã©ã³ãéãæºå äžã§ãæ€èšäžã®åºã®ã¡ãã¥ãŒããµã¹ããããªãã£ã® 芳ç¹ã§ãã§ãã¯ããŠã¿ãããšæãã€ãããã¬ããŒã ãã«ã¡ãã¥ãŒã«ç®ãéããŠã»ãããšäŸé Œãããã㬠ããŒããã¯å¿«è«Ÿããããæ»ã£ãŠããã¡ãã¥ãŒã«ã¯ã ã»ãšãã©ã®éçš®ã«åãæ¶ãç·ãåŒãããŠãããã ãã«ã¯ã«ã€ãããã·ã§ãã¯ãåãããèªåã®åºã絶 æ»
ã®å±æ©ã«çããŠããéçš®ãæ±ããªããã»ãã®å¯¿ åžã¬ã¹ãã©ã³ãããããŠãããšããããšã ãã«ã€ãã ã¯ããããªãèªåã¯éãããšããããããšã²ãããã ã®ã ãšèšãã
ãããã10幎ãã«ã€ããã¯ãã®ãéããã㟠ããŸã倧ããåºããŠãã£ãã責任ããæŒæ¥ã«ããã· ãŒããŒãã ããæ±ããã¿ã¿ããããããŠããžã¿ãªã¢ã³ 寿åžã®ãã·ãŒã³ãããµã³ãã©ã³ã·ã¹ã³ã§äºã€ã®åºãæ åãããããšãã«ã€ããã¯ãã¯ã€ã®ç¬¬äžå·åºã§ãã ãçš®ãããããã«ã«ã®ç®ç«ããªãäžç»ã«éåºããã å®å
šãŽã£ãŒã¬ã³ã®å¯¿åžãäŸããå±
é
å±ã ã
2019幎ã®éåºä»¥æ¥ãã«ã€ãããšã¹ã¿ãã㯠æ¥ã
ãåºã®ä»äºã«æ
ç±ãåŸããŠãããæ¯æãã«ã€ã ãã¯ãã®æ¥ã®ãªã¹ãã確ãããåžå
ã®ãã¡ãã¡ã§è± è
ã麺ãªã©ã調éããéåžå Žã§ã¢ããããããéž ã¶ä»£ããã«éèåžå Žãžåºåããèåãå€§æ ¹ããã³ãŽ ãŒãªã©ãè²·ãæ±ãããã©ã®éèãæç©ããçãå
· åããã£ãã確ãããŠéžã¶ãè²ç²ã§ããã«ã€ããã«
Translation by Tomoko Shirota 翻蚳 = åç°æå
122 F FARE Izakaya
ìž ê³³ì ížë룰룚 ìë¹ì ì íµì ìž ìŽìì¹ŽìŒ ê°ë
ìì ìë¡ìŽ ë³íë¡ ìë¡ê² ë§ë³Žì€ ì ììµëë€.
TANE VEGAN IZAKAYA
ãŽã£ãŒã¬ã³å±
é
å±ãçš®
After learning about the realities of overfishing, chef Kin
Lui was inspired to open an entirely vegan sushi izakaya.
ahi and hamachi, Lui hits the local produce markets to scour crates of eggplant, daikon, and mango. He examines each item closely for perfect ripeness before making a final selection, an uncanny talent given the sushi chef is colorblind. âI go by feel,â he shrugs mysteriously.
Back at the restaurant, great attention goes into preparations. Tidy, rainbow-hued rows of pickled mango slices, bell pepper fillets, and okra line the display case. Radish are deftly pared into parchmentthin curls. Shiso leaf, smoked beet, and avocado crema stand at the ready. Despite the unusual sushi ingredients, tradition is still revered here, Lui explains as he carefully pares a cucumber into cylindrical sheaths. Having honed his skills in high-end Japanese restaurants, Lui hews close to that tradition, applying a meticulous, Zen-like methodology to his practice. The result? Sushi offerings that are exquisite, flavorful works of art, all courtesy of terra firma. Today, Lui takes satisfaction knowing that Tane appeals to even the most skeptical carnivore. The bustling izakaya proves it. Often, Lui says, first-time guests will survey the surrounding tables, taking in the jewel-like sushi rolls and nigiri with curiosity. Scanning the vegan menu, they inquire, âSo, what here tastes like fish?â To which Lui proudly responds, âNothing.â
ã¯ãçŽ æãéžã¶åªããæèŠãšããæèœãããããæ觊ã§ããããã§ããããšã ã«ã€ããã¯è¬ãããè¡šæ
ã§è©ãããããŠã¿ããã
åºã«æ»ããšãã«ã€ããã¯ä»èŸŒã¿ã«ç²Ÿç·»ãªéäžåãåŸãããé³åã±ãŒã¹ ã«ãã¡ããšäžŠã¶ã®ã¯ãè¹è²ã«æŒ¬ãããã³ãŽãŒã®ãã¯ã«ã¹ãåã身ã«ãããã« ããããŒããªã¯ã©ãçŽã®ããã«èãæ¡å¥ãã«ããå€§æ ¹ãããã®èãã¹ã¢ãŒã¯ã ãããŒããã¢ãã«ãã®ã¯ãªãŒã ãåºçªãåŸ
ã£ãŠããã寿åžãããšããŠã¯çã ããã®ãããããäŒçµ±ãžã®æ¬æã¯å°ããå€ãããªãããšã«ã€ããã¯æ
éã«ã ã
ããã食ãåãã«ããªãã説æãããé«çŽæ¥æ¬æçåºã§æè¡ã磚ããªã ãäŒçµ±ãéè¿ã§åžåããã«ã€ããã¯ãããã§åŠãã ãçŠ
ã®å¿ãåæ ãããã ãªç²Ÿç·»ãªæ¹æ³è«ãèªåã®åºã«ãåãå
¥ããŠããããã®ææãããã®ãã㪠ãæŽç·Žãããè±ããªé¢šå³ãæã€çŸé£ã®æããããé£æã¯ãã¹ãŠæ¯ãªãå€§å° ããç©«ãããã®ã°ããã ã
ãçš®ããæççãªèé£æŽŸã®äººã
ã«ãåãå
¥ããããŠããããšã«ãã«ã€ ããã¯æºè¶³ãæããŠãããçæ³ã®åºããã®èšŒæã ãåããŠæ¥ãã客ããã¯ã ãŸããã®äººã®é£ã¹ãŠãããã®ããã©ãã©èŠãŠãå®ç³ã®ãããªããŒã«å¯¿åžã æ¡ã寿åžãç®ã«ãšããããããŠã¡ãã¥ãŒãéããå°ããããã ããéã¿ãã㪠å³ãããã®ã¯ãã©ãã§ããïŒããã«ã€ããã¯èžãã¯ã£ãŠããçãããšããããã² ãšã€ããããŸããããã
124 F FARE Izakaya
PALM
Sometimes what happens around the table is just as interesting as what is on it. Each evening at HeihÅ House, amid sounds of clinking glasses and silverware, guests can be observed marveling, contemplating, and gesturing over the plates set before them. Here, the unexpected reigns.
For chef Aaron Lopez, HeihÅ House is an opportunity for creative experimentation, something he especially enjoyed as a sculpture and clay artist in his early 20s. During that time, he had opened an art gallery with friends, and although the enterprise didnât last long, Lopez loved the transient nature of the galleryâs art exhibits and the fresh energy they brought to his own creative process. Now, a decade later, the artist-turned-chef has channeled that love for exploratory exchange in a different way, transforming eclectic ingredients into impressive, progressive repasts.
ã¬ã¹ãã©ã³ã§ã¯ãããŒãã«ã®ãŸããã§èµ·ããŠããããšã«ããåäžã®æçãšåãã ããã«èå³ãæ¹ããããã®ã ãããã€ããŒã»ããŠã¹ãã§ã¯æ¯å€ãã°ã©ã¹ããã©ãŒã¯ ã®ã¶ã€ããé³ãé¿ããªããã客ãç®ã®åã«çœ®ãããç¿ã®äžèº«ã«ç®ãã¿ã¯ã£ã ãããŸããŸããšèŠã€ãããã倧ããªèº«æ¯ãã§é©ããè¡šçŸããŠããããã®åºã«ã¯ãæ å€æ§ãæºã¡æºã¡ãŠããã®ã ã
ã·ã§ãã®ã¢ãŒãã³ã»ããã¹ããã«ãšã£ãŠããã®åºã¯ã¯ãªãšã€ãã£ããªå®éš ã®å Žã§ããããããã¹ããã¯ã20代ã¯ããã®é ã圫å»ãšã¯ã¬ã€ã®ã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ããš ããŠæŽ»åããå人ãã¡ãšã¢ãŒãã®ã£ã©ãªãŒãéããããšããããã®ã£ã©ãªãŒã¯ãŸ ããªãéåºããŠããŸã£ãããå±ç€ºãåžžã«ç§»ãå€ããããšããããŠãã®å±ç€ºãèªå èªèº«ã®ã¯ãªãšã€ãã£ããªããã»ã¹ã«æ°é®®ãªãšãã«ã®ãŒãå¹ã蟌ãã§ãããããš ã«åã³ãæããããã ããããã10幎ãã¢ãŒãã£ã¹ãããã·ã§ãã«è»¢èº«ãããã ã¹ããã¯ããã®æ
ç±ããããŸããŸãªçŽ æãåãåãããŠãåè¶ããå
é²çãªé£ ãäœãåºãããšã«æ³šãã§ããã
PALM 126 F FARE Izakaya
ãã€ããŒã»ããŠã¹
HEIHÅ HOUSE
Since opening in 2020, HeihÅ Houseâs avant-garde approach has been the linchpin for its growing fan base.
Since opening in 2020, this avant-garde approach has been the linchpin for HeihÅ Houseâs growing fan base. Gone are any expectations of how food should look or taste or even feel. âThe objective is to take something and see how far it can go,â Lopez says. The restaurantâs menu offerings, which change every few months, feature unconventional flavors reminiscent of an apothecary: marshmallow root and chrysanthemum, sumac and saffron. Presentation, too, is an exercise akin to Aliceâs adventures in Wonderland: things are not as they seem. Miso soup arrives in deliciously unexpected, un-brothlike form. The Burning Tea House, a craft cocktail poured table side from a steaming teapot, is a piece of illusionary, interactive art: What looks hot to the touch is actually cold.
HeihÅ Houseâs emphasis on small dishesâa familiar hallmark of izakaya styleâis purposeful; the plates are meant to be shared. As dishes arrive at the table, guests hem in close, their curiosity piqued. Each bite offers an array of tastes and textures that are only sometimes synergetic, resulting in a momentary disconnect between mouth and mind. Lopez and his team delight in this sensory discombobulation and the animated discussion it invites among guests. âHeihÅâs focus is really in the experience,â Lopez explains.
That sentiment is underscored each night as Lopez and his team take guests on a journey of the senses. Under the glow of homemade lanterns, guests are served a key takeaway with each dish: At the intersection of ingredients, ideas, and innovation, the mind, too, can be fed.
2020幎ã®ãªãŒãã³ä»¥æ¥ãå¢ãç¶ãããã€ããŒã»ããŠã¹ã®ãã¡ã³ãã¡ ã®å¿ããšãããŠããã®ãããããã£ãã¢ãã³ã®ã£ã«ããªã¢ãããŒãã ããã㧠ã¯ãé£ã¹ãã®ã®å€èŠãå³ããããŠé£æããããäºæ³ãè£åãããé£æã䜿㣠ãŠãã©ã®ãããä»ãŸã§ãšéãããšãã§ããããåè² ãªã®ã§ãããšããã¹ããã
æ°ãæããšã«å€ããåºã®ã¡ãã¥ãŒã«ã¯ãå€é¢šãªè¬å±ã§åºé¢ããããªãæçãš ããŠã¯åç Žããªé¢šå³ãé »ç¹ã«åãå
¥ããŠããããã·ã¥ãããŠïŒãŠã¹ããã¿ã ã¢ãªã€ïŒã®æ ¹ãèããŠã«ã·ç§ã®ã¹ããã¯ããµãã©ã³ãçãã€ãããäžæè°ã®åœã® ã¢ãªã¹ãã®äžçã圷圿ãšããããå€èŠã ãã§ã¯äžèº«ã¯ãã£ã±ãããããªãã
å³åæ±ããããæ®éã®æ±ç©ãšã¯ã»ã©é ããæããããªã圢ã§ç»å Žããããã¶ã» ããŒãã³ã°ã»ãã£ãŒããŠã¹ããšããåã®ã¯ã©ããã«ã¯ãã«ã¯ãããŒãã«ãµã€ã ã§æ¹¯æ°ãäžãããã£ãŒããããã泚ããããã€ãªã¥ãŒãžã§ã³ã䜿ã£ãã€ã³ã¿ ã©ã¯ãã£ããªã¢ãŒãã ãäžèŠããŠç±ããã«èŠããã«ã¯ãã«ã¯ãå®éã«è§Šã£ãŠ ã¿ããšå·ããã
ãã€ããŒã»ããŠã¹ãåãå
¥ããŠããã®ã¯ãåããŠé£ã¹ãããã«äœãã ãå±
é
å±ã¹ã¿ã€ã«ã®å°ç¿æçãæçãããŒãã«ã«å±ããšã誰ããèå³ãã ããã§ã®ãã蟌ããã²ãšå£ããšã«ãå³ãšé£æãã·ããžãŒãäœã£ãŠãäžç¬ãå£ ã®ãªãã§èµ·ããŠããããšãšå¿ã«æµ®ãã¶ããšãåãé¢ããŠããŸããããã¹ãã ãšåšæ¿ã®ããŒã ã¯ããããªæèŠã®æ··ä¹±ã«ã客ããšãŸã©ããããã«ãã£ãŠäŒ 話ãçãäžããæ§åãå¿ãã楜ããã§ãããããã€ããŒã»ããŠã¹ã¯ããšã«ã ãã客ããã«èå³æ·±ãäœéšãæäŸããããšåã泚ãã§ãããã§ãããšãã ã¹ããã
æ¯å€ãããã¹ãããšã¹ã¿ããã¯ãã®ç²Ÿç¥ã®ããšãã客ãã¡ãæèŠã®æ
ãžãšãããªããæäœãã®ç
§æåšå
·ãæããããç¯ãã®äžã§äŸãããäžåã ãšã«ãé£æãã¢ã€ãã¢ãé©æ°æ§ãåºé¢ããå¿ãŸã§ããæºããããã®ã ã
128 PALM F FARE Izakaya
Izakaya Naruâs convivial intimacy and popular Okinawan-themed menu keep a steady stream of regulars coming through its doors.
Classic izakaya bar culture is alive and well in Hawaiâi, even when itâs hidden in small pockets of Honolulu. At Naru, izakaya seekers will find themselves in familiar territory: the chorus of friendly greetings from staff, lively conversations punctured by shouts of âsumimasen,â the constant need to scoot oneâs chair out of the path of servers loaded with pints of Orion draft. At Naru, the vibe is cozy, not crowded. The chaos is cheerful.
Naru may be small, but its spirit is big. When the izakaya first opened in 2010, owners were intent on maintaining its neighborhood-pub appeal. Although the
å±
é
å±ãã«
æãªããã®å±
é
å±æåã¯ãã¯ã€ã«ãã£ããæ ¹ã¥ããããã«ã«ã®è¡ã®å°ããªçé
ã«ãæ¯ã¥ããŠãããããããã«ãã§ããããªãã¿ã®å±
é
å±ãããé°å²æ°ãã客ã è¿ããŠããããã¹ã¿ãããå
æ°ãªå£°ãããããŠåºè¿ãããããã£ããããŸããã掻 æ°ããäŒè©±ãšãã¹ã¿ãããåŒã³æ¢ããããã¿ãŸããïŒãã®å£°ããªãªãªã³ããŒã«ã®ç ãžã§ãããèŒãããçãæã£ãŠéããµãŒããŒã«ãæ€
åãããããŠå Žæã空ãã ã客ãã¡ãããã«ã¯åãªãéšã
ãããšã¯éããå¿å°ããæž©ããªæ··æ²ãããã
ãã«ã¯ãã¢ããŸãããåºã ããã¹ããªããã¯å€§ããã ã2010幎ã«ãªãŒãã³ ãããšãããããªãŒããŒãã¡ã¯ãããŸã§ãè¿æã®é£²ã¿å±ãã®é
åãä¿ãšããšæ±ºã ãŠãããåºãåºããããã ãã®åžžé£å®¢ãå¢ããŠãããŒãã©ã«ãããŒãžã£ãŒã®ã¯ãª
130 F FARE Izakaya PALM
IZAKAYA NARU
izakayaâs growing patronage has merited expansion in the last decade, Chris Cody, Naruâs general manager, is reluctant to enlarge the space. âWe want to be able to talk to our customers,â Cody says, gesturing to the restaurantâs three small tabletops, which are all within a stoneâs throw of the eight-seat horseshoe bar. âIt would lose the feel if it got too big.â Such convivial intimacy is what makes Naru work. That, and its popular Okinawan-themed menu.
Originally envisioned as an udon spot, Naru shifted its focus after owners noted a steady stream of local Okinawan residents coming through the doors. Now, in addition to staple izakaya items like edamame and chicken karaage, Naruâs menu highlights Okinawan fare: bitter melon and pork dishes, Okinawan soba, and goya champuruâa tofu, bitter melon, spam, and egg dish that, according to Cody, is just like âthe kind Grandma makes.â Taco rice, which rose in popularity as a Tex-Mex yoshoku (Western cooking) snack found outside American military bases in Okinawa, is a fan favorite among Naru regulars. Served in a sizzling stoneware pot, the dish is prepared tableside and preferably accompanied by Naruâs house-made awamori. Deftly ladled from a trio of large glass canisters that feature flavors like shiso, pineapple, and coffee, this Okinawan-style shochu is a source of pride for Naru. Guests come specifically for it. âWe are the only one on the island who make it like this,â Cody says. Cody, who is originally from Tokyo, shares the nostalgic affection for Naru felt by many of its patrons, who consider the izakaya a home away from home. âNaru reminds me of a lot of the izakayas of Japan,â Cody says. âHow it looks, the energy, how we yell out and people respond.â Naruâs cheery hospitality shines from the initial greeting to the final farewell, when staff will often dash out to the street to wave a second goodbye. Itâs a special, sincere send-off for Naru guests, one that guarantees a heartfelt return.
ã¹ã»ã³ãŒãã£ããã¯åºãåºããããšã«æ¶æ¥µçã ããã客ãããšäŒè©±ãã§ãã è·é¢ã§ãªããšãããå°ããªããŒãã«3ã€ãšã8åžã®éŠ¬è¹åœ¢ã®ã«ãŠã³ã¿ãŒã ãã® åºå
ãæã§ç€ºããŠã³ãŒãã£ããã¯ããèšããã倧ãããããããšæããå€ã ã£ãŠããŸããŸãããããéœæ°ãªèŠªãã¿ãããããããŠæ²çžæçãäžå¿ãšãã 人æ°ã¡ãã¥ãŒãããã«ã®çé«ã ã
ããšããšã¯ãã©ãã®åºã ã£ãããåžžé£ã«å°å
ã®æ²çžç³»äœæ°ãå€ãã® ã«æ°ã¥ãããªãŒããŒãã¡ã¯ãäž»åãæ²çžé¢šã®åç®ã«åãæ¿ãããã¡ãã¥ãŒ ã«ã¯ãæè±ãé¶ã®åæããšãã£ãå±
é
å±ã®å®çªã«å ãããŽãŒã€ãšè±èã䜿 ãæ²çžæçãæ²çžãã°ãè±è
ãšã¹ãã ãšåµå
¥ãã®ãŽãŒã€ãã£ã³ãã«ãŒïŒã³ãŒ ãã£ããããããããã°ãã¡ããã®å³ãïŒãšãã£ãåã䞊ã¶ãæ²çžã®ç±³è»åºå° åšèŸºã§ã²ããŸã£ãæ¥æ¬é¢šããã¯ã¹ã¡ãã¯ã¹ãã¿ã³ã©ã€ã¹ã人æ°ã ããã«ã®ã¿ã³ ã©ã€ã¹ã¯ãç±ã
ã®ç³éã«å
¥ãããŠãããŒãã«ãµã€ãã§æ··ããŠäŸãããããã« ç¹è£œã®æ³¡çãšãšãã«é£ã¹ãã®ãããããã ã倧ããªã¬ã©ã¹è£œã®ãã£ãã¹ã¿ ãŒããæéãã泚ããããã®æ²çžé¢šçŒé
ã¯ããã«ã®çæ¿çååšãã·ãœé¢šå³ã ãã€ãããã«é¢šå³ãã³ãŒããŒé¢šå³ã®3çš®ã®æ³¡çãç®åœãŠã«éã£ãŠããåžžé£ã å€ããããã¯ã€ã§ãããã泡çãäœã£ãŠãã®ã¯ãã¡ã ãã§ãããšã³ãŒãã£ããã
æ±äº¬åºèº«ã®ã³ãŒãã£ããã¯ããã®åºã«é ãé¢ããæ
é·ãæããŠãã£ãŠ ããåžžé£ãã¡ã®æé·ã®å¿µãããç解ããŠãããããã«ã¯ãæ¥æ¬ã®å±
é
å±ãæ ãã ãããŸããèŠãç®ãã掻æ°ããã客ãããšå€§å£°ã§æ³šæã®ãããšãããããš ããããããã«ã®ããŠãªãã®å¿ã¯ãåºã«å
¥ã£ãç¬éããåºãåºããŸã§æãã¿ ãªãèŒããæŸã€ãåž°ãéã«ã¯ãã¹ã¿ãããåºã®å€ã«èµ°ãåºãŠæãæ¯ã£ãŠãã ãããšãããããããªå¿ã¥ãããåžžé£ãã¡ã®å¿ããšãããŠé¢ããªãã®ã ã
132 F FARE Izakaya
PALM
Experience a Different Side of Waikiki
Tucked away along the Gold Coast just outside of Waikiki is a haven welcoming you home. Unwind with upscale boutique amenities and personalized touches or soak up sun and sand at the beach just steps away. With a location that seamlessly blends island living and adventure, The Lotus Honolulu at Diamond Head is the perfect spot to do it
Use promo code "VIP" when you book an Ocean View Premium room and receive a complimentary welcome bottle of prosecco.
nothing at all. www.lotushonoluluhotel.com 1.808.922.1700 | 2885 Kalakaua Avenue, Honolulu, Hawaii 96815
all or
Built on a foundation of integrity and community, we aim to enhance the ability of Hawaiâiâs residents to live, work, and play in a culturally rich, safe, and healthy environment.
Established in 2016, the Foundation supports a broad range of charitable projects and organizations that address issues important to Hawaiâi residents and contribute to a culturally rich, healthy, and safe environment. Within our company, we encourage paid volunteer time off for our employees and provide matching of our employeesâ charitable contributions to magnify their impacts.
Nancy Infante Secretary and Treasurer
Duncan MacNaughton Chairman and Board Member
Jeff Arce Vice Chairman, President, and Board Member
Emily Porter Vice President and Board Member
Ian MacNaughton Board Member
Brett MacNaughton Board Member
Eric Tema Board Member
Charitable Giving & Board Service
For the past decade, MacNaughton has donated millions of dollars to Hawaiâi nonprofits. Many of our team members serve on community boards and volunteer for organizations supporting and addressing significant issues and causes like education, healthcare, sustainability, homelessness, job creation, and the arts.
After-School All-Stars
âAhahui Koa Änuenue
Aloha Medical Mission
Aloha United Way
American Cancer Society
American Heart Association
American Red Cross of Hawaiâi
American Renaissance Academy
Armed Services YMCA of Honolulu
Arthritis Foundation
Assets School
Bishop Museum
Boy Scouts of America, Aloha Council
Boys & Girls Club of Hawaiâi
Cancer Research Center of Hawaiâi Center for Tomorrowâs Leaders
Central Union Church Preschool
Chamber of Commerce Hawaiâi
Child and Family Service
Childrenâs Alliance of Hawaiâi
Claremont McKenna College
Contemporary Museum
Damien Memorial School
Diamond Head Theatre
Easterseals Hawaiâi
East-West Foundation
Family Programs Hawaiâi
Feed the Hunger Foundation
Friends of Lyon Arboretum
GIFT Foundation of Hawaiâi
Girl Scouts of Hawaiâi
Girl Scouts of Hawaiâi STEM Center
Hanahauâoli School
Hawaiâi 3Râs
Hawaiâi Appleseed Center
Hawaiâi Art Alliance
Hawaiâi Business Roundtable
Hawaiâi Council on Economic Education
Hawaiâi Educational Council
Hawaiâi Food & Wine
Hawaiâi Food Bank
Hawaiâi Institute for Public Affairs
Hawaiâi International Film Festival
Hawaiâi Island United Way
Hawaiâi Opera Theatre
Hawaiâi Pacific University
Hawaiâi Preparatory Academy
Hawaiâi State Junior Golf Association
Hawaiâi Symphony Orchestra
Hawaiâi Theatre Center
Hawaiâi Womenâs Legal Foundation
Hawaiian Humane Society
Historic Hawaiâi Foundation
HomeAid Hawaiâi
Honolulu Museum of Art
Honolulu Theatre for Youth
Honolulu Zoo Society
THE NATURE CONSERVANCY
Managing forests and reefs for climate impacts so that people and nature thrive. nature.org/hawaiipalmyra
HoâÅla NÄ Pua HUGS
Institute for Human Services
Joyful Heart Foundation
Juvenile Diabetes Foundation
Kalihi-Palama Health Center
KAMP Hawaiâi
Kapiâolani Health Foundation
Kapiâolani Medical Center for Women & Children
Kapolei Chamber of Commerce
Kapolei High School (Performing Arts Center)
Kidz For A Cause
KUPU Hawaiâi
Le Jardin Academy
Lokahi Giving Project
Lunalilo Home
Make-A-Wish Foundation
March of Dimes
NÄ Kama Kai
The Nature Conservancy
Navy League, Honolulu Council
Navy SEAL Foundation, Hawaiâi
North Shore Community Land Trust
Oâahu Economic Development Board
Outdoor Circle
Outrigger Duke Kahanamoku Foundation
Pacific Aviation Museum
Pali Momi Foundation
Partners in Development
Pauahi Foundation (Ke Aliâi)
Polynesian Voyaging Society
Punahou School
Puâuhonua Society
Queenâs Medical Center
Shane Victorino Foundation
Shidler College of Business, UH MÄnoa
Special Olympics Hawaiâi
St. Andrewâs Priory School
Teach for America
Trust for Public Land
UH Foundation
UH Ventures LLC
UHWO Creative Media Program
Unity School
USS Missouri Memorial Association
U.S. Vets
Vision to Learn
Waikīkī Community Center
YMCA of Oâahu
Board or Advisory Board Service
Past Board or Advisory Board Service
Volunteer Service
HOâÅLA NÄ PUA
HoâÅla NÄ Pua (New Life for Our Children) is commited to the prevention of child sex trafficking while providing a continuum of care for exploited youth through health education, advocacy, and community reintegration. Pearl Haven, a program of HoâÅla NÄ Pua, is now open. hoolanapua.org
AMERICAN RED CROSS Hawaiâi Red Cross alleviates human suffering in the face of emergencies by providing valuable resources in the worldâs most remote location. redcross.org/local/hawaii U.S. VETS We believe all veterans deserve every opportunity to live with dignity and independence. Every veteran deserves stability and a place to call home. U.S. Vets offers both temporary and permanent solutions to uplift at-risk, low-income, and homeless veterans and families. usvets.org KUPU Provides hands-on training in conservation, sustainability, and environmental education for young adults, with the goal of fostering our next generation of environmental and cultural stewards. kupuhawaii.org
Our Team in Action
We live, work, play, and raise our families here. MacNaughton Foundation endeavors to lift up our community, protect our natural resources, and inspire excellence in education and the arts. It is our pleasure to support the many community organizations that work tirelessly and with aloha across the Hawaiian Islands with our wisdom (board service), wealth (charitable contributions), and work (volunteer days).
Discover Kaimana Beach Hotel
Retreat to your oasis at Kaimana Beach, where reimagined suites and a beach-centric cocktail program await at the only boutique hotel located directly on Oâahuâs iconic Gold Coast.
Hau Tree at Kaimana Beach Hotel
Ranked among Travel + Leisureâs top 20 Hawaiâi resort hotels, Kaimana Beach Hotel is home to one of Honoluluâs best beachside brunch, lunch, and dinner spots, featuring an imaginative bar program led by Beverage Director Jen Ackrill.
At Hau Tree, find cocktails that are perfect for any time of day, from the Buena Vista Irish Coffee with Tullamore Dew, Kona Coffee and Cream to the Kapua Fizz with Roku Gin, Apricot Liqueur, Calamansi, Lime, Egg White, Absinthe, and Maraschino, as well as alcohol-free cocktails. For those who want to learn more about mixology and local spirits brands, Jen also hosts private classes in the hotelâs private dining room for groups of up to 15 people.
www.kaimana.com/dining Open daily from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m.
The Suites at Kaimana Beach Hotel
With a âcome as you areâ mentality and barefoot-casual style, the oceanfront Kaimana Beach Hotel was recently honored for the first time in Travel + Leisureâs Worldâs Best list of top resort hotels in Hawaiâi, ranking No. 15 following its property-wide reimagination.
Featuring a new modern-boho aesthetic by Henderson Design Group, Kaimanaâs newly redesigned ocean view and oceanfront suites boast stunning floor-to-ceiling windows and oversized balconies that appear to float above the ocean, providing the perfect respite to watch the sunrise and sunset with dramatic views of Waikiki or Diamond Head. The Pacific penthouse suite features panoramic ocean views, a private wraparound lanai, and 838 square feet of island-style beach home living. Palm print and shibori wallpapers, bright pillows in a rainbow of fabrics, and comfortable furnishings make any hour happy hour.
www.kaimana.com
Starting suite rates from $899/night.