Allison Roscoe has partnered with the Honolulu Museum of Art to construct a building that will adjoin the museum and house a classroom from which she could teach the art of papermaking, from Hawaiian kapa to Japanese indigo-dyed and shibori paper.
Hawaiʻi is one of the few places where misfits, gangsters, sailors, missionaries, mothers, and doctors can work and live together—and proudly show off their tattoos. The shock factor of tattoos is fading but the art is not, and getting a tattoo is no longer solely associated with social outcasts and criminals.
"What do shiny computerized renderings of the multi-million-dollar commercial and residential 'Kaka'ako' have to do with the community that raised art, culture and revenue through their own determination and creativity? In other words, how will graffiti fit between glass walls and corporate logos?"
When filmmakers Jeff Katts and Jason Suapaia were rejected from the Hawai‘i International Film Festival in 1999, they decided to make their own damn festival. 15 years later, it’s bigger and stronger than they ever could’ve believed.
Fish markets, dim sum stands, and medicinal herbs shops share blocks with trendy boutiques and wine bars. Chinatown’s transformation from a den of prostitutes and drug dealers to a destination for tourists and locals has been slow, but moving. And yet remnants of its seedier history continue to linger.
Pepakura. You’d be forgiven if you thought it was an exotic dish. Far from it. For the subculture of costume players (cosplayers), it’s the affordable way to create the intricate costumes they adorn at fan conventions. With paper.
Old chairs can be renovated into chic and modern works of art, plastic wire found on the beach may become the stuffing of an enormous whale, and shelves of knick knacks and random articles are ingredients for a beautiful new dish that feeds the community with laughter, surprise and wonder.
2,500 miles from the nearest continent, Hawaiʻi would seem to be an ideal spot to escape from a zombie-infected world. But what if the outbreak started here? After rounding up your friends and family, what would you do and where would you go?
The most contentious nodes of local culture are connected to material remains of Hawaiian culture, especially locations that are historically and spiritually significant to Hawaiian people but not officially “policed” or maintained. The summer home of King Kamehameha III, Kaniakapūpū (“The Singing Of The Land Shell”), is one such place.
“In the Western context,” Enos explains, “education is a pathway out of poverty, but, for our ancestral responsibilities, education is a pathway to responsibility. You are being armed with the ability to truly defend Hawaiʻi, and not with an AK-47.”
When the first missionaries arrived in Hawaiʻi from New England in 1820, the literacy rate had been practically zero. The missionaries set out to translate the Bible into Hawaiian and teach the Hawaiians to read it. What began as a means to spread Christianity quickly became a revolution of literacy throughout the Hawaiian Kingdom.
The student-run, noncommercial radio station KTUH has been keeping Hawai‘i’s airwaves diverse since 1969. Part of that process includes teaching and training new DJs to carry on the legacy. And by train, I mean some serious Radio Miyagi business.
I went to the Arctic to experience another type of environment, a place almost without architecture. I have long been fascinated with the Arctic—a place of extremes, incredibly fragile yet forcefully resistant to human presence.
In 2007, I joined a local archaeology company, digging for historical artifacts and ancient burials. I monitored construction sites and performed cultural assessments for development projects, dealing with any finds lawfully and with a culturally respectful nature. One particularly sensitive site was in Kaka’ako.
According to Chemistry.com, Hawai‘i ranks number one in the nation when it comes to looking online for love between the hours of midnight and 6 a.m., beating out top contenders Las Vegas, Brooklyn, and Long Beach. Why?
Oʻahu’s street-racing scene is alive and well and seemingly unaffected by the cheesiness of a certain film franchise starring Vin Diesel. So where are these powerful engines and brightly painted chassis going?
Four hundred and fifty miles away from Maui, the first plane ever to attempt to fly from the continental United States to Hawai‘i runs out of fuel. Commander John Rodgers—the second U.S. Navy pilot to earn his wings—brings the PN-9 down on the open ocean.
Like the clouds that move over the Pali peaks, the water that rushes down Likeke Falls, or the gusty wind that blows over the lookout, Hawaiʻi Route 61 is a conduit of perpetual motion, of coming and going. In all of its incarnations, it has been a necessity of commerce and community, and a witness of change.