KeAloha sings of ancestry, disability, and living harmoniously at Vancouver's Vines Art Festival
The artist honours and explores her Hawaiian, Tahitian, Indigenous, Chinese, and Irish heritage through music
KeAloha. Photo by Richie Loubaton
KeAloha is participating in Stl’a7shn-chet—Our Feast at Trout Lake Park as part of Vines Art Festival on August 14. The event starts at 1:30 pm PDT. KeAloha performs at 6:30 pm PDT.
VANCOUVER MUSICIAN KEALOHA’S name, which comes from her Hawaiian ancestry, means “the beloved” or “the breath of life”. Its root word, aloha, means more than “hello”; it also refers to living in harmony with everything around you.
A peaceful existence is very much on the singer-songwriter-drummer-dancer’s mind these days, as she seeks to gain a deeper understanding of what it means to be an artist living with disability related to chronic illness.
“For me, my name feels like it’s resonating in terms of learning how to live really harmoniously in an internal sphere with my life with a chronic illness disability, and how that engages with my communities and how I get to be present here,” KeAloha says during an interview with Stir via Zoom. “The gift of it is to have that level of understanding, compassion, and perspective on life. I have been reflecting a lot on how that value system of living relationally to things has a kinship with my Indigeneity of Turtle Island and other Indigenous cultures.”
Indeed, KeAloha is on a journey to uncover the stories, wisdom, and experience of her mixed heritage. Her familial history includes legacies of Polynesian navigators and dancers; trappers and healers of Lheidli T'enneh First Nation in and around so-called Prince George; Irish farmer-settlers, and Chinese immigrants.
These divergent, multifaceted layers of KeAloha’s very being—her bloodline, physical condition, and mental and spiritual outlook—all play into her song-writing. And she will be sharing her music at Vines Art Festival.
KeAloha is among the artists being featured at Vines’ Stl’a7shn-chet—Our Feast. The August 14 event is the fest’s largest event in two years, heralding the next era of public arts. Roaming performances, workshops, installations, concerts, and more will all take place.
The youngest of three, KeAloha was raised by a single mom in what’s known colonially today as Prince George. She has been immersed in cultural practice for as long as she can remember.
“My two siblings and I have been Hawaiian and Tahitian dancing since we were babies,” she says. “My mom taught us, and her dad taught her.”
The physical movement proved to be a pathway to spiritual connection.
“Performing ancestral dances felt like a natural way for me to be, with so much pride and so much belonging,” she says.
Shifting priorities
KeAloha, who is a graduate of the jazz program at Capilano University, where she specialized as a drummer, began navigating a shift in her physical self and barriers to performing and working as a musician around 2016. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to haul her equipment around, from gigs to session work. After taking time to rest and spend time with people close to her, she applied for a residency in Banff for Indigenous singer-songwriters in 2019. Out of that experience came three songs that she’s releasing this summer; her writing continued throughout the pandemic, resulting in more material that will end up on her forthcoming album. While in some ways she is just beginning a process of self-discovery, recent circumstances have allowed her to tap into innate knowledge and self-expression.
“I think my chronic illness is in many ways a blessing in disguise,” KeAloha says. “Chronic illness took me away from dance and drumming and led me to this space of really speaking who I am in a different way. My songs draw wisdom from my experiences living with chronic illness. I often find my writing comes from a really specific memory. I love to weave it out into this bigger fantasy, but I’m usually always starting from a true experience. My lens is through my body, and I’ve learned that my voice, and sharing these stories, can be healing.”
KeAloha. Photo by Dess
Kealoha plays ipu, a Hawaiian percussion instrument made from gourds. She has translated some of her lyrics in to the Hawaiian language, notably on a new single called “Mama’s Hands”. Working with the assistance of a consultant named Noenoe, she felt an immediate connection to her mother tongue. Yet there’s an irony to this yearning for her Hawaiian ancestry. “Coming from a low-income family, we couldn’t afford to go there,” she says. She dreams of one day spending time in Hawaii building community and attending a residency related to music, culture, and language
Meantime, KeAloha feels honoured to be performing at Vines Art Festival’s Stl’a7shn-chet—Our Feast. Festival communications director jaye simpson says a key theme this year is collaborative and intentional generosity.
“There is wealth in sharing a feast with our community, and we are so excited and proud of not just championing justice and diversity; we are made up of so many different folks,” simpson tells Stir. “The whole festival is full of pure entertainment and thought-provoking projects….We want to highlight the brilliance and continued kindness of our communities while also [being] unapologetically present.”
KeAloha considers being part of the festival an honour. “I had seen their efforts to be this accessible space and to invest in marginalized artists, to highlight talents that don’t often get to be seen,” KeAloha says. “I love thinking about how the word feast can be applied not for the intended use. In reading the artists’ list, these are absolutely people who I honestly see pieces of their art and I want to gobble it all up and nourish each other through presence and creative gifts.”
And there it is: Vines may prove to be a moment in time where there is harmony with everyone around you, just as in the spirit of aloha.
For more information, see Vines Art Festival.
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