Marlon Williams – Te Whare Tīwekaweka
Friday 27 June
Christchurch Town Hall
Reviewed by Sophie Ricketts
Braving the rain and the bitter cold, myself and a companion joined over 2000 others tonight to see our lovely Lyttelton lad Marlon Williams perform in the Christchurch Town Hall. There was a lively buzz of excitement all throughout the building as we arrived; it is always extra special to see a performer on “home turf”, especially when they are such a well regarded star.
Nearly every seat in the Douglas Lilburn Auditorium was full and my friend remarked that this was the first time she has come to a fully-seated gig here. Her comment gave me pause to think of the many great concerts and gigs I’ve attended in this space over the last two decades, acts from overseas as well as New Zealand artists: jazz, blues, pop, rock, orchestral, and country – but this would be the first time all the music would be sung to me in Te Reo Māori. Marlon’s new record, Te Whare Tīwekaweka, is wholly centred around Reo Māori and watching it be performed live was, without exception, one of the best concerts I’ve attended.
Though my understanding of Reo Māori is limited, my appreciation of it is limitless. As one of the only official languages of NZ, it is wonderful to see it receiving more attention in mainstream arts and media as well as renewed enthusiasm outside of classrooms. Marlon’s own journey with the language has been well documented and the creation of this album, and the accompanying documentary film (Marlon Williams: Ngā Ao E Rua – Two Worlds) which is playing in cinemas now, have been labours of love, sweat and tears.
At its core, I have always believed music to be a powerful source of connection. An opportunity to share identity and build community, while fostering a sense of belonging. Nowhere was this more apparent then inside the Town Hall tonight. The multi-generational crowd couldn’t get enough of Marlon, his band the Yarra Benders, and his close friends and support act Kommi and Tay Renee. There really were people of all ages spread throughout the crowd – including Marlon’s own 97-year-old nana! His music traverses that rare sliver in the Venn Diagram where everyone in the house is happy when it comes on. His silky voice and haunting melodies create a potent combination; there were times I think I held my breath. What a joy to bear witness to this connection within such a wide cross section of our community.
Between the current political climate, the cost of living crisis, and the distress I feel about the situation in the Middle East, I feel like all the world feels a bit like a whare tīwekaweka (a haunted house, a house in disarray), but through transformative shared experiences like what we encountered tonight we get a little bit closer to healing and putting it back together. I wiped a tear from each eye, and looked up at the lights twinkling on the ceiling like stars. This album feels like a celebration, a revolution, and a reverie. To hear it performed live was a blessing and a joy.
