Its multi-layered and nuanced qualities need to be experienced far and wide
- TE RĀKAU
- Jun 23
- 5 min read
Review by John Smythe 22nd Jun 2026
In May 2025 Hurō Productions premiered a two-hander version of Waenga at the late-lamented Te Auaha Tapere Iti, then took it to Dunedin in March this year. Now Te Rākau Hua o Te Wao Tapu in partnership with Hurō Productions are presenting a developed production with nine performers – for a short season at Toi Aro Art Centre, 3 Market Lane, Wellington (replacing Toi Poneke in Abel Smith St) then a tour of 21 venues across multiple venues with public and schools shows (click ‘Production /details’ above).
Marae Theatre tikanga includes a warm welcome from Kaitohu / Director) Regan Taylor in the foyer area. There is a change in tone when he and an assistant don hi-vis vests and marshal us into the auditorium where pulsating music plays and the cast confronts us with impactful, choreographed movements culminating in a handcuffed posture (Kaitito Nekehanga / Choreographer: Tānemahuta Gray) as we are directed to our seats. The experience of being controlled and having to obey is just enough to align us with what we are about to witness. And if we feel an impulse to resist authority, that is relevant too.
A suited young man meticulously places a table and two chairs for optimal viewing by a surveillance camera. A sudden blaring of sirens and flashing blue and red lights herald the throwing in of a young woman by police constables.
She is furious and demands to know where her guitar is. He tells her this behaviour will only make things worse. She assumes he’s a cop and will take a while to accept he’s her duty lawyer and on her side. The summary of ‘facts’ he’s been given says she is being charged with inciting violence and disrupting the public order. She is too confused and upset to clearly recall exactly what happened but does have the wit to ask how music can hurt people.
The setting for the events in question is evoked with a lively ensemble rendition of ‘Uncle Rama’s Corner Store’ – the first of five musical interventions that embellish and alleviate the intensity of the often darkly satirical story that unfolds (contributors to Kaitito Waiata / Song composition and arrangement: Helen Pearse-Ōtene, Rameka Tamaki, Hariata Moriarty, Brooke Wharehinga, Paige Wilson, Tamati Moriarty).
Co-writers Hariata and Tamati Moriarty reprise their central roles as street musician Connie and duty lawyer Grayson respectively with mutually assured conviction, as she reciprocates his attempts to divine her truth by bringing his to the surface. While each is initially isolated in their reality, the symbiosis of their interactions are continuously engaging and progressively enlightening. Their well-crafted script (mentored by the Kaiārahi / Dramaturgy of Helen Pearse-Otene) gives dramatic impetus and importance to the present action through Connie’s aspiration to audition for the NZ School of Music.
The importance of language in discovering truths is exemplified in Connie revealing her full name is Conscioux Lee Smith (“Words are spells,” she says) and Grayson’s turning out to be Te Kohomai i te Tonga o te Rā Mete (Kohomai for short). More routinely the language of the law embodies countless microaggressions that discriminate against minorities and too often become overt aggressions – Connie’s arrest being a case in point.
Police Constables Duncan and Mere are made credible upholders of the law as they see it by Ryan Holtham and Rylee Herewini. It seems, for example, they missed the memo about it being illegal to photograph ‘suspicious-looking’ people in the street unless they have been arrested. As for remembering to wear their body-cams … Their ilk would need to see this play to gain some understanding of how their decisions and actions over what they see as routine policing could impact the trajectory of a life.
As top fan-girl of Connie’s talent, self-styled Te Tiriti ally, activist and influencer Peyton is satirically portrayed by Brooke Wharehinga. Her hyper-excited social media posts leave us to decide whether she’s sincerely using her influence as a promoter of beauty products to campaign for justice for Connie, or cynically using Connie’s plight as way of selling more Princess P Paua Shell Exfoliating Scrubs. Brooke’s superb rendition of ‘Cheating the Minority’, backed by three white plastic patu-weilding wāhine, almost makes me believe Peyton is sincere.
Next door to Uncle Rama’s Corner Store is The Crystal Shop, whose operators Gwendoline and Gavin are wickedly manifested by Mycah Keall and Matiu Rata. They too have a song, ‘In the Crystal Shop’ (“just come to the back if you want crystal ***”). Their particular brand of counter-culture enlightenment turns out to be anti-culture entitlement: a microcosm of a syndrome that is all too prevalent in Aotearoa New Zealand.
The revelation of Grayson/Kohomai’s own run-in with the police, years before, is rivetingly conveyed. The state of Connie’s mental health comes into recurring focus with her “Something’s happening” moments, supported by the ensemble’s manifestations of what she calls “dark psychology”. This may relate to the ‘Thank You for Civilising Me’ song she sings, backed by the full ensemble, before she gets arrested (lyrics below).
Ringa Pūoro / Musician Rameka Tamaki is a vital component of the onstage performances and Kaihoahoa Tūrama / Lighting Designer Janis CY Cheng is exemplary as the technical operator of light and sound (Kaitito Puhoro / Sound Design, Reon Max Rose, and Haami Hawkins (from 2025). As usual, Kaihoahoa Kākahu / Costume Designer Sheila Horton excels not only in capturing the characters with their clothes but also in ensuring necessary quick changes are easily achieved.
Waenga may be translated as “the middle, among, midst, amid, between, the intervening space” (Te Aka). I’m still pondering how best to apply that to Waenga the play, among the many possibilities.
You’ll have to see the play to see how it’s resolved. Let me just say it’s uplifting, powerfully supported by the ensemble singing ‘Kei ōu Ringa te Ao’ (the world is yours).
Kaitohu / Director Jim Moriarty has ensured the multi-layered and nuanced qualities of Waenga play out with a fluency that alternately draws us in empathetically, then provokes our more objective assessment of its insights. The post-show kōrero – part of the Marae Theatre tikanga – is, as always, a way of feeling the “collective mauri” Connie mentions in reference to the Toitu Te Tiriti Hikoi she participated in.
As with so many Te Rakau productions, this needs to be experienced far and wide.
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‘Thank you for civilising me’
Thank you for civilising me
With your entitlement and superiority
Thank you for imperialism, capitalism, racism,
And a legacy of internalised oppression
A mentality that tries to keep me down
A taniwha called Whakamā that says I’m not good enough
I’m lazy and all that stuff I’ve heard it all before
There’s so much for me to be grateful for
But wait, there’s even more
Trees that lose their leaves
Health inequities
And the introduction of foreign disease
I didn’t even know I needed these
Three- part harmonies
Ching ka ching, ka ching ka ching
10 guitars and the Māori strum
Thank you, I’ll keep that one!
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