Recommendations of the editorial team
What does he sing? Kacki Kacki? Titti itti? New Zealand songwriter Marlon Williams has pruded his Maori roots and recorded an entire album with texts in the language of the indigenous population. It sounds to German ears, everyone who has ever been to New Zealand knows that, sometimes a little childish, but turns out to Te Whare Tīwekaweka as a wonderful round, almost elegant pop language. The songs flow gently, calmly, sometimes shimmering through the reserved arrangements of Hawaiian harmonies, voices are wrapped in the most beautiful harmony, and the A-cappella opening “A Mawehe Ana Au” even reminds a little of a haka. Everything sounds comfortable here, almost unreal peaceful and friendly, and the melodies are as naive as they are wonderful. Even if you don’t understand the texts, the impression arises that Williams, in addition to his ex-girlfriend Aldous Harding, probably the best known indie artist New Zealand, tries to recover the language of his ancestors, a lost paradise that has probably never existed. Yes, that sounds pretty exactly like the motivation that also drives millions of tourists to New Zealand – and Te Whare Tīwekaweka could replace one or the other flight ticket.
Reason enough to ask Williams for a short interview with Maori, therapy and writer’s block!
ME: You said that making music is always therapy for you. What was the therapy goal of your first album with texts in Maori?
Marlon Williams: There was not one big goal, but different, smaller goals. Above all, it was about finding new expressions and a new language to express feelings. And maybe it was also about getting into the pure with my Maori-or at least about giving him a shape.
You didn’t speak much Maori in your childhood. Why?
My parents are both Maori, but at home only my mother spoke the language. And of the one year that I attended the Maori pre-school didn’t get there much.
Did you have to learn the language again to be able to write the album?
Not quite. The pronunciation was there, a feeling for the language too, but the vocabulary and grammar were practically not there. But even today my Maori is not really fluid, also because I have learned a lot through traditional, sometimes hundreds of year old songs. It is a bit like you have learned German mainly through hymns.
Was there a special moment when you knew you had to record a record in the Maori language?
No, there was no enlightenment, it just fit. I had time to make a new record and I had a kind of writer’s block at the moment. Then I thought: “If I have problems writing in English, then I can try Maori – and have problems with it.”
Musically, the album is much softer than you know it from you.
Interesting that you say that. I didn’t have the feeling that I would go musically in a different direction. The music came to me very naturally, but of course the language leads you through its special phrasing and the set structure, which is very different than in English, in a certain direction.
Does the album have a political message?
There is no message. For me, this album is a very personal thing for me. I started writing these songs to express myself to take a breath of my heart. But it is certainly important to bring out something in Maori in this tense political climate in which the equality of the Maori culture in New Zealand is pushed back. Seen in this way, to bring out this album, also a political act – whatever is a political act.