Sophie Kettley
Walking into Te Pou, you instantly feel a sense of familiarity. Classic songs that everyone knows are playing in the background creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. At the same time, the audience is greeted with a projection of both the Te Reo Māori and the Te Reo Pākehā versions of Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
Suddenly, Ngahiriwa Rauhina enters the space, getting ready for what seems to be a day of mahi until we are thrown into a coming-of-age style opening. It grabs the audience's attention, fills the room with laughter and even allows the audience to be a part of the show as they cheer for which Toitu Te Tiriti shirt our storyteller should be wearing.
I say, “storyteller”, this character remains nameless- a deliberate choice made by the playwright (Tainui Tukiwaho), deeming it unnecessary for there to be a fixed identity. Instead, he adopts the name of someone from the audience, a natural, powerful way to reinforce the idea that this storyteller could be any of us.
The play unfolds across different moments surrounding the 48 hours of Te Wehi’s imprisonment after the painting of the Te Reo Pākehā version of the Treaty exhibit in Te Papa. Rauhina effortlessly jumps between the role of the storyteller, Te Wehi and his cellmate, Brian, where we see how gum can be turned into an opportunity for prisoners to share their voices.
There are moments in which the storyteller’s sudden shifts in settings- from skydiving to driving a Formula One car- felt jarring, momentarily pulling the audience out of the story with these clunky transitions.
However, the final one of these shifts takes an unexpected turn. Just as I am preparing to disconnect again, the storyteller finds himself on the set of a Stephen Spielberg movie, taking a break at a lake, talking to a Doberman about justice.
One of the final lines of this scene, “Justice is what is best for the majority” left me with a sinking feeling and questioning what justice truly means to them.
Jane Hakaraia’s choice of projection added great depth to the performance not only visually, but emotionally. However, in one of the split-focus scenes, I found myself drawn to reading the letters written by the prisoners of Rimutaka in support of Te Wehi. Given that prisoners are often unheard and discriminated against voices in Aotearoa, the choice to project these letters felt both necessary and powerful, reinforcing one of the play’s key functions: to amplify prisoners' perspectives and highlight the quieter voices of rebellion in our society. I just wish the focus had allowed me the opportunity to fully engage with both the projected letters and Rauhina’s work on stage.
Tukiwaho’s writing is masterful in the way that it weaves humour into what can often be a deeply emotional conversation. A standout example of this is Te Wehi’s sentencing scene, delivered through a comedic lens. This moment leaves the audience with a striking statement, “When is the best time to stand up for the rights of your people?”.
Rauhina’s performance is a shining star of this play. He effortlessly shifts between light and dark, taking the audience from laughter to reflection, challenging us to consider our perspectives- a true testament to his talent.
ration the Queen’s veges continually challenges me to shift my perspective. It is a self-admitted social experiment that leaves a lasting impact on its audience, and leaves us with the question; “What will you do for your truths?” More info here.
I say, “storyteller”, this character remains nameless- a deliberate choice made by the playwright (Tainui Tukiwaho), deeming it unnecessary for there to be a fixed identity. Instead, he adopts the name of someone from the audience, a natural, powerful way to reinforce the idea that this storyteller could be any of us.
The play unfolds across different moments surrounding the 48 hours of Te Wehi’s imprisonment after the painting of the Te Reo Pākehā version of the Treaty exhibit in Te Papa. Rauhina effortlessly jumps between the role of the storyteller, Te Wehi and his cellmate, Brian, where we see how gum can be turned into an opportunity for prisoners to share their voices.
There are moments in which the storyteller’s sudden shifts in settings- from skydiving to driving a Formula One car- felt jarring, momentarily pulling the audience out of the story with these clunky transitions.
However, the final one of these shifts takes an unexpected turn. Just as I am preparing to disconnect again, the storyteller finds himself on the set of a Stephen Spielberg movie, taking a break at a lake, talking to a Doberman about justice.
One of the final lines of this scene, “Justice is what is best for the majority” left me with a sinking feeling and questioning what justice truly means to them.
Jane Hakaraia’s choice of projection added great depth to the performance not only visually, but emotionally. However, in one of the split-focus scenes, I found myself drawn to reading the letters written by the prisoners of Rimutaka in support of Te Wehi. Given that prisoners are often unheard and discriminated against voices in Aotearoa, the choice to project these letters felt both necessary and powerful, reinforcing one of the play’s key functions: to amplify prisoners' perspectives and highlight the quieter voices of rebellion in our society. I just wish the focus had allowed me the opportunity to fully engage with both the projected letters and Rauhina’s work on stage.
Tukiwaho’s writing is masterful in the way that it weaves humour into what can often be a deeply emotional conversation. A standout example of this is Te Wehi’s sentencing scene, delivered through a comedic lens. This moment leaves the audience with a striking statement, “When is the best time to stand up for the rights of your people?”.
Rauhina’s performance is a shining star of this play. He effortlessly shifts between light and dark, taking the audience from laughter to reflection, challenging us to consider our perspectives- a true testament to his talent.
ration the Queen’s veges continually challenges me to shift my perspective. It is a self-admitted social experiment that leaves a lasting impact on its audience, and leaves us with the question; “What will you do for your truths?” More info here.