Pop-Up Dance Performance by Artist Karli Jo List
Rooted in ‘Ōlelo No‘eau TBD (Currently in consultation with Sissy Lake-Farm)
For this public artwork commission, Maui choreographer and dancer Karli Jo List will co-create a site-responsive pop-up performance inspired by the Hui Mo‘olelo talk-story recording of cohort member Kia’i Collier of Hawaii Land Trust and his mother, Pūlama Collier.
Pūlama Collier, Hawaiian scholar, educator, artist, and philosopher & her son Kia’i Collier, Waihee Manager, Hawaii Land Trust
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In 2025, this two-part talk-story recording was captured through our Hui Mo‘olelo program, which was led by Kumu Sissy Lake-Farm. Professional artists from across the globe submitted proposals to translate Hui Mo‘olelo recordings as a work of public art. Upon selection by a community panel, artist Karli Jo List entered a period of project development to meet the storytellers, learn more about the context of their recordings, workshop ideas and interpretations with cultural and community consultants, and infuse the evolving piece with their feedback.
Listen to the words inspiring this artwork: The resulting pop-up dance performance will be unveiled in April 2026. Visit this page for ongoing project developments. |
About
The proposed site-specific dance performance brings moʻolelo to life through movement, sound, and place-based materials drawn from Hāmākuapoko. Grounded in the recorded talk-story between Pūlama and Kiaʻi Collier, the work uses wind (makani) as a central throughline symbolizing intuition, language awakening, and guidance, while exploring imagery of thresholds, regeneration, and relationality. Dancers may be adorned in hau-dyed fabrics, connecting the enduring canoe plant to ancestral knowledge, ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, and Pūlama’s family ʻaumākua, the mano. The choreography traces a journey of construction and renewal - crossing thresholds, building collective structure, and arriving at the wellspring of new growth, embodying concepts of kūpuna as regenerative sources, holographic perception, and the continuity of ʻike. Incorporating excerpts from the original recording, ambient sounds of Hāmākuapoko, and opportunities for community-engaged movement workshops, the performance centers Aloha Consciousness as both an artistic framework and a call to collective healing through aloha ʻāina, aloha kanaka, and aloha akua.
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Artist Bio: Karli Jo List was born and raised in Los Angeles. She grew up in athletics, musical theater, music, dance, and mixed media art. She received her BFA in Dance with a Minor in Cultural Anthropology from Chapman University in 2020. She currently dances with Adaptations Dance Theater and teaches and choreographs at Momentum Dance Maui.
Karli Jo is an avid singer/songwriter, songwriting being one of her earliest passions. Over the last year and a half she has been deepening her roots down in Maui through volunteer work at Kukuipuka heiau and at Nu‘u through Hawaii Island Land Trust as well as some iwi kūpuna protection in Hāmākuapoko. She has been familiarizing herself with native and endemic plants and getting to know the sounds of ‘ōlelo Hawaiian. |
Community Consultations
ʻOhana Collier (1/14/26)
Project Timeline
Jan '26 Next Steps:
Feb '26 Next Steps:
Mar '26 Next Steps:
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Hui Mo'olelo Transcription(s)
Maliko (Excerpt)
Pūlama: This is an example of Maliko. So our family near... near past comes directly from Maliko. Presently, our family is in Kuau, which our home is. I live in the house that my father built in 1950 which I got from my purchase from my aunt, Auntie Lenny Achan, Dora. Dora Achan. And across the street is my grandmother's property, which we still have our family home there. The most recent of of our family to live there was my mother, she passed away in 2023 and my brother, who also passed away in 2023, but we still have our ʻāina there in Kuau. That was my grandmother's property. She had her home there and prior to 1946 she lived in Maliko, and the reason she moved up to Kuau was because of the tidal wave in 1946 which decimated the whole bay, excuse me, decimated the whole bay all the way up. Supposedly, the wave went over a half a mile all the way up into the valley, and washed out, completely, homes that were there, living there. This was towards the end of the sugar plantation era, with the big train that was going over there and they had different... because, it's after the war, during the war, during that time. And so what was, and I'm getting to that example, is that so Maliko, to us, is to my family, is a place that... we are... storied places that tell us of my ʻaumakua, which is a manō that resided at Maliko outside and basically, very, very small space between Hoʻokipa and Maliko, and story of my grandfather, who was sent to Kalaupapa for leprosy, although he didn't have leprosy. And there were many numbers, there are many stories like that, that they were they were sent there because of association with that person who had leprosy or was within the family. Kaluiaikoolau is another example of that. But my grandfather was that. So the woman in which he was living with did have leprosy, was sent to Kalaupapa, and his wahine had passed and so he wanted to leave Kalaupapa, and had no way of leaving Kalaupapa. So he called upon his ʻaumakua, who are coming from Maliko, coming from Halehaku, Hamakualoa side of Maui and rode on the back of the shark back to Maliko. These are the stories my father had told me. My grandmother has told me. My auntie has told me, my cousin, my older cousin, she's my cousin, but she was like my auntie, because she was a lot older, has told me, and I have told my children. And so these are the connectivities to a place that sometimes are shrouded in myth, right? And it's like, is that real? Really? Yeah, yes, it is. And so when the, so, Maliko again, is a place of legend for my family, directly straight up and but also a place where my grandmother resided and that we have iwi kūpuna there that people still remember my grandmother having stopped there at Maliko prior to the tidal wave when they were traveling from Hana or the east side of Maui, northeast, especially Koʻolau, coming in with my grandfather who was adopted by a Poʻopaʻa who was coming from Keʻanae. Koʻolau in Keʻanae. Keʻanae in Koʻolau. So these stories are very alive to us, to me, and even when I go there, I feel it. And so we still have iwi kūpuna and and all of these kinds of, you know, relationships and relationalities to a place.
Waiheʻe (Excerpt)
Kiaʻi: Loko iʻa kalo is six acres big, so it's not too big, but, you know, it sits in within a 27 acre wetland. So that's the size of it, not the biggest of all lokoʻs, but, you know, very significant, because it is the first of its kind being restored. The water is projected to come back June 20, 2026, and that's a huge time for and I also want to mention that, you know, with restoration of a space, especially when you bring back wai, because of what waii brings, not only physically, but spiritually, is a huge conduit for a lot of people in the community. And wai attracts people.
Pūlama: Yes and yes
Kiaʻa: It's also a part of you know, re-educating kūpuna, in a sense, in certain ways, not always, but certain ways. Because, like you said it, they haven't seen that place function in that way…
Pūlama: Ever.
Kiaʻi: You know what I mean?
Pūlama: They don't have that direct experience, but yet, they do have a feeling about it, and that's that's part of what that that field of Aloha, that that field of knowing and understanding that cannot be so much you know read, you cannot read, that you have to feel it, and that comes with direct experience with place and people, place and people, because if you don't have direct understanding and or relationship with place and people. You will still be in a void. You'll still have something that you're going to be in a deficit of.
Pūlama: This is an example of Maliko. So our family near... near past comes directly from Maliko. Presently, our family is in Kuau, which our home is. I live in the house that my father built in 1950 which I got from my purchase from my aunt, Auntie Lenny Achan, Dora. Dora Achan. And across the street is my grandmother's property, which we still have our family home there. The most recent of of our family to live there was my mother, she passed away in 2023 and my brother, who also passed away in 2023, but we still have our ʻāina there in Kuau. That was my grandmother's property. She had her home there and prior to 1946 she lived in Maliko, and the reason she moved up to Kuau was because of the tidal wave in 1946 which decimated the whole bay, excuse me, decimated the whole bay all the way up. Supposedly, the wave went over a half a mile all the way up into the valley, and washed out, completely, homes that were there, living there. This was towards the end of the sugar plantation era, with the big train that was going over there and they had different... because, it's after the war, during the war, during that time. And so what was, and I'm getting to that example, is that so Maliko, to us, is to my family, is a place that... we are... storied places that tell us of my ʻaumakua, which is a manō that resided at Maliko outside and basically, very, very small space between Hoʻokipa and Maliko, and story of my grandfather, who was sent to Kalaupapa for leprosy, although he didn't have leprosy. And there were many numbers, there are many stories like that, that they were they were sent there because of association with that person who had leprosy or was within the family. Kaluiaikoolau is another example of that. But my grandfather was that. So the woman in which he was living with did have leprosy, was sent to Kalaupapa, and his wahine had passed and so he wanted to leave Kalaupapa, and had no way of leaving Kalaupapa. So he called upon his ʻaumakua, who are coming from Maliko, coming from Halehaku, Hamakualoa side of Maui and rode on the back of the shark back to Maliko. These are the stories my father had told me. My grandmother has told me. My auntie has told me, my cousin, my older cousin, she's my cousin, but she was like my auntie, because she was a lot older, has told me, and I have told my children. And so these are the connectivities to a place that sometimes are shrouded in myth, right? And it's like, is that real? Really? Yeah, yes, it is. And so when the, so, Maliko again, is a place of legend for my family, directly straight up and but also a place where my grandmother resided and that we have iwi kūpuna there that people still remember my grandmother having stopped there at Maliko prior to the tidal wave when they were traveling from Hana or the east side of Maui, northeast, especially Koʻolau, coming in with my grandfather who was adopted by a Poʻopaʻa who was coming from Keʻanae. Koʻolau in Keʻanae. Keʻanae in Koʻolau. So these stories are very alive to us, to me, and even when I go there, I feel it. And so we still have iwi kūpuna and and all of these kinds of, you know, relationships and relationalities to a place.
Waiheʻe (Excerpt)
Kiaʻi: Loko iʻa kalo is six acres big, so it's not too big, but, you know, it sits in within a 27 acre wetland. So that's the size of it, not the biggest of all lokoʻs, but, you know, very significant, because it is the first of its kind being restored. The water is projected to come back June 20, 2026, and that's a huge time for and I also want to mention that, you know, with restoration of a space, especially when you bring back wai, because of what waii brings, not only physically, but spiritually, is a huge conduit for a lot of people in the community. And wai attracts people.
Pūlama: Yes and yes
Kiaʻa: It's also a part of you know, re-educating kūpuna, in a sense, in certain ways, not always, but certain ways. Because, like you said it, they haven't seen that place function in that way…
Pūlama: Ever.
Kiaʻi: You know what I mean?
Pūlama: They don't have that direct experience, but yet, they do have a feeling about it, and that's that's part of what that that field of Aloha, that that field of knowing and understanding that cannot be so much you know read, you cannot read, that you have to feel it, and that comes with direct experience with place and people, place and people, because if you don't have direct understanding and or relationship with place and people. You will still be in a void. You'll still have something that you're going to be in a deficit of.