The Art of Hula: Storytelling Through Movement and Music

The Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo draws roughly 30,000 spectators each April, but the real competition happens at the hālau level — traditional schools where dancers spend years perfecting the connection between movement and meaning. Hula is not performance for its own sake; it is the primary vehicle through which Native Hawaiians have preserved genealogies, historical events, and spiritual beliefs across generations. This article breaks down the dance’s dual styles, its sacred origins, the rules that governed practitioners, and how you can observe it respectfully today.

The 2024 Merrie Monarch winners included Hālau Ka Lei Mokihana O Leināʻala, whose dancers wore pāʻū — traditional skirts made from mulberry tree bark that they harvest and beat themselves until the fibers bend. That level of material preparation is not a costume choice; it reflects the discipline embedded in every aspect of hula practice. But the art form has survived suppression, near-erasure, and commercial dilution, and what visitors see at a hotel luau today often bears little resemblance to the protocols observed within a hālau.

Hula Kahiko vs. Hula ʻAuana: The Two Branches of a Living Tradition

The distinction between ancient and modern hula is not merely historical — it governs everything from instrumentation to attire to the spiritual state of the dancer.

Hula Kahiko (ancient hula) is the older, more spiritually rigorous form. Dancers perform to oli (chant) without melodic instruments, though percussion accompanies them: the ipu (gourd drum), pūniu (coconut shell and fish skin drum), and stones or sticks struck together. Movements are sharp, grounded, and deliberately angular. Traditional Kahiko attire for both men and women consisted of a paʻū (skirt) made from kapa (barkcloth), often dyed and stamped with geometric patterns, with nothing above the waist. Lei and kūpeʻe (bracelets and anklets made of shells, ferns, or foliage) drew attention to the hands and feet — the primary storytelling instruments.

In contrast, Hula ʻAuana (modern hula) emerged after Western contact and incorporates melodic instruments — guitar, ʻukulele, and bass. The 2024 Merrie Monarch winners Hālau Kekuaokalāʻauʻalaʻiliahi performed an ʻauana piece called “A Kona Hema Au” honoring King David Kalākaua, who helped revive hula in the late 1800s. Dancers in ʻauana wear velvet dresses or Western-influenced skirts and move with flowing, sweeping gestures. The ʻulīʻulī — a feathered gourd rattle — is a signature ʻauana implement. The two styles coexist today, but they demand different skill sets, and many hālau train students in both.

Sacred Origins and the Weight of Kapu

Hula was never purely entertainment. Its creation stories tie directly to Hawaiian deities, and the rules surrounding practice were — and in some hālau, still are — strict enough to govern what a dancer could eat or wear.

Multiple moʻolelo (stories) describe hula’s divine origins. The most frequently cited deity is Laka, the hula goddess, portrayed in chants as the source of inspiration for movements and overall artistic expression. In a separate tradition, the goddess Kapo is credited as the first kumu hula, establishing the first hālau on Molokaʻi at Kāʻana. The most well-documented saga involves Pele and her sister Hiʻiaka, whom the author Hoʻoulumāhiehie identified as the patron goddess of hula in a 1905–1906 newspaper serial. According to that account, Hiʻiaka learned the dance from her companion Hōpoe by the sea at Nānāhuki in Puna — until Pele, driven by jealousy, turned Hōpoe to stone. That epic, filled with chants still preserved by practitioners today, illustrates how hula served as a conduit between the spiritual and human worlds.

Because of these sacred ties, traditional hula demanded strict kapu (restrictions). Practitioners’ lives were devoted to the art form, and their actions were limited — including what they could eat, where they could go, and what they could wear. Their role gave them the exclusive responsibility of presenting offerings and prayers to the hula gods on behalf of the people. Hula was often performed at religious ceremonies, chiefly celebrations, and historical commemorations. Many compositions were believed to be divinely inspired. The hālau hula, for centuries, was one of the primary spaces in Hawaiian society where traditional knowledge transferred from one generation to the next. As kumu hula Pelehonuamea Harman put it: “Our stories got passed down through the songs that endured. So too did our ʻloinaʻ — our customs and practices. You ask permission before you go and pick your greenery for hula. You ask permission before you enter the ʻhālauʻ (school grounds). Some of these practices endured in hula schools.”

Where to See Hula Respectfully

Public performances happen year-round, but the most significant — and most restrictive — is the Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, held the week after Easter. Tickets sell out within hours, and the competition itself is not filmed for broadcast in its entirety. For visitors who cannot secure seats, the festival also includes a hōʻike (exhibition) and craft fair that are open to the public. Outside of Merrie Monarch, the annual Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture rotates among host nations but has been held in Honolulu, drawing hālau from across the Pacific.

Hotel luaus almost exclusively feature ʻauana-style hula with Western instrumentation. If you want to see Kahiko, look for events hosted by a hālau at a community center or cultural festival. The Polynesian Cultural Center on Oʻahu offers a nightly show that includes both styles, but the context is educational rather ceremonial — a distinction worth noting. The relationship between lei making and hula is close: dancers often wear lei hulu (feather lei) or lei palaoa (ivory lei) during performances, and preparing these adornments is itself a ritual.

A genuine limitation: no public performance will ever replicate the atmosphere inside a hālau. Certain chants are restricted, certain movements are reserved for initiates, and the spiritual protocols that govern a real practice session — asking permission before entering the hālau, before picking greenery, before performing a specific mele — are invisible to an audience. The best way to understand hula beyond the surface is to attend a talk story session with a kumu hula, which some cultural centers and museums offer.

Planning Your Visit: Timing, Protocol, and What to Avoid

Knowing when to go and how to behave matters more than where you sit.

When Hula Season Runs

The Merrie Monarch Festival sets the calendar for hula in Hawaiʻi, but smaller competitions — the Queen Liliʻuokalani Keiki Hula Competition in June, the King Kamehameha Hula Competition in March — draw dedicated audiences. These events are not tourist productions; seating is limited, and late arrivals often stand. If you plan around these dates, book accommodation six months out. Outside of competition season, many hālau hold end-of-year hōʻike between November and January, which are less crowded but also less publicized.

Photography and Participation Rules

Do not photograph or video a hula performance without checking the hālau’s policy. Some allow still photography during ʻauana but prohibit it during Kahiko, which is considered spiritually sensitive. Never touch a dancer’s lei or regalia — these items are often imbued with personal or ritual significance. If a kumu hula invites the audience to learn a basic movement, participate quietly and do not correct others. The kapu system that governed hula practice still informs how these spaces operate today.

On the Ground: What to Know Before You Go

Language Matters More Than You Think

The revival of ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi is inseparable from the revival of hula. When kumu hula Pelehonuamea Harman teaches a song her great-grandmother composed, she does so in Hawaiian — and expects her students to understand the lyrics without translation. Visitors who learn a few words of Hawaiian before attending a performance show respect that is noticed. “Mahalo” and “aloha” are basic; knowing “hālau” (school), “kumu” (teacher), and “mele” (song/chanted composition) demonstrates effort. The oral tradition that carries hula forward depends on language fluency, and the most respected hālau now require it.

What Dancers Carry and Why

Hula implements are not props. The pūniu (coconut shell and fish skin drum) carried by dancer Nathan Oki at the 2024 Merrie Monarch is a traditional percussion instrument that requires specific handling. The ʻulīʻulī (feathered gourd rattle) used by Hālau Kekuaokalāʻauʻalaʻiliahi produces a sound that mimics wind through trees. Dancers may also carry gourds, sticks, or stones depending on the mele. Each implement has a correct grip, a correct angle, and a correct moment to sound. Misusing one in a hālau setting would be corrected immediately.

Hula in Hawaiʻi: Your Questions Answered

What is the difference between hula and other Polynesian dances?

Hula emphasizes hand and arm gestures that interpret the mele (song or chant) word by word, adding a secondary layer of meaning. In contrast, Tahitian ʻori focuses more on rapid hip movement, and Samoan sāsā is a seated group slap dance. Hula’s storytelling function — transmitting genealogies, historical events, and spiritual beliefs — is its defining characteristic.

Can anyone learn hula, or is it restricted to Native Hawaiians?

Many hālau accept non-Hawaiian students, but enrollment comes with expectations: commitment to protocol, respect for kapu, and in some schools, a requirement to learn ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi. You will not be turned away for your ethnicity, but you will be held to the same standards as any other student. Cultural tourism that treats hula as a drop-in activity misunderstands the hālau’s function.

Why was hula suppressed in Hawaiian history?

After Western contact, Christian missionaries condemned hula as pagan and pressured the Hawaiian monarchy to restrict it. King Kalākaua — the “Merrie Monarch” — actively revived hula in the late 1800s, but it was not until the Hawaiian Renaissance of the 1970s that the practice saw widespread revitalization. That suppression is why the current generation of Hawaiian-language-fluent dancers is the first in nearly a century.

Is it disrespectful to wear a hula skirt or lei as a non-Hawaiian?

Wearing a commercially made grass skirt to a costume party is widely considered inappropriate because it trivializes a sacred cultural practice. Wearing a lei given to you at a cultural event is respectful — accepting it with both hands and a slight bow acknowledges the gesture. The distinction is context and intent. If you are unsure, ask a local practitioner rather than assuming.

What does a kumu hula actually do?

A kumu hula (literally “source of hula”) is not just a dance instructor. They are the keeper of the hālau’s repertoire of mele, chants, and protocols — often inherited from their own kumu. They decide which compositions are appropriate to teach, when students are ready to perform, and how to handle the spiritual dimensions of practice. The title is earned through years of study and recognition by other kumu, not by commercial certification.

The hula dancer wearing pāʻū made from bark she beat herself, carrying a gourd rattle she learned to craft over months, moving to a chant her kumu learned from her great-grandmother — that is not a performer preserving a tradition. That is a tradition continuing to produce its own practitioners. The dance survives not because it has been packaged for audiences, but because inside hālau across the islands, students still ask permission before entering the school grounds. Fire knife dancing tells a different story — faster, more aggressive, built for spectacle — but hula tells the one that came first.

Sources and further reading

Hawaiian language and hula revitalization. American Indian Magazine, 2024.

Hula: Hawaii’s storytelling in motion. History.com, 2023.