A hypnotic blend of instrumentation and language from both Celtic and Māori traditions, Muriwai is a captivating and immersive listening experience throughout. A collaborative project between Ariana Tikao and Bob Bickerton, the word ‘muriwai’ refers to the confluence of two rivers; here represented by the meeting of two cultures. Tikao’s vocals are an instant standout: equal parts soulful and stirring (‘Huriawa’, ‘Whakamihia’), as the music navigates a Kāi Tahu creation story before moving into the present; journeying themes of environmentalism and the consequences of humans’ impact on our climate and natural surroundings. It is hard not to be completely taken by the music of Muriwai. It is haunting and ethereal (‘Ngahere’, ‘Auroko’), while being delivered with a dual sense of poignancy and urgency woven throughout. Elegiac production meets taonga puoro (traditional Māori musical instruments) and harp, elevating the otherworldly nature of the music in striking fashion.

Sosefina Fuamoli

Muriwai is the latest undertaking by Bob Bickerton and Ariana Tikao, a new and greatly anticipated collaboration in Aotearoa’s world of traditional music. Bob is a highly influential sound engineer, performer, educator, a Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to music, and composer who has worked in the New Zealand music industry for almost 50 years. Ariana is an acclaimed writer, musician and singer who often incorporates the use of taonga puoro, Maori musical instruments, in her performances and recordings, and bases her compositions on experiences as a wahine of Kai Tahu descent.

Full disclosure, my Te Reo Maori vocabulary is so-so, and I have yet to spend more time with the language. Thus, in writing this, I’ve had to look up certain words in dictionaries (online and book-form!) so I apologise in advance for any errors or inaccuracies.

The way I understood it, the Te Reo word ‘Muriwai’ means the end, or the meeting, of rivers. This makes the title of the album particularly fitting, not solely because of the record’s theme of water, but as a literal confluence of Ariana and Bob’s experiences, abilities and mahi, culminating in this very listening experience.

This journey starts with Wai, suitably, the Te Reo word for water. Soothing sounds of a flowing stream are set beneath a verbal introduction, first in English and then in Te Reo, describing the ancient water-filled world at the beginning of time according to Kai Tahu legends.

And in continuation of this introduction, Whakamihia greets listeners with wondrous harp notes, shimmering vocal harmonies and bright sounds of a traditional flute.

With both Bob and Ariana being professional taonga puoro performers, I have no doubt both had turns at all the various instruments across the eleven tracks. And there are plenty of native Aotearoa instruments on this record.

Putatara conch horns can be heard on Terea Te Waka as well as on Te Ao Patupaiarehe, and there are various flute-like parts – the individual names of which I’m not yet familiar with – employed on every other composition.

There are brilliant uses of a purerehua, the whirled instrument, like on Auroko, where the low hums punctuate the heartfelt yet beautiful verses.

Where featured, Bob’s harp strings accentuate each piece, providing both tone and atmosphere, as heard on Te Ao Takata and Auroko.

But what makes certain waiata feel most emotive is Ariana’s vocal work. At many moments on the record it’s the sustained, bittersweet notes sung that carry the heft of the composition. The expansive quality of Ariana’s voice on Te Ao Takata feels like it could be heard from one end of the motu to the other.

The standout tracks, to my ears, are ones that portray an environment by way of sound effects and audio recordings of the natural world. Ngahere is one particular waiata that feels particularly transcendental because of this. Appropriately, the Te Reo word for bush or forest is indeed ‘ngahere’, and your mind is transported into the densest native bush. With a log-fire lit, as rain falls all around, you’re serenaded with birdcall, and Ariana’s expressive, far-reaching notes echo like you’re sheltering in a deep valley.

Pupuhi Rau takes a somewhat similar approach, except in place of birdsong and rainfall, there are deep rumbles, and distant, gently percussive sounds of stalactites dripping. Seeming to reproduce a subterranean setting, Ariana’s long, soulful notes make you feel as if you’re being sung a lullaby inside a cavern. I hadn’t heard anything so mentally visual for a long, long time and it’s absolutely magical.

There is another quality to this record that I personally have not encountered often, if at all. It’s the meditative and entranced state of mind one gets from hearing the entire album from start to finish, then listening all over again, like a story that never ends. This could make for the perfect accompaniment to sit and meditate to, or even do yoga to (Not that I’ve ever attempted yoga).

Both humbling and introspective, Muriwai is a subdued form of celebration. It acknowledges and celebrates the revival of Te Reo Maori, the revival of taonga puoro, and applies a twist of Kai Tahu lore.

This is nothing short of a fascinating listen, and I believe this to be a brilliant highlight in the cosmos of Aotearoa music.

Steve Shyu