A conversation with Ina Arii George (Rest In Peace)

Revisiting the 80s/90s at the Ōtara Music Arts Centre and the Proud compilation.

Selected Works is a regular newsletter by the Te Whanganui-a-Tara, Aotearoa (Wellington, New Zealand) based freelance music journalist, broadcaster, copywriter, and sometimes DJ Martyn Pepperell. Yes, that’s me. Most weeks, Selected Works consists of a recap of what I’ve been doing lately and some of what I’ve been listening to and reading, paired with film photographs I’ve taken + some bonuses. All of that said, sometimes it takes completely different forms.

In 2020, when I was deep in the reeds of working on the Aotearoa HipHop: The Music, The People, The History podcast with DJ Sirvere, I managed to snag a dodgy Zoom interview with a very good man named Ina Arii George. In the late eighties and early nineties, Ina worked in a variety of roles at the Ōtara Music Arts Centre (OMAC), a true South Auckland community hub and ground zero for several generations of New Zealand hip-hop, RnB and soul talent. In the era, Ina played a role in helping pull together and produce the classic Proud: An Urban-Pacific Street Soul Compilation album. If you look in the credits, you’ll see his name attached to the song ‘Groove Me’ by Rhythm Harmony.

Three days ago, I got word that Ina had passed away at home in Rarotonga in the Cook Islands. In times like this, I often find myself turning to John Koenig’s Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Inside its pages, I found a term that perfectly summed up how I was feeling.

dead reckoning

n. to find yourself bothered by someone’s death more than you would have expected, as if you assumed they would always be part of the landscape, like a lighthouse you could pass by for years until the night it suddenly goes dark, leaving you with one less landmark to navigate by—still able to find your bearings, but feeling all that much more adrift.

Although we only shared a single Zoom conversation and a few chats on Facebook Messenger, in those moments, I came to understand how Ina helped nurture the context that gave birth to several waves of talent we interviewed and documented for in the podcast. His contributions were humble and low-key, but they laid important foundations. To remember Ina, I decided that this week, I’d dig into the archives and transcribe our interview with him.

How early on did you become involved in OMAC? About four years before the current facility opened. We were just working out of the community hall at that time. Then I joined up with a fella named Sione Pasene. He was the facility manager. We took it through to the opening in July 1988. I left in 1995. I gave them twelve years, something like that. 

What was your job title? The final role I ended up with was Program Supervisor Technical. My job was basically to run the recording studio and develop and facilitate programs out of it along those paths. I was basically technical support. For instance, I was the one who would go out and hire audio systems and get it all set up.

So you left a year after the Proud compilation came out? It was probably one of the last things I was involved with there. I ended up in Canada by Christmas 1995.

What year do you reckon you started hearing hip-hop music at OMAC? Honestly, almost from the very beginning. Definitely around the end of the eighties, that’s for sure. They’re big into their music in South Auckland, and it’s always been Southside music in the sense that they follow rhythm and blues. There are a lot of blues down there and guys who like heavy metal because they’re into guitars. All of that music was out at the time, but I guess when I started hearing local hip-hop was in the late eighties. 

Who do you reckon were the first local hip-hop artists who came out to OMAC? We were a community facility, and our focus was music. In that sense, we were heavily involved with the schools. We used to put on a small concert at the end of the year, which we ended up calling The Big Kahuna Pool Party. So, being involved with the schools, especially Tangaroa College and Mangere College, Aorere College, and all of those southern secondary schools, was where I started seeing it coming from. The Sagala brothers [Sani and Johnny) had a group. I think they came to us through the church because the Polynesian churches are a big thing. They heard about it through the Tangaroa boys, George Fesolai and the group Di-Na-Ve. He was one of the best rappers I ever heard.

What were Johhny and Sani Sagala like at OMAC? They’d come along, and it would be very casual. We had small community programs where we could support the technical side of their recording, but we weren’t into the production side. In other words, putting them out there, getting them on a label. We didn’t have that kind of expertise until Tim Mahon [from Blam Blam Blam] came along. Tim was the catalyst for that cause he thought they should be out there. With his background, he had contacts in the music industry. We were coming from a community background, so we could draw the talent, say, “Man, these guys are good”, and help them with the music production, record demos for them, etc., but we weren’t very well versed in the business side of getting them out. 

I guess a big part of it at the time was just about keeping teenagers occupied? That’s exactly right. That’s what we were doing. They came in droves, really. For instance, I’d be locking up OMAC, and they’d still be sitting outside at 11 o’clock at night. I’d say, why? And they’d say, we want to make sure nobody breaks into the place. 

What sort of relationship did you have with the Fuemana family? Actually, I knew them through their sister Christina. We go back a long way. She was there before OMAC became the place it was. She was involved in the actual set-up of it at the time. From there, we were doing demos and stuff, just playing around in the recording studio with her and her husband at the time. Over a period of time, Phil [Fuemana] started to come down. I think [the actor and singer] Jay Laga'aia got involved through Phil. I guess that would have been during the early nineties. My memory is not the best.

How would you describe Phil Fuemana’s main role out at OMAC? He was more of a mentor. Phil and Tim were moving the guys who came through OMAC over to the Proud compilation. Phil had been around the music industry and was from O-town. He was a mentor and a facilitator. He’d let them know where they needed to step up or chill back. He was very much the guide. Growing up in Ōtara, it always felt like us against the world. We didn’t want to pass that mentality down to the kids. Everyone loves music, so we thought we’d try to pass that down and see where they go with it.

When do you think everything really started to come together there? By around 1991, 1992, things were percolating a little bit. After Tim [Mahon] started [working there], we were able to make connections with the music industry. At the time, Phil and Christina [Fuemana] were very involved with the church side of music. 

For my money, Christina must have one of the best modern soul voices to come out of Aotearoa. Her vocals on those Houseparty and Fuemana records are incredible. Yeah, she’s always sung like that. We thought, once we get the studio, we’ve got to put your down on tape. At the time, we were right into trying to build the place up, but at the end of the day, what we really needed was somewhere for it to go. That’s really where Tim [Mahon] came in. He was able to push it out there.

I think Sister Sina, who sang with OMC, was there as well? Sina Saipaia? Yeah, she was always around OMAC from day one. The reason I knew her was because I was friends with her older brother. She was the receptionist there for a while, working on the desk. She was even doing some tutoring looking after the holiday program. She’s one of the O.Gs. 

Do you remember Semi MCs coming down to OMAC? Yeah, they came down. It was a place for them to socialise, but they didn’t really take advantage of the facilities. We had practice rooms here. We’d set it up, and they’d come along and practice, do stuff, write songs. But they never really took advantage of the recording studio. I guess they had their own thing going on.

Do you remember when the idea of the Proud compilation came up? Do you remember Sisters Underground with Hassanah Iroegbu? 

Of course. It was right about that time. They came out of Hillary College. Hassanah just bowled in and said, “I want to do some stuff”, so we did some stuff. Just recording her and her friend Brenda. That’s when it all started to percolate. That was around when the whole Proud thing started. It was almost a confluence of events, if you know what I mean? OMAC played the role of common ground. If it hadn’t been there, these people might not have met. Do you remember the Benton brothers?

Karl and Hiran? They used to produce as the Digi Brothers, right? They brought some real music skills to that area. We had a melting pot of different music happening. This was from 1991 or 1992 until I left OMAC. I’d started to step back because I knew I was going to be leaving soon. They needed different skills for what was going to come next.

When you say it was a confluence of events, I agree. It’s almost like it was something that needed to happen and was always going to find a way. That’s pretty close. If you know people with different skills in a room, something will happen. It might be good or bad, but things always tend to happen. What we found was when it came together, it was awesome. Things were just - that was the norm for us at the time. Kids would wander in after school and ask what we were up to? I’d say, “Nothing. Why don’t you use one of the rooms?” They’d run up there, grab a guitar and that type of thing. Then we’d have The Big Kahuna concerts, and we’d get them to perform.

FIN.