bReview: Marlon Williams - Te Whare Tīwekaweka Tour
at Spark Arena, Saturday 21 June 2025
Written by Nicholas Lindstrom
Photography by Nico Penny
I feel a particular kind of sympathy for musicians who play arena shows. I know what you are thinking, but give me a chance to explain. Arenas pose the unique challenge of being purpose-built, blank canvases upon which an artist is tasked with articulating the creative contents of their music. They are devoid of the beautiful cultural intricacies and atmosphere (tagged bathrooms and faint cigarette smell) that independent venues lend to whoever happens to be playing that night. At an arena, creating an atmosphere conducive to artistic expression is a burden that rests entirely on the shoulders of a musician and their production team. When Marlon Williams announced his Spark Arena show, I felt a sympathetic trepidation. How would he translate the rich emotional hues of his album Te Whare Tīwekaweka onto the 94 million dollar blank canvas of Spark Arena?
At the very least, the timing was impeccable. A fully reo Māori album performed under the auspices of Matariki. The new year offers not only a chance for growth but also an opportunity for reflection. I felt this acutely when I descended into the seated areas of Spark. The delightfully anachronistic school assembly-esque rows of chairs were accompanied by a slight haze, suspended in the air by the warm, but not obnoxious, arena lighting. The light-stained wooden platforms on the stage evoked the nostalgic familiarity of the local school or church hall. The only thing missing was a couple trays of Arcoroc mugs and the aunties whose clandestine smoking caused the haze. Reo māori was everywhere, from the conversations of people sitting in front of me to the waiata that played softly throughout the arena. Even in line for the bathroom Maisey Rika’s ‘Tangaroa Whakamautai’ lulled gently out of the bathroom speakers.
Local Kapa Haka rōpū Tītahi ki Tua made good on the promise of the stage-design, with a timeless set of Pōwhiri standards; the call of the Pūtātara, the somatically stirring Karanga, a full force ‘Tōia Mai’ and a gorgeous rendition of ‘Purea Nei’.
(Tītahi ki Tua at Spark Arena / Photo: Nico Penny)
The friendship between Marlon Williams and Lyttleton-based Witch-hop practitioner and lecturer in indigenous studies KOMMI was integral to the creation of ‘Te Whare Tīwekaweka’. KOMMI was the reo Māori guide whom Williams relied on for songwriting help, even lending Marlon some lyrics for a few songs on the album, including the bewitching track ‘Pānaki’. Check out this excellent episode of the ‘In The Pits’ podcast for an in-depth glimpse of their working relationship. It was only Tika that KOMMI opened the night's proceedings, creeping onto the stage in what can only be described as an overwhelmingly ‘skux’ outfit, completed by a wide-brimmed hat adorned with feathers. They were joined on stage by vocalist and fellow skux Tay Renee. Drummer Cam Finlay, Bassist Chris Wethey and Guitarist Jules Blewman, assisted in bringing to life the gloriously funky sonic weirdness of KOMMI’s 2024 EP 'TAUWHENUA', made in collaboration with producer Infectiouss. As KOMMI confessed, their brand of spooky Hip-Hop might not have been what the crowd of die-hard Marlon Williams fans “paid for,” but my god was it captivating. It was a joy to watch the older-leaning crowd go from confused to completely won over by their energy and hilarious anecdotes. As a die-hard fan of hip hop, I was entranced by the pairing of KOMMI’s rapid reo bars and Tay Renee’s gorgeously silky vocals. Marlon Williams even made a brief cameo for ‘Tāiro’, a track that won Te Tohu Puoro o te Reo Māori - Favourite Song featuring Te Reo Māori at the Mighty Aotearoa Alternative Awards 2024. Dressed in the most conspicuous-looking tracksuit and beanie, Williams and KOMMI went bar for bar, dancing around and having so much fun. Just like they did in the creation of Te Whare Tīwekaweka, KOMMI oriented the proverbial waka in the right direction; it was now Marlon Williams’ turn to guide the journey.
(KOMMI at Spark Arena / Photo: Nico Penny)
(KOMMI at Spark Arena / Photo: Nico Penny)
A singular blue light illuminated Marlon Williams’ slender frame. The tracksuit had been abandoned in favour of a tailored suit. The rich Kai Tahu pounamu green of the suit glowed as he delivered the opening mōteatea, assuming the posture and gesticulations of a kaikōrero. The silence that occupied the arena was more than reverence; it was captivation. All eyes were fixed on Williams as he flowed from the album's opening mōteatea ‘E Mawehe Ana Au’ into ‘He Wawata’ and then straight back into the album with the delicate ‘Ko tēnā ua’.
(Marlon Williams at Spark Arena / Photo: Nico Penny)
The music video for ‘My Boy’ is usually the first stop when introducing friends to Marlon Williams’ music. It’s not just the sonic elements; the video perfectly illustrates the inviting charm that draws people to him; it’s the validating feeling of having an inside joke with someone. The same effect took over the crowd with the opening bars of ‘My Boy’ and continued into groove-inducing ‘Me Uaua Kē’. His gregarious stage presence was rewarded with crowd interactions ranging from jokes about cats to a barrage of sound when we were prompted to offer requests. He eventually settled on ‘Arahura’, a song off his 2020 collaborative album Plastic Bouquet, inducing the crowd into the time-honoured arena tradition of raising their phone torches, creating a sea of gorgeous electronic whetū. My favourite moment came when someone yelled, "Nō hea koe?” (Where are you from?) Without missing a beat, Williams responded, “Ngāi Tai ki Tōrere, Kāi Tahu, and now at the piano”.
Amongst the jokes, there were moments of sincere tenderness. Te Whare Tīwekaweka was dedicated to the luminary songwriter Hirini Melbourne, who Williams described as “the best songwriter this country has produced.” In the spirit of remembrance that Matariki prompts, Williams played ‘Rongomai’, Melbourne’s devastatingly pretty ode to Halley's Comet. William’s also paid tribute to his late grandmother Rīpeka with the waiata ‘Kāhore He Manu E’. When we spoke prior to the album’s release, I asked Marlon what his Nan would think about his recent mahi. At the time, he joked that she would tell him to “have a feed”. If I may be so bold, I think there would also be an immense sense of pride.
(Marlon Williams at Spark Arena / Photo: Nico Penny)
In an Instagram post before the album release, Williams thanked his band The Yarra Benders (Ben Woolley, Gus Agars and Dave Khan), writing that he was “deeply indebted to them for their bravery and level of engagement with the kaupapa.” Just as they were an integral part of the album recording, they were also central in the live show. Dave Khan played just about everything on stage. At one point, he had an electric guitar hanging from his neck while simultaneously playing the synthesiser. Transitioning from shredding guitar at the end of ‘Aua Atu Rā’ to playing gorgeous violin to intro ‘Kuru Pounamu’. Gus Agar was the ever-reliable presence on drums, his humorous explanation of an earlier cat joke kept the audience engaged while Marlon searched for the right guitar lead. Returning after ‘Te Hokinga Mai’ adorned in korowai, the band assumed positions mirroring the video for ‘Whakameatia Mai’. Ben Wooley’s upright bass playing an impeccable reo Māori verse received the loudest cheer. Māori-led, Pākehā supported.
Te Whare Tīwekaweka is an album steeped in the traditions of Kapa haka. Williams enlisted the help of Melbourne-based rōpū Ngā Mātai Pūrua to translate the joyous elements of kapa haka from the recorded versions into the live performance space. Dressed in their finest Kākahu, they provided grounding background vocals on ‘Huri te Whenua’, ‘Rere Mai Ngā Rau’ and ‘Pōkaia Rā te Marama’. Assisted by the re-emergence of KOMMI, whose ‘Koia nā’ adlibs in ‘Rere Mai Ngā Rau’ were bolstered by the choir of fans.
Diversity of genre is one of the strengths of Te Whare Tīwekaweka. This was represented in the physical stage space, with Marlon moving between a piano elevated on a stage for tender songs like ‘Ngā Ara Aroha’ and back to the main stage space for more anthemic tracks like ‘Kei Te Mārama’. Equally as infectious as it is undeniable. The records undeniability and infectiousness is intensified in the live performance, allowing it to act as a bridge that spans the sectarian divides in Aotearoa. Even your uncle who has a penchant for asking people “where they are really from?” would be drawn into Anton Ego levels of nostalgia for his youth as a John Wayne fan by the more Bluegrass leaning tracks like ‘Whakameatia Mai’.
Speaking on bringing Melbourne-based rōpū Ngā Mātai Pūrua back to Aotearoa, Marlon said it is important to “bring abstract and dispersed things that belong in the world back into it” There is no better description for the power of this record and its accompanying live performance. At a time when the Prime Minister feels empowered to use histrionic terms like ‘maorification’, waiata Māori is more important than ever. Aotearoa cannot be “maorified”, because just like Marlon Williams has always been and will always be Māori. The energy of the neo-standard ‘Korero Māori’ is drawn from the lineage of songwriters like Ngoi Pēwhairangi, Dalvanius Prime and the aforementioned Hirini Melbourne You could see it written in Marlon Williams’ knowing grin as he sang the kupu “I haere Māori atu, i hoki Māori mai ē” (Māori you left, and Māori you will return) Closing the set with a whole arena singing along to the anthemic ‘Ngoi Ngoi’ proves why we should embrace reo Māori, because both Pākehā and Māori shared the elation. We have the potential to tap into and harness that special feeling of hearing the haka or waiata when we travel overseas, we simply have to embrace it all the time.
(Tītahi ki Tua at Spark Arena / Photo: Nico Penny)
Setlist
Opening Mōteatea (Rimu Rimu?)
E Mawehe Ana Au
He Wawata
Ko tēnā ua
Me Uaua Kē
My Boy
Aua Atu Rā
Kuru Pounamu
Ngā Ara Aroha
Kāhore He Manu E
Arahura
Rongomai
Pānaki
Huri te Whenua
Kei Te Mārama
Korero Māori
Rere Mai Ngā Rau
Pōkaia Rā te Marama
Te Hokinga Mai
Whakameatia Mai
Ngoi Ngoi
95bFM 
