Editorial: Sir Howard: A man of all his people

Opinion

When someone of Sir Howard Morrison's national stature is lost there is an urge to erect a monument. Fortunately - for we have not been good at monuments for a while - Sir Howard has left his own. One of the most moving experiences available to a New Zealander is to hear Maori voices take up the hymn "How Great Thou Art".

It was not the only song that he made his own in this country but it was one that Maori have made their own. Now more than ever, whenever it is performed, it will recall the familiar face with the twinkling eyes and sonorous tones that we have enjoyed for a lifetime.

Howard Morrison was a true pioneer of New Zealand popular music. The quartet he formed in 1957 with his brother Laurie, cousin John Morrison and friend Gerry Merito, played the rock 'n' roll of that era with a distinctive New Zealand flavour. Their derivation of a skiffle hit, My Old Man's an All Black, was a dig daring for its time against the exclusion of Maori from a South Africa tour in 1960.

In those years before television the group's concerts attracted big audiences wherever they went. By the time they disbanded in 1964 television had arrived and Sir Howard launched the solo career that kept him prominent in national life for more than 40 years.

His career has intersected with most of the names in local entertainment, as evident in the tributes paid to him yesterday by performers as diverse as Ray Columbus and Dame Kiri Te Kanawa. He was an inspiration to Dame Kiri.

Of his style, she said: "He was an absolute natural, engaging, elegant, funny." Of his presence: "His quick wit and exuberant manners would light up a room, or a stage."

Gray Bartlett, his musical director, had the good fortune to hear his signature performance of How Great Thou Art in front of the Queen. Said Bartlett yesterday, "The cascade of notes in the chorus was spine-tingling. Howard had a wonderful ability to connect with emotions and the audience ..."

He was the face and singing voice of New Zealand when required for events such as an Expo overseas or a Commonwealth Games at home. He took a keen interest in national life and was not afraid to offer forthright opinions on it. He could be blunt as well as charming. He had ambitions to serve his people in a more serious role but would not be constrained by the rules of officialdom. A post in the Maori Affairs Department did not last long and he looked back on it as one of few frustrations in a successful life.

A light has gone from our small constellation of real charisma and talent. Whether performing or not, he was its central star, a gravitational presence in the nation's cultural life. He lived in Rotorua, a place which has a powerful gravity of its own in the security and confidence of its Maori character.

He was a man of all his people, his family, his iwi Te Arawa, his town, country, music, his profession. It is at the death of such a figure that we fully realise the presence he had and the gap he leaves. His memory should continue to inspire young performers and hold a valued place in the nation's heart.