Te reo comes to prime time

By DIANA McCURDY and RENEE KIRIONA

When the first strains of the karakia cut through the autumn dawn tomorrow, Maori Television's acting executive manager, Ani Waaka, will breathe a sigh of relief. She can't begin to describe the hours she's been working since the channel announced its launch date last month.

"Let me put it this way: the nights have got shorter and shorter. Somebody said to me the other day: only six more sleeps to go. And I said: actually there's only six more nights. That doesn't necessarily equate with sleep at the moment."

At 6am tomorrow, all that work will come to fruition. All going well, television viewers with access to the UHF frequency (within the coverage area), satellite or Sky will be able to view Maori Television until 10.30pm.

It's been a crazy few months. Even the weather has thrown up a few obstacles. Heavy rain damaged the main studio before its roof was finished. With builders repairing the damage, technicians had to delay vital equipment tests and staff training.

But Waaka doesn't begrudge the bags beneath her eyes. This launch is much more than the culmination of her staff's efforts since the Maori Television Service Act passed 10 months ago. It's the fulfilment of a dream for all those who have struggled for recognition of te reo in the past 30 years.

"This is the end result of all their efforts and struggle and protests and court action and all that's gone before to get us here ... So at one level it's the end of a road, and at another it's the beginning of a new road."

The fight for recognition of te reo has been fraught with obstacles since it was classified as a taonga by the Waitangi Tribunal in 1986.

Even after the Crown publicly accepted in 1991 that it had an obligation to use radio and television to preserve the Maori language, progress has been painstakingly slow as political reluctance and in-house problems have stymied attempts to get a television channel up and running.

Among the most notorious setbacks was the appointment of Canadian John Davy, who was hired as the first chief executive, only to be jailed after the Herald revealed he had falsified his CV. Chairman Derek Fox took over the role but left last year amid sexual harassment allegations.

Right now, however, Waaka has no time to dwell on the past. "Since I've been in this seat our focus has been on getting the channel to air ... We don't take any notice of what's swirling around in the media, because most of it is inaccurate. If we were to begin to give credence to it we'd never get anywhere."

The only real answer to the criticisms, she believes, is for Maori Television to get on air and show the critics what it's got.

Already, the channel has received "a couple of hundred" emails, phone calls and letters in response to its promotional tapes. The feedback has been uniformly positive.

One correspondent wrote soon after tuning in: "I am an old man, Pakeha, and your promo brought back fond memories of the wonderful Maori entertainers of past years ... You have all done a wonderful job. Go well, Maori TV. I will watch regularly."

Another: "Our hopes and dreams as well as all our support are with you all. Nga mihi aroha, nga mihi, tautoko ki a koutou katoa."

Auckland University emeritus professor Ranginui Walker is another viewer brimming with impatient excitement.

"So far, the three channels that have been in Pakeha hands have only reinforced part of our reality: the dominant Pakeha culture. For young Maori, it sends out a subtle message that being Maori does not rate."

Te Karere and Marae - two quality TVNZ programmes aimed at Maori - air at a time when few are watching, he says. Maori Television will bring Maori news to air during prime time.

It's not all intellectualism at Walker's house. He is equally thrilled at the prospect of seeing Billy T. James on the screen again.

Waaka finds such commendations warming. But she is all too aware that Maori Television needs to prove itself if it is to remain on air. With the Government as its sole funder, the channel receives $12.98 million a year to cover operating costs and expenditure and $14.5 million through Te Mangai Paho for programming.

The perennial problem with government funding is that it is subject to political whim - National's Maori affairs spokesman Gerry Brownlee has already expressed doubts that a National government would spend money to continue the service.

The best defence against such threats is to gain market share. But the channel has not yet set any ratings targets or defined how it will measure ratings.

"It's a bit of suck it and see, and then work out ways," says Waaka.

In the past few months, the management team's preoccupation has been fulfilling the performance targets the channel agreed to for the period to this June.

The targets are pretty much what you'd expect for a fledgling indigenous channel: building the studios; broadcasting an average of eight hours of programming a day; broadcasting predominantly in te reo Maori between 6pm and 8pm; and ensuring Maori can actually receive the channel on their television sets. The channel also has to commission a certain percentage of hours of television aimed at tamariki (children) and rangatahi (youth).

With the launch tomorrow, however, Waaka is conscious that management now needs to turn its attention to monitoring audience numbers and reaction. Initial talks have been held with Te Puni Kokiri, the Maori Language Commission and Te Mangai Paho to work out how to do this, but nothing concrete has been decided.

You'd think it would be pretty easy: go to ACNielsen and ask for the ratings. But for a small channel - and especially one with a specific target audience - it is not so easy.

ACNielsen draws its ratings from peoplemeters in 470 New Zealand homes. These households, says ACNielsen, have been selected to reflect a "mini New Zealand".

Unfortunately, when you start trying to track the viewing habits of, say, Maori youth, the sample size shrinks alarmingly.

Regional television is familiar with this problem, says CTV station manager Liz Whiteford. On a national level, Canterbury's regional channel shows up in the ratings at only about 2 per cent - within the margin of error. When CTV has tried to narrow ratings down by region, the sample size becomes too small. Whiteford knows from talking to CTV's regular advertisers that people have their televisions tuned to her station. The vital questions are: who and how many?

The youth market is the target audience for Maori Television. "We know from research that 50 per cent of the Maori population is under the age of 24, so our primary target age group will be under 24," says Waaka.

Both Maori and Pakeha? "Absolutely. Maori Television is for everyone."

The channel's line-up deliberately reflects this. Common genres - such as cooking shows - have been given a Kiwi twist. Viewers can watch a pig being killed and eaten in the bush or kina being gathered and cooked.

"We are conscious of the function of the channel in the normalising of te reo and tikanga," Waaka says. "It's building our programming in a way that is bilingual, that is fun ... We've tried to present our schedule in a way we know our people like, but that we think New Zealand as a whole will find it interesting and fun."

It is always surprising to discover which people enjoy which programmes, Waaka says. For example, an animated version of Watership Down, in which the rabbits speak te reo, has attracted a strong response.

Recently Waaka bumped into a kaumatua friend at Wellington Airport. "He said to me, 'I just love watching those rabbits korero Maori. That's my favourite and I just play it and play it'."

Media critics are withholding their judgment. Commentator Russell Brown says Maori Television's success is difficult to predict, but he sees it as a good sign that the channel has contracted advisers from other major networks. He is pleased that the line-up includes lively populist programming.

"I think it will be good to see Maori programming on in prime time and also being a bit less worthy and earnest ... In the end you are not going to be able to get away from ratings being important. It doesn't mean everything has to rate. If they have got one or two shows that break into popular consciousness, then they have done well."

Advertisers are already expressing interest in the new channel. In its initial stages, Maori Television will be under the spotlight from both critics and fans. For advertisers, that translates into dollar signs.

Even so, the reality is that Maori Television will rely on Government funding for some time yet, Waaka says. "But having said that, we do also have a responsibility to be a good commercial business operation. So we will be developing initiatives to do that."

Ultimately, measuring the success of Maori Television will involve more than totting up advertising dollars and market share. In Wales, for example, the British Government's introduction of a Welsh language channel in 1982 has been credited with helping to turn around a drastic decline in the language.

The channel accorded the language political status and increased the job prospects for those who were fluent in Welsh. Younger generations no longer felt learning the indigenous language was a waste of time.

Now, the proportion of Welsh residents claiming fluency has risen to more than 20 per cent.

In Canada, Aboriginal Peoples Television Network is planning its fifth birthday celebrations. The channel is accessible to nine million Canadian homes and broadcasts in English, French and Aboriginal languages.

Physically, Maori Television has modelled its Davis Cres, Newmarket, premises on its Canadian counterpart. They have been refurbished so the public can sit on the veranda and view the main studio through glass doors.

"The doors actually open so people can see and hear television being made," says Waaka. "And on Friday nights, right from the beginning of the schedule, we have a live interactive youth-skewed music show coming out of our studios with the doors wide open and teenagers being able to come in and out."

Even the newsroom - though not accessible to the public - can be viewed from the veranda. It is, as Waaka says, revolutionary in New Zealand broadcasting.

For Wira Gardiner, chairman of Te Mangai Paho, the launch will be particularly exciting. After two years, the programming his department has approved will finally come under public scrutiny.

It's all very well making hundreds of hours of television, he says, but until you actually get it to air, you really can't assess its success.

"Though the target audience is Maori, and to improve language and culture, to be realistic, the channel needs to reach beyond that if it is to be watched and be talked about."

The reality of life in New Zealand today is that Maori issues are in the spotlight for the wrong reasons. He hopes Maori Television will go some way to turning that around.

"That's another tribute to Wayne Walden and the board. You would have to be superhuman to overcome the setbacks, but they have done it."