The Closing of the Kahiki - 2000 article

The recent talk and threads about the revival of Columbus Ohio's Kahiki Restaurant fireplace and giant Moai heads http://www.tikicentral.com/viewtopic.php?topic=21188&forum=5&hilite=Kahiki
inspired me to reach into my own archives, and locate an article I wrote on attending the Kahiki closing party. This article appeared in the Winter 2000 (#13) issue of the L.A. based Scram magazine. I wanted to make this article available on-line once again, and Tiki Central seemed to be the best place to do this.

The article does have a somewhat bittersweet ending. Back in 2000, there was still strong hope that the Kahiki would somehow be resurrected, and a new tiki oasis would open in Columbus. Although those plans fell through, I am still amazed as to how much the tiki community has grown since the summer of 2000. Between the Hukilaus, Tiki Oasis, and other events, the many books and tiki mugs and other art, and the many people who have contributed to the tiki subculture, we have all done our small bit to keep the tiki torch flames lit.

(note: photos are from 1998 and 2000)

Vern

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‘The Closing of the Kahiki’ by Vern Stoltz

"Sad soul, take comfort, nor forget that sunrise never failed us yet" - Celia Layton Thaxter

Many, many years ago – well, actually more like 40 years ago, America experienced a golden era where there was a fondness for all things tiki. Musicians like Martin Denny reached the tops of the charts with bird-call enhanced songs such as '‘Quiet Village'’ and restaurants with elaborate Polynesian decors were built all over the country. Unfortunately golden moments do not last forever – what was once strange, fun and exotic becomes accepted and taken for granted, and after a few years the public’s desire for something new and striking led them elsewhere. The music on the radio was the first thing to change, and then if one watched very carefully through the years, they would notice as the Polynesian restaurants lost their glamour and simply vanished away, one by one.

The Kahiki restaurant was one of the grandest of the exotic Polynesian restaurants. It wasn’t located in the warm climates of California or Florida, but far from the oceans in the city of Columbus, Ohio, where it thrived by providing a warm tropical setting for those cold-nosed Northerners unable to afford to travel south every winter. Just as the frozen tundra of Siberia provided a suitable preserving habitat for a long-dead woolly mammoth, the climate and people of Columbus provided a suitable habitat to keep the Kahiki operating since it was built in 1961. While other grand Polynesian restaurants slowly faded away, the Kahiki remained, where it was acclaimed in Sven Kirsten’s recent and fantastic ‘The Book of Tiki’ as one of the top two remaining Tiki Temples in the country.

But sometimes even being one of the top two is not enough to keep something alive. Even the grand and powerful woolly mammoth eventually succumbed to its changing environment, and the same fate was soon to reach the Kahiki. It wasn’t the cold weather that finished the Kahiki, instead it was a combination of more modern ills, including a deteriorating neighborhood, a difficult to maintain infrastructure, and a generous financial offer from a national drugstore chain with deep pockets who desired the underlying real estate. The Kahiki was sold this past summer, and will soon be demolished.

On August 26, 2000, a final private party was held at the Kahiki. Word had spread around the world that this historic landmark building would soon be gone, and many wanted to take the trip – damn the airfare cost – to see the building one last time in its full glory. I was one of the people who made this trip. It would be only my second trip to see the Kahiki, the first being two years previously when I saw a special performance by the band Combustible Edison. My memories of that first evening consisted of being astounded by the amazing architecture of the Kahiki, enjoying the friendly and creative ambiance that results when dozens of tiki fans meet in full regalia, and drinking perhaps a few too many mai-tais.

Two years later I was approaching the Kahiki for the second time. There it was, the Kahiki with its distinctive steep A-framed roof and its main entrance guarded by two gigantic Moai head carvings with flames flickering above.

I got in line with the other guests, and noticed the various film crews outside, already documenting the evening. I also noticed the next two people coming to join the line behind me. Wearing a brightly colored tiki shirt and dress, my impressions were that they might also be tiki fans who had traveled great distances to be here. I was a bit surprised to instead discover that they were local Ohioans, and that he was a salesman for the Kahiki brand of frozen foods. With the enthusiastic outgoing demeanor often associated with salesmen, he told me of the growing interest in the Kahiki food brand, and how they had just expanded their distribution to include the Sam’s Club food stores affiliated with the huge Wal-Mart chain.

Soon we were at the front of the line, where we received our floral leis and entered the Kahiki. At certain moments in one’s life, one enters an environment so rich in sensory pleasures, that one just simply wants to absorb everything that is happening and slowly distribute those moments of happiness throughout the rest of their life. This Kahiki event was one of those nights. It will be remembered by me as one of the best events I’ve ever attended in my life, and one struggles to capture the ambiance of the evening in words.

The Kahiki gift shop had been pretty well picked clean by previous restaurant guests, but I was more than happy to purchase a few special items. Available for that night only were actual food and drink menus from the Kahiki, along with some special commemorative limited print posters made especially for the event. The bar was in full tiki splendor, the mai-tais being just as delicious as I remembered from before. One of the more popular drinks that evening was the ‘Smoking Eruption.’ A festive rum drink, it is served in a large goblet that has a middle cylinder filled with dry ice, allowing a cloud of fog to pour forth from your drink, bringing up visions of both a volcano and a witch brewing up some wicked potion.

In the basement level was another bar, some DJs playing the finest exotic music, and a grand buffet spread full of gourmet Polynesian food that was so appealing and delicious, I felt as if I was on a four-star cruise ship on a voyage to Fantasy Island.

Upstairs in the main room, right in front of the giant red-eyed tiki fireplace, Hawaii’s ‘Don Tiki’ were about to start their performance. This band has done a fantastic job at replicating the sounds of the original exotica era, and they were the perfect choice to provide the evening’s music. The crowd of tiki fans and exotica aficionados were soon gathered in front – but before the music started playing, their attention was diverted 180 degrees to a large screen mounted high on the other wall. There, making a taped appearance was Martin Denny himself, giving a thank you and appreciation to the Kahiki for keeping the spirit of exotica alive for all those years. As his brief message ended, he turned around to his piano, and started playing the first notes of his hit song ‘Quiet Village.’ A few notes later, the musicians of Don Tiki joined in, and this symbolic musical torch had passed for the evening.

The rest of the evening was spent catching up with various friends and simply wandering around the Kahiki, soaking in as much atmosphere as I could. One white haired gentleman, walking with a cane, became somewhat of a minor celebrity that night.

Rumor was that he was the original architect of the Kahiki, or perhaps only the cousin of the architect. It didn’t really seem to matter – he represented a direct link to the original vision that created and built the Kahiki, and people were happy to have his presence there on this final evening. Also helping to bring some of that old-time exotica aura were some of the original bartenders from long ago. Suitably, they stood near the bar all evening, sharing old bartending war stories with each other and others who were nearby.

I noticed that the majority of the tiki/exotica fans had planted themselves in front of Don Tiki. They became entranced by the music and felt their bodies succumb to exotic movements when the more energetic rhythms started playing. I noticed that the local Ohioans, perhaps a bit bewildered by the wild outfits and tattoos displayed by many in the tiki/exotica crowd, seemed to prefer the tables off to the side. These were the tables near the wall of tropical fish aquariums, or on the other side of the Kahiki, by the tropical forest, which even on this last evening was still receiving its nourishing thunderstorm every half hour. Several of the couples at this table were near retirement age, and I thought how to these persons, the main purpose of the night was not to attend some big party attended by a hip crowd. Instead it was to share one last final evening in a very special location with a loved one - perhaps to call an end to a customary weekend meal in a pattern that had been started long ago, or perhaps to remember that one winter evening forty years ago when he proposed to her. I walked by these people, letting them have their own private moments as they shared their final drinks together. Occasionally their moments of privacy would be interrupted by a bright light from a film crew’s camera, which happened to be capturing footage of a waitress as she delivered a tray of Smoking Eruptions to some distant table. At one point a local was rumored to be heard as saying loudly “Oh my God, they’re even filming in the restrooms” when the cameras ventured into even those rooms to gather images of the tiki-headed water faucets.

Back in the basement level, the main buffet had been cleared away and replaced with a rich display of desserts. As I finished loading up my plate, I noticed that the man serving me the piece of Hawaiian toast was no other than Michael Tsao, the owner of the Kahiki. Rather than be satisfied with sitting with the main crowd above and have some newer employee handle the serving of the desserts, Mr. Tsao wanted to keep busy and feel part of the activities in the way that he knew how – by providing delicious food to people. Somehow it was so appropriate – his stewardship of the restaurant had provided pleasure to so many people over the years and in much the same way, he was now placing one final dessert onto my plate.

Back upstairs again late in the evening, I ordered another mai-tai – only to hear that they had run out of mai-tai ingredients. Looking behind the bar I noticed that the shelves which two years previous had been full of various tiki mugs....

.....were now empty.

That’s when it really sunk in for me that the Kahiki was closing. One takes it for granted when in a richly decorated Polynesian bar that mai-tais will be flowing forever – so it was a shock to discover otherwise. I found myself thinking of the Don Mclean song that goes ‘drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry’, but substituting instead the words ‘but the mai-tais went dry’

Fortunately, and contrary to the best exotica lover’s wishes, the world does not revolve around mai-tai, and I was able to order a Fog Cutter drink in its place. I continued my walking, and heard someone call out my name – it was the salesman that I had earlier met in line. He introduced me to some other members of the Kahiki salesforce. As I noticed how they all shared the same firm handshake, I was briefly peppered once again with more talk of grocery chains in my home area. They seemed very happy, perhaps being able for at least one night to associate the name Kahiki with a festive occasion and a hip crowd rather than a series of business meetings with grocery store chain managers.

The festivities were still happening, as evidenced by those still dancing to Don Tiki, but sadness was rising as the evening’s minutes ticked away. One college-aged waitress said ‘What am I going to do? This was the greatest job in the world. I might wake up and be in a grumpy mood all day, and then I would come here to work, and by the time I was finished, I would be all happy again. You can’t help to be cheered up by this place. Where else can I work and be able to feel the same thing?”

And then eventually Don Tiki stopped playing, and the giant red-eyed Kahiki fireplace seemed a bit sadder as the crowd slowly begin to leave the Kahiki, one by one.

The Kahiki was a great place, fully deserving to be celebrated with one final fantastic farewell party. It’s easy to become saddened when thinking that the Kahiki will no longer be there. The video of Martin Denny helped set a great tone for the evening, but for me there was another celebrity presence in the Kahiki who many people may not have noticed.

In 1959 - the same year that Martin Denny hit the top of the charts with ‘Quiet Village’ – the film ‘Black Orpheus’ won the academy award for best foreign picture. This film, based on the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, was set in Rio de Janeiro during the festive Carnival season and is recognized as a film classic. The success of ‘Black Orpheus’ jump-started a world-wide love for Samba, Bossa Nova and other exotic Brazilian music.

The movie Black Orpheus stays true to the original myth. At the end of the film, one of the children present is greatly saddened by the death of Orpheus – he thought that the guitar music of Orpheus was so wonderful that it just had to be the main reason why the sun chose to rise every morning. Now that Orpheus was dead, the child worried that the sun would no longer have a reason to rise. His friend persuades the child to start strumming Orpheus’s guitar, and as the child does so, the sun begins to rise. Even though Orpheus is still dead, his powers have been passed on to a new generation, and the music continues to live forever.

You might ask what does Black Orpheus have to do with the closing of the Kahiki restaurant? Well, a man by the name of Carlinhos de Oliveira, as a young actor, played the role of the child who strums the guitar that makes the sun rise at the end of Black Orpheus. Carlinhos, also known in Brazil as the ‘golden tambourine’ just happens to be a percussionist for the band Don Tiki. For much of the evening of August 26, Carlinhos was present, sitting as close to the giant Kahiki fireplace as one could get, and still playing his magical music for the Kahiki crowd.

The same person who 41 years ago was responsible for the sun rising at the end of Black Orpheus was one of those creating music and keeping the Orpheus myth alive during the final night of the Kahiki. Carlinhos was the perfect guest to remind us that life still goes on after a loved one dies. The Kahiki may no longer be with us, but the sun still continues to rise, and there will still be many more things in our lives to celebrate.

There will be those of us who help keep the Kahiki spirit alive. It’s alive in writers like Sven Kirsten, author of ‘The Book of Tiki”, and Otto von Streiham, current editor of the Tiki News zine who planned much of the activities for the final Kahiki event. The Kahiki spirit is in the musicians from Combustible Edison and Don Tiki and all other bands who help keep the exotic sounds alive, and it’s there also in the fans of exotica music and tiki-heads all over the world who savor and buy this music.

The Kahiki spirit is alive in Michael Tsao, who is currently planning to rebuild another Kahiki restaurant in Columbus, and it is in all the local Ohioans who regularly had their meals at the Kahiki and kept the restaurant operating for 40 years. It’s even in the salesmen who spread the word about the successful Kahiki product line; which will help Michael Tsao to keep many of his employees employed and together until the new restaurant is finally built. Who knows, the spirit of the Kahiki may even be present in those unsuspecting shoppers at some distant out of the way grocery who decides to buy a Kahiki brand frozen food product, even though they have no idea that a grand restaurant once existed in the middle of Ohio.

Mahalo, Vern, that was a fantastic article! You really gave a good visual of that night. So sorry to see another spot so important to so many gone forever. It is nice to know that there are remnants floating out there to end up in the hands of those who hold the Kahiki in their hearts.

Vern...
Wow!
That was a phenomenal posting - thanks for making it. Having spent 11 years living in Pittsburgh (roughly 2 hours from Columbus) there's a poswerful fascination for this place I never got to visit. Have collected a few postcards, a barrel mug, etc. Even at the Hukilau met the new curators of some of the moai head decor, and now with this post I can imagine what it must've been like to be there. Well-written, descriptive, reverential...

Man, that's good stuff. I'm thirsty!!!!
~Rupe

[ Edited by: rupe33 2006-10-27 10:50 ]

Great read! It saddens me that even if I do make it over to the US one day, there's a whole slew of places like this I'll never be able to experience. Let's hope the Mai Kai is around for many more years to come.

Vern.......beautifully written and raising the bar me as I try and reflect that same awe in the Kahiki book project....I know that most of the "soul" of the Kahiki is in just such personal reverie.I have been consistently amazed how much joy each personal reflection evokes..... a dreamy smile (often laced with sadness) ........... it WAS partly the fantastic drinks! (but soooooo much more).....thanks ,it's a real pleasure having met you .....and I'll do what I can to keep the Kahiki torch burning .....

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massage,humility,humor,storage space,cotton sheets and the ability to tread water.....yeah ,that'll do..... for now .......

[ Edited by: Hula Cat 2006-10-27 13:10 ]

[ Edited by: Hula Cat 2009-08-18 09:59 ]

That was a great read. I wasn't there, and now I definitely wish I was, but our Space Kadet (Abe Lagrimas) was on his first Mainland tour with Don Tiki then. I remember when he got back from that trip and was talking about it, at the time, I didn't understand/know/care what had went on. We just thought it was pretty damn cool that he was touring as a drummer/vibist at 16. If only he/we knew then what we know now... Not to mention, all you TC'ers who saw him playing back then, a good few years before we even started thinking about playing the music of exotica. Thanks for sharing that.

Thanks to everyone for their kind words. It is not often when one gets to pull out something written six years ago, and learn it can still touch people in the right way.

I was only able to visit the Kahiki twice, but those were two wonderful moments, and I am glad I was able to capture some of that magic in words. I envy those who lived closer, who were able to visit the Kahiki on a regular basis -- those were the ones who truly helped to keep the Kahiki alive for so many years. I look forward to Hula Cat and Melissa's book, so I can read and learn more stories about those people, and others affiliated with the Kahiki.

Thanks,
Vern

Thank you Vern for that great article. That's a great thing to have it re-put on a thread.
Great pics too.