The ‘Lilo & Stitch’ children’s choir reflects on 20-year ride
Longtime choir director Lynell Bright’s classroom is a shrine to Stitch, the fluffy, feisty pet alien from Disney’s ‘Lilo & Stitch.’ The deceptively adorable face of the mischievous extraterrestrial is ‘everywhere,’ she says. And when students discover her affinity, they buy her stuffed-animal Stitches and draw her pictures of the beloved cartoon character to put on display with the rest of her collection.
The steering wheel and seats of Bright’s car — known as the ‘Stitch mobile’ — are also covered in images of the fan-favorite fur ball. To some, the 57-year-old music teacher’s obsession might seem peculiar. Even incoming members of the Kamehameha Schools Children’s Chorus can’t help but remark, ‘Mrs. Bright, you really like Stitch ...’ upon entering her choir room for the first time.
But Bright and Stitch go way back — even further than the little blue monster’s cinematic debut. More than two decades ago, she received a call from Disney inviting the chorus to record music for the soundtrack of an animated project then in the works.
That project was ‘Lilo & Stitch,’ a quirky and emotional family film about orphaned Hawaiian sisters whose newly adopted ‘puppy’ turns out to be an escaped lab experiment from outer space. The 2002 movie features a pair of standout tracks — ‘He Mele No Lilo’ and ‘Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride’ — sung in Hawaiian and English by Mark Kealiʻi Hoʻomalu and members of the Kamehameha chorus. Their angelic voices add an extra layer of beauty and cultural authenticity to the story of two outcast souls that form an unlikely friendship on the island of Kauai.
‘The kids have no idea the effect that they have on the audiences,’ Bright said in a recent video interview.
‘Sometimes we have performances, and I see people touched and moved. And the kids, they’re like, ‘OK, where is our lunch?’ That’s important to them . ... But I always say, ‘Twenty years from now, they’re gonna see what an impact their singing had on people.”
It’s been 20 years since ‘Lilo & Stitch’ opened in theaters, and the former members of the chorus — who were not much older than Lilo when the movie was made — have indeed come to understand the collective power of their performance.
‘Especially watching it now as an adult, you see the impact that it has,’ said Kamehameha alum Paul Iona, a 32-year-old augmentedreality graphics producer who splits his time between Honolulu and L.A.
‘It’s one of those films that you can gather so much at different times of your life . ... It’s welcoming you into Hawaii as we would hope that people feel welcomed when they come to Hawaii. And I hope moviegoers were able to feel that, seeing that scene and then hearing our voices.’
Despite how young they were at the time, Iona and other former members of the chorus have retained vivid memories of working on the film. Getting selected to join the choir was already a big deal — but getting to sing original songs for a Disney movie was nothing short of ‘surreal,’ said Leimomi Kanagusuku, a 31-year old family medicine doctor on Oahu.
The chorus is made up of 100 students ages 9 to 12, but for recording purposes, the studio had to cut that number down to 40. Auditions were held, and the most expressive singers who effectively communicated the lyrics were chosen for the gig, Bright said.
‘That’s the hardest thing,’ she added. ‘I hate auditions, because they’re all great kids, and they’re all good.’
Initially, the students were told only that they had been recruited to sing for a movie about ‘a girl and her dog.’ They clung to the crumb of information about the mysterious project, fervently speculating as to what the names of the protagonist and her pup might be.
‘When finally we found out the title, it was just such an odd name for a dog,’ Iona said. ‘I couldn’t fathom what it could possibly be at the time . ... It was such a funny progression of finding out more about the film and the story behind it.’
As Disney fed them additional details, the lucky group of fourth-, fifth- and sixth-graders were sworn to ‘secrecy,’ said Rachel Justice, a 33-year-old elementary school teacher at Kamehameha on Oahu. The sheet music for the first number they learned, ‘He Mele No Lilo,’ was sealed in cryptic manila envelopes, and the kids weren’t allowed to talk with anyone about what was inside.