Since the beginning of the reo Māori revitalisation movement, waiata Māori and their exposure to wider communities have been pivotal in normalising and celebrating the language. And a few steps ahead of us, Cymraeg, a Celtic language spoken primarily in Wales, has had a similar journey.
At the end of last month, Q Theatre hosted the Going Global music summit, where there was a particularly pertinent conversation about indigenous language as a cultural export. The conversation focused on Cymraeg and te reo Māori as examples of marginalised languages that are growing in strength in their national music industries. The panel, Waiata Reo ki Te Ao, Cerddoriaeth Gymreig i'r Byd: A Welsh and Māori Story of Cultural Export, was chaired by Sarah Owen (Rongowhakaata, Ngāti Porou) from the Māori Music Industry Collective. Andy Jones (FOCUS Wales) joined the panel alongside musicians Jordyn Rapana (Jordyn with a Why) and Mohi Allen (MOHI).
What was seen at this panel was the last chapter of a cultural exchange between Cymru and Aotearoa enabled by support from the British Council for New Zealand and the Pacific. It all started in 2024, when the British Council supported Māori Cymraeg SongHubs at Big Fan Studios, uniting Welsh and Māori songwriters and producers to create bilingual music, including tracks like Ca’ Dy Ben!. Then last year Rapana and Allen travelled to Wrexham to perform and represent Aotearoa at FOCUS Wales, the annual international music festival co-founded by Jones. The experience expanded the dreaming capacity for the future of te reo and showed ways the New Zealand music industry could be supported to enable these dreams.
Natasha Beckman, the New Zealand and Pacific director of British Council says Cymru and Aotearoa are global role models for language revitalisation. “Every time we bring Welsh and Māori musicians together, they weave another thread that revives indigenous language through the power of culture and music.”
While musicians in Aotearoa are generally fighting to have their music heard, reo Māori artists fight a second fight for the language. When Allen (Ngāpuhi, Te Rarawa, Ngāi Te Rangi, Ngāti Kahungunu ki Te Wairoa) first started releasing music, te reo Māori gave his music a point of difference. But the reason for writing and performing in te reo has expanded. “With the change in the world and the country and the way people perceive Māoritanga, it’s been even more of a wero [challenge] turning up and doing the thing.”
Rapana (Tainui Āwhiro, Ngāti Koata, Mulifanua Lalovi, Falelatai, Vaimoso) said it was inspiring to see and hear in Wales the future of language revitalisation that she envisages for Aotearoa. The journey of Cymraeg felt familiar and aspirational. “It was familiar in the sense that you hear the pride in cultural identity and language.”
Jones, who was raised with Welsh as his first language, said while Cymraeg and Māori are at different points on the timeline, they have had similar revitalisation journeys. People are still fighting for Cymraeg, and there’s been some great success stories in music, he said.
Jones gave Super Furry Animals, a Welsh rock band formed in 1993, as a powerful example. In 2000, the band released their fourth album, Mwng, fully in Cymraeg.
It reached number 11 on the UK Album Charts. He recalled the sense of pride he felt as a teenager, especially after attending one of their concerts. “All these Mank kids, you know, people from Manchester, canu yn y Gymraeg – singing in Welsh, singing their hearts out, and they didn't necessarily know the words, but that wasn't a barrier, and it was a huge moment for me.”
Jones said musicians like Super Furry Animals restored the confidence and faith in a language that was perhaps beaten out of children for generations. He says there’s been a “domino effect” – artists including Cate le Bon, Gwenno, Adwaith, Cerys Hafana, and Georgia Ruth, have used the language. “There’s a bunch of us who are developing sustainable careers in music, developing audiences internationally, all at slightly different levels,” he says.
He says that now, “it's sort of self perpetuating because we have the mechanisms in place… there is a pathway and an awareness that actually…the Welsh language isn't a barrier.”
Wales is lucky to have structures written into law that support the language revitalisation quest. The Arts Council of Wales requires grant recipients and funded organizations to support bilingualism and respect the official status of Gymraeg under the Welsh Language (Wales) Measure 2011. “If they support a festival, the festival is obligated to communicate in the Welsh language and to consider and support and platform artists who want to perform in the Welsh language.” That means “pathways are always there, and they are plentiful.”
The panel was held the same week that the 2026 Music Manifesto was published here in Aotearoa, which asked the future government to commit to investing in the industry. One of the seven asks is recognising, supporting, and championing the development of Māori music as one of our unique offerings to the world, and its potential to be a globally significant cultural export that strengthens Aotearoa’s economy, identity and international reputation. The manifesto mentions targeted export initiatives, trade missions, diplomatic engagement and international cultural exchange as ways to do that.
For Rapana, te reo Māori is the superpower that makes New Zealand music unique. “If people can fall in love with te reo Māori, they will look after it, and they’ll feel proud about it, they’ll rave about it,” Rapana said. “For some reason in Aotearoa, we need an international person to acknowledge it.” Recently, Rapana and Allen recorded at Abbey Road Studios in London in the spirit of lifting the imagination for te reo Māori to a language with global value. Jones said that expanding your horizons internationally can play a great role in developing your audience at home: “It creates a talking point for media, for radio, for fans to be excited that you're being ambitious.”
Allen can see progress. There is improved uptake in waiata Māori on radio for instance, but there is still a way to go. “As a Māori artist, I know that I carry way more than what I'm just creating,” said Allen. “I'm a representation of my iwi, my whānau, my hapū… and I want to be a good example for my people. So although I'm writing hectic Māori music, we are still fighting a massive fight as Māori artists.”
