Dame Gillian Karawe Whitehead—A life in composition

Growing up surrounded by music, it was inevitable that alumna Dame Gillian Whitehead DNZM (Ngāi Terangi) would find her life’s work in sound.

Woman with short bob with seaside and hills in background
Dame Gillian Karawe Whitehead. Photo credit: Gareth Watkins
“My parents met in the first year that music was taught at Auckland University—they were both practising musicians and teachers,” she says. “So, I grew up with music around me all the time.”

Despite that musical environment, composition wasn’t an obvious path. “If you were a girl, it was teaching or nursing,” the renowned composer says. “I thought, oh well—teaching, I suppose. Nobody, man or woman, said they were going to be a composer. There was Douglas Lilburn and one or two others, but you had to get a real job.”

Dame Gillian began her Bachelor of Music with Honours at Auckland University, before completing her final year at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington, where she found a nurturing environment for composers.

Among her lecturers were composer David Farquhar and the pioneering Douglas Lilburn, “the star of the composition department. He didn’t teach composition, but he was there and was encouraging.”

It was during her first year at University that Dame Gillian declared her ambitions to compose. “I wrote to my mother, saying, ‘I’m going to be a composer when I grow up and my music will be like this…’. And oddly enough, twenty years later, what I was writing wasn’t that far from that prediction.”

After graduating, she moved to Sydney to pursue her Master’s degree, where she deepened her understanding of Asian music and refined her own style. A chance meeting with British composer Sir Peter Maxwell Davies opened doors in Europe. “Both Max and my former teacher Ron Tremain had studied at the same time with [Italian composer] Petrassi in Rome. It felt like one of those strange full circles.”

She moved to London and worked as a music copyist until receiving a grant from the then Arts Council (now Creative New Zealand), winning a prize, and receiving a commission allowed her to establish herself in Europe. “By living frugally, I had four years where I didn’t have to do any other work besides composing,” she says. “I spent time in Italy and Portugal and worked as a music copyist in London—back then, everything was written by hand. Every part for every instrument had to be copied manually. It took hours.”

Her first commissioned work, Fantasia on Three Notes, was one of the first publications from Wai-te-ata Music Press, founded by Douglas Lilburn. The work was first performed on Radio Turkey—an early sign of the international reach her music would achieve.

Dame Gillian’s work has since been performed around the world. She has won numerous awards, including being named an icon of the New Zealand Arts Foundation in 2018, and an inaugural Artist Laureate in 2000.

She was appointed a member of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to music in 1999, and in 2008 was named a Distinguished Companion of the New Zealand Order of Merit. In 2003, she received an Honorary Doctor of Music from Te Herenga Waka.

Over her distinguished career, Dame Gillian has created a body of work that draws deeply on the histories and landscapes of Aotearoa. Her recent operas continue this tradition, blending contemporary composition with Māori themes and stories.

A recent highlight was her opera Mate Ururoa, staged by Opera Wellington. “It tells the story of Captain Roger Dansey, who fought with the Māori Pioneer Battalion in the First World War,” she says. “He disobeyed orders to save his men and was sent home in disgrace, then went back to fight at the Somme, where he was gassed. It’s such a powerful story—it needed to be told.”

Another major work, The Journey of Mataatua Whare — the house that came home, was inspired by the extraordinary journey of the great wharenui Mataatua, which was taken overseas for exhibitions in the 19th century before finally being returned home. “It was probably the most significant piece I’ve written,” she says. “There were three soloists—one representing Māori, one representing Pākehā, and a soprano who was the voice of the house itself. People really responded to it.”

Dame Gillian has been instrumental in developing the use of taonga pūoro (traditional Māori instruments) in contemporary music, collaborating closely with the late Richard Nunns and Horomona Horo. “I’m not just telling stories,” she says. “I want to explore sound—whether it’s instruments made from wood, bone, or flax. It’s about finding new voices.”

After decades of composing, teaching, and mentoring, Dame Gillian offers this advice to young composers: “Be curious and explore sound. Even if you don’t like something, explore it—you might find something there. And don’t expect to make a fortune,” she adds with a smile. “What you need is determination. University can be a bit of a hothouse—you have to find a way to get from that into the real world. It’s not easy for anyone.”

She worries about the future of music education in New Zealand. “The [funding] cuts are very bad,” she says. “I fear the best students will go overseas. We need strong support and one-to-one teaching—it’s expensive, but that’s how musicians develop.”

Asked why music matters, she pauses before answering. “Because it’s creativity—it’s how stories are told, and imagination is expressed. Without imagination and vision, it’s a very grey and colourless world.”