Behind the Māhūi

The nightlife collective Māhū Mix rallies an intrepid hui of PasifiQueers both on and off the dance floor.

Interview by Mitchell Kuga
Images by Mahinahokukauikamoana Choy-Ellis


Since its inception in 2022, the O‘ahu-based collective Māhū Mix has consistently organized events both on and off the dance floor centering māhū, trans, and queer people of color—or what the group lovingly refers to as PasifiQueers. It’s a joyous yet hardfought mission—particularly against the backdrop of Hawai‘i’s relatively conservative nightlife scene, and especially during this political moment—and one they don’t take lightly. As Dr. Tatiana Kalani‘ōpua Young once put it: “Māhū Mix saves lives.”

The hui drew inspiration from Papi Juice and Bubble_T, two New York-based nightlife collectives that joined forces to throw a pop-up party called “Māhū Mix” at Aupuni Space back in 2019. At the party “everyone, and I mean everyone, had smiles up to their ears,” recalls Hercules E. Goss-Kuehn, who would go on to found Māhū Mix three years later. “The fits were sickening, the music was banging. I was in body—embodied—and it was in that moment that I truly wanted to carry on that feeling.” 

Though Māhū Mix was inspired by parties on the continent, its concerns are rooted firmly in the Pacific. It has helped organize a fundraiser for the Lahaina fires, participated in activist-led protests like Bash Rimpac Bash, and hosted a queer surf day. What unites these actions is the collective’s radical insistence on bolstering queer joy, which feels like more of a demand than a request. “Being tolerated or allowed is not enough,” Goss-Kuehn says. “I want complete faggotry.”

Nightlife, however, remains the lifeblood of Māhū Mix. Its next party, at Hawaiian Brian’s on April 19, celebrates the iconography of the femme fatale, which Goss-Kuehn sees as akin to “reclaiming one’s sovereignty. To be femme fatale is to be transgressive, to challenge patriarchal expectations of self.” 

Lei spoke to Goss-Kuehn and two other members of the ever-evolving collective— Lanie Punani (aka DJ Mo Nani Mo Love) and Makananui Fuller—about how the party has grown, some of the challenges behind throwing a queer rave in Hawai‘i, and their dream Māhū Mix blunt rotation. 

Hi Māhū Mix! What are some of the considerations in creating a space that centers queer and trans people of color, particularly in Hawai‘i? And what are some of the challenges? 

Lanie Punani: To me, one of the core things Māhū Mix represents is that our joy is sacred, and a lot of what we do is for the love of this land, love for people, and liberation everywhere. We gather everyone, set intentions, and do pule beforehand. That’s the energy and mindset we try to bring when creating spaces. Another big thing is safety, which is a challenge in Hawai‘i considering the intersectionalities with a highly militarized fake state, limited venues, homophobia, and state and HPD regulations. We want more people to know and come to Māhū Mix, including allies, but we also want to protect our people. We have to be intentional and thoughtful because we can’t just pick any venue and call it a day as easily as cis folks can. Even if the music and events they host are amazing, most of the bars in Chinatown are straight and military centered. It’s important we feel safe, supported, and celebrated by everyone, from the bar staff to the security guards to the organizers to the club managers. 

Hercules E. Goss-Kuehn: Exactly, and with that, I want to illuminate that PasifiQueer talent is tough to come by. Which is why we are attempting to nurture the idea of a Doll DJ University. We’re still toying around with this, but we wanted to teach, mentor, and build a DJ curriculum that also explores how to produce events, create graphic media, and become an MC to help pull more people into the scene. 

Makananui Fuller: I remember the first time I was helping at a Māhū Mix event, we did pule right before we opened the doors. Which reminded me that friendship can be ceremonial. Decolonizing our ways of connection and gathering makes me know that there’s a good team behind making these events in Hawai‘i.

Since your first event in 2022, how has the party evolved? And has anything about that evolution surprised you?

Makananui Fuller: The party has definitely grown from smaller venues to bigger ones, and more collaborations with other organizations. I’d be more surprised if Māhū Mix didn’t evolve. There’s a famine of joy, not because people aren’t capable but because there are not enough spaces. Māhū Mix isn’t the only space in Hawai‘i for queer nightlife, but hopefully it contributes to an ever-growing ecosystem. My wish is that it inspires people to make more spaces. 

Hercules E. Goss-Kuehn: Going off of what Makananui said, there’s actually a growing number of dance and party scenes. That excites me, because a rising tide lifts all wa‘a. And with that, the party has evolved over time to embrace and celebrate more and more people.

I swear, I feel like I have my finger on the pulse of who is on island, but with each party, there’s always more and more trans and queer islanders and friends that come out, and it sparks joy to see that we’re pulling in people who are looking for community. There has been a multi-generational and multicultural growth to our parties that I still feel gagged by! 

Beyond nightlife, Māhū Mix has also hosted a queer surf day and participated in activist-led initiatives like Bash Rimpac Bash. What connects these events to the party, and what have they taught you about the potentiality of queer nightlife to extend beyond the club? 

Lanie Punani: It’s important to be in community outside of nightlife. Yeah, we love to be embodied down, but we need to also extend that outside of just ourselves, outside of the club life, and despite any differences people have, to unite people on and off the dance floor. It’s important to learn and know history whilst creating our tomorrow. We know being māhū and queer joy is an act of political and radical resistance in itself, so aloha ‘āina it up, land back it up, chill kickbacks—building pilina beyond the club is essential because after that song and beat ends … then what? How we gonna keep that beat going in our everyday interactions? I wanna keep building. I wanna keep learning and unlearning. I wanna keep holding myself and others accountable. I wanna keep growing with our community. I hope others do too. 

Makananui Fuller: I’m reminded of something I heard regarding the AIDS epidemic in the ’80s, which was that organizers would party at night, and that joy gave them the energy to protest during the day. So for me, it seems like a natural perpetuation of itself. It’s taught me that joy is resistance, especially in this climate of anti-trans rhetoric. Protesting doesn’t have to only be walking with signs in the streets. It can also look like creating collective spaces focused on queer and trans joy. The love we can give each other is more than they could ever give us. 

Hercules E. Goss-Kuehn: Being tolerated or allowed is not enough, I want complete faggotry. Whether Māhū Mix is one’s personal haven, retreat, escape, immersion, ascendance, this space is a vessel that allows you to find others and yourself. Having intentional gathering spaces such as Māhū Mix allow us to check-in on others, we get to support up-and-coming talent, we see each other grow, we get to recharge and sweat our worries away so that we can be ready to rally another day. If we as the triple AAA (activists, academics, and artists) grind everyday without respite, we burn-out. It is imperative we have opportunities to explore embodied, sovereign, and autonomous joy.

How do you define a successful Māhū Mix event? Do you have a favorite moment? 

Makananui Fuller: My favorite moment is any moment the dolls get tipped for dancing while DJ MoNaniMoLove is spinning. Any time Lanie is on deck, I know we’re in good hands.

Hercules E. Goss-Kuehn: Bhanu Kapil, an Indian poet and author born in Britain writes, “Describe a morning you woke without fear.” Like clockwork, the mornings after Māhū Mix, I always wake without fear. 

One of my key moments was when Cocoa Chandelier surprised us for “Māhū Mix: Whorror” at Aupuni Space and took over the decks, plugged in her USB drive, and gave a sickening performance, then said au revoir and immediately wen ha‘a lele. 

What inspired Femme Fatale, the theme for the upcoming party on April 19th? And what can you tell me about your partnership with Honolulu Horror Nights, and Māhū Mix’s relationship to Halloween in general?

Femme Fatale is about reclaiming one’s sovereignty. To be femme fatale is to be transgressive, to challenge patriarchal expectations of self. There is the potentiality of subversion, to twist the debilitating expectation of gender roles. The way we’re interpreting this is a feminist perspective that allows for subversion and empowerment. Oftentimes we see femme fatales as a threat to the status quo, especially to straight cis-gendered men, and we are here to defy that. 

Steven Hobaica leads Honolulu Horror Nights. I remember meeting Steven Hobaica, the lead of Honolulu 

Horror Nights (HNN), and walking away from our conversation thinking — this is a hottie powerhouse in their element. And that was shy of twoish years ago! Steven and I are friends, and we decided to combine efforts last year Halloween. What culminated was one of the largest events we’ve both had and had such joy emanating from that. Steven and I get along as workmates because we both share the same values of producing: empathy, intentionality, and scrutinizing (at times agonizing) each detail.

Lanie Punani: The relationship to Halloween was organic because yes I am a halloweenie freak but historically and at its core horror is very māhū, very queer, very trans, very dey/dem. It allows for exploring themes of otherness, identity, patriarchy, misogyny, social anxieties, sexuality, cuntness and spirituality. Although back in the day, some villains/stereotypes were reinforcing harmful narratives, this genre gives way to reclaim and give alternative perspectives by featuring complex and constructive queer and trans characters. 

What kind of music should we expect, and how do you select DJs for the party? 

Lanie Punani: Baby, I’m giving you everything! A lot of heavy dirty bass, techno, budots, ballroom vogue moments, baile funk, hip hop, jungle, dnb, garage, Jahwaiian, classic rave tunes, with a little sprinkle of familiar Y2K club classics, and strong, divine, transgressive, transnational, sovereign feminine energy. I usually just create an intro and freestyle the rest of my set. It depends on the theme of the party and the conversational energy of the crowd. Just know you will feel it not just in your heart but in your nani and your whole body. Booties will most definitely be popping, locking, and dropping. I wanna see you faggot fakaz sweat!

What’s good Māhū Mix attire?

Hercules E. Goss-Kuehn: Honestly sis, anything that incites euphoria. This is a night to definitely pull out all the stops and step your nani up. 

Who’s in your dream Māhū Mix blunt rotation?

Lanie Punani: For this season: Doechii, Jerrine Jeffries, Angela Davis, Pamela Ramos, and Ryuk from Death Note.

Hercules E. Goss-Kuehn: BB Gunz from PacifiKunt, Dr. Haunani-Kay Trask right after her ‘Onipa‘a speech at ‘Iolani Palace in 1993, Khun Chinni Official, Nalin Satearrujikanon from The Future is Ladyboy campaign, the Glades girls, and Lara Croft, but the PlayStation One version.