When I walked into the museum after being told about our project I already knew that I wanted to pick something on the Haitian Vodou altar. There’s something about Vodou that has always intrigued me. Maybe it was its misrepresentation in media that made me want to learn more about it, just like with my interests in Paganism and Wicca. That morning I walked into the exhibit and over to the Vodou altar I noticed objects and details that I hadn’t noticed when we had previously visited. I was drawn to multiple objects that had feathers on them, objects that my prior knowledge of African diasporic religions couldn’t help me understand. There was one specific object with blue and red feathers and an orb and stem kind of shape that caught my attention. Looking through the booklet next to the altar I found the object and read about it. It was a pakèt kongo for the goddess Èzili Dantò, protector of single mothers and abused women. At that point I didn’t need to look at any other objects, I knew I wanted to research Èzili Dantò and the pakèt kongo.

A pakèt kongo is a kind of container. The one I chose is primarily red and blue and is completely made of fabric, except for the feathers. It sits elevated on the altar, the blue and red striped base is full and held with a blue ribbon tied in a bow. Ribbons come out from the middle of the base, pale yellow and sticking up like bubbles on top of a drink. As my eyes move farther from the center, gold ribbons with a green pattern of flowers and squares and red ribbons embroidered with blue flowers and stems and gold trimming curl outwards giving the rounded base the appearance of a blooming flower. Protruding upward from the pale yellow ribbons is a stem wrapped tightly in red fabric. Two feathers extend from the stem, wispy and bent. The large red one grabs my attention first, but the smaller blue one demands to be seen too. An intricate kind of calm intensity surrounds the object, which was at first confusing but as I learned more about Èzili Dantò and about how pakèt kongo’s work, I began to understand its meaning, how it’s used in Vodou, and how it represents Èzili Dantò.

Many African diasporic religions have the belief that when someone is sick or injured the problem is not just physical; it’s also spiritual. It is usually thought that the problem occurred because whoever is sick or injured has fallen out of sync with the universe. The problem is then addressed ritually and holistically. In Haitian Vodou practitioners see doctors when needed, like for broken bones or serious illnesses, but the issue is still taken care of through ritual healing ceremonies in order to restore balance to the spiritual side of things. Most, if not all, of these rituals involve pakèt kongos.

The ancestor of the pakèt kongo is the nkisi, a healing bundle that comes from Kongo in Central Africa. There are minkisi (plural of nkisi) that have a kind of stem-on-globe shape, and then there are minkisi figurines. Both have medicinal herbs inside them, but the shape that has persisted through Haitian Vodou is the stem-on-globe shape. Minkisi had many different uses and were often associated with spirits, much like Haitian pakèt kongos. However, pakèt kongos are not filled with herbs or medicines, the bases of them are filled with soil from a graveyard or cemetery. They are “charged with spirits from underneath the land of the living” (Daniels 2013, 423). This core component is essential for the pakèt kongo to work at all.

The slaves that were in Haiti back in the late 1700s and early 1800s mainly came from Kongo and Benin. The slave revolution lasted from 1791 until 1804 and the slaves were aided by Polish troops that came with the French troops. Due to this Haitian Vodou was exposed to Christianity and Èzili Dantò was paralleled with Our Lady of Czestochowa, the black Madonna. Èzili Dantò is the fierce mother who will drop everything to protect her children, and she fought alongside the slaves during the revolution. She has two vertical scars on one of her cheeks, scars from an injury she received while fighting alongside her children. However, her children also betrayed her during the revolution because they thought that she couldn’t keep their secrets. This belief caused them to cut out her tongue so she could no longer talk. It is said that Èzili Dantò cannot see blood because “At the sight of blood, Dantò goes wild” (McCarthy Brown, 2010, 231). One point that is emphasized in texts about Èzili Dantò is that above all else, she is a mother and her children come first.

In Karen McCarthy Brown’s novel Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn, there is a story told by Mama Lola’s daughter, Maggie, about an experience she had with Èzili Dantò shortly after arriving in the US. Maggie got sick and had to go to the emergency room and the physician there thought she had tuberculosis and wanted to hospitalize her, but Maggie begged to go home. The doctor let her go home under the condition that she come back the next day for more tests. However that night:

We just went to bed, and then I saw, like a shadow, coming to the light… Next minute, I actually saw a lady standing in front of me… with a blue dress, and she have a veil covering her head and her face… she pull up the veil and I could see it was her with the two mark. Èzili Dantò with the two mark on her cheek… she told me to turn my back around, she was going to heal me… She rubbed my lungs and everything; she rub it, and then she said, ‘Now you know what to do for me. Just light up a candle and thank me.’… I went back to the doctor, and the doctor say, ‘What’s wrong with you? I thought you was sick!’ (McCarthy Brown, 227)

Èzili Dantò drops everything when her children are in need, without thinking twice. However, there is another side to Èzili Dantò that I mentioned briefly before. She is also known as Èzili of the Red Eyes and “some people call Dantò a baka (evil spirit)” because “Dantò can be evil, too… She kills a lot. If you put her upside down, you tell her to go and get somebody, she will go and get that person. If that person don’t want to come, she break that person neck and bring that person to you” (McCarthy Brown, 231-232). She is the warrior mother, the protector of single mothers, working women, abused women, and all her children. If she needs to be fierce, or if someone wants her to be evil, she will be.

The calm and intensity in Èzili Dantò’s personality are shown in her pakèt kongo through the blue and red colors that are present. The blue ribbon tied in a bow around the base is secured with pins, and the binding of the fabric isn’t just to keep the soil from getting out but “also to ensure that the spirit is kept in” (Daniels 2013, 423). As I mentioned before, there is a belief in Haitian Vodou that an illness or injury needs to be addressed both physically and spiritually. Pakèt kongos are used to help correct the imbalances in the cosmos through healing rituals. The one for Èzili Dantò is most likely used to pray specifically to Èzili Dantò for spiritual healing.

At the beginning of this project I wanted to learn more about Èzili Dantò just because of what I read about her in the little booklet next to the Haitian Vodou altar. That evolved into me wanting to know more about how the pakèt kongo on the altar represents her and how pakèt kongos are used in Vodou. I think I would need to see one used in a ritual to fully understand the ways in which they’re used in Vodou, however it is one of the most interesting objects I’ve ever studied. Haitian Vodou combines art with ritual and the pakèt kongo is a perfect example of that. The object appears incredibly decorative, but it does have a purpose, and one that is incredibly important. Seeing the object on an altar in a museum puts it out of context, automatically making it more difficult to understand the use of the object, it seems more decorative than purposeful. Art has power, and the exhibit gives that a new meaning, making it fitting that a pakèt kongo for Èzili Dantò be on the Haitian Vodou altar.

Bibliography

Daniels, Kyrah Malika. “The Undressing of Two Sacred Healing Bundles: Curative Arts in the Black Atlantic in Haiti and Ancient Kongo.”Journal of Africana Religions 1, no. 3(2013):416-429.

McCarthy Brown, Karen. “Ezili.” In Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn, 219-58. University of California Press, 2010.

McCarthy Brown, Karen. “Afro-Caribbean Spirituality: A Haitian Case Study.” In Vodou in Haitian Life and Culture: Invisible Powers, 1-25.

Thompson, Robert Farris. 1983. “The Sign of the Four Moments of the Sun.” In The Flash of the Spirit, 119-127. Random House, Inc.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-ndSaxwWzCmW7DPBxu_Grgikkb9FH_V5iLJKDVTP_Qw/edit?usp=sharing

The Spirited Things exhibit in the Fleming Museum is a lively display of  altars and artworks from various Caribbean religions. The exhibit is erupting with color, wonder, magic, history, and life. Each piece was curiously unfamiliar to me, some more than others. It was difficult to identify the piece I was most interested in–there were dangling tassels, glittery fabrics, and bright colors at every turn. I was drawn to the Gelede Mask because of it’s quiet, powerful appearance. It contrasted with other objects in the exhibit in that it was not decorated in a particularly eye-catching way–it was composed of primarily earth tones, and its display was very simple and uncomplicated. It was standing alone in a minimalistic glass càs̩e̩, located in a section of the museum dedicated to items related to gender–a topic I take a special interest in. The mask displays a woman’s face, decorated with a snake wrapped around her head, and a warthog and hunter on the back side. This essay will explore the ideas that the Gelede mask is 1) an an active spiritual altar and 2) demonstrates the importance of women in ritual practices, while also raising questions about gender dynamics involved in such rituals.

The Gelede mask was created in July of 1983 for use within the Gelede festival in Nigeria–a spectacular ritual that pays homage to the spiritual powers of women. The powers possessed by such women are believed to influence the flow of good and bad events in practitioners’ lives, and can be used for the benefit/destruction of society. These powers are comparable to those of gods, spirits, and ancient ancestors of Yoruba peoples. Women (usually elders) who use their spiritual powers for destructive purposes are deemed witches in Yoruba culture. The Gelede ritual’s aim is to influence the witches to use their powers for good versus evil. Interestingly, men perform this ritual wearing masks that depict the faces of beautiful women. The Gelede festival includes costumes, music, singing, and dancing, and usually take place in a marketplace–the woman’s domain in Nigeria.

In the Gelede festival, women are the subjects of worship. Men dress as women and wear masks that imitate their faces:

The mask itself, then, is not the only element in these portrayals: in performance the male dancer imitates the movements of a woman. The young girls and women watch these embodiments of the feminine ideal, understanding that the conduct of the masquerade is what men desire of them. As Manuel Jordan suggests, however, “Women are willing to accept the female model presented to them by men if they agree that it represents them appropriately (Cameron 1998, 72).

Professor of history, art, and visual culture at University of California Santa Cruz, Elisabeth L. Cameron provides insights into the complex gender dynamics/relations within the Gelede festival. There are bound to be some interesting dynamics surrounding a ritual in which men “pose” as women in order to worship the spiritual powers of women themselves. The mask itself depicts a hunter on the back of the woman’s head. The hunter’s placement brings about some questions related to gender relations both in Yoruba culture and in the Gelede festival–does the hunter on the back of the woman’s head convey the idea that men are ultimately in control of these traditions? Within the context of this mask and ritual, it could also mean that men are at the mercy of women, as they worship and pray that their ritual will influence the witches present in their lives to use their power for the benefit of society instead of destruction. The Gelede mask is a meaningful and beautiful piece of artwork, but also functions as an altar within Yoruba culture. The rituals that this mask is used in give it the sense of life that African art is known for.

Spiritual altars in Yoruba cultures provide ways to call spirits, ancestors, gods, or other symbolic beings to a specific place. Altars are often adorned with beautiful decorations and offerings to various orisha (gods). Most often, altars are long tables or displays full of spiritual objects and vessels, some containing the essence of different orisha. The Gelede mask on display does not appear to be an altar in the traditional sense of the word–however, the Gelede mask functions as an active spiritual altar among Yoruba people who practice Gelede tradition. It’s purpose is, indeed, to call upon spirits of witches and attempt to guide or influence what they use their powers for. This type of altar is different than a traditional table altar, in that it is actively used in rituals rather than observed and simply used as a place to leave offerings and extend worship to the different orisha.

The Gelede mask is art with a purpose–it was created with clear and dedicated craftsmanship (as you can see from its detailed paint), while also erupting with a sense of power, purpose, and most importantly, functionality: “African art was not even considered art with a capital “A” until relatively recent times mainly because art was defined entirely by modernist Western scholars for whom art was ‘for art’s sake’” (Abiodun 2014, 2). African art is created with the idea that it must have a source of life to hold any meaning. In Rowland Abiodun’s book, Yoruba Art and Language: Seeking the African in African Art, he discusses the idea that artworks in Africa need to be ”activated” by some form of energy or life in order for the art to reach its full potential, and the doubt and skepticism that Westerns have shown towards this idea. Such is the case with the Gelede mask: until it is activated by using it in symbolic rituals, the mask does not hold nearly as much meaning as it would after it’s been infused with life and energy from the Gelede festival.

Yoruba scholar Babatunde Lawal states that “. . . the human image, a masterpiece by Obatala, embodies a special power (às̩e̩), inspiring and sustaining the creativity manifest in the visual, performing, and applied arts . . .” (Lawal 1996, 24). Lawal’s description of às̩e̩ connects well to Abiodun’s insights about the way Western scholars didn’t recognize African art as “true” art. In his book, Abiodun also discussed in depth the idea that African art must be activated by some energy in order to possess meaning to the people who observe, perform, and appreciate it–this life present in African art is called às̩e̩. This idea of às̩e̩ does not lend itself easily to straightforward description, translation, and analysis using Western terminologies present in the humanities (Abiodun 2014, 56). Ás̩e̩ is not something that we, in the West, use to classify and qualify objects and people–however, in Yoruba culture, às̩e̩ describes a desirable, divine life force that, if present in a person or object, gives a divine meaning and essence to said person/object. As the Gelede mask is used and therefore initiated in the Gelede festival, its às̩e̩ increàs̩e̩s as practitioners “breathe” life into the mask by using it in such a way that infuses it with energy from the spirits and witches it calls upon.

The Gelede mask, in my opinion, is one of the most interesting objects in the Spirited Things exhibit. It carries such complex connotations and ideas related to gender and the dynamics involved in the Gelede festival. The Gelede ritual delves into the way women are perceived by both themselves and the men imitating them in Yoruba culture. The mask also demonstrates the idea of às̩e̩–a concept not present in Western art or culture, but one that carries possibly the most divine meaning in Yoruba culture. The Gelede mask is a representation of the idea that art must be alive in some way in order to have meaning and reach its predetermined purpose/potential. African art is not created to simply observe and contemplate. I believe this is why Western scholars took/are taking such a long time to validate African art. The idea that art isn’t meant to be still or on display is unfamiliar to these scholars, and unfamiliarity, in many cases precedes dissent.

Bibliography

Abiodun, Rowland. “às̩e̩: Verbalizing and Visualizing Creative Power through Art.” Journal of Religion in Africa 24, no. 4 (November 1994): 309. doi:10.2307/1581339.

Abiodun. Yoruba Art and Language: Seeking the African in African Art. Cambridge University Press, 2014.

Cameron, Elisabeth L. “Men Portraying Women: Representations in African Masks.” African Arts 31, no. 2 (1998): 72-94. doi:10.2307/3337523.

Lawal, Babatunde. The Gẹ̀lẹ̀dé Spectacle : Art, Gender, and Social Harmony in an African Culture / Babatunde Lawal. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1996.

The staff (paxorô) for the God Oxalufa is my object of interest for this analysis. The simplicity and complexity of this object were very compelling to my eye. Walking around the museum my eyes and mind stumbled upon a tall staff surrounded by various crowns. Mounted on a block, standing about 5 feet tall stood this particular all silver staff. At the top of the silver staff is a silver crown with a single standing dove upon the crown. Hanging out of the mouth of the dove is a silver pendant of a bell. Pendants fall from the bottom of the crown in symbols of bells, mortars, fish, butterflies, and feathers. Approximately halfway from the top of the staff down to the middle of the staff are 6 equally placed tier-like structures. Starting from the topmost tier slightly under the crown and then going down, each tier progressively gets moderately larger. Identical to the crown mounted at the top of the staff, each of the tiers has the same pendants hanging from them. Each pendant represents an Orixa or God of the Candomblé religion. Visually analyzing this object lead to my curiosity about the use of this object and the symbolism this object provides the individual who uses it in the Candomblé religion. Through research of the God associated with this staff, I was able to figure out the meaning behind this staff.

The religion this objectis associated with is the religion of Candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian religion. Candomblé was founded in the late eighteenth century around Bahia. The elements in Candomblé resemble elements of Yoruba religion. This decent of Candomblé from Yoruba was due to the prominent practice of the Yoruba religion among slaves. Candomblé focuses on the traditional dispensing of sacraments to the orixas or spirits or deities. Specifically, this object is for the orixa Oxalufa also known as Oxalá or Obatala.

The orixa Oxalá is known in the Candomblé religion as the father of all Gods and the creator of mankind. He is known as the high God or the supreme God and is also the seniority figure. This position was gained by his high moral standards and the integrity of his priests and worshipers. Oxalá is visualized as the oldest of the orixas and walks with the staff to support his hunched over body. Seniority, purity, and whiteness are all used to describe him. White clothing is broadly associated with Candomblé but is more specifically worn by Oxalá worshipers. White and silver are known to be Oxalás colors because they are the simplest and purest colors.

This staff is meant to be a symbol of higher power and higher authority. It’s relation to the God Oxalá gives those in the possession of the staff the view that they are a superior and are a follower of Oxalá. The staff is a symbol of power and the mixture of this and the association with the supreme God gives the staff the symbolism of royal power or authority power. The dove at the top of the staff symbolizes that purity of Oxalá. The dove is also the preferred sacrificial animal to give to Oxalá. This purity and power are shown through the staff with its numerous pendants. Each pendant is associated with another orixa or God in the Candomblé religion. For example, the pendant of the fish represents the goddess of the sea Iemanja and the butterfly represents the goddess Iansa. Oxalá is the father or the senior brother to each other orixas. Therefore, their involvement in the staff dedicated to Oxalá symbolizes his authority to all kinds, Gods, and mankind.

In an altar created by Mai Jocelinha in Salvador, Bahia, Brazil, two staffs of Oxalá are placed on either side of a white draped cloth making it look like Oxalá as the center with the crown on his head. In front are white and silver offerings including bells, white flowers, metals and ceramic tiles. This altar is meant to convey Oxalás glory, honesty, and purity. The staffs on either side of the altar are to signify the maturity and wisdom of the eldest Oxalá figures.

The representation of authority and seniority are given off by the staff of Oxala. All figures in possession of this staff are not questioned to have great authority in their community. Usually, these figures are the eldest authority or priests who are in possession of this staff. The pendants that hang from each of the tiers are heard to make the noise associated with Oxala. Metals striking against each other is the sound of Oxala walking with the staff to support him. Staffs are commonly seen as a royalty symbol and in the Candomblé religion, this particular staff is seen similarly as a way to identify a person of higher power.

Staff of Oxala Annotated Bibliography

Beier, U. 1956. Nigeria magazine: Obatala festival, 10-28.

Cahn, Peter S. “Brazil.” In Worldmark Encyclopedia of Religious Practices, 2nd ed., edited by Thomas Riggs, 217-226. Vol. 2, Countries, Afghanistan to Ghana. Farmington Hills, MI: Gale, 2015. Gale Virtual Reference Library

Harding, Rachel E. “Afro-Brazilian Religions.” In Encyclopedia of Religion, 2nd ed., edited by Lindsay Jones, 119-125. Vol. 1. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2005. Gale Virtual Reference Library

ROCA, ROGER SANSI. “Catholic Saints, African Gods, Black Masks and White Heads: Tracing the History of Some Religious Festivals in Bahia.” Portuguese Studies 21 (2005): 182-200.

Thompson, Robert Farris. “Face of the Gods: The Artists and Their Altars.” African Arts 28, no. 1 (1995): 50-61.

Seth Epling

The object was stuck in a falling state, suspended in mid air.  A weapon among an altar, a scepter with crowns surrounding. I wanted to know where there was such a violent looking object in a place where everything else is full of color and life. The scepter does not stand out. It has little color and small designs that are worn away. The handle is simple, wooden staff. The kind of wood that if you held it, it would give you splinters. There are three brass segments on staff and right above the one at the top there is a cat like creature. It is a very interesting creature with a big cat body and long ears or horns. One of the biggest reasons why I picked this object is this animal and the shadow it casts. The shadow from the display makes it look like the cat is walking along the staff. Right before the axe head, two horns protrude, similar to the cat’s ears . There is the blade that is made of metal with tidal waves throughout the edge. Two metal pieces hold down the blade, an S shape metal piece and a spring piece. The last thing on the scepter is a flower a 6 petal flower below the horns and next to the head. On every other petal there are bumps that seem to make a simple pattern. This lead me to what I wanted to learn from this object. Why is this deadly object in a place of worship. Even within the scepter there are juxtapositions as there is a flower that draws your eye to it. I wanted to learn everything about this scepter and the god it represented, Hevioso or shungo. Contrary to its looks, it is not a weapon, it a tool used for religious and political festivals. I question the meaning behind with the aspects of the king and the deity he represented. As a hot god, Hevioso in vodou or Shungo in yoruba tradition, he does things quickly and people who have him as a deity are usually in power. This leads me to argue that this scepter was used to show power over the king’s followers. In the rest of the paper, I will give background on Hevioso and how a different king follows him and basic information on vodou and Yoruba tradition. Next I will talk about a king who was represented by the same god, Hevioso, King Glele and will then show how the scepter would be used in a festival based on first hand basis of people who research the religion. I will explain the cat creature on top of the staff and the significance it has towards the scepter.  

In what is now the country of Benin, there was a kingdom named the Dahomey kingdom which ruled for around 300 years from 1600s-1900s. The main religion was Vodou, which is a religion based of the following of spirits. Some of these spirits are ancestral, but every person has a deity that guides that person through life. There were many kings that ruled over the Dahomey kingdom and each king had a deity that represented him or her. This is very similar to the religion of Yoruba. Many of the gods between these two religions have the same duties but have different names and have little differences.  One god that many kings represented was Hevioso, the god of thunder for Vodou, is similar to Shogun, the god of thunder for Yoruba religion. “Hevioso is associated with the lightning-like gunfire and cannon during battle… Hevioso played an important role in war.” (Blier, 51). Hevioso is a god that likes to accomplish things quickly and effectively which is why many kings felt empowered by him. Hevioso is considered to be a hot god or petwo which is saying that he is an angry god but this is slightly wrong because they just did things fast and associated with war which is why they are perceived as angry. Often, Hevioso is represented as a lion because of his pride and his intensity. The king that was made for the scepter does not have information on him but there is another king, King Glele, that was much more influential who followed Hevioso in his actions.  

King Glele was the king of Dahomey for many years, and like stated previously, he had Hevioso guiding him. He was a military genius and spent many of years of reigning on conquering other people. He earned the nickname of “Lion King” and “Lion of Lions”. Below is a court song about his reign.

“King Glele,

the one who cannot be taken

Lion of lions

The Animal grew teeth

and all the forest trembled

The animal that eats

the other animal with bones

The lion is afraid of no animal” (Blier, 52)

People were afraid of King Glele and this is what this court song was saying. Fon people, the people who follow vodou in Benin, admired him but because of his actions, that were guided by Hevioso, they were taught not to wrong him. He was a fearsome ruler and stayed in power because of the fear he inflicted on people. He would not go around hurting his own people, but because of the vodou religion and the implication of him having Hevioso as his deity

Shown above is one of the scepter made for King Glele taken by Blier. It has many similar aspects to the scepter in the museum. The creature on top of our scepter has similar facial expressions and shape to this one. King Glele commissioned the making of many objects like this including big knives. According to Adjaho in Bliers writing, the making of the knives is to show great amount of force and that there would always vengeance.

These knives made for King Glele and the scepter that I am examining seem to be used in the same festivals and courts. For one they were used in the court systems, these objects were used as tribute to the royal dead, punish criminals, promote and pay court officials, celebrate military victory and display wealth of the royal family according to Blier. These knifes and the scepter are used as a way to show strength both physical and personal. For the king to show how much power and money he has, to demonstrate the greatness of his armies when they won. It was just to prove to the people that he is most supreme. This is interesting because one of the major viewpoints of the haitian religion is healing the body and soul. There doesn’t seem to be festivals or courts that use either these knives or the scepter that convey a main theme of health. They do have a belief that “People are born to die” (Brown, 4) and these objects are used to celebrate the deaths of a royal family. They seem to be used more in honor of the fallen, as in war or royally, then to be used in healing the body.

The reason for the cat creature towards the head of the staff is a little tough. Since there is no information on the king who kept this scepter, it is hard to know what exactly is the creature. In the picture of the Nesuhwe shrine house in Abomey from the book Asen, Ancestors, and Vodun there are two animals. The lion with a name above it that says Glele

Photo by E. Bay

which is his animal that represents him and next to him on the right side, there what seems to be a cat like animal with horns for Glele’s father, Ghezo. This animal is thought to be a buffalo because one part of his symbol is a buffalo, according to the new world encyclopedia. Using this information, I can infer that this animal, if it is a cat, buffalo, or anything that is aggressive and strong, is unique to the king that had this scepter and also a form of representing and honoring Hevioso.

I went into this research with the goal of figuring out what the scepter was used for and how it related to Hevioso. Unfortunately, not knowing what king had possession of the scepter made the research difficult. I was able to use King Glele who had the same deity and his father to infer multiple points. I was able to argue that the scepter was used to scare people and keep them below him or her. I was able to explain multiple parts of the scepter and how they related to Dahomey kingdom of the Fon culture. This just shows that it is hard to take any object out of context and expect to understand it fully. This goes along with any diasporic religion, the only way of full understanding of an object, it has to be seen in use at a ritual.

Bibliography

Bay, Edna G. Asen, Ancestors, and Vodun. Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2008.

Blier, Suzanne P. “King Glele of Danhomè, Part One: Divination Portraits of a Lion King and

Man of Iron.” African Art 23, no. 4 (October 1990): 42-53. JSTOR (3336943).

Brown, Karen M. Vodou in Haitian Life and Culture. Basingstoke, United Kingdom: Palgrave Macmillan Accessed October 30,

2017.

“Kingdom of Dahomey.” New World Encyclopedia , Edited by Frank Kaufmann, 11 May 2015,  

www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Kingdom_of_Dahomey.

Walking into the Fleming Museum’s Spirited Things: Sacred Arts of the Black Atlantic Exhibit, your eyes are inundated by radiant, intriguing, and esoteric objects of various Afro-Atlantic Religions. There are altars composed to honor various deities, plethoras of shining garments, beaded dolls, colorfully wrapped bottles, gorgeous tapestries with images of deities and mythical beings, gathered to express religious cultures. Families of objects line the walls and floors all telling a story of religious and cultural diversity of Yoruba Religions, Brazilian Candomblé, Santería, Haitian Vodoun, and much more.
To the left of me, in a large glass case surrounded by bottles of rum, cowrie shells, and dolls for wealth and prosperity, lies a strange wand-like object. This object, by reading the tag underneath, is known as the Ibirí Wand of the Goddess Naña. By observation, this object is about 15-20 inches in length, and extends from a straight handle, into two pieces of straw that bend in opposite directions to create an oval shaped looped at the summit of the wand. The ibirí is made of Palha da Costa, or African straw, and is adorned with rows of blue, red, gold and white glass beads. Glass Beads, or any links of beads are said to, within the practice of Candomblé, after being washed in herbal baths or blood offerings, are said to take on the ashe of the deities they are used for, and become a connection or a literal “link” from user or practitioner to the divine. Along with the beads decorating the Ibirí, pearly white cowrie shells, which create an oceanic aspect of the wand, entrancing sections of leather ranging in color, drawing your eyes in all directions around the shape of the wand, are present. Beginning at the base of the handle, my eyes seemed to follow the colors as they changed starting with black, blue, green, yellow, white, and finishing with red. I had never seen an object quite like this, that could catch my eyes and draw them in so many different directions at once, I was eager to discover more about this mesmerizing entity of an object. In this essay, I will provide background information on both the Ibirí and its owner, Naña Buruku. Also, I will explain how the wand is used within vocational rituals honoring and invoking the goddess of dance, death, and disease.
To start, I would like to first give a bit of background information on the owner of the Ibirí, Naña Buruku. Naña Buruku, is an orisha, or deity within the Brazilian religious practice of Candomblé. She is considered the Orisha of Death, Dance, Healing, Disease or Pestilence, and other aspects as well. She is considered a “grandmother” of the Orisha’s and is seen very much as a wise-woman within Brazilian Candomblé. Two of her children, are Ogun, the orisha of metal or iron, and Obaluaiye, the orisha of smallpox and pestilence. Naña is known amongst practitioners of Candomblé, as a powerful deity for asking for a pregnancy, to terminate a pregnancy, and for various types of healing. She is said to use the Ibirí as a broom of sorts, or as a staff to guide her followers and her children to their highest potential, like a grandmother spirit would do. However, just as Naña Buruku uses the Ibirí as a tool for helping her children, grandchildren, and devotees, the Orisha’s tool has also been known as a weapon. With this malicious usage of the Ibirí, or the ileeshin, an alternative Yoruba word for the Ibirí reflects a side of the Grandmother spirit that is rather contradicting and darker. “But if a cruel and horrible person stands before her, she can take the ileeshin, thrust it out horizontally before her and strike its looped tip against the belly of the man” (Thompson 1983, 71). This aspect of the Ibirí suggests an aspect of the Orisha that is just, and seeks to have justice against cruel or unjust people. This tells a sort of duality to Naña Buruku, a balance between nurturing and healing with justice and dealing punishment to those who may deserve it. The Ibirí and Naña both share a very balanced and equal power, dealing with both aspects of the world; that which is cruel and unjust, and that which is healing and has justice. This dual persona of the Orisha, seems to exist also within the eclectic gathering of colors within the Ibirí. The colors of blue, gold, white and green emphasize the healing and nurturing side of the Orisha, and her desire to watch and guide over her children, grandchildren, and worshippers. Also, the collection of the colors red and black, reflect on the side of Naña Buruku that wished to punish and serve justice to those who deserved it. I did learn a great deal of knowledge about the dual personalities of Naña Buruku, and created the connection between the colors of the Ibirí, and Naña’s personality. After feeling like I understood the Orisha on a more personal and human level, I wished to learn more about the backstory of both the Ibirí and the Orisha, during her human experience.
The Ibirí wand, was said to have been born with Naña Buruku at the beginning of her life on Earth. “Nana has possessed a certain staff from the beginning of her life on earth. She was born with this staff; it was not given to her by anyone… when she was born the staff was embedded in the placenta” (Thompson 1983, 71). This expresses that the history of Naña Buruku and the Ibirí are intertwined and show the dependence both the object and the deity have on each other. The Ibirí, was also said to have been cut from the placenta after birth, and placed into the Earth. The Ibirí was then said to grow as the child grew. “ Then they cut it from the placenta and they put it inside the Earth. But surprisingly, as the infant grew, the staff grew, too” (Thompson 1983, 71). This legend, in a sense emphasizes how Naña Buruku’s áshe, or her divine powers, grew as she did within the Ibirí and also emphasizes the idea within Afro-Atlantic religions that one’s áshe, or divine influence, grows along with them in the world.
The Ibirí, along with being used by the Orisha herself as a broom, as a staff of guidance, as a weapon, etc. is seen heavily in Candomblé imagery in the crook of Naña Buruku’s arms, as she is swaddling it like a child, again emphasizing her role as a grandmother spirit, a nurturer, and a healer. In one of my research questions, I wanted to discover more about the modern use of the Ibirí within ritualistic practices. This leaded me to discover that worshippers and devotees of Naña Buruku use a form of dancing called Tidalectics, a style of dancing that includes a swaying motion parallel to the action of the oceans waves. The Tidalectics style of dancing creates another connection to the nature of the Orisha herself, as she has been said to be found near oceans, rivers, and streams. The style of dancing known as Tidalectics also led me to create a connection between the ritualistic practice of dancing used to honor the orisha, and the use of Cowrie shells to adorn the Ibirí. Cowrie Shells, or shells of any type are naturally used as a representation of water, or of the ocean. The Cowrie shells used to embellish the Ibirí create a further connection between the orisha and to the ocean. The Tidalectics style of dancing also resembled the sweeping motion of a broom, which Naña was said to perform using the Ibirí, to sweep away pestilence and disease. In the practice of Initiation into the practice of Naña Buruku, practitioners will wear long dresses, usually of the color blue or gold, and take corners of their dresses, and sway them back and forth, mimicking the action of sweeping a broom.
Throughout my research, discovering the existence of such an object has objected my mind to make many connections between a material object and the nature and personality of an incredibly wise and powerful deity. The Ibirí has allowed me to perceive the nature of an object far beyond just what materials, colors, and embellishments meet the eye. The Ibirí wand also allowed me to discover the existence of a foreign style of dancing I had never encountered before, and can be used to honor a deity who’s uniqueness and respectability is as diverse and eclectic as the object that she has carried since birth. The practice of Candomblé is one that can be perceived as radiant, diverse, and honorable as embodied in Naña Buruku. The Ibirí wand is an object that’s personality and backstory have transcended time itself and continues to live on in antiquity within the walls of the Fleming Museum, waiting their every day to meet all who are lucky to see it, and to teach them about itself and the history of a truly wise grandmother orisha.
Below are photo’s of both the wand itself and an Illustration of Naña Buruku

On September 26, I walked into the Spirited Things Exhibition at the Fleming Museum for an exclusive look at the unfinished exhibit. Greeting the class at the doorway was eshu-elegbara, an Orisa who specializes in spiritual communication. As the class was set free to roam, I moved past Eshu where a flash of tiger print caught my eye.  Looking at the object, front to back, I realized it was an outfit composed of a maroon shawl and a synthetic tiger print skirt. The shawl, which was separate strips of cloth woven together and decorated with cowry shells, had a shirt underneath which was also riddled with hundreds of cowry shells. There were so many shells stitched into the outfit that the wearer would likely experience a small party with each step, hundreds of jingling shells clacking together. As I looked closer at the outfit I noticed the mannequin had intricately woven braids as well. After this observation, I realized I had yet to look at the actual title of the artifact, it read “Attire of the Manifest God Ṣango.” This outfit is worn by those who been spiritually possessed by the Yoruba god Ṣango. I noticed in the reading that all devotees wear this outfit, and I wondered how this outfit contributed to spirit possession among those individuals. With this I began to investigate why the outfit worn by a bride was essential for spirit possession. In this essay I will provide background on Yoruba cultures and customs, and then explain how this outfit contributes to spirit possession.

Ṣango is the Yoruba god of thunder, who yields his Thunder Axe, Oshe, and now represents the powers of the Oyo kings. Glazier, author of “If Old Heads Could Talk” writes, ”Sango is the most powerful and the most feared Yoruba deity both in Africa and in the Diaspora.”  It is in his reputation that one can can really understand his power. Like previously mentioned, Ṣango takes many brides, as he manifests his soul in the body of his devotees. Miles Richardson, author of “Beyond Conversion and Syncretism”  illustrates that wives of Sango constantly bring about the áse and presence of the Orisa. This honors the god and creates an incentive for him to bless and protect those who worship him. However, hundreds of other Orisa are worshiped by Yoruba culture, particularly through the use of altars and different altar objects. These objects are set in a particular spacial arrangement which generates áse, the primordial life force residing within all beings.

Áse is essential to all Yoruba worship. It is áse that charges objects on an altar, giving them energy and turning them into more than just pieces of material. After objects are used in particular ways, áse can be generated and used to call spirits before those who have summoned them. Just as important as áse, are the physical objects on the altar which is being worshiped. Particular items can symbolize a broad range of different things, summoning and worshipping particular Orisa. Each object can be a particular offering to Orisa, for instance money or liquors are offerings which bring about áse and strive to enrich and nourish that Orisa.

Those who worship Sango specifically undergo spirit possession, where the soul or energy of a particular Orisa enters your body. Sango possession is a particular form of spirit possession where the bride can be either male or female. The term bride is gender inclusive of those devoted to Sango. Spirit possession in general has been typical of Yoruba culture since its origin and is a means of communication with the dead. It is in the crossover to a parallel reality where those undergoing possession can find solutions to problems, see future events, and communicate with their departed ancestors. It is a process that is deeply important, yet deeply hard to understand. In Yoruba culture they do not have the same notion that death means that person is completely gone, but spiritually transferred to a different world. It is through this world Yoruba people connect to the departed, keeping in touch with them, hopeful to return to their presence someday.

With this being said, the outfit worn by a bride of Sango must help link a devotee to the spirit of Sango himself. Previously stated, Yoruba culture primarily uses altars with many objects to bring about áse, which can summon different Orisa. However, in this worship there is no apparent altar. It was at this point in my research where I looked to a reading by Thompson where he states the altar of River goddess, Oṣun, is not a tangible altar, but instead the holy river she once touched. From this I could conclude that the body of a Sango devotee serves as the altar which calls to Sango. An altar does not have to be a physical structure, but anything decorated with objects to worship an Orisa.

If the body of a mount serves as the altar which worships Sango, then the outfit which they wear must consist of various artifacts which can summon the spirit of Sango. Glazier writes, “Sango devotees belief that illness and misfortune result from a lack of attention to the Orisa, and a belief that when properly attended to, will help them in their daily lives.” This serves as evidence to support why brides wear this outfit in relation to Sango. By wearing the outfit, brides are decorating their altars with power objects which bring about áse, summoning Sango to possess those who worship. From here, Sango can help them in their struggles. In the same article by Glazier, he states that devotees attempt to establish binding contracts with Sango by wearing this outfit, however Orisa are fluid and characterized by a large degree of uncertainty. It is by wearing this outfit brides try to solidify their commitment to Sango, constantly worshiping him throughout the day.

Each article of clothing represents something different, much like how individual altar objects represent different symbols as well. The synthetic tiger pelt worn by devotees represent Sango’s ferocity and power. The tiger is a jungle cat with a high social status on the food chain, Sango is similar to this in a lot of ways. He is a highly respected god, and resides high up in the Orisa hierarchy and shares the ferocity of a wild tiger. This pelt is used to symbolize those qualities on the altar, paying tribute to Sango’s strength.

Equally as important is the cowry covered shirt and shawl. First off, cowries were a form of West African currency. With this being said, the cowries are meant to enrich Sango with offerings of money. Also, the noise in which the shells make generate áse by the jingling they make. Often noise, particularly drums, are used in Yoruba ritual to bring about áse and coerce spirits to visit alters. The cowries can function as their own device, generating noise and drawing áse into the alter through movement and dance.

The braids worn by Sango brides are also an important object within the altar. The braids which mounts of Sango wear in their hair symbolizes their marriage to Sango. This style is called agogo and is taken very seriously, as different braiding patterns all symbolize different things. In Justine M. Cordwell’s “The Fabric of Culture,” he states “Devotees of Sango don’t shave their head after initiation…head shaving upon death marks passage from life and membership, to death and nonmembership.” This specific pattern of braiding is thus an altar object which broadcasts ones devotion to Sango and his worship.

By devotees wearing this particular outfit, they can create an altar on their bodies which invites Sango to possess them. The different elements of the costume embody Sango and draw áse to the body, inviting Sango to reside within his altar, the mount. By wearing the outfit the mount creates a particular spacial arrangement of objects, noises, and practices which act as any regular altar to draw Sango from the spirit world into the vesicle of the human body. With this being said, the outfit worn by a bride of Sango is meant to activate the presence of áse and call forth Sango to the human altar. The outfit is crucial in the physical spirit possession of a mount as it is the source of áse, the power which drives the ritual to success. From the hundreds of cowries, to the furious tiger pelt, each piece of the outfit serves as an altar symbol, an effort to communicate with Sango, the mighty god of thunder.

Bibliography of sources which research spirit possession among African Diaspora religions.

Cordwell, Justin M. The Fabric of Culture. Paris: Mouton Publishersn.d

I found this word using the library database, with keywords “Outfit of Sango’s Bride.” This source directly examines the clothing worn by different African cultures through an ethnographic lens. The portion I focused on was clothing worn by Sango devotees. This source illustrates the symbols behind the clothing worn by brides, in particular their styles of hair braiding.

This source is written by Corwell, in collaboration with other anthropologists. With this being said, the perspective is unbiased and aims to describe the different garments worn by different cultures.

Matory, J. L. Rival Empires: Islam and the Religions of Spirit Possession among the Ọ̀yọ́- Yorùbá. N.p.: Wiley on behalf of the American Anthropological Association, 1994.

I found this source using the keyword spirit possession within the Bailey Howe Library research database. This source directly examines spirit possession among Yoruba people, with a specific focus on possession among women. This source outlines motives behind possession, and how this helps to shape character and identity.

The source is written by Matory, an accomplished anthropologist. Matory writes strictly research based books where most of the information is from credible sources or first hand experience. With this being said, the information published is not biased it is ethnographic research aimed to published research regarding spirit possession within a broader religion.

Matory, J. L. Sex and the empire that is no more : gender and the politics of metaphor in Oyo Yoruba religion. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994.

This sources was recommended to me by Doctor Vicki Brennan, a professor at the University of Vermont. In this source Matory makes a case for the existence of “meta-tropes” of gender in Yoruba spirit possession, illustrating these practices are deeply embedded in Oyo politics. Matory explains possession within the social and political context of local government, as in the case of traditional Songo and Yemoja possession in Oyo Yoruba religion. While doing this Matory broadcasts a community’s negotiation of personal power and the metaphors of gender among priests and priestesses.

Matory Writes from a non biased view point, providing factual information with wise anecdotes and metaphors to help understand difficult ideas which are foreign to our culture. Matory writes and researches with the intention of understanding, therefore the information published is accurate not only factually, but to the culture being researched as well.

Richardson, Miles. Beyond Conversion and Syncretism: Indigenous Encounters with Missionary Christianity. N.p.: Berghahn Books, 2011.

Richardson’s book contained a lot of solid information regarding Sango Spirit possession. Richardson illustrates the role devotees play in spreading the áse of Sango. He writes about how being a devotee is a constant practice which takes avid worship. It is through this worship Richardson states Sango rewards his followers.

Richardson writes ethnographically, illustrating the mindset of the Yoruba people who worship Sango. His writing is unbiased and informative. The contents, specifically on pages 146-156, were useful in understanding how áse played a role in possession.

Thompson, Robert F. Face of The Gods. New York City: The Museum of African Arts, 1993.

I originally discovered this source from reading it for a homework assignment. This particular Thompson article illustrates the altar of Osun, making a point to say that the altar is not physically constructed, but instead a naturally occurring river. This helped my research because it enabled me to make the connection between the body being used as an altar in ritual despite not being a typical altar.

Thompson writes from a colorful, non biased perspective. He tells a story with his research rather than regurgitating facts. These stories are unbiased and factual and written for general audiences. With this being said, Thompson writes well, but clearly and concisely.

There is more than what meets the eye; an old saying that resonated through my head as I paid my first visit to the “Spirited Things” exhibit at the University of Vermont’s Fleming Museum. This exhibit features sacred artifacts sourced from ancient West African religion as well as the diasporic communities that resulted from the displacement of African peoples as early as the 16^th century. Pacing the Museum space, my eyes quickly shifted from object to object searching for popping hues and intricacy. Turning the corner to view the second half of the museum space, I spotted one particular encased object that stood alone.

Labeled “Staff of Fate” (Opa Osun), this artifact seemed to have a gravitating affect due to its isolated position in the context of the museum. Approaching the object, I realized that it contained many rusted limbs hinting at its archaic age. Reading the provided information for the staff I learned that it was composed of chiefly iron. The object appeared to have levels near the top and bottom that resembled disks. On the outer rim of these disks lie many small iron sculpted birds that face the stalk of the staff. Between both of these disks, a larger adorned bird is presented to face outwards. The very top of the staff contains a conical shape that is attached to a tray that leads down below the upper-disc. Adjacent to the tray lies 4 narrow rusted bells that are fastened to the object, and this is symmetrically represented below the lower-disc as well.

The object as a whole relays a sense of authoritative commandment to the viewer, and I began to think whether or not the artifact remained this way in an exhibition environment that lacked originality. In this essay, I will explore if the Opa Osun staff is interpreted as an object that retains the same rules and guidelines of handling it in the museum surroundings. By determining this I hope to explain the significance of such an artifact in present day culture.

Western Africa is home to ancient Yorubaland, a civilization where kingdoms once flourished in a framework of revolutionary urbanization (Okediji 1997). Within these kingdoms, artistic representations of sculpture containing highly refined naturalistic elements prospered and became a vital part of the religious traditions of the Yoruba (Drewal, Pemberton, & Abiodun 1989). Craftsmen became highly skilled in the creation of sculpture using metals such as copper, brass, and bronze as well during this time. The Opa Osun Staff is an example of the refined craftsmanship that characterizes the artistic creations of Yoruba people. A time that can be considered a period of enlightenment in West Africa ended with the 18^th and 19^th century slave trade dispersal, resulting in various diaspora in the New World. Forcefully relocated to a foreign frontier, Yoruba traditionalists brought the religious devotion that was engraved in their culture and implemented its practices to garner strength against the harsh regiment of their new lives. One aspect of culture that is particularly vital to devotion is the concept of ase. In terms of the cultural ideas that made their way from the heart of Yorubaland to the New World, ase is the most important phenomenon that survived the transatlantic journey (Abiodun 2014). The Yoruba understand ase to be a force of power in all living and nonliving things. Religious objects found in the “Spirited Things” exhibit, inhabit the concept of ase, which solidifies an entity’s connection to the higher power orisa, or spiritual divinities, in turn giving the object purpose (Abiodun 2014).

Staffs similar to the Opa Osun are ase potent tools used by priests in Yoruba culture for many different ceremonies and initiations (Abiodun 2014). One purpose of an iron staff is to establish the presence of ase in the context of religious ceremony, wielded vertically in the right hand of a priest (Abiodun 2014). The role of these staffs in ceremonial context, particularly the orientation of the staffs in a priest’s hand, offers insight to the question posited. This leads to the explanation of the specific Opa Osun Staff as an embodiment of a particular owner. Being that the staff is related to the fate of those who associate with it, it must never be placed in a horizontal manner, as this act would bring tremendous ill-will to those associated (Duke University 2015??). This fact accounts for the vertical orientation in the hands of a priest.

Staffs similar to the Opa Osun are also used to satisfy spiritual bodies known as orisa in Yoruba culture. In one particular case, a staff is used as a sacrificial stand for the placement of animal parts. In a ceremony known as Itefa, an official will dismember a cock and place the individual parts of its body on the staff as an offering to the orisa Osun (Drewal and Thompson 1989). The role of a staff similar to the Opa Osun in this fashion further attests the stark power of such an object. Whether or not this object preserves the power it has for the duration of its standing is in question still. ———————————————————————————–

Bibliography

Abiodun, Rowland. Yoruba Art and Language: Seeking the African in African Art. Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 2014. doi:10.1017/CBO9781107239074.

Drewal, Margaret Thompson, and Henry John Drewal. “An Ifa Diviner’s Shrine in

Ijebuland.” African Arts 16, no. 2 (1983): 61-100. doi:10.2307/3335852.

Drewal, Henry John & Pemberton, John, 1928- & Abiodun, Rowland & Wardwell, Allen

(1989). Yoruba : nine centuries of African art and thought. Center for African Art in

association with H.N. Abrams, New York

Okediji, Moyo. “Art of the Yoruba.” Art Institute of Chicago Museum Studies 23, no. 2 (1997):

165-98. doi:10.2307/4104382.

“Opa Osun, D027.” The Sacred Arts of the Black Atlantic. Accessed October 30, 2017.

http://sacredart.caaar.duke.edu/.

Opa Osun. 2015. The Sacred Arts of the Black Atlantic, Duke University, Durham.

Thompson, Robert Farris. Face of the gods: the artists and their altars. 1st ed. Vol. 28. Museum

for African Art, 1993.

Jamie Bottino

Noah Stommel

In a corner dedicated to gender representation in Yoruba religion at the Fleming Museum’s Spirited Things exhibit, alone sits a highly decorative Cuban Santeria soup tureen dedicated to the goddess Obba. Legend has it that this Orisha, the goddess of domestic duty and marriage, was tricked by her co-wife to Shango, the Orisha of thunder, to cut off her ear and serve it to him in a stew to win his affection (De La Torre 2004, 83). The soup tureen as an object of worship therefore seems ironically fitting. From an aesthetic standpoint, the tureen appears to be made out of a shiny ceramic material, and is painted bright pink. Both side handles and the single handle on the lid are embellished with gold paint. All around the tureen, strings of threaded golden beads adorn the sides. On opposing sides, as well as around the top handle, there are stars formed from cowrie shells. At the center of the stars on the side lie even more threaded beads.

Cuban Santeria is a religion syncretized between Catholicism brought to Cuba by Spanish colonists, and African-diasporic religion, introduced to the island through the African slave trade (Clark 2001, 21-22). The use of the soup tureen in Santeria has adapted from its origins in West Africa due to the influence of this religious syncretism, which is the fusing of religions to form a new one. However, through further examination of this tureen, it becomes apparent that its use is more so influenced by Yoruba-derived practices than by Catholicism.

The Catholic and Yoruba influences that both play at shaping this object’s purpose and activation methods was what fully captured my interest in this object. I believe that due to cultural mixing on the island of Cuba, there is much to be understood about the true purpose and meaning behind such a soup tureen. The fact that this artifact was standing alone in the museum drew me in further. Obba’s tureen was placed closely to the Santeria birthday altar, which includes several soup tureens or “soperas” richly decorated with objects that invoke the presence of other Orishas, or goddesses in Yoruba religion. Crucial factors of this altar are elevation of the soperas as well as color and the use of other objects with symbolic meaning. Obba’s tureen had a contrasting lack of context. Simply sitting in a display case, I wanted to learn more about the potential for forces to be activated within it, stimulating the presence of Obba, and fulfilling its use as a ritualistic object. In my essay, I will first explain the origins of such an object as seen in West Africa, the homeland of Yoruba religion. Then I will go into depth on how Yoruba religion has combined Catholic traditions to form the practices we see in relation to this object in Cuban Santeria today. Ultimately, I hope to prove that although Catholicism does play a role in Santeria, Yoruba continues to play the chief role in the religion and the use of its religious objects.

On their forced journey across the Atlantic, Yoruba people encountered a huge change in setting that required their religion to adapt. This adaptation meant that although much of the basis of the religion stayed the same, certain rituals had to be altered to better fit the new environment. This theory applies to Obba’s soup tureen, not just with the exterior aesthetic, but also with what lies within; consecrated shells or stones. The tureen’s Yoruba counterpart, known as the “nganga,” is a type of cauldron, much larger than Obba’s tureen, in which a consecrated stone is placed (Martin & Luis 2012 161-164). While both tureens (or soperas) and ngangas contain stones, they differ in that ngangas may also contain animals, sticks, and dirt, while tureens will, in addition to the stones, contain herbs and animal blood (Martin & Luis 2012, 164). This parallel seen between Santeria and Catholicism is a prime example of European influence in Cuba. The significance of these stones is that they “represent the living presence of the Orisha on the Santeria altar. Like the consecrated host that Catholic doctrine deems the actual body of Christ, these ‘stones’ are the Orisha” (Clark 2001, 37). However, while we see Catholicism showing its influence over the contents of the tureen, the overall purpose and idea of spirit activation associated with such an object is still largely a product of Yoruba religion (Bascom 1950, 66-67). Furthermore, it is important to note the orientation of Santeria around African-inspired Orisha (Bascom 1950, 64), and not one central Christian God. The fact that Yoruba customs live on in Santeria, despite competing Catholic contribution, indicates the preservation of native African culture.

Further important to Santeria are palm nuts, cowrie shells, and water. This can therefore account for aspects of the decorum present on the outside of the tureen. These elemental factors, in combination with herbs, blood, and stones breathe a life force, known to Yoruba practitioners as “Ase,” into the tureen, which is necessary both for life and for performing religious rituals (Brown 79). Allowing an Orisha to manifest itself on Earth requires a container, or vessel, in which it can reside. Human bodies and drums can also serve as a vessel for Orisha habitation (“Chango ‘ta vein’” 2012, 79-80). Given the relevance of food to activating the presence of Orisha, soup tureens seem a rather appropriate object.

The color scheme of Obba’s soup tureen is explained as being highly dependent on the individual beliefs that Santeria practitioners have on the color preferences of the Orishas themselves. One practitioner explained that for her, “Obba wears yellow and white beads for no other reason that ‘that’s the way I received it’” (Brown 1996, 99). Granted that there are some guidelines to color representation of the Orisha, this is a mentality held greatly by Yoruba practitioners, for whom there is not a particularly dictating religious code of worship that must be followed (Brown 1996, 100), as is in the case of religions such as Christianity.

Another explanation for why there may be discrepancies and similarities in Yoruba and Catholic rituals associated with Obba’s tureen is that throughout the colonial era, there were many instances of Santeria being oppressed by the dominant European society. This theme is seen “everywhere across the early black Americas [because] covert altars encoded the richness of sacred memory to unite servitors in sustaining faiths” (Thompson 1993, 21). By veiling one’s religious practices behind a Catholic pretense, Santeria worshippers were able to preserve their rituals and beliefs, even while under the watchful eyes of the Catholic Church.

Some scholars on African-diasporic religions argue that there is a scholarly bias for classifying Santeria as a byproduct of Catholic syncretism. They state that “the origin of this religion is in the forests of the country previously called Yorubaland, better known today as Nigeria. From there comes what we today know as Santeria” (Fardon 1995, 83). Adding to this belief is the fact that “Spanish law insisted that slaves be baptized as Roman Catholics as a condition of their legal entry into the Indies” (Santeria 1988, 27). The forceful integration of Yoruba people in a Catholic-dominated society, although influential on the resultant Santeria, would not have created the desire to assume the practices and values held by oppressors. It is more plausible to argue that “Caribbean religions such as Santeria… are often cited as examples of syncretism because the religions involved have such different histories and because the historical materials about them are relatively recent and full” (Santeria 1988, 120). There is no avoiding the fact that Catholicism and Yoruba religion mixed to produce Santeria, but it is reasonable to suggest that given the belief systems held by a vast majority of those enslaved in Cuba, an emphasis on Yoruba religion was preserved in the island’s Afro-Caribbean culture.

As I came to learn through my research of Obba’s tureen, there is a definite degree to which syncretism of Catholicism and Yoruba religion has had on the overall use of the object, as well as Santeria itself. However, I would assert that there is still more of a Yoruba emphasis in the aesthetics of religious objects, an essential counterpart of the greater religion. Through information provided on how Yoruba beliefs maintained a tight grip over incoming slaves transported from Africa, and how European-enforced Catholicism influenced Santeria practice, the predominant influences on modern usage of Obba’s soup tureen have become clearer. This syncretized religion shows its true colors in both the objects that it so highly regards in worshipping Orishas, and in aspects of the theological belief system. I believe that this trend of hybridity makes itself apparent not only in Santeria, but in all other New World African religions, or on a larger scale, any religion whose followers have undergone voluntary or forced cultural coalescence.

Now that I have come to understand the context of the animation and aesthetics of the tureen, I am more interested than ever to witness the process of stone consecration and the subsequent activation of Obba. When first viewing this object, my interest was sparked by its placement in the museum, relatively isolated from others that serve a similar purpose. I believe that this therefore served as a basis to learn more about other objects of its like, and the human history that has forced its adaptation.

Bibliography

Bascom, William R. “The Focus of Cuban Santeria.” Southwestern Journal of  Anthropology 6, no. 1 (1950): 64-68.

Brown, David H. “Toward an Ethnoaesthetics of Santeria Ritual Art: The Practice of Altar-Making and Gift Exchange.” Santeria Aesthetics in Contemporary Latin American Art (1996).

Clark, Mary A. “”¡No Hay Ningún Santo Aqui!” (There Are No Saints Here!): Symbolic Language Within Santeria.” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 69, no. 1 (2001): 21-41.

De La Torre, Miguel A. Santeria: The Beliefs and Rituals of a Growing Religion in      America. Grand Rapids & Cambridge: William B. Eerdmans Publishing       Company, 2004.

Fardon, Richard, ed. Counterworks: Managing the Diversity of Knowledge. New York: Routledge, 1995.

Martin, Oba F., and William Luis. “Palo and Paleros: An Interview With Oba Frank Martin.” Afro-Hispanic Review 31, no. 1 (2012): 159-68.

Murphy, Joseph M. “Chango ‘ta vein’/ Chango has come”: Spiritual Embodiment in the     Afro-Cuban Ceremony, Bembé.” Black Music Research Journal 32, no. 1 (2012): 69-94.

Murphy, Joseph M. Santeria: An African Religion in America. Boston: Beacon Press, 1988.

Thompson, Robert F. “Overture: The Concept “Altar”.” Face of the Gods: Art and Altars of Africa and the African Americas (1993).

Walking through “Spirited Things” exhibition in the Flemming museum, one object in particular caught my eye. It was a small column with rings of red beads and grey putty. As I approached it, I learned it was called the “Beaded Thunderstone for God Changó Macho”. Examining it closely, I noticed how its base was a stone, and that the beads and putty were made around it. Next I looked at how the putty had gems pushed into it, and that there was figure in the center that began on a ring of putty and eclipsed through a band of red beads. This body sat with its legs crossed wearing red and gold pants. It had a small gold garment cloaked around his top, with a green gem on the chest, and a red one on the stomach. Finally, above this figure’s head was a plastic eye, and just above that was small crystal, sticking out of the top of the stone. After observing it, I thought about what its purpose was. More specifically, why would anyone decorate a rock so beautifully, not for the purpose of art? In this essay, I will examine the meaning of the Thunderstone, and how this meaning ties into the African Diaspora.

First of all, the African Diaspora is the culture from the Yoruba people in Africa that has been scattered through the americas predominantly through the slave trade. Along with being forced across the ocean, the Africans were forced to adapt their religion because slave owners wouldn’t allow them to practice it. Each different region of slaves adapted differently, creating a variety beliefs that root from the original Yoruba religion. In the Brazil, the slaves were forced to adapt, and Santería emerged as their religion. Santería is the fusion between Christianity and the religion of the Yoruba people. The god or orişa Changó is a major god in both the Santería and Yoruba religion. He is the god of lightning and thunder and is very powerful and fierce. In Santería, he was represented as Santa Barbara because she had the same colors as Changó and was thought to be in many ways like the god himself.

The first aspect of the Thunderstone that I wanted to look into, was its purpose. I wanted to know what its function was in the life of those who used it. After researching this question, I found that “Changó’s sacred thunderstones are stored in a ‘batea’ (wooden vessel) on top of a ‘pílon’ (upturned mortar)” (Ayorinde 2004, 212). In learning this, I figured out that the Thunderstones were most likely used as holy objects on altars.

In the original Yoruba religion from Africa, altars were set up by individuals to connect with the orişa that the altar is dedicated to. There is no one way to set up an altar according to the religion, but rather each altar contains objects significant to both the orişa and the individual making the altar. The altar by itself does not have any spiritual connection to the gods until it is activated in ritual. The rituals contain song and dance at the which empowers it with spiritual energy of Ashé, which is believed to flow through all living things in the Yoruba religion. Once the altar has been activated, the practitioner is then spiritually connected to the god and can even communicate with the orişa. During the slave trade, Santería would still have altars, but they would be disguised for Christian saints, but overtime the need to worship in secrecy has been diminished.

Since the thunderstone belonged on an altar, it must have been significant to Changó. With my previous knowledge, I knew that Changó was the god of lightning and that he was huge in war, and manly power. I was curious about why the thunderstone was significant to Changó. Going deeper in research, I found that the thunderstones were significant because it resembled Changó. The thunderstone is symbolic of Changó because its “(a) tough to crack; (b) a rigid frame not easily disintegrated by reality; (c) highly adaptable; (d) and sanctity/morality/truth, or re-affirmed action of the social order”(Lawuyi 1988, 136). Each of these reasons connect the physical aspects of the rock to the characteristics of Changó. For example, the rock itself is tough to crack, but that does not mean Changó is made of steel. Changó’s personality and honor is what does not crack. These aspects of the thunderstone that relate to Changó give insight to the beliefs of the practitioners and what values of their god that are important to them.

The thunderstone is a sacred object used on altar for Changó, because it resembles and is significant of Changó. This is the specific purpose of the thunderstone to the god Changó, but I am also interested in the general purpose of thunderstone as it plays a part in ritual along with the religion. In order to dissect the general purpose of the thunderstone, I examined altars as a whole. As stated previously, the objects on altars are supposed to be significant to the god the altar is devoted to, and the individual. Since practitioner is worshipping the god, what is important to the god should be what is important to the individual. In realizing this, I see now that altars are how the practitioners interpret the gods, and that the objects on the altar represent the values that the practitioner worships in the god.

As I considered this idea, I thought about other places in the religion where notions similar to this one come up. As I looked into it, I saw that the syncretization of Changó shows what values of the god was important to the slaves. Instead of representing Changó as a strong male saint, they chose Santa Barbara. The tough and fierce persona of Santa Barbara along with correlation of personal taste(color preference) show how the saint and the god both represent similar values to those that had to adapt the religion. It is also important to note that the misconceptions of men being greater than women was pretty much non-existent among the Yoruba at the time of the slave trade, because men and women both had equally important roles in the religion(Castillo and Mederos 2007, 151-157). This shows that gender was not an important value to the people of both Santería and Yoruba.

Through analysing both the general and specific purpose of Changó’s a better understanding of how each part of the religion connects to each other can be drawn out. The altar holds all these items which represent the god to the individual. Collectively, the altar is the is the god in the sense that it has all that values and representations of the orişa, but without life. Then it is up to the individual to bring life into the altar with song and dance, and bring life into the god that they are worshipping.

In conclusion, the purpose of the thunderstone is that it is a sacred object for an altar. By analysing this purpose, so much more information about Changó and Santería can be drawn out. The reason the thunderstone is a sacred object to Changó is because physical properties of the thunderstone represent the spiritual values of Changó. These values are then interpreted by the individual and worshipped in the form of an altar, specific to the practitioner. The accumulation of the symbolic objects along with the activation of the altar bring life to the values, turning the altar into a spiritual form of the god.

Bibliography:

Ayorinde, Christine. 2004. “Santería in Cuba: Tradition and Transformation.” In The Yoruba Diaspora in the Atlantic World edited by Toyin Falola and Matt D. Childs, pp. 209-225. Indiana University Press, 2004.

Castillo, Daisy R., and Mederos, Aníbal A. 2007. “Lo femenino y lo masculino en la Regla Congo o Palo Monte”. In Afro-Hispanic Review, Vol. 26, No. 1, African Religions in the New World, pp. 151-157. William Luis, 2007. http://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/23055254.pdf?refreqid=excelsior%3A4746fbd7dea826834c3b56455f085daa.

Lawuyi, Olatunde B. 1988. “Ogun: Diffusion across Boundaries and Identity Constructions.”African Studies Review Vol. 31, No. 2 (Sep., 1988):pp.127-139, http://www.jstor.org/stable/524422?Search=yes&resultItemClick=true&searchText=((thunderstone)&searchText=AND&searchText=(shango))&searchUri=%2Faction%2FdoBasicSearch%3FQuery%3D%2528%2528thunderstone%2529%2BAND%2B%2528shango%2529%2529&refreqid=search%3A8cc1dc2eadc54a0d174b8cc014501bfb&seq=10#page_scan_tab_contents.