Dances of Haiti 0934934177, 0934934118

Citation preview

.

.....

..

.

ISBN O-93L93L-17-7 ISBNO-93143L- 2 2-8 (PBK) A woman possessed balances herself on the poteau mitan, a center post built in the middle of the tonnelle. The vodun are believed to make their entrance into the dancing space down the poteau mitan.

An interlude between possessions.

All dance activity focuses on the drum, and drummers are indispensable at all ceremonies. They must know all the distinct rhythms that call the gods.

DANCES

OF HAITI

by Katherine Dunham

This is the first U.S. edition of the renowned dancer and anthropologist’s study of the dance and ritual of Haiti. “(Katherine Dunham’s]

penetration into the

life and local customs of the country was doubly facilitated by her common origin with

the inhabitants and by her theoretical and practical knowledge of aspects of dance. To the dignitaries of the vaudun who were to become her informants, she was both a colleague, capable of comprehending and assimi-

lating the subtleties of a complex ritual, and a stray soul who had to be brought back into the fold of the traditional cult; . . . In addition to these somewhat personal advantages, her book has the great merit of reintegrating the social act of dance, which serves as her central theme, within a total complex . . . not only to

study a ritual but also to define the role of dance in the life of a society.” Claude Lévi-Strauss, in his Foreword, translated from the French edition, Les Danses de Haiti.

Dances

of Haiti

Banners must be at hand to salute the dieties. more violent stages of her possession.

Here the banner is needed to bring the hounci out of the

DANCES OIF HAITI Katherine Dunham Photographs by Patricia Cummings

Center

for Afro-American

Studies

University of California, Los Angeles

Copyright © 1983 by The Regents of the University of California and Katherine Dunham Photographs © 1983 by Patricia Cummings All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America Vévé motifs are reproduced by permission of the publisher from Milo Rigaud, Ve-Ve: Diagrammes Rituels du Voudou, Trilingual ed. (New York: French and European Publications, Inc., 1974). Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Dunham, Katherine. Dances

of Haiti.

(A CAAS special publication) Revision of the author’s thesis. Includes bibliographical references. 1. Dancing—Haiti. 2. Voodooism—Haiti. 3. Dancing—Social aspects—Haiti. 4. Folk dancing—Social aspects—Haiti. I. Title. II. Series. GV 1632.H2D86 1983 793.3°19729°4 83-14328 ISBN 0-934934-17-7 ISBN 0-934934-11-8 (pbk.) The present work is a revised edition of earlier versions: “Las Danzas de Haiti,” Acta Anthropologica II:4 (1947, Mexico; in Spanish and English) Les Danses de Haiti (Paris: Fasquel Press, 1957) Designed by Serena Sharp Produced by UCLA Publication Services Department

To René Piquion, who helped me to know and love Haiti.

A

Center for Afro-American Studies

University of California, Los Angeles

Publications Committee

Margaret Washington Creel Baruch Elimelich

Pierre-Michel Fontaine Romey Keys Lewis Langness

Claudia Mitchell-Kernan Richard Yarborough

A CAAS

Special Publication

Contents Preface

ix

Foreword to the French Edition xv Claude Lévi-Strauss (translated by Jeanelle Stovall) Introduction

xix

1.

The Island of Haiti

2.

The Vodun

3.

The Dances: Their Divisions

4.

Material Aspects

5.

Organization of Dance Groups

6.

Functions of the Dances

7.

Interrelation of Form and Function

Notes Glossary

65 6/

1

5 9

13 27

41 59

Preface IN 1947 the Bellas Artes Press of Mexico City published a volume of Acta Anthropologica devoted to my monograph “Las Danzas de Haiti,” in Spanish and English. This work was largely completed in 1937 while I was in the West Indies as a research fellow in dance

and

anthropology,

financed

by the Julius Rosenwald

Foundation.

My

back-

ground in social anthropology was from the University of Chicago; and on the advice of such seasoned researchers as Bronislaw Malinowski, Franz Boas, Margaret Mead, A.R. Radcliffe-Brown, and Robert Redfield, my mentor was to be Melville J. Herskovits of Northwestern University. I attended classes at Northwestern under Herskovits to

gain special preparation in an area well known to him; his scholarship in West African culture was also of great help to me. In 1957, Fasquel Press of Paris published the French edition, Les Danses de Haiti, with a foreword by Claude Lévi-Strauss. My return voyages to Haiti have been many in these years between, and for many

reasons—sometimes for rest from strenuous touring, sometimes as a landowner developing the property known as Habitation Leclerc, and one time to perform. During one vacation period I finished A Touch of Innocence (New York: Harcourt-Brace, 1959, 1969),

a book about the first eighteen years of my life. In another, I opened a medical clinic for the neighboring community. Although I have recalled my Haitian years from 1935 onward in Island Possessed (New York: Doubleday,

1970) and in numerous lectures and articles, the full content of

the vodun (vaudun, vodu, voodoo, voudú) escapes me. In spite of three baptisms of lesser importance and one of major importance (my induction to mambo-asegue, the highest

1X

X

Preface

degree of the Rada-Dahomey cult), I have never been able to claim truthfully a knowledge of the vodun. How | arrived at this final stage is mysterious even to me, although I studied the use of the sacred rattle and bell (asson and cloche) for two months, attended the packaging of the powerful Congo Pétro paquettes (doll-like, round-bellied figures full of many magic and spiritual powers), and spent seven days and nights couchée (flat) on a leaf-covered dirt floor at the foot of the altar of one of the most powerful Arada Pétro gods, Erzulie Dantor. Arising for the formality of the secret baptism, I was led to the gates of the peristyle under white sheets carried by hounci in white, danced with my “father” and his “father” to prove my knowledge of prescribed steps, and above all passed the formidable tests of the positions of the rattle and bell; after all of this and another week of seclusion and instruction in the house of my “father,” which included the removing of very special and very sacred objects from my bound head and a head-washing by my “mother, I cannot yet feel that I know the vodun. My

previous two baptisms were of lavé-téte (head-washing to remove my former,

unclean, or uninitiated self from my head, leaving it free to retain properties inducted during the ceremony or to receive the loa, or gods, without physical danger to myself). And the following initiation was that of kanzo, trial by fire, giving me the right to carry the asson but not to know its secrets. These—in addition to visiting and being responsible for numerous ceremonies and baptémes, reading books by responsible authors, broadening my base of religious and cult concepts, selecting, eliminating, and adding informants—represent most of my furtherance of knowledge in the vodun. I might add that a great deal of reflection while on the island itself has helped. Not only have my own knowledge and concepts broadened in these years between, but the vodun itself has changed in as many facets as its spelling. One example is the

Preface

xi

proliferation of gods since my 1936 lavé-téte, which the mambos Degrasse and Teoline performed in their hounfor in the Plains of Cul-de-Sac. These additions seem to have been of gods associated with the malevolent and violent rather than with the benevolent cults, bearing out one of my theories that stress and economic and social deprivation foster negative cults and malevolent secret societies. Also, when my first monograph was written, my concentration was on vodun in the provinces, particularly in Croix-desBouquets, Croix-des-Missions, and the northern Nan Campeche, a vodun retreat near Cap Haitien. At that time I attended parties, feasts, and ceremonies in and around Port-au-Prince, as in Des Cayettes, where I often danced the Congo Paillette or Congo Fran. Later, as owner of the property Leclerc I was obliged, not only because of a continued scientific interest in the dancing but also because of a promise made on my first field trip, to hold ceremonies for various gods as indicated by my godmother Kam from Port-de-Paix or the mambo Exumie on our own property. But I forbade the sacrifices of living animals, which finally alienated even the friendliest of gods. Since becoming a mambo, I confess I am puzzled as to how to proceed on the matter of living sacrifice. One cannot be a mambo-asegue, of the highest order, without drinking rum or clarin if the gods happen to be thirsty, or without assisting at an animal sacrifice and eating sacrificial food. So much for that. The format of the original monograph remains viable, and by concentrating more on the capital city than on the provinces I have been able to compare notes enlarged not only by time but also by area. Gods are created from important persons who manifest themselves after death; at the will of a powerful houngan or mambo or simply by introducing themselves at ceremonies. | am not aware of new dances, but I am very conscious of the urbanization of older ones. To hold ceremonies at our residence at Leclerc,

xii

Preface

I am periodically obliged to give refresher dance lessons at our peristyle. Only the older hounci appreciate the subtle changes that have taken place in the dances over the years. To satisfy the growing interest of tourists in delving into the mysteries of the vodun, numbers of charlatan “priests” have set up shop, as it were, in Port-au-Prince and its environs. Lavé-téte ceremonies that should take three days are often accomplished in a few hours, seldom overnight, and cost from $100 to $1,500. A kind of synthetic boulézin (trial by fire) might require two days and more animal sacrifices. The houngans most in demand may charge from $2,500 to $5,000 for a grand display of sacrificial animals and other foods and may ‘‘coucher,” or put to bed, their clients in the inner temple for two or three days. This would be to “graduate” as houngan or mambo. There are still, however, some hounfors that do not yield to tourist demands and

that follow the old tradition of my first initiation: three days for lavé-téte, nine days for kanzo or boulé-zin, and up to forty-one days for a complete mambo or houngan initiation. For the latter, one is not couché the entire time but must be available for instruction and

special services. One must know the language of the asson and bell, of sacred objects and paraphernalia, and of special songs and litanies. One must also have seen the devil and have visited the tomb of Baron Cimetiére at midnight. Here at Southern Illinois University in East St. Louis, I instituted a course for senior year and graduate credit in dance anthropology. I would like to express my appreciation to Jeanelle Stovall, for her assistance in making the audiovisual and academic requirements of this course easier for me, and to Dr. Joyce Aschenbrenner, who helped gain accreditation for it in the Anthropology Department of the Edwardsville campus. (Dr. Aschenbrenner became interested enough in these courses to follow field work in Haiti on her own.)

Preface

xiii

This manuscript was brought to the attention of the UCLA Center for Afro-American Studies (CAAS)

by Professor Robert A. Hill, who

at that time served as series

editor for the Center’s publication program. I had met Professor Hill at a meeting of the Institute of the Black World in Atlanta. Later, he and William Strickland came to East

St. Louis to address a meeting of young militants, businessmen, and students of the two campuses of Southern Illinois University—Edwardsville and East St. Louis. Since then Professor Hill has visited our Residence in Haiti and expressed a great interest in the comparison of dances there with others of the Caribbean. Professor Pierre-Michel Fontaine, a Haitian himself and

a member of the Center’s editorial committee, Mrs. Edesse

Fontaine, and CAAS managing editor Marcelle Fortier have been helpful in providing a consistent spelling of Creole and the gallicized or phonetic forms of the Haitian terms in the text and glossary. Dr. Vèvè Clark, administrator of the Dunham

Archives, was of invaluable assis-

tance in a revision of the original manuscript. Credit should also be given to Jeanelle Stovall for her translation of Claude Lévi-Strauss’s foreword from French to English

and for her editorial assistance in preparing the final copy; and to Patricia Cummings for her striking photographs. Miss Cummings visited me at the Residence Katherine Dunham at the end of one of her several visits to Haiti. I was immediately impressed by the quality of her photographs and by her ability to reach people on any social or professional level. Her one-to-one relationship with the Haitian peasant and vodun practitioner gave her access to many scenes inaccessible to the average tourist. Further experiences of mine in the vodun of Haiti may be found in Island Possessed and in published articles mentioned in the notes. I can only say, these many years later, that the book can still be considered a primer of cult studies stressing dance. My most

XIV

Preface

recent studies and observations leave me with the realization that I might have gone further, but perhaps the path for many an aspiring dancer or field worker has been opened by this work. I hope that its publication in this country will be a valuable gift to both dancers and anthropologists. Katherine Dunham

Southern Illinois University East St. Louis, Illinois

Foreword THE

to the French Edition

French translation of Dances of Haiti by Katherine Dunham

is indeed timely;

it enhances measurably the existing public image of this artist. Katherine Dunham appears herein not only as a dancer and choreographer but also as a solidly trained specialist holding advanced degrees from the University of Chicago and Northwestern

University—major institutions that have long made their authority felt in the fields of observation, analysis, and ethnographic theory. This short study, presented now to the French reader, provides an exemplary work of clarity and substance. Further, Haiti and Haitian subjects are the order of the day. Within a few short years we have had revealed to us, first, the literature of Haiti through the writings of the late Jacques Roumain, the Thoby-Marcelin brothers, and many others, then a surge of

extraordinary primitive painting, which burst forth suddenly with an intense and lyric vitality from the brushes of men, often illiterate, to whom the very concept of painting— and certainly its accessories—has been a complete novelty. Undoubtedly this was to be

expected (since it has long held the attention of excellent specialists); but perhaps with more

acuity these artistic works

have shown

how a

culture, doubly

transplanted (a

culture transported from Africa onto American soil, imbued in its new dwelling place with a religion and philosophy originating in Europe, especially in France) has proven

capable of retaining its cohesive force while gaining freedom through the existence and vitality of its beliefs and rites.

In the large periodic table of human societies, Haiti could therefore not miss appearing as a social molecule whose small dimensions retained remarkable proprieties, a XV

Xvi

Foreword

molecule formed, it would seem, of atoms capable of releasing exceptional quantities of energy. This fact alone should justify the impassioned attention devoted increasingly by sociologists and ethnographers to the Haitian society. An unquestionable originality marks Katherine Dunham’s book among all these works. Her penetration into the life and local customs of the country was doubly facilitated by her common origin with the inhabitants and by her theoretical and practical knowledge of aspects of dance. To the dignataries of the vaudun who were to become her informants, she was both a colleague, capable of comprehending and assimilating the subtleties of a complex ritual, and a stray soul who had to be brought back into the fold of the traditional cult; for the flocks of slaves lost on the large continent to the North had forgotten how to practice and had lost the spiritual benefits. These two reasons placed the researcher in a favored position. In addition to these somewhat personal advantages, her book has the great merit of reintegrating the social act of dance, which serves as her central theme, within a total complex. Katherine Dunham proposed not only to study a ritual but also to define the role of dance in the life of a society. Her study is based, therefore, on a triple system of references: the opposite and complementary aspects of the sacred and the secular; the interrelated physiological and psychological aspects of dance from the individual’s point of view; and the dual psychosociological nature of a dance form that, even in its most individualistic manifestations (I refer here to the phenomena

of possession), validates

“conventional behavior,” and follows “established patterns.” In the face of behavioral manifestations that could be viewed as an arbitrary release of instinct, a derangement of the mind, or an outbreak of the unconscious, the author reasonably refuses to envisage anything other than purely “symbolic and representative” workings, whose main (if not

exclusive) role is that of “confirming the realities of cult affirmation.” This approach

Foreword

xvil

contributes importantly to the study of relationships between sociology and psychopathology. Phenomena exist in our own society that could happen only through deception or under the guise of apparent mental derangement; and yet these same phenomena, placed within another sociological context, could be factors of collective cohesion

and spiritual enrichment. This fact provokes serious thought about certain restrictions placed on our civilization during its development which are perhaps the price unconsciously paid for deriving other advantages. The mass confusion of the twentieth century, expressed partially by this growing vogue of ethnographic research, is that we no longer can discern very well these advantages or their value. We have some vague aspirations, certainly not to an exchange of situations granting us the fate of other groups (because we know the high price they pay in the form of exploitation, physical poverty, and malnutrition), but at least to a new “deal” that would allow us to reshuffle and alter the positions of the card game; it is not even certain that this is possible. But precisely because the Haitian culture is a syncretism, it provides a privileged field of study for observing those phenomena of collaboration among different traditions; herein lie the only hope for a better and freer life for these peoples long humiliated and the one possibility for the others to discover a vaster and more complete humanity. In short, such a collaboration could give rise to a new humanism. Mankind would not be limited, as in the Renaissance period, to a mere fraternization of the most exceptional minds in solely intellectual pursuit but would be united in the common enjoyment of the material resources still denied to some and of spiritual wealth still possible for others to rediscover with the guidance of their brothers. Claude Lévi-Strauss English translation by Jeanelle Stovall from Katherine Dunham, Les Danses de Haiti (Paris: Fasquel Press,

1957).

Introduction IN A CONSIDERATION

of the dances of the island of Haiti, accounts of early

voyagers contain quantities of useful descriptive material from which it may be con-

cluded that both the form and the function of these dances have remained relatively constant during the two centuries since the earliest records. Excepting for differences of name and perhaps for slight alterations in ritual significance, the dances of peasant Haiti today might well be those of slave Haiti in the seventeenth century. Accounts by such historians as Le Père Labat, Pierre de Vaissière, Peytraud, and Moreau de St. Méry

furnish us with detailed descriptions of the dances of the natives, though little can be said for their analyses of the social and psychological importance of these dances. These early historians, however, did recognize the dance as being part of the culture of the transplanted African and in some way vital to the well-being of the slave community, at least from a recreational standpoint. The value of these early accounts rests chiefly in

their descriptive material and in their furnishing of a set of names with which to begin investigation. The names, indeed, have changed very little in the past two centuries,

and in some cases the actual choreography as reported can be observed today. In function and in psychological and sociological import, however, there is change even within one generation as acculturation takes place. Herein lies the real problem of the field analyst, not in the mere record of form. In many instances, tribal and geographic provenience can be estimated by the complex surrounding dance and music. According to early accounts, there existed a rather clear-cut differentiation among the various colonists—Dutch, Spanish, French, English, XIX

XX

Introduction

and Portuguese—as to which tribes provided the source of slave trade; and it is still possible in the West Indies to find linguistic and cultural evidence of these various sources. Thus far the dance complex has fortunately resisted strongly the impact of European culture, and today the same dance forms and patterns of rhythm recorded more than two centuries ago can be observed in the islands of the Caribbean. The redoutes or biweekly gatherings for gens de couleur described by Moreau de St. Méry! have a present-day counterpart in the haute-taille of the country areas of Martinique and the public balls of the Boule Blanche or Palais Schoelcher in Fort-de-France.? The Don Pedro of Moreau de St. Méry is currently in Haiti the signature dance of the Pétro cult. Moreau de St. Méry, himself a native of Martinique, seems to have cultivated during his Parisian education a taste for the theater and a curiosity about and interest in the archeology and ethnology of those lands he visited during his extensive voyages. As distinct from the vaudoux or vaudun (vodun), he describes the Don Pedro as follows: The Vaudoux is nothing compared to the Don Pedro or Danse a Don Pedro, another Negro dance, also known in the western part of Santo Domingo, since 1768. Don Pedro was the name of a Negro of the Petit-Goave section, of Spanish origin, who, by his daring character and certain superstitious practices, had acquired, among the Negroes, enough influence to be denounced by the government as the instigator of some alarming plots. The dance which bears his name consists, like the Vaudoux, in the shaking of the shoulders and the head, but this shaking is extremely violent, and to increase it still further, the Negroes drink, while dancing, brandy in which they have mixed finely ground gunpowder. The effect of this drink, hastened and augmented by their move-

Introduction

xxi

ments, has such a strong influence that they fall into a veritable fury, into actual convulsions; they dance with the most horrible contortions, until finally they fall into a sort of epilepsy, in which state they seem in imminent danger of death. It has been necessary to absolutely forbid Don Pedro, because it caused great disorder and awakened ideas contrary to the public peace. Whether it is a contagious influence, or electrical effect, even the spectators participate in this intoxication, and instead of ceasing their chanting when they see frenzy coming on, they re-double the strength of their voices, hasten the rhythm, and accelerate the crises while participating in it to a certain extent. How strange is man! In what excesses he seeks pleasure!? The names chica, bamba, kalenda, bamboula, congo, meringue, banda, juba, to name

only a few, are as familiar now as they were in the literature of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. A kalenda I witnessed near Congo Village outside Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, in November 1937, might have been taken bodily from this same period, except for the musical accompaniment. When the Negroes want to dance, they take two drums, that is, two hollow logs, of unequal length, with one end open, while the other is covered with sheepskin. These drums (of which the smaller is called bamboula, because it is sometimes made of a very thick bamboo which has been scooped out) resound under blows of the wrist and movements of the fingers of a Negro who sits astride of each drum. The larger drum is beaten slowly, the other more rapidly. This monotonous and hollow sound is accompanied by the noise of a certain number of calabashes which have been filled with pebbles, and which are pierced lengthwise by a long handle which is used in shaking them. Several danzas, a sort of large guitar with four strings, join in the concert, the tempo of which is regulated by the clapping hands of the Negro women, who form a

XXII

Introduction

large circle. They form a sort of chorus which responds to one or two strident solo voices, which repeat or improvise a song.‘

Motion pictures taken at the kalenda that I saw show an accompaniment of only six congo drums and several rattles. The dance itself is, however, recorded almost verbatim

as Moreau de St. Mery’s description continues:

A male and female dancer, or several dancers, divided into an equal number of each sex, jump into the center of the circle and begin to dance, always two by two. This dance, which varies very little, consists of a very simple step in which one foot is put forward after the other, and then drawn back quickly while striking the toe and the heel on the ground, as in the Anglaise. Some turns in place, or around the woman, who turns also and changes places with her partner; that is all which one sees, except for the movement of the arms, which the man raises and lowers with the elbows quite close to the body and the hands almost closed; the woman holds the two ends of a handkerchief, which she waves. When one has not seen this dance, one would hardly believe how lively and animated it is and how much grace it derives from the strictness with which the musical rhythm is followed. The dancers replace one another without respite, and the Negroes are so intoxicated with pleasure that it is necessary to force them to conclude dances of this sort, called Kalendas.*

The original intention of my field trip was to analyze the dances of the Caribbean culture area. This soon proved to be too extensive a venture for one field trip. As a result, I concentrated on certain areas of the island of Haiti. But just as the scant literature of the entire area was useful in the more definite focus, so the months spent in the broader survey of Jamaica, Martinique, and Trinidad were invaluable in substantiating this summary.

Introduction

XXili

Six months in the other islands of the Lesser and Greater Antilles had firmly established in me the conviction that each dance in a primitive or folk group is, or was at some earlier time, bound up with certain ritual activities, sacred or secular. In Haiti this conviction was further substantiated by my nine months of intensive investigating, armed with cameras, recording equipment, and notebooks. As it would have been impossible to make an intensive research of the whole island in the limited time allotted, I consulted my local field advisers: Dr. Price-Mars, Dr. J. C.

Dorsainville, and Dr. Camille Lhérisson, scholars of Port-au-Prince; the priestesses Degrasse and Teoline; and the priests Julian and Ti Cousin. On their advice, I confined my work to the environs of Port-au-Prince, Léogane, and the Plains of Cul-de-Sac, and I made only brief visits to Mirebalais, St. Marc, and Cap Haitien in the north. These

local advisers introduced me to native companions, helped me to locate living quarters, prepared these several communities for my arrival, and at the same time gave me sufficient background material for a substantial starting point. Dr. Louis Mars, then a graduate from the Sorbonne in psychiatry, and Mr. Fred Allsop, an English resident of Haiti since turned naturalist, were of inestimable help in facilitating my acceptance in the communities represented in this study. Very early I learned that one set of activities is reserved for the outsider, and another set of activities is reserved for those who “belong.” For me the belonging began by moving into a native habitation (an enclosure of several plaster huts behind a wattle fence, much resembling the African compound), soliciting intimate friendships with members of the community, and entering into the minor hardships and pleasures of the people. Much later this was followed by formal initiation into one of their religious cults. I explained that I was there to learn dances because I like to dance; to a people for whom dancing was an integral, vital expression of daily living this explanation seemed

natural enough. At times, however, to facilitate inclusion in the ceremonial life, it was

XXIV

Introduction

necessary to use a strategy which had been successful in the Maroon hill country of Jamaica—the intention of some ancestral ritual obligation.® In Haiti, more than in any of the other islands of the Caribbean, the peasant priesthood acknowledges the blood relationship of all people whose ancestors hailed from Nan Guinin (“from faraway Guinea”). When the stigma of being an American had worn off, there was great and protective interest in the recognition of “Guinea” blood ties and great concern for my ancestors, who had not received the proper ritual attention because that group of slaves taken farther north had been cut off from their brothers in the Caribbean and had forgotten these practices. In some instances, as in that of the mambo Teoline at Pont Beudet, it seemed that the welfare of the entire Negro race might be improved if these unfortunates to the north could be acquainted again with the rituals of ancestor worship and the vodun. [Even among the unlettered peasant population of Haiti there is a great consciousness of the oppressions suffered by their African ancestors during slavery, and certainly this was reawakened by the disastrous occupation of Haiti by the American Marines (1915 to 1934).] To this end, Teoline was extremely useful in bring-

ing about my initiation into the Rada-Dahomey cult, which is the matrix of so many of the dances of Haiti. Fortified by this mutual love of rhythmic expression, by some facility in the pursuit itself, and by the ancestral tie, observation and actual participation were not too difficult. Those who tutored, me felt a personal pride in their ability. This encouraged others to think of dances forgotten by all except the elders, and of dances that belonged to other regions of Haiti. I also drew on material from my own experiences or from the early historians, and I asked to be shown a dance of which I had heard or which I had

known in the other islands. The response to these requests was warm and immediate, and soon I was trudging the dusty Plains of Cul-de-Sac at night in a chairo-pie or undulating to the rhythm sacred to the snake god Damballa, under a shower of cologne at

Introduction

XXV

an initiation ceremony or beating the earth floor of the tonnelle at Pont Beudet in the violent foot agitation of the Pétro. Of course, this was all interspersed with social dances (bamboches) in the country and meringues at fashionable clubs and parties at Kenskoff or Port-au-Prince. And so, before many months this constant participation and observation led to the first rough outline that later developed into a fairly complex examination of the dances of Haitian peasants. This examination was made on the basis of material aspects, organization, and function, both individual and in social structure.

An arrangement of a bottle of clairin. a candle, and a vévé drawing to entice the loa Gèdé to make his

appearance at the ceremony.

The Island of Haiti

1

FROM the tropical seas that divide North and South America rises a group of island chains known as the Greater and Lesser Antilles. Some of these, such as the tiny island of Martinique, are volcanic; others are made up of great plains and high mountains cut by deep valleys. Such is the island known at one time as Hispaniola, at another time as Santo Domingo, second largest island in the Caribbean. It is today shared by the Black Republic of Haiti, the only French-speaking republic in America, and by the Dominican Republic. The history of the population of Haiti is identical with that of all the other islands of the Caribbean. Inhabited first by Arawak Indians, then by Caribs who invaded the Greater Antilles from South America, the entire Indian population almost to a man was slaughtered by the European invaders or died under the rigors of slavery during the first years of colonization. Slaves were then imported from northwest Africa, from Sierra Leone and the Gold Coast, from Dahomey,

western Nigeria, the Congo

Basin and even, because of intertrading, from the eastern coast. À great conglomeration of racial types and linguistic and cultural groupings was deposited on the separate islands, each European colonial nation favoring certain tribes for reasons of convenience, economy, or expedience. Thus, in those islands populated by the English are found Negroes chiefly of Gold Coast origin: Koromantee, Ibo, Ashanti.! The French imported Negroes chiefly from Dahomey, Arada, not a few from the Congo, and even some Sudanese from East Africa. In Spanish-speaking countries the Yoruba dominated,? though the influence of the Spanish in the Caribbean was so far-reaching that sooner or later practically every tribe known to the colonials had been subject to them.

Dances of Haiti

2

The history of Haiti was strongly affected by the fact that the island was extremely fertile and varied in climate, and was the most desirable among the French possessions for produce and colonization. Consequently, spurred by greed, the French colonists became careless as to the caliber of Negroes they imported; and they began to include those from the warrior tribes of the Fantis, Agonas,

Sosos, Mandingos,

and Fulas.

Traded from the most highly developed kingdoms of Africa, and above all from warrior tribes, it was inevitable that liberators would arise to lead the slaves in revolt until,

fortified by repercussions of the French Revolution of 1789, a complete and bloody victory was won by the Negroes. The first of the great leaders was Toussaint L’Ouverture. After his capture through treachery, Jean Jacques Dessalines, Alexandre Pétion, and

Henri Christophe followed as rulers in rapid succession. It was Dessalines who proclaimed independence in 1804 and restored the original name of “Haiti” to the island. Although the Black Republic had won its freedom from France, a century of internal strife and political upheaval followed, with power alternating between the ninety percent unmixed black population and the ten percent mulatto, the latter being by no means willing to relinquish the feudal state in which they lived as free men holding slaves and, after the revolution, holding the balance of economic rule. Through the dark period of slavery, through the bloody war for independence, and through a century and a half of internal struggle since the declaration of Dessalines, the Haitian peasant has clung to the religion of his forefathers, the vodun. Its gods have offered hope during the darkest periods of slavery and revolution. Its drums have summoned them from the farthest hills and plains to worship and to prepare for war. Its priests have led them in decisions of wisdom and courage. Its dances have maintained ancient rituals almost forgotten, have relieved their oppressed spirits, and have held them together in a common state of ecstasy.

>

ee

Car?

Sneed @

4

TEEN:

NY €: ÉROBCC Al

Two women possessed by Gèdé take a break and sit for the camera.

The Vodun

2

FOR A THOROUGH scientific field study, no one single trait may be removed from its cultural matrix. To know the dances of Haiti, the life surrounding the dances must be known, and the focus of this life is the vodun. Reduced to its simplest terms, the vodun is a cult of ancestor worship. The beliefs are a combination of animism and religions, and the chief rites extending these beliefs are propitiatory and seasonal, ancestral and agricultural. The Catholicism with which the African vodu merged is still superficial, being principally adopted as an expedient to satisfy the moral demands of visiting priests and government officials, and as a source of saintly effigies to replace those representations of deities lost in the process of transculturation. The three great families of cult practice in Haiti are the “true” vodun, or Rada-Dahomey, the Pétro, and the various crosscutting divisions of Congo. Within these families are numerous subfamilies, and there has never been agreement as to classification by investigators,! perhaps because of the cross-sectioning of these subfamilies, regional differentiation, and variability and confusion among the informants themselves. My own houngan and mambo informants’ took great pains to impress upon me the

essential differences between the two most powerful of the cults, the Rada-Dahomey and

the Pétro. The former was beneficent, positive in intention, and protective; the latter,

negative, dedicated to destructive or evil practice, and malevolent. so strong as to permeate the very atmosphere of a ceremony, not to sion of the ethos in drum rhythm and dance pattern. It provided material leading to one of the most provocative arguments of this tion of form and function. Of the Congo cults, Congo Moundong was

This difference was mention the expresa great deal of the book, the interrelaoften characterized

5

6

Dances of Haiti

in the same terms as Pétro: “black,” “bad,” and lap mangé moun. Whether the informants actually believed that it was in the cult practice of Congo Moundong and Pétro to mangé moun (eat human flesh), I do not know. The Congo Fran, which I observed in the

plains, had become amalgamated into the benevolent Rada-Dahomey family, and the Congo Paillette, witnessed in the north at Cap Haitien, was a seasonal-agricultural rather than a religious-ceremonial dance. On one point, however, all investigators seem to be in agreement. The Negro slaves brought with them from Africa to Haiti a strong pantheon of gods whose abode and

domain was in sky, river, mountain, and the forces of nature. They brought also a priestly hierarchy to act at times as intermediaries between these gods and man, at

times simply as the instruments for the propagation of ritual ceremony. The gods were called interchangeably loas or mystéres, and the houngan of high rank knew each one by name and knew the ceremony, clothing, food, drum rhythm, and dance that were its own.

It may seem that this book devotes much preliminary time exclusively to the sacred category of the dance. In Haiti this is inevitable, because the bloodstream of Haitian peasant psychology is the vodun, and the complex surrounding the vodun reaches well into the economic, social, and political life of Haiti. The external representation of the vodun is in dance.

—

An interlude between possessions.

The Dances: Their Divisions

3

APART

from the vodun ceremonies, Haiti also dances special rituals in the spring. For

days

nights on end the country

and

roads become

churning

arteries of white dust

streaming into the capital city and the main towns to celebrate Mardi Gras. These are the seasonal crowd dances. All year, except during Holy Week, Haiti dances under innumerable banana-thatched tonnelles to music of Dominican, Cuban, and Haitian origin. These are the social, small-crowd dances, the bamboches. Haiti dances, too, at funerals and at wakes and at work, and sometimes just pou’ plaisi’ (for pleasure), with

no other explanation. Out of all this great mass of movement, rhythm, and song, a division had to start

somewhere. For me, the starting point was between sacred and secular. The dances known as pou’ plaisi must not be requested when at a sacred ceremony. I was given

some preparation for this division, but the final analyses were based on trial, error, and

studied experiment. The taboo prohibiting pou’ plaisi’ dances at a sacred ceremony indi-

cated a whole set of secular dances completely set aside from the sacred. Infringement of this distinction was found to be emotionally very important. Within each of these latter

divisions another important distinction was made (discounting dances particular to the subfamilies of the cults and to subdivisions of the secular category) on the basis of the time of the year—the season. Dances belonging to specific seasons were danced only

during that season. A characteristic of these seasonal dances was that they could not be demonstrated by a single individual, because their essence and being revolved around the fact that they were crowd dances, with the impetus of the crowd affecting the form

10

Dances of Haiti

of the dance. Of these, some were large-crowd dances, such as the secular Mardi Gras and the marginal rara. Other seasonal dances might be small-crowd dances, such as the Pétro ceremony witnessed New Year’s Eve at Croix-des-Bouquets involving the abduction of small children and their consequent baptism in sacred streams. Thus the notation of the number of usual participants became of distinguishing importance. Halfway between sacred and secular fell a subdivision made up of marginal dances sharing characteristics of both. In this classification were the rara and the banda. At the time of this investigation there was confusion among informants as to the placement of rara or la-lwa-di dances, whether they were identical with Mardi Gras or a thing apart, bearing external resemblances but of separate significance. Among the older informants the consensus of opinion was that though the rara bands have become almost completely incorporated into Mardi Gras, they were, and still are in the more remote regions, a native celebration of the ascension of Christ. A standard bearer often carries an effigy of Judas, which is burned on Holy Saturday morning. The highly sexual form of most of the movements undoubtedly has to do with the stimulus to procreate new life to replace death. In the same way, the funeral dances among primitive peoples are often sexual in character.! The banda is officially a funeral dance and may be private and ceremonial, with cult supervision, or free, secular, and public, depending entirely on the wishes of the family of the deceased. At one time, attracted by the sound of drums near the hounfor I was visiting, I was forbidden by my houngan friend to make efforts to investigate. A banda was in session, ritualizing the transfer of the loa of a wellknown priest to his successor, and the air must be kept free from all profanity. At Pont Beudet, however, the banda was willingly demonstrated, and I was encouraged to participate.

3. The Dances: Their Divisions

11

I found no strict divisions among the dances on the basis of sex, though the work dance groups or combite were, by their nature, composed almost entirely of men. There was no particular taboo attached to the participation of women, however, and many times in the Plains of Cul-de-Sac young girls would follow the chairo-pie bands (explained to me as societies made up of people normally working together), intermittently joining in the dance. With the larger divisions under control, the next field problem lay in acquiring a technical background for distinguishing numerous dances within each category. As to the many dances and rhythms recorded by field observers since the material for my study was compiled, I do not feel qualified to quote them. The material in this book is a field report of dances actually observed and, almost without exception, participated in. Undoubtedly, with the rapid industrialization of Haiti in the interim, there has been

a diminishing of regional concentration and some shifting of emphasis from sacred to secular, as well as a degree of change in form and function in the natural process of acculturation.

Part of the hounfor, which houses the altar and various sacred objects, including pot tétes, plates of food for the loas, images of Catholic saints, primitive paintings, photographs of the national president, flags, costumes, perfume, rum, and amulets.

Material Aspects

4

IN THE isolation of one dance form from another, differentiation based on material aspects is of great assistance. Material aspects of the dance complex include instruments

of accompaniment, insignia, clothing, ritual paraphernalia, and song—text and music. Instruments of accompaniment to the dances of Haiti are chiefly percussion drums, rattles (seeds inside or out), the sacred bell, bamboo tubes, and an iron plate struck with

a nail. Guitars and marimboulas have been imported from Cuba for the bamboches. A

little time spent on becoming familiar with the kind, size, shape, and color of these

instruments of accompaniment proved to be of infinite value to me. The standard

sacred drum is the rada, used in indivisible sets of three: mama, seconde, and boula or

kata. The radas are easily recognizable by the wooden pegs or knobs inserted below the rim of the head to tighten the skin. On rare occasions I have seen the rada drums separated for rara or Mardi Gras use, but this calls forth disapproval from orthodox cult followers and renders the instruments taboo for further cult use until rebaptized. There are regional differences of decoration for these rada drums. They are ordinarily painted

in the colors of the loa to whose special service they are dedicated. My own, for instance,

dedicated to Damballa, are divided midway by a band of pale blue and a band of white.

I acquired at Nan Campeche, near the Citadel in Cap Haitien, a set of very ancient rada drums dating from before the occupation of the American Marines in 1915. Many of the valuable old drums were burned at this time in an effort to restrict ceremonial activity, no doubt because of the cohesive elements of these ceremonies. The set presented to me at Nan Campeche was of natural wood, unpainted and patinated from many generations’ use.

Dances of Haiti

14

The form of the rada drum with its pegs inserted into the head has been transported intact from Africa. The same form is also found among the religious cults of Trinidad, though in Trinidad the standard rada set of three expands into as many as six played simultaneously.

In the rada ceremony,

the mama,

or largest drum,

is struck with a

wooden hammer, the seconde is struck with a baguette, or bow-shaped piece of wood strung with a cord, and the kata is struck with two small sticks. All of these accessories

are as sacred as the drums themselves; a small iron plate (ogan) struck with an iron nail

is essential at every ceremony, its sacredness perhaps dating from the discovery of iron

smelting in Africa. A rattle or asson in the hand of the leading hounci, mambo, or houn-

gan completes the instruments of the sacred dance. These instruments are all strictly taboo for secular use and are ritually baptized, named,

and tended according to the

specification of the cult. The housing of the sacred drums is also important. The drums must never be housed in the open but either in the privacy of the hounfor (temple), where only the higher initiates may enter, or under the tonnelle (peristyle), a shelter constructed of palm leaves and bamboo poles. Drums peculiar to one cult or nation are housed separately, or at least in separate rooms if not under separate roofs. The priest Ti’Cousin, in the region just beyond Léogane, was accused of zombi practices. His seven wives were, according to local gossip, mort. Even worse, he was reputed to be a practitioner of the “cannibalistic” Congo Moundong. My chief impression of his compound, aside from fleeting glimpses of shy wives who, in true Haitian fashion, stayed much in the background, was of several hounfor and the different drum families hanging from the center pole of each peristyle. Ti’Cousin, a solemn, extremely astute peasant of reputedly great wealth and certainly of great Community stature, had been expecting me for many days, though my decision to visit him was, I thought, known only to me and to my informant and was certainly

4. Material Aspects

15

extemporaneous. Io see dances I would have to stay at the compound for some days. This was impractical at the time, so I had to be content with this visit to the drum families and with a reluctant drink of holy water from a semistagnant pool in front of the altar in the hounfor of Congo Moundong. The negative aspects of being a woman field worker were often counterbalanced by the positive elements of racial affinity. In the handling of the sacred instruments I found this especially true. The ritual drums were never touched by a woman, even the highest of the mambos. Many liberties were permitted me because of my unofficial position as emissary of the lost black peoples from Nan Guinin. Ti’Cousin owned a set of priceless old rada drums and several sets of Pétro drums. His Congo drums were in use in a closed hounfor, where a several-day initiation was under way. The Pétro drums are conical, but the heads are regulated not by pegs, as in the case of rada drums, but by ropes passed through the skins and secured at the base of the drum. The drums are in sets of three but are manipulated by the hands, without the baguette or kata sticks. An iron pole approximately three feet high is another outstanding material feature of Pétro ceremonies. On New Year’s Eve at Croix-des-Bouquets this pole was erected in the center of a charcoal fire. Much of the dancing at the ceremony was directed toward the pole, and as it began to glow with heat, the fervor of the dance increased. What the further use of the heated iron was I do not know, because I left the

ceremony proper to see the baptism of the children. At one Pétro ceremony, small bits of ceremonial pig were cooked on the fire surrounding the pole. The instruments of the bands or crowds of the seasonal Mardi Gras and those of the rara dances are heterogeneous and vary in number and kind regionally. Equipment of the large bands near Port-au-Prince or Léogane could be considered standard: a conical drum of approximately three feet in height tightened by ropes running crisscross

16

Dances of Haiti

the length of the drum; a small cylindrical hand drum hung from a cord around the neck of the player; a chorus of boys blowing trumpets of three- or four-foot joints of bamboo called granboe. To operate the granboe, the left hand opens and closes over the end as a pressure-stop, and a regular grunting noise is made into the mouth opening, while the right hand may or may not keep a steady accompanying beat on the tube with a small stick. There is also a double-headed drum, beat sometimes with sticks and

sometimes with bare hands. The tambou espaniol or basse, however, is the most important instrument of these seasonal dance bands. This Spanish tambourine, found in each of the more important islands of the Lesser and Greater Antilles, bears a material evidence to the widespread influence of the early Spanish colonists. Its use in Haiti, however, is different from that in any of the other islands. The thumb of the right hand is covered with powdered resin and is then drawn in a rapid spiral circling the face of the tambourine from its center outward. The result is a humming roar that can be heard for a remarkable distance and that much resembles the sound made by the African bullroarer. According to Courlander, “Rara is very old. The word itself may come from the Yoruba adverb rara, meaning loudly; it was used only to modify the verb ke, meaning to make sound or noise.”! The instruments of the social small-crowd dances have been diffused through the islands of the Caribbean to a far greater extent than those of the sacred dances. Where similarities between instruments of a ceremonial nature are found, almost without ex-

ception their point of origin can be traced directly back to the tribe or nation that introduced them. The story is quite different with the drums, guitars, rattles, scrapers, and other instruments accompanying the meringues, boleros, rumbas, danzöns, pignittes and

other social dances making up the categoty known loosely as bamboches. Of course,

4. Material Aspects

17

there will be one or more drums of some sort, perhaps an unbaptized rada, or a profaned Pétro, or a pair of bongos imported from Cuba. Usually someone plays a fourstringed Spanish guitar, or the six-stringed tres popular in Puerto Rico. The Cuban jawbone? and guiro and marimboula are common embellishments. The marimboula combines the plucked resonance of the marimba with the percussive emphasis of the boula, or drum. It is a boxlike instrument with an opening in the face across which are fastened steel thongs of varied length and corresponding tone differences. The player sits straddled across the box while he alternately or concurrently plucks the steel bands and beats the face of the box with the palm of his hand. In the dance orchestras employed for private parties of the Haitian elite, or for clubs and cafes in Port-au-Prince, the clarinet is prominent, much as it is in the beguine orchestras of Martinique. The rattle, which is always used singly at the sacred ceremonies, and then only by persons qualified, is used at the bamboche in pairs, one in each hand, and is played Cuban or Jamaican style. Whether a dance is sheltered is important; if it is, the type of shelter, if not the geographic radius likely to be covered by it, is another material determinant in classification. The country bamboches are almost invariably under a permanent tonnelle. The use of the tonnelle, or banana-thatch roof supported by poles, for some of the sacred dances has led many casual reporters to confuse these with the bamboches. The seasonal dances are always in the open and the dancing groups are characterized by their roving pattern. The rara bands may cover a radius of twenty-five or thirty miles during the course of two or three days, a constant halt-run movement called chairo-pie carrying them across plains, cane fields, banana plantations, and habitations. In town, the avenue of travel is the main road, and here, as in the country, the bands stop from time to time to allow

18

Dances of Haiti

the leaders to engage in competitive dances. These dances obviously could have no shelter. The combite, although roving in quality, has a definite destination, unless it is being performed purely for diversion. The combite or work group, organized along the lines of the African dokpwe,? travels under the guidance of professional combite drummers. It lingers at the houses or fields of farm neighbors to assist in planting, reaping, house building, or any of the activities that concern peasant economy. Although the combite itself can hardly be called a dance, certain of the work activities actually adhere to a rhythmic choreographic pattern and in this sense are dances.* At the close of the work period (several hours, a day, several days) any of the social dances of the bamboche may be indulged in under the local tonnelle, or in the open yard of the compound of the host. The chairo-pie traveling step of the Mardi Gras carries the band to and from their destination. This is ordinarily a small-crowd dance with no shelter, covering a small radius.° The most intimate of the sacred dances take place within the inner rooms of the hounfor, and only the initiated may see and participate in them. It was not until my own initiation that I was aware of the ritual formula within the hounfor. This initiation was lavé-téte, the first of several before becoming a full-fledged mambo. Until this time I, as other uninitiated investigators, looked upon the hounfor as a temple for housing and manipulating paraphernalia, and the outer tonnelle as the scene of the sacred dance. | learned, however, that within the hounfor the highest of the hounci gather to perform the dance rituals surrounding initiations and extremely serious or dangerous ceremonies. Beside the solemnity of these inner-temple dances, which are made up of a small and select group, the sacred dances under the tonnelle seem almost profane.

4. Material Aspects

19

Clothing is another material aspect of the Haitian dance. Each religious cult has costuming characteristic in design and color, as have the devotees of particular deities within the cult itself. Thus it is not difficult to distinguish a Pétro dance from a vodun dance, or a possession by the god Asaka from one by the god Baron Samedi, on the basis of clothing alone. The god Damballa of the Rada-Dahomey cult prefers the colors pale blue and white. Drums especially dedicated to him are painted in these colors, and these are the colors of his clothing. The colors of Pétro are red, usually in combination with royal blue. Ciseau, one of our favorite rada drummers at Pont Beudet, was an ardent disciple of Rada-Dahomey and became possessed by Pétro Zandor at a Rada-Dahomey ceremony. It was very embarrassing, especially since Teoline was unable to appease Pétro Zandor. For several days Ciseau was “ridden” by this alien and violent god. Finally Teoline in desperation ordered her assisting hounci to make a patched jumper of dark blue and red and announced a ceremony for Pétro Zandor. The jumper made, a problem arose as to who was to carry it to the ceremony. On the way, I met Cecile in tears, stumbling over the fields in a precipitate shortcut to the tonnelle. She had been selected for the task of transporting the jumper, and she was terrified that the ceremonial jacket might attract Pétro Zandor en route and that she, uninitiated in the mysteries of his cult, might be

violently ridden by him, perhaps even to her destruction. The clothing sacred to particular deities may serve to attract, to announce, or to appease them. One of the common and fearsome possessions is by Papa Gédé, whose special emissary is Baron Samedi. Baron Samedi fancies himself quite a dandy, is a heavy drinker, and expresses himself in foul language and lascivious movements. He wears a top hat, a black tail coat, a skirt of cloth or grass, and at times dark glasses. If dark

20

Dances of Haiti

glasses are not available, he may simply wear battered rims without lenses. Baron Samedi’s dual sexuality is expressed in gesture and language as well as in clothing. For my own initiation into the Rada-Dahomey cult, I had to buy, aside from sacrificial food, cologne, and liquor, an initiation night shift of pure white linen and various white headkerchiefs. For the Sunday morning ceremony terminating the three-day isolation, the drums that I was to take away with me were painted a glossy pale blue and white. An old blue corduroy skirt and white blouse that I wore frequently on my excursions into the bush may have helped establish my identification with Damballa. At the establishment of the priest Julien at Descayettes in the hills above Port-auPrince the loa Asaka seemed to be omnipresent. Everywhere people greeted each other as cousin. The rough “hail fellow” language and manner of the country hills was adopted, as were the straw hat, red neckerchief, blue denim jacket, and woven shoulder sack (macoute) with its bottle of sweetened liquor mixed with clairin, which was passed

from devotee to devotee under possession. Evidently Asaka was well anticipated because, as the ceremony progressed into the third day, at least a dozen such outfits were in use.

The Carnival costumes range from elaborate masks of animal likenesses, to pure fantasy, to simple, ragged unkemptness. In Port-au-Prince, groups and clubs of young society boys and girls plan costumes and floats for months ahead. The favorite themes here, as in the comparsas of Havana, are representations of bands of Moors, Egyptians, and other such exotics. In the country the masks are grotesque, more given to animal representations, and each participant is out for himself rather than seeking anonymity as in the city group. Mixed in with the country Carnival miscellany, occasional gear of the loa may be seen. In some instances, the clothing of the mystére is worn months on end for one ritual reason or another. It also seems, though my informants were a little

4. Material Aspects

21

vague on this point, that after a time the clothing loses its mana quality and may be worn as any other piece of costume or clothing. Now and then a possessed person joins in a Carnival band, although possessions are very uncommon during this season because the entire national psychology is diverted to profane rather than to sacred expression. Clothing for the social dances has no definite characteristic. One may be in everyday clothes or very much dressed up, according to the size and importance of the occasion.

As part of the complex surrounding dances, song and music are of major importance and are indispensable to the concept. and execution of movement. One of the confusions in identifying dances by name arises out of the frequent dual name both for song title and dance category. A dance finally classified as ‘zépaules may be called “Legba”’ if the accompanying song is a song to the god Legba, but the same dance may be done to numerous other songs of 'zépaules rhythm. It is practically impossible for even the more skillful of the dancers to demonstrate a dance step without humming a song or marking a rhythm to accompany it. Very often the older people indicated that they remembered dances no longer known to the community, but they were unable to execute them because there was no one to play the rhythms or sing the songs to accompany them. In general, each family of the mystéres has its own special drum rhythm; each mystere has one or more songs sung to this family rhythm. Each rhythm has also a characteristic dance it accompanies. The dances in the inner hounfor are the only ones I have known to be unaccompanied by drum rhythms. At the height of the secret ceremony of lavé-téte initiation, songs are quietly sung in langage but drums are not played. Just as the instruments of the sacred dance lose their sacredness if transferred for use in the secular dances, so the songs and drum rhythms must not be interchanged. In

22

Dances of Haiti

the strictest sense, it is as unthinkable to beat a sacred rhythm or to sing a sacred song at a secular gathering as it is shocking for the blundering investigator to suggest a sacred dance at this time. Exceptions occur in the immediate environs of Port-au-Prince, where the strongest impact with industrialization has made for a diminishing of the strictness of ritual observance. Harold Courlander, in Haiti Singing, offers songs of numerous sacred and secular dances of Haiti. To quote only two, each vodun ceremony opens with a request of Papa Legba, gatekeeper, to open the barrier so the other gods may enter and the ceremony may proceed: Attibon Legba, ouvri bayè pou moin! Ago! Ou we, Attibon Legba, ouvri bayè pou moin, ouvri baye M’apé rentré, quand ma tourné, Ma salut loa yo! Attibon Legba, open the gate for me! Ago! You see me here, Attibon Legba, open the gate for me, open the gate, I will come in when I return,

I salute the loa!®

The song to Bakulu Baka, loa of the Pétro cult, expresses the malevolent attributes of Pétro. When black magic is practiced, a “contract” must be made between the assigner and the loa. The contract is often in the form of a promise of the life or soul of another person. In the following song, Bakulu Baka tells of the assignment:

4. Material Aspects

23

Bakulu Baka! Yo voyé rélé moin pou’m al fai yo mal, oh! Bakulu Baka! Yo voyé rélé moin pou’m al fai yo mal, oh! Qua ma rivé ma tuyé vingt, oh, pou lévé yun, oh! Coté yo we’m tendé! I am Bakulu Baka! Someone sends for me to do ill to someone, oh! I am Bakulu Baka! Someone sends for me to do ill to someone, oh! When I arrive I shall kill twenty, oh, to raise one, oh! Where you see me, wait there!’

The songs of Haiti have been well recorded both on discs and in literature.2 Some of them, such as the meringues “Choucounne” and “Nibo” and one or two of the favorite vodun invocations, have become widely popular in other countries, though they have not as yet received the general recognition of the Cuban rumbas, sons, and boleros. In this section on material aspects, a brief space should be devoted to the paraphernalia of the ceremonies. The asson (ceremonial rattle) is more than an instrument of

accompaniment. In the hands of the priest or priestess who tion the right to use it (this stage of the vodun initiation becomes an instrument of supernatural power. The air is god, and the movement of the god is controlled to some

has achieved through initiais called prise-de-l’asson), it cleared for the entry of the degree by the asson. At the

start of a ceremony, the asson is shaken along with an altar bell (cloche) which is held in

the same hand. The houngan or mambo traverses the area of the dance, describing circles and waving the asson and bell much as the priest in a Catholic church clears the air

24

Dances of Haiti

with his censer. Flags are a part of all ceremonies to the ancestors. The flag-bearers and machete-bearers solemnly precede the members of the family giving the service. Sometimes the houngan blows a whistle at the same time that he shakes his rattle and rings his bell. The asson may contain seeds, but those with snake vertebrae or colored glass beads strung on the outside are preferred. Especially in the cults of the snake god Damballa, a good deal of power is believed to be vested in the dried vertebrae, which seem to improve the caliber of the asson. Necklaces of glass beads are also important as charms for warding off evil and for control. Before my departure from Haiti, I was presented by Degrasse with a necklace of ancient, dried snake vertebrae, an asson, and a cloche. A

closer marriage to Damballa seemed to be indicated in the wearing of the necklace. Among the other material equipment resulting from my initiation was a pot téte, a small, white earthenware pot with a cover. The cover was to be lifted only on the most critical occasions. Inside were bits of stuff from the three-day confinement—hair,

feathers, liquor, dried blood, and pinches of sacrificial food. With each opening, the

strength of the pot is somewhat weakened. Opening by strange hands would completely destroy its efficacy. These pots were found in numbers on every hounfor altar and in altars of private huts. The perfect marriage between vodun and Catholic saints is well evidenced in the altar pictures of the hounfor. The marriage may be only one of convenience but it works out very well. The classic example is the transposition of Damballa (the snake) into St. Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland. The Virgin Mary, being the mother of Jesus and therefore of high importance in the religious protocol, becomes identified with Grande Erzulie. Legba, opener of the gates, is directly identified with St. Peter. Candles, calebasse bowls, meal for drawing designs or vévé on the ground, bottles of colognes and

4. Material Aspects

25

liquors, plates of dried sacrificial food, stones housing loa, single and double crosses, knives, machetes, containers of dried roots and herbs, and the sword of the nation com-

plete the objects ordinarily found on the hounfor altar. Confusing as the array of material factors may be, once in hand they establish visual differences that greatly assist the investigator who is not equipped for immediate recognition of choreographic patterns. They at least can be separated and cataloged as materially distinct artifacts.

A young girl sits beside a set of ceremonial drums. In the Rada cult, there are always three: the mama, the intermediate seconde, and the smallest, called boula or kata.

Organization of Dance Groups

5

IN THE process of analyzing the dance, it is inevitable that more and more features will gradually become apparent as basic characteristics peculiar to specific dance gatherings. One of these is the structure or organization of the group or crowd assembled to dance. Before arriving at a dance, two of the simplest methods of determining what kind of a dance is in progress are by taking note of the season—one would automatically exclude the possibility of a rara dance in July—and by drum beat and musical instruments used. In the Port-au-Prince environs, the latter could be determined several miles from

the actual scene of the dance, because the surrounding mountains act as a perfect sounding board for the radas, pétros, or vaccines. Continuous listening, recording both by

notation

and

record

machine,

and

many

hours

of private

tutoring

thoroughly

familiarized me with the basic, larger rhythmic categories; so it became quite easy to distinguish between the sacred and the secular, then later to recognize many of their various subdivisions. At the dance, one discovers some sort of structure or organization, whether it is highly developed, as in the case of the sacred dance congregation, or extremely loose, as in the case of the Carnival band. Determining the organization requires observation of the emotions and behavior patterns, for these depend directly or indirectly upon the type and authority of the organization. In every respect, the most highly organized dance group is the congregation gathered to perform the rituals of a sacred ceremony. The external expression of the ceremony consists chiefly in ritual dancing. A boulé-zin, the initiation for the kanzo degree Zi

28

Dances of Haiti

of the Rada-Dahomey cult in the Plains of Cul-de-Sac, illustrates the complexities of the organization of a sacred or ceremonial dance. In some instances, as at the habitation of the priest Julien in the mountains above Port-au-Prince, the people at such a gathering might be members of a clan or extended family. In our example from the Plains, the congregation is heterogeneous, local, gathered on the basis of mutual interest and beliefs. A certain set of well-defined sanctions must be observed in dancing as well as in mere attendance. This behavior is enforced by fear of group disapproval, by religious awe, and by the authority of the officiating priests and priestesses and their hounci or retainers. For such an important and dangerous ceremony as the kanzo, the houngan or mambo who has been designated to perform the ritual invites, perhaps from far-off communities, other outstanding and influential assistants, preferably including one whose reputation indicates that he or she has passed stages of initiation beyond those of anyone else present. The stages of initiation in the Plains of Cul-de-Sac were described to me as follows. The lowest in order is bossale, or an unclean, uninitiated neophyte who attends the ceremonies but whose body has never been ritually prepared for the reception of the loa. Reception in this state may prove dangerous. Next in order is the hounci lavé-téte. This may take place early or late in life, whenever the urge is felt by the initiate and when indications of preparedness have been approved by the priest or priestess. This initiation involves a three-day isolation. Following the lavé-téte ceremony is the kanzo or boulé-zin. This is a nine-day isolation, concluding with an open ceremony in which the initiate is subjected to a test of fire, burning oil, and meal mixed with burning oil. Prise-de-l’asson, which was described to me as requiring fifteen-days’ isolation, is followed by prise-de-lacloche. Ceremonial prise-de-la-cloche seems to take place chiefly in the north, as does the

5. Organization of Dance Groups

29

prise-des-yeux ceremony, earning for the initiate the final stage of the vodun—the right and power to divine, to see into the past and the future. There were no hounci above the asson degree in the regions where most of my field work was done. Degrasse, a prisede-la-cloche, and Teoline, a prise-de-l’asson, knew of and respected the higher stages and hoped someday to undergo the rigorous three-months’ isolation and great expense involved in prise-des-yeux. Perhaps not over three or four prise-des-yeux exist. in Haiti. The high-degree priest or priestess officiating at a ceremony automatically takes charge of the specialized and secret duties, and a hounci of the next highest authority takes direct charge of the singing and dancing, all of which must be done according to the strictest formulas, for the safety of the undertaking. A mistake or uncertainty might result in the severe injury or death of one of the initiates. As at all sacred dances, the officiating mambo or houngan indicates to one of her hundjénicon, or assisting hounci, which songs are to be sung, in what order, when they are to begin, and when they must finish. This assisting hounci holds the sacred rattle, unless the mambo wishes to take it from her at critical intervals, and leads the singing, to which the group responds. At a very important ceremony, such as this kanzo, until the initiation is complete only those who are a part of the official organization may sing and dance. All activity is indirectly controlled through assistants by the high priest in charge. Even the profane and uninitiated are awed by this presence of authority. Any untoward action, even to allow oneself to become possessed by one of the loa during this particular stage of the ceremony, is frowned upon and treated as a special behavior problem or infringement of sanctions. An outsider is at once impressed by the hierarchy controlling each gesture of the congregation, and one’s immediate surmise is that this can be no ordinary dance. The general pattern of the serious vodun initiation involves both a public and a private cere-

30

Dances of Haiti

mony. These may occur separately or together during the period of ritual isolation, but the last stage is always a grand climax of concerted ceremony inside and outside the hounfor. After the last of the inner hounfor secret ceremonies, the kanzo initiates are led from the sanctuary, guarded by singing and dancing attendants and protected by white cotton sheets from the view of the profane. The initiates must then pass through an ordeal of fire, a tense period for onlookers as well as officials. The ordeal by fire is called boulézin because of the burning iron pots, some of which are old and smoke blackened and said to have been brought from Nan Guinin. The number of pots varies at every initiation depending upon the number of initiates; the pots are placed over charcoal fires in a circle around the outer edge of the tonnelle, and in each is a ritually prepared mixture of flaming meal, food, and oil. A dash of white rum added at the crucial moment causes a bright flame, increasing the impression of danger. When I attended my first kanzo ceremony, I did not know of the previous nine-days’ isolation with its strenuous period of fasting and hypnosis-inducing preparation for the ordeal. For this reason, the procession of white-sheeted figures who were led to the burning pots at the height of their ecstatic dance was especially awesome. The houngan of the highest order demonstrated by first putting his own hand into the burning pot. One by one the others followed suit. The houngan withdrew from each pot a small handful of the burning mess, rolled it into a ball, and dropped it back into the pot again as seeming proof of his impregnability. The initiates were required only to dip into the pot. There was a great excitement at this particular boulé-zin because a child of nine was being made kanzo. I managed to glimpse her as she approached from the hounfor between a pair of violently shaking sheets; she seemed completely calm and self-possessed and followed the elders to the burning pots with no sign of fear or emotion.

5. Organization of Dance Groups

31

The return of the initiates to the hounfor is a signal for the entire congregation to join in the dancing. It is also the signal for possessions and ecstasies. At this time it is common for hounci of certain grades to dance together and for the highest one or two dancing to set a style for the rest. The houngan or mambo in charge, by now completely exhausted from the fire ordeal, usually has to supervise the retiring of his or her charge. The ceremony passes then to the next hundjénicon in charge, and the dance continues along the usual vodun pattern. Gods are called; respect is shown to them in song, dance,

and drum rhythms; other gods enter and are greeted; others enter and are encouraged to leave. To this end, the officiating priest may decide to introduce a maison, an extremely sexual dance that, by its character, is supposed to satisfy the unwanted loa to the point that he will be willing to leave. The hounci in charge must know every sign and behavior indicative of loa possession. Keen observation of human nature is one of the chief prerequisites of the bush priest. He or she must act quickly and with authority, by word or gesture or glance directing and guiding the assisting hounci as well as the whole congregation. The influence of. the hounci with the most personality is reflected in the dances. Though variations on the theme are allowed, the congregation tends to adopt mannerisms and to absorb styles or movement set by the highest authorities. Teoline’s authority seemed to grow out of the sheer power of her robustness; Degrasse directed by sharp, fine, birdlike movements. Under the influence of one or the other of these, I have seen the

group style change during the course of an evening. Participants in the services are closely united by common

interest, beliefs, experiences, sanctions, and kinship, either

through blood, adoption (each initiate has a host of godfathers and godmothers), or possession by common gods. This, together with the fact that the same people dance together night after night, year after year, produces great stylization and localization of

32

Dances of Haiti

the sacred dances. As an agent in this localization, the role of organization or structure can readily be seen.

In connection with the organization of the sacred dance, a word must be said about the drummers. Of necessity, they are themselves initiates. Their constant contact with and care of the sacred instruments gives them a position of high authority and respect. It is the drummer of the mama who regulates the tone and pace of the dance, who decides when it is appropriate to introduce the breaks or feints which so often induce possession, and who, by fixing his attention upon and directing his drumming toward a particular individual, invokes the mystére to enter that individual. Contrary to the custom of the social-dance drummers, those of the sacred dances are not in the habit of

singing while drumming at the ceremonies. I have seen them turn a drum over to someone else for a few minutes because of an urge to sing and dance. To say that they do not sing is not to say that they do not express themselves vocally; violent ejaculations, grunts, abobos, and expressive cries are in order. It is not unusual for the drummers themselves to become possessed while drumming. At the opposite extreme from the sacred dance in organization is the secular crowd or seasonal dance. On occasion the rara dance may be comprised of the same individuals who form a work society or combite. The Congo society at Dessources, for instance, invaded our Plains territory vendredi saint. But usually the Mardi Gras bands are conglomerations of individuals of all ages, interests, and occupations, united for a brief,

orgiastic demonstration in answer to a seasonal urge. Confronted again with the terms rara and Mardi Gras, I find it necessary to reiterate that the interchange of the two terms for the one dance is superficial and, I believe, fairly recent. The rara undoubtedly

has an earlier, more religious connotation, as evidenced by the character of the bands

5. Organization of.Dance Groups

33

encountered after the Mardi Gras season is over, during Lent. The rara of caréme (Lent)

is found only infrequently in rural communities; the Mardi Gras is a national occupation for weeks before Ash Wednesday. Rara has been improperly incorporated into Mardi Gras; and because the interchange of terms is common, they have been accepted as one and the same. Properly speaking, Mardi Gras begins weeks before the actual three-day (Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday) culmination and ends on Shrove Tuesday. During the Lenten period, however, bands are still encountered along the dusty roads. These are rara bands, not in the festive mood of Mardi Gras but seriously celebrating the arising Christ. (The vodun seems to be completely forgotten; services are suspended during Lent.) I therefore differentiate the rara bands of the Mardi Gras from the rara of the Lenten period. A majordomo wearing short trousers, shoes and stockings, a jacket heavily encrusted with beads, mirrors, and brilliants, and a huge headdress of paper flowers, mirrors, and ostrich plumes, leads the Mardi Gras band, baton in hand. As a rule, a red-robed representation of Judas is held aloft on a pole by the la-lwa-di of the semaine sainte (Holy Week) rara band. During the Carnival season, the streets of city and rural districts are

alive with bands of merrymakers, numbering at times four- or five-hundred, such as the Ortofonik or gros bouzin bands of the Grand-Rue in Port-au-Prince. The majors or “kings” who head these bands encounter other bands, challenging the leaders to a very complicated competitive dance. These same majors were found some years ago in Jamaica but have now practically disappeared there. In Jamaica they were called “John Connu,” and in the earliest account wore the same elaborate antlerlike headdress of the Haitian major. Later they were mentioned as carrying whole miniature houses in miniature canoes on their heads. The dance of the Carnival majordomo, which will be de-

34

Dances of Haiti

scribed later, reaches the highest degree of specialization in the island of French descent or influence, where the native spring festival is greatly accentuated by the imposition of the European carnival. The mass dances revolve around the king, who remains aloof from what is going on in the crowd gathered at his heels. He has a specific duty—to outdance any other king whom the band chances to meet in its wanderings in town and country. In the meantime, there are no regulations or sanctions for the crowd to observe. They may stop to watch the dance of competition, cheering the more agile and ridiculing the loser, or they may go into frenzies of dancing alone or with random partners. They may join in the drinks which the losing band must buy, or they may continue dancing, perhaps oblivious to the fact that there has been a break in the march. The stopping points and general direction of the march are directed by a selfappointed guide, usually with a whistle and a baton. When he tires of his job, he passes it on to a neighbor. A woman, any woman who chooses, will lead the singing. The drummers take decidedly secondary positions, classed as mere professionals in contrast with the sacred attributes of the ceremonial drummers. The majors or kings are also professionals. Often the same ones lead bands year after year, maintaining the undisputed privilege of best dancers. Many of them are known at great distances from their own communities, and the special qualities and failings of each majordomo are common gossip. These men have trained as professional dancers from childhood. In most country regions, one or more bands will have little boys as leaders under the supervision of older men. But though the premiers are highly trained, highly specialized individuals, their positions in leadership or authority in the band are negligible. It is as heterogeneous a gathering as one could imagine, with no head authority, minimal restrictions (anything goes here!), no stability (one joins or leaves the Carnival band at

5. Organization of Dance Groups

35

will, today behind one major, tonight behind his rival), loose organization, and no set behavior patterns. As we shall see in a later discussion of psychological function, the Carnival band is motivated by distinctly different psychophysical impulses from those of the sacred dance groups, despite the elements of self-hypnotism present in both. Indeed, mass hypnotism and catharsis might be said to be the strongest elements of organization in these bands. When societies such as the Congo society of Dessources join the Mardi Gras bands, they bring with them whatever organization has previously existed, but they come and go as a single unit and thus affect the whole very little. The rara bands of Holy Week are smaller, are more simply dressed, and do not indulge in the elaborate masking of Mardi Gras. They may be simply small bands of modestly costumed peasants carrying an effigy. The figure is that of Judas Iscariot. One or two men may carry flags and, at a signal from the leader of la-lwa-di, the band stops to engage in the same sensuous dancing that characterizes Mardi Gras. The small size and the nondescript quality of these bands seems to indicate a weakness in function. Perhaps there is a general lack of interest among the peasants because they are exhausted from the weeks of Mardi Gras or because of the Christian religious element. On Easter Sunday morning, the effigy of Judas is burned. I feel that before long the rara will have been completely absorbed in Carnival and there will be no more Holy Week danses du ventre. [Since the 1947 edition, I find, to the contrary, that the rara bands

have become more violent and greater in number, emphasizing the show of whips

rather than of flags. K.D.] These bands, too, are loose in organization and fluctuate as

to membership. Halfway between the two extremes in organization falls the social, small-group dance. This is commonly known as the bamboche among the country people. A bamboche is any get-together, or “blowout,” not connected with religious rites and not cate-

36

Dances of Haiti

gorized as a seasonal dance. It may have as its primary feature a wedding celebration, or it may be organized to fete the departure of a notable in the community. It may be a part of feast-day entertainment for a Christian saint (curiously enough, though the ceremonies for the cult gods are sacred and according to ritual, the scene at a feast for a Christian saint is one of decidedly secular entertainment); or someone may simply decide to give a bamboche, making the necessary preparations and notifying people. Or it may simply be an instituted Saturday or Sunday night dance. In town, dances are in the houses of prostitution or along the lower waterfront in rum shops. On the outskirts of town and in the country, they are held in fairly permanent shelters, occasionally in the same tonnelle that serves the community for vodun dances. In the organization of a social dance, a striking difference exists between groups in town and country. In town at the rum shops and public houses, the common dance is the meringue, the national dance of Haiti. This might be described under the general term of ballroom dance but, as is true of the closely related national dances of the other islands, the meringue has undergone radical changes in character on being introduced into an urban setting. These dances in town call for no unusual knowledge or skill and no leader. Men pay to enter an establishment and dance with the women, or they buy rum for the privilege of dancing, and they leave at will. All are young or middle-aged people, still very active sexually, who seek stimulus and outlet for a definite localized urge. There is no structure whatsoever in the groups that gather at these public dance houses. It is a matter of two people, who are not interested in the rest of the group and who have no contact or association with the others, often having themselves met only by chance. They have no particular feeling of interest in the dance, excepting as it serves the secondary purposes of sensory stimulus and an excuse for physical and social contact.

5. Organization of Dance Groups

37

In the country, to the casual observer the bamboche bears some resemblance in outward appearance to the vodun or other sacred dance gatherings, probably because it takes place under a tonnelle. This perhaps accounts for much of the confusion in descriptive accounts of vodun dances. Undoubtedly many of the sins of the bamboche, such as the excessive rum drinking and the sexual character of the dances, have been attributed to the priests of Damballa. But to one who frequents the two gatherings, they are as distinctly different in structure as they are in form and function. In place of the special clothes, the imposing hounci, and the officiating houngan or mambo, one finds a self-appointed mait-la-danse, usually one of the best dancers in the neighborhood. He must have a female partner and she, too, must be outstanding as a dancer. In the country, the same people appear time after time at a bamboche, not only because it is a neighborhood affair but also because of the limited opportunity to travel any distance in the short time between sundown Saturday and sunrise Monday, when every peasant is faced again with the practical problems of existence. It is not unusual, however, to meet

bands traveling on foot or by donkey a distance of some twenty-five miles half the night Saturday in order to dance until morning, rest a little during the daytime, and then dance again Sunday afternoon and most of the night. At these dances young and old are equally active. Usually the older ones lead the dances and the young follow. As in most primitive societies, the premium is not upon youth and physical attractiveness but upon skill, and the repertoire of dances is so long and complex that only the older ones are competent to lead. Much, too, depends upon the dance. The Congo Pastoral is one of the very old dances with which many of the young are not familiar; but the meringue and the dances that have filtered in from Cuba and Santo Domingo, such as the bolero and the rumba, are taken over by the younger people. The farther one goes into the interior, the less popular become these newer dances of close bodily contact. My requests,

38

Dances of Haiti

based on names and descriptions found in early research literature, usually brought forth only the very oldest of dancers, and for them the local bamboche drummers usually had to be replaced by older men and the leader of songs by an older woman. Someone, anyone, takes charge of collecting kdb to buy clairin, the raw white rum that must flow freely at a bamboche; and if it is for a special occasion, the organizers will prepare a feast. If not, the neighborhood vendors of sweetmeats and marinades are notified of the affair and will sit on the outskirts in the smoky light of kerosene torches. In general, although there is no hierarchy of officials, there is a definite air of something more or less planned—more or less understood. Behavior and sanctions, too, are understood without any single person or body of persons to enforce them. One would not come here in the rags and half-nakedness that characterize the Ortofonik of Mardi Gras. If during the course of the night someone’s shirt and sandals are folded away in a sack under one of the sleeping babies, it is because of the influence of the dance and rum. The open indulgence in sexual license in the large roving Carnival bands is not sanctioned at the bamboches. Now and then couples withdraw to the shadow of a banana grove or seek some other seclusion for sexual embraces. After all, it is social dancing, and one’s behavior must be “‘social.” The dances, too, are not just accidental

outgrowths of an urge for personal expression; they are group dances according to a set pattern, and they necessitate a certain amount of skill in execution, the exhibition of which is another factor in bringing people together. This small-group dancing is then a half-organized party, a gathering grown out of a community need for relaxation, a pleasant means of satisfying gregarious impulses and providing contact between people of opposite sexes. It is planned and its chief authority lies in the most skilled performers, usually the elder, and in the mait-la-danse.

5. Organization of Dance Groups

39

The sacred boulé-zin of the kanzo, the crowd dances of Mardi Gras and rara, and the

small-group dances of the bamboche have clearly distinguishable social organization, ranging from very strict in the services. These are representative. There are also vodun organizations that operate under “presidents” in the north and in the town of Port-auPrince, and there is the combite organized under a work master and a song leader. Since my acquaintance with the dances of both of these specialized groups is very casual, a report on their social organization is not included here. There is every reason to believe that the dance given at the end of the combite would follow the same pattern of organization as the bamboche, with the work leader replacing the mait-la-danse in authority. Having met and talked with the president of the hounfor at Nan Campeche near the Citadel in Cap Haitien, I believe that her position would be similar to that of the mambo Degrasse at a service.

Mambo Sans Ami with the white bowl she uses to burn herbs in alcohol.

Functions of the Dances

6

TO DISCUSS adequately the functions of the dances, a few words must be said of the form. (The last chapter of this book treats the interrelation of form and function.) Definite patterns with distinct form can be distinguished only after months of actually participating in the dance and observing continually the significance of its emphasis on certain parts of the body, on floor pattern, on accent, on carriage of the head, and on

placement of the hands and arms. The accurate association of form with terminology requires the same level of observation and participation. The local use of descriptive terminology is an initial aid to recognizing the dance

form. Certain dances are danse gouillé, or collé, or dos-bas, or ’zépaules. Others are des

hanches, others are de pie, and still others are du ventre. Most of these terms refer to the

part of the body stressed in the dance, such as ‘zépaules, the shoulders, de pie, the feet, des hanches, the haunches or hips, and du ventre, the stomach. Gouillé describes the

twisting movement of the sexual dances of Carnival, collé describes the packed formation of the crowd dance, and dos-bas describes the low bending of the back in one of the religious dances, the yanvalou. Of greater scientific importance for purposes of analysis than any of the points discussed above is the dance’s function or community significance and importance as a social factor; that is, the role of the dance in the social structure. Here I will attempt to

analyze the nature and function of the three general categories of dance and their subdivisions as outlined at the beginning of this study, namely, the sacred, secular, and

41

42

Dances of Haiti

marginal. The sacred comprise group ritualistic dances and dances of individual symbolic representation. The secular and marginal include the seasonal crowd dances and social small-gathering dances. In discussing the relationship of the dance to the individual, the term psychological function will be used; the community and social significance of the dance will be spoken of as its sociological function. In a simple society lacking the artificial activities of modern urban life, the need for recreation and play is satisfied most completely by means of the dance. In Haiti this element of play and recreation reaches a climax in the seasonal dances of Mardi Gras and Carnival. All year the Haitian peasant dances for his loa, or he exhibits his skill in the Congo Paillete or the pignitte at the frequent bamboches. But during the year, lingering in the minds of both peasant and elite are pleasant, sensual recollections of the past Mardi Gras and eager anticipation of the coming one. The narrow conventions of the Haitian elite seem more tolerable because they can be relaxed during the several weeks of the Carnival period. This recreation or play element is one of the sociological functions of the seasonal mass dance; the people themselves think of it as a time for gaiety and humor, a time to forget everything but funmaking and play, a vacation from all that might be unpleasant in the social and economic structure, an escape from daily monotony, from gossip, from work, and, for the upper-class Haitian, from political intrigue and consciousness of economic pressure.

To serve as an agent of social solidarity might be said to be another sociological function of the Carnival dances. During the Carnival season, an entire population is gradually released from moral and civic obligations, and the diverse social, economic, and religious groups become closely united in a single mass activity. Heterogeneous as the wandering Carnival bands are, they intermingle vast numbers of people who, by indulging in similar activities with thousands of other people, become conscious of a

6. Functions of the Dances

43

unity, a social cohesion, a oneness with the crowd itself. During this time the Haitian

peasant experiences the widest range of partial integration that he is likely to realize during the entire year. Among the upper-class Haitians, age groups are formed (these are nearly always sex groups as well). Groups of people ordinarily hostile and reticent are brought together and made conscious of each other for the only time during the year. At Carnival time, age and sex groups transcend color-gradation groups, a true phenomenon in Haitian elite society. Ordinarily mulatto, griffe, and Negro are separated socially by barriers of varying degrees of subtlety. This unity of mass dance activity during Mardi Gras is further intensified in the work

societies, the combites, that often merge

into and form

separate units of Carnival bands. Common bonds of occupation and recreation form these societies into a sort of brotherhood even more firmly knit than the following of a nation or one of the loa families. The competitive element in these seasonal wandering bands also serves as an element in social cohesion. Particularly in the country a sort of community allegiance can be felt; and though one has free license to break away from one band and trail after another at will, my experience has been that the general preference is to remain within a reasonable distance of friends and favorite leader. Loose as to social structure and organization, the Carnival bands are strong in this element of social cohesion. In town it is not uncommon to remain for a day or two, or even longer, with a particular band because of appreciation for the professional dancer who represents it in the competitions. There may even be betting on the kings during the competition, and it is decidedly advantageous to become attached to the band of the most likely contestant. To release or to externalize energy is the psychological function of practically every dance which is not purely formal. This externalization may be voluntary or involun-

Dances of Haiti

44

tary; and the energy may be of joy, grief, anger, or sexual stimulus. Closely bound up with externalization of energy is the function of escape from emotional conflict through the dance, an escape that is a form of externalization, usually voluntary. Dancing as an expression of joy or sexual impulse or anger is usually involuntary. In the seasonal dance, primary gratification is derived from the complete externalization of inhibitions, an escape sanctioned by countrywide license. Study of a Carnival band also illustrates that active psychological functions act directly upon the individual; the Mardi Gras acts as both a stimulus and release of energy, chiefly sexual. This release process might be called sexual catharsis. In the Grand-Rue,

Port-au-Prince, the season of the mask becomes actually a season of un-

masking. Masked, or as part of a masked band, one is no longer oneself but is either the being represented in the mask or is merely a part of the crowd. The imposing majordomos march ahead, giving an air of regal respectability and fantastic unreality to the whole, and they are seemingly unaware of the hysterical merrymakers who follow. The

favorite masks are animal representations or exaggerations of physical propensities. It is common for men and women to exchange clothes, perhaps with the desire to satisfy homosexual inclinations. With nightfall, all possible remaining restrictions are automatically cast aside, and

the play element becomes decidedly orgiastic. A single ego, backed by several hundred people and, above all, by the set of sanctions known as esprit du carnaval, takes on the attributes of the entire group. A peasant, who ordinarily would be forced to show extreme respect for one of the elite class, now easily curses the same person in most expressive Creole. This is a complete shifting of values and release from inhibitions. Homosexual activity is very common to these mass bands. It is not at all unusual to see two men in the embrace of the gouillé dance. A person who, in everyday life, shows no

6. Functions of the Dances

45

abnormal inclinations will, under the increasing momentum of the Mardi Gras, seek out persons of his own sex for the erotic dances. The crowd intoxication and esprit du carnaval are of such force that, even though one may have entered the band with an indifferent attitude, after short contact with the excited mob, the single personality is lost and becomes a part of the collective personality. Externalization, catharsis, sexual stimulus, and sexual release seem to be the fundamental psychological functions of the seasonal crowd dance. There is every indication that at one time the seasonal dances were associated conceptually with some fertility cult (the planting season and emphasis on the sexual form of the dances), but this significance has been submerged in the function of sexual catharsis. The emphasis on this sexual function is confirmed by the increased birth rates at a reasonable time after Mardi Gras. Conversely, there is an immediate increase in deaths due to overexcitement and exposure. The psychological functions of the secular seasonal crowd dance are, in summary, the fulfillments of a play need, the externalization of energy, and the stimulus and release of sexual impulse, this last having been defined as sexual catharsis. The sociological function is to create social cohesion and solidarity, furthering social integration and, for society as a whole (most particularly for the government), releasing from

tension a people living under rigid economic, political, and (for the peasant) social pressures. The sociological functions of the social small-crowd dance are quite different from those of the seasonal large-crowd dance. It is at the social dance most often that one selects a mate. As opposed to the frenzy of Mardi Gras, the social dance involves a certain amount of propriety and purposeful selection rather than chance contact. One chooses only after careful consideration of skill and physical attributes. Whether the

46

Dances of Haiti

gathering be of the elite at Club Port-au-Prince or of the peasants under a tonnelle in the Plains of Cul-de-Sac, men and women develop the technique of the dance to as high a degree as possible in a deliberate effort at sexual attraction, either directly or indirectly. In these dances the audience becomes important as a determinant of gratification. This is in contrast to the purely subjective dancing of the Carnival bands (with the exception, of course, of the dances of the professional majordomos). The peasants themselves think of these dances as pou’ plaisi’ (for pleasure) although they must have some consciousness of their importance as vehicles of sex-attraction. The whole atmosphere of the bamboche emphasizes sexual distinction, demonstrated by the personnel of each dance through obvious efforts at personal attraction in both dress and manner. This opposition of sexes is illustrated in the pignitte, a dance gouillé sometimes dramatized by a symbolic buying of the favors of a woman dancer in the center of a circle of men. This dramatization is at times realistic to the point of using real money in the dance. This particular development of the pignitte is popular on the outskirts of Port-au-Prince. The martinique, the Congo Paillette, and the carabinien (contre danse) are set dances, wherein several men and women

face each other in two lines, with movement

and attention

directed to a partner. In these dances, the men and women each have a specific role— women to attract, men to pursue. Here popularity and thus sexual desirability are gauged by the approval of the audience (at times expressed as jealousy on the part of the women). Old people, well past the age of sexual activity, gain a maximum of pleasure from the prestige of authority, though I am not at all certain that appreciation by the opposite sex is not as highly esteemed by them as by the younger people seeking mates. Apart from sexual selection, the social dance has another very important function in the lives and culture of these people. This is the development of artistic values through the exhibition of skill. Always interested in perfection of technique, the Hai-

6. Functions of the Dances

41

tian peasant will willingly step aside to admire an exceptionally well-executed dance or a dancer of obviously superior training or ability. As I have indicated, there is no little jealousy of this capacity on the part of the audience of the same sex as the performer, but even so, this is constructive. Even more fundamental is the recognition of and appreciation for perfection that this uncomfortable emotion of jealousy stimulates. Yvonne was from Léogane, dance center of the island. She was undoubtedly one of the finest dancers I have ever encountered, and one of the most difficult to induce to

dance. Part of this was perhaps simply due to the temperament of the artist; another part of it was, by her own admission, a sensitivity to the jealousy that her dancing aroused in the women of this foreign community (the Plains of Cul-de-Sac). She presented a direct social danger with her highly developed technique, which aroused admiration in all men of all ages who saw her dance. Furthermore, Yvonne recognized this function of her skill and all of the accompanying complications. She realized that a display of such perfected dancing as hers would be interpreted as exhibitionism, and being well placée (living with a man of the community) she was loathe to risk the conflicts that might arise from her stimulation of other males. But in spite of those jealousies and conflicts, in the time during which I lived in this community I was able to observe distinct shifts in values and appreciations. The people of the Plains have never been outstanding for their skill as dancers, whereas their reputation as drummers is known over the whole island. Under the stimulus of Yvonne's rare dancing, they began to concentrate on the dance and made obvious efforts to improve their weaker points. It is possible that the premium on skill of execution of certain dances dies out in a community and must be revived by a single artist. It is through these social dances more than any others that the artist as such develops. The reasons are found in the premium set by the native on perfection, and in the importance of this group of dances as an instrument in sexual selection. Here also,

48

Dances of Haiti

because of the consciousness of the presence of an audience, individual needs for exhibitionism are gratified. These are ample rewards for development of technique, with resultant specialization to achieve the status of an artist. A more practical reason for the existence of the artist in social dance is the necessity for a mait-la-danse or someone to

lead the dance. Just as the Carnival band is led by the professional dancer, and the vodun ceremony is led by the houngan or mambo, the dancing itself must be in charge of experts, and a striving for this distinction produces the artist. The factor of social cohesion operates more directly in the small social dances than in the seasonal crowd dances, because of more homogeneous grouping. Being a small unit, the scope of integration is narrower at the bamboche, but a stronger community solidarity is achieved. The bamboche may be made up of as few people as the members of one or two habitations only. In addition to the sociological functions elaborated in the above discussion, the social dance has in common with the seasonal crowd dance the function of group intoxication, though it is not carried to such an extreme. It also shares externalization of energy, the stimulus and release of energy (the release of energy is subject to more restriction than in the Carnival dances and must follow normal social patterns), and the associated function of sexual catharsis. It might be well to reiterate the unique functions of the social small-crowd dance which are of a special nature over and beyond the functions of the seasonal large-crowd dance: 1. development of technique as an instrument of sexual attraction and selection; 2. gratification of exhibitionist tendencies through performer-audience relationship; 3. development of artistic values and appreciations; and 4. development of, and premium on, the nonprofessional artist (the highly trained Carnival king is professional).

6. Functions of the Dances

49

The religious dance has functions apart from those of the two groups of secular dances, though, as with the social small-crowd and seasonal large-crowd dances, some functions overlap. Special to the religious dances is their ritual character. Each dance is bound up with usages known only to the initiated, each with a definitive position in relation to the cult itself and to the fulfillment of the ceremony. Distinguishing between the general danse vodun and the dances special to the loa families and to the loa themselves is the first step in an analysis of the sacred dances. It would seem that the less active cults of Nago, Ibo, and some of the Congo cults are merging into the stronger Rada-Dahomey cult to the extent that in periodic dances which the priest or priestess may organize to prepare a community for a real service, or to gratify needs for worship in the form of the dance, the word vodun becomes inclusive, although vodun in its most restricted definition applies only to the cult Rada-Dahomey. There is still to be found, however, a clear distinction in cult worship, seen in both divination and ceremony in the regions of the south, the Plains, and the north where I attended actual ceremonies or discussed these problems with priests. The cult Pétro and some of the Congo cults are either so directly opposed to these other cults or are so independently active that they remain distinct both in the general danse vodun and in the specialized dances comprising the main part of the ritual procedure of a ceremony—such as the kanzo described earlier, or the Pétro baptismal service of the Christmas Eve attended in the Plains near Croix-des-Bouquets. Thus at a general danse vodun one might, during the course of the evening, dance for the most part dances of the Rada-Dahomey cult. Later might follow Nago, Ibo, Mahis, or Congo Fran (Frang, Fons) dances of other cults. It is conceivable that Pétro might be danced here, though

people of the true vodun cults (Rada-Dahomey) are rather skeptical of introducing this pantheon or hierarchy because of the danger of one of the less desirable Pétro gods

50

Dances of Haiti

entering the ceremony to take possession of one of their group, as happened in the case of Ciseau, who was possessed by Pétro Zandor while attending a Rada-Dahomey service. Only true followers of Pétro know the attributes of each of the Pétro gods, but it is generally known that many of them are violent and that some demand uncooked blood (which is unheard of in the Rada-Dahomey cult). It is even whispered that some of the Pétro gods, like the gods of the Congo Moundong and the god Wangol (Angola) known as Chef tout’ Congo (chief of all the Congo) mangé moun’ (eat people or demand human flesh as sacrifices). Let me hasten to say that I found no substantiation of these rumors of human sacrifice, and therefore I can neither deny nor verify them. For purposes of accuracy I shall, in further discussing the function of the sacred dance, refer to the dances that are a part of the actual service, where the cult distinctions are well marked. A danse ’zépaules begins the Rada-Dahomey service as a sort of purification of the air and preparation of the bodies of the devotees for the advent of the loa. The ’zépaules will, in the case of a Rada-Dahomey ceremony, be sung to the god Legba, gatekeeper and intermediary for the other gods. After the invocation to Legba, the type of ceremony determines which dance follows. There is a certain order for dances accompanying each of the ceremonies, whether they be ceremonies of initiation, for services ancétres or for services mangé loa (the former in honor of ancestors, the latter to feed or expiate certain gods). The officiating priest or priestess, in the capacity of diviner, decides which loa are predominant at a gathering, and which must be served by the dance. If a loa has not entered after dances dedicated to him are danced a certain number of times (usually three or five), the hounci

in charge will pass on to another loa. At a loosely constructed dance, she will consult other, lesser hounci as to which loa will be summoned next. Or participants, feeling a certain urge, may request dances for their loa, a request usually granted. These dances

6. Functions of the Dances

31

to summon a loa are known as rélé loa (from appeller, to call). For the native, their func-

tion is the calling of the god; to the anthropologist, the psychological function is the induction of hypnosis. The psychophysiological effect of these dances will be discussed in the next chapter. One of the subdivisions of the religious dance must be treated in a class apart because of its uniqueness. This is a group of dances, representative or symbolic, which indicates the presence of the loa in the individual. In other words, it is the loa that dances, not the individual. The person possessed has no recollection of his conduct or motor expression while under possession. Nevertheless, both dance and behavior are according to formula, so much so that an outsider, after frequenting the dances, can determine almost as readily as an official which loa has entered. The nearest approach to analyzing the function of the loa dances from the participant's point of view would be that they acknowledge unity with the mystére to such an extent that the body of the possessed becomes a temporary abode of the god. Possessions spoken of here refer to the orderly possessions of the initiated. For the uninitiated, a possession is bossale (one in an

unclean body). It is to be recognized by its violence, which may follow one of many courses, such as rolling over the ground in a state resembling epilepsy, often doing oneself physical injury. All loa have characteristic behavior, songs, and sometimes a special drum rhythm distinct from the drum rhythm of the cult. Each loa, however, does not have a special dance; his (or her) dance may fall into a large general group, such as the yanvalou, danced for Aida Ouedo, Erzulie, St. Jacques, certain of the Gedé loa, and many others. All of these may have, in addition, other dances danced for them, particularly the 'zépaules. Asaka and Agwé are, however, examples of loa for whom there are special symbolic dances so that, aside from the context of the song and the special behavior, one

32

Dances of Haiti

might recognize a possession by Asaka and Agwe because it is not necessarily danced while under possession. Variations on the yanvalou are highly stylized ritual dances to be done in honor of the snake god with the purpose of invoking his presence. They are executed only by two of the highest priests or priestesses. Asaka, loa of mountain and field in the Rada-Dahomey cult, and Agwé, loa of sea and water, perform dances representative of their domains. The devotees possessed of Asaka will, while dancing, bend low in the movements of planting or hoeing. Sometimes they will embrace the ground. Their movements are always awkward and crude to typify mountain people working in the fields. As reported from the services at the Des Cayettes, persons possessed of Asaka are immediately dressed in the garb of the mountain peasant—hat, smock and knapsack—and their behavior requires that they be treated as cousin, as the mountaineer calls himself. Agwé, on the other hand, dances in flowing

movements, introducing the motions of waves into the dance; the movement is at times half-swimming, half-representative of waves, but always symbolic enough of water to be recognized. It is not strange, when one realizes the role of suggestion in the structure of all religious cults, that Asaka is the possession most frequent to mountain people, and Agwé, to people near the sea; nor is it strange that, even under possession, dances as well as behavior are formal and according to set patterns. These dances just described might be spoken of as symbolic and representative, and as being of psychological rather than of sociological significance, with their primary function that of establishing a direct physical contact with the loa and of confirming the reality of the cult beliefs by this presence. One very specialized cult dance serves a function quite apart from that of any of the other dances of this category. Through it, by shifting from religious to sexual ecstasy, a persistent hypnosis or possession may be broken. Undoubtedly, the houngan themselves

6. Functions of the Dances

53

recognize the psychic danger from too long a period of intense ecstasy, or from too prolonged a state of coma. At given points of the dance, when conflicting loa are present and there is danger of jealousy or too much attention paid to one, or if it seems necessary to break a high point of tension, as after a long and arduous ceremony, the signal will be given to dance the maison, a dance characterized as gouillé. The maison acts as an emotional cathartic to those ridden by the loa, in much the same way that the seasonal dances act as a sexual cathartic. It is grotesquely sexual in movement and form; after its group performance, both the assembly and the individual are purged, as it were. The obstinate loa will have taken his departure during the maison, and the houngan, having gotten the situation in hand, may continue the ceremony or rélé other loa. After having been introduced into the privacies of the hounfor, I was able to confirm a belief that, just as there are ritual procedures made known only to hounci who are of the proper status to receive them, there are also other dances that are not for the profane but, as a part of secret rituals, are handed over to the hounci along with their formal training. The hounfor is at once the preparation school and the convent of the cult. These secret dances might well be the subject of further study, but to reach them is no small matter. Obviously they would be guarded as jealously from one who had not yet learned their ritual use as would any of the ritual secrets. In arriving at as accurate a knowledge of the religious dances as I have so far (which is by no means complete familiarity), the importance of one peculiarity of local reasoning cannot be overstressed. While it is possible to conceive of acquired ability and of the artist or professional dancer in secular dances, it is impossible for the officials and congregation of the sacred dances to conceive of a carryover of the ability to dance or of abstract technique as separated from ritual significance. One who could dance the ritual dance well after a short period of observation was surely no stranger, and was in

54

Dances of Haiti

possession of one or more loa, if not acquired, then hereditary. This faith in the external evidence of the presence of the mystére allowed me not only opportunity for a more accurate knowledge of the dance but also permitted more license in investigating the social and religious life. The most common outward expression of participation in a religious state for the Haitian peasant is the sacred dance. Therefore, motivation and direction of religious experience (and thus continuance of cult worship and cult solidarity) may be termed the primary sociological function of the sacred dance. The various forms of hypnosis, the achieving of a state of coma or religious ecstasy, and the submerging of one’s personality in that of the loa may be called psychological functions. The public cult dance does far more to bring about the necessity for initiation and to keep alive the importance of cult worship than would any organized form of missionary movement purporting to appeal to intellect alone. The rara, mentioned earlier as a seasonal crowd dance in connection with Mardi

Gras, and the dance known as the banda belong in a marginal area between sacred and secular on the chart below. The existence of other marginal cult dances was indicated, but at the time there was no opportunity for further exploration. My informants explained the banda, a funeral dance already described, as symbolic of procreation or, more commonly, as a dance to give pleasure to the spirit of the dead so that it will depart soon, well entertained. The functions of this dance can be more specifically explained as externalization of grief and escape from emotional conflict. For the primitive, dancing at periods of extreme grief is just as natural and essential as dancing at moments of excessive joy. The funeral dance serves to release the personal injury felt by friends and relatives at the loss of a loved one, and to furnish the mourners with a common means of expression, a common release mechanism. True, they may also weep, but

6. Functions of the Dances

55

at some time during the period of the wake, there will be rum drinking, storytelling, and erotic dancing. Regular rhythmic activity serves the function of an immediate emotional release, especially when accompanied by music and song and when, as in the maison, emphasis is on that section of the body which connotes sexual stimulus and release. The like emotions of anger and grief seem best relieved either by violent or by rhythmic motor activity; rather than tear his hair, or beat himself and roll in the dirt, as is the customary expression of grief with some peoples, the Haitian peasant dances. The dance may serve as direct externalization, or it may go the roundabout way of hypnosis and autointoxication. In either case, the end is achieved. The Haitian peasant funeral wake is apt to take on many of the external attributes of the bamboche, even to the free distribution of clairin. That the funeral dances are sexual is an aid to a quicker, more complete externalization and redirection of energy. A reaffirmation of community solidarity is one of the sociological functions of the funeral dance, while often cult participation is also evidenced in song and dance. These dual functions place the banda in its marginal position. As indicated earlier, the rara proper, relieved of its association with Carnival and Mardi Gras dances, is found chiefly in the country and is of a Christian religious significance. It is as though the Haitian peasant decided that at some time during the year the Christ of the itinerant priests should be formally recognized. Blowing a whistle, carrying a wand and a whip, and dressed after the manner of the Carnival majordomo, the lal-wa-di (leader) of the rara band trudges the rural roads with flag bearers and effigy

bearers. Their official step is also the chairo-pie of combite and Carnival. The meetings of bands and leaders is more salute than challenge, and though from time to time the bands stop to dance and are joined by others, the character of the dances is more in

56

Dances of Haiti

celebration than sexual catharsis, and the gouillé form may have the same death-procreation relationship as it does in the banda. There is a strong feeling of common purpose in the bearing of the effigy of Judas through the forty days of Lent up to Holy Week and in the final ritual burning on samedi saint. Like the banda, the rara is marginal between sacred and secular in function. Its form and group character serve many of the cohesive functions of the Carnival. Its religious nature serves the function of confirming the reality of religious beliefs. The following chart outlines the functions of the dances under the basic categories of secular and sacred dances. As has been noted, certain dances in each group have overlapping or marginal characteristics.

—)

UN

6. Functions of the Dances

re

FUNCTIONS

A

OF THE DANCES

OF HAITI

Secular OCCASIONAL, SOCIAL (small-crowd)

SEASONAL

(large-crowd) Play, recreation Externalization

of inhibitions

Externalization of energy Social cohesion Greater social integration

Sexual stimulus and release

Sexual attraction Sexual selection

Development of artistic values Development of the artist Social cohesion Gratification of exhibitionist tendencies

Sacred Cult Dances

Loa Dances

Ritual

Representation or symbol

of loa Secret ritual functions to induce and break

of loa Establishment of contact between individual and deity

Preparation for reception

hypnosis

Establishment of cult solidarity

Funeral

Dances

Externalization of grief

Escape from emotional conflict

Baskets of leaves and herbs used in making infusions for medico-magical purposes.

Interrelation of Formand Function

7

DISCUSSION of the interrelation of form and function of the dances involves a great deal of speculation. At times the relationship is asymmetric—in a single-line direction, form determines function and vice versa. Other actions between the two are symmetric, as in the case of the banda. Here the gouillé form causes externalization of grief,

but at the same time the function determines the form. With the large danse collé, the closeness and compactness of the mass engenders social cohesion, while at the same time the gregarious, recreational impulses and the desire to externalize and share experiences draw people together in mass form. For the most part, however, the form of the dances has a determining effect on the function, in lesser or greater degree. The carabinien or contre danse is a native adaptation of the European square dance. In this,

men and women face each other on four sides of a square and partners alternate frequently. The floor pattern is involved, and the formality of the dance is stressed. The principle of choreography as an agent of sexual attraction operates to a far lesser degree here than in the case of the Congo Paillette. The pattern of the Congo Paillette directs one man to one woman, and the movements are directly symbolic of pursuit and cap-

ture, without the formal embellishment of the changes of partner and elaborate choreographic pattern as in the contre danse. The form so far discussed refers to choreography of floor-pattern form in the sense of body emphasis and function. In my discussion of the function of the sacred dance, | point out that the dance is an essential in motivation and direction of religious ecstasy and thus is a continuance of cult worship. This is achieved by expression of the ethos of

60

Dances of Haiti

the cult, in the same way that observations as to the ethos and character of a people may be deduced from a general knowledge of the form of their dance. Priests of Pétro have, in some regions (namely, the environs of Léogane) submerged the purely religious function of the cult and have emphasized the working of magic, often “black” or of a destructive nature. In general, the cult Pétro is known for its violence and as a cult of blood. Even without having investigated the cult ethos, but only from a knowledge of the dance Pétro, I would be inclined to include it as evidence substantiating the violent character of the cult. The dance Pétro-magi may be called one of opposition. With force, it is necessary that the muscles of the back be rigid. It would seem that this produces an excitement quite apart from the hypnotic effect of dances of other cults and the sexual stimulus of other dances. The atmosphere of a true Pétro ceremony is hostile and negative. The possessions are apt to resemble frenzy rather than ecstasy. At the Pétro baptismal ceremony witnessed veille noél (Christmas Eve) in the Plains near Croix-des-Bouquets, the ignition of flares of gunpowder at a given time caused such pandemonium that the impulse of an outsider was to seek shelter until the various Pétro loa had vented their emotions and departed. There are fewer possessions by gods at a Pétro ceremony; the form of the dance apparently leads to uncontrolled motor activity or hysteria rather than to ecstasy or hypnotism. Undoubtedly, somewhere in the secret rituals of this cult are beliefs requiring force and an attitude of opposition to natural forces. Perhaps one of these is black magic. At any rate, the ethos of the cult is publicly expressed through this dance, and the solidarity of the cult is assured by the producing of similar effects in all of the worshippers. This seems to be a symmetric relationship between form and function, some of the ritual or social functions apparently determining this particular form. To illustrate again the effect of dance form on cult solidarity, we may examine the dances of the Rada-Dahomey cult, chief of them being the yanvalou. One of my Haitian

7. Interrelation of Form and Function

61

friends aptly termed the yanvalou the “prayer” of the vodun. The dancing of the yanvalou produces a state of ecstasy remarkably near that which the medieval Christian saints are supposed to have experienced through prayer and meditation. It would seem that the fundamental purpose of prayer is release from emotional conflict by an establishment of contact with some superior being, or by a complete externalization and loss of one’s ego in that of the essence or being with whom the communion is desired. The movement of the yanvalou is fluid, involving spine, base of the head, chest, solar plexus,

and pelvic girdle. The effect is complete relaxation. There is no tenseness or rigidity of muscles; instead, a constant circular flow acts as a mental narcotic and neural catharsis.

The dance is decidedly soothing rather than exciting, and one is left in a state of complete receptivity. It is in this state most often that contact with the loa occurs. Contrary to the Pétro cult, the Rada-Dahomey cult is known to be beneficient in nature. It has connected with it no bad loa, no loa whose demands would cause diffi-

culty or would willfully do harm. Nor does the cult practice magic. The houngan or mambo may indulge in divining, or in a little prescribing of amulets for an improvement of health or luck, but this is not directly associated with cult duties. In some instances, of course, divining is necessary ceremonially, and a worker of black magic would not be countenanced. Here we have the ethos expressed in the positive, flowing quality of the dance, as well as further substantiation of hypotheses as to psychophysiological effects of body emphasis. In this prayer dance I cannot say whether the condition of ecstasy is achieved more readily by the physical phenomenon of the completion of a circuit within the body (circular flow through spine, chest, and solar plexus) or whether, in a

state of acceptance, the contact with these loa. Another dance of But here the ecstasy is

mind and body are left freer to receive the suggestion of possible Perhaps both are equally true. religious ecstasy is the *zépaules, which stresses shoulder action. of a slightly different quality than in the yanvalou. It seems that

62

Dances of Haiti

the regular forward and backward and expanding of the chest ensure brings about self-hypnotism and action of the ’zepaules is less fluid excitement bordering on hysteria The

jerking of the shoulders and the rapid contracting quick, regular breathing. This forced rapid breathing autointoxication, states bordering on ecstasy. The than that of the yanvalou, and the effect is more of than ecstasy.

form of dances of sexual stimulation,

sexual release, and sexual symbolism

operates directly on these functions by emphasizing parts of the body associated with the sex act. In the danses des hanches, such as the Congo Paillette, the symbolism serves as a stimulus as much as the body emphasis. The effect of this symbolism was noticed after having danced the dance as an amusement without being conscious of the symbolism, and later dancing it with an understanding of the fecundation principle behind it. True, the agitation of the haunches is exciting, but it does not act as a sexual stimulus to the same degree as the gouillé and ventre (stomach) dances. The hip-twisting and stomach dances, on the other hand, seem to serve as a direct stimulus which, if participated in at length and under the impetus of the crowd, reaches a climax and then releases this tension. It would seem that the centering of movement and attention on the particular muscles involved serves to stimulate the particular sections of the nervous system involved, and that this stimulus reacts upon the form of the dance, causing it to become more vigorous and extreme. Undoubtedly, association of ideas plays a major part in these reactions; but any further discussion of the interrelation of this particular phase of form and function will have to be left to the psychologist.

CS

Pot têtes left at the altar in the custody of the priest.

Notes Introduction

Mm

RW

1. M.L.E. Moreau de St. Mery, “Danse,” Philadelphia, 1796, pp. 34-35. (Available in Readex Microprint edition of Early American Imprints, American Antiquarian Society, numbered 30816 in Evans’ American Bibliography, Vol. 10, 1795-1796.) 2. Katherine Dunham (as Kaye Dunn), “La Boule Blanche,” Esquire 12, no. 3 (September 1939):92-93, 158. . Moreau de St. Mery, “Danse,” pp. 48-50; English translation by the author here and at nn. 4 and 5. . Moreau de St. Mery, “Danse,” pp. 44-45. . Ibid., pp. 45-47.

ON

. Katherine Dunham, Journey to Accompong (New York: Henry Holt, 1946).

1. The Island of Haiti 1. Arthur Ramos, As Culturas Negroes no novo mundo (Rio de Janeiro, 1937). 2. Ibid. 2. The Vodun 1. J.D. Dorsainvil, Vodun et Nevrose (Bibliotheque Haitienne, 1931). 2. Degrasse, Julien, Teoline, Ti Cousin, et al. 3. The Dances: Their Divisions 1. Curt Sachs, World History of the Dance (New York: W. W. Norton,

1937), pp. 104-105.

65

Notes

66

4. Material Aspects l. Harold

169.

Courlander, Haiti Singing (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1939), pp. 168-

2. The lower jawbone of a horse or an ass, which, when allowed to dry, retains the teeth loosened in their sockets. When struck with the base of the palm, the teeth produce a twanging rattle. . Melville J. Herskovits, Lecture Notes, January to May

1937, Northwestern University.

4, Katherine Dunham, “The Negro Dance,” in The Negro Caravan, Sterling Brown, Arthur P. Davis, and Ulysses Lee, eds. (New York: Dryden Press, 1941; reprint ed., Arno Press and New York Times, 1969), pp. 990-1000. . In part of Haiti where the combite involves a society of workers, the size of the crowd often increases, as does the geographic radius covered.

6. Courlander, Haiti Singing, pp. 75-76. J

. Ibid., p. 133.

8. Laura Bolton, Melville J. Herskovits, Harold Courlander, Alan Lomax, and Jean Price-Mars.

Glossary abobo! — A

cry given during and after a dance or ceremony, same as “amen!”

Agwe (Agoué) — Vodun god, or loa, of the sea. Aida Ouedo — Wife of Damballah Ouedo; personifies the rainbow and water. Arada Pétro — Branch of the Pétro cult overlapping Arada gods. Asaka — Vodun loa of agriculture; also known as Cousin. asson — Instrument of the vodun. A gourd rattle ritually strung with snake vertebrae, coins, and trade beads; used by priest-, priestess-, and kanzo-level initiates.

baguette — Bow-shaped piece of wood strung with a cord for playing the seconde drum. Bakulu Baka (Bakula) — Vodun loa of the Pétro cult; inhabits animals as a malevolent spirit.

bamba — Social or marginal socio-religious dance of Haiti, known in other islands and southern states of America.

bamboche — Secular. Any big party with plenty to eat and drink. A dance always takes place during the party; to have a good time. Also, a category of social dances, including meringues, boleros, rumbas, danzôns, and pignittes, with much eating and

drinking.

bamboula — See bamba. 61

68

Glossary

banda — The name of a dance and also of an African tribe. bapteme

— Ceremony

to consecrate

objects,

instruments,

or initiates

in the vodun;

baptism. Baron Cimetière — Associate of Baron Samedi; one of the loa of death and cemeteries.

Baron Samedi (Sam’di) — Loa of the dead, companion to Gèdé (Guèdé). basse — A type of drum of manifest Spanish origin. See also tambou espaniol. baton — Ornamented wand of the Carnival “kings.” beguine — National social dance of Martinique, comparable to the meringue of Haiti and Santo Domingo. bolero — A social dance of Spanish origins. bossale — A neophyte; an uninitiated person; an unclean body. During colonial times this word meant a slave born in Africa arriving at the islands. boula — The smallest of the three-drum Rada set, beaten with two equal-length sticks. Also called kata or pitite (child). Boule Blanche — Public ballroom in Fort-de-France, capital of Martinique. boulé-zin — Trial-by-fire ceremony, which involves applying burning oil and cornmeal from sacred cooking vessels to the hands and feet. A trial to achieve kanzo, or second level, of vodun.

calebasse — A gourd from the calabash tree; dried, it is frequently cut in half and used as a bowl for ceremonial offerings.

Glossary

69

carabinien — A social dance (contre danse). It was in vogue at the time of the Independence of Haiti in 1804, blending African and colonial patterns. careme — Lent. Forty days beginning Ash Wednesday to Easter. Carnival — Celebration of Mardi Gras, beginning in Haiti weeks before the three-day culmination that ends on Shrove Tuesday. chairo-pie — Trudging step used by rara bands, Carnival, and combite groups to cover long distances; a half-run dance movement. chica — See bamba. clairin — A raw white rum. cloche — Bell attached to asson for use by priests and priestesses. collé — A dance movement consisting of face-to-face, close together body contact. combite — Cooperative work group among Haitian countrymen. The word comes from the Spanish convite, to invite. comparsas — Carnival line following more than one leader and marching in unison; probably Cuban in origin. congo — See bamba.

Congo Fran — Dance of the Congo sect. Congo Moundong — Cult sometimes associated with the Congo sect or the RadaDahomey sect of the vodun. Suspected by some researchers to have practiced cannibalism.

70

Glossary

Congo Paillette — Dance of the Congo sect, line of women and men approaching each other with sexual intent. Congo Pétro — Congo branch of the Pétro cult stressing malevolent loas. contre danse — Old French dance similar to the square dance; carabinien. couché(e) — Period of initiation during which the initiate lies flat on a leaf-covered dirt floor in a hounfor. Cousin — Vodun loa of agriculture, also known as Asaka. Also designates persons from the hill country. Damballa — Serpent god of the vodun religion, illustrated in dance by undulating back movements. danse collé — Mass dance in close body contact; special to the Carnival season. danse des hanches — Dances emphasizing hip, pelvic, and buttock movements, serving as sexual stimulation, release, and symbolism; mascaron, maison, Congo Paillette.

danse du ventre — Classification given to dances emphasizing the rolling of the stomach muscles; peculiar to Carnival and rara.

danse vodun — Any dance associated with the vodun ceremonies. danse ‘zépaules — Dance that begins the Rada-Dahomey service sung to the god Legba, gatekeeper and intermediary for the other gods, or any other dance stressing shoulder movements. danz6n — Social dance popular in the Caribbean, similar to the bolero. dignitaries — Officiating mambo or houngan, and lesser adepts of the vodun, from the temple where the ceremony is held or from other temples.

Glossary

ra

dos-bas — A dance movement, with the back low or down, parallel to the floor. Don Pedro (dan) — A dance described by Moreau de St. Mery, 18th century historian, in his account of vodun dances; probably the same as the Pétro. Erzulie — Loa of love. See also Grande Erzulie; mistress of Damballa.

Erzulie Dantor — One of the most powerful gods of the Arada-Pétro sect of vodun, stressing the malevolent aspect of Erzulie Freda. esprit du carnaval — Carnival spirit. Fran — See Congo Fran. Gedé — Vodun loa of the dead, companion to Baron Samedi; also known as Papa Gèdé. gens de couleur — Haitians of mixed European and African blood. gouillé — A hip movement movement.

in dancing.

A gouillade is an elaborate, grinding hip

granboe — A bamboo section used as a trumpet. Grande Erzulie — Oldest of the Erzulies. See also Erzulie. griffe — Color degree between mulatto and negre, or black. gros bouzin — Dance popular at Carnival time. The literal translation is “big prostitute.” Guinée — Guinea, Africa, or all west coast Africa encompassed in “Nan,” or “in.” See also Nan Guinin. guiro — Dried, notched, elongated gourd, the ridges of which are scraped rhythmically

with steel prongs.

72

Glossary

habitation — The Haitian version of the African compound, usually with a similar enclosure or fence surrounding a group of whitewashed wattle huts. haute-taille — Empress Josephine-style dress used even as late as my stay in Martinique for contre danses or elegant quadrilles; social gathering of gens de couleur. High waist, or belted under the breasts. hounci — The general name for a number of initiates into the vodun cult. There are hounci bossale, kanzo, and lavé-tête. Herskovits translates it as “wife of the god”; practicing followers. hounfor — A vodun temple. houngan — Male priest of vodun. hundjénicon — An initiate. His role is to direct the chorus in vodun ceremonies and

generally to assist the houngan.

John Connu (Canoe) — In Jamaica, and elsewhere in the Caribbean, the costumed majordomo or “king” who headed the Mardi Gras or Carnival bands was called “John Connu,” during and directly after colonial times. juba (djouba) — A dance of the Pétro group, popular also in the southern states of North America. kalenda — See bamba.

kanzo — The second degree of initiation between head-washing and the prise-de-l’asson. It implies a fire ordeal. kata — See mama.

Glossary

13

kob — A Haitian cent; derived from the Spanish cobre, meaning “copper.” la-lwa-di — Dance groups in activity around Lent, half profane, half ritual. Also called rara. langage — A ceremonial way of speaking; African dialects.

a mixture of Creole and real or pseudo-

lap mangé moun — Haitian Creole expression meaning “he eats human flesh.” lavé-téte — First level, or initiation, in the vodun in which the head is washed to remove any unwanted loa.

Legba — Also “Papa Legba.’’ Loa gatekeeper to the gods. Without passing by him, no god or loa may be approached. loa(s) (lwa) — God(s). macoute — Woven shoulder sack worn by Asaka (Cousin). Also a big stick, which gave the Haitian secret police, the Tonton Macoutes, their name. maison

(mazon) — A

specialized cult dance to shift from religious to sexual ecstasy,

grotesquely sexual in movement and form.

mait-la-danse — Master of the dance. Self-appointed head during bamboches; usually one of the best dancers in the neighborhood and approved by the congregations as such. mama, seconde, kata — Set of three sacred drums used in Rada-Dahomey ceremonies. mambo — A vodun priestess equal in power to the houngan.

14

Glossary

mambo-asegue — The highest level of initiation awarded a priestess. mana — Of Melanesian origin. The spirit that invades all objects and things and is responsible for good and evil in the universe. Reminiscent of “fate.” mangé (majé) moun’ — To eat (be an eater of) human flesh. Mardi Gras — Shrove Tuesday. Last day before the fasting season of Lent. In some Roman Catholic countries, the custom of holding carnivals for Mardi Gras has continued since the Middle Ages. Carnivals with spectacular parades, masked balls, mock ceremonials, and street dancing usually begin a week or more before Mardi Gras.

marimbula — A boxlike instrument on which the player sits. In front is an opening across which are fastened steel thongs of varied length and corresponding tone differences; used in Haitian bamboches. Known in Cuba, Santo Domingo, and Africa.

marinade — A small fried pancake made of batter, garlic, parsley, and codfish. Maroon(s) — Escaped slaves who fled to the hill country and established isolated com-

munities; also their descendants, who form large communities in the hill country of Jamaica.

martinique — A Pétro dance but may be found at Rada ceremonies; similar to the juba. meringue — The most popular social dance in Haiti, differing from the Dominican meringue by its rhythm. mort — Lifeless state; dead.

mystéres — Creole term for gods; synonym for loas, or saints. Nan

Guinin — “From far-away Guinea” (Africa). In Guinea.

Glossary

5

nation (nasiô) — A group, family, or clan of loa. ogan — Sacred iron instrument used to mark time at dances and ceremonies.

Ortofonik (Otofonik) — A big street band in Port-au-Prince that plays on Sunday nights during Carnival and the Monday and Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. The same musicians play from year to year, but anyone can join the dancing. Palais Schoelcher — Public dance hall in Fort-de-France, capital of Martinique, at the time of this research. Papa Gédé — See Gèdé. Papa Legba — See Legba. paquettes — Doll-like, round-bellied figures wrapped in colorful satin; full of many magic and spiritual powers. Used by the Congo cult. Pétro — An important cult of the Haitian vodun, usually violent and negative. Pétro-magi — A dance of the Pétro cult, for magic. Pétro Zandor — Vodun loa companion to Erzulie Dantor. pignitte — Social dance; may enter, infrequently, at the end of ceremonial dances.

placé(e) — A common-law marriage, found more often than marriage among peasants and proletariat. pot téte — A small porcelain pot with a saucer and cover, in which are placed the smaller and more personal objects of initiation; housed in the initiate’s hounfor.

pou’ plaisi’ — Done for fun, pleasure.

16

Glossary

prise-de-la-cloche — An believer

receives

initiation

degree

above

the bell, which

is held

with

kanzo

and

prise-de-l’asson.

the asson in one

hand

rhythmically to accompany songs or to emphasize litany or possessions.

prise-de-l’asson — An initiation degree in vodun. The which enables him to call and send back loa.

and

The used

initiate receives the asson,

prise-des-yeux — The highest initiation degree in vodun; clairvoyance.

Rada — One of the three great cults of the Haitian vodun. From Arada, tribe.

a Dahomean

Rada-Dahomey — Cult of the vodun stressing beneficent gods. rara — Street dances and dance groups with characteristics of both sacred and secular dance, associated with the Lenten season, after Carnival. They go on from late night until early morning. rélé loa — Dance performed to invoke or call a specific loa. seconde — See mama; middle Rada drum. semaine sainte — Holy Week, last week of Lent. service — A vodun ceremony. Services ancétres are ceremonies honoring services mangé loa are ceremonies held to feed or expiate certain gods.

ancestors;

son — A popular Latin American, Caribbean, and Mexican ballroom dance. tambou espaniol — Tambourine-like drum, both sacred and secular, played in Haiti

by drawing thumb of hand in rapid spiral motion to make a sound resembling a bull roarer; also shaken as a tambourine.

Glossary

01

tonnelle — A shelter consisting of poles supporting a flat roof of straw or palm leaves, for ceremonial or secular dances. tres — Six-stringed Spanish guitar most popular in Puerto Rico. vaccine — Bamboo tube used as a trumpet. The vaccine set is of three tubes of different sizes, each giving a different single note. vaudoux — An alternate spelling of vodun, of which there are several; also, vaudun, vodu, and voodoo.

veille noél — Christmas Eve. vendredi saint — Good Friday; the Friday before Easter. vévé — Á magic design drawn upon the ground, ordinarily with corn flour; each loa has his particular vévé. vodun (voudú) — Religion of Haiti based on African animism. Belief in an almighty

god and a hierarchy of lesser gods. Word originating in Dahomey meaning god.

Wangol — Vodun god of the Angola Congo cult believed to demand human flesh as sacrifices. yanvalou — A religious dance honoring Damballa; low, undulating movements, usually in 3/4 or 6/8 time.

’zepaules — Vodun dance of Legba, or other loas, emphasizing rapid shoulder movement. zombi — Soulless, but able to work. A supposedly dead person brought back to life by magic (famous in Haitian folklore), or induce a trance-like state.

a person fed certain foods or potions to

78

Glossary

Publisher’s note: We have tried to stay as faithful to the original manuscript as possible in the spelling of the Creole words. We do note, however, that the spelling is occasionally inconsistent, alternating between the etymologic and the phonetic and sometimes even mixing the two in the same word. We note also that sometimes the French version of the word is used although more frequently it is the etymologic spelling of the Creole word which is employed. In the majority of these cases in which we have changed the original, we have, for the sake of consistency, employed the etymologic spelling of the Creole word. This does not imply a preference on our part for the etymologic over the phonetic mode of spelling Creole. It simply reflects the author’s preponderant use of it over the rival mode. Some alternate spellings are given in parentheses.

The vodun dance takes place under the tonnelle, a thatched shelter. A woman dips gracefully as she executes a difficult dance step. The chicken is a sacrificial offering.

A male dancer shows off his skill as he dances over a ceremonial drum.

Mambo Sans Ami draws a vévé on the floor.

An initiate dancing.

Katherine Dunham

was the first artist to ex-

plore and use for dance the anthropological and

ethnological origins of her race. Paying tribute to her

seminal contribution when she received the Albert

Schweitzer Music Award in 1977, Walter Terry of Dance Magazine wrote that “the course of dance

in America has been plotted by three ‘mighty matri-

archs’—Duncan, St. Denis, and Dunham.” In 1981 her life and works were profiled in an hour-long telecast, ‘Divine Drumbeats: Katherine Dunham and Her People.” She worked with her own company in Hollywood and on the concert stage in this

country and later abroad from 1947 to 1967. The

author of six books, she published her most recent work, Kasamance: A Fantasy (Okpaku Communications), in 1974. Miss Dunham earned the Bachelor of Philosophy degree from the University of Chicago in 1938 and continues to pursue a life of research in social anthropology. She has received numerous honorary degrees over the past ten years and is one of five

distinguished artists to be honored at the Sixth Annual John F. Kennedy Center Honors gala

events of December 1983, in recognition of her lifetime contributions to American culture through the performing arts. CENTER

FOR AFRO-AMERICAN University of California

STUDIES

Los Angeles, California 90024

ISBNO-913L93L-17-? ISBNO-93L93L-212-8

(PBK)