LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 572.05 FA N^. 56-58 The person charging sponsible for its retui which it was withdr; Latest Date stamped Theft, mutilation, and under for disciplinary action and i the University. To renew call Telephone Centi UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIE re- rom the iosons from -O-1096 )27 ) THE SOCIAL CONTEXT OF ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND PHILLIP H. LEWIS FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 58 Published by FIELD MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY MAY 29, 1969 The Library of tii« MAY 15 1972 University of Illinois nt Urbgng-ChiTtnaipn FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY A Continuation of the ANTHROPOLOGICAL SERIES 0/ FIELD MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY VOLUME 58 FIELD MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY CHICAGO, U.S.A. 1969 THE SOCIAL CONTEXT OF ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND Woman makes payment to view malanggans while patron watches in Nou, New Ireland, March 10, 1954. P. H. Lewis negative number 3508. THE SOCIAL CONTEXT OF ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND PHILLIP H. LEWIS Curator, Primitive Art and Melanesian Ethnology FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 58 Published by FIELD MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY MAY 29, 1969 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 71-8376If PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY FIELD MUSEUM PRESS Contents PAGE List of Illustrations iii List of Tables iv Acknowledgements 7 Introduction 9 Chapter I. Meaning 17 II. Social Organization in Northern New Ireland 25 III. Malanggan Ceremonials 45 IV. A Description of Art in the Notsi Area in 1953-54 77 V. Persistence and Change in the System of Malanggan 146 Conclusions 169 References 177 Index 183 List of Illustrations Frontispiece. Woman makes payment to view malanggans FIGURE PAGE 1. Map showing Friederici's linguistic divisions of New Ireland 26 2. Map showing the linguistic classifications of New Ireland of Friederici, Kramer, Stephan and Lewis 29 3. Map of settlements in the Notsi linguistic area and vicinity 31 4. Plan of Lesu in 1929-30 and in 1954 33 5. Map of Nou, 1954 49 6. Inlet at Nou, 1954 50 7. Libba men performing the tsur rite 51 8. Eruel, wearing the Nit Kulegula mask, standing with the initiated boys and their female relatives while Daniel Muk makes a speech .... 62 9. Pigs being cut into pieces for distribution 67 10. The course of Malanggan ceremonies as seen by Kramer, Peekel, Powder- maker and Lewis between 74-75 11. Head of the Malanggatsak malanggan 76 12. Detail of construction of torso and arms of the Malanggatsak malanggan 79 13. Body of Malanggatsak malanggan set up on log 80 14. Display house showing Nit Kulegula mask, and the Malanggatsak, Pu'ling and Labui malanggans 81 15. Kinship relationships of Malanggatsak malanggan 82 16. Gas malanggan in display house 85 17. Kinship relationships of Gas malanggan 87 18. Kinship relationships of Labui malanggan 90 19. Greeting the Luburua contingent at Nou 91 20. Tagapa malanggans in display house 93 21. Tagapa malanggan, showing construction of body before painting ... 94 22. Close-up of Tagapa malanggan head without headdress 95 23. Kinship relationships of Tagapa malanggan 97 24. Wowora malanggans in display house 99 25. Details of wooden centerpiece of Wowora malanggan 100 26. Kinship relationships of Wowora malanggan 102 27. Grave with concrete slab, mirror, and display house with Walik-Mante- lingling malanggan at Sali 113 28. Nit Kulegula mask at Nou 115 29. Kinship relationships of Nit Kulegula mask 117 iii FIGURE PAGE 30. Tatanua type mask from Field Museum 119 31. Pi masker and costume at Nou 122 32. Lingi holding Pi mask 123 33. Pi masker and costume at Lesu 124 34. Pi masker being paid tobacco and money 125 35. Pi masker being costumed at Nou 127 36. Pi masker being costumed at Nou 129 37. (a) Kinship relationships and transmission of rights to Pi masks, (b) Trans- mission of Kusis's Pi mask rights 131 38. Kinship relationships and transmission of rights to Ureng's Pi mask . . 132 39. Kinship relationships and transmission cf rights to Labele's Pi mask . . 133 40. Dancers in Sogumbua dance 137 41. Roman Catholic church, Lesu 141 42. Interior of Roman Catholic church, Lesu 141 43. Methodist church, Lesu 142 44. Grave in Roman Catholic cemetery, Lesu 143 45. Government school buildings, Lesu 144 46. Classification cf different kinds of art seen by Walden, Kramer, Peekel, Powdermaker, and Lewis between 146-147 47. Malanggatsak malanggan, old and new 152 48. Malanggatsak malanggan, old and new 153 49. Malanggatsak malanggan, old and new 155 50. Labui malanggan, old and new 157 51. Labui malanggan, old and new 158 52. Labui malanggan, old and new 159 53. Gas malanggan, old and new 160 54. Gas malanggan, old and new 161 List of Tables PAGE Clans represented in Lesu in 1929-30 and in 1953-54 34 Population of New Ireland, 1922-57 and numbers of New Irelanders work- ing inside and outside New Ireland 36 Numbers of persons residing in Lesu in 1929-30 and in 1953-54 and num- bers of persons working 37 Acknowledgments This work is published here largely as written as a doctoral dis- sertation submitted to the Department of Anthropology of the Uni- versity of Chicago in 1966. I take this opportunity to express thanks for the many different kinds of assistance this work has received. As mentioned below the fieldwork was undertaken under the auspices of the Australian National University and was supported by a Ful- bright scholarship. Much of the subsequent work I continued as a staff member of Field Museum, whose support is gratefully acknowl- edged. In particular, I especially thank Donald Collier, Chief Curator of the Department of Anthropology, for his sympathetic support, advice, and interest both as my administrative superior and as a colleague. For guidance in wi'iting my dissertation I thank the mem- bers of my doctoral committee, Fred Eggan, McKim Marriott and Lloyd Fallers, of the University of Chicago. During the time spent in the field in New Ireland, many local people helped in practical matters and thanks are given here to the Territorial government in Kavieng, especially to the then District Commissioner for New Ireland, Mr. Acheson, his Assistant Dis- trict officer, Mr. Hayes, to Mr. Folks of the Department of Educa- tion, for courtesies extended to my wife and to me. Transportation, hospitality, even loaves of freshly baked bread came from Father Zimmer of the Sacred Heart Mission, Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Hill of Dahill Plantations, and our neighbor, Mrs. Grose of Poliamba plan- tation. Finally, and of course most importantly, I must express thanks and appreciation to our gracious hosts, the subjects of the inquiry, the people of New Ireland with whom we lived, associated and worked ; pleasant, amiable, generous people who patiently and good- naturedly suffered us to live among them, who answered our ques- tions, and tried to teach us many things about themselves. I hope that I have not revealed matters that they may still hold secret, and I hope that what is written here will be received by them with pleas- ure. Most of all I hope it will be possible to return to New Ireland and go further and deeper into the matters begun in this work. ^ Introduction A major source of misunderstanding in the study of primitive art is failure to see art as part of on-going socio-cultural systems. Spe- cific art objects, usually from imperfectly or poorly documented mu- seum collections, are considered against general backgrounds. It is rare when specific art objects are observed in context of manufacture and use and, consequently and understandably, the nexus between art and society is rarely treated satisfactorily in the literature of primitive art. This study deals with art in context, and has been based upon field observation of manufacture and use of art in on-going social life, as well as upon the more usually utilized museum collections and ethnographic literature. Thus, specific art objects were seen in spe- cific context, and furthermore, in some cases were also linked to specific museum objects and those mentioned in the literature. These data have made it possible to see aspects of art not usually dealt with in primitive art, namely, the scope and nature of the total sys- tem of art and the relationship of the major art form to that system. This art system and the malanggan system within it was found to be intimately meshed with the social system in that it is possible to speak of a social context of art, i.e., that portion of the total social system in which the art is made and used. A major and substantive result of this study is the realization that social context of art is a kind of meaning, different from, but coin- cident with, subject matter, or iconographic meaning. Contextual meaning seems to be as important as, or perhaps even more impor- tant than, subject matter in understanding what New Irelanders think of their art, and furthermore, promises to provide a more use- ful basis of comparison with the arts of other peoples than does sub- ject matter. Not only is the social context of art the locus of the relationship between art and society, but it is a main junction point of the process by which the art forms are transmitted through time and space. Thus, social context of art is a crucial part of the rela- tionship between art and culture, as well as that between art and society. 10 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 It has been possible to observe the functional integration of a number of specific art objects in their social context, to collect most of these objects and place them in the Field Museum of Natural History, to recognize in the Museum's collections older versions of them, and to find mention of them in the ethnographic literature. Also, it was possible to see the art system of a northern New Ireland community in 1953-54 and compare the art of that time with that from other time periods. Since 1954 I have been studying one of the largest New Ireland collections in the world, at the Field Museum, and have also seen New Ireland art and other material culture in the major United States museum collections and in some European mu- seums. In much of the literature on primitive art there is a gap be- tween museum specimens, on the one hand, and the ethnographic literature, on the other. That is to say, there are art objects from New Ireland in the museums of the United States, Europe, and Aus- tralia and parallel to this is ethnographic literature about New Ire- land. One does not explain the other. Historical relationships between the literature and the museum collections seem quite lack- ing. It is beyond the scope of this work to treat exhaustively the societies and cultures of New Ireland so that the total social and cul- tural system can be dealt with. It is similarly beyond the scope of this work to describe and analyze the total art system of all of New Ireland. However, it is important to establish that such goals are possible. It is assumed that the existing museum collections and ethnographic studies are representative of New Ireland. This is a misconception and has led commentators to make erroneous state- ments about the homogeneity of the art and the art systems of New Ireland. The deficiencies that this study seeks to correct are partly meth- odological and partly substantive. The contribution it seeks to make toward methodology for the study of art lies in an attempt to pursue a co-ordinated approach, involving critical evaluation of the ethno- graphic literature, observation and consideration of museum speci- mens and field work. By applying this method, it has been possible to make a modest substantive contribution to our knowledge of the nature of the system of art in New Ireland. The view of New Ireland culture gained from the pre-existing literature and from museum collections was simplistic. To have gone into the field and then back again to the literature and the collections has been most illuminating. The differences of form and of type of object among museum collections became much more clearly a matter LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 11 of sub-regional variation and of functional variation within one area than it seemed before. Rather similar types of masks with seemingly idiosyncratic variation came to be seen as sub-regional variations. The same motifs, the same types of masks simply were being made in different parts of New Ireland in differing styles. Thus, another substantive result is that it can be shown that there have been gaps and omissions of content in the literature, in which there has been failure to see significant variability and the reasons for it in New Ireland art and societies. This was in part a failure to see a quality of New Ireland society, that of the fragmentation of the total pop- ulation of the island among the numerous sub-cultural units, each one of which is more or less independent of the others, and each of which had different approaches to solving its social, ceremonial, and artistic problems. New Ireland was chosen as an area in which to study primitive art from several Melanesian areas well represented in the enormous Melanesian holdings of the Field Museum of Natural History. It was not expected that on-going production and use of art would still be observable in 1953-54. Rather, it was thought that an area repre- sented by large museum collections could be studied, even if the art were completely dead, in a post mortem study of its demise. My wife, Sally, and I were enabled to go to New Ireland and reside there for seven months, from September, 1953 until March, 1954. New Ireland was a good choice of area. The Field Museum has a very large collection of New Ireland art and material culture, num- bering some 2700 pieces, by far and away the largest collection of such material in the United States, the next largest collection being that at the American Museum of Natural History, New York, with about 300 pieces. Large European collections exist, mostly in Ger- many. Thus, a corpus of museum material of considerable size exists today, perhaps numbering about 10,000 pieces in all, which can be studied and related to previous ethnographic work and to any which can follow. _ New Ireland art is very rich in form. It is a sculptural art which features exuberantly curving filigreed wood-carving, which is painted, along with extraordinary constructivism, i.e., the use of a host of added materials ranging from shells of marine animals to sponges, twigs, feathers, and the like. In subject matter. New Ireland art features men, real and supernatural, in juxtaposition with animals, such as birds, snakes, fish, and with plant forms. Its subject matter is psychologically interesting, showing genitalia transformed into fish 12 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 and snakes, and with hermaphroditic figures from central New Ire- land. It is a fantastic art which has been called "surrealistic." With- out exaggeration, New Ireland art can be considered as one of the most intriguing of the major art styles of so-called primitive art. In short, the size and quality of the museum collections of New Ireland art, and the nature of the art itself comprised a very rich and rewarding corpus of art objects around which library and field re- search was undertaken. Although it was possible that the art sys- tem of less acculturated living societies could have been studied, as, for instance, in highland New Guinea, the opportunity to illuminate museum collections was deemed to be of greater value. The primary ethnographic literature is that resulting from first- hand observation of New Ireland, and is comprised of the various works of Kramer, Stephan, Walden, Peekel, Friederici, Parkinson, Biihler, Chinnery, Powdermaker, and Groves. The secondary sources are interpretative in that the writers have commented upon the pub- lished results of the primary observers, but also, upon museum speci- mens and collections from New Ireland. These writers include Kaep- pler, McCarthy, Linton and Wingert, Leach, Guiart, Tischner, Bo- drogi, Hesse, and Girard. Generally speaking, the view of New Ireland culture which can be gained from the primary literature is far from complete. The differences in theoretical bias from the German workers of the early 1900's to Powdermaker and Australian workers of the 1920's and '30's are such that it is rather difficult to relate them to each other. The best of the German work, that of the Naval Expedition, was pre- mature in attempting to formulate overall island-wide views of New Ireland culture with insufficient data, while lesser work, like Peekel's, was marred by a priori assumptions of sun-moon symbolism. The later work of Powdermaker was very a-historical, to the extent that the previous efforts of the Germans, although somewhat peculiar, Ipvv^ere virtually ignored. The work of Powdermaker and Groves does not rest upon or broaden the view of New Ireland culture of the earlier workers, but instead, provides several isolated views of segments of total New Ireland culture. It is thus little wonder that the secondary I commentators, who must work from the primary sources, get so far L afield. The museum collections and specimens which are commented iipon by these writers also do not indicate island-wide relationships. At best the available documentation gives provenience of specimens, more often than that, no specific provenience is given. The total corpus of art objects and material culture from New Ireland is thus LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 13 typically thought of as a homogeneous universe, and determinants of variation are sought in personal idiosyncracies of artists rather than in the more reasonable explanation that there may have been considerable sub-regional cultural and social variation. One kind of problem which has been especially obscured in these deficiencies of the primary sources and in the attendant secondary interpretations, has been that of the nature of the system of art as it may have been distributed in time and space, both over all of New Ireland and in more circumscribed specific localities. First, it is very difficult to learn, from the literature, the boundaries in space of sig- nificantly different art areas in New Ireland, and quite impossible to see the operation of a system of art through time. Second, it is equally difficult to see from the literature variations and fluctuations of the different kinds of art in space and time, and the relationships which may have existed between them. Thus it must be said that I found it difficult to gain from the literature a clear idea of the overall nature and workings of the art system of New Ireland, the system which produced the art objects in the museums. Before going to the field it was thought that field work would be the means by which meanings, uses, and contexts for the museum objects could be found. After being in the field, it can be said that the field work has been invaluable for gaining insight into the above problems, but the scope and kind of field research required is different from that actually conducted. When the opportunity arose to go to the Australia I was already familiar with various Melanesian collections of the Field Museum. In addition to New Ireland, the following areas were considered: The Gulf of Papua, the Sepik River area of New Guinea, the Gazelle Peninsula of New Britain, the Admiralty Islands, and the Solomon Islands. Grateful thanks and credit for assistance in the field work are hereby given to the Australian National University, which, by insist- ing that its students go into the field, established the situation en- abling the Fulbright organization in Australia to divert monthly subsistence payments into a lump sum which permitted equipping a field expedition. I was also fortunate in having been able to study at Canberra with the late Professor S. F. Nadel, to attend seminars, and to be able to hear his lectures on field method. Four months were spent in such study and in preparation before going to the field, seven months in the field, and one final month at the University upon return. 14 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 The decision was made to go to New Ireland where field conditions were good, there being no political or other turmoil in the area. My wife, Sally, accompanied me to the field. In addition to some an- thropological training at the University of Chicago, at Canberra she learned to administer Rorschach tests and also assisted with the general ethnographic observations (Lewis, S., 1957). My wife and I arrived in Kavieng, New Ireland on September 3, 1953 and stayed there until September 9, during which time official records were seen in the District Commissioner's office. On the basis of see- ing these records, it was decided to go directly to Lesu. On Septem- ber 10, 1953, we arrived at Lesu, 82 miles from Kavieng, and settled in the government rest house. Some facility in the use of Melanesian Pidgin English had been gained by studying Murphy (1949) and Hall (1948). Pidgin was spoken by everyone over the age of about four years, and although there were several English-speaking persons in the village, Melane- sian Pidgin was used as the language of inquiry.^ Pidgin was quickly learned and all inquiries were canned out in that language, except for taking down some texts in the native language, Notsi. Although the usual objections to the use of Pidgin are certainly valid, there were advantages in its use. The numerous languages would have been difficult to learn, and Pidgin did enable speaking to any New Irelander, indeed to any Melanesian encountered. Also, Pidgin trans- lates w^ord for word from the Notsi language, being quite close to the Melanesian languages structurally. In 1953, from all available information, it seemed that there would be little or no on-going art and contextual ceremonial life, and gen- eral ethnographic observations of Lesu were undertaken, using Pow- dermaker's 1933 study of Lesu as a base line. However, after several months of such study, during the course of which one memorial ser- vice without malanggan ceremonies occurred, the Libba malanggan ceremonials began. It was soon clear that there was still a living and functioning art system. At that point, November, 1953, attention was shifted from the general ethnographic study at Lesu to the more specific observation of the malanggans at Libba. Observation of on- going ceremonials in the context of which art w^as being produced took precedence over general ethnography, but, unfortunately, what was also needed was more general ethnography based upon Libba rather than Lesu. ^ All Melanesian Pidgin words used in this study are indicated by enclosing them in single quotes; thus 'carpenter' (wood carver). LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 15 Almost seven months of residential study in the Notsi linguistic area were completed on April 1, 1954. After returning to Australia and then to Chicago, the major methodological problem began to be formulated; how to relate the field data to the literature and to the museum collections. What was seen in the field was only a fragment of the totality of the art system of New Ireland. Informants had expanded this view with their remembrances of malanggan and masking experiences in the past, and in other nearby parts of New Ireland. When further study of the literature and the museum col- lections was undertaken, it was found that the amount of substantive new information gained in the field was small but a viewpoint had been gained from which it was possible to see the total system of art in New Ireland. It seemed to be more complex, variable, and open- ended than any commentators had previously described. Thus the field work had opened the possibilities that an on-going system of art could be seen historically, and the workings of the major art expression of northern New Ireland, malanggan, could be seen. The realities of field work also led to the problem of social con- text as meaning. Conventional approach to meaning, i.e., inquiry into the iconography of the art can best be made with familiarity with the language, culture, and environment. I asked, "What is the fish being held by the man? Why does he hold him?" etc., but the answers were superficial without being related to other as- pects of the culture. However, the connotational meanings gained | by the art objects as they were made in the midst of on-going socio- 1 ceremonial life and by their utilization in the ceremonies seemed more I ^l}^ accessible to study, because they were linked to the data actually — ' being collected. It is not proposed that iconographic meaning not ^ be studied, since it is very important for understanding the art, but / rather, that iconographic study should be carried out only after the S- social context is understood. Thus, I found myself seeking for, and — ' finding, significance for art in the social context, and came to the con- clusion that New Irelanders also were concerned with contextual meanings. They, of course, knew the subject matter, but since it tended to be repeated, was taken for granted. On the other hand, the aspect of the ceremonies which changed from one time to another was the specific social grouping, the actual individuals involved, the details of the payments, the feasting and exchanges. Thus, the sen- sibilities of New Irelanders, when confronting their art, were sharp- ened to the social and contextual aspects of the total presentations. ^^ 16 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 This assignation of the sensibility of New Irelanders is a hypo- thetical construction, by myself, stemming in part from the bias of the study but also from negative evidence. I observed little verbal- ized concern of New Irelanders with subject matter, but did see, on the other hand, concern expressed in talk, and in action with the preparation and execution of the ceremonies, feasts, and ex- clianges. Thus, although social contextual meaning is here being read into the thoughts and feelings of New Irelanders, their observed involvement with that context suggests real concern with it. This study will thus deal with art and society in a part of northern New Ireland in such a way that the system of art, and especially the ,art of malanggan, will be illuminated. The materials used are the ethnographic literature, museum collections, and original field obser- i^vations. The method employed is one which attempts to relate these several kinds of data to each other. I say that New Ireland art is imbued with a kind of connotational meaning from the social context in which it is made and used, and that the workings of a system of art in New Ireland can be discerned, a major part of which is malanggan. The following presentation and discussion of data will attempt to make these contentions plausible. If they can be made to seem reasonable, it seems to me that some substantive and methodological contribution to the study of art will have been made. .i2^ Chapter I Meaning Art, by virtue of being a part and product of the religious and social life of man, and because it expresses many of his deepest feel- ings and thoughts is thoroughly intertwined and enmeshed with re- ligion, with ritual, with society, and with many other important aspects of life. These relationships, in their complexity, in their great and small determining effects upon art, are in their totality the meaning of art. Meaning in its broadest implication is extra-phe- nomenal relationship, that is, it is related to the phenomenon art, from and to other phenomena external to the art object. Meaning may be painted, carved or otherwise worked into any material object consciously and deliberately, by repeated association of one phenom- enon with others. Thus, art objects have meanings deliberately built into them, which are conveyed to an intended public, but, at the same time, may become associated with other meanings not necessarily intended or thought of by its makers. Artists, of course, have intentions about the meanings of their work. They usually attempt to convey ideas, events and thoughts by representing persons and things as images, but as they seek to ful- fill these conscious aims they do so by utilizing the styles and art techniques known to them. Style is a carrier of affect and meaning, which become part of an art object with little conscious intent on the part of the artist but nevertheless come through his mind and hands. Thus, iconographic meaning, that is, the subject matter, the specific image, is the direct result of the intentions and actions of the artist. Style also results from his actions, but is an indirect and almost un- conscious by-product of the artist's endeavors. The dictionary definition of meaning says, in part, that meaning is the thing one intends to convey by an act or especially by language, the thing that is conveyed or signified, the sense in which something is understood, the thing that is meant or intended, or the pattern of engrams aroused by a given stimulus. In art, the first three sub- 17 18 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 definitions of meaning deal with what an artist might put into an art object, while the last one is what a viewer may get from it. This difference of frame of reference is important, for much art historical comment deals with art objects seen after the time and occurrence of their making, and thus there is concern with a definition which stresses what a viewer gets from an art object rather than what is put into it. Erwin Panofsky says the art historian is a special and intense kind of beholder of art, who with discipline and scholarship tries to get out of his viewing of an art object the meanings that were put into it (Panofsky, 1955, p. 17). His levels of interpretation of meaning in art are considered here, in that they may provide an approach to the articulation of meaning with other aspects of culture (Panofsky, 1955, pp. 40-41). Panofsky suggests three differing levels of interpretation, primary subject matter, secondary or conventional subject matter, and in- trinsic meaning. In the production of art most aspects of meaning are simultaneously worked into the art object as it assumes material form. When the object is completed and is shown or displayed to viewers presumably all aspects of meaning are discernible by them. They get the intended message, the denotational subject matter, and presumably they get other kinds of meaning also, the connotational meanings not deliberately worked into the art object by its maker. Panofsky is invoked here to indicate that it is possible to study denotational subject matter on several levels or layers of scholarship, and to remind us that conventional subject matter is important and well worth the attention of anthropological students of art. How- ever, neither my field observations nor data from the published litera- ture are sufficient to properly deal with iconography or subject matter of New Ireland art. One of the art objects I saw in the field was the Malanggatsak malanggan (see fig. 11). From informants one got little beyond Panofsky's lowest level, that of pre-iconographical description. A naive beholder could infer that the figure represented was human in form and was depicted as wearing a towering headdress, some ele- ments of which were feathers and birds. This indeed was what in- formants were able to tell, and nothing more. By comparison of this object with several other carvings in the Field Museum's collections, it could be seen that the subject matter, a person with a certain kind of headdress, had been expressed a number of times in several vary- ing ways. The identity of the man wearing the headdress, what the headdress represented, what the various minor decorations mean, LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 19 still remains unsolved. The identity of the image was not deter- mined nor did we come to know the events, themes, and concepts of which it is a part. To build up knowledge inductively from Panof- sky's first to his second level is worthwhile but beyond the data in this study. The goals of his third level, the understanding of intrin- sic meaning, content, and symbolic values would seem to be even further from attainment than secondary subject matter, especially if approached through the prior levels. However, in an anthropological , study, iconological interpretation and symbolic values could be ap- y proached by means of pathways other than art, but it must be stated that in this work no such study was undertaken. It should be said at this point that the aspect of meaning, called by Panofsky subject matter, shall be referred to hereafter as iconographic meaning, and that this work does not deal with it. But is it possible to deal with another kind of meaning? Perhaps iconographic meaning as such simply is not much thought of by New Irelanders. Perhaps it is taken for granted. When the carver works, he takes for granted his subject matter, and consciously works and strives to express it. The patron wants the Malanggatsak malang- gan to be carved, and inherent in the name is the identity, the sub- ject matter, the content of that particular malanggan. The carver executes the carving, making a tangible object, a representation of a specifically known human or supernatural being, representing him in costumes, gestures, etc., appropriate to the events, themes, and con- cepts involved. Also the carving is done in the carver's style, which most likely is the style of the locality in which he lives and works. The viewers or beholders of the finished malanggan similarly know the iconographic meaning, and have not come to view the carvings merely to receive that message, but rather, they are paying their last respects to the dead, and to the deceased person's surviving relatives, by coming to see the image, eat at the feast, contribute foodstuffs and money, and in general participate in the ceremony. Thus, it seems that iconographic meaning, although important and desirable for an investigator to know is quite possibly a constant and given factor among the various aspects of meaning in the art of New Ireland. If iconographic meaning is taken for granted, and if it is less con- sciously thought of by New Ireland carvers and viewers, is there another aspect of meaning which is more in the forefront of their minds? If New Ireland art varies according to geographical location and changes through time, what changes from the point of view of New Irelanders? An entity which changes is the specific social com- 20 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 position of the constellation of interacting carvers, patrons, and par- ticipating viewers which forms each time a malanggan ceremonial is staged. No two malanggan ceremonial occasions can be the same in _ their social composition. No two malanggan occasions can have ex- / actly the same specific carvings. Thus, in contrast to the icono- graphic meaning which is relatively unchanging, something which does change and is new each time is the social context. It is suggested here that a New Irelander as he attends the feasts, listens to the ora- tory, and goes forward to look at the images is sensitized to perceive 'r^social contextual meaning rather than the traditional iconographic meanings. At this place in the ceremonial, aesthetic judgments are not made. In contrast to the opportunity for aesthetic criticism dur- ing the period of manufacture which could influence the carver to bring about changes, at viewing time critical viewers had no oppor- tunity to make verbalized criticisms of the malanggans. Their view- ing of the malanggan displays was passive in contrast to their more active participation during the making of the images. Viewers came to the displays not to see the art objects as such, not to be instructed about events of their group's history, but to participate in the cere- mony by attending. It is startlingly like the motivation of some viewers of art in the United States who go to art museums ostensibly to see the art objects, but who really are there acting out social roles. It is with these foregoing ideas in mind that the social context be considered to be a kind of meaning, called contextual meaning, or meaning derived from the context of the art. In New Ireland in 1954, contextual meaning seemed a more important aspect of mean- ing than iconographic meaning. If we think of art meaning as being comprised mainly of relatively inaccessible iconographical meaning and contextual meaning which is more amenable to study, it becomes possible to compare art mean- ings of quite different kinds of society without the difficulties of in- volving iconographic meaning. One could thus compare contextual meaning of New Ireland art with that of the art of the United States, the iconography of which could be as opaque and inaccessible as that of New Ireland. Comparisons of iconographic meaning of the art of two such disparate societies would be rather fatuous, in that they would be found to use different subject matter in their art. On the other hand, the social contexts of art of different societies seems to permit comparison. The circumstances and personnel of production and use, and the relationships of procedures and persons are amenable to ethnographic study. LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 21 It has been said here, then, that the social context of art is mean- ing, contextual meaning. The context in which the art was made and used, to some degree, was evoked in the minds of New Irelanders when they viewed the art. The art objects served to arouse memories in a viewer, they conveyed or signified a total entity of meaning. The viewer saw and knew the malanggans as named entitities, he saw and knew the identities of the represented objects, real and mytho- logical, he saw and knew the symbols of the events and concepts. Also, he was aware of his attendance at the feasts, ceremonies, and viewings and was aware of the activities, behavior, and attitudes of the participants in those ceremonies. He, of course, knew the per- sons involved, he knew the deceased person, he knew the candidate for initiation, he knew the patrons and other participants. They were his friends and relatives. This knowledge and awareness of the details of the context were part of his response to the stimulus pre- sented by the sight of the malanggan images. Such awareness also affected the viewer's responses to masking and helps to explain his attitude of amusement and little concern toward what could have been frightening or annoying. Here let us consider a contrast between background and context. Background implies a foreground, and, perhaps that a gap or space exists between the two. Context suggests a relationship in which all elements are intertwined and interdependent on each other. The New Ireland viewer did not perceive malanggan images or masks against a "background of culture" but saw images, masks, people, and the ceremonies within a context of use inside of and while part of New Ireland culture and society. Furthermore, as has been sug- gested, the viewer's involvement and immersion in the social context of the art may have been more important to him than the subject matter. Objects of art thus may be thought of as having placement and as operating within a context of manufacture and use, i.e., within a social context. Western art objects in an art museum are placed and function in a social context. Indeed, many Western works of art, especially historically important ones, have been placed and used within several different contexts in that they have originated in a society of a different era and culture, and have been used subse- quently by members of one or more different societies, as for example, Roman statuary found by Renaissance Italians, and later being dis- played in twentieth century Italy. Viewers in first century Rome, sixteenth century Rome, and twentieth century Rome surely see the 22 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 "same" statue differently. Differences of perception and interpre- tation arise from the different contexts of which the viewers are a part. In the history of New Ireland art there is not available for study knowledge of such time differences, but the problem is still there. Significant social contextual differences are to be sought at _^,village, clan and lineage, and personal levels, rather than in the larger '^settings of nations, cities, and historical eras. Further study of the variation of art form in New Ireland art will depend upon control of the general ethnography of New Ireland. The total art universe of Lesu-Libba in 1954 can be shown to vary due to social context, such as the ceremonies in which the art objects were used, the specific social groups for whom they were made, and the specific localities in which they were made. Comparisons of 1954 Lesu-Libba art with contemporary art from other parts of New Ire- land were not made. A few comparisons of 1954 art objects with selected objects from earlier time periods were made, and are dis- cussed below. Understanding the art style areas of all of New Ireland by pro- ceeding from social contexts to art forms, and from there on to icono- graphic study, seems to be dictated by the nature of the materials for study. The present literature does not permit a definitive icono- graphic study to be done. There has not been a significant study of museum specimens from New Ireland nor a field project which deals with iconography on an ethnographic basis. At this time neither in the literature nor in museum records are there data which would permit treatment of iconography at anything but Panofsky's pre- iconographic level. In my opinion, only field research, utilizing pho- tographs, observations, and preliminary analysis (pre-iconographic) of a significant sample of New Ireland art in world museums, can yield definitive results on iconographic meaning and variation of art forms and styles. Similarly, to significantly increase knowledge about social contexts, more field work on social organization is needed to extend coverage beyond Lesu and Fisoa, to areas near Kavieng, and to central and southern New Ireland. Also needed is modern lin- guistic study so that the relationships between the different language areas could be re-examined. f It is from the social context of art, from the shared participation in the dealings with death, puberty, and the supernatural, from the enjoyments of the feasting and dancing, from the participation in the speeches that art is in the most general way imbued with importance and value in New Ireland. LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 23 Malanggan is the most important ceremonial expression of north- ern New Ireland. It is the activity which brings together the largest numbers of people. The art objects refer to the ancestors, and to the important supernatural world. The value or importance of the art, to New Irelanders, is that it is imbued with the events, ideas, and affect of the social context. The involvement of the art objects with- in the social context made the art objects a repository of associations and affect which referred to that context. In short, the art objects were highly symbolic of the social context, as such, in addition to and-^ at the same time as being symbolic of the iconographic elements of meaning. Also, and conversely, the art objects imbue the ceremonies, feasts, and context with importance. The fact that the art objects do not persist in time beyond their presentation in the final rites, makes northern New Ireland art a particularly interesting and pertinent example for discussion. For if the art objects did persist, that is, if they were saved,^ they would be, in a physical sense as well as sym- bolicaIlyj_repositories^of the references to the social context. Malang- gan art is thus embedded in a dynamic context, one which depends for its continuance upon the desires, needs, deeds, and memories of men. Thus, when New Irelanders confronted their art, what did they see, what did they feel, what did it mean to them? They saw the malanggan objects in their display houses, under ceremonial con- straints, in reverential attitudes. The art was considered sacred, and was seen after being eagerly anticipated during the weeks and months of the ceremonies and stages of construction. They saw, in some cases, representations of specific ancestors, in others, images sym- bolic of supernatural beings. The gaps left in the living segment of society by the dead were filled, in part, by the newly initiated boys, whose initiation rites have come to a successful conclusion, literally before the eyes of the images. ^^ Art took on value from its social context in that it was used in the midst of display and exchanges of wealth at the ceremonies and feasts. The steeping of art with social value is directly parallel to the im- buing of the patrons with social prestige, in that value on the one hand, and prestige on the other, was marked not by formality, but by cumulative affect, in the minds of the public. Just as the patron accumulated prestige by having funnelled through his hands wealth in goods and money during ceremonial appearances, so also did art objects accumulate social value by being a focal point of ex- changes of goods and money. Thus, it is possible to say that art con- 24 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 noted to its viewers, in this informal and intangible way, wealth and power, by association with wealth and with powerful persons, at the same time as it denoted important persons, objects, events, and themes. Although the iconographic meaning and the form and style of New Ireland art are very important and quite worthy of study, they will not be dealt with. The social context, in which art was made and used in New Ireland, will comprise the main concern of this study. This context will be described and that description will enable us to approach understanding of what their art means to New Irelanders. Chapter II Social Organization in Northern New Ireland The art being considered in this study is mainly that called ma- langgan and associated with the ceremonials of the same name. The part of New Ireland in which malanggan ceremonies are carried out, and for which malanggan images are made, is northern New Ireland. For the purpose of this study northern New Ireland may be consid- ered to consist of the northwestern third of the island, and the Tabar Islands. Northern New Ireland is defined in this way because this delimited area most likely represents the area in which malanggan was practiced. In Figure 2 this area is that included in linguistic areas 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 13. However, although this is the area in which malanggan is prac- ticed and other areas to the southeast are different in this respect, northern New Ireland is by no means culturally homogeneous. Each of the above mentioned numbered areas is a linguistically different area, presumably all variants of Melanesian (Austronesian) lan- guages. The peculiarities, deficiencies, and biases of the ethnographic literature do not permit a clear view of the cultural relationships within New Ireland, but the linguistic variation suggested by Frie- derici (1912) and variation of social structure as seen in Chinnery's survey (1929) suggest that the studies of Groves and of Powdermaker should not be taken to be representative of New Ireland outside of the linguistic areas in which they were made. My ethnographic observations, made wholly within the Notsi linguistic area (that in which Powdermaker worked), should also not be taken as representa- tive of other areas of northern New Ireland, and certainly should not be applied to the central or southern regions. It should be stated that the ethnographic coverage of northern New Ireland is mostly concerned with the Notsi, Nelik, and Tabar linguistic areas (areas numbered 8, 10, 13 in Figure 2) and does not deal with Tigak, Le- musmus or Nayama (numbered 12, 11, 9 in Figure 2). Friederici's linguistic map shown in Figure 1 and my map. Fig- ure 2, shows the considerable variation of New Ireland languages. 25 26 LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 27 In the latter map, Figure 2, the differences between the classifications are based upon the difference of point of view and upon different terminology. Friederici made the most inclusive classification and Kramer followed it, dividing Friederici's Schleinitz Mountain area into Kanapit and Kandan areas, and simplifying the Nusa sub-areas into a single area. Stephan worked only in the south and presented a more detailed view of that area, and my classification reflects Notsi speaker's views of the rest of the island. Friederici, Kramer, and Stephan have given village or geographic names to districts and I have recorded Notsi speaker's names of the languages, but have used the terms "Interior People" and "Tabar Islands" when names were not given. The word Notsi was used in Lesu to refer to the language spoken there and in nearby villages in 1954, and was formally recognized by the government, as for instance, in the name of the local government school. The name was not used in any of the prior ethnographic literature. Kramer, following Friederici, called the area Hamba dis- trict, using the name of the Notsi village Hamba or Amba. Within the Notsi linguistic area there are three cultural group- ings. There is that comprised of the Notsi-speaking population, which is found distributed in six villages, Tandes, Libba, Langenia, Lesu, Amba, and Sali (fig. 3). The second consists of two villages^ Liadan and Kabil- — wherein reside people who formerly lived in the interior. Many of these people also live in the Notsi villages. The third cultural group to be found within the boundaries of the Notsi area is comprised of plantation laborers and the planters and is rep- resented by three European-owned coconut plantations. Each of these has one or more Europeans, usually Australian, as the proprie- tor or manager, and a number of Melanesian laborers, including a few New Irelanders as day workers, but consisting mostly of New Guinea people working on contract basis. The Notsi language is usually spoken in the Notsi villages and Melanesian Pidgin and English on the plantations. Presumably the interior language is spoken in the two interior villages but this was not observed. The location of five of the Notsi villages presumably dates back to pre-European days. Sali seems to be a recent offshoot settlement from Amba. The plantations were owned by Germans prior to 1914. Fig. 1. Map showing linguistic divisions of New Ireland. (After Friederici, 1912). 28 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 After 1914 the same plantations were continued under Australian proprietorship. The two villages of former interior people were moved onto the coast by administrative fiat. Change in village plan can be seen from comparison of Powder- maker's plan of Lesu of 1929-30, and a village plan of 1954 which I drew (fig. 4). In 1929 Lesu stretched along the coast for about three miles and was divided into fifteen hamlets, separated from one an- other by fences and sometimes also by unused land (Powdermaker, 1933, p. 31). In 1954, Lesuans still knew the boundaries of the named sections, but the village had split into two halves, called by them Number One and Number Two Lesu, respectively Methodist and Roman Catholic. Also a contraction had occurred, so that something like the previous hamlet plan still existed in 1954, but compressed in space and without regard for the actual boundaries of the named hamlet areas. In 1929, each hamlet contained from two to eight houses, the larger hamlets had their men's houses and cemetery and every hamlet had its own communal cooking ground and sometimes a cook house. The men's house and cemetery were near the sea (Powdermaker, 1933, p. 31). Powdermaker says: Each hamlet also has its name and a community life of its own, apart from its participation in the village life, and its members are frequently close relatives, but not always so. The women cook together and the men assist each other in their fishing and housebuilding. . . . Every native is identified with a certain hamlet as well as village. Thus, he is a man from Penguli, or Ponembatawa, as well as a member of the village of Lesu. His deepest roots are in the hamlet, and when he dies it is to the cemetery of the hamlet in which he was born that he is brought to be buried. As matrilocal residence is the rule, a man is frequently buried in a hamlet other than that in which he was living (1933, pp. 31, 32). A footnote of Powdermaker's sheds light upon the hamlets and upon the later splits into Numbers One and Two Lesu. In the past, before white contact, the hamlets of Lesu formed two vil- lages. The present six hamlets at the northern end (Simbelmalum, Ponam- sambuat, Ponembwam, Ponembatawa, Ponmenilisau, and Ponatlege) were known as the village of Tagam, and the remaining nine hamlets (Onel, Panat, Logok, Pantes, Penguli, Tarengam, Pencil, Sapone, Penbumbu) were Fig. 2. Map showing the linguistic classifications of Friederici, Kramer, Ste- phan, and Lewis. 29 30 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 the Lesu village. Each had their own chief, and there was constant fighting caused by thefts of women and pigs between the two villages. While war has been abolished and the two villages are now united, a certain division is still maintained between them. For instance, the boys of Tagam are still circumcised separately from the boys of Lesu. The members of the two places attend each other's rites, but there is no really close intimacy between them (1933, p. 32). Powdermaker's description of the household as the smallest group- ing according to locality as an individual family consisting of parents and children was much the case in 1954. Although sororal polygyny was reported in 1929, none was in evidence in 1954. There were still a few men's houses being used as residences for unmarried men, but a number of pre-adolescent and adolescent boys lived in the school dor- mitories. Not stressed by Powdermaker as being present in 1929, but mentioned by 1954 informants as having occurred earlier, was the practice of married men spending considerable time at the men's houses, both as participants in discussions and as frequent residents there as overnight guests and as diners. Women (a man's wife, or an unmarried man's sister or mother) would bring food to the yard of the men's house. However, the men's house is called anua kulau (house of the young men) and this suggests that its inhabitants in the older days were young and unmarried men. An informant, an older man, unmarried at the time, complained bitterly about the sad state of affairs in 1954 because it had become difficult to get together a fishing party at a men's house because "all the married men pre- ferred to sleep in their wives' houses" and were thus not available for discussion and planning of fishing parties. Powdermaker's description of the kinship system of Lesu in 1929 was, in the main, still true of the kinship system of Lesu in 1954. Moiety and clan, the family and the kinship system are described in Ldfe in Lesu (Powdermaker, 1933, pp. 33-57). The society is matrilineal in descent, the ideal residence rule is matrilocality. There are two exogamous named moieties, each of which has a series of named clans in it. A few of the clans are further subdivided into sub-clans. The moiety names remained unchanged, Kong Kong and Telenga, and also their functioning. Some of the named clans were present in both 1929 and in 1954, and some of the 1929 clans named were not present in Lesu in 1954. Also, some 1954 clans were not named in 1929 (Table 1). Not mentioned by Powder- FlG. 3. Map of settlements in the Notsi linguistic area and vicinity. 31 32 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 maker was the sub-clan, called nunsus, which was present in 1954 as a subdivision of the clan. Nunsus was described by informants as a named division within a clan. Powdermaker says: The members of each moiety regard themselves as related to each other in a classificatory manner. Each moiety is divided into a number of clans, an extended family group, all the members of which are related in the female line (1933, pp. 33-34). The moieties are named for two birds, Telenga being the Notsi name for fish hawk (Pandion leucocephalus) and Kong Kong for the eagle (Haliaetus leucogaster) . The clans and sub-clans are totemic in that each clan Is associated with a small piece of land, occasionally with a part of a reef, or a passage of water, and sometimes all three (Powdermaker, 1933, p. 35). On such ground is supposed to dwell a totemic pig or snake, or, in water, a shark. The clan and nunsus names seem not to be to- temic, for the names of the totemic beings are different. The nunsus subdivision is not in wide use in Lesu. Knowledge of it came quite unexpectedly when an informant was being questioned about his absence from a clan work project which had resulted in his presence at the anthropologist's house. His answer, which came out in an angry outburst against his clan brothers was that he was not obligated to participate in such a project because he didn't belong to the same part of the clan that the others did. Further questioning of other informants elicited the information that some of the other clans were similarly subdivided. The barely-functioning nunsus divisions raise a question not easily answ^ered from Powdermaker's material, namely, what is the struc- ture of the residential group, which, in earlier times (pre-1929) lived together in hamlets. The village of Lesu as it existed in 1929 is de- scribed by Powdermaker as consisting of 15 named hamlets. Her plan of Lesu (part of fig. 4), although specific as to hamlet names and and in types of structure present, does not specify clan affiliations of the hamlet residents. Also, the plan is schematic and without scale so that comparison with the 1954 village plan is difficult. Powder- maker, after describing the village and hamlet continues about the household, as follows: Fig. 4. A, Plan of Lesu, 1954 (P. H. Lewis). B, Plan of Lesu, 1929-30. (After Powdermaker 1933, facing p. 32). ~n n ^\ —■'''''^ ' '^ ^\ \ \ \ "^ 1 - \ \ \ ) ' = en ' \ \ ' a 3 \ t !2 « •- 2 -" " 5 I- in < 9 ui 3 r Z (9 Z 01 Z S 3 3 3 3 UJ 3 < \ ' /^ \ . ... a., 1 \ 1 / \ ** /. a. 0 1 \ < 1 ■ Cl \ -. K S - 5; - < f I // Ul 0 •^ ) 1 S /.llfl^ i s /? >. °a ° \ '^ / •^ 2^1|J[| < 0 j^ '~ial[oi3~, 0 Ou ^^ I Ji^'f >"-i/ < z < 1 ° 2 3 B X 3 in 5. t'^X 0 * •*■ "" "'" 0 0 = X < z 3 /•:¥t^ -" in UJ z g ^ " 5I in < 0. _j i- z 0 1 0., ^ ~. 0 z < — 0. 3 0 ° ""\' °D z < ^ ° ' 0 tt UJ - ... Z a.* < 0 ■ °° o^w ^ i 0 / ' 1 I z - z ° , r / \\ (J - trt bJ ■• < / \ h- / \ II i , 0 Z \„ . w 5i ^ 0. -j^ r °°° li / ^ .0 c 0 a. 3 4 01 . (/) °n I ' / - " 1 " 2 a"o oi: ^0 f I 3 01 •0° If Q 0 z — 0 \ 3" \ /' 1 0 U ^ D *" a! "" 2 _ _ 3 \ 1 \ 9: •- '^ W ^ W < 2 °, Q \ 1 It 0 ] t" -° 0 a I u ^ "^ ir> < -J 2 _ ^ °°°^ 0 to 01 rO CSJ " n 0 ^ Q S" 3 5 S S m < in 0 0 9> "^ 0 0 ^0 «««..-« 01 z < 2 3 < 01 Z 2 < la K w 1 Z 1 ° . J 5 IT] 10 f if "' ^ Ul < -J > z 0 _ 0. -A < < 0 lo UJ 0 < _l > 0 UJ UJ -1 -c J > ? 0 S m 5 I S 1; i I 3 < »y 0 z 0 < Z _ n 0 u 3 (A UJ Ol.„_.i UJ _J z < < 2 z 0 in in UJ 0 u < n ^ _l 0 3 0. ir 0 „ " 0 6 ^fl < 0 5 i (r 3 0 UJ 0 0: d z < D z s D It X •*; i^ 3 1 ■ ^ „ 1 < *^ 1 " - m in I iiisiz UJ -1 1- 0 Q -> .■« UJ ^ J »u^ z 2 0 x; 0 S UJ UJ 0 - a. / 1 ° " = 0 0 J z < 0 ■<» / 1 0 ki , / / " 0 1 to 0. 0 2 U u 2 /-v :s= 10 / X =ii +0 ' / u '^ ° " 33 >H CO H Oi W 1— 1 1— ( ^ O ffi S p^ o w ^1 o w J 1 CO o o (J3 2; 1 S i-H o 05 CO C Ui (J3 CD T-l*5 TS ^ . a tH a OS o CO 2co" gco 1 05 01 i-H i P3 t^ OT Chapter III Malanggan Ceremonials The main context in which art has been made and used in northern New Ireland is that of malanggan ceremonies. Malanggan is the generic name for the various ceremonies and for the several kinds of displayed art objects used. Malanggan ceremonies combine com- memorative, final rites for the dead and initiation rites for boys. Typically, deceased persons from a given clan are honored at the same time that boys from that clan are initiated, thus malanggan may be viewed as a kind of replacement of dead members of a clan with new members reaching adult status. The various stages of the overall ceremonies take about thi'ee months and reach a climax when the malanggan figur'es, images and objects are set up in display houses, there to be confronted by a great assemblage of people, including the relatives and other obligated per- sons, and also almost everyone else living nearby. At the time of the viewing the images are imbued with supernatural force, that of cer- tain ancestors, and that of other supernatural beings. Thus the re- placement of the dead with newly initiated youths is carried out in the presence of the honored dead and their supernatural power. A guardian spirit dwells on the home ground of the clan of the deceased person and that of the boy to be initiated, and there the various rites are carried out including the circumcision and seclusion of the boys, the manufacture of the malanggan objects, and the final rites. Some preparations for the feasting, such as growing crops, raising pigs, rehearsing dances, arranging for help, take place in other places and villages, but for each ceremony or feast, many people con- verge upon the home ground, especially at the climax ceremonies. In 1954 people came from as far away as 30 miles, while Powdermaker (1933) reported participants coming from 25 to 30 miles away in 1930. Participation at such distances is perhaps due to culture contact, especially pacification, and the presence of the road. Participation distance cannot be determined from earlier literature. 45 46 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 In seven months I was able to observe three funeral feasts, three memorial or malanggan ceremonies (not related to these funerals), and preliminary planning for another malanggan. Two of the funerals could have developed into malanggan ceremonies. Thus there was considerable malanggan activity, on-going and potential. One of the malanggan ceremonies, that which took place near the village of Libba, and staged by people living at Libba and Tandes, will be described here because, of the several expressions, it was the one best known and understood by me. It was also the largest and most complex. The various malanggan objects as well as most of the masks described in Chapter IV were part of the Libba malanggan ceremonies. In order to describe the events of the Libba malanggan ceremonies it is necessary to consider two different schedules or programs of their course. One is the formal program for malanggan given to me by informants in 1954, which is the formal and ideal course for the cere- monies to take and which consists of the following: 1. Kombutai — the making of the fence for the enclosure. A large feast occurs. 2. Suskaukau^ — the candidates for initiation, called koso, are brought into the enclosure and circumcised. Feasting and all night dancing. 3. Alit malanggan — the trees are cut and the logs brought into the enclosure. A small feast. 4. Giragira- — the first carving. A small feast. 5. Luptsi malanggan — the cleaning of the carvings, i.e., smooth- ing up the first rough carving. A small feast. 6. Anunun^ — putting in the eyes of the figures. A somewhat larger feast than for Luptsi malanggan. 7. Tsirau malanggan^ — putting the hair on the figures (if needed) . A small feast. 8. Sili malanggan^ — wash the malanggan, the carving is dipped in the sea. A small feast. 9. Atala malanggan — painting the malanggan. A small feast. 10. Tsoa pu-anua^ — building the display houses. A large feast. 11. Atup malanggan — the images are set up in the display houses. See number 13 below. 12. Lugi malanggan^ — paying to see the images. LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 47 13. Susumbura — the feast and dance at which the boys are brought out of the enclosure and returned to society. Stages 11 and 12 occur on the same day. 14. Tsinul — the finish, including the dance performances and pig and food distributions. I have constructed another kind of program representing the actual course of events, only part of which is covered in the formal program. An outline of this course of events follows: I. Prerequisite events: A. Death of a person. B. Presence of a candidate for initiation. C. Accumulation of more than one occurrence of A and B. II. Marshalling of resources: A. Planting of crops. B. Reserving of resources. li- Earmarking of foodstuffs (pigs, bananas, betel nut, coconuts, etc.). 2. Earmarking of money (shell and currency). 3. petting promises of support from kinsmen and or obligated persons. C. Rain-control magic to insure successful harvest of crops grown specifically for feasts. III. The initiation of boys. A. Preparations. 1. Erecting the fence. 2. Feasting. B. The circumcision rites. 1. Feasting. 2. Dancing. 3. Construction of boys' hut. 4. Circumcision. 5. Recuperation and instruction. 6. Presentations of boys to society (at final rites). IV. Carving and construction of malanggan objects. A. Planning. • 48 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 1. Selection of appropriate designs. 2. Commissioning of the malanggans. B. Formal stages of carving, construction, and setting up in the display houses. V. The final rites. A. Return and presentation of initiates. 1. Performance of Nit Kulegula masker. 2. Presentatiork of the boys. 3. Speeches. 4. Feasting. B. Display of the malanggan objects. 1. Opening of the enclosure. 2. Public viewing of the malanggans. 3. Payments at each house. C. Payments, food exchanges, and feasting. D. Dances. E. Pig distributions. F. Conclusion. 1. Disposition of the malanggans. 2. Return of guests to their villages. I actually observed only certain portions of the total course of the ceremonies. These were: 1. The tsur rite — rain-control magic to insure successful harvest of crops for the feasts. 2. The circumcision and seclusion of the boys. 3. Part of the process of manufacture of the malanggan objects, including their installation in the display houses. 4. The final rites which concluded the ceremonies. 5. Disposition of the malanggans, mostly by means of my col- lection. Notsi-speaking New Irelanders use the term minas to refer to a time of plenty and itul to refer to a hungry time, or a time of want. They believe that the fertility and yield of crops can be controlled by magical means, in the form of the tsur rite, which is sponsored by the patron or patrons of malanggan to begin a period of plenty. Feast- ing, formal and informal, is expected and necessary in all the stages / LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 49 DISPLAY HOUSES 1. Malanggatsak. etc. 2. Mowora 3. Tagapa 4. Gas OTHER STRUCTURES 5. Boy's house 6. Carver's workhouse 7. Workhouse lor Tagapa booies 8. Cookhouses and temporary sleeping quarters "'^st, Fig. 5. Map of Nou, 1954 (P. H. Lewis). of malanggan, and production of foodstuffs is therefore very impor- tant, especially since there is very little storage of food. Thus, in- stead of storing quantities of food for use over the several month period, many gardens are prepared so that the needed foods can be harvested for each occasion. It is to insure a steady and constant growth of crops that tsur is undertaken. Crop control is sought by means of rain control. Since the rainfall is extremely heavy (about 200 inches per year in some parts of the island) it is rain control, rather than rain making, which is attempted. Although sweet po- tato is the main daily food staple, and is also consumed in large quan- tities at the feasts, it seems not to be much affected by variations in weather in the same way that taro is. Taro is the ceremonially im- portant vegetable, and without taro the feasts, and especially distri- butions, would not be correct. Taro seems to require just the right amount of rainfall, occurring at certain times in its cultivation. Thus, the tsur rite is undertaken primarily to control rainfall for the benefit of the taro crop. Rain control, secondarily, was sought to assure good weather for the comfort of participants at the feasts and ceremonies. The tsur rite was undertaken at the site of the forthcoming ma- langgan ceremonies, at Nou (see fig. 5), located about a mile north of 50 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 Fig. 6. Inlet at Nou, October 17, 1953. Photograph, P. H. Lewis, Neg. No. 211. Libba, along the road, and then down a steep path to the level of the beach. Nou was a beautiful place, secluded from the village and the road, with its own little sand beach and inlet, and many large trees which provided shade (see fig. 6). The rite occurred on October 17, 1953, or almost five months before the final ceremonies on March 10, 1954. On October 17 there were three cookhouses being built in Nou, for use in the preparation of food for the coming feasts. The ceremony consisted of the ritual construction and planting of a small grove or rock garden. A number of rocks were arranged in a ring forming an oval of about five by three feet around a "Y"- shaped tree trunk called tongol. In earlier days the tongol formed an entry- way in a fence surrounding the yard of the men's house (Kramer- Bannow, E., 1916, p. 5). Informants said that captured warriors were sometimes placed on the tongol and portions of them eaten. The tsur grove was located just at the end of the path descending from the road, so that everyone coming down the path would see it. In the ground, inside the ring of stones and around the tongol were buried certain stones and a stone adze blade, and certain plants were Fig. 7. Libba men performing tsur rite, Nou, October 17, 1953. Photograph, P. H. Lewis, Neg. No. 202. 51 52 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 planted there. In the months following the construction and plant- ing, the plants continued to grow and thus formed a small garden. Seven men performed the ceremony. All were related to one or another of the boys to be initiated, but their participation seemed to be more a matter of their age and knowledge of the rite. One of the men was the 'luluai' (government-appointed head man) of Libba, an- other, Samari, was one of the two carvers. Their faces were black- ened and each wore a girdle of grasses around the waist, and various aromatic plants in his hair (see fig. 7). Ten different plants were used, with the following Notsi names: kuskus, pindi, hungla (ginger), gutkut (Zingiberacee gorongoro), bang, koha, rurua, yang, kumus, habungit. Four stones, called dodo, ranging in size from one inch to several inches in diameter, and the stone adze blade were placed on a big green koba leaf, together with kumus and pindi leaves. A small coconut was cut open, and its juice spilled into a half coconut shell. The kumus and pindi leaves were dipped in the juice and were used to wash the stones. The men cried out, imitated the sound of thunder, and sang. Dry red pigment called tel was placed on a piece of coconut shell and moistened with coconut juice. Then four of the men each took up one stone and taking the moistened paint on their thumb, each painted two three-quarter-inch bands around each stone. Samari the carver did the same with the stone adze blade. It is pos- sible that Samari's presence in the rite and this treatment of the adze blade were related to the carving of malanggans. Then, red bands were painted around the tongol. Singing accompanied these acts. Then, the seven men called out to the ancestors, and the leader be- gan to sing again. The coconut water was removed. Four holes were dug around the base of the tongol, one for each stone. There was some discussion as to where to place the smallest one. More holes were dug for the plants. The seven men, singing and squatting around the holes, took the stones and plants, and jiggled them over the holes. The leader made a hissing noise to stop the singing. Everyone called out loudly, then, while speaking to the objects, the bungla, pindi, and stones were placed in the holes. Then, without further song or speech, the rest of the plants were planted. Five of the men withdrew, leav- ing Lamua and Kalungis squatting and facing each other over the fork of the tongol. They spoke to the planted and buried objects so they would work powerfully in the ground. They imitated the sound of thunder again and called upon the ancestors to come down to earth on a big cloud with lightning. Lamua called upon specific ancestors by name and was prompted by the others with names he forgot. The LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 53 Stasia (aromatic leaves worn in the hair) were placed on the tongol. To this point the ceremony lasted about one hour. Later more stones were placed in a circle around the planted objects. At about 5 :30 P.M. a feast was given and speeches were made, many of which stressed the need for hard work in the gardens. The tsur garden had been set up, was considered to be exerting its influence, and a previously existing garden which was standing nearby was considered to be finished. The good times of minas were thus formally sought for the oncoming ceremonies. One informant (one of the patrons) said that at the end of the ceremonials those who had sponsored the tsur and its attendant good times would sponsor another rite which would bring on the time of want, itul. It was ex- plained that if the patrons had paid for the good time with money, pigs, and other resources, it would not be right for others to benefit from such expenditures. However, the next people to make malang- gan, in their efforts to bring on minas, would return some of the expended wealth to these persons. I did not see or hear of any such rite at the close of the malanggan ceremonials. On November 26, 1953, the fence, called hinati ('banis' in Pidgin English) was built to form the enclosure inside which the initiation and malanggan carving would occur. This was the formal stage called kombutai. A feast marked the occasion and served as partial payment for the work. The fence consisted of a four-foot-high lower section made of horizontal rows of bamboo lashed between upright saplings, in the manner of construction of the ordinary garden fences, and an upper section made of coconut leaves lashed vertically atop the horizontal bamboo lower fence, resulting in a fence about ten feet high. It was built in an "L" shape so that the area to be enclosed was open to the sea on one side and to the bush on the other (see fig. 5). It did not quite touch the sea and thus permitted passage around that end of the fence. A doorway, called mutun mui, faced southward toward Libba. Access to the sea and the bush made it possible for the boys, although secluded, to bathe in the sea and to forage in the bush for snacks. Kombutai resulted in the construction of the fence which created the enclosure and was marked and paid for with a feast. Suskaukau, the circumcision of the boys, took place on January 6 and, in contrast with the rather workaday events of Kombutai, was very dramatic. On January 3 gifts of food had been ceremonially given to each of the four candidates for circumcision. Sugar cane and bunches of taro were hung on poles which were stood up in the sand. 54 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 These gifts were all given by women whose faces were painted and who wore aromatic leaves in their hair. On the 6th the gateway to the enclosm^e was closed by means of a coconut leaf gate. After being circumcised the boys were to remain in the enclosure and, until they were returned to society in March, they were not to see, or be seen by, the women. The flimsy gate, and the gap between the end of the fence and the sea show that voluntary compliance of the women was an important part of maintaining the seclusion of the boys. The boys' house, inside the enclosure, contained four beds, one for each boy. One was wider than the others; it was for the smallest and youngest boy, Pogo, whose father was going to sleep with him at first. Running the length of each bed was a pole raised a few inches from the surface of the bed, which was to permit the circumcised boy to throw his leg over the pole to minimize contact of the penis with the thighs, and also to serve as a support for a blanket, keeping it away from the healing penis. By sundown of Tuesday, January 5, the gate to the enclosure was shut, the boys' house was readied, and a coconut leaf fence had been built partly around the house. Many people had arrived, and were sitting around outside the enclosure, chatting, smoking, cooking, and eating. The fathers of the candidates circulated around in the crowd collecting sticks of tobacco and money to pay the dancers who were to perform afterward. At 8:15 P.M. Libba women and then Tandes women performed the Girimisi dance, which lasted about two hours. Afterward the men from Amba and from Lesu began the Pondewasi dance. Both Girimisi and Pondewasi were performed around a great bonfire. Pondewasi continued through the rest of the evening and night. Men and women from other villages joined in during the long hours of dancing. Just as dawn began to lighten the sky, at about 5:00 Wednesday morning, the dancing ceased and all the men formed a line and began a solemn procession around the dancing ground. They sang a dirge- like song. The candidates were at the head of the procession and were led by their fathers and other men. The women began to cry. They held out their arms to the men and boys, who began to enter the enclosure, the gate of which was temporarily opened. The boys were in the front of the procession and were halted near the house. All the rest of the men came inside, and the entrance to the enclosure was closed again. Muat, the circumciser, had been brought from Luburua to perform the operations. He was to get £A 8 for his services, or £A 2 per boy (about $4.50 in 1954J, The method of LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 55 circumcision, according to Muat, was to pull the foreskin forward, clip it between two straight pieces of split bamboo, and using the edges of the clips as a guide, cut along them with a razor blade so that not only was a portion of the foreskin severed but also the end of the penis was cut. Muat stated that to merely cut the foreskin without nicking the glans penis was improper, and would make the boys sick. Muat awaited the boys near the boys' house. Each candidate was attended by two men who removed their 'lap laps.' No hazing or rough treatment occurred, and the men seemed con- siderate and helpful. The naked boys and their attendants waited in a row against the inside wall of the enclosure and against the wall of the house. Muat and some assistants then proceeded from boy to boy per- forming the operations rapidly. Each boy had a piece of wood in his mouth on which to bite to help him not cry out. The rest of the men stood ready near the bamboo walls of the fence holding sticks. As each boy was cut these men shouted and beat upon the walls with their sticks which drowned out possible cries of the boys and also signalled to the women outside that a boy had been cir- cumcised. The foreskin of each boy was given to his father, who later buried it with part of a taro plant. After the operation, each boy was led to a log, in front of which a small smoldering fire was burning, and was seated in such a way that his penis w^as about a foot above the fire. Men crowded around and reassured the boys. After a few moments the boys were led into their house where there were similar fires beneath the poles of the beds. The boys were put to bed. By this time everyone seemed cheerful. All of this, from the beginning of the procession to the retirement of the boys had taken about an hour, ending just about at full sunrise. At this time the women outside the enclosure attacked the fence. Their shouts could be heard inside the enclosure and a few women even appeared at the open sea end of the fence brandishing sticks and throwing pieces of fruit, sticks, and stones. The men kept back from the gate and from the open end of the fence. I was advised against going outside for a while. It was said that sometimes men were seized, if outside the enclosure at such a time, stripped of their clothing and personal articles, and beaten. Finally, after about half an hour, the women retired from their attack and the men began to leave the enclosure. The four circumcised boys re- mained in the hut, together with their fathers and a few other 56 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 relatives and friends. From this day, until the carvings were com- pleted in March, the boys were not to be seen by women and were not to look at women. After their cuts were healed, they were to be allowed to bathe in the sea and to range the nearby bush. Their meals were supplied by their mothers, sisters, and other female I'elatives, who took up residence in the houses outside the enclosure, a few yards away, and would remain there until the end of the cere- monies. One of the first tasks set the boys was to make pan pipes, called kika, with which they would signal for food. Upon hearing the signal, women were to bring food to the gate and leave it there to be taken inside by some man to the boys. Later in the morning, seven display "trees" were set up outside the enclosure, one or more for each boy. The "trees" were saplings trimmed of larger branches and leaves so that a few projecting limbs remained. They were imbedded in the ground and bunches of taro, sugar cane, and strings of shell money were hung on the branches. Cleaned and singed carcasses of several pigs were placed below them. Many small groups of people, seated on mats, engaged in exchanging shell money and currency. Money was collected for Muat, the circumciser, and for payment for pigs. After these payments, toward the end of the morning of the 6th a Pi masker appeared. He strutted into the dance-ground area carrying his dummy spears, basket, and shell rattle. He danced and shook the rattle and, turning, ran off into the bush. Shortly he reappeared with the basket full of un- ripe grapefruits, which were then thrown at the men and boys, while the women stood around and watched with amusement. The Pi figure retreated and reappeared several more times, and made his final appearance at the feast at noon time, when he was given a basket of food. After the noon feast, food was distributed to many persons. At this time the honorific portion called "head of the pig" was given to a Lesu man for his role in organizing and presenting the Pondewasi dance. After the feast, the display trees were stripped of their food and money by women belonging to the same clan as the boy for whom the tree was erected. The feasters then departed for their respective homes, carrying the food given them. It was on January 8 that I learned that there were going to be carved malanggans. On that day the boys were seen in the enclosure, cheerfully engaged in making pan pipes. They were still not wearing 'lap laps,' and the penis of each boy was suspended in a triangular LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 57 sling made of three pieces of cane, strung together on string, one end of which was tied to a string around the waist. On January 25 I found that the logs had been brought in from the bush, probably on the preceding Friday, January 21. A hut had been constructed in the enclosure for use as a workshop, and in it were several short logs. Two men, Samari, a known 'carpenter,' or carver, and Eruel, the father of Lingi, one of the initiates, were alone in the enclosure, seated before the carver's hut, and were carving malanggan figures. The boys were not present and it was said that they were fishing. Later they returned with fish, accom- panied by other boys from Libba. At this time some other men appeared. The fish were given to the women outside the enclosure for cooking. The boys went out to the bush for areca nut and betel pepper and for drinking coconuts. All the visitors, men and boys, were given a meal, during which the two carvers were also fed. This kind of feast was informal and presumably occurred daily, at least to feed the boys and the carvers. On days when fish w^ere not caught, tinned meat or fish purchased from a trade store was served, also rice, tea, and sugar, all paid for by the fathers. Thus there was a considerable and constant financial drain upon the fathers for these informal meals as well as for the formal feasts. Mean- while, at this time in Lesu, and presumably in other villages, dance rehearsals were proceeding. In Lesu the Sogumbua dance was being rehearsed so that it could be performed well in March. By this time, the boys were quite accustomed to living in the enclosure and seemed to be enjoying it. The carvers did not sleep in the enclosure, but left every evening to return to their homes. By February 1 two stages had been observed, kombutai and suskaukau, that is, the building of the fence and the circumcision. I did not observe the stages of cutting the logs, alit malanggan, first cutting, giragira, and smoothing the rough carving, luptsi ma- langgan. They presumably had been carried out, but I do not know whether ceremonies or feasts accompanied these steps. A number of carvings had been started which were ready for the stage of putting in the eyes, anunun. At this time (February 1) Eruel was working on the Malanggatsak malanggan head, the Pu'ling malanggan, one Tagapa malanggan head, the Nit Kulegula mask, and several bird- head mouth ornaments. Samari was working on the Gas malanggan head, three Tagapa malanggan heads, a face for one of the Wowora malanggans, and several bird-head mouth ornaments. Except for the mouth ornaments, only two objects were to be made in their / cf 58 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 ^entirety by one carver. These were the Pu'Hng malanggan and the Nit Kulegula mask. All the remaining objects were to be the heads of the figures, the bodies for which would be made by others. On February 2, the feast for putting in the eyes, anunun, occurred and the proceedings were observed. The Pu'ling malanggan, the Malanggatsak head, and one Tagapa head, all the malanggans being made by Eruel, had been set up in a small, crudely constructed version of the display house. The carvings had been carved and smoothed, but were as yet unpainted. The eyes had been pencilled in instead of being represented by the operculae of sea snails. (At a later date Eruel bought 14 operculae for three shillings from some men at Amba.) Eruel, speaking as patron rather than carver, announced the transfer of the design of Pu'ling from him to Nodai, the father of Kalamogo, one of the initiates (see fig. 15). Nodai had commis- sioned Eruel to carve the Pu'ling malanggan, in honor of his (Nodai's) - son Kalamogo and Malis, his dead wife and mothei' of Kalamogo. /(^ruel said that the malanggan had belonged to Lekiu, his mother, who had given it to him just before the war. He said that he had carved it but once before. Kalamogo had asked for it, and he, Eruel, was transferring it to him. Members of Kalamogo's clan came forward and paid to Eruel 50 shillings in currency, one string of shell money worth about ten shillings, and two sticks of trade tobacco worth about two shillings. Eruel spoke again, this time about the Malanggatsak malanggan which was being made for his son, Lingi. Malanggatsak had belonged to Eruel when he was a boy, and his mother had given it to him also. Members of Lingi's clan came forward and made payments to Eruel for Malanggatsak. Both men and women came into the enclosure, the circumcised boys hiding from the women. Ten shillings, one string of shell money, and two sticks of tobacco were paid. Nodai then spoke and made payments for the pigs being eaten at the feast. The carvers were each presented with the head of a pig, and, in addition, Samari got ten shillings and one string of shell money. Lamua commented on the satisfactory progress of the carvings, and that the main coming event was to be the big final festival. Nodai then spoke again to complain about a relative, who was supposed to be helping with money, but whose assistance had not yet materialized. Nodai then exhorted the assembled feasters to quickly finish the ceremonies. Eruel gave the final speech in which he accounted for the various payments. It was said that in former days, if a carver felt that his payments were too small, he would not mention his displeasure at LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 59 the time of payment, but would go home and later allow rumors of his displeasure to reach the patron. The feast ended, and baskets of food were carried back to the several villages involved. On February 5 Samari was seen carving the Gas head, not in the enclosure in Nou but in Libba, in a hamlet named Pinasagil, on the grounds of the 'Luluai' Lagiri. It was being carved for Pogo. Unfortunately, it is not clear in what relationship Pogo stands to Lagiri (see fig. 17). Possibly Lagiri is tata (mother's brother) to Pogo. Another possibility is that Lagiri was the owner of the Gas malanggan. At a place called Kabil, between Libba and Nou, some men were making Wowora malanggans. A rite was observed there on February 15, in which a feast was given for the men working on the Woworas, and magical spells recited to protect the workers from injury. Payments of one shilling, one string of shell money, and one stick of tobacco, each, were given to the owner of Wowora rights, Pakua, by Papun, Kalamogo, and Lingi. By February 17 three display houses had been built at Nou; one which was to house Malanggatsak, Pu'ling, and Labui, and the Nit mask, one for the Tagapa figures, and one for the two Wowora disks. A feast had been given for the building of the houses, at which three pigs were consumed. This feast could be considered as tsoa pu-anua, the construction of display houses. At this time the end was in sight and a timetable for the concluding events was given in a speech by Nodai: Saturday, February 20, make malangggan bodies. Monday, February 22, wash malanggans. Tuesday, February 23, paint malanggans. Wednesday, February 24, paint malanggans. Thursday, February 25, paint malanggans, cut bananas. Friday, February 26, cut bananas.' Saturday, February 27, cut bananas. Monday, March 1, cut bananas, gather bark. Tuesday, March 2, cut bananas, gather bark. Friday, March 5, bury bananas. Saturday, March 6, bury bananas. ' Cutting bananas, gathering bark, and burying bananas refers to a procedure for ripening large quantities of bananas quickly for a big feast. Ordinarily, bananas ripen banana-by-banana, or at best, hand-by-hand, but this method ripens whole bunches at one time. Bananas are harvested by bunches, are separated into hands, are then wrapped in bark and buried in sand pits. About four days later they are dug up and are then sweet and soft, and, thus rendered edible. When a date for cutting bananas, and more particularly, for burying bananas is set, it means that the date for the feasting is set. In fact, four days after burying the last bananas was March 10, when there was feasting. 60 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 Nodai's speech served both to hurry the work along and to organize and co-ordinate the preparations for the last stages. As subsequent days went by, more persons were drawn into the activi- ties. For instance, on February 23 a group of Tandes men were constructing bodies for the five Tagapa heads. The date for the final ceremonies was coming into focus as March 10, but the time- table presented by Nodai was not strictly observed, especially the washing of malanggans. However, on February 24, some painting was proceeding. By March 5, most of the heads had been finished and work on the Tagapa bodies was proceeding. Feather head- dresses were being placed on the heads of three of the five Tagapa figures. On March 8, the Tagapa bodies were still being painted with white paint. The Labui malanggan was brought to Nou from Luburua, having been carved in that village. The bodies for Malang- gatsak and for Gas were being made and the Wowora disks were being painted at Kabil. On March 10 all malanggan objects were set up in their display houses. In display house number 1 (see fig. 5) was placed Malang- gatsak, Pu'ling on the back wall, and Labui set into the sand floor. Display house number 2 contained the two Wowora disks, display house number 3 the five Tagapa figures, and in display house number 4 (constructed later than the first three houses) was the solitary Gas figure. The five Tagapa figures were set up in their display house side by side on a trestle, about three feet from the ground. Bunches of areca nut and strings of shell money were hung above the figures. Behind a screen of coconut leaves set up in front of the house sat the Tandes men who had made the bodies. They were being led in a chant by an old man named Tumasong, who was said to have made the oldest of the five heads. At the conclusion of the chant the screen was thrown down and dragged away and the images sat in the display house, ready to be seen by the viewers. The chant, it was explained, brought supernatural presence into the figures and after that was accomplished they were considered to be danger- ous from that moment and throughout the time they were to stand in the display houses and until such time as they were destroyed. On March 10 the displays were finished in the houses so that each of the four houses could show its supernaturally charged in- habitants, the malanggan images. On the same day, also, the boys were returned to society. In the morning they were quite ready, LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 61 they had been bleaching their hair and it was shining, golden yellow. They wore new 'lap laps.' The men finished setting up the figures. Finally, the carver's hut, the boys' house, and the hut in which the Tagapa bodies had been made were torn down and the debris thrown into the sea. Only the four display houses were left standing. A man was dressed in Pi costume, armed with his dummy spears and basket of grapefruit, and was sent off" outside, cavorting around the end of the enclosure fence to the encouraging cries from the men inside. Shouts of laughter were immediately heard from outside the enclosure as Pi began pelting the crowd outside with the grapefruit. After a short time, the Pi masker returned to the enclosure, panting and laughing. His mask and costume were removed from him and another man dressed up to go out. Meanwhile, Eruel was being dressed to wear the Nit Kulegula mask. His costume was rather like the Pi costume, a red tee shirt, a coconut leaf girdle, and bristling midribs of palm leaf. Tumasong, the old man who had led the Tagapa chant, took the mask to the water's edge, recited a spell over it, and brought it back to place the mask upon Eruel's head. A large oval ring of white feathers circled the carved and painted wooden mask and the face, modeled of dark brown beeswax, gleamed as light was reflected from the shiny sur- faces. Eruel's appearance was that of a tall figure, looking upward at an angle of about 30 degrees from the horizontal. He was handed a ceremonial paddle and a shell rattle and, followed by the four initiated boys, walked around the end of the enclosure, to be met immediately outside the fence by a group of women, the sisters, mothers, and grandmothers of the boys. Eruel, as the Nit masker, then led the boys and women along the outside wall of the enclosure to the dancing area. Waiting for the group was Nodai, holding a bunch of betel nuts and string of shell money, which were given to Eruel. Nodai made a speech, starting with a series of sobs, which is one form of stylized oratorical opening. He explained in his speech that his son, Kala- mogo, had just emerged from the enclosure and that he had been circumcised and initiated. Daniel Muk then also spoke in behalf of Kalamogo (see fig. 8). People affiliated with Lingi then came forward and made payments of shell money and currency to Eruel. Members of Eruel's clan came forward and made payments to Daniel Muk. The boys were then allowed to walk to the cookhouses, accompanied by their female relatives. Without any further fanfare 62 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 Fig. 8. Eruel, wearing the Nit Kulegula mask, standing with the initiated boys and their female relatives, as Daniel Muk makes a speech. Noii, March 10, 1954. FMNH Neg. No. 100599 from Kodachrome by P. H. Lewis. or fuss the boys joined the waiting crowd and from then on acted as did the other spectators. The two other boys, Pogo and August, were not spoken about at this time, they merely joined their families without the speech-making accorded Kalamogo and Lingi. Eruel, still costumed in the Nit mask and carrying the paddle and rattle, then performed a solemn solo dance, which consisted of stiff posturings and shaking presentations of the paddle and rattle. The crowd watched silently with great concentration. There was no musical accompaniment. The thud of Eruel's feet striking the earth was clearly and easily heard. Finally, he finished the dance and walked back into the enclosure where the mask was removed and placed upon a rack on the second story of the Malanggatsak display house (see fig. 14) . In the coming months, after the removal of the malanggans, it was to be the sole occupant of the display house. As soon as the mask was installed in the display house, the gate to the enclosure was removed. The entire crowd, men, women, and children, filed in through the gateway. The malanggans were at the peak of their effectiveness, LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 63 the paint was fresh, the green backgrounds of the display houses was not yet wilted, insects had not yet burrowed into the wood. In former times, informants said, this viewing time was a tense and dramatic episode. The people would come forward to the display houses exclaiming in wonder and sometimes with tears in their eyes. In 1954, however, there were no tears, but serious attention was being paid to the malanggans. The people crowded before the several display houses. At the house containing Malanggatsak, Pu'- ling, the Labui malanggan, and the Nit mask, Eruel spoke, standing in front of the display house and pointing back at the various objects inside when they were mentioned in the speech. He explained that the Nit was in honor of his two deceased affinal relatives, that the right to make and use the mask was being transferred to his son Lingi, for his use, and not for the use of Lingi's whole clan. He gave the rattle to Lingi. Lingi then came forward and put down some shell money on the floor of the display house, and was followed, one at a time, by his sister, his mother, and other members of his clan. Eruel then picked up the payments. Daniel Muk and Nodai then spoke about the Pu'ling malanggan. Others came forward to make payments. The 'luluai' of Luburua spoke, saying that a former malanggan ceremonial given by Daniel Muk had now been recipro- cated. Other Luburua men spoke about the Labui malanggan. Payments were made for that malanggan. After the first payments by close relatives, friends, and specifically obligated persons, the rest of the audience came forward one at a time, viewed the malang- gans and made payments. All the payments, whether the first payments or the later ones, were about the same amount, consisting of a stick of tobacco, a shilling, or a small string of shell money. By mid-afternoon of March 10, viewing and payments had taken place at all four houses and food was brought into the enclosure for a feast. A Pi figure, costumed in the bush, appeared among the feasters and was bribed to desist from his terrorism with a basket of food. At the feast there was distribution of pork. Before and after the feast there was exchange of foodstuffs, occurring between the women of Lesu and those of Libba. Similar exchanges took place between Libba women and women from other villages. Each Lesu woman had brought her carrying basket full of raw taro. At Nou, the Lesu women put near each basket a leaf on which was placed washed and peeled, uncooked taro. The Lesu women wrapped up the bundle and these bundles were placed in the iga ('mumu,' cooking pile). After that the baskets of raw taro were dumped out 64 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 on the ground and all the women of both groups began peeling and preparing them for the next day's feasting. When the iga was opened, each Lesu woman who had brought a basket of raw taro received a basket full of cooked taro and some bananas. They subsequently carried this food back to Lesu where it was eaten in meals served in their own households. The next day, March 11, was largely devoted to dance presen- tations. In the morning there was a distribution of pigs to some of the dance groups. The solemnity of the previous day was sup- planted by a more light-hearted atmosphere. Dances were performed by women from Tandes and men from Libba. Some highland New Guinea plantation laborers presented some of their dances. During the day about ten different dance presentations were given. One presentation can be described because it was mentioned as an in- digenous New Ireland dance, in contrast to many of the other dances. This dance was called Sogumbua and was performed by men dancing to the accompaniment of a female choir plus a slit drum being played by two men. Each man wore a pilot (feathered headdress) like those placed on the Tagapa malanggan figures. Around each dancer's neck were painted "V" shaped designs, some in white powdered lime, others in yellow pigment, both similar to the "V" shaped braided decorations on the neck of Malanggatsak. A kilt of shredded co- conut leaf fronds was worn around the waist, but over a 'lap lap.' Faces were marked with white lime, and most of the men carried in their mouths carved and painted wooden bird's head dance orna- ments. The dance began dramatically. A rectangular enclosure made of green coconut leaves and measuring about 15 by 45 feet, was suddenly opened up to reveal the dancers, each kneeling on one knee, with arms folded behind their backs and each man looking upward with the bird's head ornament pointing upward also. The drummers began to play and the women to sing. One of the dancers signalled changes in the dance steps with a steel whistle which he kept in his mouth like the others held their ornaments. His first blast was a signal for the dancers to arise and go out onto the dancing ground. The importance of the feather headdress was such that men would not dance if they had no headdress. One man gave his headdress to his step-son so the child could dance in the per- formance, thinking that he would be able to borrow another one. However, the man had rehearsed to dance in a front line, a rather visible positon, and other men objected to his being there when he was unable to get another headdress. They suggested he dance in LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 65 a rear rank, and he became angi-y and resigned from the performance. During the dances there were expressions of joking relationships between cross-cousins [kuku). An individual would run out from the audience and single out a dancer who was kuku to him, and do one of the following things; pop an areca nut into the mouth of the dancer, slap the dancer's back with white powdered lime, or snatch away some bit of the dancer's costume. The dancer went on with the performance, but afterwards he had to seek out his kuku and give that person a shilling, a string of shell money or a stick of tobacco. The crowd considered these actions funny and laughed at them. Late in the afternoon it rained and the dancing had to cease. There was gi'umbling about the rain magicians who had been hired to hold back the rain at such times. It was not that they were thought to be unable to hold back the rain, but rather that they were angry about something and were willfully allowing it to rain. Another possibility mentioned was that someone was angry with the Libba people and had hired other rain magicians to make rain. The next day, March 12, was the last day of the malanggan ceremonials. Whatever had caused the rain on the previous day apparently was still at work, for it rained heavily. Twenty-three pigs were killed and dressed. They lay in a long row, each pig on its belly, all the heads facing the same way, towards the crowd. While the crowd awaited the cutting-up and distribution of the pigs, a comedy dance skit was presented by two Libba boys in costumes made of copra sacks. One was supposed to be a hunter, the other a wallaby. The hunter had a long stiff tail which he periodically raised as though it were a rifle and aimed it at the crowd. Towards the end of the morning pig payments were made. The four patrons, plus other people, all stood over the lined-up pigs and made payments of shell money and currency for the various pigs. In order to purchase a pig from someone for a feast or a distribution, in addition to exchange of pigs for money, an obligation was incurred, in that the purchaser promised to furnish a pig at some future occasion (for payment of money also) . After the flurry of payments was finished, Tumasong came forward to the pigs and made incantations over each pig to make each one go as far as possible in the distributions and to insure the satisfaction of the recipients with their portions. 66 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 A comedy performance satirizing the cutting up and distribution of the pigs followed, which provided additional comedy relief for somewhat dull happenings of the day. Butchering of pigs was usually done with sharp knives and ocassional use of a bush knife (machetej or even an axe to cut through cartilage or bones. The cutting usually went smoothly and rapidly, great slices right through the carcass, bones and all. The bigger and more important pieces were usually cut first and the carver handed each piece up to another man who called out the name of the recipient and carried the piece over to him. Kunang approached one of the pigs with a tiny little knife and began, with great difficulty, to saw away at the pig. After great effort in sawing and hacking, a tiny and insignificant morsel was detached, which he immediately held aloft and called out in the customary way, "o mogadil, o mogadil" (It's cold, It's cold,) just as if he were calling the name of a recipient of the portion. That piece was rushed over to a person in the crowd and was given to him. Then Kunang seized an axe and fell upon the carcass with a frenzy of wild hacking and chopping, and each time a mangled chunk was detached, he stopped, held it aloft and called out various other nonsense names, such as the word for dog, the names of certain trees, and the names of villages. Each piece was carried into the crowd and given to a laughing individual. The real distribution proceeded thereafter. Lasogo, one of the patrons, stood upon the back of the largest pig and made a speech, saying that it was the sight of this pig, wandering through Libba months ago, which provided the sign that malanggan should be undertaken, that the hugeness of the pig suggested that Lasogo and his kinsmen could face the financial and economic burdens of being malanggan patrons. As soon as Lasogo finished his speech 22 men walked up to the line of pigs and each stooped over a pig and began to carve (fig. 9). Distributions of the portions of pig were made to specific individuals in the crowd, each person's name being called out, and the portion brought to him and placed on leaves in front of him. The portions varied from the large and honorific "head of the pig," weighing from 30 to 50 pounds, to insignificant portions of the bony back, weighing perhaps four to five pounds. The larger portions went to those who had given much help in the form of money or foodstuffs, or presentation of dances, and the smaller portions went to those who gave only token assistance. When the distributions ended, the portions were wrapped in leaves and placed in coconut leaf baskets quickly made for the purpose and everyone LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 67 Fig. y. Pigs being butchered for distribution. They have been killed and singed, but the meat is not cooked. Nou, March 12, 1954. FMNH Neg. No. 100601 from Kodachrome by P. H. Lewis. began to leave for home. As an example of what happened to some of the distributed meat, some that was given to a Lesu man, Ureng, was used as the main dish in a small feast staged in Lesu. That feast was given to pay for work done by some young men who cut fence posts for Ureng. Also, at this feast a quarrel between two women w^as settled by one giving the other a string of shell money. Two other men settled another quarrel at the feast. In this same way, the food distributed at the Libba malanggan furnished numer- ous occasions for small feasts in many different parts of the Notsi area. On March 15, I returned to Libba to collect the malanggan ob- jects. I had to ask Lasogo and Musting for permission to take Ma- langgatsak and the Tagapa figures, Nodai for the Pu'ling malanggan, Pakua for the Woworas, and Lagiri for the Gas. It should be noted that Pakua and Lagiri were the owners of rights to the Wowora and Gas malanggans prior to the ceremonials, and, in spite of having apparently transfeiTed rights to others, were still to be asked for them. One of the five Tagapa figures had to remain in Libba, just 68 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 as one had been kept before in Tandes. Eruel would not part with the Nit Kulegula mask, saying that it had to remain on its rack in the display house there to remind eveiyone, and especially the women, of the recent ceremonials. My wife and I were given ginger to eat and had spells recited for our benefit to ward off possible evil effects of handling the malang- gan objects. Some figures were thought to be dangerous. Tagapa, it was said, had already brought a whirlwind which had broken a big branch of a tree in Nou, near the Tagapa display house. We were warned not to travel on the same vehicle as the malanggans; in- formants were relieved to hear that we would travel by air and the malanggans by sea. However, having eaten the ginger, having had the spells said, and having made token payments at the March 10 viewing, it was thought unlikely that harm would come to me or to my wife. With respect to Wowora, first concern was with keeping details of the construction secret. The makers of Wowora especially did not want other New Irelanders to see the construction of the back of the center section of the disks. They were satisfied in that the two disks were sewn into blankets and later packed, blankets and all, into crates. The 'kep kep' breast ornament which had been displayed on the front of the biggest Wowora had been carefully ji removed and it was made clear that like the feather headdresses on i the Tagapa heads, it was too rare and valuable to be allowed to go. I Wowora malanggans were thought to be dangerous, too, if handled carelessly, and were thought to be capable of causing deep, painful, and even fatal sores. No special precautions were needed in the collection of Malanggatsak, Pu'ling, and Labui. Ultimate disposi- tion of the malanggans was obscured by their collection. The treat- ment of the Nit mask and the reserving of one of the five Tagapa heads suggests that there may have been many idiosyncratic ways to dispose of malanggans, depending upon specific details of each one. , Let us now consider the course of malanggan ceremonies as seen - — T3y Kramer, Peekel, and Powdermaker. All are comparable in that northern New Ireland malanggans are being described, indeed, with the exception of Peekel, the other two are based upon observations made in the Notsi linguistic area. Kramer described the formal stages of production of malanggan as seen in 1907 as follows: 1. tilmunei "We cut wood." Men from the neighboring villages come together with their axes and adzes to fell a tree. They cut off the needed LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 69 lengths and carry them on litters to the beach, singing and cutting down everything that is in the way. Many people await the logs, they (the people) are decorated with powdered lime and with ornamental leaves. There is drumming while the logs are carried to the workyard and laid down there. If payment with shell money does not soon follow, the carriers try to destroy their load. Then follows a discussion of how many dead each has to honor, how important they were, and the ability of the patron to pay. In any case, so many dead, so many pigs. 2. gerengero, "The beating." For the next five days the logs remain untouched. The patrons, rather than the carvers, peel the bark from the logs. Afterwards they are set out in the sun for a short time, to prevent splitting. The pieces of wood are laid on a long bench which is built so that the carvers can approach from both sides. On the sixth day the carvers sharpen their tools. On the seventh day the carvers begin, without onlookers. A feast of pigs and taro occurs on that day. 3. arnet, The first "breakthrough" (piercing of the wood). This occurs after three days of working with onlookers, who bring money. Again a feast with pig. 4. aseke, the "laying up" of the pieces on the rafters of the men's house, there to dry in the smoke and heat from fires below for about two months. This is marked by a feast requiring, instead of domestic pigs, at most a pair of wild bush pigs, but usually only fish and taro. 5. luptse, the "fetching down" after two months. The last fine finish- ing with the adze, smoothing and trimming are begun at this time. The occasion is marked by great pig eating and much celebration. 6. bobogo, the "cutting" with knives, until completion of the figures. Then, upon completion, deliberations about next stage, which is: 7. gurenogur, the "erection of the fence." All surrounding villages are asked for help. All bring bamboo poles and rattan on an allotted day and each village undertakes the construction of a part of fence. If begun in the morning, the fence must be done by afternoon. 8. anenen (matan), "the setting in of the eyes." This occurs on the next day. Into prepared eye-holes of the malanggans are placed white mus- sel shell and turbo snail valves. The carving is then finished. The artists are given two pigs on two taro leaves.' The painting and setting up follow: 9. ule malanggan, "painting of the malanggans." This word (ule) has already been mentioned in section on Uli figures. This first coat consists of white lime, which was mixed in a coconut shell with sea water. One pig was eaten. 10. atetel, painting with red earth tell, from Tabar, which (like the white lime) is mixed with sea water. The red earth, marara, from Konombin near Panagundu was cooked before use in a hot fire. ' Taro leaves are too small to hold a pig. It is possible Kramer meant and two packages of taro wrapped in leaves. 70 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 11. bidte, the "resining-in" of the black soot. This is obtained by burn- ing Calophyllum nuts and mixing the resultant charcoal with breadfruit tree sap. One pig was eaten. 12. ionge, yellow coloring made from the iong bark of the root of the borbara tree, which grows in the mountains and is provided by the interior people. The root is first washed, then the bark shredded into a shell, the scrapings pressed out and the juice put with lime, to produce a beautiful cadmium yellow. (Similarly with Morinda root.) In Lemeris, for the suns' the bitter root-bark of the ava shrub is chewed, then the cud is pressed out and the juice mixed with lime, whereupon the yellow appears; the wine red color is produced there also by adding lime to the yellow Hibiscus root bark and black by swamp water. Finally, the brushes used for this painting must be mentioned. They are made from green stalk of the Zingiberacee goron- goro, a kind of Alpinia, called kotkot in Hamba. They simply bite off the end of the stalk and the brush is finished. At the conclusion there comes, in Hamba, also: 13. dseraun, the "squeezing in" of iasinang fruit, a burr-like fruit from a kind of small pandanus. They are pressed into a layer of wax or pari- narium-nut putty so that they form an approximation of hair. Pubic hair is also represented this way occasionally. Short lengths of wooden sticks are also treated this way. For beards they like to use the black, thin- stalked swamp plant rakerak. Then follow the: 14. dsogo bo anua, the "nearness of the house," i.e., the beginning of the construction of the malanggan display houses. Many people come to the site of the ceremonies from the surrounding environs. A feast, with ten pigs and two tremendous packages of taro, many yams, etc., marks this occasion. 15. altituen, ramming in of the tuen, or sticks driven into the ground which form the back wall. Cross poles are leaned on them, the ends of which rest on two forked posts. This done mainly by the people of the place. 16. galele tulangit, filling in the walls with bunches of sigorr fern plants. 17. atup malanggan, "binding-celebration of the malanggans." The malanggans are tied or bound onto the walls of the display house. At this time a great pig with backwards curving tusks was eaten. 18. Sesemboro, "clapping-up." Lime-paste was "clapped onto" the cheeks and breasts with the hands before dancing. Yellow rings were painted around the eyes and the hair was colored red. First day: Dance rehearsals; the women peeling taro and cooking it the following night. Second day: Great bungman dance before the malanggan house, in pairs, with hornbill heads in their mouths, first at the patron's place, then at other places, all accompanied by drumming on bamboos and drums. North of Hamba women can also dance. The conclusion is marked by an orator, with his bone spear {dsiltongan) in his right hand, calling out the pigs, often as many as fifty in number, and paying their donor. 1 Wowora, or disk — malanggans. LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 71 The malanggan houses remain standing for many years as signs of the festival. The images are thrown into the bush, if a white man does not drag them off (Kramer, 1925, pp. 79-80).' Peekel did not give a step by step account of the course of ma- langgan, but his general remarks are worth repeating here, especially since some are critical comments on Kramer. Peekel says: The Alalagan^ ceremonial. The description of a malagan celebration in its separate parts and all of its variations would fill a whole book of considerable size, particularly if one would take into due consideration also the spirit which animates all. Everything must be interpreted, for a malagan is not a merely external celebration, but a thoughtful act, whose ceremony, at least partly, contains a deep symbolic meaning. A description like that of Kramer is therefore only correct in small part. It is a skeleton without flesh and without spirit. We must therefore, aim at detailed description and then confine ourselves in a few large strokes to sketch out the most important aspects of such a celebration. A. The Preparations. The duration of the preparations varies with the size of the ceremony. The shortest time is taken by a Maradang ceremony, because the carved heads lie ready and the bodies are set up relatively quickly. The making of Fudumasi lasts somewhat longer. The preparation time of a ceremony with carved images can last, from the day when the tree was felled, until the unveiling, 6, 9, 12, and even 15 months. Obviously the New Mecklen- burg artist does not count 8 or 10 hour workdays. He does not hurry and correctly, because the always moist wood would contract and crack with quicker work. B. The Ceremony Itself. An ancestor ceremony is always bound up with numerous dances and lavish feasting. Without them it is no good! If one would rank these two aspects, one must say that for many natives, the feasting is the main thing. Because of adverse circumstances the natives sometimes, apart from all the dances have to be satisfied with a purely ceremonial marching-up {lang- manu). The feasting is never lacking. According to the consumption of the bill of fare, especially the number of the slaughtered pigs, can one best judge the size of the ceremonial. They occur with 3, 5, 10, 20 and up to 60 slaughtered pigs. There is a great quantity of vegetables. For all feasts only the most first rate, and best, of taro, large and beautiful of form and good to taste, are served. It is ivas ina malagan. Some two weeks before the unveiling of the images, bamboo stands are erected all around the household concerned on the beach. They are about 1.20 meters wide and 1.40 to 1.60 meters high, so that they cannot be reached by pigs. From these days on, one can observe then, how the women carry their loads from their nearby gardens or from other fields. 1 Translated from German by P. H. Lewis. - Peekel's spelling. 72 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 When all is finished, then the first great ceremony occurs, a kas lifu, that is, the opening of the houses or the unveiling. The enclosures are torn down or the malagan is newly set up in another well located place. The ceremony occurs only with a dance and a feast, since the cleaning-up work leaves little free time. At forenoon and evening, often until late into the night, the pigs are strangled and put into the ovens together with the vege- tables. If the ceremony is exceptionally large, then most of the strangled animals are singed over the fire and set up on a two meter high scaffold in rows for display. On the following day is the main ceremony: A malagan i vilai, that is, the performance. Vil means to make . . . Malagan fill The ceremonial is a day of rejoicing, whose twofold program proclaimed: Dance and Eat! Soon in the early morning hours the drums announce the big day. The ceremony itself occurs usually in the noon hours, from 11 to 2 o'clock, but larger malagans occur earlier, while smaller and quite small ones occur in the fore-noon hours from 3 to 5. Before the start of the ceremony one sees festively ornamented dancers holding dress rehearsals in nearby places others standing in rows, waiting the signal to begin. Everywhere one sees painted faces, masks, spears, dance staff's, and rattles. A great multitude of festively clothed onlookers, men, women, and children overflows the yard. Then the drums rolled nearer; tung tung tung, and the dancers stepped onto the dancing area. Soon a group dips here, there another, soon two or three at the same time. It is a drumming and rattling, a singing and piping, which one cannot represent here. In short so goes a ceremony after the heart of the natives. I have never observed excesses at any malaggan. Onlookers as well as performers control themselves calmly, themselves earnest, and police regulation is not needed. It is also not considered. Thus it was at noon and forenoon. It is time for the second part of the program to begin, which brings the whole ceremony to a close. The Secret Doings of Malagan Of really secret aspects of the making and unveiling of Malagan there can be no discussion. The secrecy is no greater than the setting up and unveiling of our memorials. To be sure the sculptors work hidden away, in houses screened by coconut leaf screens, to which access is forbidden, but this is not secrecy. It is done so that they work undisturbed and the great general surprise on the day of unveiling is not spoiled. The secret proceed- ings attendant on the making of Maradan and Fudumasi seem to be some- what greater. But also there is justification. Their making is a patent of the producer. No one, especially the women, should know of what materials and in what ways the image is made. If they come to be known widely, they are the fame of their maker. The same is true for the masks, which represent spirits and the musical instruments, such as the Launut, or death- fiddle, and the mansungu-na-bore, an ornamented bamboo pipe, on which the Namatanai imitate the grunting of pigs. How can they think this is difficult to understand for they see each one day by day lying in their yards, they are permitted to touch and examine them. No one believes in a spirit more than those who have seen these objects lying around. After the completion of the malagan ceremonial, the ancestor figures remain standing in the display houses until they are ruined by natural LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 73 causes. That does not take long, because the wood is very soft and becomes eaten by worms. They do not throw the images into the bush, as Kramer says. So much unnecessary work a New Mecklenburger does not do. He leaves all to its fate and the bush comes quickly and surrounds the display houses standing at the cremation places or on the edge of the household yards. The little houses fall, the malagans with them, and everything re- mains lying there, save that natives sometimes give it a slight glance. Thus is the custom (Peekel, 1927, pp. 29-32). ^ Powdermaker gives a summary chronological sequence of ma- langgan events as follows: L Planting of gardens and making of taro magic ten months before the big feasts. 2. Making of malanggans and masks begun several months before the rites take place. 3. May 8. Building of enclosure in which boys will be circumcised and secluded. 4. June 3. Dancing all night by the women, followed the next morning by the circumcision of the boys, who after that remain within the enclosure. 5. June 7. Small house built within the enclosure to hold the malang- gans which will be placed there later. 6. June 25. Boys come out from the enclosure. Dancing by men and placing of unpainted malanggans in the enclosure. 7. June 26-July 30. Men of whole village and women of Tagam having daily dance rehearsals. 8. July 30-August 6. Week of intensive preparations for final rites. 9. August 6-7. Completed malanggans placed in the enclosure and displayed to the men. Feast and elaborate dancing end with sexual promis- cuity. (Note: If it were not that the boys had to come out of the enclosure early to go to the mission school, the rites held on June 25 and those on August 6 and 7 would have been held at one time on the last date.) 10. August 9-August 17. Women of Tagam sleep in one house and men in their own homes. Continence observed. 11. August 27. Tagam women walk singing to the next village, col- lecting food in hamlet on the way. After this they go back to normal sleeping arrangements. 12. November 18. Feast by the men in enclosure on the occasion of the removal of red paint from the hair of the eight boys. 13. January 25. Final rites and feast for the malanggans, after which they are destroyed (Powdermaker, 1933, pp. 135-136). The above sequence is that of malanggan rites seen from the point of view of initiation rites. A very good description of malang- gan events in the context of mortuary rites is given by Powdermaker (1933, pp. 210-222), which I have paraphrased as follows: » Translated from German by P. H. Lewis. 74 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 Two men, Poinbi and Kanot of Logagon, a village about 25 miles from Lesu, decide to make a malanggan for deceased Watlau, who is Kanot's father and Poinbi's maternal uncle. In mid-August (after Watlau has been dead for some time) Poinbi comes to Lesu to buy the rights to make the Puibi malanggan of the Sasabwan class from Palou, the owner. Meanwhile Kanot goes to Tabar to get the assist- ance of his clan relatives. A few days after Poinbi's visit to Lesu, having arranged for the malanggan to be made, he returns to Lo- gagon. The malanggan is begun at Lesu, by the men who live in Penguli, Palou's hamlet, bringing the log. Kanua, a Lesu carver, begins to carve. By mid-October (two months later) Kanua has completed the the carving but not the painting, having been interrupted once to carve a small malanggan for a rush order. The carved but not yet painted malanggan is then taken to Logagon where it will be painted and set up in a display house, where dances will be rehearsed, costumes and masks made, a cook house prepared and much food readied for the preliminary rites which ai'e held on November 4. They had been postponed awaiting the arrival of the Tabar people. The preliminary rites consist of dancing, feasting, payments and speech making, and a general viewing of the unpainted malanggans. Immediately afterwards preparations for future, further rites proceed, as do dance rehearsals, and gathering of foodstuffs. The Tabar con- tingent finally arrive, feasting and speech making occur, then the malanggans are painted and set up in display houses. Final pay- ments are made, more speeches and feasting take place, and the Pandawasik dance is performed all night long. These are the final rites, and the next day there is distribution of uncooked food, and everyone goes home, the Lesuans to their village, 25 miles away (presumably also the Tabar people go back to the Tabar islands) and the Logagon people to bed, to sleep all day. After the return to Penguli (in Lesu) a feast marks the cleaning of the hut in which the malanggans were made. Powdermaker concludes this description as follows: Almost three months have elapsed since Poinbi first came to Penguli and made arrangements for the making of the malanggan. There has been much ritual dancing and feasts. Poinbi and his group have expended a great deal of wealth. He and his community are poor now, but he has honoured his dead relatives and acquired much prestige. Those who have helped him have also acquired prestige. The acquisition of the right to make the malanggan, which they bought from Palou, is also a financial asset, for LEWIS 1953-54 ( October 17, 1953 TSUR Ceremony (to ensure loro crop tof feostinq) November 26, 1953 1 KOMBUTAI Building the fence r ION OF ANS TH ■ARTING 1 Jonuory 6, 1954 2 SUSKAUKAU Circumcision Pi mosker January 8, 1954 3 4 5 II hod been decided to moke malonggons ALIT MALANG6AN Cutting the log. logs brought into the enclosure GIRAGIRA First corvinq LUPTSI Cleoninq of corvings. first smoothing up Jonuory 25, 1954 Carving wos proceeding, dance reheorsols TWO MONTHS — AFTER STARTING Ftbruory 2, 1954 6 7 ANUNUN Setting in the eyes TSIRAU Pulling on hair 9 5ILI Washing, corving dipped in seo 9 ATALA Pointing 10 TSOA PUANUA Start building display houses Februory 17, 1954 Three of the four disploy houses were built 1 THREE MONTHS - — AFTER STARTING March a to 10, 1954 1 1 ATUP MALANGGAN Set up carvings , Morch 10, 1954-^ - 12 LUGl MALANGGAN Poy to see the imoges (Ihe unveiling) ^^ - 13 SUSUMBURA Boys rcleosed, Pi.Nil Kulegulo moskers Morch 11,1954 14 TSINUL Conclusion, donee performonees.food distributors Morch 12,1954 Pig distributions people return to stage small feasts at home Morch 15,1954 Anthropologist collected oil molonggan objects eicepl I one Togapo The Nil Kulegulo mosk was left, at Eruel's request, FOUR MONTHS - — to weother owoy with its display house AFTER STARTINl Sources: Kramer 192."), pp. 79-80; START OF PRODUCTION OF MALANG6ANS TILMUNEI CuHmq the log GERENGERA Peelinq. drying . GALELE TULANGIT POWDERMAKER 1929- 30 LEWIS 1953-54 5 Ju"e 7.1929 fune 25,1929 Boys come LtFC W LESU pp 210-222 • 26, 1953 I KOM ALMOST 3 MONTHS LATER MORE THAN 2 MONTHS LATER t3Jonuo'y 25.1930 Fmol n'es onO 12 LUGI MALANGGftN Poy lo see the imogei (it» iin»e.lingl 13 SUSUMBURA Boys feleoied. P>, Nil Kolegulo mosln'» hlZ.1954 Pig d.slfibul.t h 15.195* Anthfopologis FIG. 10. The course of malanggan ceremonies as seen by Kramer, Peekel, Powdermaker, and Lewis. Sources: Kramer I92S, pp. 79- Peekel 1928, pp. 30-31; Powdermaker 1933, pp. 13.5-136, 210-222; Lewis, field notes. LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 75 eventually they will resell the right to make this malanggan to someone else and get all the wealth back which they have now laid out. Palou and his associates have lost the right to make the malanggan, but are rich. Eventually they too will use this wealth to buy the right to make a new malanggan (1933, p. 222). From this description it can be seen that this expression of ma- langgan took three months from its beginning to the end. There is also a clear description of the transmission of rights to the Puiba malanggan, which Palou once had made at the time his maternal nephew was circumcised and was now having it made in honor of Watlau. After the completion of the rites Palou cannot have Puiba made any more but henceforth Poinbi of Logagon will be the patron. Thus Puiba had been made at (or near) Lesu at least two times, and in the future would be made at Logagon. Certain changes in meaning are also suggested. The Puiba ma- langgan being made in 1929-30 for Watlau had figures which were those of Poinbi's maternal uncle, his father, his brother-in-law, and two others, plus various sacred animals. However, upon the pre- vious occasion, at the circumcision of Palou's nephew, the figures represented Palou's dead wife and some of his own clan relatives. ^ > See footnote, p. 212 (Powdermaker, 1933, p. 212). Fig. 11. Head of the Malanggatsak malanggan. Nou, March 9, 1954. FMNH Neg. No. 100610 from Kodachrome by P. H. Lewis. FMNH Catalog No. 252450, 76 Chapter IV A Description of Art In the Notsi Area In 1953-54 During my seven month long residence in New Ireland in 1953- 54, I saw a number of major and minor art objects made and used. Twelve objects known to me as malanggan objects were seen in use or while being made and then used. Several masks were seen used, one was observed while being made. A number of other art objects, both of native and of European inspiration were seen in use during the period of field work. Although it may be that there were some art objects which were not seen, it is quite probable that I saw most of the art in use in the Notsi area in 1953-54. Art objects seen in New Ireland during that period were as follows: Malanggan objects Malanggatsak malanggan Gas malanggan Labui malanggan 5 Tagapa malanggan objects 2 Wowora malanggan objects Pu'ling malanggan Walik-Mantelingling malanggan Masks Nit Kulegula mask Pi masks Lingi's mask Labele's mask 2 or more Libba masks Other Aboriginal Art Objects Dance paraphernalia Bird's-head mouthpieces Feather headdresses Face and body painting 77 78 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 Personal ornamentation, not in dance costuming Arm rings Breast ornaments ('kep kep'), seen only on a Wowora malang- gan, but just like those formerly worn. Tatooing Hair bleaching and dyeing Floats for fish nets Art Objects of European Inspiration Tombstones Mission church buildings School children's drawings Malanggan Objects Malanggatsak Malanggatsak was the name given to a depiction of a humanoid figure of roughly life size. The head was carved and painted by Eruel at Nou, in the carver's hut during January, February, and March, 1954. The body and limbs were made by a group of Libba men other than Eruel at the display hut on March 9 and the figure was assembled by them under Eruel's supervision. The figure was displayed seated on a log, its feet planted on the ground, its arms raised, the palms of the hands facing forward. The head was carved wood, and painted in black, yellow, and red, representing a stylized humanoid head wearing an intricate and towering headdress (fig. 11). Attached to the face was a mustache made of black aerial tree fern root. The neck ended in a peg which was set into a socket carved in the upper end of the torso. The torso was made of a segment of tree trunk, about one foot in diam- eter and two feet long (fig. 12). The arms were made of saplings, of about two inch diameter and about one foot long each, bound together in an "L" shape with rattan strips. The legs were fashioned from green, juicy banana stalks, each about three feet long and of approximately three inch diameter. They were cut slightly behind the knees, and bent to a 120 degree angle to depict the legs bent at the knee. The torso, arms, and legs were then covered with pieces of green cotton cloth tailored to form a smooth and continuous covering (fig. 13). Hands and feet were carved from coconut husk. A collar made of braided yellow-white fibers was nailed down around the neck. The hands and feet were pegged into holes in the ends of the limbs, the arms fitted into holes in the trunk, and the legs were Fig. 12. Detail of construction of torso and arms of the Malanggatsak ma- langgan. Nou, March 9, 1954. Photograph, P. H. Lewis, Neg. No. 3101. 79 Fig. 13. Body of Malanggatsak malanggan set up on a log, with hands and feet attached, green cotton cloth cover, fiber neckband and aromatic bouquet. Nou, March 9, 1954. Photograph, P. H. Lewis, Neg. No. 3112. Fig. 14. Front view of display house showing above, Nit Kulegula mask, below, the Malanggatsak malanggan, FMNH Catalog No. 252450, and right, the Labui malanggan, FMNH Catalog No. 252456. On the rear wall of the lower chamber, behind and above Malanggatsak is the Pu'ling malanggan, FMNH Catalog No. 252457. Nou, March 10, 1954. FMNH Neg. No. 100605 from Koda- chrome by P. H. Lewis. 81 82 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 Sebaling Sungi n _ A Lasogo Musting SAKWILACLAN ^^ ,,'• TELENGA MOIETY ( ^; n - /' A Desi / Kurang 1 '\^ k y L A o / A 6 > A A Lili Gamatu ? Gamstu 1. 2. 3. 4. A O Sisia Rut Lingl ' 1. 2. 3. / (Initiate) Fig. 15. Kinship relationships of Malanggatsak malanggan. nailed and lashed to the lower trunk. In addition to bindings, nails were freely used to make the various joints fast. On the day of the display a bundle of aromatic herbs and leaves was placed over the genital area (fig. 14). The inside of the lower chamber of the display house was lined with fresh, dark gi'een leaves on the back and sides. The seat was a large log. The floor of the hut was the natural sand of the beach. A segment of sapling formed a sill across the open part of the hut. Malanggatsak was used as a malanggan display object as part of the Libba malanggan ceremonies. ^ The artist-patron relationship and the kinship relationships of Malanggatsak were as follows: Eruel was both the carver and the patron. As patron, he commissioned the figure to honor the memory of Gamatu. As Figure 15 shows, Gamatu appears twice as the name of two boys, one dead, one alive, numbered 2 and 4 on the youngest generation. These individuals were being honored by Malanggatsak. Living Gamatu, No. 4, is named after dead Gamatu, which is custom- ary. However, it is almost certain that Gamatu No. 2 was named after someone else who was named Gamatu, perhaps a person in the LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 83 parental or grandparental generation (not in genealogy). Eruel's relationship with Gamatu is through his wife, Raus, who is a member of Sakwila, the same clan as that of Gamatu, Lasogo, Musting, and old Sebaling. Eruel's son Lingi is also in Sakwila and was one of the initiates. Eruel, therefore, was honoring a recently deceased member of his wife's clan (Gamatu), and by commissioning Malanggatsak ^ for this purpose, also honored his son Lingi in his circumcision and initiation. At the same time, the rights to carve and use Malanggat- sak passed to Sakwila clan. When the head of Malanggatsak was collected, the permission of Sakwila clan patrons, Lasogo and Mus- ting, was sought. Presumably, Lingi will have a close relationship with Malanggatsak, and although it is not clear that he will have sole rights of patronage in the future, it seems likely that Lingi will indeed be the person who will commission Malanggatsak at later times. Confusingly, Eruel acted as carver as well as patron for this malanggan. There was something not quite correct about this pro- cedure, although no verbalized criticism was heard. Perhaps if there were more carvers available to do the work, Eruel would not have attempted to do his own malanggan, and it is probable that this situation has resulted from the scarcity of carvers, was recognized as such by everyone, and thus, criticism was waived. No myths are known to this writer to be associated with Malang- gatsak, nor is the meaning of the name known. Malanggatsak can be related to objects of similar form in the collections of the Field Museum, and to objects illustrated in ethno- graphic publications. The distinctive head and headdress of Malang- gatsak is easily recognized in a number of carvings in the New Ireland collections at the Field Museum. Many of these are full figures carved in wood, but with the recognizably similar head. A few of the pieces are carved heads only with peg bases, or necks, which would have permitted their use as carved wooden heads on otherwise fabricated bodies. No fabricated bodies of the kind described above are in the Museum's collections. I collected only the head in 1954. Four objects resembling Malanggatsak are illustrated on a plate in Peekel (1927, opp. p. 16), and another object in Kramer (1925, Plate 55, left). The name malangga-tsaka is mentioned among a list of malanggan names from Tabar by Nevermann (1940, p. 24). Photographs and mention of malanggan figures with fabricated bodies, but with a different kind of head are also found in the ethnographic 84 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 literature. A photograph in Kramer (1925, Plate 34, right) shows life-sized Marendang figures with fabricated bodies very similar to those of Malanggatsak, except that instead of cloth, these bodies are covered with coils of fibrous material. Peekel reported that the Marendang heads were carefully saved from ceremony to ceremony and that sometimes European shoes were used as feet (1927, p. 20). Kramer referred (1925, p. 74) to a drawing made by a New Irelander (1925, Figure 19F), which shows the god Moroa in seated position and arms upraised^ — the same position in which Malanggatsak was set up. Gas Gas was the name given to a figure consisting of a carved and painted wooden head, with a neck peg, which was set into a socket in a fabricated body. The head was carved and painted by Samari from late January through early March, 1954, and the body and limbs were made by other men on March 10. The head was carved in a hamlet called Punesagil, part of Libba. The painting was done in the enclosure at Nou. The appearance of the finished figure was that of a humanoid figure of about three-quarter life size, seated on a log, feet on the ground, and arms upraised (fig. 16). The face was fiercely grimacing with upstanding tusks rising from the corners of the mouth. The hair was represented by many sharp thorns bristling outward from the head. Standing on the head, amid the thorns, looking forward, was a bird. A bird's head dance ornament carved from a separate piece of wood was placed in the mouth. The trunk of the body was a log, about two feet long and about ten inches in diameter, arms and legs were constructed of pieces of sapling lashed together, and hands and feet were carved from coconut husk. The figure, except for the head, hands, and feet, was plastered with greyish yellow clay. An arm band, made of white paper, was placed upon one arm, and a bundle of aromatic leaves was placed on the genital region. The display house had one chamber, the interior walls of which were not surfaced with leaves, but merely showed the framework of sap- lings and the inside of the covering of the exterior. During Samari's carving of the head, I observed the following incident. When Samari had finished carving the bird on the man's head it was apparent to one of the men in the enclosure that an element of the design had been omitted; namely, a snake which should have been shown as being held in the bird's mouth. The Fig. 16. Gas malanggan set up in display house. Nou, March 10, 1954. FMNH Neg. No. 100603 from Kodachrome by P. H. Lewis. FMNH Catalog No. of head 252459. 85 86 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 critic knew that a snake should have been included, and Samari's answer implied that he too had known about it. His answer was that he had simply forgotten the snake but that Lasogo (the patron) didn't know the difference because he had never seen Gas carved. Gas was used as a malanggan object in the March 10 celebration. See Figure 5 for the location of the hut in which Gas was displayed. The patronage of Gas is shown in the kinship diagram in Figure 17. Musting and Lasogo were the patrons. Both Musting and La- sogo were called mum (father) by Pogo and both called him nungutsi (my son). Lasogo also was a clan leader or orung of clan Sakwila. Lagiri was orung kun i hung Maliba, or the leader of clan Maliba. Gas was carved in the yard of Lagiri, in Punasagil hamlet, Libba. Thus Gas was carved on clan Maliba ground, perhaps on that clan's sacred ground, but more likely on the ground upon which Pogo was born. One statement about Gas was that it belonged to one Kunkun, a deceased person, and former member oi clan Maliba. Gas thus belonged to members of clan Maliba and members of clan Sakwila made payments for the use and /or the rights to the malang- gan. Lasogo (Musting's elder brother) acted in Pogo's interests as his father in being the person who made the payments. Being older, and having orung status, he was a better representative than Must- ing, the boy's real father. Lagiri acted for clan Maliba as orung, and possibly, also as a blood relation of Pogo. The relationship of the carver, Samari, to the patron or patrons is simply that he, Samari, was commissioned to work, but actual payments were not observed. It is possible that both Lagiri and Lasogo made payments to Samari for his services as a carver, such payments being in addition to, and independent of, payments be- tween Lagiri and Lasogo. In a myth told in 1954 it was said that a 'masalai' (spirit) came to a 'big man' while the latter was asleep and told him how to make the Gas malanggan. He was instructed to make the body of wood and cover it with yellow earth. The name Gas was used by New Irelanders in 1954 as a generic term for various types of supernatural creatures, as well as being used as a name for a creature of specific form. Informants told of four different kinds of Gas one of which was named Gas also. These were as follows: (1) Pulis lima, literally long arm. This creature was supposed to have eyes in the back of its head, and feet which were turned backwards. It was believed that its arms could stretch SAKWILA Clan Telenga Moiety MALIBA Clan Kong Kong Moiety Sebaling _Ya_y_a_ grandmother O A Lasogo M_ij_m father A Penyas Musti ng M_ij_m father A Kun Kun Ya^a grandfather A Lagiri Yaya_ grandfather (^\ Neeiai Na n_g_gj mother A Pogo ( I nitiatei Ego SAKWILA Clan ^ ^ 'MALIBA Clan Fig. 17. Kinship relationships of the Gas malanggan. 87 88 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 SO that birds and lizards could be caught by hand. (2) Gas was considered a creature with black skin, but long hair which hung down to the shoulders. My wife was was often called Gas, jokingly, by children because of her long hair, which at that time was about 10 inches long, and especially at times when she was combing her hair and it hung down over her face. (3) Kapus was thought of as a little man about three and one-half feet tall, very strong, with white skin. (4) Tungla were described as about the size of a child of about one and one-half years old, and as very, very strong. Tung- la were thought to call adult men boys, and were thought to be able to lift a large man easily by his arm. The first three types were considered to be bush creatures, whereas the Tungla were beings of ^^the beach and sea. However, there was contradiction by informants about the above classification of Gas types. Tungla were mentioned as being found in the bush, not only on the beach, and in rocky places. The attributes of having backward feet, and of being very strong were applied to Tungla as well as to other kinds of Gas. Several informants told of being misled by Gas, one a schoolboy, the other a 'Luluai's' wife. Gas were supposed not to be able to appear during the day. They had long hair, long fingernails, a bad smell. One man reported a long-haired Gas ten feet tall, who made the in- formant crash his bicycle. Another informant claimed that shin- ing a flashlight on a Gas caused the batteries to fail. One slightly "Cargo cult" idea about Gas was that although they have black skins like the New Irelanders, they are like Europeans in that they have plenty of money. And, finally, another story of a Gas was one in which a Gas had a baby at the same time as a woman of Kono (West coast village) and traded children with her. The Gas child was raised by the human parents. It was never able to walk, and had an enlarged head and thin little body. It came to know every- thing that happens, being able to direct people to fish, and to lost pigs. The term Gas, then, refers to a type of supernatural being about which the above scattered information is given. The Gas head, particularly when special attention is paid to the motif of the bird with a snake in its mouth, is recognizable as being present in the Museum's collections. Also the head occurs as a peg- necked object, which suggests that it could have been set onto a fabricated or solid wooden body. I did not collect the body seen in 1954. In Nevermann (1940, p. 27), the term a gas is mentioned as the name of a malanggan. One description refers to four seated figures, LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND 89 colored red (1940, p. 31); and the other to a human figure with two long pointed horns (1940, p. 28). Powdermaker (1933, p. 307) de- scribed the Gas as a spirit double of each individual, and as dwelling on that individual's clan land. It was supposed to die when its human counterpart died and it could take different forms and was rarely seen by its human aspect (1933, p. 39). Powdermaker (1933, p. 39) also reported on myths recounting meetings between humans and Gas, and also tales stressing the great strength of Gas. One such folk tale, Muk and the Gas, is given in Powdermaker (1933, pp. 39-40). I collected a similar tale in 1954 about Muk and the Tungla. In this tale, as in the one reported by Powdermaker, the Gas-Tungla are doubles of Muk the hero, are tremendously strong, are wealthy, and finally, and unfortunately, are also vengeful. Labui The Labui malanggan was the only one used in the March 10 ceremonials not made in the vicinity of Libba. It was carved in Luburua, a village about 15 miles northwest of Libba, in the days or weeks prior to March 8, when it was brought to Nou. After arriv- ing at Nou, the figure was finished and painted inside the enclosure. Labui, except for the hair, is a figure carved completely out of one piece of wood. The base is in the form of a peg. The figure is depicted as humanoid, in standing position, legs slightly bent at the knees, upper arms at the figuie's side, lower arms and hands coming forward to hold a fish-shaped form in front of the torso. Rising from the head are four tall feather-like projections. The hair is depicted by burred seeds stuck into a mastic which was smeared over the head. The actual individual who carved and painted the figure was not known to me and it was assumed that he was a Luburua man. The figure was used in the March 10 ceremony as a malanggan figure. It was set up in the same display house as Malanggatsak. The peg was thrust into the sand, thus enabling the figure to stand upright next to the large seated figure of Malanggatsak (fig. 14). Unfortunately, the kinship relationships surrounding the Labui malanggan are not well known to this writer (See fig. 18). It arrived on March 8 and was set up two days later. Labui was made and brought to Nou primarily because of Kalamogo's initiation, and because of Kalamogo's relationship to Daniel Muk. (This relation- ship is not known to this writer). Daniel Muk once lived in Libba and married Elisabet from Luburua. Following the rule of matrilo- = A Sumsar 2. amurau A= O A - 0 Nodal Daniel Elizabet Muk A Kalamogo 2. SAKWILA Clan? Telenga Moiety Fig. 18. Kinship relationships of the Labui malanggan. 90 LEWIS: ART IN NORTHERN NEW IRELAND <)1 Fig. 19. Greeting the Luburua contingent upon their arrival at Nou, March 8, 1954. Center, smiling, Sumsar. Photograph, P. H. Lewis, Neg. No. 3009. cality Daniel went to live in Luburua with his wife and her people. Daniel either belonged to Kalamogo's clan oi' to Kalamogo's father's clan, and had to do something, and had to do it from Luburua. He called upon his wife's people for assistance, and they responded by hiring two trucks and coming in large numbers and by bringing a malanggan. At the final ceremonies on March 10, Sumsar, the leader of the Luburua contingent and the father-in-law of Daniel Muk, stood 92 FIELDIANA: ANTHROPOLOGY, VOLUME 58 before the display house (which then contained Labui, Malanggat- sak, and Pu'ling) and exhorted his fellow villagers and relatives to make a good showing in payments of shillings and tobacco as they filed up to the display house. Sumsar said that he had never walked in Nou before, that Labui had made an entrance there for his people, that Daniel Muk had worked on Luburua lands, and that the bringing of Labui was the return for Daniel's work. The way in which the Luburua contingent arrived at Nou sug- gests that it was the occasion of the arrival of the Labui malanggan at Nou. The group of about 50 people arrived in two trucks, and stopped on the road above Nou. While some of the older men came down the path, about 15 younger adult men, with faces chalked and with aromatic leaves in their hair, came bounding down the hill, through the trees and bush, crying out as they came. Some carried axes and stopped to chop down a few banana trees and an areca palm. All the men, young and old, then consolidated into a group in the open area of Nou, where they were greeted by the Libba peo- ple. Sumsar and one old man from Libba shook hands (fig. 19). Although not observed by the writer, probably while this was going on, the partially carved malanggan was quietly taken into the en- closure. Gifts of money and tobacco were given to the Luburua people by Libba and Tandes people. Several objects resembling Labui were found in the Field Mu- seum (see figs. 50-52). No mention of the name was made in the ethnographic literature, nor were photographs seen of objects re- sembling Labui. Tagapa The Tagapa malanggan was used in the March 10 ceremonies at Nou. Five different renditions of the Tagapa malanggan were displayed side by side in one display house. The heads were carved and painted wood, with snail-valve eyes; the bodies were fabricated of basketry. All five bodies were made at one time, in early March, inside the enclosure. Four of the heads were carved and painted inside the enclosure from January to March, 1954. Three of these were done by Samari, and one by Eruel. The fifth head had been Fig. 20. Five Tagapa malanggan images set up in their display house. Top center and right are hanging bunches of areca nuts. Nou, March 10, 1954. FMNH Neg. No. 100594 from Kodachrome by P. H. Lewis. FMNH Catalog Numbers, left to right: 252451, 252452, 252454 (4th figure not collected), 252453. "%r fe^- "^fc__l^ ^ll^^*^ ^^ ^^fcl^ '^ ■ -^-L^,^ ^v ,iii..ii,fciiii«iiiiaf-' - ~^— pg'iMi;- _i H^ JiilllHHIWIi iillliLi • -'"JlPiiV '