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Full text of "1991 Festival of American Folklife : June 28-July 1, July l4-July 7"

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION 






* 
) 



1991 Festiva 
of American 

Folklife 







( >n the cover Manuela Gonzales /'ere;, Mayan Tzotzil weaver from San . Indres 
Larrainzar, Mexico, spins cotton with a drop spindle. Photo In Ricarclo Martinez 

On the back cover, top A sidewalkfood vendor in Jakarta fans the fire under Ins 

speciality, sate ayam (charcoal-grilled chicken) Hisportahle "kitchen is 

ornately caned in Madurese style Photo by Katrinka I bbe 

Bottom Harlan Borman hands his daughter. Kate, up to her grandfather Raymond 

Atkinson, sitting in the combine Kate is now _' >' years old and an active partu ipant 

in the family farm in Kingdom < 'ity, Missouri Photo courtesy Borman family 



SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION 



1991 Festival of 
American Folklife 



June 2 8 -July 1 
July 4-July7 



Co-sponsored by the National Park Service 



Contents 



INTR< )l>l i n >RY STATEMENTS 

The 25th Annual Festival: Land and Culture 4 
Robert McC. Adams, Secretary, Smithsonian Institution 

Presenting America's Cultural Heritage 6 
James M. Ridenour, Director, National Park Service 

The Festival of American Folklife: Building on Tradition 

Richard Kurin 

ROOTS O] RHYTHM WIMillh ["HE ROBERT JOHNSON 

Blues at the Festival: A Community Music with Global Impact 21 
Worth Long and Ralph Rinzler 

Robert Johnson in the '90s: A Dream Journey 22 
Peter Guralnik 

Robert Johnson, Blues Musician 24 
Robert Jr. Lockwood, compiled from an interview with Worth Long 

Wisdom of the Blues 21 
Willie Dixon, compiled from an interview with Worth Long 

I Will > (-"ARMING IN THE HEART] Wl i 

Family Farm Folklore 32 
Betty J. Belanus 

A Year in the Life of a Family Farmer 36 
Steven Bernts< in 

The (-hanging Role of Women on the Farm 4l 
Eleanor Arnold and an interview with Marjorie Hunt 

The Farmer and American Folklore 47 
James P. Leary 

Threshing Reunions and Threshing Talk: Recollection and Reflection in the Midwest 50 

J. Sanford Rikoon 

F< IRES1 FIELD AND SEA: FO] Kl II I IN INDi 1NESIA 

Forest. Field and Sea: Cultural Diversity in the Indonesian Archipelago 55 

Richard Kennedy 

Longhouses of East Kalimantan 61 
Timothy C. Jessup 

Environmental Knowledge and Biological Diversity in Fast Kalimantan 65 

Herwasono Soedjito 

Craft and Performance in Rural East Java 69 
1 )ede < )et< imo 

Boatbuilding Myth and Ritual in South Sulawesi 73 
Mukhlis and Darmawan M. Rahman 



LAND IN NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURES 

Knowledge and Power: Land in Native American Cultures 76 

Olivia Cadaval 

Conocimiento y Poder: La Tierra en las Cultures Indigenas 81 
Olivia Cadaval, traducido por Alicia Partnoy 

We Live in the Amazon Rainforest, the Lungs of the World 83 

Miguel Puwainchir 

Vivimos en la Amazonia, El Pulmon del Mundo 84 
Miguel Puwainchir 

Land and Subsistence in Tlingit Folklife 87 
Nora Marks Dauenhauer and Richard L. Dauenhauer 

Clans and Corporations: Society and Land of the Tlingit Indians 91 

Rosita Worl 

Ethno-Development in Taquile 95 

Kevin Healy 

The Sukci Kollus: Precolumbian Agriculture of Tiwanaku 96 
Oswaldo Rivera Sundt, translated by Charles H. Roberts 

Los Sitka Kollus: La Agricultura Precolombina del Tiwanaku 98 

Oswaldo Rivera Sundt 

Ethno-Development Among the Jalq'a 100 

Kevin Healy 

The Hopi Dictionary 101 
Emory Sekaquaptewa 

Our Zapotec Ethnic Identity 103 
Manuel Rios Morales 

Nuestra Identidad Etnica Zapoteca 104 

Manuel Rios Morales 

Politics and Culture of Indigenism in Mexico 106 
Jose Luis Krafft Vera, translated by Charles H. Roberts 

Politica y Cultura en el Presente Indigena de Mexico 108 

Jose Luis Krafft Vera 

An Excerpt from San Pedro Chenalhd: Something of its History, Stories and Customs 110 

Jacinto Arias 

Fragmento de Sail Pedro Chenalhd: Algo de sit Historia. Cuentos y Costnmhres 111 

[acinto Arias 



Festival <>l American Folklife 

© l l »l In [he Smithsonian institution 

Editor Petei Seitel 

£ "i irdinat <i \i lene Rcinigei 

Designer Joan Wolbier 

Assistant Designers Carol Barton, Jennifer Nicholson 

Typesetter I larli am' 

Printer < olorcraft 

Typeface 1T< ( larami md 

Papei \ intagc Velvet 

Insert I rosspointe Genesis Dawn 



The 25th Annual Festival: 
Land and Culture 

Robert McC. Adams 
Secretary, Smithsonian Institution 



This year, the Festival is about human rela- 
tionships to land. Culturally, land is never just 
soil and terrain. It is roamed or owned, wilder- 
ness or property. Land can have borders or be a 
path to different realms. Ideas of mother nature. 
son or daughter oi the soil, the fatherland, and 
heaven, earth and underworld, lor example, 
show how intimately our understanding of land 
is intertwined with ways of thinking about cos- 
mology, ecology, society, and personal and na- 
tional identity. 

Indonesian land punctuates sea and ocean to 
form some 13,000 volcanic islands. On these 
islands is an amazing diversity of environments, 
ranging from the sandy beaches of Sumatra to 
snowcapped mountains that rise above the rain- 
forests in Irian Java on New Guinea. To sample 
this diversity, the Festival presents cultural tradi- 
tions from three particular environments — the 
forests of Kalimantan, the fields of Java and the 
sea coast of Sulawesi kenvah and Modang 
people oi Kalimantan show us how they have 
made life possible and meaningful in the rain- 
forest. Witness their careful use of indigenous 
plants tor medicine, trees lor vernacular long- 
houses, and other forest products tor aesthetic 
and religious practices Buginese and Makassa- 
rese boatbuilders, seafarers, cooks and silk mak- 
ers demonstrate skills they use to live with and 
from the sea — the economic trade and natural 
bounty it has historically provided. And from 
East Java come village agriculturalists, rice farm- 
ers of that island's rich soil who have developed 
an intricate fabric of social, material and per- 
formance arts. These rich traditions are the ex- 
pression of a civilization whose cultural sources 
— local, Mmdu. Buddhist, Islamic — are as 
complex as any on earth. 

Halt a world away from Indonesia and much 
(loser to home is the American "heartland." 
American culture embodies a tew elemental sell- 
images with mythic stature — the frontier is 



surely one; the family farm is surely another. 
'I'he idea of the family farm also entails some ol 
our strongest values — hard work, self-reliance. 
family solidarity and community life At the Fes- 
tival, farming families from twelve midwestern 
states present their culture through family folk- 
lore and storytelling, community celebrations 
and demonstrations of work skills — from ma- 
chinery repair to computer-based management 
of breeding records. Farm families try to pre- 
serve a way of life and to remain stewards of the 
land. Hut today then task is more complex than 
it has ever been, given the economic, techno- 
logical and informational revolutions in farming. 
Tensions between an increased productivity 
through innovation on one hand and a preserva- 
tion of family lifeways and values on the other. 
animate the present challenge of living oil .tnt.\ 
caring U >r the land 

Land is also important as we begin to com- 
memorate the Columbus Quincentenary and to 
consider the meaning and consequences c >l Co- 
lumbus' voyages Five hundred years ago. the 
year before those voyages, the western hemi- 
sphere was home to a wonderful array of 
peoples, cultures and civilizations. The land was 
populated by the descendants of peoples who 
crossed over from Asia to Alaska some lens of 
thousands ol years ago. For millennia, this land 
was theirs. With a knowledge and understanding 
of this land developed over generations, native 
peoples gathered and cultivated its bounty, bred 
new crops, derived medicines to cure sickness, 
mined ores lor making tools and ornaments, 
used its earth, stone and wood for building 
homes, made dyes tor cloth and invented ways 
ot preparing and cooking food. Land and its use 
informed social, moral, religious and cosmologi- 
cal beliefs, and sacred m~h.\ secular practices 
Some of this knowledge and practice of land 
use and its symbolic elaboration in artistic forms 
are still continued among many Native American 



groups. At the Festival, culture bearers from the 
Haida, Tlingit and Tsimshian people from Alaska; 
Hopi from Arizona; Maya and Lacandon from 
Chiapas, Mexico; Zapotec and Ikood from 
Oaxaca, Mexico; Shuar, Achuar and Canelos 
Quichua from Ecuador; Jalq'a and Tiwanaku from 
Bolivia; and Taquile from Perti illustrate how the 
land in many varied environments is cared for 
and thought about, and how, almost five 
hundred years after Columbus, the wise and hu- 
mane use, the knowledge and power of land 
must be re-'discovered." 

The Festival itself is no less about land. The 
Festival is mounted annually in a symbolically 
powerful place, the National Mall of the United 
States, surely among our nation's most sacred 
plots of land. In the Festival's 25 year history, it 
has brought more than 16,000 of the world's mu- 
sicians, craftspeople, storytellers, cooks, perform- 
ers, workers, ritual specialists and others from 
every part of the United States and more than 50 
nations to the National Mall. Farmers and fisher- 
men, bluesmen and quilters, taro growers and 
matachines, bricklayers and potters, representing 
only a sample of human cultural diversity, have 
demonstrated their knowledge, skill, aesthetics 
and wisdom. In doing so, they have told their 
story to some 20 million visitors. They have 
brought issues of cultural conservation, survival, 
continuity and creativity to the symbolic center of 
our nation, to national and to international con- 
sciousness. 

The Festival is the foremost example of a re- 
search-based presentation ol living culture. It has 



enriched the spirits < >f the people — artists, schol- 
ars, government officials and visiting children and 
adults — who annually come to meet each other 
on the nation's front lawn. The Festival has 
shown that people of different backgrounds, 
beliefs and sensibilities can indeed talk together 
and understand one another if given the oppor- 
tunity. And the Festival has had strong impacts 
back home, on the creative lives of individuals 
and the institutional life of communities. 

The Festival does not celebrate itself loudly, 
perhaps in keeping with the character of the 
people it represents. The Festival resists commer- 
cialization, glitter and stylization. It is nonetheless 
a complex undertaking, undergirded by extensive 
research, detailed logistics, intricate funding ar- 
rangements and the like. The Festival is some- 
times messy and unpredictable, but that is be- 
cause it speaks in and through many voices. It is 
a 20th century genre of complex human interac- 
tion invented to get people to talk, listen, share, 
understand and appreciate one another, and to 
do it in a way that is indeed filled with fun and 
sometimes wonder. The Festival is firmly rooted 
in specially endowed land — land that belongs 
to and provides a place for everyone. The Na- 
in in.il Mall n< an ishes the mind, the spiril and the 
identities of those who stand upon it. Our Festi- 
val on the Mall helps empower cultures pre- 
sented here to invite you to cross boundaries not 
regularly crossed and hear the voices of the 
earth's peoples, from around the world and from 
<. 1< ise t< > home. 



Presenting America's 
Cultural Heritage 

James M. Ridenour 
Director, National Park Service 



Ever since L973, the National Park Service 
has been a co-sponsor oi the Festival of Ameri- 
can Folklife on the National Mall in Washington, 
D.C. We are proud to join with the .Smithsonian 
in celebrating this, the 2Sth annual Festival. The 
Festival is a nationally and internationally ac- 
claimed model of research and public educa- 
tion, which informs our citizens and foreign 
visitors about the rich and diverse cultural heri- 
tage of our nation and the larger world. 

This year also marks the 75th anniversary of 
the National Park Sen ice. The National Park 
Service is actively at work, even day through 
out the United Mates, to preserve and protect 
the natural, historical and cultural heritage we 
all hold so dear. The National Park Service is a 
steward tor the American people of Yellow- 
stone National Park. Grand Canyon National 
Park, the Statue of Liberty, the Lincoln Memorial 
Am\ literally hundreds of other natural areas, 
historical sites and monuments that grace the 
landscape and the public consciousness of our 
nati< >n. 

We have worked with numerous local, stale 
Mid regional agencies throughout the United 
States to promote the preservation, understand- 
ing and interpretation oi folklife and grassroots 
cultural traditions. We have cooperated closely 
with the American Folklife Center at the Library 
ol Congress m developing cultural conservation 
policies and specific research protects with Low- 
ell National Historical Park and now an Acadian 
Cultural ("enter in Maine. Ongoing festivals, per- 
formance programs and skills demonstrations 



such as the National Folk Festival held at 
America's Industrial Park in Johnstown, Pennsyl- 
vania, and others at Jean Lafitte National Histori- 
cal Park in Louisiana. Golden Gate National Rec- 
reation Area in California, Hawaii Volcanoes 
National Park, Chamizal National Memorial Park 
in Texas. Blue Ridge National Parkway in Vir- 
ginia and North Carolina. Cuyahoga National 
Re< nation Area in Ohio, and Virgin Islands 
National Park on St. John testify to our commit- 
ment 

This year, at the Festival of American Folklife 
And beginning in October at Columbus Pla/a, 
Union Station And in other venues, the National 
Park Sen ice will develop exhibitions, programs 
and publications to mark the Columbus Quin- 
centenary. The Quincentenary provides an op- 
portune moment lor all Americans to re-exam- 
ine and re-consider the history of our hemi- 
sphere and its varied peoples and cultures The 
National Park Sen ice is proud to play a kev role 
and to join with the Smithsonian to make that 
history accessible' to the broadest public In 
visiting the National Mall And many other na- 
tional parks, sites and monuments, one can 
observe not only remnants of that five hundred 
year history, but also its results in the practices 
and beliefs ol living cultures. Understanding 
how our cultural history was made is of great 
importance for Americans and for all the worlds 
people. It is a knowledge that we can build 
upon as we begin to shape our history and cul- 
ture in the next live hundred years. 



The Festival of 

American Folklife: 

Building on Tradition 



Richard Kurin 



This summer marks the 2Sth annual Festival of 
American Folklife. Over the years more than 
16,000 musicians, dancers, craftspeople, storytell- 
ers, cooks, workers, and other bearers of tradi- 
tional culture from every region of the United 
States and every part of the globe have come to 
the National Mall in Washington to illustrate the 
art, knowledge, skill and wisdom developed 
within their local communities. They have sung 
and woven, cooked and danced, spun and 
stitched a tapestry of human cultural diversity; 
they have aptly demonstrated its priceless value. 
Their presence has changed the National Mall 
and the Smithsonian Institution. Their perform- 
ances and demonstrations have shown millions 
of people a larger world. And their success has 
encouraged actions, policies and laws that pro- 
mote human cultural rights. The Festival has been 
a vehicle for this. And while it has changed in 
various ways over the years, sometimes only to 
change back once again, the Festival's basic pur- 
pose has remained the same. Its energy and 
strength is rooted in the very communities and 
cultural exemplars it seeks to represent, and in 
small, but sometimes significant ways, to help 

The First Festival 

The marble museums of the Smithsonian 
Institution are filled with beautiful hand- 
worn things made long ago by forgotten 
American craftsmen. Nostalgic reminders 
of our folk craft heritage, the museum 
exhibits are discreetly displayed, precisely 
labeled, and dead 

But the folk craft tradition has not died. 
Yesterday it burst into life before the as- 
tonished eyes of hundreds of visitors on 
the Mall. (Paul Richard in 71.ie Washington 
Post, July 2, 1967, on the first Festival ol 
American Folklife) 



Mary McGrory, then a reporter for The Evening 
Star, wrote, 

Thanks to S. Dillon Ripley, Secretary of the 
Smithsonian Institution, thousands of 
people have been having a ball on the 
Mall, watching dulcimer-makers, quilters, 
potters and woodcarvers and listing to 
music. "My thought," said Ripley, "is that 
we have dulcimers in cases in the mu- 
seum, but how many people have actually 
heard one or seen one being made?" 

During the mid-1960s the Smithsonian Institu- 
tion re-evaluated its approach to understanding 
and interpreting American culture and its atten- 
dant institutional responsibilities. Secretary Ripley 
reported his initiative to mount the first Festival 
to the Board of Regents, the Smithsonian's gov- 
erning body, in February, 1967: 

A program sponsored by the Smithsonian 
should reflect the Institution's founding 
philosophy and current role. Although it 
has the world's largest collections of 
American folk artifacts, the Smithsonian, 
like all museums in our nation, fails to 
present folk culture fully and accurately. 
Through the Bureau of American Ethnol- 
ogy, it has pioneered the collection, ar- 
chiving, analysis and publication of Ameri- 
can Indian cultural data, [but] neither the 
Smithsonian nor any other research institu- 
tion has employed the methods of cultural 
anthropology in an extensive lieldwork 
program in American folk cultures. 

The lack of museum expertise and the 
absence of adequate field programs in 
American folklife studies has resulted from 
a general ignorance ol the abundance of 
our traditional cultures. Related to the 
collections and based on the philosophy 
of the Smithsonian, an exposition of the 




Dejan 's ( llympia Brass Band from Louisiana performs on the National Mall <// the first Festival in 1967 Festival stages 
have generally remained sun ill. encouraging intimate audience interaction Photo Smithsonian Institution 



folk aesthetic <>n the Mall accompanied by 
a seminar would be provocative. 

A program presenting traditional crafts- 
men and dancers as well as musicians 
would convincingly demonstrate the vigor 
ol our tolk traditions. At an interdiscipli- 
nary seminar, individuals with mutual 
interests who are not ordinarily in commu- 
nication — including scholars, government 
and foundation representatives as well as 
concerned laymen — will explore' the 
significance oi the traditions displayed. 

Secretary Ripley also envisioned the eventual 
formation of an American Folklife Institute that 
would establish standards for research and inter- 
pretation of our folkways" and "enable the Smith- 
sonian to provide the basis for a total view of 
American culture." 

James Morns, then Director of the 
Smithsonian's Museum Service, Ralph Rinzler, 
coming from the Newport Folk Foundation as an 
applied folklore consultant, and others took up 
the task and the leadership of the project. Morris 
became Director of the newly constituted Divi- 
sion of Performing Arts. Rinzler became the 



Festival's Director And Marion Hope became the 
protect assistant and then Festival coordinator 
and assistant director. 

Some in the U.S. Congress felt that Ripley's 
plans for the National Mall — which in addition 
to a Festival of American Folklife included a 
carousel, outdoor evening concerts at the muse- 
ums, and a kite-flying contest — were frivolous, 
that they would turn the Mall into a "midway." 
Hut Ripley and his supporters prevailed. Ripley 
thought it made sense for the Smithsonian to go 
outdoors and establish what some members of 
Congress termed "a living museum." Education 
could be tun. Serious purposes could be accom- 
plished on the nation's front lawn, historically 
known as "Smithsonian Park " The Civil Rights 
marches had already dramatically demonstrated 
this. 

Professors and scientists had their universities 
and publications; fine artists had their art galleries 
and museums; fine musicians had their sympho- 
nies and operas. The work of popular and com- 
mercial artists was proclaimed in the mass media 
of television, radio, recordings jnd magazines. 
Where could the voices of "folks back home'' be 



heard so they too would contribute to our sense 
of national culture, wisdom and art? Simply, the 
National Mall provided just such a platform for 
people to speak to the rest of the nation. 
Through the Festival, everyone could be repre- 
sented; it made good sense as part of the na- 
tional museum charged with presenting the story 
of human accomplishments. Members of Con- 
gress understood this meant that their constitu- 
ents, the people, the folks back home, would 
have a place in the cultural life of the nation. 
Texans and Ohioans, Mississippians and Hawai- 
ians, Anglo-Americans from Appalachia and 
American Indians from the Plains, new and older 
urban immigrants, children and elders, miners, 
cowboys, carpenters and many others would all 
have a place — a special place — to represent 
their cultural contributions. 

The first Festival included a variety <>1 musi- 
cians and craftspeople from across the country 
— Bessie Jones and the Georgia Sea Island Sing- 
ers, Moving Star Hall Singer Janie Hunter and 
coil basketmaker Louise Jones from South Caro- 
lina, dulcimer maker Edd Presenell from North 
Carolina, Dejan's Olympia Brass Band from New 
Orleans, Navajo sandpainter Harry Belone, 
Acoma Pueblo potter Marie Chino, the Yomo 
Toro Puerto Rican Band and an Irish Ceilidh 
Band from New York, cowboy singer Glenn 
Ohrlin, bluesman John Jackson, Libba Cotton, 
Russian Glinka dancers from New Jersey, King 
Island Eskimo dancers from Alaska, and country 
blues singer Fred McDowell among many others. 

The first Festival represented a a invergence 
and distillation of several ideas. The name. 
"folklife" was taken from the Pennsylvania 
Folklife Festival and Don Yoder's scholarly adop- 
tion of the European term. The Festival's juxta- 
position of musical performance with crafts, nar- 
rative sessions, foodways and sales came from 
Rinzler's pioneering experience ai the Newport 
Festival. The dominant idea — that of a festival 
combining art, education and the struggle for 
cultural recognition — came from Rinzler 
through the influences of ethnomusicologist 
Charles Seeger, social activist and educator Myles 
Horton, and folklorist A. L Lloyd. 

From its inception, the Festival was to have a 
strong scholarly base. Festival presentations 
would indicate the cultural and social history of 
featured traditions. It would represent them ac- 
curately. Concurrent with the first Festival was an 
American Folklife Conference, organized by Mor- 
ns. Rinzler and Henry Glassie. then state folklor- 
ist for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Con- 
ference participants included Smithsonian cura- 



tors, folklorists D. K. Wilgus, Richard Dorson, 
Roger Abrahams, Austin Fife, Archie Green and 
Don Yoder, anthropologist Ward Goodenough, 
cantometrician Alan Lomax, cultural geographer 
Lied Kniffen. architect James Marston Fitch, rec- 
ord producer Moses Asch. historians, educators 
and other scholars from Mexico, Ireland. Canada, 
and Switzerland. The conference addressed top- 
ics of American and international folklife studies, 
the relationship between folklife and history, 
applied folklife. and folklife in schools, museums, 
communities and government agencies. 

In the first Festival and Conference, several 
important ideas emerged. The study ol grassroots 
traditional cultures was a multidisciplinary proj- 
ect; factors affecting the survival of cultural tradi- 
tions in contemporary life had to be addressed, 
the study and presentation of cultures, through 
schools and other institutions was an essential 
part of public education; the Festival provided a 
i ( illaborative means for scholars and culture bear- 
ers to discuss and present their understandings ol 
particular traditions and communities. 

The Festival and Conference project was 
viewed in 1967 as part of a larger strategy to 
study, present and conserve traditional grassroots 
cultures. The last session of the conference was 
devoted to planning for a National, or American 
Folklore Institute. The Institute would sponsor 
intensive scholarly fieldwork on American folk 
cultures, stimulate and preserve folk traditions 
through economic and educational assistance, 
produce an annual festival, encourage regional 
festivals and seminars, publish scholarly mono- 
graphs and seminar proceedings as well as more 
popular works, produce documentary films, 
maintain an archive, compile resource guides for 
folk culture, disseminate educational materials to 
schools, advise other government agencies on 
cultural conditions related to their programs, and 
develop proposals tor a national folk perform- 
ance company and a national folklife museum. 

The first Festival was indeed a public success, 
with more than 431,000 visitors attending As 
Alan Lomax said. 

In affairs like this we realize our strength. 
We realize how beautiful we are. Black is 
beautiful. Appal. ulna is beautiful and even 
old, tired, Washington sometimes is beau 
tiful when the American people gather to 
sing and fall in love with each other again. 

At the festival people do talk, meet, and un- 
derstand something of each other as they easily 
cross social boundaries usually not negotiated in 
their everyday life. And through the Festival, 



9 




tradition hearers enlarge the measure of cultural 
pride they brought with them to the Mall and 
bring it back home, energized by the experience 
of presenting then traditions in a national urn- 
text While not all ot the suggestions developed 
m the 1967 American Folklife Conference have 
been realized, most ot them have indeed come to 
pass 

Festival Benchmarks 

It is difficult, if not impossible, to summarize 
all the milestones, all the accomplishments of the 
Festival of American Folklife. Key benchmarks 
merely signal its scope and contributions to 
scholarship, muscology, government policy and 
the life of cultural communities themselves. 

Community Involvement and Staffing 

The Festival was intended to help present and 
interpret in a direct, public way the sometimes 
overlooked artistic creations < >l America's diverse, 
grassroots cultural communities. Influenced by 
the Civil Rights Movement, the Festival was to 
provide a means whereby many Americans could 
tell their story and exhibit their aesthetics, their 
knowledge, their skill and then wisdom to the 
rest of the nation Crucial to tins process was the 
involvement of community members, not onl\ as 
performers, but also as audience and as curatorial 
and pn ifessional staff 

In the late 1960s, the Smithsonian museums 
attracted vcr\ few visitors from minority commu- 
nities and had only one minority curator. Follow- 
ing the first Festival, Rinzler met with civil rights 
activist, singer and cultural historian Bernice Rea- 
gon, Anacostia Museum Director John Kinard, 



Ernie Cornelison from Bybee, Kentucky, 
demonstrates </ Dutch American pottery 
tradition, preserved in his family for 
generations, at the 1968 Festival < rafts 
processes demonstrated ill the Festival 
typically invite close observation and 
questions Photo by Robert Yellin, 
Smithsonian Institution 



writer Julius Lester and others to 
develop programs through which 
African Americans in Washington 
might see the Festival and the 
Smithsonian as worthy of their par- 
ticipation. Similar efforts were di- 
rected toward other communities 
traditionally left out of Smithsonian 
museums and activities 

These efforts led to the appoint- 
ment of Clydia Nahwooksy, the first 
Native American professional at the Smithsonian, 
and to the establishment of the festival's American 
Indian Awareness program Portions of the 1968 
Festival were held at the Anacostia Neighborhood 
Museum An African Diaspora Advisory Group 
was formed in I 1 ) - I to develop programs on Afri- 
can-derived cultures, foster community involve- 
ment, and engage scholars in finding solutions to 
questions ol cultural representation Gerald Davis, 
Reagon, James Early, Worth Long, Roland Free- 
man, d\~\d many others became involved. Over the 
years, the Festival played an important role of 
bringing scholars and cultural thinkers to the 
Smithsonian from previously unrepresented or 
underrepresented communities. Many, such as 
Reagon. Early, Manuel Melendez, Alicia Gonzalez, 
Rayna Green, Fred Nahwooksy have held posi- 
tions of increasing responsibility and scope within 
the Smithsi inian. 

The Festival also provided an opportunity for 
networks ot minority scholars to develop. Free- 
man, a documentary photographer, and Long, a 
civil rights community organizer, teamed up in 
197-r to survey and document the folklife of 
Mississippi's Black communities for the- Festival; 
over the years they have collaborated on many 
projects, and are working together again this year, 

The Festival has long attempted to provide 
research, training and presentational experience to 
members ot minority communities. This has 
served two purposes. On one hand (lie Festival 
has helped enhance community self-documenta- 
tion Afn\ presentation. On the other, tile dis- 
courses of tile Festival, the Smithsonian and a 
broad public have' been enriched with the per- 
spectives ol minority professional and lav scholars 



ID 



on their own community's cultures and on 
broader issues of social and cultural history. 

This kind of involvement has become a regu- 
lar feature of the Festival. Field research con- 
ducted to help select traditions and participants 
for the Festival is typically done by trained and 
lay scholars from the studied communities them- 
selves. When Hawaiians, Virgin Islanders. Sene- 
galese, or members of a deaf community are pre- 
sented to the public at the Festival, scholars from 
those communities usually frame the presenta- 
tions with background information. When this is 
not possible, presentations are done by scholars 
who, though not of the community, have col- 
laborated closely with local scholars. 

This ongoing commitment to cultural dialogue 
took the form of a Summer Folklore Institute in 
1989 and 1990. Hundreds of lay scholars work in 
communities across the United States document- 
ing, preserving and presenting their community's 
traditions without benefit of professional training, 
institutional networks or adequate human and fi- 
nancial resources. The Institute, organized 
around the Festival, exposed fellows, most from 
minority backgrounds, to techniques and meth- 
ods used within the field. It also provided a 
means whereby they could meet one another as 
well as academic and museum scholars and inter- 
ested public officials whose help they might draw 
upon. The Festival provided a fertile field for 
discussing, illustrating and examining questions 
of cultural documentation and presentation for 
the Institute's fellows. Just as the Festival has. the 
Institute has assisted community-level work on 
local cultures by encouraging its practitioners. 

TJje Program Book 

At the 1968 Festival, a program book accom- 
panied Festival presentations. Noted scholars 
from a variety of disciplines addressed general 
issues of folklore and folklife and the specific 
traditions illustrated in the Festival in a writing 
style accessible to public audiences. In 1970 the 
Festival program book included many documen- 
tary photographs, recipes, statements by and 
interviews with craftspeople and musicians. It 
attempted to bring the many voices of the Festi- 
val event to its printed publication. Over the 
years, the program book has included seminal 
and informative articles on traditions and issues 
presented by Festival programs. The contents of 
the 24 program books provide a compendium of 
multidisciplinary and multivocal folklore scholar- 
ship, with articles on regional American culture. 
American Indian culture, the cultures of African 
Americans and of other peoples of the diaspora. 



on ethnicity, community musics, biographical pro- 
files of important musicians, verbal arts, deaf cul- 
ture, material culture, vernacular architecture, 
foodways, communities and community celebra- 
tions, occupational folklife, children's folklore, the 
folklore of the elderly, the cultures of other coun- 
tries, and issues of cultural policy. Several articles 
have focused on institutional practice and reflected 
on the production of the Festival itself — the ideas 
used to develop programmatic themes, to decide 
on who is to be represented and how and why. 
Program books are broadly distributed to the gen- 
eral public every year and used in university class- 
rooms for teaching about American cultural tradi- 
tions. Many states and locales have reprinted ar- 
ticles for use in their schools. 

Featured State and Region 

First in b«i<S and then in ensuing years, the Fes- 
tival adopted and in some cases developed innova- 
tive categories for understanding and presenting 
folklife traditions. In 1968 the Festival began its 
ongoing concern with the regional cultures of 
America with a distinct, "featured state" program 
about Texas. The program illustrated that regional 
culture often crosses ethnic communities and pro- 
vides a particular cultural identity and aesthetic 
style. At the same time, regions generally host con- 
siderable cultural variation and diversity. Since 
then. Festival programs have been produced for 
even region of the United States and for 17 states 
and territories. 

Regional and state programs have been impor- 
tant in projecting to the American public a knowl- 
edge of the talents, sensibilities and values of their 
fellow citizens and neighbors. John Waihee, Gov- 
ernor of Hawaii, eloquently spoke of this at the 
L989 Festival. 

It is with joy that we bring what is special 
about Hawaii to you, which is the spirit of 
aloha, because we are more than wonderful 
weather, or beautiful beaches or powerful 
volcanoes. We are a people. We are people 
from many different backgrounds, and yet 
one. in the middle of God's Pacific, based 
on our native Hawaiian heritage, which 
binds us together in a spirit of love and 
pride, and built upon those who came later 
for a better lite, reaching out so that their 
children's future would be secure. All of this 
we bring to Washington. To you, from the 
community of communities, to the nation 1 >l 
nations, we bring our spirit of aloha. 

Male and regional programs at the Festival have- 
also been important in generating lasting institu- 



I 1 




Horsemen nice down the Mall for the Oklahoma program featured at the 1982 Festival The Festival's presentations 

attempt to contextualize performances and skills, sometimes through large-scale structures, often through directed 

attention to a particular individual Photo by Jeff Tinsley, Smithsonian Institution 



tional effects hack home. Working in concert 
with the Folk Arts Program at the National En- 
dowment for the Arts, the Festival has provided a 
useful means of encouraging folk arts programs 
within vari< ius states 

Senator Mark Hatfield of < )regon spoke of this 
impact at the L978 Festival: 

This is a national Festival, but not just for 
Washington, DC. My congressional col- 
leagues and I are very much aware of the 
impact this Festival has had on our own 
states and regions For example, my state. 
Oregon, has had two successful folklife 
festivals as a result ol the Festival here \ 
voting woman who did the fieldwork for 
the 1976 Bicentennial festival returned 
home to Oregon to direct a north coast 
festival in Astoria in 1977 and a central 
Oregon festival this year. The festival dem- 
onstrated the breadth ol folkways in just 
one state. From loggers and fishermen on 
the coast to buckeroos and smoke jumpers 
in the rugged central part of the state. 
These regional festivals demonstrate that 
the cultural traditions brought out by the 



Smithsonian are worthy of respect, cele- 
bration and scholarship on the home turf. 
For a century, I believe the Smithsonian 
has been noted primarily for the collection 
ol artifacts ol the American experience 
and has become the nations attic Hut it is 
the life of the American folk that we cele- 
brate here today, not their encased arti- 
facts as important as they may be. for it is 
the people themselves here in festivals 
like this across the country that provide us 
with an understanding of our own com- 
munity. No curator can convey through a 
glass display case what the people them- 
selves can say to us directly. 

Most states have remounted a festival program 
back home — Oklahoma in 1 C ).S2. Michigan, ev- 
en' year since being on the Mall in 1987, Massa- 
chusetts in 1988, and Hawaii in 1990. The U.S. 
Virgin Islands plans to remount the festival on St 
Croix later this year and next year on St. Thomas, 
States have also used the festival to develop their 
own on-going programs for the study, presenta- 
tion and conservation of local cultures. Michigan 
has clone this effectively; Hawaii is now consider- 



12 



Iroquois teenagers play and demon- 
strate the Indian-originated game i / 
lacrosse at the 1975 Festival- The 
Festival's presentation of American 

Indian culture has spanned music and 
dance, crafts, food ways, architecture. 
storytelling, ritual performance, subsis- 
tence activities, spurts and efforts at self- 
documentation and cultural revitaliza- 
tion. Photo by Jim Pickerell, Smithsonian 
Institution 



ing a collaboration with the Smith- 
sonian for a cultural institute; and 
the Virgin Islands, based upon its 
experience, is poised to establish a 
state folk arts program, pass a Cul- 
tural Preservation Act and establish 
a Virgin Islands Cultural Institute. 

The impact of such state and re- 
gional programs is not limited to 
formal institutions, but also extends 
to participating artists, cultural ex- 
emplars and scholars. For some, 
the Festival represents a personal 
highlight, a benchmark from which 
they take encouragement and inspir.it 1 



Native American Programs 

The 1970 Festival expanded to include a uni- 
fied program focussed on Native American cul- 
tures. While the Smithsonian's long established 
Bureau of American Ethnology had collected and 
documented evidences of previous lifeways, the 
Festival's thrust was to complement this with the 
rich dance, craft, foodways and ritual traditions of 
contemporary Indian peoples. The Festival 
worked closely with members of American In- 
dian tribes to document and present traditions on 
the Mall. Collaboration in planning the Festival, 
in training community people, and having Ameri- 
can Indians speak directly to the public marked 
the development of these programs over the 
years. 

Since 1970, representatives from more than 
130 Native American tribes have illustrated their 
cultures at the Festival. Survey programs were 
followed with thematic presentations, so that in 
1978, 1979 and 1980, American Indians demon- 
strated the uses of vernacular architecture, the 
skills and knowledge needed for its construction 
and its ecological soundness. In 1989 an Ameri- 
can Indian program examined the access to natu- 
ral resources necessary for the continuity of tribal 
cultures; that year's program was accompanied 
by the publication of Thomas Vennum's influen- 




tial Wild Rice and the ( )jibway People. 

The American Indian program at this year's 
Festival examines use and knowledge of the land 
among Native American groups from Alaska and 
the U.S. Southwest. Mexico, the Andes, and 
Ecuadorian rainforest. In a continuation of the 
dialogue begun through the Festival model. Na- 
tive American Festival participants will, during 
and after the Festival, work with staff and cura- 
tors of the Smithsonian's new National Museum 
of the American Indian to help shape its opera- 
tions and plan its initial exhibits. 

Working Americans and 
Occupational Folklife 

The 1971 Festival marked the beginning of 
another series of programs, one concerned with 
the occupational folklife of working Americans. 
Rarely presented publically as culture prior to the 
Festival of American Folklife, occupational 
folklife ci insists < >t the skills, knowledge and lore 
pei >ple develi >p as members of occupational 
groups or communities. In 1971, during a sum- 
mer of great national division, young people 
harboring stereotypes of people in hard hats had 
the opportunity to meet, talk with and reach a 
greater understanding of construction workers. 
Since then. Festival programs have illustrated the 
folklife of meat cutters, bakers, garment workers, 
carpenters and joiners, cowboys, farmers, stone 



L3 




Logger Gary Winnop of Sitka, Alaska, checks rigging at the 1984 

Festival < Occupational presentations have seen bams, threshers, 

livestock, railroad tracks and cars, building frames, boats 

and computers on the Vlall to help workers demonstrate 

and explain how they 1 work for a living 

Photo b\ lull Ploskonka, Smithsonian Institution 



masons, oil and gas workers, sheet metal wink- 
ers, railroad workers, seafarers, truck and taxi 
drivers, bartenders, firefighters and in 1986, even 
trial lawyers, who demonstrated their dramatic, 
strategic, storytelling and people-reading skills 

Some occupational groups and organizations, 
such as the AFL-CN ) Labor studies Center and 
the American Trial Lawyers Association, have 
used their Festival experience in self-presenta- 
tion, in turning work skills into performance, to 
study and interpret then occupational culture 
Programs in the Festival have also resulted in 
longer term research studies and documentary 
films, such as Robert McCarl's D.C. Firefighters for 
the Smithsonian Folklife Studies series, and Mar- 
lone Hunt's 1984 Academy and Emmy Award 
winning film, The Stone < 'arvers 



Folklife Legislation 

The 1971 Festival also was the setting for what 
Oklahoma Senator Fred Harris called, "a folk 
hearing down on the Mall." Senator Harris, co- 
sponsor of a bill called the American Folklife 
F< mndation Act, felt that 

American cultures have not been viewed 
with the pride they warrant; too often, 
they have been scorned as the life-style ol 
an uncultured lower class. Nothing Ameri- 
can was allowed to bear the label "cul- 
ture." We had no national policy of appre- 
ciation and support for America's folklife. 

The legislation was proposed as an effort to 
invest in the culture ol America's common man. 
The bill, according to Harris. 

says that the country fiddler need not feel 
uncultured simply because his fiddle does 
not produce a concert tone: it says that the 
pottery ofjugtown, North Carolina, and 
the sandpainting <>l the southwestern Indi- 
ans are artistic treasures in the same sense 
as those from the dynasties of China; it 
says that the black bluesmen along the 
Brazos Valley in Texas are recognized as 
pure artists and welcome as a national 
treasure; it says that the American Indian 
philosopher has something urgently im- 
portant lor America today and that society 
wants to hear him as well as the ancient 
Greeks; it saws thai the total lifestyles ol 
Swedish Americans in Milwaukee, of Pol- 
ish Americans in Chicago and of Italian 
Americans in Boston have brought a per- 
spective and a contribution to this country 
that has enobled us as a societj , and it 
says that the bluegrass band has devel- 
oped a music with a complexity and rich- 
ness that will grow ,wk\ that will endure 
always as a living monument to American 
musical genius. In short, the bill says that 
there is a vast cultural treasure in 
America's common man, and that our 
society will be a better one if we locals on 
that treasure and build on it. 

The bill defined folklife and called for the 
establishment of an American Folklife Foundation 
that would give grants, loans and scholarships to 
groups and individuals to organize folklife festi- 
vals, exhibits and workshops, to support re- 
search, scholarship and training, to establish ar- 
chives and material and documentary collections, 
and lo develop and to disseminate educational 
materials relating to folklife. It was modeled on a 



I i 



bill first proposed by Texas Senator Ralph Yar- 
borough in 1969 and inspired by the Festival of 
American Folklife, by the initial 1967 conference 
and by the subsequent interest the conference 
had generated. Sen. Harris and Rep. Thompson 
of New Jersey, the sponsor of the companion bill 
in the House of Representatives, chaired the pub- 
lic "folk hearing" on the Mall at the Festival. Festi- 
val participants Dewey Balfa, a Cajun fiddler from 
Louisiana, Barbara Farmet and Rosetta Ruyle, 
American Indians from the Northwest Coast, 
Florence Reece a coal-mining wife and singer 
from Tennessee, building tradesman Phil Ricos, 
and others testified at the hearing as did singer 
and folk documentor Mike Seeger, folklorists 
Archie Green and Francis Utely, and Festival 
American Indian programs coordinator, Clydia 
Nahwooksy. 

The bill was not voted upon in 1971 but laid 
the legislative groundwork for the establishment 
of two other federal programs — the Folk Arts 
Program at the National Endowment for the Arts, 
and the American Folklife Center at the Library of 
Congress. The former assumed responsibility for 
grant-making to individuals and local, state and 
regional arts agencies, while the latter, under the 
terms of the 1976 American Folklife Preservation 
Act. concentrated on archival collections, folklife 
research and other programs. 

Old Ways in the New World 

While the emphasis of the Festival was on 
American folk traditions, staff folklorists and oth- 
ers had interests in the root traditions In mi which 
many American traditions had derived. In 1973 
the Festival initiated the first of a series of annual 
programs on "Old Ways in the New World." 
These programs sought to research and present 
the ways in which traditional practices of com- 
munity and ethnic identity, rooted in the "old 
world," were perserved and transformed in the 
American context. Programs like the one on 
Cajun culture in Louisiana examined this pr< >cess 
through music, and rather than seeing immigrants 
as dispossessed of culture, presented examples < >t 
living cultural continuity, vitality and creativity. 
These programs fostered pride and. in some 
cases such as among Cajuns and Irish Americans. 
local renaissances of traditional cultural forms. 
Folks whose traditions had been devalued even 
by themselves and their children reinvested en- 
ergy in those traditions. Cajun fiddler Dewey 
Balfa, who appreared at the 1964 Newport Folk 
Festival at the urging of Rinzler and came away 
promising "to take the applause that echoed in 
my ears back to Louisiana," expressed this point 



of view at the L982 Festival. Said Balfa, 

It matters not what part or what nationality 
you are. You should be proud of your na- 
tionality, you should be proud of your re- 
gion. 1 want to respect your culture, you 
respect my culture. And if we ever learn to 
do this, America is a beautiful country, but 
it would be even more beautiful. And we 
can do that. Some of us has some work to 
do, but I think we are all together. We can 
do that. 

Balfa. now retired as a school bus driver, but 
still playing his fiddle, was recently appointed an 
adjunct professor at Southwest Louisiana State 
College to convey his knowledge of Cajun culture 
to the next generation. 

Old Ways in the New World programs from 
1973 to 1976 focused on ethnic groups with roots 
in Great Britain, Yugoslavia, Sweden, Norway. 
Finland, Tunisia, Greece, Germany, Italy, Lebanon, 
Japan and Mexico. They generally reunited Ameri- 
can communities with cultural exemplars from 
"back home." The connection between an Ameri- 
can immigrant group, whether newly arrived or 
long settled, and its root population has continued 
to be important in Festival research and program- 
ming. The impact of these combinations on per- 
forming artists, craftspeople and musicians was 
sometimes profound. Said Balfa in 1989 when at 
the Festival with French-style fiddlers from West- 
ern France, Quebec, New England, North Dakota 
and Louisiana, 

This afternoon we were all [together] doing 
a workshop. I imagined in my mind while 
this was going on how long it would have 
taken me to travel all these miles and hear 
this music. I got it in one hour on the Mall, 
and I think that is beautiful. 

The Old Ways in the New World concept 
framed the nuvd to include in our cultural history 
the new immigrant groups reaching American 
shores as a result of the 1965 immigration act and 
the war in Southeast Asia. Presentations of these 
groups at the Festival coincided with the 
Smithsonian's establishment of a Research Institute 
on Immigration and Ethnic Studies headed by Roy 
Bryce-Laporte. 

Recognizing similarities in the immigrant experi- 
ence between different eras and from different 
continents prompted a program at the 1988 Festi- 
val on "Migration to Metropolitan Washington: 
Making a New Place Home." African American. 
Chinese, Oromo, Amhara. Salvadoran and other 
immigrant communities were brought together to 



l c > 



illustrate cultural processes which they all 
shared, and winch, when understood, could 
help promote neighborly intercultural ex- 
changes in an urban environment. 

Programmatic interest in newly immigrant 
communities and their interactions has contin- 
ued in the research work carried out by staff 
folklorist Olivia Cadaval on Salvadoran and 
Latino communities in Washington, D.(. An- 
other researcher, Frank Proschan, is working on 
the recovery and conservation of Kmhmu ver 
bal art in collaboration with elders and la) 
scholars in a community widely disbursed geo 
graphically throughout the United States ( in 
rently, we are engaged in a research project on 
Soviet American and cognate Soviet cultures 
resulting from a 1988 Festival program on So- 
Met musics. Joint teams ol American and Soviet 
researchers are conducting fieldwork on 
Bukharin Jewish communities in 1 zbekistan 
and m Queens, New York; on Old Believers in 
southern Russia and in Oregon and California; 
Ukranians in the Soviet I nion and U.S. cities; 
and other such root and cognate communities 
The project examines the transformations of 
identity and folklife within these communities 
and will probably result in a Festival program in 
the mid-1990s. 

The ( )ld Ways in the \e\\ World programs 
involved cultural exemplars from some id na- 
tions in the l : esti\al and provided a means for 
the American public to approach cultures and 
peoples usually tar removed from them. In 1978 
the Festival began "featured country" programs 
with the participation ol Mexico and Mexican 
Americans. Such country programs as those on 
Korea, India, Japan, France, the Soviet Union, 
Senegal and this year. Indonesia, provide Festi- 
val visitors with an opportunity to see artistic 
and cultural expressions rarely glimpsed 
through mass media. These programs also pro- 
side an opportunity tor close collaborative ties 
between American and international scholars 
and sometimes even influence cultural policies 
in the represented nation The UJSS Festival 
program, "Mela: An Indian lair.' was accom- 
plished with strong collaboration ol Indian 
folklorists, community activists, designers, and 
local communities who were struggling to 
maintain their artistic traditions This program, 
conceptually and aesthetically organized b\ 
Indian principles and sensibilities, provided a 
powerful cultural representation, which not 
onl\ gave visitors a sense of Indian cultures, but 
also influenced policies and practices aimed .it 
broadening human cultural rights in India. 



African Diaspora 

A similar impulse informed the founding of the 
African Diaspora program conceived in l l )~() and 
produced at the l l »~ t Festival. The African Dias- 
pora program, Inst proposed by Gerald Davis and 
developed in collaboration with the African Dias- 
pora Advisory Group, which included Bernice 
Reagon, A. IV Spellman, Kathryn Morgan and 
others, was a ground-breaking attempt to make a 
statement about the continuity of African cultural 
tonus m the manv places in which African 
pei iples live'. 

Ali u.m American culture forms are rooted in 
Mm a. often via the Caribbean and Latin America. 
Some forms, such as Sea Island basket making, 
folktales, hair braiding, And some musical and 
verbal styles have aesthetically and functionally 
survived intact; others were synthesized and trans- 
formed to deal with historical and daily exigen- 
cies The l l )~i Festival program made a tri-conti- 
nental statement, linking musicians, dancers, 
cooks, w oodcarv crs. hairdressers, basket weavers 
and others from Ghana and Nigeria. Trinidad and 
Tobago, and varied African American communities 
in the United Stales. 

African Diaspora programs in 1975 and 1976 
continued to look al commonalities i >t the African 
experience as found in a diversity of North Ameri- 
can. Caribbean, South American and African set- 
tings. Participants at the festival, millions oi visi- 
tors. Mm an Americans. European Americans, 
scholars and Smithsonian stall discovered the 
manv vvavs in which common aesthetics in 
foodways, personal adornment, music, dance, use 
of language And use ol space were expressed by 
peoples from Ghana, Liberia, Nigeria, Zaire, and 
Senegal; from Jamaica, Haiti, Trinidad X Tobago, 
Surinam and Brazil; and from the Mississippi 
Delta, from the Georgia Sea Islands, from urban 
New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Chicago and 
Washington, D.C African Diaspora programs 
marked a major development in the scholarly And 
public treatment of African-based cultures And 
helped set ihc Inundation tor programs in the 
National Museum ol American History. 

The n^cd and impetus for such programs con- 
tinues The 1990 festival featured a program on 
Senegal involving the participation of Senegalese 
and Senegalese Americans, Joined with the I S 
Virgin Islands al the festival, participants, scholars 
and officials "re-discovered" many of the cultural 
commonalities — in storytelling, mockojumbi, 
music, narrative-, foodways and adornment tradi- 
tions — vvlmh unite them. At the Festival, the 
Senegalese Minister ol Culture and the Governor 
ol the U S Virgin Islands announced plans for a 



16 




Yugoslavian participants iiml visitors join hands in dancing to tamburashi hand music at the 1973 Festival 
Old Ways in I he New World program. Photo Smithsonian Institution 



bilateral cultural exchange program. Staff folklor- 
ist Diana N'Diaye and others are currently work- 
ing on educational kits for the school systems in 
Senegal, the Virgin Islands and Washington, D.C. 
so that children will have access to their cultural 
heritage, spanning as it does, oceans, continents 
and centuries. We also continue to work with 
Senegal in developing a West Africa Research 
Center to promote continuing studies of the link- 
ages between African and African American 
populations. And as the Smithsonian develops its 
new African American Museum, and Senegal its 
Goree Island Memorial, we trust the Festival will 
have played a role in bridging cultural connec- 
tions. 

The U.S. Bicentennial 

In sheer size and public impact, the 1976 Festi- 
val for the U.S. Bicentennial was formidable. The 
Festival was held over a 12-week period and 
involved the participation < >f every region of the 
United States, 38 foreign governments, scores of 
American Indian tribes, and many labor organiza- 
tions and corporate sponsors. Despite what might 



be expected, the Festival avoided massive state 

spectacle and retained its intimate presentational 
modes — relatively small performance stages, 
narrative workshops, intimate crafts And 
foodways demonstration areas, children's partici- 
pation areas and the like. 

The Bicentennial Festival illustrated in the 
strongest terms the living nature of folk culture 
throughout the United States and the world. 
Rather than dying in the industrial revolution, or 
having been smothered by the influence of mass 
culture, community-based, grassroots cultural 
traditions were still practiced, still meaningful in 
the contemporary lives of Americans and other 
people of the world. This was easy for millions of 
visitors to see and experience on the National 
Mall. 

The Bicentennial Festival was an immense 
undertaking and illustrated the collaboration of 
the Smithsonian with literally thousands of na- 
tional and international scholars, community 
spokespeople and cultural exemplars invoked in 
the documentation, presentation, transmission 
and conservation of cultural traditions. The plan- 



17 




Ghanaian praise singer Salisu Mahama, playing ?Aegonje, aiul 
group illustrate the traditional musk played for the court of the 
Dagomha king at the /'» _ s Festival Photo Smithsonian Institution 



ning for the Bicentennial Festival had begun in 
] ( > _ i and provided an unprecedented mc. ins oi 
establishing cultural networks, training students, 
and providing opportunities for diverse peoples 
to interpret and present their traditions, 

The' Bicentennial also saw the flowering of a 
touring program, originally begun in l l ' _ s, in 
which groups at the Festival would tour the 
United Stales, bringing part ol I he Festival to 
cities, rural areas, midwestern towns, concert 
halls, local school classrooms, city parks and 
shopping malls. Through these touring programs, 
the Smithsonian put people across the breadth of 
America in touch with traditional domestic and 
foreign cultures While these (ours are no longer 
formally clone, they served as a model of taking 
grassroots performance to local people lor other 
organizations and lor the Smithsonian's own spe- 
cial programs, lor example, the Festival sent 
contingents ol American performing groups to 
the Soviet Union in 1988 and 1990. Groups in- 
cluded musicians for stage performances, street 
musicians, a \ew < )rleans hrass hand and a girls 
double-dutch jump rope team < )n tour in the 
Soviet Union, the Americans performed not only 
m concert halls, hut also in the lactones ol the 
Leninski shipyards, on a collective farm, in a 
Ukranian town square, on the streets of Kie\ and 
m apartment complexes. 

The Office ofFolklife Programs 

Preliminary plans to discontinue the Festival of 



American Folklife after the Bicentennial were 
swept aside by the enormous outpouring of pub- 
lic support for the Festival and its educational 
and cultural mission. After the Bicentennial, the 
Smithsonian formally established the Office of 
Folklife Programs, with Ralph Rinzler as its 
founding director. The Office, now with a perma- 
nent stall, was able to approach the larger task 
set out by the initial American Folklife Confer- 
ence ol extending beyond the Festival to more 
thorough, broad ranging and varied means of 
documenting, studying, presenting and dissemi- 
nating educational materials on folk cultural tradi- 
tii ins. 

The web of activity generated initially by the 
festival and then by the Office has grown large 
and complex. In addition to producing the an- 
nual Festival and mounting the archival and held 
research which makes it possible, the Office is 
engaged in numerous projects. The Smithsonian 
Folklife Studies series, formally begun in 1976 
publishes documentary studies on American and 
worldwide folk traditions in the form of scholarly 
monographs and ethnographic films. Monographs 
and films such as The Meaders Family: North 
Georgia /'otters. Tule Technology Northern Paiute 
l ses of Marsh Resources in Western Nevada, The 
Drummaker and The Korean Onggi Potter, 
among others, are technical, documentary studies 
used by scholars, community people and univer- 
sity educators. This series is supplemented by 
many other books, pamphlets and articles by 
< Iffice scholars, some related to Festival pro- 
grams, such as Family Folklore, others based on 
ongoing fieldwork and scholarship. 

Suite its inception the Festival has collabo- 
rated with Smithsonian museums m mounting 
exhibitions related to folk culture. Exhibits of folk 
an incorporating objects, photographs, song and 
spoken word recordings a\io] sales were held in 
the National Museum ol American History and 
then toured by the Smithsonian Traveling Exhibi- 
tion Service. An exhibit ol Copp family textiles in 
the Museum ol American History encouraged 
living practitioners, like Norman Kennedy, to 
work with the museum to help document and 
interpret its collection Consultations between 
practitioners and museum curators have since 
become a regular Festival feature, 

'fhe < Mhce of Folklife Programs has produced 
several traveling exhibits including Southeastern 
/'littery. The Grand Generation, which presents 
the folklife of the elderly, and recently Standby 
Me . \frican American Expressive Culture m 
Philadelphia. All grew out of Festival programs 
and research. In 1982-83 the Office collaborated 



IS 



with the Renwick Gallery to mount Celebration. 
an exhibition of objects related to human ritual 
behavior curatect by Victor Turner. During the 1 5 
month-long exhibition, artifacts in the Gallery 
were contextualized by living performances, 
demonstrations and rituals offered by numerous 
cultural communities. The exhibit resulted in a 
catalog and three books and established the 
groundwork for the inclusion of living people as 
integral participants in museum exhibitions. This 
practice was at the center of Aditi: A Celebration 
of Life, mounted in 1985 at the National Museum 
of Natural History for the Festival of India. This 
exhibition, one of the Smithsonian's most ambi- 
tious and successful, gained national and interna- 
tional attention, set high standards for museolo- 
gists in design, content and programming, and 
served to connect museum display with issues of 
cultural survival. 

The Office of Folklife Programs has produced 
numerous symposia, often in collaboration with 
other Smithsonian units and with national and 
international cultural and educational organiza- 
tions. Symposia have ranged from those on 
popular culture and traditional puppetry to those 
for the Columbus Quincentenary on Native 
American agriculture and the relationship of com- 
merce and industry to expressive culture. 

The Festival has always generated educational 
materials and media products. Many documentary 
films have been produced about the Festival and 
its particular programs over the years in different 
regions of the country and abroad. Radio Smith- 
sonian has featured series of programs generated 
from the Festival and other research projects; 
Smithsonian World has featured the Festival in its 
television segments. A record produced from 
music performed at the Festival was released in 
1970 and helped establish the Smithsonian Re- 
cordings Division. 

In 10S7 the Office of Folklife Programs ac- 
quired Folkways Records from the family of 
Moses Asch. Folkways — a long established com- 
pany with a SO year archive and catalog of 2,200 
titles spanning U.S. and world musics, verbal art, 
spoken word, and historical and scientific d( >cu- 
mentary recordings — took root at the Smith- 
sonian under the care of musical anthropologist 
Anthony Seeger. To help pay for the acquisition, 
popular musicians agreed to produce a benefit 
album and donate their royalties to the Smith- 
sonian. Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Emmylou 
Harris, U2, Little Richard, Pete Seeger, Ark > 
Guthrie, Willie Nelson, Taj Mahal and others 
performed their versions of Woody Guthrie and 
Leadbelly songs in the Folkways collection. The 



effort. Folkways: A Vision Shared, generated con- 
siderable sales and won a Grammy Award. It also 
led to a companion music-cultural history video 
on Guthrie and Leadbelly, a release of original 
recordings from the archives, and educational 
materials produced in concert with the Music 
Educators National Conference. Smithsonian 
Folkways is keeping every title in the original 
Folkwavs catalog in print and is stabilizing the 
archives. More than 70 titles have been remas- 
tered and rereleased on CD and cassette. New 
albums and series are being researched and pro- 
duced — Hawaiian Dram Dance Chants, The 
Doc Watson Family, Musics of the Soviet l nion, 
Lightnin' Hopkins, and many more — sometimes 
in concert with Festival projects and often in 
collaboration with local scholars and institutions. 
With the help of the Ford Foundation, Smith- 
sonian/Folkways has worked closely with the In- 
donesian ethnomusicological society to train 
fieldworkers and documentors and to produce a 
series of recordings surveying the musical culture 
of that diverse nation. A version of the series with 
Indonesian language notes will be produced so 
that adults, but especially children, there can 
have access to their own, sometimes fragile tradi- 
tions. Smithsonian Folkways may also be found 
in unlikely places — the Boston Children's Mu- 
seum plays its recordings in the bathrooms and 
computer-based educational programs use Folk- 
ways music to teach geography and cultural 
awareness. Folkways co-distributes a world music 
and dance encyclopedia and is about to embark 
on laser disc and high definition television proj- 
ects. Its archival holdings attract scholars in eth- 
nomusicology, folklore and cultural history and 
invite the attention of people from the communi- 
ties whose music, words and art it seeks to pre- 
serve. 

The range of scholarly, museum, educational 
and public service activities undertaken by the 
Office confirms the vision of the first Festival and 
Conference. But there is yet more to do. 

Cultural Conservation 

The Festival had long been conceived as pro- 
moting cultural pluralism, continuity and equity. 
The concern for preserving and encouraging 
cultural diversity and creativity framed Rinzler's 
work from the beginning. In 1973. Secretary 
Ripley made this explicit in his statement for the 
Festival program b< «>k: 

We are a conservation organization, and it 
seems to lis that conservation extends to 
human cultural practices. The possibility 



19 



of using a museum that is essentially a 
historical documentary museum as a thea- 
ter of live performance where people a< 
tually show that the objects in cases were 
made by human hands, and are still being 
made, practiced on, worked with, is a very 
valuable asset for our role as a preserver 
and conservator of living cultural forms, 
and should be understood in those terms. 

Programs in 1979 and ensuing years examined 
community efforts to preserve and extend their 
cultural traditions in such activities as vernacular 
architecture, food procurement and processing, 
and ritual life, Rinzler look this concern tor cul- 
tural conservation to larger arenas in the Smith- 
sonian when he became Assistant Secretary lor 
Public Service in 1WS2. 

In 1985 with Petei Seitel as Director of the 
Office of Folklife Programs and Diana Parker as 
Director of the Festival, a specific program called 
Cultural Conservation was developed for the 
Festival that examined how institutional practices 
and pressures threatened Mayan Indian, Puerto 
Rican, Ca|iin, Kmhmu and other communities and 
how local and sometimes national and interna- 
tional efforts worked to assist their cultural sur- 
vival Cultural conservation programs continued 
in following years to examine the role of local 
social institutions, the maintenance of language 
and the use of natural resources in preserving 
American cultural communities and allowing 
them to define their own futures 

The concern for the conservation of cultural 
diversity and creativity has been expressed in 
various publications and through various Festival 
projects, and it informs ongoing and developing 
collaborations with international organizations 
and federal, state and local agencies. 

Conclusion 

As the' Festival passes its 2Sth year it will con- 
tinue to experiment with presentational tec li- 
nn |ues and to explore categories f< >r understand- 
ing varieties of grassroots cultural expression 
Festival staff, and the scores of officials, academic 
colleagues, public folklorists and community 
people who vearK write and talk about the Festi- 
val continue to use- it as a vehicle lor thinking 
through issues of cultural representation and 
ci inservation. 

An unfinished agenda from 1967 still resonates 
da} ll would be a mistake to think that the 
promulgation of global mass culture will inevita- 
bly wipe out all forms of tradition-generated, 



community-held, creatively performed grassroots 
culture. Not all culture is or will be produced in 
Hollywood. Paris, Nashville or on Madison Ave- 
nue, focal folks, people in families, communities, 
tribes, regions and occupations continue to make 
culture. More research must be clone on the con- 
texts within which local forms of grassroots cul- 
ture do survive and indeed, may flourish. If we 
think cultural diversity is worth conserving, then 
the time is ripe to examine how economic devel- 
opment strategies can encourage the continuity 
ol local culture, how local cultural practices and 
knowledge can support environmental preserva- 
tion, how local communities can participate- in 
the shaping of the images used, too often by 
others, to represent them, and how the wisdom, 
knowledge and aesthetics of diverse cultures can 
directly, and through innovative media, be 
brought into classrooms and other forums of 
public education. 

The Festival and the Office of folklife Pro- 
grams will continue its work It will continue to 
tap into the great streams of tradition and creativ- 
ity which, though threatened, still abound in the 
United States and throughout the world. It will 
continue to heed, honor and celebrate remark- 
able people who. in exemplary ways, carry with 
them lessons learned by word ol mouth over 
generations, so that the next generation of young 
artists can return to root forms when shaping 
new creations. And the Festival will continue to 
encourage practitioners to practice, scholars to 
research, and the public to learn 

To museums, educational systems, community 
groups, governments and the general public that 
seek forms for presenting information about cul- 
tural knowledge, practice, wisdom and aesthetics, 
the Festival offers an important resource. And as 
American souci\. And indeed societies around 
the- world, daily confront cultural issues in 
si I Is, homes, market places and political are- 
nas, the Festival provides .1 model, howevei 
emergent, of how diverse forms of cultural ex- 
pression can be accommodated, communicated 
and appreciated within a broad framework that 
recognizes human cultural rights. 



Kit bard Kttrhi is Director of the Smithsonian Institution 
t ffice of Folklife Programs and a Professorial Lecturer 
ill the fohns Hopkins St boot of ideant ed International 
Studies tic is a 1 itltnral anthropologist with a /'It I > 
In mi 1 he I nit'ersity of 1 huti^n who has done most of bis 
resean h work in India and Pakistan lie first worked 
mi the Festival of. \merican Folklife m 1976 



20 



ROOTS OF RHYTHM AND BLUES: THE ROBERT JOHNSON ERA 



Blues at the Festival: 

A Community Music with 

Global Impact 

Worth Long and Ralph Rinzler 



At the very first Smithsonian 
Folklife Festival back in 1967, you 
would have heard performers simi- 
lar to the artists in this program. 
Grassroots singers and instrumen- 
talists from the Georgia and South 
Carolina Sea Islands, New Orleans 
French Quarter, New York City, 
and the Mississippi Delta offered 
the oldest songs they knew, then 
described in music and words their 
creative innovations. They ex- 
plained how their music coordi- 
nated work, praised and lifted the 
spirit, danced out joy or sorrow, 
and helped them struggle for 
change. In every succeeding Festi- 
val, the oldest, root traditions have 
been here alongside emergent 
forms created by artists fired and 
inspired by their heritage. 

Museums exist to study and ex- 
hibit history, science, and art — sometimes great, 
ofttimes ordinary — through the perspective of 
time. The Smithsonian has long collected visual 
and plastic art treasures and artifacts of history, 
but prior to the 1967 Festival, it had not system- 
atically curated and presented living forms of 
grassroots music and craft. Once included, living 
folklife traditions were acknowledged as though 
they had been there from the outset and should 
always remain. 

"The Roots of Rhythm and Blues: The Robert 
Johnson Era" embodies a tried and true Festival 
approach: start with the roots and present the full 
flower of the traditions, old and young; highlight 
links in the creative chain of a people's art. 
Robert Johnson was a potent and significant link 

Km .is dt Rhythm and Blues: The Robert Johnson Era 
has been made possible by the Smithsonian Institution 
and a grant from its Special Exhibition Fund, and by a 
grant from the Music Performance Trust Funds 




Fiddler Mr Kenneth- and his grandchildren, 'flickers Grove, 

North Carolina, 1979. Photo hy Roland L Faniun. «' I'l'H 

in tradition ... a Picasso, a Rodin of the blues. He 
passionately absorbed and then reforged the mu- 
sic of his community and era. His art decisively in- 
fluenced the music of today's world. This program 
is meant to explore that story of creative change 
and cultural continuity. 

Blues historian and folklorist U brth Long has spent over 
J" years doing research on H/ih k culture in the Smith 
lie Inis been a Smithsonian Institution researcher spe- 
cializing in blues, spiritual, and gospel music since the 
etui)' 1970s His publications include a film, made with 
Alan Lomax. titled The hind Where the Blues Began. " 

Ralph Rinzler was the founding Director of the Festival 
of American Folklife tint/ of the Office of Folklife 
Programsfrom 1967 to 1982. He was the Assistant 
Secretary for Public Service [nun 1983 to l<><>(> Through 
his museum projects, books, articles, films and audio 
recordings, he hti^ supported cultural diversity tin,/ 
institutional recognition of the aesthetic and ethical 
riilues expressed in folk and working class cultures 



R( >( ITS OF RHYTHM AND BLUES 



Jl 



Robert Johnson 

in the '90s: 

A Dream Journey 

Peter Guralnick 



Who would ever have thought that ^2 years 
after his death Robert Johnson would go gold? 

A Friend of mine wrote recently and asked: 
Can you imagine him walking down a crowded 
city street, seeing his name and face displayed in 
a store window? Well. 1 can and I can't. It's a 
metaphor I've imagined many times in the past: 
Blind Willie McTell wandering into the TK studio 
in Miami in the late 1970s (don't ask me why TK; 
remember, this is just a dream); Robert Johnson 
hearing his songs on the radio on a hot summer's 
night. I think the movie "Crossroads" forever 
drove this fantasy out oi my mind: my dream was 
rich in possibilities jn<J associations, I fell. It was 
pure Perhaps it was the mundaneness ol the 
movie's conceit; more likely, it was just the reality 
ol finding a secret treasure dug up and exposed 
to the light. The music was just as magical, but 
somehow the fantasy had grown old 

I don't think I'd even heard of Robert 
Johnson when 1 found the record, it was 
probably just fresh out I was 1^ or L6, 
and it was a real shock that there was 
something that powerful. It seemed as il 
he wasn't playing for an audience. It didn't 
obey the rules of time or harmony or any- 
thing. It all led me to believe that here 
was a guy who really didn't want to play 
lor people at all, that Ins thing was so un- 
bearable to have to live with that he was 
almost ashamed of it. This was an image 
that I was very, very keen to hang on to. 

— Eric Clapton 

We all were. It was the sustaining image ol a 
generation, the central thesis < >l the liner notes to 
the first album, even the cover illustration for the 
second the romantic loner with his face turned 
to the wall And yet the real Robert Johnson 
played tor people; he traveled the land; he 
played the juke joints, he was a fixture in court- 
house squares, he even played on the radio He 



was a professional bluesman. And that was how 
he died. 

What are we to make of all this implausible 
latter-day success, the commercialization, and 
canonization, of something that would have 
seemed, to Eric Clapton and Keith Richards, or to 
me. when we were all 15 or Id years old, imper- 
vious to exploitation? There are movies in the 
making; there are bitter disputes over ownership 
of something that was once declared by Colum- 
bia to be m the public domain.'' What is now 
being talked about is something both more — 
and less — than a priceless cultural legacy. We 
are talking about Robert Johnson as cultural com- 
modity: we are talking about the inevitable price 
( )l success 

I don't know what to think about it all. quite 
honestly, It would be easv to say that America 
likes its heroes dead — but that would probably 
be true of most cultures. While' an artist is still 
creating, he is always dangerous, there is no 
telling what he might do next. Robert Johnson? 
He recorded 2 1 -) songs — there are rumors of 
another one or two. There are 12 alternate takes 
llis work makes up a convenient canon — it can 
be studied and quantified. 

And what of the audience that hears his music 
now lor the hist time? How can they we relate? 
The world that he lived in, the language that he- 
employs ("She's got Elgin movements from her 
head down to her toes': Elgin has to be ex- 
plained, place names have to be' explained, sex- 
ual metaphors have to be explained and excused 
— different time, different place). But somehow 
something essential comes through What is it? 1 
don't know What is it that captured me. that 
captured Eric Clapton, that captured a generation 
that listened with its ear glued to a tinny speaker, 
that studied even crackle on that first Lb when it 
came out in 1961? King of the Delta Blues Sing- 
ers. Even the title is indicative of the misunder- 
standing. Howlin' Wolf might introduce himself. 



i > 



_ Rl lOTSOl Kin IIIVI AM) 151.1 IS 




Studio portrait of Robert Johnson, circa 1935 
Photo courtesy of Stephen ( LaVere, © 1989 Stephen C LaVere 



mythopoetically, as "The Wolf," but Robert 
Johnson? Can you imagine him referring to him- 
self as n pyalty? 

One time in St. Louis we were playing one 
of the songs that Robert would like to play 
with someone once in a great while. 
"Come On In My Kitchen." He was play- 
ing very slow and passionately, and when 
we had quit. I noticed no one was saying 
anything. Then I realized they were crying 
— both women and men. 

— -Johnny Shines 

That is what Robert Johnson is about. It's what 
we have to keep on reminding ourselves, not just 
about Robert Johnson but about art itself or any- 
thing that we value in our lives. It's not about tag 



lines, it's not about commercial slogans, it's not 
about comparing one experience or achievement 
to another, it's not about ownership and it's not 
about sales. It's about a spirit, it's about some- 
thing that lingers in the air, it's about something 
that can persist s2 years alter a man's death, that 
will keep knocking slyly, over and over again, 
ignoring the rebuffs of history, ignoring the deaf- 
ening silence of time, until at last it is let on in. 

Copyright ©1991 In Peter Guralnick 



Petei Guralnick is the author oj 'Searching l<>r Robert 
Johnson c/v iccll </v a trilogy mi American roots mush . 
Feel Like Going Hume. Lost Highway and Sweet Soul 
Music He is currently at work mi a biography of Elvis 
Presley 



ROOTS I IF RHYTHM AND BLUES 2.S 



Robert Johnson, 
Blues Musician 

Robert Jr. Lockwood 

Compiled from an interview with Worth Long 




Robert fr Lockwood 

When I turned 13, Robert Johnson follow eel 
my mother home in Helena, Arkansas, and she 
couldn't get rid of him. Robert looked awful 
young to me, and he looked young to my 
mother. But he was making believe that he was 
older than my mother He was full of Indian, and 
he didn't have a beard or mustache. When he 
died, when he got killed, he didn't have a beard 
either. 

When I met Robert, he was playing just like 
these records are today He played by himself 
but sounded like somebody sitting at the piano. I 
never had heard the guitar played like that. I 
always felt like I wanted to pla\ the piano until 
Robert Johnson turned me onto his guitar style. 



W hen I was young, I couldn't play reels and 
popular tunes at home cause I was living with 
my grandfather. We played them on the organ 
when my folks would leave. But when they'd 
come back, we'd play church music. 

There was no name for the fust songs 1 started 
playing. I had two cousins who could play two 
or three little tunes on the piano, and I just 
watched them and learned how to play it. Maybe 
I was born to play. 

Because Robert was li\mg with my mother, he 
told me 1 could go watch him play. I didn't have 
a guitar. Everytime he set the guitar down, Id 
pick it up He'd set the guitar down. And he'd be 
with momma, and I'd pick it up. He finally asked 
me. "Do you really want to play?" ami he decided 
to teach me. 

He'd play a tune and then show me how he 
did it. and I would do it. He didn't have to do it 
but once for me. I had a sense of time, and I 
knew three musical changes, so when 1 started 
playing the guitar, it wasn't a problem. 1 couldn't 
get the real feel of it like he was doing but I 
could still do the notes. Within three months 
time, I was playing. I was only I t. 

After I learned to play, I went to Clarksdale 
with Robert. You got the Sunflower River ferry 
there. So Robert put me on one side of the 
bridge, and he went on the other side. He was 
real smart. He said. "Robert Jr., we do it like this, 
well make more money." He said, Now you sit 
here and play, and I'm going on the other side 
and play." I didn't realize what he was really 
doing but the people were transferring across the 
bridge both ways, confused about who Robert 
Johnson was. I said, 111 be doggoned." We set 
on each end of the bridge and played about 35 
minutes and made almost S2() apiece when they 
passed the hat around. 

Soon 1 was playing all over Mississippi and 
Arkansas and Tennessee. I started playing with 
Sonny Boy Williamson and also went with Robert 



24 l(( )i 



ITS! 'I KIIYI ll\l \\l) HI I 1 s 



Richard "Hacksaw" Harney in 

performance at the National 
Folk Festival. 1971 Photo 
courtesy Stephen C. LaVere, © 1971 
Stephen C. LaVere 



to a lot of little places. Most 
of the places where we 
played, where I played in 
Mississippi, me and Sonny 
Boy Williamson was on 
street corners . . . we made a 
lot of money. Be a lot of 
people downtown, and we'd 
go down and get permission 
from the police to play, and 
we were making $75 and 
$80 dollars apiece. That was 
a lot of money then . . . it's a 
lot of money now. 

They had house parties 
and things going at that 
time, "Saturday night sup- 
pers" they called them. The 
guys would be shooting dice and dancing and 
drinking and playing on the street corners. I done 
a lot of that. 

Guitar players at that time couldn't hardly get 
a job in a band because you couldn't hear it. I 
always did like big bands. I liked a whole lot of 
pretty changes and I couldn't get all of that out of 
three changes. The very first hand I had was with 
the Starkey Brothers when 1 left King Biscuit 
Time and went on Mothers Best Flour Time. I 
had a jazz band made up of James, Will and Ca- 
mellia Starkey. One was playing piano, the others 
were playing horns, and we had drums and bass 
. . . about six pieces. That was in 1942. 

In 1939, the Melrose pick-up came out and 1 
think me and Charlie Christian were the first 
people to have one. You could just push it across 
the hole in the guitar and plug it up. Amplifiers 
then, you would call them practice amplifiers 
now. They was just loud enough to bring the 
guitar up to the piano. 

Robert Johnson could play the harmonica and 
the piano, but he didn't really care too much 
about neither of those. Robert played the guitar 
by himself and sounded like two guitars. He was 
playing the bass and lead at the same time. He 
was playing background for himself on the bass 
strings and playing melody on the lead. 

Hacksaw Harney could do that. He was a 
monster player. He was also a piano maker. I ran 
into Hacksaw back when I was coming under 
Robert Johnson. He could play the piano well. 




He couldn't talk plain, he stuttered. And I used to 
catch him watching me and I would ask him, 
"Why you watching me?" 

He could play the guitar, and with the same 
hand he was picking with, he'd be playing drum 
parts against the guitar. Me and Robert was real 
close to him. Hacksaw was playing old standards, 
and Robert was playing the blues and old stan- 
dards like "Chinatown" . . . but more blues. 
Robert was playing ragtime, show tunes like 
"Sweet Sue" and all them old tunes. Hacksaw had 
a lot to do with Robert's playing because they 
played somewhat similar. [Robert] was living in 
Clarksdale for a while and there wasn't no de- 
mand for what he was doing because the city 
was too small. He was playing ballads — you 
could call it jazz. 

Blind Blake was playing ragtime and jazz like 
Hacksaw did. But. at that time, the white folks 
called the blues "devil's music' so everybody 
played a little jazz or something like that and 
tried to Stay away from the blues. Robert Johnson 
didn't care nothing about the blues being bad. 
lie played the blues even when it was aban- 
doned by the white society. 

I first met Willie Dixon in Helena, Arkansas, 
and then in Clarksdale, Mississippi. Later, when I 
moved to Chicago, me and Dixon played tot- 
Chess 17 years. We did nothing but session work, 
backing up everybody. Roosevelt Sykes, Willie 
Mayburn, Little Walter. I played with almost 
everybody who was doing blues. I played with 

ROOTS OF RHYTHM UMD BLUES 25 



Muddy. I recorded in 1940 before he recorded. 
Muddy Waters didn't record until 1945 or some- 
thing like that. 

When I first went to Chicago. I recorded by 
myself. "Little Boy Blue" was my first recording 
and "Take a Little Walk With Me." One on each 
side. My first recording session was "Mean Black 
Spider Blues." Little Boy Blue." "Take a Little 
Walk with Me," and "Train My Baby." I wrote all 
the songs. I been writing my own songs ever 
since I learned how to play. That was my first 
tour tunes recorded on RCA Victor, which was 
the Bluebird label. They sold but 1 don't know 
how well they sold because I didn't get nothing 
from them. I got the first money that the man 
paid me, and i ain't got no royalties. Twelve fifty 
a song. Everybody got caught in that. 

Wasn't no segregation about that. Twelve fifty 
a side and 13% of one cent lor royalty. I didn't 
even get that. [Once] I made Bluebird pay me 
$500 for the recording session. I went to Chicago 
with Dr. Clayton, who was pretty smart. And with 
all these record companies bucking against each 
other, me anci Clayton got paid $500. I ain't ever 
got no royalties from nobody, and 1 ain't ever got 
no publishing money from nobody, and I have 
often wondered how in the hell do they expect 
you to keep working lor them when they don't 
give you your money'-' It's very wierd. 

Finally, I had to draw a line and said. II I'm 
going to make a living, I'm going to have to do 
something better than this." I have my own label 
now. Lockwood Records. 1 think by me having 
that and by me and my wile working so hard, 
we're getting the company known all over the 
world, so I think things are going to tee off in a 
little bit 

fm so glad I am able to do this I don't have 
to listen to no one tell me, "Well, I don't like- the 
songs." Ho you know how disappointing that is? 
That's really bad when they say, Well. I don't 
like so and so." Then you got to try to do some- 
thing they like in order to sell it Now, I just go 
ahead and record what I want to record, and I 
put it out. And if they don't like it, it don't make 
no difference. And if they do like it, line. 

The audiences don't know what they like no 
way until good creators do them. And after we 
ci<> them, then they say they like it. But if they 
don't want to accept nothing they ain't never 
heard, how do unexplored people ever get rec- 
ognized'-' How they going to keep creating-' There 
ain't no point in creating nothing 

Fifty-two years alter he died. Robert Johnson is 
getting on the charts Here I am living and play- 
ing just like him and ain't getting no breaks. 1 



know there's some prejudice in this. There has 
to be 

Robert Johnson was at least sS or 60 years 
ahead of his time. There wasn't nothing like 
him What was there to hold him? I've seen him 
sit on street coiners and make SUM) in a hour 
,\nd a half in nickels and dimes and quarters 
Except tor Hacksaw, there is nobody else I 
know ol that could do any of the things thai 
Robert did. 1 hate to see them good ones go like 
that. 

That man was something. He could play and 
sing. He didn't need no help. That was the real 
strong thing about his career. II I just want to 
play the blues, I don't need no help. 

John Hammond is making his living off of 
Robert. He works hard and 1 like him. But there 
ain't noboclv that I've taught that sounds like- 
Robert. I was teaching Johnny Shines when he- 
had that stroke. II he hadn't had that stroke, 
he'd be doing pretty good now 

You know, ['m responsible for B.B.'s career 1 
taught Luke Stuckey, Willie Johnson and I kinda 
helped Ml' Murphy, and taught Lonnie Fitch- 
ford, who plays in my style. If the record com- 
panies were smart, they would have me playing 
Robert Johnson tunes right now But 1 know 
what the problem is. I'm free, black and 76 
years old. and they think I might fall dead to- 
morrow, But 1 got news for them. I ain't going 
n< 'vv here. 

There are some people who want to trv to 
get some glory because Robert is so popular. 
They say they knew Robert, and they don't 
know a damn thing. They talked about him 
selling his soul to the devil I want to know how 
you do that' If anybody sold then souls to the 
devil, it's the groups that have to have a million 
dollars worth ol dope and have to make a mil- 
lion dollars in money to play. I don't like the 
way they are Irving to label him He was a blues 
musician, just like the rest of them. 



Robert jr l.ockwood. the adopted son of Robert 
Johnson, was bom in Marvel. Arkansas in /9/5 

< 'hanging instruments from piano toguitar. be first 
became a prominent blnesman in Memphis, in the 

t ompttny of Sonny Hoy U 'illiamson and /->' /)' and 
Albert King, among others After a stint in St Louis, 
where lie worked with the influential rocalist I >> 

< lii yion. I ik kwood became a studio guitarist i>i 

• hicago in the 1940s Here he worked with many 
•.•real blues artists In I960 he moved to Cleveland and 
has remained — with frec/uent /ourneys t< • festivals 
and other performance stages — ever since 



2(l R( )i >TS< IF RHYTHM V\l) I 



Wisdom of the Blues 

Willie Dixon 

Compiled from an interview with Worth Long 



Willie Dixon, born in Mississippi the same year 
as Robert Jr. Lockwoi >d is a poet-philosopher and 
blues activist. He did not know Robert Johnson, but 
like Johnson, Dixon created a conceptually rich 
repertoire of blues songs thai candid/)' offer bis deep 
thoughts and feelings about critical social and 
cultural issues. 

In this interview, Willie Dixon shares some of his 
insight on African American secular and sacred 
musics He also provides an autobiographical 
frameteork that deepens our comprehension of the 
genius and complexities of African American mu- 
sic His observations on issues of segregation, the 
industrialization of community musical forms and 
the impact of corporate manipulation of Black 
people's culture are trenchant and insightful 

Worth Long 
Ralph Rinzler 

My name is Willie DLxon and I was born in 
Vicksburg, Mississippi, July 1, 1915. My whole 
family was from that area. 1 went to school there 
for a while. I lived around there as long as I possi- 
bly could under starving conditions, until I had to 
get the hell out, so somebody else could eat. 

Ain't but one part of Vicksburg, and that's 
Vicksburg. I lived on the outskirts of town. 1 was 
about one, two blocks from the bus. At that time, 
we had a street car. You got on the trolley car and 
went straight to the back. That's where you'd sit 
until you got off. And if a white person came over 
and needed your seat, you had to get up and let 
him in there — that's all. 

They had just about the same conditions all 
over, you know. But the thing was, that some 
were well enough brainwashed, so that they 
thought this was the best. And others knew it 
wasn't the best. Now, there were others that knew 
it wasn't the best and were afraid to say different, 
afraid to act different. Anytime you're born and 
raised in Mississippi ... in those days, it was the 
experience that happened to anybody that moved. 




tl illie Dixon ut the 1989 Handy Awards, Memphis, 
Tennessee Photo by Lauri Lawson, © 1989 Lauri Lawson 



My father used to say, "If you don't learn noth- 
ing, you have nothing, you know nothing, and 
you do nothing"; but Little Brother Montgomery 
used to say that everybody was born naked. 
When I first met him as a youngster, 1 used to 
ask him, "Why do you s.i\ that everybody was 
born naked all the time'-''' When I was older, and 
he and I were getting around together, he said 
that meant we all started the same way — you 
can gain if you want to, or lose if you please, but 
ain't nobody came in here with nothing, and ain't 
nobody going to take nothing away. So get what 



R( >( US i )l KIIVIIIM \M) BLUES 



>7 



you can while you're here. And be the best you 
ean. And try to make arrangements for somebody 
else while you're here. 

I knew Little Brother Montgomery since I was 
quite young. I used to play hooky from school 
just to hear those guys playing on the street cor- 
ner. He was little, and I thought then — because 
he was a little short guy — that lie was a boy 
But he was grown. At that particular time, he 
played all the different styles, all the styles other 
people never heard of. He did a song called the 
"Vicksburg Blues," which was real popular in 
Vicksburg, and then Roosevelt Sykes changed it 
into the "Forty-Four Blues." It was the same 
music. Little Brother had to sit down at different 
times and show me how they first started to play 
it, and then how they added a little bit here and 
there, and how different people who had died 
long before they got a chance to record, how 
they played. He knew all of them. 

They all start from the original stuff because 
the blues — the rearrangement of the blues — 
created all these other styles, and it's really very 
easy to see. It's like "Dudlow" out of Dudlow, 
Mississippi. He was one of the guys that inspired 
that left hand to the original 12-bar blues. When I 
was a kid they used to call it "Dudlow" -- all the 
real old-timers, they called it that name. But alter 
the people decided they were going to commer- 
cialize it, record it, they started to call it "boogie- 
woogie." And by calling it boogie-woogie, then 
everybody could get into the act, and everybody 
did get in the act. Everybody come up with a 
boogie of his own But it was all 12-bar blues 

You learn a lot ot things when you are young, 
and a lot of things you can tell people about 
And then, some things you can't tell people. Es- 
pecially in the South, where people didn't know 
too much at that time and weren't allowed to 
learn very much. They thought every time you 
brought up a conversation about something, it 
was something to argue about But afterwards, 
you learned they were playing the same identical 
music, the same identical tunes 

One was called a spiritual, and the other was 
called the blues. And the only difference was: 
■ me ot them was dedicated to the earth and the 
tacts ol life, which was the blues; and the spiri- 
tual things were dedicated to heaven and after 
death, you know. So that was the difference be- 
tween the spirituals and the blues. And the expe- 
rience you receive on earth was the only thing 
you had to go on because nobody had the expe- 
rience of heaven. And I don't think they have 
had it yet. 

You see, I had a chance for two sides of 



things because my mother was definitely a Chris- 
tian all of the way around, and my father was 
sometimes a Christian and sometimes anything he 
wanted to be. But he thought of the difference. 
Christianity and his thing were two different 
things, fie thought the Christian thing was just 
psychologizing people so they could be under 
control. And after I got older, I could make my 
own decision cither way I'd feel. 

My lather always said, "You got to live before 
you die. And don't get ready to die before you get 
reach to live." So that was kind of my philosophy, 
that I have to live before 1 died. I figured getting 
ready to live was better than getting ready to die. 
When I'd get old enough, then I'd start getting 
ready to die. This organization 1 have, the Blues 
Heaven Foundation 1 helps you get a little heaven 
before you die. Then, il you happen to miss, you 
have a little taste of it anyway, 

'I'he reason I have the Blues Heaven foundation 
is so the blues will be properly advertised, publi- 
cized, emphasized, talked about and understood 
( )nce you understand the blues, it will give every- 
body a better lite because you'll have a better life 
wiih each other. That's what Blues Heaven is all 
abi mt. 

I always had great expectations in the singing 
held I sung my fust song — I must have been 
about tour or five years old — in the Spring Hill 
Baptist Church in Vicksburg. My mother always 
used to tell us to learn how to smg in harmony. 
And there was a fellow down there in Vicksburg 
called Phelps — he was a jubilee singer He taught 
harmony singing. Well, I was with him at that par- 
ti( ular time he started singing I'he group was 
called the Union Jubilee Singers in Vicksburg. 

Then alter that. I was singing spirituals. Once m 
a while the kids would move on to other things, 
b\ singing other songs that weren't spirituals And 
at that particular time, when you didn't sing spiri- 
tuals, they called the other songs "reels And the 
reels weren't considered as good music lor all the 
spiritual-minded people then. 

We used to broadcast at WQBC radio station, 
clown there in Vicksburg, once a week, mostly on 
Friday. We rehearsed just about even clav or so. 
Let me see now, that goes back to 1934. . . '35. 

When Then Phelps was teaching us harmony, I 
began to learn quite a bit about it, and I loved it. 1 



'The nines Heaven Foundation, a not-for-profit organiza- 
tion, was founded bv Willie- I >iv m fi ir the purpi ise of garner- 
ing proper recognition and broader acknowledgement of the 
blues ll provides an annual scholarship. The Muddy Waters 
s. holarship, and, with matching grants, has donated a selec- 
tion "l band instruments to high st limits around the country. 



28 K< IOTSI H RHYTHM wn BLUES 



still love it. I found out things done in harmony 
are always better than things done without har- 
mony, don't care what it is. 

You know all kids always play all kinds of 
instruments, but one that I actually tried to play 
on was a bass. Then I did play the guitar for a 
little while, mostly in Europe, when Memphis 
Slim and I went over there. 

I didn't get interested in the bass until I came 
to Chicago. After I came to Chicago, I won the 
Golden Gloves as a novice fighter . . . that's in 
1937. At the same time I was in the gymnasium, 
guys would be singing and playing around there. 
And I'd get in there harmonizing a little bit be- 
cause I knew most of the bass lines for all the 
things. In those days the Ink Spots were just start- 
ing, and the Mills Brothers. And everybody was 
imitating the Mills Brothers because they imitated 
instruments. I used to imitate the bass instalment 
all the time because I knew most of the bass 
lines. 

Things got rough for me in the fight game. I 
decided to hang around with Baby Doo Castin, a 
piano player, and he insisted on making me a 
homemade bass out of a big oil can. And that's 
the way I started playing the bass. We put a stick 
on the oil can. That oil can had an open bottom 
to it, and we put this stick on the back of it and 
made it like an African instrument. Then he made 
another thing like a fingerboard and put this one 
bass string on it, attached to the center of the oil 
can and on top of the stick. And the stick had a 
little adjusting thing that he could wind up and 
down to play into whatever key we were playing 
in. Well, I just called it a tin can bass. I didn't 
make any other instruments, but Baby Doo did. 
1 [e came from Natchez, and he made his own 
guitar. He always told me about it, and then he- 
made one when he was in Chicago. He made it 
out of something like a cigar box. But he would 
make the box, you know, so that it was strong 
enough to hold the strings. He died last year in 
Minneapolis. 

I got together with two or three groups before 
we got together with Baby Doo. One of them 
was with a guy called Bernard Dennis He used 
to play with me and Little Brother and Brother 
Radcliff, and we'd name a different group a dif- 
ferent thing every two or three weeks. But we 
never got a chance to record with him. And first 
thing I ever actually recorded was this thing 
called the "Bumping Boys." That was with me 
and my brother and my nephew and another 
fellow and Baby Doo. We always got together 
and did some things on Decca for J. Mayo Wil- 
liams. After that we had the Five Breezes, and 



after that we had a group called the Four Jumps 
of Jive. Most of the time we consisted of some of 
the same guys, and then we cut it on down to 
the Big Three Trio. We began making a little 
noise for Columbia, doing background for people 
like Big Bill and also Rosetta Howard . . . folks 
like that. 

My mother used to write all types of poems 
and things, and I'd always tell her that I was 
going to sing them when I got older. She made a 
lot of little old poem books when I was a kid. 
They were consisting of nothing but spiritual 
ideas and things out of the Bible. Some of them I 
remember. Then I had a whole book of poems 
that I wrote as a kid. 

I never was good at art. but I always did like 
poems. Poems of everything, of anything. There's 
room enough in the world for everything, and 
there's more ideas in the world than your head 
can hold. Get these ideas together and make 
them into verses so people are interested. My 
mother always tried to put the verses in a poetic 
form. 

Many people have something that they would 
like to say to the world and would like the world 
to know about. But most people never get a 
chance to say these things. And then, you're 
going to try to make them see something in a 
song that an individual can't see for themselves. 
Like the average man has his own feeling about 
women or love or whatever — what's in his heart 
or what's in his mind. All of a sudden, here 
comes somebody that's singing it out right. You 
know good and well what he's talking about, and 
he knows what you're talking about. Then that 
gives you an inspiration because here's a guy 
who's saying just what you wanted to say. That's 
what makes hit songs. Things that are common 
to any individual — and it's not a complicated 
thing. It makes it easier for life, easy to express, 
easy to say. Blues songs are facts of life, whether 
it's our life or somebody else's. 

The songs that I like the best are generally the 
ones that I am writing on as of now. I try to keep 
my songs up to the condition where they can be 
educational and provide understanding to the 
audience that's listening. I feel like the audience 
today doesn't know the value of peace. I made 
two different songs on peace. "You Can't Make 
Peace" speaks for itself: 

You take one man's heart 

And make another man live. 
You go to the moon 

And come back thrilled. 
You can crush any country 
In a matter of weeks, 



l<( )< lis ( X RIIV11IM AND BUTS 



29 



Hut it don't make sense 

When you can't make peace. 

Most of the songs 1 write offer wisdom, and 
this is why I say most of them are considered as 
wisdom of the blues. I made this song up about 
"Evil, Ignorance and Stupidity. When I say "evil, 
ignorance and stupidity,'' 1 mean that everything 
that's been clone wrong on the lace of the earth 
happens because of: 

Evil, ignorance and stupidity 

The three worst things in the world 
It ain't no good for no man or woman, 
Neither no boy or girl. 

'Cause it you're evil, you're ignorant. 
And il you're stupid, you're wrong 
And theres no way in the world 
Y< iu i. an e\ er get along 

II you're evil, ignorant and stupid, 
You create prejudice and hate 
II it di m t be t< >m< >rrow, 
It will be sc >< iner i >r late 

I try to say it in the tacts of life — one way or 
the other, whether it's the fact of my lite or some- 
body else's. That's why I make these- particular 
types ot songs. The blues are the- true lads (it life 
expressed in words and songs and inspirations 
with feeling and understanding, The people. 
regardless < il what condition an individual is in, 
they want to lie in better shape. The) believe in 
letting somebody know what condition they're 
m. m order to help themselves Whethei it s 
good, whether it's bad. Right or wrong 

The world has woken up to the' facts "I hie-, 
and blues are about the facts < it life, have been 
since the beginning. The blues have been around 
a long time. Even before Robert Johnson there 
were many people singing the blues. At that 
time, people hadn't been taught that the blues 
was wrong. When I was a youngster, a lot i it 
people 1 used to talk about Robert Johnson. I 
never eliel actually meet him, but I saw him and I 
i. in into Robert Jr.. who he' partly raised, and also 
Johnny, Shines. Johnson looked very much like- 
the original picture that he had there. I was .1 
youngster singing spirituals, I always elid like any 
kind ol music. I was in Mississippi in one of 
those little Delta towns, and I saw Robert Jr and 
was excited to see him. 

In that day, there weren t very many record- 
ings out there, and anybody that could get a 
recording made' was somebody that you had to 
lie'.n And there' were very few Black ones out 
there at all. Records were played in places down- 
town, and people would be playing them out in 



stores. And everybody would stop and listen. I 
remember we finally got an old record player 
You'd foul around and wind it up ton tight — the 
spring jumped loose, and nobody knew how to 
fix it. 

I <ilks played everything; they elieln't have ra- 
dio. I remember my brother, he was working 
where they made the little crystal radio, and he 
brought one home-. We had earphones, and you 
could hardly hear anything, only about two or 
three stations on the line Hut at the same lime 
they played most of what they wanted to. Most 
was country-western. They had so many different 
kinds of songs . . . and dances, too. Nobody in 
ihe' world could keep up with all the different 
dances: the two-step, the black bottom, the snake 
hip. Everybody that could do anything, they done 
it and named it that dance, 

When 1 write a song. I hope that people like it 
we'll enough to elanee to it Because most of the 
time il people- elanee to something — ten to one' 
— they learn something about the words ol u 
that gives them a certain education they wouldn't 
learn otherwise'. They learn beeause they like' it. 
Hut they don't have to be listening directly to the- 
words, As you know, rhythm is the thing. Every- 
thing moves to rhythm, Everything that's under 
the sun. that crawls, flies or swims, likes music. 

Hut blues is the' greatest, beeause blues is the 
only one that, along with the rhythm and the 
musie'. brings wisdom. When youngsters ge't a 
chance to hear the- wisdom along with the music 
— it give's them a chance to get a better educa- 
tion and have a better understanding. 

Most people' never have' looked at it like that. 
This is whv I s.iv ihe' youngsters toelay are 
brighter and wiser than they were yesterday. 
Because old folks told you something, you be- 
lieved it like- that — you couldn't believe the old 
folks lie'el Hut We' touilel out the olel folks lieel so 

long [that now | you can't get the young folks to 
trust anybi >ely 

1 made a poem that was made out ol cliches 
ol the world. Cliches are- always made to the- laets 
of life They sav them all over the world m differ- 
ent languages. I began to take .ill these different 
cliches from various parts i >t the world jn<J put 
them together And I call it "Good Advice." ( )ne 
of the poems I put together: 

People strain at a gnat. 
But they sw all< i\v a camel 
A wise- man bets 
And a f< >< il gambles 

The difference between a better and a gam- 
bler: a gambler is going to stay there to win it all 



50 



Rl lOTSOl KIIVI1IM \\l I |',|l | s 



But the better bets this and bets that, and says, "If 
I lose, I'm through." 

Barking dogs 
Seldom bite. 

A barking dog always warns the people, and 
there's nobody going to look for him to bite 
them. Everytime somebody gets bit by a dog — 
ten to one — he didn't see him coming or didn't 
hear him, 

What's done in the dark, 
Will come to the light. 

That's a fact. Because many things done in the 
dark, take a long time to get here. Some of them 
take nine months or more. Most of the time it's 
done in the dark. 

You can't tell a farmer 
From a lover. 
You can't tell a book 
By its cover. 

So these are the tacts of life. 
Repeat each one as above. 
Then add, "That's good advice." 
You keep on going 
When you're sure you're right. 

A weak brain 
And a narrow mind 
Cause many a man 
To be left behind. 

A heap of people see 
But a very few know. 
Many a one start. 
But a mighty few go. 

The darkest part of night 
Is just before day. 
And when the cat is gone 
The mice gonna play. 

All these things 

Is good advice, you know. 

You can't get blood from a turnip. 
All glitter ain't gold. 
You can get good music 
When you play with soul. 

Cause everything that's started 
I las to have an end. 
And if you keep on betting. 
Sooner or later you'll win. 

A still tongue 
Makes a wise head. 
These are the things 
That the wise folks said. 

Now all this is Rood advice. 



When I go to the source, the roots of all 
American music, I find out it was the blues to 
begin with. All American music comes from the 
blues. We put the roots down. It was like discov- 
ering America. 

II ////c Dixon, musician, composer and founder oj Blues 
Heaven Foundation, Inc., is often referred to as "the 
Intel laureate of the blues " For more than 50 years, 
\l illie Dixon has shaped the < ourse of this musical 
genre and has campaigned for the recognition oj the 
blues and its artists as the < ornerstone oj American 
popular music 

Further Readings 

Bastin, Bruce. 1986. Red River Blues: The Blues Tradi- 
tion in the Southeast Urbana: University of Illinois 
Press. 

Charters. Samuel. 1991. The Blues Maker. New York: 
Da Capo Pass 

Evans, David 1987. Big Road Blues New York: Da 
Capo Press 

Guralnick, Peter. 1 988, Feel Like Going Home. New 
York: Harper and Row. 

. 1989 Searching for Robert Johnson. 

New York: E.P Dutton. 

Palmer, Robert 1981. Deep Flues. New York: Penguin 
Books. 

Pearson, Barry Lee. l l »8i "Sounds So Good To Me": Tl.'e 
Bluesman's Story Philadelphia University of Penn- 
sylvania Press. 

Titon, Jeff Todd. 1977. Early Downhome Blues A Musi- 
cal and Cultural Analysis Urbana: University of 
Illinois Press. 

Suggested Listening 

Blues Rediscoveries Folkways RF11, 

Dixon, Willie. The Chess Box MCA 16500. 

Dixon, Willie. Hidden Charms Capitol/Bug 7905952. 

House, Son. The Complete Library of Congress Sessions 
1941-42 Travelin' Man 02. 

Johnson, Robert The Complete Recordings. Columbia 

CZK4622. 
Lockwood, Robert jr. and Johnny Shines. Hanging On 

Rounder C-2023 
\eirs and the aim's Telling li Like It Is. Columbia 

CK46217. 
Patton, Charlie Founder of the Delta Blues. Yazoo 

1020. 

Roots of Robert Johnson Yazoo 1073- 
The Country Blues: Vol I Folkways RF1. 
The Country Blues. Vol. J. Folkways RF9. 



ROOTS OF RHYTHM AND BLUES 3 1 



FAMILY FARMING IN THE HEARTLAND 



Family Farm Folklore 



Betty J. Belanus 




Three generations oj the Peters family of Vallonia, Indiana, pose 

in front of the sign that shows their farm as having been 

in the family for over a century 

Photo courtes) Jackson < ountj Schneck Memorial Hospital 

The "economic crisis" of the early 1980s ri- 
valed the Great Depression of the 1930s in its 
impact on family farming, Its effects are still 
being felt today. Some farms that have been in 
families for a century or more have none bank- 
rupt; people who love working the land have 
been forced to move to towns or cities and work 
in factories or offices. In man) rural areas. 
churches and schools have closed or merged 
with those in nearby towns because populations 
have become depleted. Some farmers complain 
they don't know their neighbors any more, as 
farmland is turned into housing developments or 
is bought up by large agribusinesses. 

But man} family farms have survived. In spite 
of the ups and downs of fluctuating agricultural 
markets, unpredictable weather, and debt pay- 
ments, they have found strategies to persevere. 



1 .iiiiiK Farming in the Heartland has been made 
possible by the Smithsonian Institution and the I s 
I department of Agriculture 



Strategies include redividing labor among family 
members, diversifying crops and livestock, and 
establishing a farm-related "side business" t< i 
supplement income. There seem to be as many 
combinations of strategies for survival as there 
are farm families. And even in the "Heartland" 
states of the Midwest, often considered a ho- 
mogenous region oi European Americans, a great 
variety of family farms exists 

Midwestern family farms include small "truck 
patches" and huge hog producers; medium-sized 
beef cattle farms and thousands of acres in corn, 
soybeans .\nd wheat, fruit orchards and large 
daiiy farms. And the families that operate the 
farms include African American farmers, whose 
grandfathers moved north to work in the city 
long enough to afford a piece of land, descen- 
dants of Northern. Central and Eastern European 
farmers, who came to America seeking land and 
opportunities unavailable to them in the Old 
Country; American Indian farmers whose agricul- 
tural tradition stretches hack millennia on the 
continent; and recent Southeast Asian immigrant 
farmers, who work cooperatively to provide their 
communities with foods they were familiar with 
in their Ik imeland. 

It's almost impossible, therefore, to define "the 
Heartland family farmer." It's easier to mention a 
few common traits. We've found two things that 
the families researched for this years Festival 
have m common — a body oi skills and knowl- 
edge inherited between generations within An 
ethnic and rural tradition; and a keen interest in 
and understanding of their rural past, reflected in 
family histories, stories, photos and memorabilia 
These two qualities — knowledge and conscious- 
ness — can be called "family farm folklore," and 
they have helped rural families maintain a way of 
life few of them would willingly trade for easier 
and often more profitable lives in towns and 
cities. 

The folklore of farm families is unique, for it 
emerges where occupation intertwines with fam- 
ily, where all household members are. or have 
been at one time, involved with the life of the 



52 



I- Will "l I AKMIV , l\ Till HEARTLAND 




Mandan Indians, Lydia Sage-Chase am/ her husband, Bob, m their garden in North Dakota Today. Lydia and other 
members of her family carry on farming traditions, using seeds passed down through the generations, blessing the 

crops eacli year with special ceremonies- Photo courtesy Lydia Sage-Chase 



farm. Farm families arc not like those where fa- 
ther and often mother work outside the home 
and interact with children only in mornings and 
evenings, on weekends and during vacation. 
Most farm families live in an almost constant state 
of "togetherness." This often extends to grand- 
parents and sometimes even great-grandparents, 
who live nearby and still help on the farm. The 
folklore of families owning other types of family 
businesses may be somewhat similar — but (arm- 
ing is as much a distinctive lifestyle as it is a busi- 
ness. Some examples will bring this unique type 
of family folklore into focus. 

Consciousness of a Rural Past 

Like many other families, Heartland farm fami- 
lies mark their histories with documents, photo- 
graphs, stories and various types of material ob- 
jects. But the way a farm family constructs its 
history is remarkable in the extent to which their 
history reflects that of the farm itself. Large aerial 
photographs of the farm 20 years ago and today 
may take up part of the living room wall; home 
displays of photographs mix family portraits with 
images of children showing prize daily or bed 
cattle. Future Farmers of America (FFA) certifi- 
cates of merit, and blue ribbons won at the 4-H 
fair for perfect garden vegetables. 

Some families have written lengthy histories of 
their ancestors, or are included as founding 



members in community or county histories. 
Along with writing, other families have found 
unique ways of preserving and displaying their 
past. lona Todd and her daughter. Deonna Todd 
Green, from Mecosta County, Michigan, created 
an extraordinary family quilt. It tells the story of 
Stephen Todd's escape from slavery, his marriage 
to Caroline Todd, their eventual settlement as 
pioneer fanners, and their six generations of de- 
scendants; the quilt incorporates family oral nar- 
ratives, Bible lei orcls. and documents found 
through library research. The mother and daugh- 
ter quilters have also created an "old settler's 
quilt" commemorating other African American 
homestead farmers in the history ol their county. 

Family stories are one of the most important 
means of conveying family history. Like photo- 
graphs, these also can reflect a rural past. For 
instance, Ordell ("Bud") Gustad who farms with 
his three sons in Volin, South Dakota, likes to tell 
the story of how his father raised enough cash to 
start farming on his own in the 1930s. Ineligible 
for a WPA (Works Project Administration) job. 
Bud's father got the ingenious idea of selling 
coffee and doughnuts to the WPA workers. The 
next year, he started farming on his "coffee and 
doughnut" money. 

Another recollection from the recent past gives 
a humorous family- story a rural twist. Judy Bor- 
man, who grew up on and now runs her family's 



I Wlin FARMING IN THE HEARTLAND 35 




Marktavious Smith with his son and mother-in-law, Mane Berry Cross, at home in Mecosta County, Michigan Their 

ancestors settled in Michigan as farmers in I860 The fiddle has been handed down for five 

generations from the time of the first settlement Photo In Roland Freeman, © 1986 



dairy farm in Kingdom City. Missouri, with her 
husband, Harlan, tells the story of how she was 
almost late to her own wedding. Before the cere- 
mony she spent a little too much time showing 
oft the family farm to the out-of-town guests. Bv 
the time she arrived at the church to get dressed, 
most ol the guests had already arrived and were 
seated. To avoid being seen by anyone, she 
sneaked into the dressing room by climbing up 
the fire escape. 

Along with stones, the material items that farm 
families choose to collect also reflect the impor- 
tance ol the farm in their lives A common col- 
lectible is model farm machinery. A wall of 
shelves in the living room or family room often 
displays their collection, which more often than 
not reflects the type of machinery currently or 
once owned by the family. Larry Loganbach. 
whose family has raised cucumbers, tomatoes, 
and sugar beets tor several generations in north- 
western Ohio, found himself in a dilemma when 
his young son requested a model sugar beet har- 
vester lor a Christmas present. Since none of the 
commercial farm machinery model companies 
carried such a relatively uncommon item, Larry 
and his wile. Connie, labored for weeks after the 



children were asleep to build the desired toy. 
Lain has since completed la of these models at 
the request of other sugar beet farming families. 
While many families proclaim their rural past 
by displaying old plows or other parts of used 
machinery on a lawn, or by incorporating them 
into a mailbox post, the Arnold family of Rush- 
ville, Indiana, restored the original 1820 log 
homestead on their farm as a tribute to the farm's 
founders. The modest cabin stands as a physical 
reminder of the humble beginnings of the family, 
and of then progress over the years. The farm- 
house that Eleanor and Jake Arnold live in — the 
second house on the farm, built in 1853 — is 
itself a tribute to earlier members of the family. 

Knowledge and Skills 

Most knowledge and skills needed to run a 
family larm are passed clown from one genera- 
tion to the next through a process combining 
informal learning and formal apprenticeship. As 
children follow their parents around the home 
and farm, they are gradually introduced to simple 
tasks. They graduate to more complex ones as 
time goes on. At the same time, most farm chil- 
dren in the past several generations have been 



3 t I Wlll\ FARMING IN THI HEARTLAND 



encouraged to join rural-based clubs that more 
formally prepare them for farm life. Recently, 
more and more young people have attended 
college, studying agriculture and bringing mod- 
ern innovations back to the farm. The older gen- 
eration has embraced what they find useful in 
this new knowledge, combining it with the tried 
and true methods of the farm operation. 

As most farmers will admit, farming often re- 
lies more on continual trial-and-error than on 
science. Traditional knowledge also helps. Dave 
Jones of Brown County, Nebraska, explains how 
his father used the phases of the moon and the 
information in a farm almanac to guide his plant- 
ing. While Dave does not always use this method 
today, he has become known in his family and 
community as a weather predictor in recent 
years. Applying information he read several years 
ago in a farm magazine, Dave predicts the com- 
ing winter's snowfall by examining the choke- 
cherry and plum bushes in the area. 11 there is 
not enough fruit on these bushes for small ani- 
mals to store, then there will be less snowfall to 
allow them to forage for food. This knowledge 
has served Dave and his two farming sons, Tom 
and Jim, well in the past few years, warning them 
to store more feed and hay for farm animals if a 
severe winter is predicted. 

Children are usually introduced to more com- 
plex chores on the farm before the age of ten. 
Bradley Peters of Jackson County, Indiana, was 
almost eight last year when he received his first 
heifer calf, which he raised under his father 
Larry's supervision as a 4-H project. The heifer 
has now been bred, and when she calves, Brad- 
ley will get to raise the offspring as well. He 
trades work on the farm for feed for the heifer. 
His father proudly says that his son is building "a 
little business of his own" and saving money 
toward his college education. Other farm children 
have started their own profitable side businesses 
as well, building on what they learn from their 
parents as well as the skills they learn from clubs 
like 4-H and FFA. 

Recently, many farmers have been attempting 
to reduce the chemicals used in the form of fertil- 
izers and herbicides on the farm, and to employ 
more aggressive soil conservation methods. For 
the Cerny brothers of Cobden, Illinois, this means 
a blend of traditional practices they have already 
been engaged in for years, and soil conservation 
techniques like "no-till," which leaves corn resi- 
due in the field after harvest to act as mulch and 
reduce erosion. As Norbert Cerney puts it, "This 
land has been farmed for a long time, and it's 
been farmed hard. . . . Maybe we can leave 




Close by the original family farm house, the Cemy brothers oj 

Cobden. Illinois, prepare t<> plant tomato seeds in the hotbed 

their grandfather built Most vegetable growers now begin 

their seeds in green-houses, but the Cernys prefer the 

oliler method Photo by LeeEUen Friedland 



things a little better than we found them." 

Generally, family farmers seem conservative 
and progressive at the same time. Machine sheds 
house small tractors dating back to the 1940s, 
which are often still used for some farm opera- 
tions, side-by-side with giant tractors with com- 
puterized dashboard controls and stereo sound 
systems. The old and the new, the older genera- 
tion and the younger generation, come together 
on the family farm. Like folklore itself, life on the 
family farm embodies both continuity and dis- 
juncture, change and durability. 



Betty Heliums i\ the Curator of this year's Family Farm 
program She grew u[> on a [arm in the dairying area oj 
Addison County, Vermont, and holds her Ph. D in 
folklorefrom Indiana University 



Further Readings 

Americans in Agriculture: Portraits of Diversity 1990 
Yearbook of Agriculture. Washington: U.S. Depart- 
ment ( >t Agriculture. 

Berry. Wendell. 1977. The Unsettling of America Cul- 
ture and Agriculture San Francisco: Sierra Club 
Books. 

Friedberger, Mark. 1988. Farm Families and Change in 
Twentieth-Century America. Lexington: I Iniversity 
Press of Kentucky. 

Klinkenborg, Verlyn. 1986 MakingHay. New York: 
Vintage Departures 

Ki >hn, 1 1( iward 1988 The Last Farmer: An American 
Memoir New York Harper and Row. 

Rhodes, Richard. 1989. Farm: A Year in the Life of an 
American Farmer. New York: Simon & Schuster, 



FAMILY FARMIM, [\ Till HEARTLAND 



55 



A Year in the Life 
of a Family Farmer 



Steven Berntson 



Steven Berntson farms with his wife, Joanne, and 
sail Panic/ in northwest Iowa, nearPaullina The 
farm has been in the family for 80 wars, estab- 
lished by Steven's grandfather, a Norwegian im- 
migrant. The following are excerpts from his per- 
sonal journal for the year 1990 

Thursday, January 11 

In Roman mythology, Janus, guardian of por- 
tals and patron of beginnings, was a god of two 
faces: one looked forward, the other hack 

We are deep into winter, and the great snows 
of the season are swirling upon us. These days 
are an enforced break from busyness, a rare time 
for quiet thought. And so 1 look forward and 
back in my own inner inventory of what it means 
to belong to the land, 

Robert Frost once wrote, "We were the land's 
before the land was ours." It is a line that seems 
paradoxical but isn't. We claim ownership in 
titles a\m\ deeds, but in the end, what are we 
without cornfields? Without the farmer, the earth 
is yet the earth. Without the earth, what is the 
farmer? 

We d<> not own the land, it owns us It gainers 
our days and steals our hearts II tanning were a 
drug, we would all be addicts, 

Sc imehi >w , w hen \ < >u farm, e\ erything gets all 
mixed up together — your wile and kids, your 
acres and your work, your home and your life 
itself. It gets all knitted together in what we call 
the home place. Painted on the great white barns 
with a date neatly inscribed below, the name of 
the home place is spoken in a reverential, almost 
In >ly w ay 

The home place: a remembered place' A place 
of sec rets .md memories and dreams ( )| mistakes 
as well. 

A sale place- A place where you know who 
you are, A place of stories, A place to go back to, 
sometimes in person, more often in mind. 

For myself, I am deeply grateful to m\ parents 



and grandparents lor the rich life they gave me as 
a child on this particular home place, the place of 
my mi >< irings. 

Tuesday, February 6 

I'm deep in the art of taxes; my lax appoint- 
ment is Friday. Bookkeeping is not my forte, but 
it must be dc inc. 

Today I also paid tor some of my seed corn 
bul won't pick it up until late April, just before 
planting. Is seed corn ever getting expensive! 
Some ol il is now over $70 a bushel. In return. 
I'm lucky if I can get S2 a bushel lor the corn I 
grow and sell. Who said farming ever made 
sense-' 

Saturday, February 17 

My attention is slutting from the farming year 
past to the- year upcoming. I have finished my 
taxes and am doing some thinking about crop 
insurance lor the next year. I low much risk 
should 1 take? 

This afternoon I'm going to a meeting to hear 
about the government farm program tor l ( ) l tl) 

Thursday, March 1 

March I is the traditional date lor the major 
mo\ c-s lit the year: taking possession « il a newly- 
bought farm, making payments on a mortgage. 
moving to a rented place, etc. In that sense, it is 
the beginning of a tanner's year. 

I can never begin a new farming season with- 
out thinking of my Grandpa Berntson, a Norwe- 
gian immigrant, who exactly 80 years ago this 
very day made that fateful move from an 80-acre 
hill farm in Marshall County in southeastern Iowa 
to this farm near Paullina. How many times have 
I heard that long and eloquent story! I low he 
loaded his family and machinery and livestock 
and furniture on two freight cars, and then on An 
unseasonably warm March day was surprised to 
be met at the Paullina depot by his new neigh- 
bors, who helped him move the final live miles 



36 I AMI •) I ARMING l\ II II III -Aid I V.I l 




Dried soybeans arc lifted by elevator into a steel bin for winter storage 
Steve and bis father, Glenn, watch from below 
Photo by Bill Neibergall, courtesy Des Moines Register 



to a new farm and a new life. Here he and his 
wife. Karma, the enchanting evangelist from 
Mayville, North Dakota, who had stolen his heart 
at a tent meeting, achieved a good measure of 
worldly success in their farming (buying a second 
farm in the midst of the Great Depression), only 
to have their confidence in themselves and in 
their God grievously shaken when scarlet fever 
plucked two of their children, Burdette and 
Beulah, from the bloom of childhood. 

I write this in the very house — indeed, in the 
very room — they died. And that has meaning, 
too: if the story of my immigrant grandfather 
sustains and fortifies me, it also scares me. in 
caution and apprehension. 

I am a keeper of his story, a custodian of his 
old-but-not-so-odd dream of land, and the inheri- 



tor of that promise. But in a larger 
and truer sense, I am more than 
curator. I am creator. For I own 
the land adjacent to his land; my 
dream borders his. His place has 
become my place. 

And yet it is not a case of intru- 
sion, of a stranger in his place. It 
is the fulfillment of his place. 

Monday, March 26 

The snowstorm that swirled in 
just ahead of April had to give 
way quickly to the sun and the 
thaw. 

It was a rich snow, indeed, for 
it leaves behind a greening earth 
that contrasts wildly with the dirti- 
ness of fall's leftovers. And this is 
a green like no other. I have often 
marveled at the solid green of 
corn neck-deep in a wet July, and 
then after the harvest another kind 
of richness in the color of money. 
But here in the green spring there 
is no price whatever, but a bar- 
gain basement value of promise 
and hope. 

Tuesday, April 10 

These spring days are tentative 
and yet decisive. 

I began field work today, seed- 
ing 20 acres ot oats on last year's 
cornstalks. There is something ele- 
mental and fundamental about 
sowing oats — no high-tech ma- 
chinery, no herbicides, no fertil- 
izer except for what I haul out ol 
the barn. 
The crisp air was utterly intoxicating, the 
crunch of cornstalks a potent medicine tor a 
farmer's soul. 

High overhead, flocks of Canada geese plow eel 
faint furrows into then own wist blue prairie 
fields. 

What a marvelous day! 

Saturday, April 21 

We still haven't had a good spring rain, so 
farmers can work in their fields without interrup- 
tion from the weather. Joanne and Daniel and I 
have been living kites in the evenings when the 
wind goes d< iwn. 

Wednesday, May 2 

I started planting corn today. Here in northwest 
Iowa we try to plant our corn between May 1 and 



FAMILY FARMING IN Till. HEARTLAND 37 




Steve inspects an ear of com Steve's father built this storage bin in 19 2from wire and old telephone poles Thesun 

and the wind dry these ears naturally, unlike the mechanical process used in closet/ steel bins 

Photo b) Bill Neibergall, courtesy Des Moines Register 



May K) — earlier than May 1 and you risk dam- 
age from frost, later than May 10 and the crop 
doesn't have a hill growing season 

Friday, May 18 

Daniel was excited today to have our ol the 
nests (i| ducks hatch out. The mother has 18 in 
her brood Where hut on a farm does a child 
grow up so close to life, to birth and death itself? 

Saturday, May 26 

I finished planting soybeans today. It's a job I 
enjoy for many reasons: it doesn't require quite 
the precision corn planting does, the days are 
warmer, it's the end ol spring planting. 

Memorial Day is just around the corner, I'm 
read) fi >i a nap! 

Monday, June -4 

II is the season of motherhood again. The farm 
teems with life. 

The hoghou.se is lull ol hog music, sometimes 
nearly deafening as the sows, with deep rhyth- 



mic grunts, call their piglets, who squeal and 
fight t iver their milk. 

Several litters ol kittens have been born in the 
bales of the barn, but it will be a lew weeks yet 
before the tabbies bring their young out into the 
wi irld. 

Daniels dinks have hatched lour nests, to- 
talling 17 ducklings, and some of the ducks are 
now sitting on their second clutch of eggs, 

( )ur grove is home to squirrels, owls, wood 
clucks And a host of smaller birds. Badgers and 
foxes have dug dens lor their young in the grass- 
hack terraces, and pheasants and partridge are 
nesting in the grassy waterways of the fields 

Life is on its legs again, and I exult. 

Tuesday, June 12 

What a terrible hailstorm last night! [ doubt if 
there is a more horrifying sound to a farmer than 
the clanging and banging of hailstones on the 
n K >f . 

I have been through desiccating drought be- 



S8 



will i I \UMI\c. \K nil HEART1 \M) 



fore — it wears on the soul like a lingering, lan- 
guishing cancer. Hail is easier to take — like a 
heart attack — sudden, swift, definite, definable. 

My beans have been hurt the worst, but not 
enough to warrant replanting. 

Wednesday, June 20 

Late this afternoon Daniel raced out to the 
field to ride the tractor with me while I finished 
cultivating the beans. Back and forth, back and 
forth we went, to the throaty solo of the Farmall 
M. 

Then, as the day was dying, a doe and not 
one, but two fawns shadowed forth to our little 
stream for an evening drink. They came closer, 
ever so close, and we sensed then a kinship with 
them. 

Utterly motionless, they stared, but music like 
the "Moonlight Sonata" cascaded from their wild 
brown eyes, and I understood every note. Both 
melodies are inscribed this hour upon my heart. I 
know which is the more beautiful. 

Monday, July 2 

We baled our second cutting of hay today. 
The recent rains have made for a lot of hay, but 
it's also tougher to get the hay to dry properly. 

Sunday, July 22 

Both sides of my family have been having 
their annual summer reunions. Typical summer 
reunions: lots of talk (same old stories, a few 
new ones), too much food, a few new babies, 
pictures, too much lemonade, relatives I see ev- 
ery day and others I see only at reunions. 

What compels these family reunions? It is, I 
believe, a fundamental curiosity about yourself. 
Apart from your kin, you cannot begin to under- 
stand who you are or what you mean. Their stoiy 
gives the sense to your story. 

Bound by kinship to the soil and to one an- 
other, these are my people. We relish our time 
together. Good families don't just happen; they 
need to be nourished and nurtured 

Tuesday, August 7 

We've been busy shelling last year's corn. As 
farmers go, I am about as average as average can 
be, farming a half section of land in a typical 
corn/soybean rotation and raising hogs. 

But I am decidedly old-fashioned in picking 
corn in the ear and then shelling it the next sum- 
mer, rather than simply combining my corn in 
the field. 

Corn shelling is some of the most grueling, hot 
and dusty work on the farm, yet we seem to 
enjoy it. That's in part because we enjoy each 
other — joking, telling stories, eating together. 



There is a place for everyone. I remember 
how my grandfather in his eighties could still 
take pride in just being able to bring out lunch, 
even though he couldn't scoop corn the vigorous 
way he once did. 1 

Thursday, August 23 

This morning I went to an auction of 80 acres 
of land about five miles from home. Early specu- 
lation was that the land might go for around 
$2,300 an acre. That was optimistic; it sold for 
$1,940. 

Sometimes I get a little weary from all the talk 
about what land is worth, and I think that in the 
deepest sense, to the true farmer, it's beyond and 
apart from dollars. Sure, I suppose it's more fun 
the more digits that are on your net worth state- 
ment, but it's a shallow measure. One of the 
greatest crimes inflicted upon rural America is the 
notion that somehow a man's net worth and his 
human worth are one and the same. When you 
belong to the earth it really doesn't matter. 

Tuesday, September 25 

We had our first hard, killing frost last night, a 
reminder of how fickle fall can be. 

One day you marvel in an immense sky and 
heady, crisp air. And the next day the sky turns 
sullen and melancholy and leaden, and the wind, 
like work, finds you no matter where you try to 
hide. 

1 suppose you could decipher the season in 
terms of jet streams and fading chlorophyll and 
mean temperatures, and you would be correct, in 
a sense. But not really, for fall has more to do 
with meanings than reasons, 

Wednesday, October 3 

Our soybean harvest is in full swing now. 
Most of the beans are averaging 24 bushels an 
acre, which is about half the normal crop. It's the 
biggest loss I've had in my 15 years of farming. 

When you farm, you take your losses with 
your gains 

Saturday, October 20 

We picked corn again today, and it looks like 



'Author's note Corn shelling is the process in which ears 
of corn arc removed from a turn crib using .1 horizontal 
elevator called a dragfeed, and then run through a sheller — 

a combine-like machine which removes the kernels from the 
cobs. A typical shelling crew includes two or three men in the 
crib to scoop the corn into the dragfeed, one man to run the 
sheller and others to level oil cobwagons and truck the corn 
to town Corn shelling is considered hard work both because 
of the physical exertion required and because it is dusty- 
work, often done in the hottest days <>l summer jnd the 
coldest days of winter 



FAMILY FARMING IN THE HEARTLAND 



3 C ) 




Steve and Daniel inspect the farm from their pickup 

truck Photo b\ Bill Neibergall, courtess 

Des Moines Register 



we could get clone this next week with any luck 
at all. Dad dines tlie picker tractor, and Daniel 
and I haul and unload the corn. Joanne and I 
will he relieved when harvest is over because we 
worn about the danger of .ill these machines. 
Accidents happen in a twinkling. 

Daniel's job is to stay on the tractor and work 
the hydraulic lever that raises the wagon as I 
unload the corn into the elevator lies very 
proud that he can "higher the wagon, as he 
tails it 

I'm not sure which I enjoy more: listening to 
(\.u\ as he tells about his 50 years < >l cornpicking, 
or answering Daniels delightful questions. 

At 36, I wonder — at what other job are you 
blessed at once with the wisdom ol a 76-year-old 
and the wonder ol a 6-year-old? 

Saturday, November 3 

Today Daniel and I tore out an ancient, sag- 
ging fence just north of our cattle shed. It wasn't 
a long stretch, only 150 feet or so, and it served 
no useful purpose, holding nothing either in or 
( nil 

When the ^\a\ was clone, all (hat was left were 
two sets ol footprints in the mud. irresistibly 



metaphorical. Daniel was walking, quite literally, 
in my footsteps. 

One of my favorite and most comical images 
of my lather comes from when he would get 
home from a long day in the field, and then, 
doing chores, would be trailed by — in approxi- 
mately this order — his elderly father, his brother 
and partner in farming, his youngest son, the clog 
and at least a dozen cats. The cats were waiting 
for him to milk the cow; the rest ol the proces- 
sion had assorted concerns of the day. It made 
lor quite a collection ol footsteps. 

Tuesday, November 13 

We received our first serious snow ol the sea- 
son today, about three inches. The first snow is a 
marker ol the season, like the first frost. The gray 
slate of the land and the year are now cleared. 
There is no liner imagery than snow; even the 
Scriptures use it: crimson sins are washed "whiter 
than snow The snow has blanketed our fields, 
covering whatever the sins of our farming were. 

Sunday, November 18 

As I write on this quiet, rural autumn evening, 
the western sky, like embers upon a hearth, 
sends marvelous shadows across the land. It is 
spectacular in its subtlety. We are but lour days 
from Thanksgiving. I wonder, could Thanksgiv- 
ing have found a more reflective time of year? 

Tuesday, December 18 

Working with the soil doesn't automatically 
endow a man with either wisdom or philosophy, 
but it does accord him an understanding of the 
sequences and cycles ol the seasons 

A farmer lives by these seasons, and it is good 
to have them clearly and cleanly defined, not bv 
the calendar, but by the days themselves. You 
plant your fields; you harvest them in their clue 
season, again and again and again, in endless 
repetition, until one clav you are worn out and 
used up and gone. And then in that final harvest, 
i he farmer himself is planted into the soil, his 
final seed. 

We are slipping again into the deep midwin- 
ter, I walk into the still, star-shot night, pondering 
the \ear past, looking up, like Whitman's learned 
astronomer, in perfect silence at the stars. 

Steven Bernlson /turns and writes ahuut farming in 
northwest Iowa He has been puhlished in the Des 
Moines Register, the Northwest Iowa Review, and farm 
< ooperative magazines Steven graduated from Dana 
College, Blair, Vehraska, with a B. A in English 



40 lAMin FARMING IN THE HEARTLAND 



The Changing Role of 
Women on the Farm 



Eleanor Arnold 



Introduction 



The role women have played in the farm fam- 
ily has changed many times over the years, hut 
one thing has remained constant — women have 
always been an essential part of the team. 

Pioneer women came into the forest and the 
plains, bringing with them one or two cherished 
pieces of furniture and "starts" of flowers from 
their previous homes. They moved into their log 
cabins and sod houses and began the long hard 
work ahead of them. They often worked side-by- 
side with their husbands, making the land ready 
for farming, while at the same time raising their 
families, cooking and preserving food, spinning 
and weaving cloth, and making a home in the 
wilderness. 

Their daughters and granddaughters in the late 
1800s and the early 1900s had their spheres of 
responsibility on the busy, self-sufficient farms of 
the era. As always, the family was the first con- 
cern of a homemaker, as she did the housework 
and child care. In addition, however, she would 
be responsible for the poultry, the dairy cows, 
the care of the milk and butter, the garden and 
the preserving of food for winter. Laundry, iron- 
ing, cooking, baking, sewing and mending t< >< >k 
much of her waking hours. She also might be 
called on for occasional light work in the tields, 
but the mores of the era argued that women 
didn't do field work. This was just as well, since 
she was busy from morning to night with her 
own work, in addition to being pregnant or nurs- 
ing through most of her work years. 

The decades surrounding World War II were a 
watershed. The advent of electricity and gasoline 
engines lightened many back-breaking and time- 
consuming chores and created some discretion- 
ary time in women's lives. The wartime call to 
the nation's factories and businesses made work- 
ing outside the home a possibility for women. 



Also during the war, women and girls worked in 
the fields to keep farm land in production, taking 
up the slack left by rural men w ho were in the 
services. 

Peacetime found farm women with more work 
options than ever before. Their responsibility for 
homemaking and child rearing did not change, 
but some continued to help with the farm work 
outside, as larger equipment and other technology 
made it possible for a single family to farm larger 
acreage. Other farm women continued their tradi- 
tional "around the house" roles but took on fur- 
ther responsibility for bookkeeping, marketing 
and other paper-work functions. Some farm 
women took full- or part-time employment off the 
farm. These trends continue to the present. 

Unlike urban families, whose daytime interests 
may vary widely, a farm family has always been 
involved in the family business together. They live 
in the midst of it; they are at their work site from 
the time they awaken. Family members work as a 
unit, sharing the work, the worries and the bene- 
fits of their lifestyle. 

This is especially true for the farm woman. She 
has always been essential to farm life. Her love of 
her family and the energy she expends to make 
life good for them are the central part of her life, 
just as they are for urban women. But the farm 
woman is also vital to the financial success of the 
family business — their farm. Her work, and 
sometimes her salary, help to make the farm eco- 
nomically viable. Her homemaking and mothering 
make the home a warm, welcoming center tor the 
whole enterprise. 

Methods of farming and the part the women 
play in the intricacies of farm and family life have 
changed through the years, but woman's vital role 
— as an essential component of the farm family 
team — has never changed. 



FAMILY I ARMING IN THE 111 \RTLAND t 1 



Interview 



Note Eleanor and Clarence "Jake" Arnold and 
their family own and operate a 1.200 acre grain 
and //restock farm in Rush County, Indiana, 
which has been continuously farmed for over 170 
years by six generations of Arnolds The following 
is excerpted from an interview with Eleanor and 
Jake Arnold conducted byfolklorist Marjorie Hunt. 

Marjorie: When you were growing up. what type 
of work did women do on the farm'' 

Eleanor: When 1 was young, women nearly al- 
ways took care of all the poultry. If yon had tur- 
keys or chickens — then that was women's work. 
My mother always did all the gardening — that 
was traditionally a farm woman's thing. You put 
out about as much as yon were going to eat be- 
cause that's where food came from. We were 
raised in the '30s — the late '20s and '30s — and 
that was very hard times on the farm. And essen- 
tially you didn't want to buy anything at the gro- 
cery store if you could manage it at home. I've 
seen many a time my mother would sit down at a 
table like this and say, "Everything on here except 
the sugar — I grew." My mother tried to preserve 
everything that she grew. She even canned meat 
because she didn't have any other way to pre- 
serve it except curing; and so she canned all her 
beet. Because il she didn't have it put away, we 
just didn't have it' 

Marjorie: What other things would women of 

your mother's generation do? 

Eleanor: Well, mother mowed the lawn, and she 
always went down and helped with milking in the 
evening. In the morning she didn't, because she 
was busy getting breakfast. Now. mother didn't 
do Held work. A lot of people thought it was 
terrible when women did field work at that time 
In lad. there wore a couple of sisters who helped 
their brother in the field. And il was the talk of the 
neighborhood! That just wasn't done when we 
were growing Lip — it was a shame to a man. 

There were a lot ol things I saw as a child that 
niv mother knew, like making soap and things 
like that. Those were women's skills: what to do 
with your meat alter it was butchered, how to cut 
it up, how to cure it, how to make the different 
sausages. These were real skills, women's skills; 
and they're no longer necessary, so they're gone. 

Well, you know the old saying, "A man works 
tn mi sun to sun, but a woman's work is never 
done." It definitely came from the time ^<\ an 
agrarian society, because men couldn't do much 



alter dark. There were no lights on the horses, 
you know, and they had to come in. But a 
woman kept right on working. 

Marjorie: When you were growing up. what were 
your responsibilities on the farm' 

Eleanor: There were two boys and two girls in 
my family. The boys helped d.id, and my sis and 
1 helped mother. The boys had to feed the 
horses, feed the cows, and we fed the chickens 
and gathered the eggs, brought in the corn, 
brought in the wood, pumped the water and 
brought it in. There were all sorts of chores that 
were d< >ne daily — sometimes two or three times 
daily. 

( )f course there was plenty to do in the 
house, too. We had kerosene lamps, and every 
morning we washed the chimneys because they 
got sooty. And so that was part of the morning 
chores: we used to wash them, clean them up, 
refill them and have them reach for when night 
came because, ol course, all your light was from 
kerosene. It wasn't that you were looking for 
something to do. Especially before electricity, 
everything was physically hard to do in the 
h< line 

Marjorie: How did changes in technology — like 
electricity — affect your family'-' 

Eleanor: Oh, electricity 1 That was the watershed 

— because before that everything was done by 
somebody's muscle, either your muscle or a 
horse's muscle. We didn't get electricity until I 
was nine years old. which would have been 
1938. Alter that, you had all sorts of help in all 
sorts ol different directions. 

Like ironing — we had these bin black irons. 
You put them on the old coal range. And when 
you thought they were warm, you held them up. 
and put your finger lout], and licked it. and 
touched it. And if it went ssst'.'W was warm 
enough. You ironed with it. And then when it got 
cool you had two or three other ones waiting on 
the stove. Most women, when they got electric its 

— the first thing they got was an electric iron. 
They weren't very expensive, and they did save 
s< i much work. 

Another big change was plumbing. Jake and I 
didn't have water in the house until 1955 — alter 
three children! We had a privy in the back and a 
well with a pump. When I was going to Whi a] 
wash, I went out to pump the water, and put it 
on the stove, and heated it, and then carried it 



I Wlll.'i FARMINl , l\ 1 1 II HEARTLAND 




Four generations of Arnold women — Jake's great-grandmother, Sarah Arnold, her granddaughter, Sarah, great- 
granddaughter, Flora and her great-great-granddaughter, Leona — pose for a picture taken 
in the early 1900s Photo courtesy Arnold family 



back out and put it in a conventional washing 
machine. It was so much work. And it was even 
more so when my mother had to wash clothes 
by nibbing on the board. Back then, laundry was 
a real skill. Now anybody can go and open up 
the door and put in laundry. But a white wash 
was something a woman was really proud of — 
"She puts out a good white wash" -- that's what 
you'd hear. 

No one wants to go back to washing on a 
board who's ever done it. No one wants u > g< > 
out to privies at night who's ever had to. There 
were lots of nice things about the good old days, 
but no one who has ever done both ways would 
want to give up the technology. 

Marjorie: After you got married, how did you 
and Jake divide the work on your farm? 

Eleanor: We've always worked as a team. But, 
you know, you divide things up. It's more effi- 



cient that way . . . and a lot of it falls along tradi- 
tional lines. At first Jake was so busy on the farm, 
and I had the little children at home, so I 
couldn't get out and help very much. So I ended 
up doing what was traditionally thought of as 
women's work on the farm. He would come in 
and help a little with the children. But he was 
tired. He was out all the time, so he didn't par- 
ticipate a lot in child care. 

Jake: After they got a little older I'd take them 
with me out on the tractor. In fact, I can even 
remember John . . . I'd actually take him on the 
cultivator. He'd crawl in between the frame and 
sit up there and ride back and forth across the 
field. And I remember one field had raspberries 
at one end that was ripe at that time. And he'd 
get off and eat some raspberries. And then he'd 
get back on and go around. And then he'd crawl 
underneath the truck and go to sleep. That's 
where he took his nap. 



FAMILY FARMING IN THE HEARTLAND 43 



Eleanor: He wanted me to have little red jackets 
for them to wear because he said he could see 
them all over the field that way. He was always 

worried — the safety factor, you know. 

Our kids have always helped. John, you just 
had to scrape him out of the [tractor] seat. He's 
always wanted to farm, 
and always was fascinated 
by machinery, and was al- 
ways right there to help. 
When the kids were grow- 
ing up — we were sort of 
in that transition period — 
we didn't have as many 
actual chores that had to 
be done. We had quit the 
chickens and the milk 
cows, so hog feeding was 
ab< >ut the only thing that 
they really had to do. 

The kids always helped 
me in the garden They 
enjoyed it. dne\ we always 
had a li it (A fun. 

As far as household 
chores, the girls always 
helped me. They shelled 
peas, and snapped beans, 
and helped me can. and 

helped clean the house. They just helped. What- 
ever I was doing, they were helping, too. We just 
all kind of worked together. Everyone pitched in. 

Marjorie: Did you work m thefields? 

Eleanor: Oh yes, I went out to the fields in the 
spring and the fall. I usually plowed and disked. 
I was one of the first ones who actually started 
working in the fields around here, hut everybody 
admired it — "Oh, that's wonderful, you know, 
\( lu're helping." 

I never planted because that's a very crucial 
part of it. and 1 never combined 1 used to drive 
the tractors and the wagons or the trucks awa\ 
from the combines I'd take the seed corn into 
town because you had to sit there and wait. Ami 
Jake's so antsy, and sitting and waiting in harvest 
season was jusl he couldn't do it. 

Jake always was good, when I was working 
out m the fields, to come in and help me with 
what had gotten behind in the house. But with 
people our age. I think there's a lot more separa- 
tion ol mens work and women's work than 
there is with kids nowadays — the young farm- 
ing couples, My son just comes in and does eve- 
rything. 1 mean he cooks, he does whatever 
needs to be done. 




Mary Arnold pretends u> help with the ironing 

by imitating her mother, Eleanor 

Photo courtesy Arnold f.imiK 



Marjorie: What are some of the other changes 
you see in your children s generation? 

Eleanor: So many women now work off the 
farm. 1 think a common pattern is to work until 
you have your children, stay home until the chil- 
dren are in school, and then go back to working 
at least part-time; and, 
maybe when the children 
are c ilder, working full- 
time. 1 think that's a very 
common pattern now in 
farm housewives. 

Well, coming out of the 
home was definitely be- 
gun during the Second 
World War. There was just 
very little of anything. 
Women were not em- 
ployed outside except as 
teachers, perhaps nurses, 
sometimes social work, 
and as soil of an informal 
thing, the hired girl. Those 
were the things that were 
open, but in the Second 
World War, it was a patri- 
( itk dut) to c< ime out of 
the home and be "Rosie 
the Riveter," and you got 
lots ( il acclaim lor doing that sort of thing. 

( )nce they had found that they could earn 
money and that the\ could work outside the 
home, they felt freer — financially freer — be- 
cause they didn't feel as dependent on the father, 
husband, brother, whatever. And also, the fact 
that their work had value meant something to 
them — like it or not. we do value by the dollar. 
il you're paid tor it. the work means more — and 
I think this was a profound change with 
women When the war was over, it never was 
unthinkable again to work outside the home. It 
wasn't an option in my mother's time and my 
sisters time, but in my time, it was an option. 

Just m our community, il you go around, 
you'll find very tew farms that are absolutely 
Kit i"d farmers. 1 mean either the husband or the 
wife works outside extra, too. 

Marjorie: What son of support groups did farm 
women have? 

Eleanor: Women's club work was, many times, 
the real salvation for women farm women, they 
stayed so close to home, and they had only a few 
things that were socially acceptable that took 
them out. That's why extension homemakers and 



It i win ', i \io\ii -.< , in i in ur \ki i v.i i 



church groups were popular 
gave women sociability. 



because they 
Marjorie: How has that changed over the years? 



Eleanor: It's changed a lot. The isolated country 
woman image is done for. You know, people 
look to find time to be 
home now, because 
they're on the go so much. 
There are so many de- 
mands on their time that a 
night at home, I think, is 
treasured now; where 
before, my mother went to 
her ladies aid, and she 
went to her home 
ec[onomics club] — and 
those were her two times 
out. She went to church 
on Sunday morning, and 
every two weeks she went 
to town to cash the milk 
check — and, literally, 
mother might not be off 
the place other than that. 
And so her home ec club 
and her ladies aid — the 
support of women, the 
talking with women, the 

being with women — meant a great deal to her. 
They meant a very great deal to her. Now, you 
might have visiting back and forth on Sunday 
afternoon, but I tell you: the rural woman's life 
was isolated. 

Marjorie: Getting hack to your own family farm, 
what made you decide to go into farming'-' 

Eleanor: It's a choice we made together when 
we were still down at school. We were two farm 
kids, and we knew what life was like on the 
farm, the good and the bad. And we stood at a 
crossroads, you might say. "Shall we go on with 
our education and do something else that w ill 
probably make us more money — more spend- 
able income — or shall we go back to the lite we 
know?" And we both together decided we 
wanted to go back to the life we knew. Because 
we felt there's so many values there that we 
wanted to have for ourselves, that we'd had in 
our own lives. And we wanted our children to 
have them, too. 

Marjorie: What do you value must about your 
way of life? 

Eleanor: Well, the fact that we're together. We're 
working together, and we have common and 




John Arnold pretends to dure his father's tractot 
Photo courtesy Arnold family 



shared aims. It's not just the man and the wife, 
it's the children also. I think (the farm] is the fin- 
est place there is to raise a family. For one thing, 
you don't have as many worries because the chil- 
dren are always there with you. They're sharing 
and working, and they're talking to you about 

what's going on. They see 
what daddy does, and he's 
right there. He's in and 
he's otit, and they're in 
and out with him. I think 
it's fairer to the male. Be- 
cause I think [in urban 
life] when the male goes 
away early in the morning 
and comes back home 
tired, and the woman has 
to do all the discipline and 
so forth — I think it's 
unfair to the male. 

Jake: I'll agree with that. 
You've got to realize, 
when I walk out the door 
I'm at my workplace. No 
commuting time! It's great, 
you know. I come in. and 
— we've always had a 
noonday meal — we see- 
the kids. Actually, you're really getting down to 
the basis of farm life. We chose it and we enjoy 
it. 

Marjorie: Eleanor, what do you consider your 
most important contribution to your family farm? 

Eleanor: Well I undoubtedly think my children 
are my greatest accomplishment. And I think that 
most women would say thai. Because whether a 
farmer or otherwise, we're very happy that we've 
raised three good children and feel that we've 
made a contribution to the community. And that's 
my greatest accomplishment. 

Now, if you're wanting to think about — as a 
farmer or as a farm woman, what's the best thing 
I've done? I don't know . . . The work I did on 
the farm for years. 1 worked for about 20 years 
un the tractor, and thai helped us economically. 
But another thing I did thai helped economically 
was that I was a very thrifty person. I always 
canned, 1 always froze, I sewed. 1 tried to use our 
funds wisely and tried to look ahead and see that 
we needed to save. 1 think that's a good deal ol 
my contribution — spending the money wisely. 

There's an old country saying — "She can 
throw it out the front door with a teaspoon faster 
than he can scoop it in the backdoor with a 



I Wlin I ARMING IN 1 1 If HEARTLAND 45 




'^■ujN '•> 



The Arnold family in 1991 Photo by Marjorie Hum 



si oop shovel" — for a woman who isn't thrifty, 
Because there's only a certain amount of money 
that comes in from the (arm. and how you use 
that limited amount makes a good deal of differ- 
ence 

Marjorie: Are you still canning? 

Eleanor: < )h yes! I can and freeze, I can green 
beans. I can applesauce, I can peaches. I can 
pickles. I can tomatoes, and 1 do tellies and pre- 
serves with whatever we have that year. , . . And 
I freeze peas and peaches and all the fruits — 
cherries, raspberries, blueberries. Everything is 
grisl to my mill — whatever comes that we cant 
eat fresh, win. I freeze it 

Marjorie: Who does the hunks m yourfamily? 

Eleanor: lie was an accounting major — I have 
nothing to do with them! I'm the world's worst 
with books. 

Marjorie: / understand that in some farm fami- 
lies women hare that responsibility, 

Eleanor: Many, many times 1 would say we're 
an exception. An awful lot of women do it. 

Jake: A lot of women do marketing. Quite a lew 
ot them, they're quite good at it. They're not as 
emotional as a man, I think they look at it more 
objectively. They're better traders than a man in 
Si inic i ases 

Marjorie: You mentioned to me that there used to 
he a farm on every 80 acres? 

Eleanor: That's so very true You can look up 
and down this road and see where there are 



homesites — the homes are no longer there. 
Because as the people who were living on the 
Nils got older And died or moved into town, the 
person next to them bought the land. He wanted 
to farm it. ... So you have all these old home- 
sites where maybe the daffodils still come up or 
there's still a lilac bush blooming, but the home- 
places are gone. This is not just here, it's happen- 
ing everywhere. The technological advances, the 
larger equipment, means a farmer's able to farm 
more land. 

Marjorie: )<>// once told me that there's no money 
in farming, yon hare to love farming to farm 

Jake: You asked me it 1 could tell a successful 
farmer driving down the road. And then I got to 
thinking. "What is a successful farmer?" And I 
came to the conclusion that if he's kept half way 
financially secure, and raised a good family with 
decent kids, and put a little something else back 
into the community, he was a success — whether 
he had 1(1.00(1 acres or just five. That's the truth. 1 
feel that, 

Eleanor: We could sell all our land, and we 
could put the money in the bank, and we could 
live oil the interest better than we do now. We 
want to live like this. 



Eleanor Arnold is the project director and editor of 
Memories ol Hoosiei Homemakers, a six-volume oral 
history foi using on the life and work of rural women in 
Indiana, and Voices ot American Homemakers, a 
national version She attended the Folklore Summer 
Institute for Community Scholars at the < office of 
Folklife Programs in 1990 

Marjorie I taut is </ folklorist and resean h assoi iate with 
the i V//i e oj Folklife Programs Her interest in family 
farming steins from her own family's tvots on u farm in 
southwestern Missouri 

Further Readings 

Arnold, Eleanor, ed 1983-1988 Memories of Hoosier 
Homemakers (6 volume series) Indiana Extension 
I li imemakers Ass< iciation. 

. 1985 Voices of American Homemak- 
ers National Extension Homemakers Council 

Jensen, Joan M, 1986, With These Hands Women 
Working on the Land. < )ld Westbury, New York: 
Feminist Press 

Thomas, Sherry, 1989, "We Didn't Have Much, But We 

Sure I Unl Plenty Rural Women in their ( lieu 
Words New York Anchor Books. 



Itl I Wim 1 \K\II\( UN (111 111 \K I I \\l i 



The Farmer and 
American Folklore 



James P. Leary 



Alert visitors to rural America will note a pro- 
liferation of bumper stickers proclaiming, "If you 
criticize the farmer, don't talk with your mouth 
full," and "Farming is everybody's bread and 
butter." In an era when many farmers feel that 
market forces and government policies threaten 
the family farm, in a time when too many people 
think milk, bread, and meat come from the store, 
these combative and pithy slogans stress the fun- 
damental importance of farming and food. 
Through them, farmers remind their non-agrarian 
neighbors, "you need me"; they inform their oc- 
cupational fellows, "I'm one of you"; and they tell 
themselves, "I'm proud to be a farmer." 

Such conscious and complex cultural expres- 
sions beg consideration of the farmer's symbolic 
place in rural life and in American society as a 
whole. Unfortunately, Ray Allen Billington's char- 
acterization of the farmer as "the forgotten man' 
of American folklore remains accurate (Fite 
1966). While investigations of the rural scene 
have been a mainstay of American folklore schol- 
ars, studies generally have been done according 
to cultural regions, ethnic groups, or folklore 
genres. We know about Appalachians, or Ozark- 
ers, or Illinois "Egyptians"; about the Pennsylva- 
nia Dutch, or the Cajun French; about barns, or 
agricultural beliefs, or rural tall tales, or common 
folks' food. But our understanding of the expres- 
sive dimensions of farming as a changing occu- 
pation has lagged. 

American farmers have stayed at home when 
frontier adventure and city lights beckoned, and 
home has always been a place where hard, re- 
petitive, dirty work is done. Farmers have been 
maligned accordingly as unsophisticated rustics: 
rubes, hicks, yokels, and bumpkins. They have 
been lumped with regional fare and its procure- 
ment and have been associated unfavorably with 
outdoor work and topography through slurs like 
prune-pickers and rednecks. 



No wonder John Lomax informed the Ameri- 
can Folklore Society in 1913 that the nation's 
folksongs concerned miners, lumbermen, sailors, 
soldiers, railroaders, cowboys, and members of 
"the down and out classes — the outcast girl, the 
dope fiend, the convict, the jailbird, and the 
tramp." No wonder Richard Dorson's America in 
Legend declared sixty years later that the nation's 
heroes were preachers, frontiersmen, boatmen, 
mill hands, bowery toughs, peddlers, cowboys, 
loggers, miners, oil drillers, railroaders, acid 
heads, and draft dodgers. The steady, family- 
oriented farmer, the backbone of the community, 
seems to have sparked few songs or stories. The 
farmer apparently embodied the dull background 
against which others loomed large. 

Despite name-calling and neglect, farmers 
have always made profound symbolic statements 
about their life and work — often in deceptively- 
simple ways. One late May afternoon in 1978, I 
was driving through Portage County in central 
Wisconsin. The corn was just poking through the 
soil as I encountered a farmer with a hand 
planter working in the corner i >t a field. His me- 
chanical planter's turning radius had prevented 
him from filling out the corn row — and he 
wanted symmetry. 

Farmers take pride in the true furrow, the 
straight row, the verdant crop-signs of their skill, 
their industry, their dedication to the land. In 
contrast to other heroes in American folklore, 
their triumph has been one of community and 
harmony, not individualism and conquest. My old 
Barron County, Wisconsin, neighbor, George 
Russell, once told me about 

... a city girl named Foy. She was a 
lawyer's daughter and [my sister] Ann 
worked for them. Ann took the girl home 
to the farm country one time, and we 
were out riding in the buggy. It was the 
late summertime and we were going 



FAMILY FARMING IN I III III ARTLAND 



47 




through the fields. And Ann said, "Nice 
country, isn't it?" She said. "Yes, but you 
can't see over the corn." 

Ms. Foy missed the point. 'The com wasthe 
a luntry. 

The Russells not only took pride in then- 
crops, but they considered their ample farm a 
"show place." The driveway and house were bor- 
dered with a stately pine windbreak. Flowers 
brightened the yard. The barns and outbuildings 
were painted vivid yellow and adorned with 
murals of livestock. Woodlot, pastures and fields 
were well-maintained and bountiful The entire 
farmstead exemplified a balance between nature 
and culture. It presented the very image that 
aerial photographers capture nowadays .\nd 
farmers frame on then" fireplace mantles: a God's- 
eye view of the farm at harvest time. 

This blissful image of the farm — drawn from 
life and emblematic of a way of life — has been 
replicated countless times, either entirely or in 
part, by countless farmers using assorted media. 
Some give their farms lyrical names and install 
porn. uis of fattened Herefords and full-uddered 
Holsteins on sign-, along the road. Some tell sto- 
nes, write reminiscences or compose poems cele- 
brating life. Others paint pictures of shared har- 
vest chores, build models of equipment, sculpt 
domestic animals and fellow farmers, or stitch 
"story quilts 

Seasons turn and times change. The harvest — 
when it comes, if it comes — is too short 



A cow sign by farmer/artist 
Ewald Klein adonis an out- 
building on the Kallenbach 

l>la<:c in Barron Count): 

it isconsin 

Phi ih i by James P. Lear 



Drought, deluge, disease, 
insects, frost, fires threaten. 
Accidents occur. Always 
there are bills to pay, and 
income is never certain. 
More give up farming ev- 
ery year. 

1 was visiting Max 
Trzebiatowski that corn- 
field afternoon in Portage 
County. Born on a farm in 
1402, he had farmed all his 
life, raised il children with 
his wile. Rose, and clone 
well. 1 le had also had 
brushes with death from a 
tall in a silo, a runaway team, a falling timber, an 
angry bull. Hut his most miserable experience 
was a brief stretch in the Great Depression when 
he sought cash to pay the mortgage by working 
in a Milwaukee brewery. 

He told me a story about a young man who 
was forced to leave the farm 

One time there was a family. They had a 
lot of boys. They didn't need them all. So 
in the spring of the year clad says. "Boys, 
some ol youse'U have to go out and find 
yourselves a job. There isn't enough work 
foi all ol us." So one morning one of the 
boys took off. And he went looking for a 
job And he went to the neighbor, if the 
neighbor needed a man for the summer? 
"No, no. we don't need a man tor the 
summer." He'd go to the next place. It was 
the same way, "We don't need.'' He tried 
maybe a do/en places. And — no work. 
Then he — by that time he was just about 
in the village. 

(Like the heroes ol "old country" magic tales, the 
youngest son sets out to seek his fortune. But 
there is no beggar or helpful animal to give him 
aid, and there are no workers needed on the 
farms. Max took his tale to town.] 

So he went into the drug store to see if 
the druggist would hire him. Druggist was 
hard up lor help; he needed a helper. But 
what did a farm boy know about a drug 



18 I Wlirv FARMING IN Till' III Mill AM) 



store? Nothing. He didn't know what this 
is called, what this sells for. He didn't 
know nothing. But the druggist thought: 
I'll keep him here for a little while and see 
what he \v< >uld make. 

He had him there for two weeks and 
the hoy was getting pretty good. He knew 
what this was being called, and what that 
sells for. And he thought heel hire him. 
He asked the boy, "How much would you 
have to have if I hired you?" 

Well, the boy hesitated. He thought if 
he was going to say too much, he 
wouldn't be hired. If he's going to say too 
little, he'll lose out. Oh he didn't say any- 
thing. 

And the druggist says: "Well, how 
about a dollar an hour?" 

And the boy hesitated for a while, and 
he says, "No, give me fifty cents." 

Then that stunned the druggist. "Why, 1 
wanted to give you a dollar, you just want 
fifty cents," he says, "Why?" 

"Well," the boy says, "just in case you 
wouldn't pay me. I wouldn't lose so 
much." 

The farmboy's response, foolish by urban stan- 
dards, nonetheless reflects such rural virtues as 
economic conservatism and mistrust of commer- 
cial middlemen. While in-town wages may be 
fixed by contract, farmers' pay depends upon the 
nature of the harvest And a fluctuating market. He 
who borrows against expected revenue, who 
counts proverbial chickens before they hatch, 
may easily "lose out." 

Family farmers as a whole have been losing 
out and leaving steadily throughout this century, 
a process revealed in recent jokes like the follow- 
ing: 

What can a bird do that a farmer can't? — 
Make a deposit on a tractor. 

and 
Did you hear about the farmer who was 
arrested for child abuse? — 
He willed the farm to his son. 

Coping with an altered rural community and 
an unstable economy also affects the expressive 
culture of those who continue. Modern farmers 
monitor the chemical composition of their soil, 
breed and feed their livestock in a way that maxi- 
mizes production, and follow market trends on 
home computers. More than a few prefer terms 
like "milk producer" or "livestock manager" to 
"farmer." Some even speak of farms as "food 




Max Trzebiatowski 
breaks out a social 
bottle of brandy 
while his wife, Ruse, 
reaches a lunch 
Portage Comity, 
Wisconsin. Photo 
by James P Leary 



factories." But as yet this is not the prevailing 
rhetoric of family farmers. To be sure, they are 
astute businessmen and women; yet they are part 
of a long tradition that is more a way of life than 
a way to make a living, and that has more to do 
with beasts and land than with products and 
cash. How future farmers will deal with the tug 
between agribusiness and agriculture may de- 
pend upon their image of just what a farm is. 
We'd better watch those bumper stickers. 



Inn leary i\ Staff Folklorist al the \\ isconsin Folk 
Museum in Mount Horeb, and Faculty Associate al 
I niversity of Wisconsin, Madison He grew up in a 
dairy farming community in northern U isconsin ami 
holds his I'h /> in folklore from Indiana I niversity 

Citations and further Readings 

Allen, Harold. 1958. Pejorative Terms for Midwestern 
Farmers, American Speech 33:26-265. 

Fite, Gilbert C, 1966, The Farmer's Frontier. New York; 
I [i ilt. Rinehart, Winston. 

Ice, Joyce, 1990. Farm Work and Fair Play Delhi. 
\'e\\ York: Delaware County Historical Society 

Kammerude, Lavern and Chester Garthwaite. 1990. 
Threshing Days The Farm Paintings of Lavern 
Kammerude. Mount Horeb, Wisconsin: Wisconsin 
Folk Museum 

bean, James P. 1991. Midwestern Folk Humor Jokes on 
Farming, Logging, Religion, and Traditional Ways 
Little Rock. Arkansas: August House 

Mitchell. Roger 1984 From Fathers to Sons A Wiscon- 
sin Family Farm (Special issue of Midwestern Jour- 
nal of Language and Folklore.) Terre Haute: Indi- 
ana State University. 



FAMILY FARMING IN Till III \K I I \M) 49 



Threshing Reunions 
and Threshing Talk: 

Recollection and 
Reflection in the Midwest 



J. Sanford Rikoon 



During summer and early fall in every mid- 
western state, public festivities celebrate agricul- 
tural technology and farm life from the first half 
of the 2(>th century. Variously called farm ma- 
chinery exhibits." "threshermen reunions,' steam 
and gas shows," "antique engine displays," and 
"old settlers' reunions," these typically weekend 
events are never quite identical, but almost all 
blend themes of community, historic farm tech- 
nology, education, and celebration. 

Threshing reunions (and celebrations with 
different names that center around threshing 
technologies) are perhaps the most alluring and 
popular of the gatherings The oldest reunions 
started m the late 1940s and early 1950s as small 
informal meetings of rural male residents who 
liked to collect and tinker with "old" machinery. 
Most of these men were farmers or retired farm- 
ers, and their "old" machinery included the gen- 
erations of threshing separators, steam engines, 
and tractors largely abandoned for pull-type com- 
bines and improved all-purpose tractors by 1950. 
People who had used the devices as part of then 
everyday operation now found themselves to 
possess "historical" artifacts and information 
about work processes increasingly unfamiliar to 
the owners' children and grandchildren. 

Small local gatherings with periodic demon- 
strations have now grown into multi-activity 
events lasting up to five days and attracting thou- 
sands of visitors, Their complex planning and 
organizing have become formally attached to 
threshermen associations, engine clubs, Lions 
Clubs and other fraternal organizations, Cham- 
bers of Commerce, and County Fair Boards. Ex- 
pansion and popularity, however, have generally 
not diluted original goals. A typical statement of 
the primary intentions of show organizers is the 
Creed of the Midwest Old Settlers and Threshers 
Association," adopted soon alter their initial show 
in 1950: 



knowing from experience that each gen- 
eration enjoys a clean, wholesome gather- 
ing of an educational and historic nature 
such as ours, the Association hopes to 

always keep gathering like this, where we 
can meet and harvest the golden memo- 
ries of yesteryear and pause in our daily 
(asks each year to visit and relax, always 
with a thought in so doing, to improve the 
future harvests of good fellowship and 
gi M id citizenship. 

In contrast to most museum displays or an- 
tique shows, threshermen reunions stress work- 
ing exhibitions. Visitors can often witness horse- 
sweeps, steam engines, and internal combustion 
engines powering grain separators ol 1880-1940 
vintage Threshing typically occupies a place at 
the center of the grounds or in front of the 
grandstands in addition, and depending on the 
number and interests of exhibitors, there may be 
demonstrations ol hay baling, sawmilling and 
veneer-making, silo filling, corn shelling, and 
meal and grain grinding. As one Ohio show ad- 
vertises, 'The Steam Show offers the entire family 
an opportunity to sec' history in action. Hundreds 
of sic-. mi .\n^\ gas engines, antique tractors and 
equipment in use, just as they were operated 
during the golden age of steam.'" 

The celebratory and educational functions of 
these events is further emphasized in the marked 
absence of midways and carnival rides. 'We pro- 
vide a festival Atmosphere, Not a Carnival" ad- 
vertises the Miami Valley Steam Threshers Asso- 
ciation in London. Ohio As individual threshing 
reunions grow in popularity and size, organizers 
typically acid activities they believe appropriate to 
a family-oriented event. Music performances tend 
to be popular country-and-western acts or old- 
time fiddle contests. Food is served by local or- 
ganizations, and camping is generally offered on 



50 



FAMILY FARMING IN TI IE HF.AK II AND 



the grounds. Some activities are not especially 
associated with agricultural tasks, but fit within 
the overall historic theme; these include antique 
shows, arts and craft displays, pioneer buildings 
and skills, horse and antique tractor pulls, steam 
railroads, calliopes, and hay and pony rides. 

Expression of regional values and beliefs is an 
important part of these celebrations. Many shows 
include an invocation by a local religious leader, 
flag raising ceremonies with the singing of the 
national anthem, local beauty, baby, and other 
competitions, a parade through town, Sunday 
morning church services, and other activities that 
reflect what a central Illinois organizer calls "the 
homespun and wholesome values of the Heart- 
land." While the Midwest is, and has likely al- 
ways been, a region of often competing and con- 
flicting voices, the threshing reunion is in many 
ways a public performance of a grassroots and 
dominant Heartland middle-class ethos. 

One thread of this ethos is the public presen- 
tation of a regional and national patriotism per- 
haps made more siginificant in recent years by 
patterns of agricultural globalization and indus- 
trial concentration and a belief, shared by many 
midwestemers, that the rest of the country has 
lost touch with basic values and sentiments. The 
threshing reunion incorporates a great deal of 
red, white, and blue, both explicitly in public 
ceremony and implicitly in patterns of techno- 
logical display and performance. Machinery on 
display carries names of now-disappeared, but 
once well-known regional midwestern implement 
manufacturers (e.g., Aultman-Taylor of Ohio and 
Gaar-Scott of Indiana) or of the present-day 
giants of American farm industries (e.g., Case and 
John Deere). 

The heart of threshing reunions are, of course, 
the machines gathered together for public dis- 
play, admiration and demonstration. And the 
keepers of the heart are the former threshermen, 
farmers, and machinery buffs who collect, restore 
and maintain the machinery. A highlight of most 
events is the machinery parade, often held each 
day around noon, but sometimes occurring two 
or three time a day. The cavalcades provide 
viewers with a procession of the tractors, steam 
engines, wagons and other implements of agri- 
culture during the first half of the 20th century. 
Simultaneous commentary by announcers point 
out the year, model, and manufacturer of each 
machine as well as the name and hometown of 
the individual owners and restorers. 

The centerpieces of threshing reunions are the 
steam engines that dominated midwestern thresh- 
ing between 1885 and 1925. The romance of 




42nd REUNION 
Aug. 29 - Sept. 2, 1991 

# Over 100 Operating Steam Engines * Over 300 Anti- 
que Tractors # Over 800 Gas Engines * Electric Trolleys 

* Steam Trains * Antique Cars & Trucks * Large 
Working Craft Show * Antiques For Sale * Museum 
Exhibits * Camping * Food and Much, Much, More! 

INTERNATIONAL J.I. CASE HERITAGE 
FOUNDATION ANNUAL MEETING 



MIDWEST 

OLD 

THRESHERS 

Route I, 

Threshers Rd. 

Ml. Pleasant, Iowa 

52641 

(319) 385-8937 




steam is compounded by the machines' status as 
the first major manifestation of America's indus- 
trial revolution to appear in many farming re- 
gions. Further, the threshermen who purchased, 
used and maintained these devices were role 
models for adults and children during the transi- 
tion of farming from horse-power to horsepower. 
Threshing reunions thus expose a technological 
core of midwestern niral society through celebra- 
tion of mechanical power, inventiveness and 
knowledge. 

Displays of threshing machines and the en- 
gines used to run them represent more than a 
history of agricultural technology and mechanical 
inventiveness. For the midwestemers who used 
these devices, grain separators conjure memories 
of an annual niral social and economic institution 
— the threshing ring. Most niral neighborhoods 
developed cooperative groups called "rings' so 
that families could help one another with the 
labor and equipment needed to complete each 
member's threshing. This cooperation was neces- 
sary because machinery used to thresh before the 
adoption of pull-type combines was costly and 



FAMILY FARMING IN THE HEARTLAND 51 




Ihis crew is ready to thresh on the P.C Frok farm in ecu mil Iowa, 1900 Photo courtesj State Historical Society oi Iowa 



was employed for only one to three days a year 
on most farms. Steam threshing equipment was 
hard to repair compared with other implements 
oi the time, and it needed large crews <>l ten to 
twenty persons to bring the crop to the machine 
and handle the threshed gram and straw The 
work generally look place in July and August, 
and a rings 'run lasted between two and loin 
w eeks 

There were many variations in the way fami- 
lies formed and operated a ring Some groups 
cooperatively purchased a set of machinery, but 
most contracted the services of an itinerant 
thresherman, who provided the equipment and 
the crew to run it And was paid by the bushel. 
Groups also differed in how they divided the 
work, figured each family's labor contribution, 
and equalized differences in acreage and labor 
contributions among farmer-members. The social 
lite ol cooperative labor was rich and usually 
included a dinner ( at n< >< in > pn ivided by the Ik ist 
farmer's family and a post-harvest event, like a 
picnic or ice cream social, to mark a completed 
seasc in. 

\i threshing reunions, one ever present, 
though not highly visible, activity is what might 
he called "threshing talk" b\ older rural residents 
who participated in the last phases of threshing 
rings. People may talk threshing when they meet 
to admire engines and separators a\k\ watch 
working demonstrations, when the\ eat together 



as families away from the heat and noise of the 
machinery, and in other informal contexts. The 
dialogue is certainly not always on threshing 
itself, although one usually hears all sorts of sto- 
nes about threshing meals, job experiences, local 
threshermen, good and bad crops, practical jokes 
carried out by ring members, and accidents. A 
group ol men and women with shared experi- 
ence often exchange narratives (and often the 
same ones) year alter year, and at reunions one- 
can usually find a tew people with reputations as 
threshing raconteurs. 

Outsiders may view threshing talk as reminisc- 
ing Such exchanges do provide older residents 
an oral history forum, a means of repainting 
some <if the signposts that mark lite experience 
To families retired from active farming, threshing 
discussions may recall younger years, better 
health. And greater energy and activity. Today's 
discussions of threshing rings often become in- 
ventories ol rural neighborhoods, as tinnier 
neighbors try to recall the members of their rings 
and catch up on the news of area families. In this 
sense, the cooperative nature of threshing rings is 
a perfect vehicle lor shared discussion of people, 
places and experiences. The How of conversation 
is typically not chronological or bound by agri- 
cultural tasks or seasons; it is rather the associa- 
tions of people and places — all perhaps bound 
together In shared participation in an occupa- 
tional task — that provide the turns and cues for 



^2 I WIIIV I \RMING INTUI III \KI ! \\1 l 




A farmer harvests soybeans using <i modern combine in southwest Iowa Photo courtes) U S Department of Agriculture 



continued discussion. 

Threshing talk also frequently educates 
younger generations of rural residents, many of 
whom do not farm, about farming systems no 
longer practiced except among some Amish and 
Mennonite groups. Reunion visitors may see ma- 
chinery and exhibitions, but the technology is, 
after all, inanimate and demonstrations are re- 
creative in selective fashion. Embedded in thresh- 
ing talk are descriptions of farm tasks, activities 
and cultural landscapes, as well as verbal expres- 
sions, which often seem foreign to the current 
farming generation. Oral and visual history les- 
sons of neighborhood processes, machinery and 
occupational techniques provide the "rest ol the 
story" for equipment displays through specific 
recollections of local and regional uses ( >1 tech- 
nologies. They remind listeners of individual 
values, social goals, and a degree oi local control 
in mechanically complex occupational contexts. 

Threshing talk, however, is not simply didac- 
tic, for through them participants also engage in a 
debate ewer change and the impact of current 
agricultural structures on cherished cultural and 
social norms. Many farm residents do identify 



their occupation as "a way of life" or "expression 
of life." They recognize that the social life associ- 
ated with a community's way of farming ex- 
presses And develops dominant rural norms. And, 
importantly, those men and women who have 
lived through the stepped-up phases of mechani- 
cal — and then chemical and now biogenetic — 
revolutions often feel a sense of decline in the 
qualitv of rural life. Quality in this sense is not 
solely measured by crop yields or numbers of 
conveniences or quantities of household goods, 
but rather is tied to the perpetuation of subjective 
social values and traditional cultural practices. 
Perceptions of a declining quality of lite thus 
often portray a sense of loss or abandonment ot 
cultural and social norms. 

This perception is a complex idea that should 
not be confused with nostalgia <>r selective mem- 
ory. The result of giving up important cultural 
traditions can be felt like the loss of a relative or 
friend; both may include emotions ot denial, 
anger, or remorse. Years after their last bundles 
passed through grain separators, threshing ring 
members accept the past and the necessary cul- 
tural compromises they made to participate in 



I VV1MV I VRMING IN llll HEARTLAND 



S3 



technological change. People who talk threshing 
do not associate the "good old days" of the 
threshing ring with easy work or high profits. Nor 
do former participants advocate returning to 
horse fanning or to the technologies exhibited at 
these reunions. The modern, pull-type combine 
resi lived many farm needs, and most farmers 
(and threshermen) welcome its speed and effi- 
ciency. 

The change from threshing ring member to 
combine owner becomes more significant in the 
wider context of changes in rural life, from tech- 
nological developments to school and church 
consolidations and the decline in the farm popu- 
lation. For many older midwesterners, the thresh- 
ing ring is a reminder of a time when shared 
participation and local tradition were guideposts 
of social activity and expectations. In contrast, 
they perceive today's rural society as fragmented 
and unperson. if in part because technological 
evolutions have distanced families from the land, 
the lifestyle, And each other. Threshing attains 
special symbolic status in conceiving this duality, 
and contemporary discourse about cooperative 
work becomes a form of social criticism. 

According to the many midwesterners' world 
view, the present rural crisis is older than the 
past decade Kvents of the 1980s, however, dem- 
onstrated that the disruption of long-standing 
occupational patterns continues to have profound 
social and cultural impacts. Many midwesterners 
now feel that occupational "progress' is noi syn- 
onymous with social progress. And a sustainable 
agriculture may not in itself stem the disintegra- 
tion ot many small miclwestern communities. It is 
not simply thai "neighbors don't get together like 
they used to," noted Dan Jones of Oak Hill, 
< )hio, but that "people don't have any idea any- 
more about traditions in their own places, they've 
lost si i nuic h 

To talk threshing, then, is to point to a per- 
ceived historical time and regional place when 
the work itself included opportunities to maintain 
desired cultural and social norms. Threshing, and 
the wider discussions of the period that naturally 



stem from the subject, declare that the agricul- 
tural "way of life" has at times supported people's 
basic social needs and desired cultural goals. 
Threshing ring participation satisfied the labor 
needs of a complex technology, but in a way 
that also fulfilled shared perceptions and values 
grounded in local traditions and expectations. 
Older rural residents who congregate at threshing 
reunions and talk threshing tend to view current 
agricultural structures and transformations in rural 
life as being directed by outside influences, cor- 
porate manipulations, and decisions made with 
little sensitivity to or understanding of traditional 
rural patterns In contrast, threshing experiences 
suggest things familiar, comfortable and shared. 



/ Sanford Rikoon is Research Assistant Professor of 
Rural Sociology tit the / niversity of Wissouri-i olumbia 
In addition to Threshing in the Midwest, 1820-1940 
I 1988), he ;s coeditor of Idaho Folklife ( 1985) and 
Interpreting Local Culture and History ( 1991) 



Further Readings 

I km, R. Douglas l l )(S2. American Farm Toolsfrom 
Hand-Power to Steam-Power. Manhattan, Kansas: 
Sunflower University Piess 

Isern. Thomas I) 1990 Bull Threshers & Bindlestiffs-. 
Harvesting ami Threshing mi the North America)) 
Plains Lawrence 1 niversity of Kansas Press 

Jennings, Win.) ( lose 1979 Old Threshers at Thirty 
]0th Anniversary Picture History of the Midwest ( >hl 
Settlers and Threshers Association. 1950- 1')~ ( > 
Mount Pleasant, Iowa Midwest ( >lcl Settlers and 
Threshers Ass< iciation. 

Rikoon, J Sanford 1988 Threshing in the Midwest, 
1820-1940 A Study of Traditional Culture and 
Technological Change Bloomington Indiana Uni- 
\ctsh\ Press 

Wik, Reynold M 1953 Steam Power on the American 

/'arm Philadelphia University ot Pennsylvania 
Press 

1991 Seventeenth Annual Steam and das Show Direc- 
tory Lancaster Stemgas Publishing Company. 



~>4 FAMILY FARMING IN THl HEARTLAND 



FOREST, FIELD AND SEA: FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 

Forest, Field and Sea: 
Cultural Diversity in the 
Indonesian Archipelago 

Richard Kennedy 



On the Indonesian national emblem the 14th 
century Hindu-Javanese phrase, Bhinneka 
Tunggal Ika, "Unity in Diversity," appears on a 
banner clutched in the talons of an eagle. The 
phrase honors these sometimes contradictory- 
national goals, which seek to unify a complex 
nation and at the same time to respect the 
enormous cultural diversity of its 300 distinct 
ethnic groups living on more than 1,000 islands 
distributed across 3.000 miles of ocean. Indonesia 
is the fifth most populous country in the world 
with a population of over ISO million. 

Unity is an old concept in Indonesia and the 
motto, "Unity in Diversity," was taken from texts 
written under much earlier rulers. In the 9th cen- 
tury and later in the 1-tth, royal kingdoms se- 
cured vaiying degrees of political control over 
many of the western islands. And even before 
this dominion was achieved, established commer- 
cial routes linked the peoples of Borneo and the 
Moluccas with Java, China and India. 

Today, examples of successful programs of 
national unification are evident throughout the 
archipelago. A vast majority of the people now 
speak Bahasa Indonesia, the lingua franca of the 
nation, and schools, newspapers and TV are 
found in even the most remote corners ol the 
country. As a result, however, some of the di- 
verse cultural traditions of Indonesia have a frag- 
ile existence. 

Modern mass communication and extensive air 
travel have greatly increased the islands' internal 
unity and external participation in international 
trade, information exchange and politics. In fact, 
the classic Indonesian description ot their coun- 
try, tanah airkita, "our land and sea," perhaps 

Forest, Field and Sea: Folklife in Indonesia ispartofthe 
Festival of Indonesia l <><)<>- l'><>l and has been made 
possible with the support ofYayasan Nusantarajaya, 
Garuda Indonesia Airlines and American 

/'resident Lines 



now should be reformulated. This phrase, used 
to underscore the major role that water and the 
seas have played in traditional Indonesian life, 
has lost some of its authority in the face of the 
overwhelming influence of air waves, airplanes 
and air mail. However, if the skies have helped 
to unite the country, its distinctive lands and 
waters still encourage its diversity. 

Examples of cultural adaptations by people 
from three Indonesian provinces to vastly differ- 
ent environments can provide an introduction to 
Indonesia's great diversity — Kenyah and Mo- 
dang people living in the lowland and upland 
forests of East Kalimantan, Bugis and Makassa- 
rese maritime people living in coastal South Su- 
lawesi, and rural Javanese and Madurese agricul- 
turalists living in coastal and inland East Java. 
These communities also display some of the in- 
digenous skills and traditional knowledge that 
have developed in environments outside the 
urban centers and fertile river valleys of the Indo- 
nesian heartland. 

Forest: Upriver People of East Kalimantan 

Indonesia has one of the largest areas of tropi- 
cal rainforest in the world. From Sumatra to Kali- 
mantan to Irian Java the dense, biologically di- 
verse environment of the rainforest contains one 
of the most varied populations of flora species in 
the world. In one small five-acre area in Kaliman- 
tan, the Indonesian area of Borneo, for example, 
250 species of lowland trees have recently been 
identified. People who live in the Indonesian 
rainforests have a complex, systematic under- 
standing of this rich environment. 

The human population of Indonesia's rain- 
forests represents some of the archipelago's earli- 
est inhabitants. Descendants of the earliest Aus- 
tronesian peoples who arrived from the Asian 
mainland tens of thousands of years ago still live 
in the upland forests of Sumatra, Kalimantan and 
Sulawesi. Many of these people moved inland 

FOREST. FIELD AND SEA: FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 55 




Field Terraced fields such as these tire [omul throughout Sumatra, Java and Bali Elaborate irrigation 

systems were introduced into Java over 1,000 years ago enabling the island to support large 

populations Photo ty Hermine Dreyfuss 




* 



"^Bs- ; 



"W 1 



Forest (above) Dayak farmers clear and bum plots in the 
forest to pi, mi swidden fields for dry (unirrigated) rice 
tit It trillion Farmers plant these fields for several seasons and 
then more to (i nearby plot The swidden fields are usually 
left fallow for several years until they are fertile enough to be 
planted again Photo t»\ < ynthia Mackie 

Sea (right) This Mandar fisherman works on a rampong 
platfortn off the coast of South Sulawesi Fishermen sail to 
these platforms in the evening and sleep there to start work 
the next morning This platform floats in 6,000 fool waters 
Photo bv Charles Zerner 




56 l< iKI SI FIELD AND SEA FOl M II 1 I 



N IND( )\1 M \ 



PHILIPPINES 




PACIFIC 
OCEAN 



KALIMANTAN^ SULAWESI o 



^-\> <5\rC^ 



S" INDONESIAN 

JAVA-O / \3f>,QC§a c=>^°° 1 




EAST JAVA 



BALI 



<=^ 



o ^ 



INDIAN OCEAN 




after the subsequent migrations of other Aus- 
tronesian people from China and Southeast Asia, 
Hindus from the Indian subcontinent and Muslim 
traders from the Middle East. These relative new- 
comers settled in the coastal regions of the is- 
lands and established extensive trade networks. 
They maintained commercial contact with other 
Indonesian islands, India and China for over 
1,500 years. The earlier settlers retreated inland to 
the forests where they continued many of their 
beliefs and social practices well into the 20th 
century. Resisting both Hindu and Muslim con- 
version, many were later converted to Christianity 
by missionaries. 

Kalimantan has the largest population of de- 
scendants of these early Indonesian settlers. This 
island and especially its upland peoples have 
been a target of adventurous fantasy in the West- 
ern world in the 19th and 20th centuries. Often 
characterized as isolated, remote and even fore- 
boding, Kalimantan is, in fact, a complex society 
of settled traders and farmers, with remnants of a 
royal courtly life as well as numerous semi-no- 
madic tribes. 

Dayaks, the inland people of Kalimantan, have 
been relatively isolated from most of the major 
currents of regional history and the societies of 
coastal peoples. Furthermore, as semi-nomads 
the Dayak tribes have for centuries remained 
separated from each other by language and local 



tradition. In fact, the term "Dayak" is used, some- 
times pejoratively, by coastal people to refer to 
all upriver people and has limited currency. Ref- 
erence to individual ethnic groups such as Ken- 
yah, Modang and Iban is more appropriate, but 
Dayak is the only common term for the groups as 
a whole. 

\l< >st aspects of Dayak social life are closely 
associated with the forest. Previously, these up- 
river people were primarily hunters and swidden 
agriculturalists (preparing fields by clearing and 
burning) who established only temporary vil- 
lages. This nomadic lifestyle is changing rapidly. 
A vast majority of Dayak people are now settled 
farmers, and some have migrated to cities for 
work with logging and oil interests that have 
boomed in the past decade. However, even to- 
day, when mote and more communities have 
established permanent homes in villages, their 
culture remains rooted in the forest environment. 

Many Dayaks maintain a sharply honed 
knowledge of the fragile forest environment. 
Although they are dwindling in number, some 
remember nomadic life and cany with them a 
sophisticated knowledge of the flora and fauna in 
the vast tracts of uninhabited forest land through 
which they used to travel and hunt. The forest 
provided them with edible and medicinal plants 
as well as potent poisons for their arrows. 

Even within settled communities Dayaks re- 



FOREST. FIELD AND SEA FOI.KLIFE IN INI" INESIA 



57 



Schooners from throughout 
Indonesia line up ui Sunda 
Kelapa, the port for Jakarta 
Some of these ships, especially 
the mighty pinissi, lire still 
being built by South Sulawesi 
hi u n In tiU lets ft >r trade 
throughout the archipelago. 
Photo by ( )wen Franken 




main minim. illy dependent on outside resources. 
Rice, pigs and chickens arc raised locally; and 
timber for individual dwellings or longhouses, 
rattan and other fibers for weaving, bamboo for 
containers and — in the recent past — bark for 
cloth and feathers for decoration have usually 
been available near the village. 

The Dayak economy, however, has always 
required some contact with coastal and maritime 
people. Mainstays of the inland tribal culture 
such as salt, pottery containers and decorative 
beads were traded with Muslim and Chinese' 
merchants for rattan, birds nests and medicinal 
supplies. These commercial contacts have wid- 
ened in the past decades, and national education 
and medical systems have reduced some ol the 
isolatu in, 

Field: Rural Tradition in East Java 

Religion comes from the sea. adat (custom) 

( nine*, from the hills 

The coastal regions (pasisir) of the major Indo- 
nesian islands have historically been the meeting 
ground for indigenous And migrant peoples. Here 
traders and conquerors from China, India. Europe 
and Arab lands arrived and established local cen- 
ters of activity and power Some of these immi- 
grants brought sophisticated methods ol irrigation 
and elaborate systems of clams and water catch- 
ments with which they annually produced two 
and three crops of rice in the rich volcanic earth 
of Sumatra, lava and Bali. These yields provided 
resources to support an increasing population 



and a succession of powerful empires 

In the 10th century the eastern part of Java 
was settled by Hindus, ( )ne center of state power 
in Java remained in the eastern part of the island 
for the next 500 years, but it moved to central 
\a\a during the rise of Islam in the L5th century 
and continued there under the subsequent colo- 
nial rule of the Dutch, Since 1500, East Java — 
cspec [ally outside the northern port cities — has 
been less influenced by outside forces and the 
rise ol the Islamic slates to the west such as 
Surakarta, Jogyakarta and Cirebon. East Java is 
"deep Java," or quintessential Java, inheritor of 
some of the islands oldest traditions 

Not all of the land on Java has benefitted from 
the elaborate irrigation systems built over the past 
1,(100 years in the fertile river valleys of the is- 
land, < )n much of the land, subsistence crops 
have provided little surplus income for farmers. 
On these lands outside the fertile river valleys, 
life has been less affected by the social, eco- 
nomic And cultural changes brought by empire, 
commercial trade and outside cultural values In 
these marginal lands local custom is strong, even 
though Islam is the faith of 90% of all Indone- 
sians Pre-Islamic traditions. Hindu and pre- 
I lindu, remain pi >w erful 

Many older traditions can still be found in 
communities throughout East Java and rural 
Madura. For example, women in the village of 
Kerek still weave their own cloth, which they dye 
with natural colors. Worn as sarongs, these every- 
day cloths are sturdv enough for work in the 
fields. And across the strait in Sumanep on 



58 FORES1 FIELDANDSEA lolMIII IN INDONESIA 




Lumber pruritics income far workers in same upriver villages as well as in sawmills in larger cities of East Kalimantan 

But the rapid rate of deforestation of the land is altering the fragile ecology of the region tnnl destroying hundreds of 

plant species that have potential benefit to mankind Photo by Owen Franken 



Madura Island, Indian epic tales are still per- 
formed by the local topeng (mask) dance troupes. 
Kerek batik artists experiment with new dyes and 
storytellers in Sumanep include tales of contem- 
porary life in their repertoire, yet at the same 
time, both retain traditions that embody local 
values and tastes. 

Sea: Coastal People of South Sulawesi 

77>e sea unites and the lain/ divides. 

Maritime people from China, Southeast Asia 
and India settled Indonesia in waves. Many 
brought navigational skills and knowledge, with 
which they maintained commercial and social 
relationships with mainland Asia. Their skills not 
only tied island with island and the archipelago 
with the mainland but also enabled further explo- 
ration of Melanesia and Polynesia. Navigators 
who sailed from Indonesia settled most of the 
islands in the Pacific more than 3.000 years ago. 

The navigators and boatbuilders of South Su- 
lawesi still maintain some of these skills. Bugis, 
Makassarese and Mandar peoples of the Province 
of South Sulawesi continue to draw their income 
from the sea as fishermen, navigators and mer- 



chants. For nearly 300 years Bugis and Makassa- 
rese controlled much of the trade in Sulawesi and 
established commercial and even political power 
in ports throughout the archipelago and on the 
mainland of Southeast Asia. During most of the 
Dutch colonial presence in the country, the Bugis 
ruled a vast commercial and political empire from 
their capital at Bone, and the profits of this mari- 
time trade supported an elaborate court life. At 
one time, the royal rulers of the Hast Kalimantan 
kingdom of Kutei were merchant Bugis. In fact, 
coastal (pasisir) peoples throughout the archipel- 
ago often have closer social ties with one another 
than they have with neighboring lowland farmers 
or upland tribal groups. 

The tie between Kalimantan and Sulawesi 
continues into the 20th century as Sulawesi mer- 
chants and sailors maintain the trade in lumber, 
spices and grains. Twentieth century technology, 
however, has radically changed the boats which 
ply the sea routes between Indonesian islands. 
Motors have now supplanted sails, while com- 
passes and electronic monitoring have replaced 
navigation by seasonal winds, wave patterns and 
stars. Nevertheless, the mighty 200-ton pinissi 
sailing ship or the delicate sandeq outrigger can 



FOREST, FIELD AND SEA I I U.KLIFE IN INDONESIA 59 



still occasion. illy be seen in harbors throughout 
the archipelago, and the courtly dances of the 
royal cities of Gowa and Bone are still performed 
in a few villages of South Sulawesi. Like a Ken- 
yah tanner's intimate knowledge of East 
Kalimantan's rainforest or the tales of valor told 
by a Javanese storyteller, the Bugis' deep under- 
standing of Indonesian seas is an important link 
to the country's past and may provide critical 
cultural knowledge for its future identity 

Encouraging the diverse cultural traditions of 
peoples of the forests, fields and seas of Indone- 
sia is an important component of Indonesian 
national unity. This diversity is a source of 
strength and stability, 



Ric hard Kennedy is curator of the Indonesia /'/< gram 
lit the 1991 Festival <>/ . \meric iin Folklife He ret eived 
his I'h I > in South and Southeast . \sia sin, Ins <u the 
I niversity of i dlifornia. Berkeley, and is presently 
< hairfierson oj South Asia Irea Studies at the Foreign 
Seri'ii e ln-.il/uh' oj the I 5 Department of State 



Further Readings 

Allan, Jeremy and Kal Muller 1988 East Kalimantan 

Singapore limes Editions 

Ave, loop andjudi Achjadi, eds 1988 The Crafts oj 
Indonesia Singapore Times Editions 

Copeland, Marks and Mintari Soeharjo l l ».si The Indo- 
nesian Kitchen. New York Atheneum. 

Dalton, Bill 1988 Indonesia Handbook < hico, < alifor- 

111. 1 Mi 11 hi Publication 

Elliot, Inger McCabe. 1984 Batik Fabled Cloth of fava 
New York: Crown. 

Kayam, Umar, 1985 The Soul of Indonesia A Cultural 
Journey Baton Rouge: Louisiana state 1 niversit} 
Press 



Lindsay, Jennifer 1986, Javanese Gamelan. Traditional 
t Orchestra of Indonesia. Oxford: < )xford University 
I 'less 

Peacock, James. 1968, Rites of Modernization: Symbols 
iiiul Social Aspects of Indonesian Proletarian 
Drama Chicago University of Chicago Press. 

Ricklefs, M. C. 1981. A History of Modern Indonesia. 
Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 

Sutton. R. Anderson 1991. Traditions of Gamelan 
Music in Java Musical Pluralism and Regional 
Identity. Cambridge: Cambridge t niversity Press 

Volkman, Toby Alice and Ian Caldwell. 1990. Sulawesi 
Island Crossroads of Indonesia Lincolnwood, [Hi- 
nt >is: Passpi irt 

Waterson, Roxana 1990 The Living House An Anthro- 
pology of Architecture in Southeast Asia Singapore 
( >xford. 

Suggested Listening 

Bali Gamelan and Kecak Explorer Nonesuch 9 
79204-2 

Indonesian Popular Music Kroncong, Dangdut, and 
Langgamjawa Smithsonian Folkways SF40056 

Javanese Court Gamelan Explorer Nonesuch H72044. 

Music for Sale: Street Musicians of Yogyakarta. Hibiscus 
l'< HLC-91. 

Music /rum the Outskirts of Jakarta Gambang Kro- 
mong Smithsonian Folkways Recordings SF40057. 

Music of Bali Gamelan Senar Pegulingan from the 
\ 'illage ofKetewei I \ rk hi ird 7408 

Music of Indonesia, Vol 1&2 Smithsonian Folkways 
SF4537. 

Musit of Sulawesi Celebes Indonesia Smithsonian 
Fi ilkwaj s SF 1351. 

Street Music of Central Java Lyrichord 7310 

Street Music of Java Kiwi Pacific Records 1986, 

Songs Before Dawn Gandrung Banyuwangi Smith- 
sonian Folkwaj s SF 10055. 



60 EORES1 FIELD AND SEA lolMIII IN INDONESIA 



Longhouses of 
East Kalimantan 

Timothy C. Jessup 



Longhouses are large dwellings built by the 
Kenyan, Bahau, Modang, Lun Dayeh, and other 
peoples of the interior highlands of Hast Kaliman- 
tan and surrounding areas in central Borneo. 
Building a longhouse requires great expenditures 
of labor and materials as well as considerable 
skill in wood-working and engineering. Formerly 
found widely throughout East Kalimantan, long- 
houses are now built only in a few remote parts 
of the province; and only in the isolated Apo 
Kayan plateau are they still the predominant form 
of dwelling. (Longhouses of a modern type de- 
scribed below are still common in the Malaysian 
state of Sarawak in northwestern Borneo.) 

A longhouse (Kenyan umaq) ] is actually a row 
of contiguous family sections, each consisting of 
an enclosed apartment on one side of the house 
and an open veranda on the other. Both are cov- 
ered by one roof, with a dividing wall between 
apartment and veranda under a ridge-pole. Ex- 
tending outward from the front and rear of some 
sections are uncovered platforms used for drying 
rice, and some apartments have enclosed exten- 
sions at the rear to provide more interior space. 
Inside are sleeping compartments and places for 
cooking and eating, for storing household goods, 
and for various intimate social activities. 

The veranda sections joined end-to-end create 
a continuous gallery along the whole length of 
the house. The veranda is a place tor all manner 
of work and play and for meetings, rituals, and 
storytelling. It is also sometimes a sleeping place 
for visitors and bachelors and always tor the 
ubiquitous hunting dogs. 

House sections are owned by the households 
or families living in them, although traditionally a 



1 The terminology used in this article is in the Kenyah lan- 
guage unless indicated otherwise; most longhouse dwellers in 
East Kalimantan today are Kenyah. A terminal "q" indicates a 
glottal stop, rather like a "k" in the back of the throat. The 
Kayan word for house is uma, without a glottal slop 



local aristocrat or chief occupying the central 
section has certain rights that resemble "owner- 
ship" of the house as a whole. Houses are there- 
fore sometimes referred to as "the house of so- 
and-so," the aristocrat. For example, Umaq Pelen- 
tan means "Grandfather Lenjau's House" ( lenjau 
— "tiger," an aristocratic symbol and name). The 
central apartment of the aristocratic family is 
larger than its neighbors, and its roof is higher. 
Its exterior may be decorated with murals, 
wooden statuary, or roof ornaments. 

Each house is also given the name of a nearby 
geographical feature, such as UmaqMudung, 
"Hill House," or Umaq Laran, "House of the 
Laran Tree" (Dipterocarpus oblongifolius). Many 
communities occupy, or at one time occupied, a 
single longhouse, and perhaps for this reason the 
word umaq (or uma) can refer not only to a par- 
ticular house but also to an ethnic community. 
This association with ethnic identity points to the 
material and symbolic importance of longhouses 
in the lives of central Borneo people. 

Longhouses in the 19th century ranged up to 
about 400 meters (1,300 feet) in length, with as 
many as 120 apartments housing some 500 to 600 
inhabitants. The width of a house was 8 to 18 
meters (25 to 60 feet), and the height of the floor, 
raised above the ground on great hardwood 
piles, was generally 1 to 6 meters (3 to 20 feet). 
Some houses were raised even higher — as 
much as 12 meters (40 feet) — for defensive pur- 
poses, while others were built on fortified hill- 
tops. The roof rose another 8 meters (25 feet) or 
so above the floor and was supported on a mas- 
sive frame of columns and beams. The hewn 
planks of the floor were up to 12 meters (40 feet) 
long and a meter wide. 

Longhouses today are smaller than they were 
in the last century. Communities themselves are 
smaller, in large part because many have emi- 
grated to the lowlands where economic opportu- 
nities are greater, and because large populations 

FOREST. FIELD AND SEA FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 61 





^ u,;. ,*»v <■* 



1 tfV*t * 






" : ;J* 



>*^ H 




'//)(• /)/o.s7 distinctive feature of a traditional Dayak village is the longhouse This communal longhouse in the north- 
central highlands of Kalimantan accommodates more than a dozen families Each family lues in an individual 
apartment < lamin > with a kitchen extension off the back of the building 
Photo by Mady Villard, courtesj ol Bernard Sellato 



are no longer required for defensive purposes. 
Similarly, massive fortified houses are no longer 

needed, as they once were, to protect against 
marauding enemies. Changes in religion and 
social organization, which formerly bound 
people more closely to house-owning' aristo- 
crats, have also contributed to a reduction in the 
size of houses 

House Construction 

Houses are periodically built or rebuilt, usually 
when a village group migrates. Dining the l^th 
century, many Kayan and Kenyan communities 
moved as often as once a decade, although some 
remained in one spot for much longer Since the 
1930s, with the cessation of tribal warfare and 
increased government control over population 
movements, migration has become less frequent, 
and so houses are rebuilt less often. 

Pioneer migrants moving to previously unin- 
habited areas, sometimes far from their former 
villages, must build completely new houses. 
However, when houses are rebuilt on their ear- 
lier sites, or close to them, or on the sites of pre- 
vious longhouses, some parts of the old houses 
can often be used again. If necessary, the old 



parts can be transported overland or by river. 
Even heavy beams and columns can be lashed to 
canoes jnd floated downriver to be erected again 
at a new site 

bath family is responsible for preparing its 
own section of a longhouse, and all must contrib- 
ute to the duels central section. These prepara- 
tions include selecting the various kinds of timber 
and other materials needed, felling and dressing 
the timber, and transporting the finished pieces 
to the house site. All this can take several years, 
as the work is clone intermittently between agri- 
cultural seasons and may be delayed by various 
distractions, misfortunes, or bad omens. 

The major structural elements of a longhouse 
are the roof-columns, beams and floorboards. For 
its various components, builders select different 
species ot timber trees, palms (such as the moun- 
tain sago palms. Eugeissoiui species, whose 
leaves are sometimes used .is roofing material), 
and rattan (used to fasten the other parts). Bor- 
neo ironwood {Eusideroxylon zwagerii) is prized 
where durability is important, as in shingles and 
piles, while lighter wood with a clear, straight 
gram (such as that of Shorea species and other 
dipterocarps or the coniferous Podocarpus and 



62 



\< Mil s[ FIELD \NDSEA F< (LKLIFE IN IMx (NESIA 




The covered veranda of ibis Ihan longbouse shows the gallery where daily act in lies and periodic ceremonies take place 

Women weave and prepare food while children play nearby Individual family apartments open onto 

tins communal space Photo from Dorothy Pelzer Collection, courtesy 

National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution 



Agath is species) is preferred for making floor- 
boards. Tropical oaks (Litbocarpus and Quercus 
species) are used to make shingles wherever 
ironwood is not available, as in the Apo Kayan. 
Altogether a great many species are used f( >r 
building materials. A large amount of timber is 
required to build and maintain a house, and prin- 
cipally for this reason, villages are located wher- 
ever possible near stands of old-growth forest. 
Residents protect these forest reserves from over- 
exploitation or agricultural clearing. 

Once all the parts of the house have been 
prepared and assembled at the building site, the 
actual erection of the structure is remarkably 
swift. The columns and beams are raised into 
position by teams of men, then fastened with 
mortised joints and rattan lashings or. in some 
newer houses, with nails. After the framework of 
the house is in place, each family, working on its 
own section, lays down the floorboards and fas- 
tens the lighter wallboards and shingles in place. 

Until fairly recently, when saws began to be 
used, the wooden parts of a longhouse were 
worked entirely with a few simple tools, particu- 
larly axes and adzes. Kayan and Kenyah smiths 
forged these tools from locally obtained ores until 



around the turn of the century, when trade steel 
came into wide use. Axes and adzes are still used 
in house construction, but other tools such as 
planes, handsaws, and even power saws have 
been added. 

Architectural Variation 

Longhouses differ in construction technique, 
materials and architectural style. Sometimes these 
differences can be attributed to the ethnic identity 
of their builders, but more often they occur as a 
consequence of local conditions, such as vari- 
ations in terrain, the abundance or scarcity of 
different kinds of building materials and (in the 
past) vulnerability to or security from attack. 

In 1900 for example, the Dutch explorer. A. 
W. Nieuwenhuis, observed differences between 
longhouses on the upper Mahakam River and 
those in the Apo Kayan. Apo Kayan houses were 
built much closer to the ground: their remote 
location and their inhabitants' reputation as fierce 
warriors made them relatively safe from attack. 
Other architectural differences reflected the 
availability of building materials. Here is 
Nieuwenhuis' description of the Kenyah village 
of Tanah Putih in the Apo Kayan: 



FOREST, FIELD \ND SEA FOLKI.IFE IN INDONESIA 63 



All ten longhouses in the village were built 
in the usual Bahau [or k.iv.ml style, . . 
Inn they Mood i >n posts only one to two 
meters high and were made from different 
materials The reason was that the dense 
population had exhausted the high forest 
in the surrounding area, and the quantity 
of timber necessary for (he construction ol 
such a large village could lie obtained 
only from a great distance Most ol the 
people therefore had recourse to bamboo 
tor constructing floors, and to large tree- 
leaves arranged in the form ol mats for 
making walls and roots Only the houses 
ol the heads [i.e., aristocrats] were built 
completely of wood (Nieuwenhuis l'^ii- 
07, v. 2:368-369; m\ translation, assisted 
by Berthold Seibert i 

.Similar variations in the availability mi^\ use ol 
materials can still he seen among the various 
Kenyali communities in the Apo Kayan 

A major innovation in longhouse construction 
appeared in Sarawak in the l ( ) - ()s and spread to 
East Kalimantan in the 1980s. The new building 
technique uses relatively light-weight, sawn 
wooden members in place ol heavy, hand-hewn 
timbers (It is thus similar to the transition from 
framing w ith hea\ v timber t< > the use < it the light 
"balloon frame" in the United States during the 
19th century) This change was made possible In 
the introduction <>l power saws, which le( build- 
ers i ui wood into smaller, more easih trans- 
ported pieces in tar less time than was spent 
preparing timber b\ hand. The new houses also 
incorporate other modifications in design such as 
increased ventilation and semi-detached kitchens 
(to protect against the spread ol fire) These 
changes were initially made at the behest ol gov- 
ernment oil Rials hut have since gained popular- 
ity 

Conclusion 

\ Davak longhouse shelters a whole commu- 
nis within a single structure They are buill with 



locally available materials by skilled craftsmen, 
who adapt form and construction techniques to 
the Kalimantan environment and to changing 
historical conditions. This adaptability can be 
seen in the architectural variety of houses, past 
and present, and in the structural innovations ol 
recent years. 

Nevertheless, it is sad (especially to one ol 
Romantic temperament) to see the disappearance 
of the last old In 'uses, with their massive hand- 
hewn timbers, their quaintly crooked lines, and 
then dark and homely smoke-filled interiors 
Even more distressing is the complete abandon- 
ment of longhouses that has occurred, often 
through force of social pressures, in many parts 
ol Kalimantan. In this light, the continuing inno- 
vation in longhouse construction should he wel- 
comed as a wa\ ol combining economic devel- 
opment i which the people universally want) with 
cultural continuity and the spirit of community. 



Timothy < /esstip is ii Ph I > candidate in the Human 
Ecology Program <n Rutgers, I nicersity lie is presently 
working/or World Wide Fund for Mature Indonesia <>n 
long-term research and policy planning in East 
Kalimantan 



< i'tations and Further Readings 

Hose < .mil \\ McDougall 1912 Ti.w Pagan Tribes of 
Borneo ( 2 vols > London Macmillan. 

lessup. I i 1990 House-building, Mobility, and 
Architectural Variation in Central Borneo Paper 
presented at the First Extraordinary Session i>l the 
Borneo Research Council in Kuching Sarawak, a- c ) 
August To he published in the Borneo Research 
Bulletin 

, and A P Vayda 1988 Dayaks and 



Forests of Interior Borneo Expedition (special issue 
..ii Borneo) 30( 1 i 5-17. 

Kelbling. S 1983 Longhouse at the Balu> River Sara 
teak Museum Journal 32 133-158 

Nieuwenhuis, \ \\ 1904-07 Querditrcb Borneo (2 
vols ) I eiden Brill, 



(it i . i;i ■ I line v.i .sea KOI M n I l\ IN1X >M M \ 



Environmental Knowledge 

and Biological Diversity 

in East Kalimantan 



Herwasono Soedjito 



Longhouses, the characteristic dwelling of 
many Dayak groups, require a great many plant 
species for building materials. To sustain their 
supply of materials, Dayaks have always pro- 
tected their forests. Today we recognize the need 
for more forest cover for the earth, which may 
die without it. Indeed, the need for forests and, 
more importantly, for biological diversity is now 
becoming obvious. This diversity is important for 
people as well as nature. In the past, when Day- 
aks could still practice their traditional way of 
life, they helped maintain biological diversity. 

Dayaks live interdependently and harmoni- 
ously with tropical rainforests. But we, who arro- 
gantly call ourselves modern people from devel- 
oping or already developed countries, have little 
regard for or appreciation of these traditional 
people. We harvest tropical wood only for our 
own economic benefit and thereby push the 
Dayaks to abandon their culture. They often can- 
not practice their culture because of moderniza- 
tion and because there is no forest left. 

Fortunately, on this rare occasion organized by 
the Smithsonian Institution and Festival of Indo- 
nesia 1990-1991 Committee, we will be able to 
communicate directly with some of the Dayaks 
from East Kalimantan. From this communication, 
there is a chance for mutual understanding and a 
hope for mutual appreciation. Dayaks will pre- 
sent aspects of their valuable culture that still 
have relevance and importance for contemporary 
life. In this short essay I will use ethnobotany — 
the study of native peoples' systematic knowl- 
edge of the plant world — to illustrate how 
building longhouses, producing food, curing the 
sick, and making the tools of everyday life em- 
body Dayak skills for exploiting and conserving 
the resources of their environment. There is con- 
siderable variation in architectural styles and 



building skills, as Tim Jessup discusses elsewhere 
in this collection; but Dayaks' skill and knowl- 
edge of selecting building materials from natural 
resources is uniformly exceptional. 

Botany of Longhouses 

As noted, a great many plant species are used 
for building a longhouse. For example, in the 
construction of one longhouse in the Apo Kayan 
plateau of East Kalimantan, 48 different plant 
species have been identified. These building 
materials — plants of varying ages, wild and 
cultivated, from recently tilled and fallow fields 
— are collected from the surrounding environ- 
ment, a living mosaic composed of rainforest, 
fields and village. To make various parts of a 
house, villagers select species of plants ranging 
from herbs, vines, rattan, palms and shrubs to big 
trees. 

Strong hardwood, prized for its durability, is 
used for making piles and shingles. The best 
wood for these purposes is Borneo ironwood 
(Eusideroocylon zwagerii), which is locally called 
ulin. Sixteen species of large trees have been 
identified that are used for the piles alone.' And 
some tree species are used for making shingles 
alone.- Not all parts of a tree can be made into 
shingles, only those with straight fibers that allow 
the wood to be split in thin sections. Not all long- 
house roofs are made of shingles. Some villages 
use leaves of the trees Eugeissona ittilis and 



'Among these are Aglaia ganggo, Diplerocaipus 
kunstlerri, Dipterocarpus spp , Elaeocarpus spp., Eugenui spp 
Hopea dryobalanoides, Ochanostachys amentacea, Ocbrosia 
spp., Podocatpus iwrufolius, Sborea spp., Tiisttinui 
whitianum, and Vatica cupularis 

2 Among iIk-il- are Castanopsis spp , Ficus concosiata, 
Lansium domesticum, Litbocarpus spp . Quercus argentata, 
and Shores spp. 



FOREST, FIELD AND SEA: FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 



65 




Kenyah women pound bark to extrai t dye for 
decorating woven baskets Photo by ( ynthia Mai kie 



Phacelophrynium maximum for their roofs. 

Lighter wood with a clear and straight grain is 
preferred for making floorboards. 1 A good floor 
also should be properly resonant, for it is usually 
used as a musical instrument played to accom- 
pany dances, especially the datan julut dance. In 
their performances, dancers stamp on the floor 
creating loud and beautiful sounds. A longhouse 
floor capable of producing the most beautiful 
sounds is usually preferred for important ceremo- 
nies The same tree species used for the floors is 
also used for making planks that separate long- 
house apartments, or lamin. 

The beams of the middle lamin that belongs 
to the "owner' ol the house are usually longer 
and thicker than others. Hut the tree species is no 
different. The main criteria lor selecting beams 
are straightness and length.' Rafters are made of 
limbers from the' same species used lor beams. 
but the most preferred is Eugenia polyantha. 

Roof laths, which support the shingles, are 



Vmong these are Agatbis borneensis, Ciimamomum sp., 
Litboccitpus spp.. Perseci rimosa, Poclocarpus imbricatm 
PottiK'urpits neriifoliiis. Polyosma intergrifalia, Schima 
utilii bit, and Shorea spp 

pedes used for beams include Dysoxylum 
bvxatuinim, EUiem arpus glaber, Elteriospermum tapos, 

■ ': banostachys amantacea, Ocbrosia sp., Persea 
and Sc< <rodot atpus borneensis 



made ol the long, straight but small stems i ap- 
proximately 4 cm in diameter) ol a variety of 
spec ies. There is apparently no preference as to 
the species used. Villagers usually collect the 
sapling stage of main canopy species (the tallest 
rainforest trees) or understory species (less tall). 
What they look for is straightness and durability. 
Rattan rather than nails is used to fasten parts 
of the building together. A large number of rattan 
strips are used to fasten shingles to the roof laths. 
There are dozens of rattan species used to lash 
joints. 1 Do you know that rattan is in the same- 
family with the coconut palm ( Cocos nucifera), 
and that a single stem of one kind of rattan (Ca- 
lamus caesius) can reach more than 100 meters 
long'' People should learn more about the rich 
diversity of species in tropical rainforests. 

Food Plants 

'The Dayak farmers carefully maintain a diver- 
sity of species in their fields as well as in their 
gardens close to home. Traditional tropical agric- 
ulturalists diversify their production to make their 
food supply as secure as possible In one village 
of Long Sungai Barang, for example, farmers use 
.it least ISO species of food plants, including 67 
wild species. In their home gardens alone, there 
were 1 species that belong to 70 genera and 38 
families All of the specimens have been identi- 
fied, recorded and preserved in the Herbarium 
Bogoriense, in the city of Bogor, West Java. Sur- 
prisingly, for one species oi rice ( Oriza siitirci) 
alone, villagers have more than 25 local varieties, 
which are specialized for certain soil conditions 
such as wet soil, flat land, dry soil in slopes, 
black soil, etc. 

< ienetk diversity is very important for future 
agricultural development. Many breeders stress 
that we need more gene pools available because 
continuous cropping of rice can lead to serious 
problems like pest epidemics. "This problem in 
food supply may come soon because, as Har- 
grove, el al ( 1988) found, a large number of 
improved rice varieties carp- similar cytoplasm. If 
we are not careful to preserve the germplasm 
resources that are still in the hands of traditional 
farmers, we may not be able to rebuild high yield 
crops, should disease or other tonus ol pestilence 
strike. 

The l>a\ak environment might have wild spe- 
cies of crops that will be important in the future. 
For example, the shoot of the Diplazium esculen- 
tum fern (of the family Polypodiaceae) is now 



Si ime ol them are < alamus spp . < emtorobus concolor and 
Kartbalsici et binometra 



iKIsi FIELD AND SEA FOLKLIF1 IN INDONESIA 



harvested from a wild habitat 
but in the future may produce 
a vegetable as valuable as as- 
paragus. And Seta ria palm {fo- 
lia, a species of grass 
(Poaceae), yields a bigger 
edible shoot in formerly culti- 
vated fields than in wild habi- 
tats. Its evolution might be 
unintentionally affected by 
human agriculture. As Jackson 
(1980) notes, the ancestors of 
our current crops may well 
have been "camp followers," 
colonizers of the disturbed 
ground around human habita- 
tion. Varieties of habitat and 
successive forest stages — not 
just jungles or primary forests 
— yield valuable species for 
agriculture as well as for 
medicine and crafts. This 
shows the importance of cul- 
tural practices of Dayaks and 
other forest dwellers to the 
evolution and maintenance oi 
biological diversity. 

Medicinal Plants 

Traditional medicine de- 
rived from plants still plays an 
important role in curing dis- 
eases and wounds. In Long 
Sungai Barang village, 37 spe- 
cies, 33 genera and 26 families 
of plants that have medicinal 
value have been recorded. 1 ' 
These species grow in a vari- 
ety of habitats: in the home 
garden, in the fields, in very 
young secondary forests in 
primary forests and on riverbanks. At present, 
many institutes and universities are hunting me- 
dicinal plants in tropical forests throughout the 
world that might contain a curing material tor 
cancer and AIDS. 

Plants for Crafts 

Almost all utensils and handicrafts used by 
Dayaks are made from material available in the 
area. There have been at least 96 species identi- 
fied that belong to 74 genera and 40 families. 



"Species that were considered especially powerful were 
Callicarpa longifoliaf. subglabrata, Cassia alata, Fagraea 
mcemosa, Kadsura scandens and Lindera polyantha. 




These Aoheng women teho lire several days upriverfrom the coastal city oj 

Samarinda, Hast Kalimantan, are reviving the art of weaving local fibers <>/ 

pineapple and orchid, Abandoned after World War II this weaving tradition 

teas retired in the early l>),sos to produce materials for sale to 

outside markets Photo by Bernard Sellato 



This is a very great biological diversity. They use 
almost all the parts of the plants: stems, leaves, 
bark, sap, fruit, branches, twigs and seeds. These 
species arc also found in an array of habitats — 
home gardens, fields, secondary and primary 
forests. Habitat diversity is very important in sus- 
taining a supply of materials for the Dayaks' 
handicrafts, some of which attain high artistic 
value. 

Biosphere Reserve 

To conclude this short article, it is obvious that 
the biological and ecological diversity in Dayak 
villages, especially in the Apo Kayan, is very 
high. This area embraces a great many species 



FOREST, FIELD AND si A I o| KLIFE IN INDONESIA 67 



useful for food, medicines, crafts, building con- 
struction and aesthetic uses. It is impossible to 
separate this useful diversity from the fact that 
Apo Kayan fanners practice shifting cultivation, 
carefully exploit the mountainous forest environ- 
ment, and have cultures that enable them to live 
harmoniously with nature. Accordingly, it is es- 
sential to save this area from destructive eco- 
nomic development. This does not mean that 
local people should live unchanged or that farm- 
ers should be prevented from improving the 
quality of their lives. The welfare of indigenous 
peoples, their role in the environment, and natu- 
ral conservation are combined in a new approach 
to conservation known as the "biosphere re- 
serve." 

The biosphere reserve concept is more realis- 
tic than earlier approaches that exclude humans, 
since it includes local populations as key con- 
tributors to and beneficiaries of the environ- 
mental process (Tangley 198S). Jackson ( 1980), 
for example, states that the most efficient storage 
of genetic variations is in the living plants, while 
seed storage m a laboratory is expensive and has 
difficult requirements. Therefore, many more 
species sanctuaries must be established through- 
out the world (Hill 1983). Indeed, it is time to 
recognize traditional farmers' active role in ge- 
netic resource conservation (Altieri, et al. L987). 
Furthermore, when not disturbed by economic or 
political forces, farmers' modes of production 
generally preserve rather than destroy natural 
resources. 

Finally, the most appropriate way to develop 
the Apo Kayan might be through the establish- 
ment of a biosphere reserve to conserve ex 
amples of the world's characteristic ecosystems, 
"landscapes for learning" about both natural and 
locally managed ecosystems. The Apo Kayan 
already achieves one of the goals of a biosphere 



reserve, which is to provide models for sustain- 
able resource use. The Kayan needs the legiti- 
mate status of biosphere reserve in order to pro- 
tect the area from destaictive powers before the 
beauty and value of its ecological diversity are 
gone. 



Herwasono Soedjito is senior ecologist at Herbarium 
Bogoriense. The < enter for Research and Development 
in Biology. Indonesian Institute of Sciences hie received 
his 1/ Si and Ph l> in Human Ecology and Forest 
Ecology from Rutgers University. New Brunswick. Netv 
terse) 

< itations and Further Readings 

Altieri, M. A.. M. K Anderson and I. C Merrick L987 
Peasant Agriculture and the Conservation of Crop 
and Wild Plant Resources ( onservation Biology 
II 1 1 49-58 

Ave, J B. and V. T. King. L986 The People of the Weep- 
ing Forest Tradition and Change in Borneo Leiden 
Natii inal Museum of Ethm >li >g) 

Hargrove, T K.\ I Cabanilla and W Coffman 1988. 
Twenty Years ol Rue Breeding BioScience 
381 10):675-681. 

Hill. I. I) L983 SeedsofHope The Ecologist 
13(5) 175-178 

[ackson, W 1980 New Roots for Agriculture San Fran- 
^ i.so) Friends of the Faith 

Kartawinata, KM Soedjito, T Jessup, A P. Vayda, 
and ( I I' Colter 1984. The Impact of Develop- 
ment on Interactions Between People and Forests in 
East Kalimantan A Comparison ol I wo Areas of 
Kenyah Dayak Settlement. The Environmentalist i. 
Supplement No. 7:87-95 

Tangley, 1. 1988. A New Era tor Biosphere Reserves. 
BioScience 38(3):1 18-155 

Whitmore, T C. 1984 Tropical Rain Forests of the Far 
East 2d ed Oxford Clarendon Press 



68 i 



HELD AND SEA FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 



Craft and Performance 
in Rural East Java 

Dede Oetomo 



The rich earth of the volcanic islands of Java 
and Madura has nurtured its people for millennia: 
Sundanese in western Java, Javanese in central 
and eastern Java, and Madurese on Madura Island 
and the northeastern coastal areas of Java. Agri- 
culture directly supports nearly three-quarters of 
the more than 32 million inhabitants of Fast Java, 
a province that consists of the eastern third of 
Java, all of Madura and a few smaller islands. The 
vast majority of these rural villagers are landless 
farm workers or peasants with little land. They 
mostly cultivate rice but also grow cash crops in- 
cluding tobacco, cotton, sugarcane, nuts and 
various fruits. 

For the last 300 years, the peoples of East Java 
have generally contrasted their way of life with 
that of the Javanese of Central Java, whose socie- 
ties have been dominated by the kingdoms ol 
Mataram. The influ- 
ence of this imperial 
past can be seen in 
the distinctions Indo- 
nesians frequently 
draw between a 
courtly, refined style 
marked by politeness 
and indirection ( ha- 
lus) and a rural, earthy 
style marked by quick 
speech and frankness 
(kasar). The people 

living in and around the valleys of the great East 
Java rivers, the Branta and the Solo, in the so- 
called Mancanegari, or "outer realm," of the 
central kingdom, are said to be more like the 
Central Javanese in their refined style of speech 
and behavior. On the other hand, those living in 
the arid limestone regions of the north coast, in 
the capital city of Surabaya, on the island of 
Madura, and in the eastern region of Java are said 
to talk faster and more frankly. 

The people of East Java have developed a 
great variety of art forms. With no royal courts in 



Jakarta 




JAVA 



the Province after the fall of Mojopahit Dynasty 
in the 16th century, the majority of the arts re- 
mained those of the common people ( wung 
cilik). In the towns and cities, the elite (priyayt) 
continue to be connoisseurs of the high arts of 
the neighboring courts, such as shadow puppet 
(tvayang) plays and their derivatives. These 
forms are also enjoyed by common people but 
mostly by those living in what was the "outer 
realm" of the Central Javanese courts. 

Performers from four artistic traditions have 
come from East Java to the Festival of American 
Folklife this year. The traditions represented are: 
peasant batik from Tuban on the north coast, 
which uses hand-woven cotton; masked dance- 
drama (topeng dhlang) of Madura, which is based 
on stories from the Indian epics, Mahabharata 
and Ramayana; gandrung social dance of 

Banyuwangi; and 
the music and dance 
performance known 
as reyog from the re- 
gion of Ponorogo 
on the western side 
of the Province. To 
illustrate the rela- 
tionship between 
mral life and art 
forms, two of these, 
the batik of Kerek 
and reyog of Pono- 
rogo, both symbols of the continuity of the 
Province's rural heritage, are examined below. 

The Peasant Batik of Kerek 

To the north of the limestone hills in north- 
eastern Java lie dozens of arid and rather bleak 
rural districts. Kerek, a subdistrict 30 km north- 
west of the coastal town of Tuban, is typical of 
the region except for the type of batik produced 
in several local villages. 

Approaching Kerek by way of the paved road 
leading into the district, one notices homespun 



Kerek 

— I — . 



MADURA 



d^ 



1 Ponorogo 



-Banyuwangi 



EAST JAVA 



:4P 



FOREST. FIELD AND SEA FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 



69 




At a weekly market, women in Tuban Regent \> of East Java inspect cot 

ion f<>r batik Although some of the women wear machine-made 

sarongs they all use a selendang < shawl worn over the shoulder) 

of local handmade batik material to carry their 

purchases Photo In Kin-- I leringa 



batik sarongs worn by women working in the 
fields or walking along the road carrying woven 
bamboo baskets supported by .\n equally coarse 
batik selendang (a shawl-like sling worn over 
one shoulder). Perhaps nowhere else in Indone- 
sia can one find this kind of batik, dyed on 
homespun fabric with bold, brightly-colored live- 
hand buds, flowers and other more abstract de- 
signs. Batik crafted elsewhere in Java is worked 
on fine, factory-produced cotton or even syn- 
thetic material and tends to use more muted col- 
ors. 

Remarkably, some women of a single house- 
hold, as in the past, still grow the cotton, spin it 
into yarn, weave yarn into cloth, make dyes from 
plants, and design and dye the cloth into batik. 
Natural dyes such as indigo for blue and soga, 
another vegetable dye for brown, remain the 
primary colors used in the process. They work 



on each piece collectively, in be- 
tween planting, harvesting and other 
tasks of subsistence farming, the 
major source of livelihood in the 
community. Today the batik is still 
valued for being sturdy enough to 
wear in the fields, and some prized 
pieces are handed down as cher- 
ished heirlooms. 

In the past, a piece of batik was 
never s< )ld as a commodity; it was 
worn by a woman of the household 
in which it was made. This has been 
gradually changing over the past five 
or six decades. Today people often 
take new or used batiks to sell on 
market days at the marketplace in 
Kerek. Local people have become 
aware of the value outsiders place 
on the material. 

batik making has recently become- 
part of a rural development scheme, 
for the past decade the Ministry of 
Industries office in Tuban, pursuing 
a policy of promoting local small- 
scale industries within a framework 
ol economic development, has tried 
to assist women of Kerek in trans- 
forming batik crafting into a truly 
income-generating industry. Officials 
in the Ministry would like the Tuban 
region to become known for a 
unique craft. The new uses created 
lor Kerek s batik include tablecloths, 
pillowcases, modern dresses, skirts, 
vests, coats and even blazers. 
( )nc labor-saving idea that has 
been introduced into Kerek's batik industry is the 
use of the commercial dye naphthol. Though 
some traditionalists, both in Kerek and in the 
outside world, still prefer natural dyes, which 
they believe last much longer, most batik crafts- 
women now prefer to buy batik dyes rather than 
make natural dyes themselves. These new batik 
elves include non-traditional colors such as yel- 
low, green and purple. 'I'he availability of these 
dyes has changed the batik tradition of Kerek. 
but even some younger women who enjoy ex- 
perimenting with these new colors continue to 
use the natural dyes side by side with commer- 
cial c< >li irs. 

Reyog Ponorogo 

The Regency of Ponorogo is located in the 
Madiun river valley near the border of Central 
Java. It has been known for hundreds of years for 



~0 FORES'I HELD AND SEA: FOLKLIFF. IN INDONESIA 




Above: Young men from the village near Salatiga in 
Central Java perform a hobby-horse dance with a lion 
figure similar to the reyog tradition in East Java. 

Photo by Rachel Cooper 

Right: The figure of the reyog passes through the town 
ofPonorogo in East Jura The procession, which 
includes musicians, acrobats and clowns, re-enacts a 
battle between the tiger and the forces of a king. 
Photo by sal Murgiyanto 



its men (and women) of prowess, the tvetrok. In 
this region, some of which was part of the "outer 
realm" of the kingdom of Mataram hut was often 
difficult to rule, warok have until very recently- 
been economically, politically and magically 
powerful local personages surrounded by bands 
of youths in a patron-client relationship, Warok 
and their followers, warokan and gemblok, per- 
form reyog — a public dance drama — as a dis- 
play of their power. 

In any group of reyog performers, the warok 
.tiki warokan can easily be identified as the 
older, more mature and fierce looking men 
dressed in black, loose-fitting three-quarter length 
trousers and collarless shirts. They wear a belt of 
twisted cotton yarn and coarse leather slippers. A 
number of them play musical instruments associ- 
ated with the reyog performance: shawm (slom- 
pret), metal kettles (.kenong), suspended gongs 
(kemput), small drum (tipung\), very large drum 




(kendhang Ponorogo) and several three-tube 
bamboo angklung. One or two warok or 
warokan carry the heavy tiger/lion mask and 
headdress that is the centerpiece of the reyog 
pageant and is decorated with hundreds of pea- 
cock feathers. Other warok and warokantake 
different roles in the play — clowns, nobles, etc. 
The gemblak, junior members of the troupe 

FOREST, FIELD AND SEA FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 71 



who enter into patron-client relationships with 
particular warok and warokan, perform the 
hobby-horse (jaran kepang or jathilari) dance. 
They are dressed in a more refined way, in imita- 
tion of the courtly dress of Central Javanese per- 
formers in wayangoi kethopak plays. In the past 
these hobby-horse performers were often trance 
dancers. Nowadays the dancers sometimes cross- 
dress and — especially in the big cities outside 
Ponorogo where reyog troupes have also formed 
themselves — they may even be young girls who 
are not gemblak. In these big-city troupes men 
dress in the traditional black attire, but they do 
not seem to practice the traditional warok 
warokan lifestyle, a change lamented by purists 
in Pone in >g< > 

In his quest for power, a person becomes a 
warokhy following its traditional lifestyle, refrain- 
ing from heterosexual relationships. In most 
cases this is a man who has accumulated wealth 
in agricultural land and livestock and feels ready 
to become a patron of less wealthy members of 
his village and surrounding communities. A few 
cases of female warok have been recorded, 
though these do not seem to exist today. 

Warok arrange patron-client relationships with 
youths, the gemblak of the troupe. The rights and 
duties of this alliance, like those of a marriage, 
include economic and sexual aspects. The warok 
employs a matchmaker to reach an agreement 
with the parents of a particular youth. Warok 
provide the parents with cows, water buffaloes, 
or the use of a plot of land. A warok's power is 
proportional to the number of gemblak he can 
keep. When a youth comes of age, his warok- 
patron must arrange and pay for his marriage. A 
few gemblak do become warok, but this is rare. 

In addition to independently wealthy warok, 
there have also been bands of unmarried young 
men who search for power, either in the service 
of a warokov not. These men are the warokan 
and normally share resources to keep a gemblak 
communally. 

A reyog troupe did not originally perform for 
money or on a special occasion. Performances 
were primarily spectacular displays of prowess t< > 



villagers. Performances nowadays, especially in 
urban areas, are focused on the acrobatics of 
lifting the heavy tiger/lion and peacock feather 
headdress and on the antics of the clowns. Some 
of these performances are clone for a fee. 

Reyog performances may last several hours 
and are usually performed during the day. They 
typically involve elaborate costumes, music and a 
lengthy procession of dancers and actors. There 
never seems to have been a set number of epi- 
sodes m a reyog performance. Particular episodes 
in the performance are drawn from the following 
story. King Klanasewandana of Bantarangin trav- 
eled to the town of Kedhiri to ask for the prin- 
cess in marriage. He was accompanied by 144 
knights under the command of Hujangganong. In 
the jungle, the tiger Rajawana (the king of the 
woods) tried to devour the horses. Bujangganong 
fought the tiger but could not defeat him. The 
king asked help from the hermit Kyai Gunaresa. 
After the hermit rendered the tiger harmless, the 
king gave a feast that was graced by gamelan 
music and dancing, including a dance by a 
woman named Wayang Jopre and the clown 
Patrajaya. A contemporary performance of reyog 
retells this story in the earthy style of rural East 
Java and provides the viewer with a glance into a 
world of heroes, supernatural powers and trance. 

I >r Dede ( ietomo is a le< turer at the School of Sot ial 
Si ieiit es, \irlangga I diversity, Surabaya, East Java 

Further Readings 

Geertz, Clifford 1976. The Religion of Java Chicago: 
University of Chicago. 

Heringa, Kens 1989 Dye Process and Life Sequence: 
The Coloring of Textiles in an East Javanese Village. 
In To Speak with < loth: Studies in Indonesian Tex- 
tiles, ed Mattiebelle Gittinger. Los Angeles Museum 
of Cultural History, LI.C.L.A. 

Karii inn. Margaret. 1976. Performance, Musk, and 
Meaning in reyog Ponorogo Indonesia 11 (< )cto- 
ber) 85-130, 

Wolbers, Paul A 1986 Gandrung and Angklung from 
Banyuwangi: Remnants of a Past Shared with Bali. 
Asian Music 18 ( 1 1:71-90 



'1 



FORES! FIELDANDSEA FOLKLIFE IN INDom si V 



Boatbuilding Myth and 
Ritual in South Sulawesi 

Mukhlis and Darmawan M. Rahman 



For many centuries before European colonial 
powers came to Indonesia, trade was carried on 
throughout the archipelago. Makassarese and 
Buginese islanders traveled by sea throughout 
Southeast Asia and even to China. Only after the 
Portuguese and Dutch arrived in the late 16th 
century was the sea trade lost to European fleets, 
which forced local cultures to submit to the mo- 
nopoly of the Dutch East India Company. Local 
boatbuilding traditions adapted to the arrival of 
Europeans, and they have continued to evolve to 
this day. For centuries now, particular ethnic- 
groups have been building boats of many sizes 
and sailing them in inter-island and interconti- 
nental trade. 

C. C. Macknight (1979) writes that there are 
four principal boatbuilding traditions in Indone- 
sia. The first is found among coastal peoples 
living in Sumatra and on the west and south 
coasts of the Malay peninsula. A second 
boatbuilding tradition is found in the port towns 
and fishing villages of the north coast of Central 
Java, in the port of Gresik in East Java and on the 
island of Madura. The third and fourth traditions 
are found in the eastern part of the Indonesian 
archipelago: the South Sulawesi tradition and the 
tradition of boatbuilding found in Moluccas, Aru 
islands, and southern Philippines. In this article 
we examine the South Sulawesi tradition of 
boatbuilding. 

South Sulawesi boatbuilding is still connected 
in the minds of many people to the following 
myth of origin called Sawerigacling. It is told in 
the Buginese legend of I Lagaligo that one day 
Sawerigacling, a prince of Luwu, a kingdom in 
South Sulawesi, fell in love with a beautiful girl. 
We Tenri Abeng. The two lovers were to be mar- 
ried, but the young girl learned that she was 
really Sawerigading's twin sister. Seeking a way 
out, We Tenri Abeng suggested that her twin 
look for another girl who resembled her — We 
Cudai, a princess of a neighboring kingdom to 
the southwest. 



We Tenri Abeng had given a very difficult task 
to Sawerigading, because it would take a large- 
boat and a long time to sail to We Cudai's king- 
dom. We Tenri Abeng showed Sawerigading a 
big tree called Walenrang growing in the forest. 
A boat for the journey could be made from this 
tree. Sawerigading resolved to follow his twin's 
suggestion. But although he tried for days to cut 
down the Walenrang tree he was not successful. 
In despair Sawerigading went to his grandfather, 
La Toge Langi Batara Gum, who lived in heaven. 
He told him what had happened. After hearing 
the story, La Toge Langi Batara Gum told Saweri- 
gading to return to the world and to wait by the 
sea. 

La Toge Langi Batara (aim used his supernatu- 
ral power to fell the Walenrang tree. It disap- 
peared into the earth and reappeared suddenly 
on the shore, in the form of a large boat Saweri- 
gading named his new boat "La Walenrang." 
Before sailing across the ocean to find his bride, 
he swore an oath that after he married We Cudai, 
he would never return to Luwu. 

Soon after Sawerigading arrived at his destina- 
tion, he found his princess, We Cudai, married 
her and settled in her kingdom. 

One day he felt homesick, so he gathered his 
wife and followers together and sailed his boat 
back across the sea to his home kingdom of 
Luwu, thus breaking the oath he had sworn. 
Before he could arrive, a fierce storm smashed 
his boat "La Walenrang" to pieces. All its passen- 
gers were drowned. The waves beached the keel 
o! his boat on one of the islands to the south, the 
mast in a different coastal village, the shattered 
pieces of deck nearby, and the hull on a shore in 
the same region. 

The people who lived nearby collected all the 
sea-strewn pieces of the boat. Thus it was that 
from the wreck of Sawerigading's boat "La 
Walenrang," the ancestors of the Buginese 
people learned to build large boats, which they 
have been building for generations ever since 



FORES! FIELD AND SEA FOLKLIFE IN INDONESIA 73 




Ibove Sulawesi boatbuilders are renown throughout 
Indonesia 'Ibis boathuilder near Majene. South 
Sulawesi, works with simple tools The dowels are 
made oj 'iron wood and the caulk ofc rushed < oral tin, I 
ml The large ship he is building /nil cairy cattle and 
passengers between Kalimantan (Borneo) and 
Sulawesi PI hy < harles Zerner 

Right Sulawesi navigators have directed their boats 
through the was oj Indonesia for centuries Pita' Haji 
Saniaya, a Mandar captain ami navigator, sails to 
fishing waters offshore from his home in Majene. 
Smith Sulawesi Photo l>\ Charles Zernei 




I li IKl S'l FIELD \NI I SI \ I ( )[ Mil I IN IN|)i INFSIA 



This myth tells the origin of boatbuilding in 
South Sulawesi. A typical prau (sailboat) from 
this region has curving stem posts and a broad 
hull. The mast is a tripod, easily lowered by re- 
leasing the front legs so the other two legs can 
pivot on pins that provide the main footing. The 
sail is rectangular and slung at an angle. 

The initial steps in building a boat are marked 
by ceremonial and ritual activities. The tree used 
for a boat must be of a specific type. When cut 
down, it must topple in the direction decided by 
a panrita (boatbuilding master). If the tree falls 
otherwise, it should be abandoned. Before start- 
ing to saw up the tree, people gather at the 
boatyard for a ritual. On what will be the rear 
section of the keel they put traditional Buginese 
cakes including onde-onde (marble-shaped cake 
with palm sugar filler), songkolo (sticky rice), 
ciicur (disc-shaped, wrinkle fried brown sugar 
and sticky rice flour cake), baje (steamed sticky 
rice with palm sugar) and bananas. The keel is 
then sawn to length with a tool that has been 
given supernatural power by the master crafts- 
man. It must be cut through without stopping by 
one man alone. 

The night before the boat is launched, another 
public ceremony takes place. People gather at 
the boatyard throughout the evening. They are 
served the traditional Buginese cakes. Everyone 
who attends this ceremony also comes the fol- 
lowing day to help the launch, which is led by a 
punggawa (a traditional respected leader in 
boatbuilding). The punggawa starts the work by 
drilling into the middle of the keel for about one 
centimeter. The dust from the drill is then given 
to the owner of the boat, publically declaring his 



identity, which was kept secret until this moment. 
Then, the punggawa mounts the front deck and 
gives the command to launch the boat. A song in 
the local dialect is sung that encourages and 
gives spirit to the people pushing the boat into 
the water. 

Myths and ritual in boatbuilding in South Su- 
lawesi still exist in the knowledge and practice of 
traditional experts, even though their traditional 
ways face challenges from ever-increasing mod- 
ern technology. 

Darmawan M. Rahman is a professor and researcher at 
the Teacher Training College (I.K.I.P.) in l'iuni> 
Pandang, South Sulawesi He received his M.Sc in 
Anthropology from the I 'niversity of Pennsylvania and 
his /'/) D m Anthropology from Hasanuddin I 'niversity 
in I fung Pandang. 

Mukhlis graduated from Gajah Mada I niversity in 
Yogyakarta m Centraljava He did advanced studies 
in Social Anthropology til the I niversity of Oslo, 
Norway, and received his Ph D in Social Anthropology 
from Hasanuddin I 'niversity m I /mm Pandang 

Citations and Further Readings 

Abidin, Andi Zainal l l > - i The 1 La Galigo Epic Cycle 
of South Celebes and its Diffusion Indonesia 
17:161-169. 

Clad, James, 1981. Before the Wind: Southeast Asian 
Sailing Traders Asia 4:20-23, 43. 

Horridge, Adrian 1985. The Prahu: Traditional Sailing 
Boat of Indonesia Singapore: Oxford 

Macknight, C. C. 1979. The Study of Praus in the Indo- 
nesian Archipelago Canberra: Australian National 
University. 



F( >REST, FIELD AM ) SEA F( >I KLIFE IK IND( INESIA 7S 



I.AM) IN NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURES 



Knowledge and Power: 

Land in Native 

American Cultures 



Olivia Cadaval 



The encounter between the peoples of eastern 
and western hemispheres that began nearly 500 
years ago has had a dramatic effect on the waj 
land and natural resources in the Americas are 
thought about and used. Exploration and coloni- 
zation led to land use practices foreign to those 
developed by indigenous societies and compat- 
ible with the existing ecosystem. Almost 500 
years ago, newcomers failed to learn from those 
who understood their home environment. The 
European campaign of discovery" And conquest 
made this exchange impossible. Native popula- 
tions ol the Americas continue to pass on their 
systematic knowledge about then environment, 
but usually only within their own communities 
This years commemoration of the 500th anniver- 
sary o| the- year before Columbus' voyage has 
been undertaken in the belief that it is possible 
for our present society to learn and profit from 
indigenous knowledge about the land ol the' 
Americas, Conserving the earth in the present, as 
in the past, is as much about indigenous knowl- 
edge and society as it is about ecology and eco- 
nomics. 

Since I i { >-. Native American lands and ways 
ol life have been under siege. Native populations 
were enslaved, exploited and nearly extermi 
nated, systematically driven off their lands, iso- 
lated in ecologically marginal reservations and 
largely disallowed social existence in the- contem- 
porary world except as subjects of ethnographic 
studies. The colonial despoilment of lands and 
resources, the cultural domination and distortion 
of native societies, the extinction of entire popu- 
lations and the conversion of people- into second- 



class citizens was a prelude to the current on- 
slaught of modern economic expansionism. 

Today, Native Americans continue to be ex- 
ploited and their lands continue to be expropri- 
ated while their cultural values and symbolic 
universes are denigrated and denied. 

At the core ol most Native American cultures 
are concepts ol land, which shape all facets of 
political, social, economic and symbolic life To 
Europeans, the 15th century conquest of the 
Americas simply provided land to be exploited 
for the enrichment of European royal states In 
contrast, Native American cultures have generally 
perceived land as part of their cultural environ- 
ment as well as the source of nourishment and 
shelter. Land sustains Native American communi- 
ties At the 1990 Continental Conference, "500 
Years ol Indian Resistance," held in Quito, Ecua- 
dor, participants formally declared: "We do not 
consider ourselves owners of the land. It is our 
mother, not a piece of merchandise. It is an inte- 
gral part ol our life. It is our past, present and 
future." 

The intruders strategies to control Native 
Americans and then lands obscured the diversity 
of indigenous cultures; they defined European 
life as the only ethical model and classified all 
Native Americans simply as "savages," who had 
no valid culture of their own and who needed to 
be "civilized." The newcomers' lack of respect 
lor the land was matched by the lack of respect 
they showed native cultures. Diversity was ex- 
cluded, And Native Americans were categorically 
called "Indians" ignoring the distinct cultures, 
histories, languages and ecological circumstances 



'in, Tican < i ill i lies is co-sponsored by the Smithsonian Institution s National Museum of the Anient- iin 
i >,;■) i made possible by the Smithsonian, the Inter-American Foundation, the 1 s Embassy m Bolivia, 
nd, Sealaska Heritage Foundation, the Government <>/ < hiapas, Hexit o, Instituto Nac ional Incligenista 
eutro i /<- tnvestigai. ioues r llstudios Superiores en Antropologia Sac nil, and American Airlines of Quito, 



76 I \ND IN X.VIIVI AMI RI( V\ i IES 



HoonahL\J uneau 



that have shaped Native American 
experience. 

The first Europeans to come 
here encountered a world popu- 
lated by many ancient and com- 
plex societies. The chronicler Ber- 
nal Diaz del Castillo writes of 
Tenochtitlan (the Aztec urban 
complex that has become Mexico 
City), 

When we saw all those cities 
and villages built in the water, 
and other great towns on dry 
land, and that straight and 
level causeway leading to 
Mexico, we were astounded. 
These great towns and cues 
and buildings rising from the 
water, all made of stone, 
seemed like an enchanted 
vision from the tale of Amadis. 
It was all so wonderful that I 
do not know how to describe 
this first glimpse of things 
never heard, seen or dreamed 
of before. (Diaz del Castillo 
1963) 

The Aztec city of Tenochtitlan 
had a population larger than any 
city in Europe at the time. 

The conquest succeeded in 
undermining political organization 
but not in eradicating cultural plu- 
ralism. Distinct, unique cultures continue to de- 
fine the Native American landscape, in spite of 
profound transformations caused by particular 
histories of colonization, imposed patterns of 
settlement, missionary intrusions, and the more 
recent immigrations and forms of exploitation. 

Native horticulture has depended upon crop 
variety and genetic diversity for maintaining suc- 
cessful food production in different environ- 
ments. At the base of both Native American cul- 
ture and horticulture is the concept of living in 
harmony with the diversity of the natural world. 
The Mexican anthropologist Arturo Warman uses 
the analogy of corn, which is native to the Ameri- 
cas. "Maize is our kin," he writes. Like Native 
American culture, he continues, 

maize was not a natural miracle; maize 
was a human creation made possible 
through human intervention. Maize was 
the collective invention of millions of 
people over several millennia on this con- 




BOL1VIA 
Taauile* ^-"&" ^ Tirifeofca 

Comunidaiies-^. 
' S * de JalqV 
'-, » x> .Sucre 

CHILE " ~ 



tinent. So we have maize as a cultural 
product. But maize is also diversity and 
diversity means knowledge and experi- 
mentation. Diversity was the way to live 
near the natural environment and not to 
fight with it. . . . (Warman 1991) 

Contemporary Native Americans do not claim 
to have retained without change the cultures that 
existed prior to the European conquest. Much 
has perished, much has been destroyed and all 
has changed. In many cases, native communities 
have been able to absorb and restructure foreign 
elements to respond to new situations. The Ma- 
yan anthropologist, Jacinto Arias explains, "In our 
stories we tell ourselves our way of being did not 
die; nor will it ever die. because we have special 
virtues that compel us to defend ourselves from 
any threat of destruction." These moral virtues 
combined with thousands of years' knowledge of 
the land, cultural pride and staiggle for self-deter- 

LAND IN NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURES 




Textile traditions combine c reativity and continuity Weavers are inspired by dreams, legends, memories and other 
textiles Today in many communities, textile revivals have brought about a growing sense of cultural pride and self- 
worth A group o/Tzotzil Maya weavers from San Andres Larrainzar study the patterns and brocading 
technique used in ii ceremonial huipil, or tunic Photo In Ricardo Martinez 



mination have forged cultures oi resistance. 

Oriented both by the Smithsonian's overall 
concern for the conservation of cultures and by 
global attention focused on the meaning of the 
Quincentenary, this program will be an opportu- 
nity to heat the voices of members ol Native 
American .societies that have persevered for 500 
years and have maintained an ancient tare for 
the earth and the continuity of their own cultures. 

This program samples the cultural and ecologi- 
cal diversity of Native American societies. The 
groups selected have for centuries continuously 
inhabited the regions presented. It is worthy of 
note thai the continuity of their land tenure has 
depended in a large part on the marginality of 
the land they inhabit. The Amazonian rainforest, 
called by the Shuar "the lungs of the world." are 
almost impenetrable and until recently were ig- 
nored by the outside world. The Andean high- 
lands are harsh and inhospitable, as is the arid 
desert of I he Hopi in Arizona. The steep and 
eroded Mexican mountains of Chiapas and 
< )axaca are a challenge even to native agricultu- 
ralists. The sanely dune country of the Ikoods is 

78 LAND l\ NATIVE AMI KI< \\ i II II RES 



blighted alternately by drought or flood. Al- 
though rich in resources, the coastal rainforest of 
southeastern Alaska is almost inaccessible from 
the interior because of mountains. Communica- 
tion even between communities is difficult due to 
the impenetrable rainforest and has been limited 
to boats and more recently airplanes, weather 
permitting. 

The program will present Native American 
knowledge about land as it informs sacred and 
secular practices, which are often inseparably 
intertwined. The natural and spiritual relation- 
ships between humans and land are central to 
the world order of many Native Americans. As 
Chief Robbie Dick of the (Tee Indians in < .real 
Whale. Quebec, succinctly states. 'It's very hard 
to explain to white people what we mean by 
Land is part ol our life.' We're like rocks and 
trees." In Hopi tradition, physical and cultural 
survival derive from the unity of land and corn. 
Emory Sekaquaptewa explains how the "Hopi 
language and culture are intimately intertwined, 
binding corn, people and the land together 
( Sekai [uaptewa 1986) 



The program is about land, ecosystems and 
cultural knowledge that have sustained Native 
American cultures before Columbus and in the 
present. Each culture represented has a vision of 
the cosmos and the world as a system of dy- 
namic and interconnected processes. Research for 
the program examined how r domestic, economic 
and ceremonial processes are connected through 
material and expressive culture to form a social 
fabric of productivity and meaning. Agricultural 
and ritual cycles often coincide in Native Ameri- 
can cultures and echo seasonal rhythms of the 
land. 

Participants of the Quincentenary program 
come from 15 cultural groups in six different eco- 
logical areas, including northern and tropical 
rainforests, Andean highlands, Arizona desert, 
and Sierra Madre mountains and coastal dunes of 
the Isthmus of Tehuantepec in Mexico. 

The Tlingit, Haida and Tsimshian participants 
come from the Southeast Alaskan rainforest. They 
represent distinct but related cultures that form 
part of a broader cultural regii in extending from 
Alaska to Washington State commonly known as 
the Northwest Coast. The Canelos Quichua, 
Shuar and Achuar participants come from the 
rainforest region of eastern Ecuador, which forms 
part of the northwestern region of the Amazi >n 
river basin. Canelos Quichua have settlements in 
this area among the foothills of the Andes, while 
Shuar live in the region's swampy lowlands, 
which extend beyond the Ecuadorian borders 
into Peru. The Achuar are the Shuar s neighbors 
to the east. The Lacandon participant comes from 
the rapidly disappearing rainforest region of east- 
ern Chiapas in Mexico. Although different in 
history, social organization and cultural patterns, 
these northern and tropical rainforest societies 
often parallel one another in their management 
of resources and understanding of the land. 

The Andes mountains rise above much of 
Colombia, Ecuador, Pern and Bolivia. They form 
high plateaus where the climate is cool even at 
the equator, which passes through the highlands 
of Ecuador and Colombia. This region has alti- 
tudes ranging from 6,600 to 14,600 feet and an 
impressive diversity of terrains, microclimates and 
distinct cultural groups that live here. 

Andean participants in our Festival come from 
three different cultural and ecological areas. The 
Aymara-speaking participants come from commu- 
nities in the high pampas of Tiwanaku, which 
slope gradually into Lake Titikaka in Bolivia. 
Members of these communities are currently 
engaged in the Wila-Jawira Project to recover the 
ancient raised-field or suka kollus, farming tech- 




Subsistence for the Lacandon in the Chiapas rainforest depends 
mi d diversity of crops iiml the rotation of garden /'lots, sup- 
plemented by resources from forest and nicy Vicente Kin 
Paniagua helps clear the growth on mi abandoned 
plot topreparea newmilpa, orgarden 
Photi i by Ricardi i Martinez 

nology of the pre-Inca Tiwanaku society. The 
Jalq'a participants, who are also from Bolivia but 
speak Quechua, live in communities in a remote, 
rugged mountainous area south ot Tiwanaku. 
Jalq'a cultural identity emerged among groups 
relocated by the Inca empire to be frontier out- 
posts; links with their original communities were 
later completely severed by Spanish settlers. The 
third group of participants are Quechua-speaking 
Taquilenos, who live on the island of Taquile in 
the Peruvian part of Lake Titikaka. 

Hopi participants come from the high, and 
desert of Arizona. Here the land has been eroded 
into buttes and mesas cut by deep canyons. Riv- 
ers flow only during snow melt or after a rain- 
storm, and streams How underground. As in the 
Andean highlands, people can live in this dry 
region only with sophisticated agricultural tec h 
niques. 

Participants from the multiethnic highlands of 
Chiapas in Mexico come from the Tzotzil-speak- 
ing community of San Pedro Chenalho and the 
Tzeltal-speaking community of Tenejapa. Com- 
munities in this Mayan cultural region renown for 
its textiles distinguished themselves from one 
another by characteristic styles of dress. Weaving 
and natural dyeing traditions in the area are cur- 
rently being revitalized by state and private self- 
help projects. 

Like Chiapas, the state of Oaxaca in Mexico is 
also multiethnic Zapotec participants come from 
the farming communities of Zoogocho and 
Tenejapa in the northeastern mountainous region 
of the state. They differ in culture and dialect 



I.AM) IN NATIVE \MERI< A\ (I 111 RES 79 



from the Zapotec communities to the west and 
south. [kood participants come from the fishing 
community of San Mateo del Mar in the dunes on 
the Pacific coast of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. 
Although remaining culturally and linguistically 
distinct from nearby societies, they have long en- 
gaged in commercial trade with the dominant 
Zapotecs, who inhabit the surrounding area, and 
in bartering relationships with the Chontal, who 
live just north of them along the coast. 

Participants will demonstrate subsistence ac- 
tivities and craft skills, present parts ol ritual per- 
formances and narrate oral histories. These cul- 
tural elements have been passed from generation 
to generation and speak eloquently oi the con- 
nections Native Americans have constructed be- 
tween land and society. Discussion sessions will 
locus on some oi the major issues which con- 
front Native American cultures today. These in- 
clude: natural resource management, traditional 
technology, maintenance and destruction oi an- 
logical equilibrium and questions <>l monocultiva- 
tion, property titles, national parks, transnational 
corporations, military zones, economic develop- 
ment models, agrarian reform laws, foreign debt, 
political repression, self determination, cultural 
identity, intrusion of religious sects, fragmenta 
tion of lands and human rights. 



. nteuary Program and i , 
Festival's Land in Satire American < allures program 
She /),/s i o iii I i u led resean h and i ollabt irated in publii 

miming with the Washington /»< Latino and 
Caribbean communities for over a decade She received 
her I'b /> from the George Washington I uirersily 
\merican Studies Folklife Program 



< nations anil Further Readings 

Arias, Jacinto 1990 San Pedro Chenalho Algodesu 
Historia, < uentos v < ostumbres Tuxtla Gutierrez, 
Chiapas; Talleres Graficos del Estado. 

Barahas, Alicia M and Miguel A Bartolome 1986 
Etnicidad \> phiralismo cultural la dindmica etnica 

en Oaxaca Mexico, 1 ) F Collecuon Regiones de 
Mexico, liwiuit< > Nacional de Antropologia e I hsii >- 
i i.i 



Bazua, Silvia 1982. Los Unities. Mexico, D.F.: Instituto 
Nacii mal [ndigenista. 

Buechler, Hans C. 1971. The Bolivian Aymara New 
York: Hi ilt, Reinhart and Winston, [nc 

Diaz del Castillo, Bernal. 1963. History of the Conquest 
of New Spain London: Penguin Classics Edition. 

Gomez Perez, Maria. 1990. Bordando milpas Chiapas 
Taller Tzotzil, INAREMAC.Holm. Bill. 1987. Spirit 
and Ancestor A Century of Northwest (.oast Indian 
Art at the Burke Museum Seattle: University of 
Washington Press 

Johnsson, Mick 1986. Food and Culture Among Boliv- 
ian Aymara Symbolic Expressions of Social Rela- 
tions Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International. 

Mashinkias, Manuel and Mariana Awak Tentets 1988 
la selva uuestra rida sabiduria ecologica del 
pueblo shuar Instituto Bilingue Intercultural Shuar 
Bomboiza Morona Santiago, Ecuador Ediciones 
\\',\ \ \ ALA. 

Mexico Indigena Mexico Instituto Nacional [ndigen- 
ista No 1 ii IV) 

Morris Jr., Walter F. 1987. Living Maya New York 
I [any \ Abrams, Inc. 

Napolitano, Emanuela. 1988. Shuary anent el canto 
sagrado en la historia de un pueblo Quito Edi- 
ciones ABYA-YALA. 

Pellizzaro, Siro 1990. Arutam mitologia Shuar Quito: 
Ediciones ABYA-YALA. 

Ramirez Castaneda, Elisa 1987 El fin de los montiocs 
Mexico, 1)1 Instituto National de Antropologia e 
I listoria. 

Rasnake, Rogei Neal 1988 Domination and Cultural 
Resistance Authority and Power Among Andean 
People Durham: Duke University Press 

Signorini, Halo 1979. Los huaves de San Mateo del Mar 
Mexico, D F Instituto Nacional Indigenista 

\ iew from the shore: American Indian Perspectives on 
the Quincentenary. Northeast Indian Quarterly. 
1990 (Fall). 

\\ arman, Arturo. Forthcoming. Maize as ( (rganizing 

Principle How Corn Shaped Space, Time and Rela- 
tionships in the New World In Seeds of the Past 
Washington, D.C Smithsonian Press 

Whitten, Dorothea S. and Norman Jr, 1988 From Myth 
tn< reation Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 

Wyckoff, Lydia L. 1985 Designs and Factions Politics. 
Religion and ( eramics on the Hopi Third Mesa 
Albuquerque 1 niversity oi New Mexico. 



SO 



AND [N \ \ll\ I Wll Mi AN i I III RES 



Conocimiento y Poder: 

La Tierra en las 

Culturas Indigenas 



Olivia Cadaval 

traducido por Alicia Partnoy 



El encuentro entre los pueblos de los hemis- 
ferios occidental y oriental iniciado hace casi 500 
anos ha tenido un efecto dramatico sobre la 
forma en que la tierra y los recursos naturales en 
las Americas son concebidos y usados. La explo- 
ration y la colonization propicio practicas ajenas 
en el uso de la tierra a las desarrolladas por las 
culturas indigenas e incompatibles con el ecosis- 
tema existente. Los recien Uegados, hace casi 500 
anos, no supieron aprender de los que conocian 
su ambiente. La campana de "descubrimiento" y 
conquista hizo imposible este intercambio. Las 
poblaciones nativas clc las Americas conservan y 
utilizan su conocimiento sistematico del ambiente 
aunque solo dentro de sus comunidades. La con- 
memoracion del aniversario de los 500 anos del 
ano antes del viaje de Colon ha sido concebida 
en la creencia de que es posible para nuestra 
sociedad aprender y beneficiar del conocimiento 
indigena en cuanto al uso de la tierra en las 
Americas. La preservation de la tierra en la actua- 
lidad, asi como en el pasado, debe basarse tanto 
en el conocimiento de los indigenas y de la so- 
ciedad como en el manejo de la ecologia y de la 
economia. 

La mayoria de las culturas indigenas considera 
como conceptos clave aquellos relativos a la 
tierra, los que dan forma a todas las facetas de mi 
vida politica. social, economic.! y simbolica. Para 
los europeos la conquista del siglo XV fue sim- 
plemente un hallazgo de tierras para la explo- 
tacion en pro del enriquecimiento de sus monar- 
quias. En contraste, las culturas indigenas han 
concebido generalmente a la tierra de manera 
mas compleja, atribuyendole tanto valores cultu- 
rales como economicos. 

Los conquistadores consiguieron corroer la 
organization politica de los indigenas. pero no 
lograron erradicar el pluralismo cultural. E] 
paisaje indigena esta marcado por la presencia de 
culturas diferenciadas y singulares. 



El programa de este festival se basa en la pre- 
ocupacion del Smithsonian por la conservation 
de las culturas y por la signification del quinto 
centenario. En este marco se podran escuchar las 
voces de los miembros de cliversas sociedades 
indigenas que durante 500 anos han perseverado 
en conservar la tierra de sus ancestros y en pro- 
teger la continuidad de mis propias culturas. Los 
participantes provienen de catorce grupos cultu- 
ralmente diferentes. Las seis zonas ecologicas de 
origen son el bosque humedo, la selva tropical, 
el altiplano, el desierto, la montana y los 
medanos costeros. Se incluyen representantes 
tlingit, haida y tsimshian, del sudeste de Alaska; 
canelos quichua. shuar y achuar del oriente de 
Ecuador; indigenas de habla aymara de Ti- 
wanaku; jalq'a de Bolivia \' taquilenos de la zona 
peruana del lago Titikaka; los hopi de Arizona en 
los Estados Initios; de Mexico, lacandones del 
oriente de Chiapas, la comunidad de habla tzotzil 
de San Pedro Chenalho y la de habla tzeltal de 
Tenejapa, zapotecas de Zoogocho y Tenejapa, y 
los ikood del istmo de Tehuantepec. 

El programa es sobre la tierra, sus ecosistemas 
y los conocimientos culturales que han man- 
tenido a las culturas indigenas desde antes de la 
llegada de Colon hasta nuestros dias. Cada cul- 
tura representada tiene una vision del cosmos y 
del mundo como un sistema de procesos dinami- 
cos e interrelacionados. La investigation para este 
programa consistio en el estudio de los procesos 
domesticos, economicos y ceremoniales en mi 
relacion cultural. La production y los ciclos ritua- 
les coinciden en las culturas indigenas y hacen 
eco a los ritmos de las estaciones. Los participan- 
tes present. nan al publico divers. is actividades de 
subsistencia y artesanales, v elementos de sus 
ceremonias rituales. Ademas, narraran historias 
que han sido transmitidas de generation en gen- 
eration y que explican elocuentemente la rela- 
tion entre su tierra y su cultura. Las sesiones de 



LAND IN NATIVl AMERICAN CULTURES <S 1 




Muchos indigenas americcifios adoptaron el 
calendario catolico de fiestas para celebrar 
valores y c reencias indigenas Free uentemente 
las celebraciones empiezan y terminal en el 
atrio de la iglesia Vliisicos ikood encabezan 
una procesion durante In fiesta de la 
Candelaria en San Mateo del Mar Foto de 

Saul Mill.m 

1 icente A in Paniagua talla diferentes puntas 
lie flecha, Uis puntas iiiniiu segun el tipo del 
in I nun I cazado Foto de Ricardo Martinez 




discusion se centraran en algunos de los ic-m.is 
principales que actualmente preocupan a los 
indigenas americanos. Estos tenuis incluyen el 
liso de recursos naturales, la tecnologia tradi- 
cional, Li destruccion del equilibrio ecologico, los 
problemas del monocultivo, los titulos de 
propiedad, los parques nacionales, les corpora- 
ciones transnacionales, las zonas militares, los 
modelos economicos de desarrollo, las leyes de 
reforma agraria, la deuda externa, la represion 
politica, la autodeterminacion, la identidad iiil- 



tural, la intromision de sectas religiosas, la par- 
celacion de tierras \ los derechos humanos 



( ilirin ( adaval es Piret torn del Programa Quintu 
( entenai in de In ()fici>ia de Programas de < iilturas 

ales ri uradora del programa del festiral In 
1 en las < iilturas Indigenas Por mas de una 

inrestigac tones v ha 1 olaborado en 
1 nit is fui hi tins <. 1 in hi comunidad lalina y del 
1 arihe de Washington. I> < Recibio su doctorado de la 
I nirersidad de Genrge Washington 



82 



Wl ' IN \ VriYl WW RII \N 1 1 I I 1 l;l ■ 



We Live in the Amazon 

Rainforest, the Lungs 

of the World 



Miguel 

We live in the Amazon rainforest, the lungs of 
the world. We have our our own culture, which 
is threatened by the aftermath of the Spanish 
conquest and by western culture. We struggle to 
restore, to revalidate, the sense of our own 
worth. 

For us, culture is language, and land is our 
existence. When the land is destroyed, we cease 
being Shuar and Achuar. We declare our pres- 
ence and strengthen our alliances with non-na- 
tives to continue to survive on this planet. 

For us there are three earth spaces: under- 
ground, where a Shuar group lives; where we 
live; and above, where yet another Shuar group 
lives. We have learned this from our ancestors. 
Therefore, we defend the underground and the 
above, the air space, because our family dwells 
there. 

We value the land because it sustains us. We 
want the land because we want to live on it, not 
commercialize it. We want it to cultivate and to 
give it its worth, not a price. We have no other 
space where we can go. People cannot under- 
stand because they think of land as a commercial 
enterprise, something to divide and sell. We per- 
ceive land as a collective entity. We may be the 
only native group in the world which is all re- 
lated. I have family wherever I go. We have or- 
ganized a federation. Land must be global be- 
cause we are all one family. 

From the time of our ancestors, our warrior 
parents, the Shuar woman has been a major 
source of strength and support. She implored the 
gods to protect the warrior; she encouraged the 
warrior to go to the waterfalls in search of the 
arutam spirits to gain his valor. We want our 
sisters to remain in their communities to cultivate 
their lands and raise their animals. Women will 
be able to have their savings and get credit from 
the federation. We will fight for real change in 
our community and the equality between men 
and women. 

Our time is ours, and we depend on no one. 



Puwainchir 



We educate our children in our own land, in our 
community, and prepare them in order that they 
will always return. That is preparing the future. 
Other places have witnessed the flight of native 
professionals. It is a luxury to be in New York, 
Frankfurt or Paris. Hut it is a greater luxury to be a 
professional who defends the rights ot your 
people, defends your own existence. That is why 
we return and we will continue returning to our 
communities. 

The Shuar Federation is a regional organization 
and co-founder of the national organization of 
indigenous organizations. Within three years, we 
hope to solve the problems with land litigation. 
We need to expand our programs. But now there 
is confusion and we need time. Governments do 
not provide much support to native communities 

We need to defend the people that live in the 
rainforest, people who are not graduates ol the 
university, but who have maintained the Amazons 
for thousands and thousands of years. We must 
defend people, and not the animals or the trees or 
the underground resources. People know and 
understand the beauty and richness of the Ama- 
zons. They know how to survive in the rainforest. 
We need to provide them with technical and fi- 
nancial assistance and strengthen programs to 
prevent their death. 

We ask the government: what will you do 
about the pollution of our rivers, about the de- 
struction of our forests? The reforestation program 
is ambiguous, political. We need more than rice. 
some clothes and corregated roofs. We need train- 
ing for our people, strengthening of our programs 
in aviation, education, topography, civil registry, 
health and all the programs organized by the 
Shuar Federation. We need to defend our position 
and continue lighting. 

Miguel Puwainchirs is President of the Shuar and 
Achuar Federation, a local organization <>/ in- 
digenous peoples located in the rainforest oj east- 
erti Ecuador 



I \\l> IN NATIVE AMERII \\ < I I I I HI s 83 



Vivimos en la Amazonia 
El Pulmon del Mundo 



Miguel Puwainchir 



Somos un pueblo como cualquier otro pueblo 
del mundo con la diferencia de que vivimos en la 
amazonia, en el pulmon del mundo. Cada pueblo 
tiene mi propia cultura y lo que hoy tratamos es 
revalorizar esa cultura por que ya se esta pei 
diendose. Perdiendose por que hubo influencia 
de la conquista espanola y por que la cultura 
occidental y la cultura shuar se tergiversaron, v 
confundieron todo nuestro sentimiento cultural. 

Para nosotros la cultura es el idioma y la tierra 
en nuestra misma existencia. Tenemos que hacer 
nuestra presencia como seres que todavia esta- 
mos en el planeta y dar un mensaje de solidari- 
dad, de unidad hacia quienes no son indigenas 
para fortalecer lazos de amistad, para que este 
pueblo siga sobreviviendo en este planeta 

Para nosotros hay ties espacios de tierra. Ila\ 
un espacio subsuelo en que vive un grupo shuar. 
este en el que estamos ahora, v que es nuestra 
tierra donde estan ubicados los shuar, v arriba 
hay otro espacio en donde vive otro grupo shuar. 
Esto fue una ensenanza desde hace muchos 
anos, Creemos en eso y por eso que defendemos 
el subsuelo por que alii vive nuestra familia Lo 
mismo defendemos el espacio aire por que sabe- 
mos que alia vive nuestra familia. 

F.I shuar enseno Lis tecnicas y tiicticas de de- 
fensa a la guerra. Por ejemplo los compaiieros 
shuar que viven arriba, ellos tenian miedo a esas 
hormigas anangospor que eran asesinas pen' un 
shuar viajo de aqui y les enseno, de que eso no- 
sotros aqui los shuar comemos anangosy les 
ensenaron a como cazar anangosy asi abajo en 
el subsuelo. Hay una mujer, una diosa, que se 
llama tsunki, la diosa del agua. Le enseno al 
honibre a vivir bajo el agua, y hay vida bajo esta 
tierra 

Para iidsiitnis Li tierra es el elemento vital de 
la existencia del pueblo shuar v achuar. Eso es 
nuestra vida. En el momento de que se acaba la 
tierra ya no somos shuar. ya no somos achuar 
■si > que n< >s. >tr< >s luc harm >s N( > pi >r tener 

. \ 1 1\ l wit ku \\ i i i ii la s 



una tinea, lo cual es nun contrario a lo que pi- 
ensen los no shuar Nosotros queremos tierra por 
que queremos \ tenia y no comercializarla, 
Queremos tierra por que queremos producir a 
esta tierra, \ dai valor a esta tierra. no precio, por 
que nosotros no tenemos otro espacio donde ir. 
< )tra gente dira que nosotros muertos nemos al 
cielo, pero nosotros tenemos la esperan/a de que 
el shuar nunea muere. Eso ustedes lo poelran 
averiguar, que el shuar no muere v si muere es 
por que alguien lo ha matado. Por eso es que 
nosotros estamos luchando por la supervivencia, 
y eso nadie nos va a entender por que piensan 
que la tierra para mucha gente no shuar hay que 
comercializar; hay que individualizar v entregai 
retazos de tierra a personas; mientras que no- 
sotros buscamos la colectividad de las tierras 
Nuestra caracteristica fundamental creo es que 
somos los unicos indigenas en el mundo de que 
todos tenemos el mismo parentesco familiar, no 
nos diferenciamos Yo tengo familias, en 
cualquier lunar que este, eso es la gran ventaja 
que tenemos. es por eso que nosotros buscamos 
y nos hemos organizado en una sola federacion. 
Las tierras globales tienen que ser globales por 
que es de una familia 

Nosotros hemos pensado que nuestros an- 
tepasados. nuestros padres guerreros, hacian 
guerra pero eon el apoyo fundamental de la 
mujer Si la mujer ujaj no imploraba a los espiri- 
tus. esto podia hacer morir al guerrero. Si la 
mujer no le ayudaba, o no le animaba para que 
se fuera a las cascadas, en busca del arntatn, que 
es el dios para nosotros, entonces el nunea podia 
ser valiente. Es ^Wxw la mujer shuar es la parte 
fundamental de la existencia del hombre v del 
pueblo Shuar. 

Queremos que toelas estas hermanas nuestras 
queden en su propia tierra, en sus comunidades 
y que la organizacion como tal les apoye a ellas, 
v que sus recursos economicos que ellas generan 
se vaya ya ahorrandose en cooperativas de 



ahorro y credito que la Federation Shuar ya va a 
hacer funcionar. Nosotros tenemos fe, en el cam- 
bio, un cambio economico social y politico, en- 
tonces ya no va a haber esc shuar humillado. 
Hay que darle importancia a la mujer que va a 
tener su dinero, por la cria de chanchos, polios, 
cuyes, mani, poroto, y otros. Vamos a luchar por 
que se de un verdadero cambio en nuestro 
pueblo; y una igualdad entre la mujer y el 
hombre shuar-achuar. 

Esta es nuestra tierra, no tenemos otra. Nos- 
otros somos visitantes cuando andamos en otros 
lugares, hemos tenido oportunidades y nos han 
ofrecido que podamos trabajar en las ciudades 
pero hemos dicho no. Podemos ganar fuera 
desde mil a dos mil dolares mensuales, pero 
gasto todo eso viviendo en una sociedad de con- 
sumo. Pero en nuestra tierra, hay todo. Aqui yo 
puedo vivir. Puede haber inflaciones, puede 
haber crisis economicas al nivel del mundo, pero 
no asi en mi tierra. Por que de nuestros nos po- 
demos sacar peces, de la montana puedo obtener 
animates, y de la tierra podemos cultivar lo que 
nosotros queremos. Aqui es un paraiso. En el 
campo podemos trabajar las horas que tino de- 
sea, no dependemos de nadie, y podemos pro- 
ducir lo que nosotros queremos, y comercializar 
nuestros productos, no dependemos de nadie. 
Educamos nuestros hijos en la propia tierra, en la 
propia comunidad y Ios preparamos para que 
despues, ellos regresen a la comunidad y vivan o 
sea. eso es preparar el futuro. En otros lados ha 
habido la fuga de muchos profesionales indige- 
nas. Es un lujo y un privilegio para esa gente de 
estar en Nueva York. Frankfurt, o en Paris. Pero 
mejor lujo es cuando. si es profesional, defender 
los derechos de su pueblo, defender la existencia 
de si mismo. Es por eso es que nosotros re- 
gresamos y vamos a seguir volviendo a nuestras 
comunidades. 

La Federation Shuar ha dado origen a la for- 
mation y organization regional, y hemos sido los 
cofundadores de la organization national de 
organizaciones indigenas en Ecuador. Esperamos 
en tres anos solucionar los problemas de lidera- 
ciones de tierras. Tendremos programas que se 
van ir ampliando pero habra dificultades de otra 
naturaleza, ya no scran de tipo politico. Es un 
proceso que tiene que darse con el tiempo, pues 
es un cambio. Por que ahorita hay una confusion 
total con lo cual hay la influencia de todos los 
sectores. Por eso es que en estos momentos no 
hay gran apoyo de parte del gobierno hacia las 
comunidades indigenas. 

Lo mas importante es que se debe defender al 
hombre que vive en la selva, no al animal ni al 




Los shuar del bosque humedo ecuatoriano usan 
leyendas mitologicas intra ensenara las jdvenes sobre 
su cultura r su tierra Ins shuar tienen relaciones 
espec tales am diferentes animales Dicen haber 
domesticado til oso que se volvio en su protector Este 
dibujo, que forma parte de una serie de dibujos 
diddcticos del Centra de < dpacitacion en Sucua, 
representa tt un oso protegiendo a un shuar del ataque 
tie un tigre. Foto de Pilar Larriamendi \los t ,^'> 

arbol, pero a esos recursos que viven bajo tierra. 
si no a esc hombre, a esc hombre que no se 
gradua en la universidad, a ese hombre shuar o 
a< hnar que es el que vive la selva, que mantuvo 
durante miles y miles de anos esa amazonia, a el 
tienen que defender, a el tienen que decir hay 
que darle asistencia tecnica y financiera para que 
los programas de salud vayan fortaleciendose, y 
que ese shuar. ese hombre amazonico no se mu- 
era, el sabe, el conoce la belle/a y la riqueza de 
la amazonia. El sabe como curarse con la selva, 
el sabe como alimentarse de la selva, el sabe 
como vivir en la selva v como mantener esa 
selva. Es por eso que estamos preocupados y le 
hemos dicho al gobierno — ique va hacer usted 
con la contamination de nuestros rios? — no 
hablcn tic agua potable, por que no hay ni agua 
aqui. Hablcn que van a hacer cuando destruyan 
nuestras selvas. I.a reforestation es un programa 



I \\l I l\ NATIVE AMERII \\ I I ITI'RKS 



85 



ambiguo y politico nada mas. No nos hablen que 
no nos van a comprar con arroz o con ropita o 
con planchas de zinc. Nosotros no necesitamos 
iM). necesitamos un algo mas alia. Hay que ca- 
pacitar a nuestra gente, hay que fortalecer los 
programas que dirige la Federacion Shuar como 
la aviacion, la educacion, la topografia, el registro 
ci\ il, la salud y todos los demas programas que 
esta dirigiendo la Federacion Shuar. 

Les hemos dicho que nosotros somos ecuatori- 
anos, y por eso es que cuando hablan de que los 
pueblos indigenas quieren formar un estado den- 
tro de otro estado es atentar contra la seguridad 
indigena Hemos sido claros no es que queramos 
formar un estado. ustedes nos obligan a que haya 
esa intention de parte de los indigenas. Ustedes 
se han olvidado. Parece como los pajaros k'ii/>i 
que vienen del Peru en las epocas de frutas nada 
mas, o sea en epocas electorales, y despues desa- 
parecen. Hablan de que somos ecuatorianos, 
cantamos el mismo himno nacional, que estamos 
cubiertos por la misma bandera pero despues eso 
desaparece. Hay que mantener nuestra position 
y seguir luchando contra esa presencia, es una 
presencia muda, por que no es nada cierto. 

Yfiguel Pmvainchir es Presidente de la Federcu ion 
Shuar/. \chuar una ua del 

oriei uc de Ecu, 



Shuar imntramuka chikich tarimiat aents irini- 
tain najanatnniun juarkiniaiti, aintsank Ekuatur- 
num inmtiamiisha 

Nakaji in 3 uwi taasainiai jui shuaran nujd 
achuaran nunke iwiarturtin. Tura ukunmaka 
chikich itinrchat takustatji. Chicham emeskamu 
iruneawai tuma asamtai Ekuaturan untri imian 
yainmatsji. 

Tumasha nekas ayampruktinkia Aentsviti, kam- 
punniunam pajand nuna, auka yajasmaka. uu- 
mikia imianchaiti. Shuar-Achuar aents yaintiniaiti 
takakjai, kuvtjiai tura Shuar-Achuar iruntra- 
munam takak juarkimiuana iiini yainkiartiniaiti. 
Tuma asamtai Ekuaturan uuntri paant timiaji ii 
kampunniun emesramsha itiura iwiarattam? ii 
entsari yajauch umaktajme husha itiurkattam? 
aratmaktajai turutip, Saar Entsan amastajai turu- 
tip, nuka wait chichamaiti, tumatskesha arus, 
mamush, apachin turujiri surnsaip. Ikiaau ini- 
ankasar utsumeaji, tuma asamtai ii takatnin yaiu- 
makta 

IL'ici Ekuatur aentsuitji, mi tesatai tatsuji, auka 
atumek mini anentaimprume iran waitruarum 
anakaitarme, antrarum nuamtakitji tarume, ayatik 
anaitiukat tusarum tumasha yamaikia penke 
anentaimkiaji tuma asar takakmakir wetatji, alum 
tumak'd umutsuk waitra asakrumin. 



S() ! \\|> !\ \| [\ | \\|1 RIl Will I1IRES 



Land and Subsistence 
in Tlingit Folklife 

Nora Marks Dauenhauer and 
Richard L. Dauenhauer 



For many Native American people, subsistence 
remains at the heart of traditional culture and oi 
contemporary' folklife as well. For other cultures 
of the United States, "subsistence" may be an 
unfamiliar concept, but today many Native 
Americans cling tenaciously and assertively to the 
subsistence rights that are central to their ethnic 
heritage, cultural identity, traditional spirituality 
and legal standing under numerous treaties with 
the United States government. 

The Tlingit Indians live in Southeast Alaska, 
the part of Alaska that is about the same size and 
shape as Florida. It is a land of rainforest and 
fiords, where few communities are connected by 
road. In this spectacular setting, the natural, ma- 
terial, social, ceremonial And spiritual worlds are 
tightly connected in most ol the activities and 
artifacts of Tlingit folklife. Animals are central to 
cultural identities and processes. A Tlingit indi- 
vidual, following Ins or her mother's line, is born 
into one of two moieties: Raven or Eagle. Tradi- 
tionally, one married a spouse from the opposite 
moiety, so that each person's father and a man's 
children were of the opposite moiety. Each moi- 
ety includes several clans, also named alter ani- 
mals and using animals as their emblem, or to- 
tem. We should emphasize here that these totems 
are not objects of religious worship or venera- 
tion, but are heraldic in nature. < )ften referred to 
as "crests," they indicate ones ancestry and social 
identity. Some clans of the- Raven moiety and 
their crests are: Lukaax.ddi (sockeye, or red 
salmon). L 'uknax.ddi (coho, or silver salmon), 
L 'eineidi (dog salmon), Kiks.ddi (frog) and 
T'akdeintaan (snail, seagull or tern). Some clans 
of tlie Eagle moiety and their crests are: Teikweidi 
(brown bear), Dakl'aweidi (killer whale), Choo- 
kant'idH porpoise) and Kaii^wiinntaan (wolf). A 
person becomes a member of one ol the clans at 
birth and is given a personal name, which often 
also describes or alludes to an animal 

The social use of resources occurs daily in 



Tlingit life, especially the sharing of food. As this 
article was being drafted, a Tlingit man delivered 
a cardboard box of seal meat .is a gilt lor the 
mother of one of the co-authors. Seal is impor- 
tant for Tlingits. fhe skin is used for sewing moc- 
casins and vests, the meat is eaten, and the tat is 
rendered into oil used to preserve other foods or 
to be eaten with foods such as dried fish. Tradi- 
tionally, the intestines were braided and pre- 
served m seal oil, but this practice is relatively 
rare today. 

With spring comes the herring run in South- 
east Alaska, and herring eggs are a favorite. The 
best herring spawn is in Sitka, and the Sitka 
Tlinuit have traditionally been generous to their 
friends and relatives in other communities, shar- 
ing the richness of their harvest. In May the 
eulachon ('hooligan' -- small, smelt-like fish) 
run, and people who live near the supply com- 
monly share with those who live farther away. 
Major summer activities are berrying and putting 
up fish. Berries are picked and jarred or frozen, 
to be eaten all \ear m social and ceremonial 
uses 

Fishing has for centuries been the primary 
source of food for the people of Southeast 
Alaska. The summer runs are abundant, and fish 
were traditionally smoked, dried and stored for 
winter use Native people of Southeast Alaska 
have always been innovative, and now also use- 
new technology such as freezers for storing fish. 
There are stories of people using hair driers and 
laundry driers to preserve seaweed at times when 
the weather is too rainy tor drying it in the sun. 
Smokehouses are not as common as a century 
ago. but main families and communities continue 
to smoke and dry fish. The fish are purchased 
from commercial fishermen, caught by sport fish- 
ermen of the family, or are obtained on subsis- 
tence permits. 

Recently, two problems have emerged. Often, 
areas designated for subsistence use are at con- 

LAND IN NATIVI AMERICAN CULTURES 87 



siderable distance from population centers, no 
tliat fishing in these areas may cost more money 
than can be afforded by those who have the 
greatest economic need for subsistence. In recent 
wars, fish hatcheries have given fish away after 
then" eggs have been removed for breeding. Un- 
fortunately, these hatchery fish are not firm 
enough to preserve by smoking, And alter I reev- 
ing they are too mushy to be cooked in any way 
except boiling. Tlingit people are concerned 
about increased reliance on fish hatcheries it 
there are problems with the fish. 

Tlingit people traditionally use the entire fish. 
It fish are filleted, backbones are usually smoked 
or boiled in soup. I leads are baked or boiled in 
soup, but they may also be fermented (tradition- 
ally in a hole on the beach, where they are 
rinsed with each tide change). The result is a 
food traditionally called k'ink'in Tlingit and af- 
fectionately tailed "stink heads in English li may 
be 1 1 tmpared t< > the turning of milk int< > Lim- 
burger cheese in European culture. Likewise, tish 
eggs are not discarded, but are preserved in vari- 
ous ways Most often they are frozen and later 
served in a soup with seaweed (which is pre- 
served by drying and then reconstituted), They 
may be salted (as caviar), or fermented as a dish 
called kahdakw kas'eex 

Fall brings the hunting season, Sitka black 
tailed deer are abundant in most areas, hut man\ 
Tlingit hunters complain that in areas ol heavy 
logging, there are fewer deer. The protective 
cover from deep snow provided In Siika spruce 
and other tall lives in the rainforest allows winter 
grazing on moss, skunk cabbage and other forest 
plants. Where snowfall is heavy, there is risk of 
Starvation lor deer Brown and blac k bear are 
hunted to a much lesser extent, and in some 
communities and families there are cultural ta- 
boos on eating bear meat. Sheep and goal are 
hunted even less Deer skin is used tor drum 
making and lor sewing moccasins and vests. 
Deer hoots are made into dance rattles Mountain 
goat is the traditional source ol wool tor weaving 
Chilkat blankets but is increasingly difficult for 
weavers to obtain. One problem is that wool is 
best lor weaving when the goats are not in sea- 
son, so special permits need to be negotiated 
Hut throughout the deer season, the sharing of 
deer meal is much in evidence, Many Tlingit 
hunters consider it bad kick to keep their first kill 
of the season, and often give the entire animal 
away rather than keep it for themselves As with 
fishing, those who hunt typically share with those 
who do not have access to the resource, and 
younger hunters provide meat to elders who arc- 



no longer able to hunt for themselves. Also as 
with fishing, this practice may put traditionally 
minded Tlingits at odds with the law, because 
bag limits are designed with the individual in 
mind, and not the idea that a person may also 
be hunting or fishing for other people. 

In addition to social sharing, the ceremonial 
distribution of food is at the heart of traditional 
Tlingit ceremonial and spiritual life. Nowhere is 
this better demonstrated — and. perhaps, more 
misunderstood — than in the ceremonial called 
"potlatch" in English, and kou.Oex in Tlingit. 
where many different aspects of Tlingit lolklife 
come together. It is called "invitation" in Tlingit 
because the hosts, who have lost a clan member 
through death, invite guests of the opposite moi- 
ety to a ceremonial The hosts give food And 
other gilts to the guests, thereby ritually giving 
comfort to the spirits oi the departed by giving 
comfort to the living. In Tlingit this is called iht 
naawii x'eix at gugatee — "he will Iced his de- 
ceased Death-bed wishes often specifically 
request that subsistence foods, usually the per- 
sonal favorites of the departed, be served. 

Verbal jnd visual folk art are important parts 
of this traditional ceremonial, especially the rites 
for the removal of grief. During these rites, the 
guests display then clan crests represented on 
carved wooden hats, sewn felt beaded button 
blankets, tunics, woven Chilkat robes, and other 
regalia, called at.OOWm Tlingit. As part ol the 
display ol these- totemic crests, designated orators 
from among the- guests deliver speeches to the 
hosts. The purpose ol the oratory and the display 
of visual art is to oiler spiritual comfort to the 
hosts, and to help remove their grief. 

The visual art becomes the basis of the ora- 
tory. In the guests' speeches the visual art is 
transformed by rhetoric, especially through simile 
and metaphor The frog on the hat. for example, 
is imagined as coming out ol hibernation to re- 
move- the grief of the hosts by taking it back into 
its burrow. The beaded terns on a felt blanket 
(who are identified as the paternal aunts of the 
hosts) fly out from their rookery, drop soothing 
down feathers on the grieving hosts, and fly 
away with (heir grief, taking it back to the nests. 
Through the verbal art of the orator, the spirits 
depicted in the visual art come to the human 
world, give comfort, and remove the grief of the 
living t< i the spirit w( irld. 

fills interaction is also a good example ol the 
reciprocity or balance so important in Tlingit 
world view Hosts and guests comfort each other 
on spiritual, physical and social levels flic hosts 
feed and clothe the spirits of their departed 



cSS LAND IN NATIVl VMERICAN CULTURES 




Austin Hammond, wearing a 
Sockeye Salmon Chilkat robe, 
/</( es singers of several clans 
who gathered at Chilkoot Luke 
Referring to this robe, Austin 
often says, "ire wear our 
history. " The robe depicts clan 
history and serves as claim to 
the land and subsistence use 
Photo bv Richard Dauenhauer 



through gifts of food and clothing to living mem- 
bers of the opposite moiety; and the guests rally 
their range of spirits to give comfort to the hosts 
by removing their grief. As we take care of the 
living, we also take care of the departed. If we 
take care of the living, the living will take care of 
us. If we take care of the departed, the departed 
will take care of us. 

Ritual distribution of food and other gilts is 
explained bv Tlingit elder Amy Marvin in her 
telling of the "Glacier Bay History" (Dauenhauer 
and Dauenhauer f 987:277). Only if food is given 
and eaten with an opposite clan can it go to the 
relative who is mourned. "Only when we give to 
the opposite clan . . . does it become a balm for 
our spirits." We find this passage so powerful that 
we used her Tlingit words and a paraphrase 
translation as the title of our book Haa 
Tuwundagu Yis, for Healing Our Spirit Tlingit 
Oratory (Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990). 
The introduction to this book explains in detail 
the ceremonial oratory, visual art, and distribu- 
tion of subsistence food. 

Meals are an important part of the memorial 
ceremony. Subsistence foods are especially val- 
ued and are carefully preserved for ritual distribu- 
tion. Menus typically include: deer stew, seal 
meat (baked, boiled or smoked), salmon (as 
dryfish, soup, baked or fried), halibut, seaweed 
and salmon egg soup. Many families have special 
pots, often inherited, for preparing ceremonial 
food. At a recent memorial in Sitka, the cooking 
pot for the deer stew was two feet high and three 
feet in diameter! 

It is important to notice here the role of visual 
art in Tlingit folklife. The totemic crests called 
at. now in Tlingit are not detached objects of art 



abstractly displayed in static isolation, but are arts 
ritually displayed in spiritual and social action in 
ceremonials. To the extent that subsistence mate- 
rials are needed for making art objects them- 
selves, subsistence and art become linked. For 
totem carving, one needs large trees; for weav- 
ing, one needs spruce roots and cedar hark. For 
Chilkat weaving one needs mountain goat wool, 
although sheep wool is now commonly substi- 
tuted out of necessity. Traditional dyes are made 
from moss, lichen and minerals 

Subsistence food affects the physical as well as 
the social and spiritual being. Studies and articles 
(Drury 198S; Kennedy 1990 a.b; Tepton 1990; 
Young 1988) have been done on the nutritional 
value of traditional foods and on the impact of 
change in diet from Native American to European 
American food. Obesity, diabetes, cancer and 
heart disease have become much more prevalent. 
These effects can be attributed not only to nutri- 
tional content, but also to the process by which 
food is obtained. The act of getting and preserv- 
ing traditional food keeps one more physically fit 
than shopping at a store (and using leisure time 
to sit by the TV and VCR). 

For reasons of health, social interaction and 
spirituality, subsistence rights and activities are as 
important to the cultural identity of Native Ameri- 
cans as sport hunting and fishing rights are to the 
individual identity of European Americans and 
other citizens of the United States. Because these 
pursuits lie SO close to the spiritual core of .ill the 
people involved and are so deeply rooted in their 
respective folk belief systems, subsistence be- 
comes an extremely emotional and highly politi- 
cal issue. 

Commercial exploitation of land and resources 



LAND IN NAT1VI \MERICAN CULTURES 89 



is basic to European American world view, and 
people with this ethnic heritage often find it frus- 
trating to sec land and resources not used for 
cash profits and "development For Native 
Americans, money has traditionally been an ab- 
straction, whereas theii connection to the land 
has been personal and spiritual Theirs has been 
a subsistence, not a cash, economy Commercial 
pressure also threatens subsistence. Manx Tlingit 
loods are highly valued In the Japanese, and 
Native Americans fear commercial exploitation 
will damage traditional subsistence areas, 

loda\ the subsistence issue remains one of 
the most heated legal and legislative battles in 
Alaska, involving both state and federal agencies. 
\ati\es are protesting a recent policy to deny 
subsistence use in some communities because of 
their size, regardless ol ethnii it\ and lifestyle of 
tin.' residents. Natives often feel bitter that most 
people making the law and setting policy in 
Alaska are newcomers from 'outside" who will 
not retire and die in Alaska They make laws tor 
others and will leave without having to live with 
them. Natives leel that laws involving them are 
bem- made In Non-natives, people from other 
cultures not familiar with subsistence and often 
hostile to it. Natives feel that most subsistence 
laws and policies discriminate against the lifestyle 
and culture ol Native people lor example, be- 
ginning in 1979 it took three years to gel legal 
permission to use traditional gall honks to take 
salmon lor subsistence use Natives often leel 
increasingh disenfranchised on their own land 



■ 



Berger, Thomas 1985 Village Journey The Report of the 
Alaska Native Review Commission New York: Hill 
and Wang 

Brody, Hugh. 1981 Maps and Dreams New York Pan- 
theon Books 

. 1988 Living Arctic Hunters of the Canadian 



North London and Boston Faber and Faber. 

Cogo, Rober and Nora Cogo n.d. Haida Food From 
Land and Sea Distributed by Mariswood lYlueation.il 
Resources, Box 221955, Anchorage, Alaska 99522- 
1955. 

Dauenhauer, Nora Marks ami Richard Dauenhauer. 
1987 lUici Shukd, Our Ancestors Tlingit Oral Narra- 
tives Seattle I niversity of Washington fiess 

1990 Haa Tuwunaagu Yis, for Healing Our 

Spirit Tlingit Oratory Seattle University of Washing- 
ton Press 

Drury, Helen M 1985 Nutrients in Native Foods of 
S( lutheastern Alaska Journal ofEthnobioh >gy 5' - > 87 

inn 

Edenso, Christine n.d. The Transcribed Tapes of 
( hristine Edenso Distributed In' Mariswood Educa- 
tional Resources, Box 221955, Anchorage. Alaska 
99522-1955 

Fienup-Riordan, Ann I u .s s The Nelson Island Eskimo 
Soc nil Structures and Ritual Distribution. Anchorage: 
Alaska Pacific I niversirv Press 

Kenned) . ( ieofl 1990a. Diabetes Linked to Western 
Lifestyle Tundra Times 2 \pnl 

lwub stud\ Indicates Subsistence Foods Aid 
I Icalih Tundra Times i June 

Nelson. Richard K 1969 Hunters of the Northern Ice 
Chicago t ni\crsit\ of ( hicago Press 

1973 Hunters of the Northern Forest Designs 

for Survival Among the Alaskan Kutchin (.din ago 
University of Chicago Press 

P>N/i Wake Prayers to the Raven A Koyukon 



I iew <>/ the Northern Forest Chicagi > University of 
Chicagi i Pi ess 

1989 The Island Within San Francisco North 



Point Press 

Tepton.John 1990 New Lifestyles, Diet Killing More 
Natives Anchorage Times 6 Maj 

Young, T k 1988 Chronk Diseases Among Canadian 
Indians Towards an Epidemolog) of Culture Change. 
Artie Medical Research \1 (Suppl.l):434-44l 



11 I i\ i \\\\ kii w i i i 1 1 la s 



Clans and Corporations: 

Society and Land of the 

Tlingit Indians 



Rosita Worl 



Native Corporations 

Tlingit 

Belong to the land. 

Free to wander anywhere 

Signing pieces of paper 

Village 

Regional CORPORATIONS 

Land in corporations 

Stocks replace fish drying 

Dividends replace hides curing 

Corporate offices replace 

Tribal houses 

Voting replace storytelling 

We are of the land 

Not corporations 

This was forced upon us 

Choices were never ours 

Our forefathers taught us well 

WE WILL SURVIVE 

WE WILL ADAPT 

WE WILL SUCCEED 

WE WILL THRIVE! 

Sherman J. Sumdum 
Chookaneidi of Hoonah 

With the rich resources of their homeland in 
Southeast Alaska, the Tlingit Indians developed 
one of the most complex cultures in indigenous 
North America. With their vast stores of surplus 
goods, they extended their aboriginal commerce 
along ancient trading trails through valleys and 
mountain passes to the northern interior regions 
of Alaska and Canada where they traded with the 
Athabaskans. They traded westward with the 
Eyak and the Chugach Eskimo along the Gull of 
Alaska coast in south-central Alaska. In their (id- 
foot long canoes, they traveled south to the 
Queen Charlotte Islands in Canada to trade with 
the Haida and the Tsimshian on the mainland. 



Relationship to the Land 

The North Pacific Coast has always been a 
complex environment, abundant in resources but 
difficult in access. The indigenous population 
developed knowledge of their habitat, a special- 
ized technology, and well-organized productive 
labor units to maximize the sustainable exploita- 
tion of the environment. Elements that the native 
population could not control by physical means 
were appeased through spiritual rituals. An abun- 
dant environment, an efficient extractive technol- 
ogy, and extensive methods of food preservation 
for later use allowed them to pursue a broad 
spectrum ot activities. 

A house group consisting of a chief his broth 
ers and their wives, children and maternal neph- 
ews was the basic production unit. Male children 
over the age of ten moved into their mothers 
brother's house and received a rigorous course of 
training from their maternal uncles. The house 
group had a well-defined organization of labor, 
which assigned its members various tasks in 
hunting, fishing, gathering, preparing and pre- 
serving their foods. All members of the house 
were expected to work. Grandparents took care 
of children too young to help, while their moth- 
ers gathered and stored foods for future use. The 
cycle of production was determined by the sea- 
sonal availability ol resources As long as fish 
were running, men harvested them, and women 
hung them up to smoke or drv 

Like most American Indian tribes, the Tlingits' 
relationship to nature is rooted in their religious 
systems. According to the ancient beliefs ol the 
Tlingit. animals, like humans, are endowed with 
spirits. These ideas were the basis of their behav- 
ior towards animals; people felt a form of kinship 
with them. Hut their beliefs did not prevent then- 
effective, sustainable exploitation of the environ- 
ment and its wildlife. < )n the one hand, they 
were skilled hunters, fishermen and foragers who 
effectively utilized their environment; and on the 

LANDINNATIVl VMERICAN CULTURES 91 



other hand, they revered their environment and 
attributed their success in its exploitation to the 
spirits and deities which abounded in their world. 

The distinctive arts of the Tlingit and the 
Northwest Coast Indians were visual symbols of 
their relationships to one another and to nature. 
They mastered the use of horn. hone, stone, 
wood, skins, furs, roots and bark to satisfy their 
utilitarian and aesthetic needs. Their woodwork- 
ing was unrivaled among American Indian tribes. 
Artistically inspired by their relationship to the 
environment, Tlingit adorned their bodies jmA 
homes with symbols of their real and supernatu- 
ral world. 

Historical Overview 

Their rich environment and their social and 
cultural strengths enabled Tlingit to confront the 
initial arrival of western explorers and traders in 
174] much on their own terms Fur trading was 
conducted from the ships thai frequented Tlingit 
communities. Once tenuous peace agreements 
had been established between Tlingit and Rus- 
sians, trading posts were built in Yakutat in 1796 
and then Sitka in 1799 (Krause 1956). Tlingit used 
the goods they received in trade to enrich their 
society. 

but nothing in their shamans or herbalists' 
repertoire of medical care could resist the waves 
ol infectious disease that the new visitors brought 
to their shores The Tlingit aboriginal population, 
which is estimated at near 15,000, was reduced 
by more than 50% after the great smallpox epi- 
demic of f835-1840 (Boyd 1990; De Laguna 
1990). With several villages reduced by as much 
as two-thirds, social and economic systems al- 
most ceased to function. 

Another significant element ol their culture 
was undermined, and new religions gained influ- 
ence, when the Tlingit learned that then- shamans 
were powerless to combat the smallpox Father 
Veniaminov observed thai three months before 
the smallpox epidemic a Tlingil forced t<> submit 
to the needle probably would have torn the very 
flesh horn his vaccinated arm but when the 
Tlingit saw that Russians vaccinated against small- 
pox survived, they clamored to be vaccinated. 
i >nce the) realized its effectiveness, they also 
began to accept the Russian I >rthodox faith at the 
expense of their own religion (Fortuine 1989) 
The Tlingit who had scoffed at many ol the ways 
ot the white men now sought the establishmenl 
< 'I i hurches and schi >ols. 

The process ol social disintegration heightened 
alter American jurisdiction was established in 
L867. Military forces brought other diseases ,\iid 



vices, but perhaps more significantly they intro- 
duced a new legal system that suppressed Tlingit 
customar) property laws and rights and paved 
the way lor permanent American settlements and 
economic expansion into Tlingit territory. 

In 1878 two salmon canneries were estab- 
lished at Sitka and Klawock followed by ten 
more in the next decade (Gruening 1968). And 
unknowingly, an Auk Tlingit named Kaawaa'ee 
unleashed the 1880 stampede into Southeast 
Alaska by showing Joe Juneau and Dick Harris — 
now credited as discoverers in most historical 
accounts — where gold could be found (Worl 
| l )')ii) 'The biggest gold mill in the world was 
later established in Juneau (Gruening L968). The 
1 nited States recognized the Tlingit as the rightful 
owners of the land under aboriginal title, but 
ironically, did not allow them to file gold claims 
on their own land because they were not citizens 
of the United States The traditional hunting m^\ 
fishing economy that had supported the rich 
culture of the Tlingil was giving wax to a new 
economic order, which they could neither control 
socially or share in economically. 

Land Claims 

< lathering the inner strengths that had given 
rise to this proud society, the Tlingit entered the 
20th century They were undaunted by losses — 
epidemics, Russian occupation, gold rush stam- 
pede, bombardments ot then villages by the 
Navy, depletion ol fish ami wildlife, and dispos- 
sl'ssk >n ( )f their am estral lands — w Inch might 
have demoralized other people They strove to 
learn and use the institutions i >t the westerners to 
protect then society; but at the same time, the) 
retained the elements of their ancient culture they 
deemed appropriate lor the modern era 

They repeatedly brought their blankets 
aeli irned with clan i rests i< > Washingti in, D.C. 
They showed Congressmen these blankets, which 
served as then title to the land. They told the clan 
stories and sang the songs that recorded the his- 
tory ( if ownership of their territories. With a 
highly developed system ol customary property 
law s, a pi iwerlul i < >n\ u In in i >t their inherent 
rights to their land, and a strong love for then 
homeland, they successfully appealed to the 
sense ol fairness and justice i >l American jurispru- 
dence The) achieved an unprecedented settle- 
ment with Congress and secured legal title to 
their land 

From the time of their first contact with Euro- 
peans, the Tlingit resisted outside claims on then 
land. They did not allow the first Europeans who 
set toot on their shores to leave. Thev removed a 



92 LA 



xn ix x\u\i wii ui< \\ i i i 1 1 la s 



cross the Spaniards left in 1775 as a sign of their 
claim to Alaska. They extracted payment from the 
Spanish not only for the fish they brought to 
them but also for the water the Spaniards got for 
themselves (Krause 1956). From the time the 
United States and Russia signed the Treaty of 
Cession in 1867, the Tlingit protested the foreign- 
ers' assertion of ownership. They argued that if 
the United States wanted to purchase Alaska then 
they should negotiate with its rightful owners. 
The Haida joined with the Tlingit to pursue a 
land claims settlement with the United Slates. 
They relentlessly pursued compensation lor the 
land the United States forced them to surrender. 

The Southeast Alaska Indians attained two 
separate land settlements with the United States: 
the first, a judicial settlement in 1968 through the 
U.S. Court of Claims; and the second, a legislative 
compact through an Act of Congress in 1971. The 
Tlingit and Haida used the first settlement of $7.5 
million to establish the Central Council Tlingit 
and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska. Its primary 
function is to promote the social and educational 
welfare of its tribal members. 

The second settlement achieved by the Tlingit 
and Haida was an unprecedented land settlement 
with America's indigenous populations. Its 
uniqueness was not in the size of the settlement, 
but rather in the means by which it would be 
accomplished. Under the Alaska Native Claims 
Settlement Act of 1971 (ANCSA), Congress or- 
dered that the Alaska Natives form corporations 
to administer their land award. Clearly, the intent 
was economic assimilation. In previous judg- 
ments with American Indians, the United .states 
itself acted as a trustee that held land for tribes 
under a reservation system. 

Tribal Corporations 

With an entrepreneurial drive and vigor wor- 
thy of their ancestors, the Tlingit and Haida ea- 
gerly joined the market economy with their new 
corporations. Under ANCSA, the Tlingit and 
Haida Indians reclaimed ownership of did. t<SO 
acres of land in Southeast Alaska. They were 
compensated approximately $200 million for the 
2 million acres of land that were not covered by 
the first land claims settlement. They were re- 
quired to establish regional village And urban 
corporations to implement their land claims set- 
tlement. 

While the regional, village and urban corpora- 
tions are autonomous, they are made interde- 
pendent through a unique land ownership 
scheme. Each village and urban corporation was 
awarded title to 23,040 acres of land, but they 




Fish continues /<> be the primary source of food for 
native peoples of southeastern Alaska However, in 
recent years, subsistence practices hare been limited by 
g< wernmental regulations Areas designated for subsis- 
tence fishing may be far away from home A subsis- 
tence fisherman skillfully fillets the fish to prepare for 
smoking ami drying Photo by Richard Dauenhauer 



hold title only to the surface estate. The regional 
corporation, Sealaska, holds title to the subsur- 
face estate of all village and urban corporation 
lands, in addition to its own 300,000 acres. 

Each Tlingit and Haida is enrolled as a share- 
holder in the regional corporation. In addition, 
those residing in a village or in Sitka and Juneau 
were also eligible to enroll as members of their 
respective village or urban corporations. How- 
ever, a large number of Tlingit and Haida were 
not enrolled as members of village or urban cor- 
porations because they resided outside their 
home village or in the five communities that did 
not receive land. They are classified as "At Large 
shareholders enrolled only as members of 
Sealaska Corporation. The five landless villages 
recently organized to pursue their just land enti- 
tlements. These villages were unjustly denied 
land on the basis that non-Tlingit and non-Haida 
residents were a majority of the population in the 
communities. 

While the corporations were organized to be 



LAM > IN \A IIVE AMERICAN CULT! IRES 93 



profit-making, shareholders also asserted other 
cultural values. A 1981 survey of Sealaska share- 
holders indicated they felt Sealaska should be 
more than a profit-making company that provides 
dividends to its shareholders. They insisted that 
the corporation provide jobs, educational assis- 
tance, support for cultural activities and special 
programs for the elders In response, the elected 
boards of directors have devoted themselves to 
social as well as business matters. The regional 
corporation, Sealaska. calculates that as much as 
25% of its annual operational costs are for social 
programs affecting its shareholders. Many of the 
village and urban corporations have organized 
separate charitable foundations to promote the 
cultural heritage of their shareholders. Others 
have established educational endowments or 
generous scholarship funds for shareholders. 
Perhaps the single most important issue is the 
protection of subsistence hunting and fishing. 
The corporations have taken the lead in oppos- 
ing various attempts over the past several years 
to undermine the subsistence priority rights of 
rural residents, who are primarily Native. 

The corporations have been successful in vary- 
ing degrees One corporation filed lor protection 
under bankruptcy laws, while others have been 
extremely successful and have been able to pro- 
vide substantial monetary distributions to their 
shareholders. Financial consultants continue to 
advise the corporations that the\ cannol success- 
fully combine business and tubal practices in 
their corporate operations and locus. Tlingil and 
Haida continue to develop new tonus . >| tribal 
corporations. They seek new ways i it accom- 
plishing their economic objectives while at the 
same time fulfilling the social and cultural re- 
sponsibilities they acquired when they received 
title to their ancestral lands 



ad Further Readings 

Blackman, Margaret B. 1990 Haida: Traditional Cul- 
ture In Handbook of North American Indians 
Northwest Coast ed Wayne Suttles Volume 7, pp. 
240-260 Washington, D.C. .Smithsonian Institution 

Boyd, Robert T 1990, Demographic History. 1774- 
1874 In Handbook of North American Indians 
Northwest < oast, ed Wayne Suttles. Volume 7 . pp. 
135-148 Washington, D.C: Smithsonian Institution 

Drucker, Philip 1965. Cultures of the North Pacific 
Coast San Francisco Chandler Publishing Com- 
pany 

Fortuine, Robert. 1989 Chills and Fever, Health and 
Disease in the Early History of Alaska Anchorage 
University of Alaska Press 

Gruening, Ernest 1968 The State of Alaska The State 

ill Mask. i \c\\ York Random House 

Jonaitis, Aldona 1986 Art of the Northern Tlingil Se- 
attle aiiA London I niversiDj of Washington Press 

Krause, Aurel 1956 The Tlingit Indians Results of a 
In/' l<> the Northwest (.nasi if American and the 
Bering Straits Translated In 1'rna Gunther, Ameri- 
can Ethonological Society. Seattle University of 
Washington Press 

Murray, Peter 1985, The Devil and Mr Duncan Victo- 
ria, British Columbia: Sono Nis Press 

Niblack, Albert P 1890 The Coast Indians of Southern 
Alaska ,in<.\ Northern British Columbia Annual 
Report of the I S National Museum of 1881 Wash- 
ing!! m. D.C 

Oberg, Kalervo 1973 The Social Economy of the Tlingit 
Indians Seattle and London I niversity of Washing- 

ti in Press 

Worl, Rosita 1990 History of Southeastern Alaska 
Since 1867 In Handbook of North American Indi- 
ans Vorthwest Coast, ed Wayne Suttles Volume 7, 
pp 149-158 Washington, D.C Smithsonian Institu 

lion 



Rosita Wcrl. Yeidiklatsok, /s</< hilkal Tlingit She is an 
■ and a member of the Thunderhird clan and 
\e from Kluhu an sin- /•> a child of the Sockeye < Ian 
Her spirit is the shark she ira\ named in cnithropi 
al Harvard I niversity and has lectured and published 
extensively mi A •tllures 



94 



LAND l\ \M l\l Wll KH \\ (III! RES 



Ethno-Development 
in Taquile 



Kevin Healy 



Peru'.s Taquile Island, 13,000 feet above sea 
level, is set against spectacular mountain scenery 
of the Lake Titikaka basin. Quechua speaking 
Taquilenos farm steep, eroded hillsides and catch 
fresh trout, pejerrey and catfish for their island 
economy. Some islanders are master boatbuilders 
for the Aymara and Quechua communities on the 
Peruvian side of Lake Titikaka. 

Taquile's geography and vibrant lolk culture 
attracts rugged tourists from around the globe. 
Over the past 15 years, the Island's 1,201) resi- 
dents have developed a model for Native Ameri- 
can community control of tourism, frequently a 
source of cultural distortions in societies the 
world over. In Taquile, islander control of tour- 
ism has helped them maintain a strong sense of 
cultural integrity while adding economically to 
their community. Their local enterprise includes 
motorboat transportation, housing, restaurants, 
handicraft stores, a local museum and tour guide 
services. By working through local families and 
community organizations, islanders maintain a 
scale of tourist activity consistent with a people- 
to-people approach and invite visitors to appreci- 
ate their local life and cultural values. The work- 
ings of this system has insured an equitable distri- 
bution of the economic benefits and dynamic 
practices of peasant self-management. 

Taquilenos' everyday attire attests to their 
thriving weaving tradition. Combining dominant 
Inca reds, Andean geometric symbols and other 
fanciful designs, they are among the best weavers 
in Peru. As a cottage industry weaving provides 
economic benefits to everyone on the Island. On 
ground looms women weave woolen belts, bags 
and ponchos of all sizes, while on treadle looms 
men weave cloth for peasant shirts. Men also knit 
vests and stocking caps. 

Through their ethno-development strategy ol 
tourism and textiles under Andean community 
control, Taquile has changed from one ol I lie- 
poorest Lake Titikaka communities to become 
one of its better-off during the past 20 years. 
Outside support for Taquile has come from the 
Inter-American Foundation, a congressionally 



supported aid agency, which supports alternative 
community empowerment projects for socio- 
economic change. 

Kevin Healy teas a Peat e < orps volunteer on Taquile 
Island in the Lite sixties He subsequently wrote a book 
about rural development in Bolivia and since 1978 as 
a grant officer with the Inter-American Foundation has 
been funding alternative socio-economic development 
projects in the Andes, especially Bolivia lie has degrees 
fmni Notre Dame, Georgetown ami Cornell 




*!$mm 



m^>% 



■* 

** 



."*%■— 





Weaving is a major sot nil ami economic activity mi the island 

of Taquile in Lake Titikaka, /'em ( >n a patio surrounded by 

living quarters a weaver spins sheep's wool with a traditional 

drop Spindle Ph In Olivia Cadaval 

LAND IN NATIVl \MERII \\ i I I 1 1 RES 95 



The Suka Kollus: 

Pre-Columbian Agriculture 
of Tiwanaku 

Oswaldo Rivera Sunclt 

translated by Charles //. Roberts 



The Bolivian highlands (altipland) lie between 
the eastern and western mountain ranges of the 
Andes; many valleys and profound ravines stretch 
down to the Amazon jungle toward the east, and 
to the desert coasts ol the Pacific toward the 
west. Here, people domestic. ited the llama and 
alpaca; they followed them in then permanent 
search for renewed pastures to the highlands in 
the hot months and crossed the Andes to the 
valleys in other seasons. The fate ol Andean 
peoples is inextricably bound up with that of the 
South American camelidae (alpacas, llamas, vicu- 
nas, and guanacos), which provide wool, leather, 
meat, bones, fat, and excrement for fuel, jnd 
which are also used as beasts of burden 

With the advent of crop farming, people be- 
came sedentary. Solidarity in communal work 
was fundamental to the life of the community, 
which had a non-hereditary form ol government. 
The aylluia local descent group) was the bask 
form of social organization; it persists in the rural 
communities of Bolivia to this day. Exogamous 
marriage was a unifying factor creating and sus- 
taining links ol kinship among the separate 
ayllus. 

( her the centuries major changes took plate 
in the Andes. The vast Andean state of the Ti- 
wanaku arose. Experimentation produced an 
extraordinary agricultural technology, known as 
the suka kollus (raised agricultural fields), which 
were complemented by livestock production and 
fishing in Lake Titikaka. One of the greatest suc- 
cesses was the cultivation of potatoes; indeed, 
Bolivian archeologist Carlos Ponce has called 
Tiwanaku the "Culture of the Potato." A confed- 
eration of ayllus governed under a non-hereditary 
council. The original Tiwanaku village became 
the major city with approximately 100,000 inhabi- 
tants spread across 600 hectares (about 2.5 
square miles), tied to a network of other cities 
and villages of Tiwanaku society. Religion en- 
compassed all activities, including art. 



Beginning in approximately 1150 A.D. climatic 
changes reduced agricultural yields in the Boliv- 
ian highlands The social organization of the 
Tiwanaku collapsed, the state disintegrated, and 
its extensive territories were fragmented. The 
highlands could support only a subsistence econ- 
omy; agricultural technologies were lost. The 
arrival of the Spaniards, who were more inter- 
ested in exploiting minerals than in cultivating 
the land, was the final blow. An agricultural 
people became a mining people. Ever since, the 
domestic economy of the highlands has revolved 
around a hunger-based agriculture 

In 1978, researchers Alan Kolata and Oswaldo 
Rivera traveled throughout the vast plains of 
Kohani Pampa in the Andes, beginning an arche- 
ological research project which years later would 
lead to the \\ ila-|awira Interdisciplinary Archeol- 
ogical Project. Subsequently, geographers such as 
William Denevan and others discovered ruins of 
pre-Columbian agricultural works on the banks 
of Lake Titikaka. The initial exploration and exca- 
vation ol small mounds led to archeological re 
search in the pre-Columbian area of the city of 
Lukurmata. The objective of this study was to 
investigate the agricultural and fish-farming sys- 
tems of the ancient Andean society, This city, 
considered the third leading urban center ol the 
Tiwanaku culture, is located near the pre-Colum- 
bian agricultural systems. 

During explorations of these raised fields, the 
question arose as to whether these agricultural 
works and ancient technology in general could 
have been capable ol generating sufficient wealth 
for the development of Tiwanaku civilization 
L'ntil then, their productivity had not been quan- 
tified. At the same time. Ignacio Garaycochea and 
Clark Erickson were conducting similar research 
work in the area of I'uno, Peru. They were the 
first to rehabilitate and plant the raised fields. 
These fields yielded a hefty crop, outstripping the 
usual production of contemporary peasants. 



96 LAND l\ NATIVE AMERII AN ( ULTURES 




Today native communities in the high plateau region of the Andes, with the assistance of anthropologists, archeologists 

and agronomists, are recovering the ancient raised-field technology of their ancestors Local farmers pin in a 

mink. i. or communal work group, to plant the raised field Photo bj Alan Kolata 



In 1986 reconstruction of the agricultural fields 
was begun by peasant families in several commu- 
nities in the area of Tiwanaku. The peasants were 
skeptical. Previous technological transfer projects 
undertaken by development organizations had 
led only to poor harvests and experiences of 
failure. The lands near the ancient structures had 
long been abandoned; the peasants did not recall 
that they had ever been planted. They were 
being used as pasture for livestock. Some peas- 
ants told us that the seeds would rot because of 
the excessive moisture of the land and that the 
open fields offer no protection from frost. Never- 
theless, when told about the agriculture of their 
awichns (grandparents or ancestors) in the nay- 
nipacba (ancient, pre-Columbian times) the ma- 
jority felt a special sympathy for the project and a 
pride in their reaffirmed identity. Leaders such as 
Roberto Cruz from the community of Chukara. 
Bonifacia Quispe from Lakaya Alta. and Martin 
Condori of Kiripujo accepted the project on their 
lands. In order to recover the fields, organized 
groups of community members dug and rebuilt 
channels and mounds, collecting the artifacts 



uncovered in the process. Most of the project 
effort went into the fields of Lakaya in 1987, and 
the productivity obtained was t2.S tons/hectare, 
as compared to 2.S tons hectare obtained by the 
same community members on surrounding lands. 
Although this figure has not been equalled, yields 
continue to reflect the superiority of pre-Colum- 
bian technology. 

The recovery of technology used in the same- 
place but at an earlier time is a task for rural 
society. The well-being of future generations will 
depend on their own involvement and effort. 



( )swaldo Rivera Sundt /*■ Direi tor of the National 
Archeology Institute (INAR) in Bolivia For 16 years he 
has been research archeologist ttiul clue/ executive oj 
the Planning Office at INAR Since 1978. he has worked 
with l>i Man Kolata from the I 'niversity of Chicago in 
the recovery of pre ( olumbian agricultural techniques 
lie is ( o Director of the multidisciplinary arcbeologn til 
project Wila-Jawira and Director of the program for the 
recovery of the pre-Columbian agricultural fields, 
Rehasuk, and Founding Professor oj the Rural 
Academic University in Tiwanaku 



LAND IN NATIVl UV1ERICAN CULTURES 97 



Los Suka Kollus: 

La Agricultura Precolombina 
del Tiwanaku 



Oswaldo Rivera Sundt 



El altiplano esta definido por dos cadenas 
elevadas de montanas a ambos lados y muchos 
valles y profundas vegas que van a terminal .1 la 
selva amazonica por el este y a las deserticas 
costas del Pacihco por el oeste. 

El hombre domestico a la llama y la alpaca, 
siguiendolas en su permanente busqueda de 
pastos renovados; subiendo a las alturas en los 
meses calidos, y en otras estaciones, 
trasponiendo la cordillera para llegar a los valles. 
Una misma suerte une al hombre andino y al 
camelido cine provee de lana. cuero, tame, blue- 
ses, cebo y excremento para combustible y es 
tambien el animal de carga. 

Con la domesticacion de las plantas, el 
hombre se vuelve sedentario. La vida de la 
comunidad andina se desarrolla dentro de pa- 
trones de solidaridad en el trabajo comunitario, 
bajo una forma de gobierno rotative 

El ayllu fue la organizacion social basica que 
germinara \ perdura aun en las comunidades 
rurales bolivianas actuales. El matrimonio ex- 
ogamico era el factor esencial que aseguraba la 
vinculacion entre tiyllus\ daba a la culture una 
homogeneidad de pensamiento y accion. 

A (raxes de los siglos transcurren grandes cam- 
bios en el escenario andino. Surge el vasto es- 
tado andino del Tiwanaku. 

I na creciente experimentacion agricola des- 
emboca en una extraordinaria tecnologia, la de 
los siikd kollus, complementada por la ganaderia 
ile camelidos y la explotacion de productos 
piscicolas del lago Titikaka. Uno de los mayores 
exitos fue el cultivo de la papa, lo que eon razon 
lii/i) calificar al arqueologo boliviano Carlos 
Ponce a Tiwanaku como la Cultura de la Papa. 
Se forma la confederacion de ayllus, gobernando 
bajo un consejo de caracter no hereditario. La 
aldea inicial se convirtio en una ciudad comple- 
tamente planificada con aproximadamente 
loo. 000 habitantes en una area de 000 hectareas 
Lo religioso relaciona todas las actividades in- 

98 I \ND IN NATIVl AMERII AN CUL II KI s 



cluyendo el arte, dentro de la expresion de pen- 
samiento colectivo. 

Alrededor del ano HSo se inician cambios en 
el clima del planeta que da como resultado en el 
altiplano boliviano un bajo rendimiento agricola. 
La organizacion social del Tiwanaku se desmo- 
rona, el Estado se disuelve y sus extensos territo- 
ries se dispersan. El altiplano vuelve a una eco- 
nomia de subsistencia y se pierden tecnologias 
agricolas. La llegada de los espanoles, quienes se 
interesaron mas en la explotacion de minerales 
que en los productos cultivados de la tierra es el 
golpe final. Un pueblo agricultor se convirtio en 
minero v la economia del altiplano desde en- 
tonces giro en torno a una agricultura de 
hambre. 

En 1978, los investigadores Alan Kolata y 
( )swaldo Rivera recorren la extensa planicie cle 
Kohani Pampa, iniciando un trabajo arqueologico 
que, anos mas tarde, formara el Proyecto Agroar- 
queologico Interdisciplinario Wila-Jawira. Mas 
tarde, geografos como William Denevan y otros, 
descubren en las margenes del lago Titikaka los 
restos de construcciones agricolas precolombi- 
nas. La exploracion y excavacion inicial cle 
pequenos monticulos, condujo posteriormente a 
los trabajos de investigacion arqueologica en el 
area precolombina cle Lukurmata. con el ob- 
jetivo de estudiar los sistemas agricolas y piscico- 
las de la antigua sociedad. Esta ciudad. consid- 
erada como el tercer centra urbano cle la cultura 
riwanaku, se encuentra cerca cle los sistemas 
agricc ilas precolombinos. 

Durante exploraciones cle los campos agrico- 
las surgio la interrogante sobre si estas construc- 
ciones, y la tecnologia en general, serian capaces 
cle general rique/a suticiente para el desarrollo 
cle Tiwanaku Hasta ese momento no se hahia 
cuantificado el rendimiento. Paralelamente, los 
investigadores [gnacio Garaycochea y Clark 
Erickson, realizaban labores similares en el area 
de Puno. PeriTv lograron asi la primera rehabili- 




Las comunidades bolivianos en las 
alia pampas del Tiwanaku que 
rodean el lago Titikaka cultivan 
principalmente tuberculos. Estos 
cultivos incluyen variedades de 
papa. oca. babas y quinua que es 
an cereal de alta proteina. Aqui un 
grupo de mujeres selecciona papas 
para el consumo bogareno. para el 
comercio, para preparar chufio, o 
para la semilla. F< >t< > de < )swaldo 
Rivera Sundt 



tacion de camellones que resulto en una notable 
produccion que superaba la produccion que 
solian obtener los campesinos. 

A partir de 1986 se inicia la reconstruction de 
campos agricolas, trabajo realizado en varias 
comunidades y familias campesinas del area de 
Tiwanaku. Las malas cosechas y experiments de 
transferencias tecnologicas fracasadas. realizadas 
por diversas instituciones de desarrollo, los 
habian tornado incredulos. Los terrenos donde 
hoy yacen las antiguas construcciones siempre 
habian estado abandonados; y los campesinos no 
recordaban que alguna vez hubieran sido sem- 
brados. Ahora son tierras de pastoreo de ganado. 
Otros campesinos nos advenian que la semilla se 
pudriria por la excesiva humedad de la tierra, 
que los campos son abiertos y no ofrecen pro- 
teccion a las heladas. Sin embargo, la mayoria 
sentia una especial simpatia hacia el proyecto 
cuando se les hablaba de la agriculture practicada 
en el nayrapacha de los tiempos precolombinos 
por sus awichus. sus abuelos o antecesores 
Sentian verdadero orgullo por su identidad reafir- 
mada. Hubo lideres como Roberto Cruz de la 
comunidad de Chukara, Bonifacia Quispe de 
Lakaya Alta, y Martin Condori de Kiripujo, 
quienes entre otros aceptaron el proyecto en sus 
tierras. Los campos de Lakaya, en 1987, fueron 
los mas atendidos por el proyecto logrando un 
rendimiento de 42.5 toneladas por hectare. i. 
frente a las 2.5 toneladas obtenidas por los mis- 
mos comunarios en hectareas circundantes. En 



anos posteriores no se ha igualado esa cifra, pero 
los demas rendimientos marcan la superioridad 
de la tecnologia precolombina frente a la actual. 

Las investigaciones arqueologicas se han for- 
talecido con la incorporation de disciplinas 
cientificas, analiticas y tecnicas. Vocablos des- 
conocidos como suka kollus hoy se han vuelto 
palabras tecnicas. creandose derivaciones como 
terrenos sukakolleros. Para tratar de explicar el 
fenomeno del rescate tecnologico agricola se han 
ensayado una serie de conceptos, como arqueo- 
logia aplicada. agroarqueologia, agroecologia, 
revolution verde del altiplano. 

Se ha iniciatlo una investigation cientifica 
sobre el conocimiento del pueblo tie Tiwanaku, 
como alternativa para ti desarrollo del altiplano. 
El rescate tecnologico en el tiempo, y su transfer- 
encia en el mismo espacio, le corresponde a la 
sociedad rural. De su participacion y esfuerzo 
depende el bienestar tie las ruturas generaciones. 



( )swaldo Rivera s////<// es Director del Instituto Nacional 
de Arqueologia (INAR) de Bolivia Durante 16 anos fue 
investigador arqueologico vjefe de Planificacion del 
INAR Desde 1978 colabora con el Dr Alan Kolata de 
la I niversidad </<■ < hicago. en el rescate tie la 
tecnologia agricola precolombina Es Co-Direc t<»~ del 
Proyei /" Agroarqueologico Multidisciplinario \\ ila- 
Jawira v Direi tor General del Programa de 
Rei uperai ion de i ampos Agricolas Precolombinos 
REHASUK. yelfundador v profesor de la Universidad 
Academica ( dmpesina de Tiwanaku 



I \\l> IN \\II\I AMERICAN CULT! RES 



99 



Ethno-Development 
Among the Jalq'a 



Kevin Healy 



The Jalq'a are an Andean ethnic group scat- 
tercel among 30 communities in the remote, rug- 
ged mountainous area in the Chuquisaca region 
of south-central Bolivia. Families eke out a living 
from farming ancl pasturing and earn supplemen- 
tal") income from low paying work in the city 
Since 1986, this subsistence economy has 
changed tor a growing number ol female weav- 
ers (now icaching 380) and their families. To- 
gether with a Bolivian organization, Antropologos 
del Sur Andino (ASUR), and support from the 
Inter-American foundation. Jalq'a's community 
organizations have begun a revival of a unique 
textile tradition. The Jalq'a's animal motifs are 
singular among the weaving traditions ol thou- 
sands of Andean communities; then ajsusov 
w omens overskirts depict a dreamlike world of 
stylized creatures (condors, monkeys, foxes, 
lions, hats and cows) in reversible images 

in the past, outside commercial pressures 
eroded handicraft standards, and foreign dealers 
bought up the remaining line textiles in Jalq'a 
communities. In addition, drought damaged pas- 
ture lands causing a drastic drop in the wool 
supply. 

The weaving revival began as an economic 
development strategy to reverse the decline in 
their folk art and to increase cultural sell-esteem 
among the population, creating a base for social 
change Weavers together with ASUR have in >w 
organized weaving workshops, purchased raw 
material, acquired elves, opened a store in the 
i it\ of Sucre and held exhibits in museums to 
promote their work throughout Bolivia As a 
result, the market demand in Bolivia for their 
ajsus has grown rapidly. The Jalq'a have learned 
bookkeeping and administrative skills for their 
burgeoning enterprise through AS1 IR's multi- 
cultural community educational program. Organ- 
izational and business know-how are as essential 
tn their ambitious future programs as are recov- 
ery of weaving skills and the maintenance of a 
strong sense of ethnic identity. 



Their weaving revival has m\ innovative 
method of using color photographs of Jalq'a 
pieces attained from private collections. Jalq'a 
families use the photographs as guides to recover 
their rich repertoire of cultural motifs, as they 
weave for the new community enterprise to- 
gether in their outdoor patios. They have been 
successfully creating weavings for sale from these 
traditional models and drawing inspiration from 
them for new pictorial compositions. 




AJalq'a weaver from the community of Potolo m the province of 

Chuquisaca, Bolivia, weaves mi her upright loom in the shade 

of the enramada (arbor) in the patio of her home. 

Photo by ' )li\ i.i Cadaval 



loo 



I \\[ I IN NAT1V1 Wll RIl Will II HI s 



A statement by the Hopi Tribal Council on Hopi participation in the 
Quincentenary program of the 1991 Festival of American Folklife 

The Hopi people are a caring people. We arc a patient people We consider ourselves 

stewards of this great land called North America. We bate welcomed people to these 

lands to share its resources, 'through a forum of this type, we hope that others may 

come to understand the Hopi people. Today's lifestyle demands a respite Tl?e Hopi 

can offer this pause in our hectic lives through the sharing of its cultural ways. We 

hope that the visitors trill go away with a better perspective on life . . . 

that while life is a real challenge, life is also simple. 

This is the message of the Hopi. 



The Hopi Dictionary 

Emory Sekaquaptewa 



For the first time in its history, the Hopi lan- 
guage is on the threshold of literacy. A Hopi 
dictionary is being compiled today by project 
teams from Northern Arizona University and the 
University of Arizona in collaboration with the 
Office of Cultural Preservation of the Hopi Na- 
tion. It is near completion. 

The Hopi language has been spoken by 
people who have inhabited the areas of north- 
eastern Arizona for nearly two thousand years. It 
continues to be the foundation of custom, usage 
and ceremonialism, which rely on oral tradition 
for their continued existence. Oral tradition incor- 
porates ritual and ceremonial forms, spatial con- 
text, and drama to create a powerful tool that 
makes an indelible mark on the minds and hearts 
of those participating. The Hopi language, in 
association with rituals, customs and other forms 
of usage, continues to call up memories of the 
past that give meaning to the present and future. 
For this reason, the Hopi people feel confident 
that our language is alive today. 

Why then, the need for a written form of the 
Hopi language? It is a proper question, whether 
literacy in Hopi will enhance its viability in its 
own cultural setting, or will detract from the 
power of the spoken word by undermining its 
use in the traditional context. It is not a technical 
question whether Hopi can be systematically 
written, for that has been practically accom- 
plished. 

But some Hopis and students of Hopi have 
expressed concern about the survival of the lan- 



guage in modern times because of the interven- 
tions in Hopi culture by modern social and eco- 
nomic institutions. Under these prevailing influ- 
ences there is no doubt that the Hopi language is 
threatened with extinction. New generations of 
Hopis want to be, and are becoming, more and 
more involved with the outside world. They seek 
opportunities to meet their own goals in modern 
society. This is the reality of today's Hopi world 
that justifies the writing of our language. 

Those who work on and contribute to the 
dictionary are deeply mindful of the implications 
that written Hopi holds for the future. In addition 
to important cultural-historical perspectives on 
Hopi life that the dictionary can reveal, its stated 
goal is to preserve the language. In so doing it 
will be a reference tool lor producing Hopi litera- 
ture, and thereby assist the continued evolution 
of the language. In this sense, the dictionary ad- 
dresses the concerns of Hopi and non-Hopi 
people about the survival of the Hopi language. 
The dictionary is not intended to replace the oral 
tradition practiced today by establishing a writing 
system. Neither is it an instrument for a revival ol 
Hopi culture, but rather a way to new vistas for 
Hopi studies beyond ethnographic approaches. 



Emory Sekaquaptewa is Direi tor of the American 
Indian Studies Program ill tin' University of Arizona, 
Tucson, (iiul lecturer m anthropology and linguistics 
lie is co-prim ipal with Ekkehardl Molotki and Jeanne 
Masayesva mi the Hopi dictionary project 



LAND IN NATIV1 WIIKh IN CULTURES 



101 



Two Entries from the Hopi Dictionary 



1 ENTRY 


yon|ta 


2 ALPHABETIZER 


yonta 


3 FORM CLASS 


vt.i. 


4 DEFINITION 


be doing s. th. for another in order to obligate the person to 




reciprocate (e.g., plaque weaving, grinding corn, donating 




gifts to be used at wedding). 


5 ENGLISH 




6 MORPHOLOGY 


yon-ta [debtor-REP] 


7 UNDERLYING FORM 


/ yoni -tal / 


8 INFLECTED FORMS 


-tota 


9 COMBINING FORMS 




10 PAUSAL 




11 CROSS-REFERENCE 




12 EXAMPLES 


UNu' pumuy ~{ta}qe oovi pangsoq pumuy amungem put 




yungyaput yawma.£ By taking that plaque to them (for their 




use), I'm obligating them to pay me back in kind. - UNu' ung 




~{ta}niqe oovi ungem yungyaplawni.f 1 want to get you 




indebted to me by weaving a plaque for you. - UHimuwa hita, 




sen m'nghintsakpi'ewakw hintsakqw, hak pangsonen pep put 




engem hita hintsakye', hak pan hakiy ~{ta}ngwu.£ If someone 




does something, for example a wedding, and one goes there to 




do something for that person, one is obligating that person to 




pay back in kind. - UPuma oovi pasat {naa}~{ta}ngwu.£ So 




then they mutually obligate one another (by weaving plaques). 


1 ENTRY 


yotsihaninlta 


2 ALPHABETIZER 


yotsihaninta 


3 FORM CLASS 


vi./vt.i. 


4 DEFINITION 


be grinding corn inadequately due to inexperience, allowing 




some of the large pieces to filter down or slide between 




the metate and the mano. 


5 ENGLISH 




6 MORPHOLOGY 


yotsi-han-i-n-ta 




[push:down:into-grind:corn-Oi-£CAUS-REP] 


7 UNDERLYING FORM 


/ yohtsi haana -i -na -tal / 


8 INFLECTED FORMS 


-tota 


9 COMBINING FORMS 




10 PAUSAL 




11 CROSS-REFERENCE 




12 EXAMPLES 


Or pas okiw naat ~{ta}.£ This poor person still allows large 




pieces of kernels to filter down because of her inexperience. - 




00m qa ~{ta}niya.£ Don't grind inadequately (by overlooking 




some of the larger pieces). 



L02 I \M> IN NATIVl Wll RI< A* IES 



Our Zapotec Ethnic Identity 

Manuel Rios Morales 



We, the Zapotec from the northern mountains 
in Oaxaca, Mexico, are a group related linguisti- 
cally and culturally to other Zapotec groups from 
the valley, the isthmus and the southern moun- 
tains. Even though our dialects differ we share 
the same historical consciousness, a geographical 
space and similar cultural traditions. We use our 
differences and similarities to express our particu- 
lar identity in the context of our national society, 
which is composed of diverse ethnic identities. 

At the regional level our Zapotec identity is 
recognized in language, in culture and in a 
shared geography. At district levels, we, who live 
in the areas of Zoogocho, Yalalag and part of 
Villa Alta y Cajonos, define ourselves as the 
Be'ne'xon, to distinguish from the Be'ne'xisha, 
Zapotec from Talca; the Be'ne'reg, Zapotec from 
the area of Ixtlan and the Be'ne'rashe, Zapotec 
from the Valley. And at the local level, our Zapo- 
tec ethnic identity is defined by the particular 
historical-structural conditions of our communi- 
ties of birth — poverty, exploitation, dialect, local 
culture. 

After more than three centuries of colonial 
destruction, more than a century of political inde- 
pendence with its forces of social disintegration 
and cultural assimilation, and a decade of over- 
whelming modernization in the sixties, our iden- 
tities emerge today with a new strength, a greater 
awareness of self-preservation and human dig- 
nity. Despite the impact of modernization, we 
have maintained important parts of our culture — 
such as our cosmology, our communal organiza- 
tion, our language — all important elements in 
sustaining our identity. 

Zapotec ethnic identity has also been pre- 
served by music. In our region, each town has its 
own music band, small or large. Music is inti- 
mately associated with community life, an impor- 
tant element of social cohesion, a language with 
which to express joy, nostalgia, abundance or 
deprivation. The music of the region is common 
to Zapotec, Mixes and Chinatec groups. It in- 
cludes a variety of marches, waltzes, boleros, 
fantasias, sones and jarabes. These musical 
rhythms are heard in all religious festivities and 
social events. 



Another distinctive trait of Zapotec ethnic 
identity is the social group formed for communal 
work and reciprocal help known as shin-raue 
and gson. Through these native institutions, the 
community meets social needs and collaborates 
in public works when the need arises. Commu- 
nal labor is not only a way of working; it is also 
a strategy for defending identity and sharing re- 
sponsibility which has allowed our peoples to 
survive as distinct groups. 

Recent Zapotec migrations have made the 
Valley of Mexico, the city of Oaxaca, and Los 
Angeles, California, new spaces of conquest and 
establishment of Zapotec cultures. Migration is 
not only the physical removal of our brothers and 
sisters, but also the transfer of traditions, values, 
beliefs, feelings and patterns of day-to-day life 
into the new settlement areas. Beginning in the 
fifties, various migrant voluntary associations 
have emerged: the Zoogocho Fraternal Union in 
Mexico City, the Zoogocho Unifying Front in 
Oaxaca and the Zoogocho Social Union of Los 
Angeles in California. 

As contemporary natives, we recognize the 
great responsibility we have within the structure 
of our national society. We recognize that the 
problem before us is how to overcome the 
contradictions inherent in every dynamic society, 
such as marginalization, domination, discrimina- 
tion, self-contempt and self-degradation. We be- 
lieve that the essence of our identity will endure 
at least 500 more years, but we also recognize 
that if we do not assert our own demands, we 
will continue to have the status of a minority. 



Manuel Rios Morales, a native Zapotec from Zoogocho, 
Oaxaca, is a professor in the master's program in 
Native American linguistic s, sponsored by I he National 
Indigenist Institute (INI), and the < enter for Research 
ami Graduate Studies in Social Anthropology (CIESAS) 
He is a graduate from the Resean h ami Social 
Integration Institute of Oaxaca, and received a master's 
degreefrom the Center for Social Integration in Mexico 
City As a Fellow, he panic ipated in the Program <f 
Community Development in Haifa, Israel He is active 
in education projects for indigenous professionals an J 
in community development research 



LAND IN NATIVE AMERICAN ( ULTURES 



103 



Nuestra Identidad 
Etnica Zapoteca 

Manuel Rios Morales 



Los zapotecos de la Sierra Norte de Oaxaca, 
Mexico, formamos parte de un grupo mayor em- 
parentado, lingiiistica y culturalmente, con zapo- 
tecos del Valle, del Istmo y de la Sierra Sur. Aun- 
que nuestros dialectos difieren, todos nemos 
compartido una misma conciencia historica, un 
espacio geografico especifico, una tradicion cul- 
tural similar. Estos elementos nos han permitido 
reconocer tanto nuestras diferencias como 
nuestras similitudes y expresar de esta forma una 
particular identidad dentro del contexto de 
nuestra sociedad nacional que esta compuesta 
por diversas identidades etnicas. 

Al nivel regional la identidad zapoteca se re- 
conoce en el idioma, la cultura y una geografia 
compartida. Los zapotecos que habitamos en las 
areas de Zoogocho, Yalalag, parte de Villa Aha y 
Cajonos, nos autodefinimos como los be'ne'xon, 
a diferencia del be'ne'xisha, zapotecos eld area 
de Tale a; del be'ne'reg, zapotecos del area de 
(xtlan y del be'ne'rdsbe, zapotecos del Valle. Y 
en el nivel local nuestra identidad etnica zapo- 
te< a esta aun mas definida espe< ificamente por 
las condiciones historico-estructurales de nuestra 
comunidades natales — pobreza, explotacion, 
lengua, dialecto, cultura local. 

Despues de mas tie ties siglos de destruction 
colonial, de mas de un siglo de vida politica 
acompanada por fuerzas sociales de desintegra- 
i ion \ asimilacion cultural y una importante 
epoca de modernizacion en los anos sesenta, 
nuestras identidades emergen hoy eon nuevas 
fuerzas, eon una mayor conciencia de sobre- 
vivencia v de dignidad humana. A pesar del im- 
pacto de la modernizacion, se mantuvieron otras 
partes importantes de nuestra cultura como son 
su cosmovision, su organizacion comunitaria y su 
lengua. 

La identidad etnica zapoteca, tambien se ha 
podido preservar gracias a la importancia que la 
miisica tiene entre nosotros. En nuestra region, 
cada pueblo tiene su propia banda de musica, 



grande o pequena. La musica se encuentra mti- 
mamente vinculacla a la vida comunitaria. es y ha 
sido el elemento de cohesion social por excelen- 
cia, otro lenguaje que puede expresar alegria o 
nostalgia, abundancia o carencia. La musica re- 
gional es comun a los pueblos zapotecos. mixes 
s chinantecos. Incline una variedad de marchas, 
valses, boleros, fantasias y, basicamente, los 
sones v jarabes. Son los generos musicales que 
acompanan a todas las festividades religiosas y 
los grandes acontecimientos sociales de la 
comunidad. 

Otros rasgos distintivos de la identidad etnica 
zapoteca lo constituyen el trabajo comunitario >' 
la ayuda mutua que en nuestro zapoteco se 
conocen como shin-rauey gson. Con estas insti- 
tuciones indigenas el pueblo realiza las diversas 
obras de caracter social v colabora cuando la 
necesidad o el compromiso asi lo requieren. El 
trabajo comunitario, por su contenido y por sus 
implicaciones, const it Live mas que una simple 
forma de trabajo. La comunidad es una estrategia 
de defensa de la identidad. un mecanismo de 
autoidentidad y de responsabilidad que ha per- 
mitido a nuestros pueblos sobrevivir como 
grupi is diferenciadi is, 

Recientes migraciones zapotecas han conver- 
tido el Valle de Mexico, la ciudad de Oaxaca y 
Los \ngeles en California, en nuevos espacios de 
conquista v asientos culturales La migracion no 
es simplemente el desplazamiento fisico de 
nuestros paisanos sino el traslado a las nuevas 
areas, de las tradiciones, de los valores, de las 
creencias, de los sentimientos \" de la vida coti- 
diana. Se dio origen a diversas organizaciones de 
migrantes desde los anos de l l )Sn como son la 
Union Fraternal Zoogochense en la ciudad de 
Mexico, el Frente Unificador Zoogochense en la 
cuidad de Oaxaca y la Union Social Zoogochense 
de Los Angeles en California. 

Los indigenas actuates reconocemos que tene- 
mos una gran responsabilidad dentin de la 



10 I I \M ' I . \ I l\ I Wll I'd w ( I I ri'RES 




Los zapotecas de la sierra 
oaxaquena cultivan en las 
laderas del montey crian 
a ui males. En el pueblo de 
Zoogocbo cultivan cana de 
azucar que procesan en el 
pueblo. Despues de extraery 
hervir el liquido, la melaza es 
vaciada en moldes de madera 
i enfriada. El azucar 
endurecida se envuelve en 
hoja de maiz 
F< )t< i de Manuel Rios 



estructura de nuestra sociedad nacional. El 
dilema que se les presenta hoy a nuestros pueb- 
los es como superar las contradicciones inheren- 
tes a toda sociedad dinamica incluyendo situa- 
ciones o fenomenos tales como la marginacion, 
la dominacion, la discriminacion, el autodespre- 
cio y la autodegradacion. Creemos que la esencia 
de nuestra identidad podra continual por otros 
500 aiios, pero tambien reconocemos que mien- 
tras no seamos capaces de plantear nuestras pro- 
pias demandas, seguiremos manteniendo la con- 
dicion de minoria en el marco de la sociedad 
plurietnica. 



Manuel Rios Morales. Nativo Zapoteca de Zoogocbo, 
Oaxaca, es profesor en elprograma de maestria en 
linguistica indigena, auspiciado por el Instituto 
Nacional Indigenista (INI), y el C entro de Investi- 
gaciones v Estudios Superiores en Antropologia Social 
tCIESASi Graduado del Instituto de Investigacion e 
Integracion Social de < laxaca, ret ibid su maestria del 
( entro de Invest igai ion para la Integracion Social en la 
( iudadde Mexico Bajo beca participo en elPrograma 
tie Desarrollo < omunitario en Haifa. Israel Colabora en 
programas prqfesionales indigenas v de desarrollo 
comunitario de investigai ion 



Cancion Zapoteca 

Recopilacion del Sr. Demetrio Morales Vicente. 



Bene Xoon Neda 

Yeshrio zito zanda 
Yeshrio sdun za neda 
Chguanda tu bsu 
chetga tu retg 
Bente xen rasho 
Bi gazen chura 
Bente xen rasho 
Bi da rish cuiro 
Tu chela, tu gurida 
Tu bxidze da shneba 
Bente xen lasho 
bi gazen shia. 



Soy zapoteco 

De tierras lejanas vengo 

tie tierras desconocidas tambien 

subiendo una cuesta 

bajando otra igual 

quiero que me perdones 

por lt> queyo haga 

quiero que me perdones 

par venir a tu casa. 

I ii abrazoy una caricia 

v un best) nomas yo tepido 

quiero que me perdones 

par h> que te digo. 



vID IN NATIVH AMI RI( \N CI I II RES 1<>5 



Politics and Culture of 
Indigenism in Mexico 

Jose Luis Krafft Vera 

translated by Charles H. Roberts 



In Mexico official "indigenism" began to take 
shape by the 1910s. Its development was influ- 
enced by the great social movement of the 1910 
Mexican Revolution. Indigenism was the political 
means used by the state to attend to the develop- 
ment needs of culturally distinct Mexican popula- 
tions. 

A system of thought known as Mexican Indi- 
genism, which brings together research and so- 
cial action, has become a substantial part of the 
Mexican School of Anthropology. Indigenism is 
also fundamental to an understanding of the pe- 
culiarities of Mexican nationalism. 

Mexican Indigenism has drawn from various 
currents at different times in the 20th century. 
Thus, the incligenist policy is not a finished, per- 
fectly systematized whole. Nevertheless, it has 
provided a model for government policy towards 
indigenous peoples in other Latin American 
countries with large indigenous populations, 
Mexican Indigenism has inspired the establish- 
ment ot Indian institutes in several Latin Ameri- 
can countries, after the First Inter-American In- 
dian Congress held in Patzcuaro, Michoacan, in 
1940 

The initial postulates of indigenism have been 
modified in light of experience; dynamic efforts 
continue to shape indigenism in response to the 
particular developments in the indigenous world. 
Mexican Indigenism has gone through agrarianist, 
educational, and developmentalist — also known 
as integrationist — phases. 

In the last twenty years the outlook for the 
indigenous peoples in Mexico and throughout 
Lai in America has changed significantly. The 
indigenous movement has developed economic. 
political, social and cultural organizations with a 
strategic outlook. Indigenous peoples' growing 
effectiveness stems from their more decisive en- 
gagement of national societies in defense of their 
human rights, collective and cultural. Marginal- 
ized lor over Sou years from the main decision- 



making centers ol government, the indigenous 
resistance in recent years has produced organiza- 
tions that foster respect for and understanding of 
traditional values. These millenary cultures, with 
a powerful wisdom, have been able to survive in 
national societies in which indigenous peoples 
are at the bottom of the economic ladder. 

This display of organizational strength has had 
an impact on the state institutional structures that 
develop indigenous policy today. The National 
[ndigenist Institute (known as INI: Instituto 
Nacional Indigenista) has abandoned the theo- 
retical and practical policy of integrationist indi- 
genism. adapting its actions to the organizational 
renaissance of the indigenous peoples. No longer 
are indigenous initiatives supplanted by state 
agents who underestimate indigenous peoples' 
capacity to manage their own development based 
on their life experiences, plans and capabilities. 

Thus, indigenous peoples play a more promi- 
nent role in society. Their organizational move- 
ment, which encompasses the SO ethnic groups 
that live in Mexico, each with its own culture and 
language, has stated three main principles that 
must be made pari ol the [NTs policy: 

1. Indigenous peoples and communities must 
participate in planning and implementation of 
the INI s programs. 

1. This participation should culminate in the 
transfer of institutional functions and resources 
to indigenous organizations and communities, 
and to other public institutions and social groups 
involved in and committed to incligenist action. 

3. INI must coordinate all of its actions with 
federal, state and municipal institutions, and so- 
cial organizations m\c\ with international agen- 
cies. 

These general principles for governmental 
action by the INI are motivated by a firm resolve 
to break the fetters that inhibit the full and inte- 
gral development of the indigenous peoples of 
Mexico. The indigenous peoples number 8 mil- 



Kio 



I \\l i l\ NATIV 1 AMI Kl< A\ CULTURES 




In the highland communities of Chiapas, textiles represent complex cultural ideas Designs may 

represent the origin of human society or the identity and history of a local community Petrona 

Mendez Intzin, a Tzeltal Maya weaver from Tenejapa in the highlands of Chiapas, brocades on the 

traditional backstrap loom of the region Photo by Ricardo Martinez 



lion in 1991, accounting for over nine percent ot 
the Mexican population, based on projections 
from the 1980 National Census. No other country 
of the Americas has as large an indigenous popu- 
lation as Mexico. 

The key demands raised by the indigenous 
communities and their organizations include 
equal justice and equality in civil rights and obli- 
gations, as required by law for all Mexicans. The 
National Commission of Justice for the Indige- 
nous Peoples of Mexico was established by presi- 
dential initiative in April 1989. This Commission, 
presided over by the Director of the INI, Dr. 
Arturo Warman, is charged with proposing 
changes in the Mexican Constitution, after consul- 
tations with indigenous and other organizations 
involved in development and indigenous affairs. 
These constitutional changes will lead to recogni- 
tion of indigenous cultural rights for the first time 
in the history of independent Mexico. This Presi- 
dential initiative was presented to the Chamber of 
Deputies and the Senate. Article 4 of the 
Constitution is to be amended to recognize that 
Mexico is a multicultural country and that indige- 
nous peoples have specific rights. 

Members of the Ikood, Zapotec, Tzotzil, 
Tzetzal and Lacandon cultures, representing the 
states of Oaxaca and Chiapas, which have the 



highest density of indigenous populations and 
cultures in the country, are participating this 
summer in the Festival of American Folklife. 

This cultural exhibition will offer the public an 
opportunity to learn about indigenous knowledge 
and wisdom of the land and the environment. 
Now that the Western world has begun to turn its 
attention to the environment of the planet, the 
indigenous peoples of the Americas — despite 
having all institutional practices operate against 
their interests for the last 500 years — offer us 
their knowledge of the harmony that must be 
preserved between man and nature. 

The hour of the earth has come, and it is time 
to listen to the indigenous peoples of our Amer- 
ica. The subjugation and discrimination of recent 
centuries will be no more in the new millennium. 
The cultural resistance of indigenous peoples 
should find expression in a full renaissance of 
their indigenous abilities, lor the benefit ol all 
inhabitants of this planet. 

Jose litis Krafft. ethonologist. is Assistant Director for 
Cultural Promotion for the National Indigenist Institute 
(INI) He graduated from the National School of 
Anthropology and History in Mexico City, spe< ializing 
in indigenous cultures of the rainforest, particularly the 
Lacandon region He has published extensively on the 
indigenous cultures oj Mexico 



LAND l\ NATI\ I \MI RI< \N I ULTURES 



107 



Politica y Cultura en el 

Presente Indigena de 

Mexico 



Jose Luis Krafft Vera 



E] Indigenismo oficial en Mexico se formo 
dentro de una tradicion que comienza, por lo 
menos,desde la segunda decada del presente 
siglo, bajo la influencia del gran movimiento 
social que signified la Revolucion Mexicana de 
1910. Este movimiento fue la politica disenada 
por el estado para atender el desenvolvimiento 
integral de las poblaciones consideradas cultu- 
ralmente diferentes. Entre mis representantes 
estan Manuel Gamio, Moises Saenz, Alfonso 
Caso, Alfonso Villa Rojas, Gonzalo Aguirre 
Beltran, Ricardo Pozas, quienes le han dado un 
can/ teorico basico a esc sistema de pensamiento 
denominado indigenismo mexicano. Considerado 
como parte sustancial de la Escuela Mexicana de 
Antropologia, por su caracter inseparable de in- 
vestigacion-accion, se considera Lin nucleo de 
pensamiento fundamental para entender las pe- 
culiaridades intrinsecas del nacionalismo mexi- 
cani 1, 

El indigenismo mexicano se ha nutrido de cor- 
rientes diversas en determinados momentos de la 
historia del presente siglo. Esto impide mostrar la 
politica indigenista como un todo acabado \ 
perfectamente sistematizado, pero ha contribuido 
a tijar las reglas de action <_lcl ambito estatal en 
los parses del subcontinente latino-americano, 
que cuentan con importantes nucleos poblacion- 
ales indigenas, Ma sido base fundamental para la 
fundacion de instituciones indigenistas en 
naciones de la geografia mencionada, despues 
del Primer Congreso Indigenista Interamericano 
celebrado en Patzcuaro, Michoacan, en 1940. 

El indigenismo ha atravesado circunstancias 
concretas habiendo asi modificado sus postula- 
dos iniciales en un afan dinamico de adecuarse a 
los ritmos particulares del andar indigena. Se 
identifican como momentos del indigenismo 
mexicano: el de corte agrarista, el educacional, v 
el desarrollista, tambien conocido como integra- 
cionista, cuyo principal exponente es el Dr. 
Aguirre Beltran. 



En los ultimos veinte afios el panorama al que 
se circunscriben los indigenas del pais, v en gen- 
eral en toda Latinoamerica, ha mostrado modifi- 
caciones considerables. La capacidad organizativa 
indigena se destaca a nivel economico, politico, 
social y cultural observandose una disposition 
estrategica. Para el mundo indigena, su efec- 
tividad radica en una inmersion mas resuelta en 
las sociedades nacionales que los incluyen y 
absorben, y en una defensa de sus derechos 
humanos colectivos y culturales. Marginado de 
las instancias primeras de decision del poder 
gubernamental desde hace medio milenio, en 
anos recientes el poder de resistencia indigena ha 
estable< ido organizaciones que los representen y 
defiendan el respeto v comprension de sus va- 
lores tradu ion. iles Estas culturas milenarias con 
un saber poderoso han logrado sobrevivir en 
sociedades nacionales en las que los indigenas 
ocupan el nivel economico mas bajo. 

Esta demostracion organizativa ha tenido 
repercusion en las esferas estatales encargadas de 
disenar la politica indigenista en el presente. 
V lualmente el [nstituto Nacional Indigenista ha 
abandonado las direcciones teorico-practicas del 
indigenismo integrador para adecuar su accion a 
este renac imicnto organizativo indigena. Se ha 
terminado con la suplantacion de iniciativas 
indigenas por parte de agentes estatales que 
desvalorizaban la capacidad de gestion indigena 
para desarrollar, desde su vivencia, sus proyectos 
principales \ las maneras adec uadas de realizar- 
los 

Esta "puesta al dia" del quehacer indigenista 
con el movimiento organizacional mostrado por 
las ^(> etnias con cultura \ lenguas diferentes que 
habitan nuestro territorio nacional, tiene ties 
principios generales de accion: 

1. La participation de los pueblos y 
comunidades indigenas en la planificacion \ 
ejecucion de los programas de la Institucion Indi- 
genista. 



los 



LAND l\ \ \ll\ I \MI UK A\ i I I II HI s 



2. La participation debe culminar en e] tras- 
paso de funciones y recursos institucionales a las 
organizaciones y colectividades indigenas, asi 
como a otras instituciones publicas y grupos de 
la sociedad involucrados y comprometidos en la 
accion indigenista. 

3. La coordinacion con las instituciones fede- 
rales, estatales, municipales, de la sociedad, y 
con los organismos internacionales como tin 
principio permanente en toda la accion imple- 
inentada por el Institute) Nacional Indigenista 
(INI). 

Estos principios generates de accion guber- 
namental efectivizados por el INI son animados 
por la intencion resuelta de terminar con las 
amarras que inhiben el desarrollo pleno e inte- 
gral de los pueblos indigenas de Mexico, una 
poblacion dinamica que representa, en terminos 
demograficos oficiales, mas del 9% del total de 
mexicanos. Basada en el censo poblacional de 
1980, esto significa en 1991 mas de ocho mi- 
llones de indigenas. Ningun otro pais del conti- 
nente americano tiene, en niimeros absolutos, la 
poblacion indigena que tiene Mexico 

Dentro de las demandas clarificadas por las 
comunidades indigenas y sus organizaciones es 
muy importante la de procurar la igualdad de 
justicia en sus derechos y obligaciones ciuda- 
danas. como lo demanda la ley para todos los 
mexicanos. Por iniciativa presidencial, se fundo 
la Comision Nacional de Justicia para los Pueblos 
Indios de Mexico en abril de 19H9. Esta 
comision, presidida por el Dr. Arturo Warman, 
Director General del INI, tiene la tarea de pro- 
poner, despues de previas consultas con organi- 
zaciones indigenas y de la sociedad involucradas 
en el desarrollo y el acontecer indigena. Esta 
iniciativa de Decreto Presidencial que fue som- 
etida a las Camaras de Diputados y Senadores a 
mediados de abril de 1991 que reconoce la reali- 
dad pluricultural de Mexico en el articulo 4 de la 
Constitution, admitira la especificidad cultural de 
los pueblos indigenas y sus derechos colaterales. 
El mencionado articulo integraria el siguiente 
texto: 

La Nacion Mexicana tiene una composicion 
pluricultural sustentada originalmente en sus 
pueblos indigenas. La ley protegera y pro- 
movera el desarrollo de sus lenguas, culturas, 
usos, costumbres, recursos, formas espe< ifi< as 
de organizacion social, y garanti/ara a sus 
integrantes el efectivo acceso a la juridiccion 
del estado. En los juicios y procedimientos 
agrarios en que aquellos sean parte, se to- 
maran en cuenta sus practicas y costumbres 
juridicas en los terminos que establezca la ley. 




Maria Patistan Licanchiton, una chamula maya 
izntzil de los alias tie Chiapas en Mexico, bila land de 
borrego en el patio tie su casa El borrego que fue 
traido por los espanoles, era llamado "venadode 
algodon por los mayas Foto de Ricardo Martinez 

Participan este verano en el Festival de Cultu- 
ras Tradicionales Americanas miembros de las 
etnias ikoods, zapoteca, tzotzil, tzetzal y lacan- 
clona, representa ndo los estados de Oaxaca y 
Chiapas, dos de los estados mexicanos con 
mayor densidad demografica y cultural indigena 
de nuestra Republic.! 

Con esta muestra cultural el publico asistente 
tendra la oportunidad de relacionarse con el 
conocimiento y sabiduria del indigena sobre la 
tierra v el medio ambiente que lo rodea. Ahora 
que el mundo occidental ha empezado a preocu- 
parse por el cuidado ambiental del planeta que 
habitamos, las culturas indigenas de las Americas, 
a pesar de haber tenido todo en contra en estos 
ultimos quinientos anos, nos ofrecen su cono- 
cimiento sobre la armonia que el hombre debe 
guardar en su relacion con el entorno natural. 

Es la "hora del planeta" y tambien la hora de 
escuchar al indigena de nuestro continente. Los 
siglos ultimos de sujecion y discriminacion no 
deben transmitirse al nuevo milenio. La resisten- 
cia cultural indigena debe convertirse en el 
renacimiento pleno tic Lis capacidades indigenas 
para el mejor provecho de todos los habitantes 
de nuestro planeta. 

Jose I ins Krafft, etnologo, es Subdirector del Promocion 
Cultural del Instituto Nacional Indigenista Graduado 
ile la Est iiela Nacional de Antropologia e Historia, 
especializandose en las c ulturas indigenas de la selva, 
particularmente la region lacandona Fue investigador 
del Vluseo de las < ulturas de la Ciudad de Mexico Ha 
publicado extensamente sobre las culturas indigenas tie 
Mexico 



LAND IN NATIVE AMERK AN i ULTURES 



10') 



An Excerpt From San Pedro 

Chenalho: Something of its 

History, Stories and Customs 



Jacinto Arias 



This late 19th or early 2()th century episode in 
the history of San Pedro Chenalho, a village in the 
highlands of Chiapas, is told by one a scribe, Man- 
uel Arias. As a village scribe, his role is to chron- 
icle events and transmit written communications 
between relatives, between community members 
and between the local village and the outside au- 
thorities. In this fragment, he recalls a village 
scribe who abused this power and betrayed his 
community, a familiar theme in the history of the 
subjugation oi Native American cultures. 

Throughout the period ol Spanish domination, 
natives had to endure being treated like children 
by the Kaxlanetik (the descendants of the Span- 
iards). The image of the Spanish master was glori- 
fied in San Pedro Apostol, father of the Pedrano 
people. San Pedro is not a native but a European 
god The relationship between the patron saint 
and his children crystallizes the one between 
Kaxlanetik and natives during the time when they 
telt like the domestic animals of the Spaniards 

For a long time after the Spanish arrived, the 
Pedrano territory was five from incursions \s 
early as 1850, there were only two ranches ll was 
during the Porfirian era that most < >t the planta- 
tions were established, and the Pedrano people 
started to feel the brunt of slavery, To continue 
working the land they had owned for generations, 
peasants had also to work three days a week lor 
i he landowners. 

flic central authority of the native parish Unni) 
did not allow the Kaxlanetik to live in the commu- 
nity. They could visit the town only as merchants 
during holidays and weekends; the rest of the time 
lliev lived in their homes in the lown of San 
Cristobal (JobeD. The lands surrounding this town 
provided firewood only to the native parish. The 
Kaxlanetik had none of the rights to the lands that 
ihev have t< >day. 

During the Porfirian era the best ally of the 
Kaxlanetik against the natives was a Pedrano 
scribe named Antonio Hotaz. who instead of pro- 
tecting his own people, helped the Spaniards ac- 
quire land within the linn to build houses and sell 
merchandise, The town was thus, profaned, but no 



one protested because Hotaz had a lot of power. 
He threatened and abused the people exten- 
sively. In a conspiracy with the Presidential of- 
fice, he gave Spaniards the lands surrounding the 
town. 

This is when the Peclranos began to feel es- 
tranged from the land that gave them their iden- 
titv. security and protection. They assembled with 
apprehension on Sundays and holidays, tor their 
authorities had not been able to defend the liiiu. 
Before, a single Kaxlanetik gave orders, but now 
many wanted power. It was not the same to take 
orders from them when the)' lived outside in San 
Cristobal, as to watch them stroll arrogantly in the 
middle of the native parish. It was far less humili- 
ating to carry the Spaniards' suitcases when they 
were only travelers than to carp packages for 
their wives m\l\ daughters, who daily mistreated 
them. 

Peclranos surely felt neglected by their protec- 
tors: Why — if they were gods — did they not 
destroy these people who made them suiter? 
Were they also weak and afraid like their own 
sons' Hut they continued to pray at night, tor the 
night has hidden forces to help the neglected 
Peclranos gain courage. They prayed and asked 
for courage from their scribes. They said to their 

gods: 

If you have not given our authorities 

Enough courage in their hearts. 

If you have not given them 

Enough cleverness in their heads. 

Let someone rise among your children 

With a stii >ng heart 

To face the Kaxlanetik. 



facinto Arias /s Director of the Department ofEtbnh 
( 'ultitres "I the < hiapanei Institute o/i ttlture oj the 
State oj < hiapas I lis work has been dedicated to the 
i/c/ci/v oj the indigenous cultures qj < hiapas, 
particularly to the preservation of language in its 
written form He ret eived Ins I'h D in anthropology 
from Princeton University His publications included 
Mundo Numinoso de Ins Mayas, and San Pedro 
Chenalho Algo de su Historia, Cuentos v Costumbres 



110 1 AMI l\ \ \ll\ 1 Wll RI( AN M I II HI s 



Fragmento de San Pedro 

Chenalho: Algo de su 

Historia, Cuentos y 

Costumbres 



Jacinto Arias 



Este episodio en la historia a fines del siglo 19 
y principios del 20 de San Pedro Chenalho en los 
altos de Chiapas, es narrado por el escribano 
Manuel Arias. Como el cronista del pueblo, el 
escribano mantiene su historia y facilita la comu- 
nicacion entre miembros de la comunidad y entre 
los pueblos y autoridades fuera de la comunidad. 
En este fragmento, habla de un escribiente que 
abuso de su poder y traiciono a su comunidad, 
un tenia familiar en la historia de subjugacion de 
las culturas nativas de America. 

A lo largo de la dominacion espanola los in- 
dios tuvieron que soportar el trato de nihos que 
les daban los kaxlanetik (ladinos). La imagen del 
ladino patron quedo entronizado en la persona 
de San Pedro Apostol que es un gran kaxlan 
padre de los pedranos. San Pedro no es un dios 
nativo sino ladino. La relacion entre el Santo 
Patrono y sus hijos cristaliza la que existio entre 
ladinos y nativos en los tiempos mas dificiles 
cuando estos se sintieron como polios, puercos o 
perros, frente a aquellos. 

Durante mucho tiempo, despues de la venida 
de los espanoles, el territorio pedrano estuvo 
libre de las invasiones ladinas. Por 1850, segun 
los titulos de compras que los pedranos hicieron 
de sus propias tierras al Gobierno, habia nada 
mas dos ranchos que estaban en las lineas 
mojoneras con Pantelho y Tenejapa; por lo que 
muy probablemente las haciendas se establecie- 
ron en el territorio pedrano durante la jefatura 
politica que estuvo en Larrainzar poco antes y 
durante el porfiriato. Fue entonces cuando los 
hijos de San Pedro empezaron a sentir mas de 
cerca la esclavitud de parte de los duenos de las 
haciendas; fue cuando las tierras que poseian los 
trabajadores desde generaciones anteriores em- 
pezaron a ser baldias y ellos, mozos; entonces 
varios de ellos comenzaron a trabajar tres dias a 



la semana para el patron con tal de que pudieran 
sembrar en las tierras que sus padres les habian 
dejado; o a servir de mozos para pagar las gran- 
des deudas que tenian con el patron. 

El htm, la cabecera municipal, no habia acep- 
tado la residencia de los ladinos. Estos visitaban 
el pueblo solo como comerciantes durante las 
fiestas, sabados y domingos; el resto del tiempo 
vivian en sus casas en Jobel ( San Cristobal). Las 
tierras que estan alrededor del pueblo Servian 
solo para dar lena a las autoridades y demas 
personas que celebraban las fiestas de los santos; 
ningun ladino alegaba tener derechos sobre ellas 
como ahora. 

Pero el porfiriato tuvo de aliado a Antonio 
Botaz, un escribano que, lejos de ser defensor de 
su pueblo, se puso del lado de los ladinos. Por 
unos garrafones de trago, unos manojos de came 
salada, unos cigarros y unas cuantas "tortillas 
ladinas," permitio que los comerciantes hicieran, 
primero, sus galeras para vender sus mercancias, 
luego, sus casas dentro del htm. Se profano el 
pueblo, pero nadie protestaba porque Antonio 
Botaz era muy temido; aventajaba a los ladinos 
en el maltrato a sus paisanos: al saludo reverente 
de inclinacion de cabeza de los que pedian justi- 
cia respondia con los pies, en lugar de corre- 
sponder con la mano como es costumbre; abusa- 
ba de las mujeres de los que mandaba a la carcel. 



fai into Amis es Director del Departamento de < 'itlturas 
Etnicas del Instituto < hiapanet o de ( ultura del Estado 
de Chiapas Se ha dedicado it la defensa de las 
at/Hints indigenas de < hiapas y en particular a la 
preservai ion de la lenguay mi escritura Recibio su 
doctorado en antropologia de la I niversidad de 
Princeton Sus publicaciones incluyen El mundo 
numinoso de los mayas, rSan Pedro Chenalho: Algo 
de su I listi mi. i. < luenti is ) G istumbres, 



LAND IN NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURES 111 



Antonio Botaz supo dar mas miedo a los ya te- 
merosos paisanos suyos: "Si te alzas, si sigues 
hablando, si no obedeces lo que te digo, te iras 
muy lejos para no regresar jamas .1 tu casa," decia 
a los acusados de cualquier delito. Tambien en 
complicidad con el secretario de la presidencia 
Jose Aguilar Rodas, fue el que dio a los ladinos 
Lis parcelas de las orillas del puebli 1 

Asi los pedranos comenzaron a sentir enajena- 
cion del pedazo de tierra que les daba identidad, 
seguridad, proteccion; ya con temor se congrega- 
ban los domingos y clias de fiesta, su ayun- 
tamiento no habia sido capaz de ser el baluarte, 
el fortin, del lum. Si, anteriormente tambien era 
el secretario el que mandaba en el pueblo, pero 
no era lo mismo tener a tin ladino que a varios 
que comenzaban a querer apoderarse de la auto- 



ridad del pueblo; no era lo mismo recibir instruc- 
ciones del ladino que vivia en San Andres o en San 
Cristobal que ver pasearse altaneramente a varios 
de ellos en el corazon del mismo pueblo; tampoco 
era tan humillante para los regidores y los algua- 
ciles cargar las maletas de ladinos transeuntes como 
cargar a las esposas e hijas de quienes recibian 
maltrati is de diarii >. 

Se sintio seguramente el pedrano abandonado 
por sus seres protectores. ,l\>r que, si eran dioses, 
iii> acababan con esas perse mas que los hacian su- 
frir? Acaso los dioses eran tambien debiles y te- 
merosos como sus hijos? Sin embargo siguieron 
rezando sobre todo en las noches porque esta, que 
esconde fuerzas imperceptibles, da valor al pedrano 
que se siente abandonado; rezaban y pedian valor a 
sus escribanos o decian a sus dioses: 



Me muk' xavak'be stzat/al sjol yo'onik 

ti boch'otik va'al tek'el avu'une, kajval, 

ak'o yaluk tal, ak'o tz'ujuk tal avu'un 

ti boch'o skotol sjol 

skotol yo'on satilta sba 

sva'lebin sba xchi'uk 

ti sba avol, sba anich'one. 



Si a estos iid les diste 

valor en sits care/zones. 

si no les diste 

talento en sus cabezas, 

que venga, que se levante de entre lus hijos. 

alguno de corazon fuerte 

para que se plante a los ladinos. 



1 12 LAND IN NATIVE AMI KK AN CULT1 His 



SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION 



1991 Festival 
of American 

Folklife 



June 28 -July 1/July 4 -July 7 




Co-sponsored by the National Park Service 



General 
Information 



Festival Hours 

Opening ceremonies for the Festi- 
val will be held on the Main Music 
Stage in the Roots of Rhythm and. 
Blues area at 11:00 a.m., Friday, June 
28th. Thereafter, Festival hours will 
be 11:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. daily, with 
dance parties every evening 5:30 to 
7:00 p.m., except July 4th. 

Horario del Festival 

La ceremonia de apertura al Festi- 
val se celebrara en el escenario del 
Programa de "Roots of Rhythm and 
Blues," el 28 de junio a las 11:00 A.M. 
A partir de ese dia, las horas del Festi- 
val seran de 11:00 a.m. a las 5:30 
p.m. diariamente, con baile cada no- 
che, excepto el 4 de julio, de 5:30 
p.m. a 7:0,0 P.M. 

Sales 

Traditional food from Indonesia, 
Central and South America and the 
midwestern United States will be sold. 
See the site map for locations. 

A variety of crafts, books and 
Smithsonian/Folkways Recordings re- 
lating to the 1991 Festival will be sold 
in the Museum Shop tents on the 
Festival site. 

Press 

Visiting members of the press 
should register at the Festival Press 
tent on the Mall near Madison Drive 
and 12th Street. 

First Aid 

A first aid station will be available 
near the Administration area on the 
Mall. The Health Units in the Muse- 
ums of American History and Natural 
History are open from 10:00 a.m. to 
5:30 p.m. 

Primeros Auxilios 

Una unidad de primeros auxilios se 
instalara cerca del area de la Adminis- 
tracion. Las unidades de salud en los 



museos de Historia Nbrteamericana y 
de Historia Natural estaran abiertos 
desde las 10:00 a.m. hasta las 5:30 p.m. 

Rest Rooms/Telephones 

There are outdoor facilities for the 
public and disabled visitors located 
near all of the program areas on the 
Mall. Additional rest room facilities 
are available in each of the museum 
buildings during visiting hours. 

Public telephones are available on 
the site, opposite the Museums of 
American History and Natural History, 
and inside the museums. 

Lost and Found/ 

Lost Children and Parents 

Lost items may be turned in or re- 
trieved at the Volunteer tenrlh the 
Administration area., Lost family mem- 
bers may be claimed at the Volunteer 
tent also. We advise putting a name 
tag on youngsters. 

Personas y 
objetos Perdido 

Las personas que hayan perdido a 
sus ninos o a familiares pueden pasar 
por la carpa para voluntarios, en el 
area de la Administracion por ellos. 
Recomendamos que los ninos lleven 
puestos tarjeta de identificacion con 
sus nombres. Los objetos encontrados 
o extraviados podran entregarse o re- 
clamarse en dicha carpa. 

Metro Stations 

Metro trains will be running every 
day of the Festival. The Festival site is 
easily accessible to either the Smith- 
sonian or Federal Triangle stations on 
the Blue and Orange lines. 

Services for 
Disabled Visitors 

Four sign-language interpreters are 
on site every day at the Festival. 
Check the printed schedule and signs 



for interpreted programs. Oral inter- 
preters are available for individuals if a 
request is made three full days in ad- 
vance. Call (202) 786-2414 (TDD) or 
(202) 786-2942 (voice). An audio-loop 
amplification system for people who 
are hard of hearing is installed at the 
Roots of Rhythm and Blues Music 
Stage. 

Large-print copies of the daily 
schedule and audiocassette versions of 
the program book and schedule are 
available free of charge at Festival in- 
formation kiosks and the Volunteer 
tent. 

Wheelchairs are available at the 
Festival Volunteer tent. Volunteers are 
on call to assist wheelchair users and 
to guide visually handicapped visitors. 
There are a few designated parking 
spaces for disabled visitors along both 
Mall drives. These spaces have three 
hour time restrictions'. 

Evening Dance Parties 

Musical groups playing traditional 
dance music will perform every eve- 
ning, 5:30-7:00 p.m., except July 4th. 
See daily schedules for specific loca- 
tions. 

Program Book 

Background information on the cul- 
tural traditions of Indonesia, native 
people of North and South America, 
family farming in the midwestern 
United States and the roots of rhythm 
and blues is available in the Festival of 
American Folklife Program Book, on 
sale for $3.00 at the Festival site or by 
mail from the Office of Folklife Pro- 
grams, Smithsonian Institution, 955 
LEnfant Plaza, S.W., Suite 2600, Wash- 
ington, D.C. 20560. 



Participants in the 
1991 Festival of 
American Folklife 



Roots of Rhythm and Blues: 
The Robert Johnson Era 



Home/Work/Social 
Gatherings 

R.P. Hunt, harmonica - 
Coldwater, Mississippi 

Children s Games 
Brightwood Elementary 
School students 

Fife & Drum 

Jesse Mae Hemphill, drum - 

Como, Mississippi 
Napolean Strickland, fife - 

Como, Mississippi 
Abe Young, drum - Como, 

Mississippi 

R.L. Boyce, drum - Como, 

Mississippi 
E.P. Burton, drum - Como, 

Mississippi 
Bernice Evans, drum - 

Senatobia, Mississippi 
Otha Turner, fife - 

Senatobia, Mississippi 

Work Chants 
"Railroad Maintenance 

Workers" 
Henry Caffe - Birmingham, 

Alabama 
Arthur James - Birmingham, 

Alabama 
John Henry Mealing - 

Birmingham, Alabama 
Abraham Parker - 

Birmingham, Alabama 
Cornelius Wright - 

Birmingham, Alabama 

David Savage - -Greenville, 

Mississippi 
Joseph Savage - Greenville, 

Mississippi 



Spirituals and Gospel 

"Mcintosh County Shouters" 
Catherine Campbell - 

Townsend, Georgia 
Thelma Ellison - Townsend, 

Georgia 
Harold Evans - Townsend, 

Georgia 
Lawrence Mclver - 

Townsend, Georgia 
Verti Mclver - Townsend, 

Georgia 
Benjamin Reed - Townsend, 

Georgia 
Doretha Skipper - 

Townsend, Georgia 
Carletha Sullivan - 

Townsend, Georgia 
Elizabeth Temple - 

Townsend, Georgia 
Odessa Young - Townsend, 

Georgia 

^'Moving Star Hall Singers" 
Benjamin Bligen - Johns 

Island, South Carolina 
Ruth Bligen - Johns Island, 

South Carolina 
Janie Hunter - Johns 

Island, South 

Carolina 
Christina McNeil 

Johns Island, 

South 

Carolina 




Mary Pinckney - Johns 
Island, South Carolina 

Loretta Stanley - Johns 
Island, South Carolina 

Reverend Leon Pinson, 

guitar - New Albany, 

Mississippi 
Lee Russell Howard, 

keyboards - New Albany, 

Mississippi 

Delta Blues 

Kent DuChaine, guitar - 

Birmingham, Alabama 
David "Honeyboy" Edwards,, 

guitar - Chicago, Illinois 
Michael Frank, harmonica - 

Chicago, Illinois 
Frank Frost, harmonica/ 

piano - Clarksdale, 

Mississippi 
Robert Jr. Lockwood, guitar - 

Cleveland, Ohio 
Lonnie Pitchford, guitar - 

Lexington, Mississippi 
Gene Schwartz, bass guitar - 

Cleveland, Ohio 
Johnny Shines, guitar - 

Tuscaloosa, Alabama 
Henry Townsend, guitar/ 

piano - St. Louis, Missouri 
Elmore Williams, guitar/ 

mouth sounds - Natchez, 

Mississippi 

"Mamie Davis Blues Band" 
Dale Cusic, drums - 

Greenville, Mississippi 
Mamie Davis, vocals - 

Greenville, Mississsippi 
Albert Foe, bass guitar - 

Greenville, Mississippi 
Larry Blackwell, guitar - 

Greenville, Mississippi 



Family 
Farming in 
the Heartland 

Farm Families 

Arnold Family 
Rushville, Indiana 
(hog and grain farming) 
Clarence "Jake" Arnold 
Eleanor Arnold 
John Arnold 
Leslie Arnold 

Borman Family 
Kingdom City, Missouri 
(dairy farming) 
Harlan Borman 
Katherine Bonnan 
Kelly Borman 
Timothy Borman 

Cerny Family 

Cobden, Illinois 

(tomato, pepper, grain, and 

beef cattle farming) 
Anthony Cerny 
Betty Cerny 
Eric Cerny 
Josephine Cerny 
Norbert Cerny 
Richard Cerny 
Theresa Cerny 
Thomas Cerny 

Dahl Family 

Mineral Point, Wisconsin 

(dairy farming and 

gardening) 
Pascalena Dahl 
Tony Dahl 
Vickie Dahl 

Gustad Family 
Volin, South Dakota 
(hog and grain farming) 
Jeannie Gustad 
Ordell "Bud" Gustad 
Paul Gustad 
Shari Gustad 
Steve Gustad 
Virginia Gustad 

Hill Family 
Imlay City, Michigan 
(potato farming) 
Lynnette Hill 
Russell Hill 



Shannon Hill 
Tyrone Hill 

Holmquist Family 
Smolan, Kansas 
(wheat and beef cattle 

farming) 
Darrel Holmquist 
Marlysue Holmquist 
Mary Holmquist 
Thomas Holmquist 

Jones Family 
Ainsworth, Nebraska 
(hog, beef cattle and grain 

farming) 
Brendon Jones 
Carol Jones 
David Jones 
Lois Jones 

Logenbach Family 
Fremont, Ohio 
(cucumber, sugar beet and 

cattle farming) 
Connie Logenbach 
Larry Logenbach 
Mike Logenbach 

Peters Family 
Vallonia, Indiana 
(popcorn and beef cattle 

farming ) 
Larry Peters 
Lavena Peters 
Peg Peters 
Ralph Peters 

Simanek Family 

Walker, Iowa 

(grain and beef cattle 

farming) 
Allen Simanek 
Arthur Simanek 
Dorothy Simanek 
Linda Simanek 

Sage-Chase and Voigt 

Family 
Halliday, North Dakota 
(Mandan Indian gardening) 
Louise Otter "Pretty Eagle" 

Sage 
Bob "Moves Slowly" Sage- 
Chase 
Ann Charity "Cornsilk" Voigt 
Janet "Bird Woman" Voigt 

» 

Tomesh Family 
Rice Lake, Wisconsin 







(dairy farming) 
John Tomesh 
Joseph Tomesh 
Rose Tomesh 
Virginia Tomesh 

Crafts 

Wilma Brueggemeier, quilter 

- Norwood, Minnesota 
Marian Day, cook - W. 

Lebanon, Indiana 
William Day, wooden bowl 

maker - W. Lebanon, 

Indiana 
Deonna Green, quilter - 

Remus, Michigan 
Paula Guhin, corn mural 

artist - Aberdeen, South 

Dakota 
Elnora Henschen, quilter - 

Norwood, Minnesota 
Gertrude Hornebrink, quilter 

- Waconia, Minnesota 
Arnold Ische, rug" weaver - 

Cologne, Minnesota 
Lillian Ische, rug weaver - 

Cologne, Minnesota 
Harold Plate, whirligig 

maker - Hedrich, Iowa 
Patricia Plate, whirligig 

maker - Hedrich, Iowa 
Dale Rippentrop, corn mural 

decorator - Mitchell, 

South Dakota 
Arthur Sayler, postrock 

cutter - Albert, Kansas 
Arthur Sayler III, postrock 

cutter - Albert, Kansas 
Beatrice Sayler, rug maker - 

Albert, Kansas 
Cal Shultz, corn mural artist 

- Mitchell, South Dakota 
Dean Strand, corn mural 

decorator - Mitchell, 
South Dakota 



lone Todd, quilter - Remus, 
Michigan 

Threshing 

Ronald E. Miller, Genesoe, 

Illinois 
Lora Lea Miller, Geneseo, 

Illinois 
Russell L. Miller, Geneseo, 

Illinois 
James Daniel "J.D." Miller, 

Geneseo, Illinois 
Herb Wessel, Hampstead, 

Maryland 
Russell Wolfinger, 

Hagerstown, Maryland 
Henry Thomas, Washington, 

D.C. 

Music 

Old Time Fiddle Contest 
Kenny Applebee, guitar - 

Rush Hill, Missouri 
Amos Chase, fiddle - 

Grantville, Kansas 
Dwight "Red" Lamb, fiddle/ 

button accordion - 

Onawa, Iowa 
Preston "Pete" McMahan, 

fiddle - Harrisburg, 

Missouri 
Kenneth Sidle, fiddle - • 

Newark, Ohio 
Lynn "Chirps" Smith, fiddle - 

Grayslake, Illinois 
Tom Weisgerber, fiddle - St. 

Peter, Minnesota 
Michele Blizzard, fiddle - 

Frazeyburg, Ohio 

Midwestern Parlor Music 

Styles 
Art Galbraith, fiddle - 

Springfield, Missouri 
Paul Keller, ragtime piano - 



*Vv»> 



Hutchinson, Kansas " 
Gordon McCann, guitar - 

Springfield, Missouri 
Bob Andresen, guitar - 

Duluth, Minnesota 
Gary Andresen, guitar - 

Duluth, Minnesota 

Farm Songs and Stories 
Chuck Suchy, singer/ 

songwriter - Mandan, 

North Dakota 
Michael Cotter, storyteller - 

Austin, Minnesota 

Brian and the Mississippi 

Valley Dutchmen 
Brian Brueggen, band 

leader, concertina - 

Cashton, Wisconsin 
Wilhelm Oelke, drums/ 

vocals - Coon Valley, 

Wisconsin 
Louis Allen, tuba - 

McFarland, Wisconsin 
Philip Brueggen, trumpet/ 

vocals - Cashton, 

Wisconsin 
Don Burghardt, trumpet/ 

trombone/vocals - 

Sturdevant, Wisconsin 
Milton "Tony" Jorgenson, 

banjo - Coon Valley, 

Wisconsin 

Country Travellers 
Lillie Anderson, bass - 

Thompsonville, Illinois 
Phyllis Davis, rhythm guitar/ 

vocals - Benton, Illinois 
Willard Davis, rhythm guitar 

- Benton, Illinois 
Ernest Rhynes, lead guitar - 

Ina, Illinois 



Lloyd "Boot" Shew, fiddle - 
Thompsonville, Illinois 

Sidney Logsdon, square 
dance caller - Versailles, 
Illinois 

The Simanek Family 
Allen Simanek, trombone - 

Walker, Iowa 
Anton Simanek, tuba/ 

baritone horn - Walker, 

Iowa 
Arthur Simanek, accordion - 

Walker, Iowa 

Eastern Iowa Brass Band 
Barbara Biles, alto horn - 

Springville, Iowa 
Todd Bransky, Uiba - Solon, 

Iowa 
Beth Brooks, percussion - 

Crawfordsville, Iowa 
Norman Brooks, tuba - 

Crawfordsville, Iowa 
Jerry Buxton, tuba - Iowa 

City, Iowa 
Nancy Coles, coronet - Mt. 

Vernon, Iowa 
Renee Crisman, trombone - 

Solon, Iowa 
David DeHoff, announcer - 

Marion, Iowa 
Joan DeHoff, coronet - 

Marion, Iowa 
Lyle Hanna, bass trombone 

Mt. Vernon, Iowa 
Beth Hronek, coronet - 

Cedar Rapids, Iowa 
Fred Hucke, flugelhorn - 

Cedar Falls, Iowa 
Susan Hucke, coronet - 

Cedar Falls, Iowa 
Melissa Karr, trombone - 

Iowa City, Iowa 
Steve Kinney, coronet - 

Harper's Ferry, Iowa 
Viola Koster, coronet - 

Marion, Iowa 
Tim Lockwood, percussion 

Mt. Vernon, Iowa 
Dennis Modracek, coronet - 

Cedar Rapids, Iowa 
George Mullaly, baritone 

horn - Iowa City, Iowa 
Harvey Nicholson, 

euphonium - Iowa City, 

Iowa 
Richard Rockrohr, 

percussion - Mt. Vernon, 
Iowa 



Nancy Roorda, euphonium - 

Iowa City, Iowa 
Don Stine, conductor, 

euphonium - Mt. Vernon, 

Iowa 
Judy Stine, alto horn - Mt. 

Vernon, Iowa 
Kevin Tiedemann, 

percussion - Lisbon, Iowa 
Robert Upmeyer, alto horn - 

Solon, Iowa 
Robert Warner, coronet - 

Anamosa, Iowa 

Conjunto Los Bribones 
Juan Herrera, Jr., drums - 

Defiance, Ohio 
Juan Herrera, Sr., bass guitar 

- Defiance, Ohio 
Rudy Tijerina, Jr., guitar - 

Archboid, Ohio 
Rudy Tijerina, Sr., 

accordion/vocals - 

Defiance, Ohio 
Robert Valle, guitar - 

Defiance, Ohio 

Swiss American Music 
Martha Bernet, accordion/ 

vocals - Monroe, 

Wisconsin ~ 
Betty Vetterli, accordion/ 

vocals - Monroe, 

Wisconsin 

Moon Mullins and the 

Traditional Grass 
Paul "Moon" Mullins, fiddle/ 

vocals - Middletown, 

Ohio 
Gerald Evans, Jr., mandolin/ 
• vocals - Cincinatti, Ohio 
Glen Inman, bass - W. 

Carollton, Ohio 
William Joseph "Joe" 

Mullins, banjo/vocals - 

Hamilton, Ohio 
Charles Mark Rader, guitar/ 

vocals - Trenton, Ohio 

Farm Broadcasting 
Rich Hawkins, KRVN - 

Lexington, Nebraska 
Lee Kline, WHO - Des 

Moines, Iowa 
Verlene Looker, KMA - 

Shenandoah, Iowa 



Indonesia 

East Kalimantan 

H. Zailani Idris, Regional 
Coordinator 

Kenyah 

Pangun Jalung, dancer 
Peding Ajang, dancer 
Buaq Aring, dancer 
Ngang Bilung, dancer 
Peluhat Saring, dancer 
Pelajam Udou, dancer 
Lawai Jalung, musician 
Pelenjau Ala, lamin builder 
Ajan Ding, lamin builder 
Dau Kirung, beadworker 
Alina Ubang, weaver 
Agang Merang, blacksmith 

Modang 

Lehong Bujai, musician 
Jiu Ping Lei, musician 
Djeng Hong, hudok dancer 
Y. Bayau Lung, hudok 

dancer 
Yonas Wang Beng, hudok 

carver 
Bit Beng, hudok dancer 

South Sulawesi 

Halilintar Lathief, Regional 
Coordinator 

Hamsinah Bado, dancer 
Hasnah Gassing, dancer 
Daeng Gassing musician/ ' 
dancer 



Mile Ngalle, musician/ 

dancer 
Juma, musician 
Jamaluddin, musician 
Serang Dakko, musician 
Ismail Madung, musician 
H. Damang, boat builder 
H. Muhammad Tahir, boat 

builder 
Martawang La Pucu, weaver 
Roslina Suaib, foodways 

"East Java 

A. M. Munardi - Regional 
Coordinator 

East Java - Madura 
Hosnan P. Atromu, dancer 
Fauzi, dancer 
Masruna, dancer/musician 
Merto, dancer/musician 
"Supakra" Sudjibta, dancer/ 

mask carver 
Marzuki, musician 
A.S. Marzuki, musician 
Muhni, musician 
Sahabuddin, musician 
Sutayyib, musician 
Sutipno, musician 
Saleh, musician 
Sunarwi, musician 
Suraji, musician 
Riskijah, foodways 
Hadiya, traditional medicine 

East Java - Banyuwangi 
Astani, dancer 
Supinah, dancer 
Adenan, musician 




Praminto Adi, musician 
Basuki, musician 
Sahuni, musician 
Sukidi, musician 
Sanali, musician 
Sumitro Hadi, musician 

East Java - Ponorogo 
Buwono, reog performer 
Harjokemun al Moloq, reog 

performer 
Heri Suprayitno, reog 

performer 
Margono, reog performer 



Marwan, reog performer 
Nardi, reog performer 
Saleh, reog performer 
Shodiq, reog performer 
Subroto, reog performer 
Sunardi, reog performer 
Suparman, reog performer 
Kusnan, gamelan maker 
Misri, gamelan maker 

East Java - Tit ban 
Rukaiyah, batik dyer 
Tarsi, batik dyer 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Alaska 

Haida 

Dolores Churchill, weaver/ 

basketmaker 
Holly J. Churchill, weaver/ 

basketmaker 

Tlingit 

Austin Hammond, 

storyteller/subsistence 
Ernestine Hanlon, weaver 
Esther Susan Shea, header/ 

storyteller 
Mark Jacobs, Jr., subsistence 
Nathan Jackson, carver/ 

dancer/subsistence 
Nora Marks Dauenhauer, 

dancer/singer 
Steven Jackson, carver/ 

dancer 

Tsimshian 

Jack Hudson, carver/dancer/ 
singer 

Arizona 

Hopi 

Fawn Garcia, potter 
James "Masa" Garcia, potter 
Marcus "Cooch" 

Coochwikvia, silversmith 
Patrick Joshvehma, carver/ 

katsina dolls/toys 
Merle Calnimptewa, weaver/ 

belts 
Ernie "Patusngwa-Ice" 

Andrews, weaver 
Pearl Kootswytewa, 

basketmaker/coil 
Tamie Jean "T.J." Tootsie, 



cook/piki bread 
Bertrum "Bert" Tsavatawa. 

painter 
Hershel Talashoema, 

storyteller 

Bolivia 

Jalq a 

Apolinaria Mendoza, dancer/ 

cook/weaver 
Gerardo Mamani, costume 

maker/dancer 
Honorato Mamani, costume 

maker/dancer 
Juliana Rodriguez, dancer/ 

cook/weaver 
Marcelo Cruz, costume 

maker/dancer 

Tiwanaku 

Cesar Callisaya Yurijra, 

dancer/cook/weaver 
Roberto Cruz Yupanqui, 

agriculture/dancer 
Martin Condori Callisaya, 

agriculture/dancer 
Tito Flores Nina, agriculture/ 

dancer 
Bonifacia Quispe Fernandez, 

dancer/cook/weaver 
Patricia Uruchi Limachi, 

dancer/cook/ weaver 
Elena Uruchi Quispe, 

dancer/cook/weaver 
Benita Ranos Uruchi, 

dancer/cook/weaver 

Ecuador 

Shuar 

Luisa Marta Tunki Kayap, 
dancer 



Numi Vicente Tkakimp 

Atum, dancer 
Felipe Unkush Tsenkush, 

storyteller/hunter/ 

fisherman 
Miguel Puwainchir, 

storyteller/hunter' 

fisherman 
Jose Shimpu Marit-Saap, 

weaver/basketmaker 
Hilda Gomez, cook 
Antonieta Tiwiran Taish, 

cook 
Jose Miguel Tsunki 

Tempekat Yampanas, 

musician 

Mexico 

Maya 

Petrona Intzin, weaver/ dyer 
Maria Perez Peso, weaver 

dyer/cook . 
Salvador Lunes Collazo, 

medicine man 
Catalina Meza Guzman, 

interpreter/translator 

Lacandon 

Vincente K'in Paniagua, 
potter/farmer/arrowmaker 

Ikoods 

Teofila Palafox, weaver 
Virginia Tamariz. weaver 
Alfredo Abasolo, fisherman/ 

netmaker/dancer 
Ricardo Carvajal, chirimia/ 

singer/fisherman/ 

netmaker 
'Lino Degollado, dancer/ 

netmaker 



Albino Figueroa, drum/turtle 

shell/fisherman/net maker 
Apolinar Figueroa, drum/ 

turtle shell/basketmaker/ 

net maker 
Juan Olivares, narrator/ 

researcher/fisherman 
Peru 
Ta quite 
Paula Quispe Cruz, dancer/ 

weaver 
Terencia Marca Willi, 

dancer/weaver 
Alejandro Flores Huatta, 

weaver/musician 
Alejandro Huatta Machaca, 

weaver/musician 
Salvador Huatta Yucra, 

weaver/musician 
Jesus Marca Quispe, weaver/ 

musician 
Cipriano Machaca Quispe, 

weaver/musician 
Mariano Quispe Mamani, 

weaver/musician 

Zapotec 

Cenorina Garcia, potter 

Alberta Martinez "ria-bert" 

Marcial, weaver/cook' 
Angela Marcial "ria-ranc" 

Mendoza, weaver/ 

narrator/cook 
Flaviano Beltran, tanner/ 

leatherworker/farmer 
Pedro Rios Hernandez, 

chirimia/basketmaker/ 

dance master 
Arnulfo M. Ramos, chirimia/ 

rope maker 




Contributing 
Sponsors 



Family Farming in the Heartland fas 
been made possible by the Smith- 
sonian Institution and the U.S. Depart- 
ment of Agriculture. 

Land in Native American Cultures 
has been co-sponsored by the Smith- 
sonian Institution's National Museum 
of the American Indian, and made 
possible by the Smithsonian, the Inter- 
American Foundation, the U.S. Em- 
bassy in Bolivia, the Ruth Mott Fund, 
Sealaska Heritage Foundation, the 
Government of Chiapas, Mexico, Insti- 
tuto Nacional Indigenista and Centra 
de Investigaciones y Estudios Superi- 
ores en Antropologia Social of Mexico, 
the Cultural Preservation Office of the 
Hopi Tribal Council, and American 
Airlines of Quito, Ecuador. 

Forest, Field and Sea: Folklife in Indo- 
nesia has been made possible by the 
Smithsonian Institution; the National 
Committee K.I.A.S. (Festival of Indo- 
nesia); Garuda Indonesia Airways; 
American President Lines; Regional 
Governments of East Java, East Kali- 
mantan and South Sulawesi; and Julius 
Tahija. 

Roots of Rhythm and Blues: The Robert 
Johnson Era has been made possible 
by the Smithsonian and a grant from 
the Institution's Special Exhibition 
Fund and by a grant from the Music 
Performance Trust Funds. 



In Kind 
Contributions 



General Festival Support 
Bell Haven Pharmacy, Alexandria, VA 
Embassy High Dairy, Waldorf, MD 
Everfresh Juice Co., Franklin Park, IL 
Goodlaxson Manufacturers, Inc., - 

Coldfax, IA 
Hall Brothers Funeral Home; Inc., 

Washington, DC 



Hechinger Company, Landover, MD 
Heritage Cutlery, Inc., Bolivar, NY 
Jolly Time Popcorn, Sioux City, IA 
McGuire Funeral Service, 

Washington, DC 
National Linen Service, Alexandria, VA 
Pier I Imports, Fort Worth, TX 
Russell Harrington Cutlery, South 

Bridge, MA 
Sugar Association, Inc., Washington, DC 
Tripps Bakers, Inc., Wheeling, WV 
Tyson's Tree Service, Sterling, VA 
Uncle Ben's, Inc., Houston, TX 
U.S. National Arboretum, 

Washington, DC 
Utz Quality Foods, Inc v Hanover, PA 
Wilkins Coffee, Capitol Heights, MD 

Roots of Rhythm and Blues: The Robert 
Johnson Era 

B& O Railroad Museum, Baltimore, MD 
Stephen C. LaVere 

Family Farming in the Heartland 
Action Al's Tire Co., Washington, DC 
Aermotor Windmill Corporation, San 

Angelo, TX 
Bacova Guild, Ltd., Bacova, VA 
Ball Corporation, Muncie, IN 
Babson Brothers Company, 

Naperville, IL 
The Botanical Gardens, 

Washington, DC 
Cedar Works, Inc., Peebles, OH 
Curry Seed Company, Elk Point, SD 
Data Transmission Network, Bluffton, 

Indiana branch office 
Ertl Company, Dyersville, IA 
Ford - New Holland Company, 

Lancaster, PA 
Hoard's Dairyman Magazine, Fort 

Atkinson, WI 
John Deere Company, Columbus, 

Ohio branch office 
Massey Ferguson Company, IA 
Nebraska Plastics, Cozad, NE 
Northrup-King Company, Golden 

Valley, MN 
Pioneer Hi-Bred International, Inc., 

Johnston, IA 
Steel City Corporation, 

Youngstown, OH 
The Tomato Game, Immokalee, FL 
Valmont Industries, Valley, NE 
Van Wingerden of Culpepper, 

Stevensburg, VA 
Wisconsin Aluminum Foundry, 

Manitowoc, WI v 

Woodpeckers Ltd. of Virginia, 

Monterey, VA 



Forest, Field and Sea: Folklife in 

Indonesia 
National Arboretum, Washington, DC 
National Linen Service, Alexandria, VA 
Plantworks, Davidsonville, MD 
Rolling Greens, Falls Church, VA 

Land in Native American Cultures 
American Sheep Industry Association, 
Englewood, CO ' 



Special 
Thanks 



General Festival 

Allied Builders 

Mary Cliff 

Folklore Society of Greater 

Washington 
Ron Hernandez 
Joyce Lamebull 
Leon Leuppe 
Louisa Meruvia 

We extend special thanks to all the 
volunteers at this year's Festival. Only 
with their assistance are we able to 
present the programs of the 1991 
Festival of American Folklife. 

Roots of Rhythm and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 
Rebecca Barnes 
Howell Begle, Rhythm & Blues 

Foundation 
Roland Freeman 
Maggie Holtzberg-Call 
Paul Kahn 
Lauri Lawson 
Jim O'Neil 
Martin Paulson, Music Performance 

Trust Funds 
Judy Peyser, Center for Southern 

Folklore 
Leroy Pierson 
John Telfer 
John Waring 
Dick Waterman 
Ndncy Wilson, Association of 

American Railroads 

Family Farming in the Heartland 
Jim Brier 

Robin Sproul, ABC Washington 
Bureau 



Tina Bucuvalas 

Pete Daniel, Smithsonian Institution, 

Division of Agriculture and Natural 

Resources 
Maria Downs 
Barbara Faust, Smithsonian Institution, 

Office of Horticulture 
Harley Good Bear 
Martin Hamilton, University of 

Maryland Extension Service 
Senator Tom Harkin 
Larry Jones, Smithsonian Institution, 

Division of Agriculture and Natural 

Resources 
Lee Majeski, University of Maryland 

Extension Service 
Ronald Miller 
Senator Paul Simon 
Wayman Cobine 
Herb Wessel 
Dalena White 
Jay Wilier 
Diana Winthrop 

Special thanks to the U.S. Department 
of Agriculture, Edward Madigan, Sec- 
retary: and the staff in the Heartland 
states for their participation and guid- 
ance in providing state information 
for the Family Farm program. 

Joe Antogini 
Joan Arnoldi 
Marti Asner 
Marlyn Aycock 
Tim Badger 
Jim Benson 
Bruce Blanton 
Doug Bowers 
Judith Bowers 
Cameron Bruemmer 
Gary Butler 
Mike Combs 
Morley Cook 
Steve Dewhurst 
Jane Dodds 
John Duncan 
Esther L. Edwards 
Robert Fones 
Alan Fusonie 
Claude Gifford 
Marcus Gross 
Ron Hall 
Eartha Harriet 
Kathryn Hill 
Bob Hoover 
Linwood Jones 
Dennis Kaplan 
Sally Katt 
Michael Kelly 



Bud Kerr 
Doug Mackenzie 
Julia McCaul 
Mary Ann McQuinn 
Douglass Miller 
Bill Mills 
Chris Molineaux 
Susan Nelson 
Diane O'Connor 
Jack Parnell 
Janet Poley 
Vic Powell 
Larry Quinn 
Larry Rana 
Dennis Roth 
Jim Schleyer 
Al Senter 
Bob Sherman 
Kelly Shipp 
Norton Strommen 
Shirley Traxler 
Larry Wachs 
Ray Waggoner 
Hank Wyman 
Clayton Yeutter 

Forest, Field and Sea. The Folklife of 

Indonesia 

Office of the Executive Committee, 

Festival of Indonesia 1990-1991 

Mochtar Kusuma Atmadja 

Rahmad Adenan 

Supono Hadisujatmo 

Djoko Soejono 

Erman Soehardjo 

Nani Woejani 

Anggrek Kutin/Kartika 

Sahri 
Festival of Indonesia 1990-1991, 
New York City 

Theodore Tanen 

Maureen Aung-Twin 

Maggie Weintraub 
Festival of Indonesia In Performance 

Rachel Cooper 

Friends of the Festival Committee 
Clare Wolfowitz 

Ministry of Education and Culture 
Dr. Buddhisantoso 
Dewi Indrawati 
Dloyana Kusumah 

Yavasan Dana Bhakti Kesejahteraan 
Sosial 

U.S. Embassy, Jakarta 

Ambassador John Monjo 
Demaris Kirshshofer 



Don Q. Washington 
Hugh Williams 
Michael Yaki 

U.S. Department of State 
Donald Camp 
Karl Fritz, U.S.I.A. 
Barbara Harvey 

Indonesian Embassy, Washington, DC 
Ambassador Abdul Rachman Ramly 
Sjarief and Judy Achjadi 
Makarim Wibisono 
Giri Kartono 
Raya Sumardi 
I.G.A. Ngurah Suparta 

East Java 

Governor Sularso 

Bupati Soegondo 

Bupati Drs. R. Gatot Soemani 

Bupati Drs. Djoewahiri 

Martoprawiro 
Bupati Djuhansah 
Bupati Abdul Kadir 
Sekwilda Widodo Pribadi, S.H. 

South Sulawesi 

Governor Prof. Dr. H. A. Amiaiddin 

Bupati Drs. A. Thamrin 

Bupati Drs. H. Tadjuddin Noer 

Bupati Drs. A. Azis Umar 

Bupati Abbas Sabbi, S.H. 

Mayor Soewahyo 

Former Bupati Drs. HA. Burhanuddin 

Bupati Drs. HA. Dauda 

Mayor Mirdin Kasim, S.H. 

East Kalimantan 

Governor H.M. Ardans, S.H. 
Bupati H. Said Safran 

Valley Craftsmen, LTD. Baltimore, MD, 

Samuel S. Robinson 

Micki Altiveros-Chomits 
Gene Ammarell 
James Danandjaya 
Eric Crystal 
Tammy Dackworth 
Jijis Chadran 
Hermine Dreyfuss 
Anthony Day 
Alan Feinstein 
Kathy Foley 
Marti Fujita 
Roy Hamilton 
Sri Hastanto 
Tim Jessup 
Halilintar Latief 



Renske Heringa 
Zailani Idris 
Asri Kaniu 
Amna Kusumo 
Sardono W. Kusumo 
•Isabella Linser 
A. M. Munardi 
, David Noziglia 
Judy Mitoma 
Mark Perlman 
Anna Rice 
Widiyanto S. Putro 
J. Richards 
Ann Saxon 
Siradjuddin 
Bernard Sellato 
Eugene Smith 
Anderson Sutton 
Narulita Sastromiharto 
Patti Seery 
Paul Taylor 
Toby Volkman 
Philip Yampolsky 

Land in Native American Cultures 
Fernando Alborta Mendez 
Catherine Allen 
Roy Bailey ■ 
Jose Barreiro 
Edmmund H. Benner 
Charles M. Berk - 

Roy Bryce-Laporte 
Robert I. Callahan 
Maria Teresa Campero 
Eduardo Castillo 
Mercedes Cerdio 
Jose Luis Coutino Lopez 
■ Ambassador Jorge Crespo Velasco 
Mac Chapin 
Roberto Da Matta 
Floriberto Diaz Gomez 
Herbert Didrickson 
Andres Fabregas 
Barbara Faust 
Enriqueta Fernandez 
Holly Forbes 
Adolfo A. Franco 
Christina Frankemont 
Ambassador Robert Gelbard 
Susie Glusker 
Kevin Benito Healy 
Charlotte Heth 
Bill Holm 
Bob Johnson 
Duane Johnson 
David Katzeek 
Charles Kleymeyer 
Emilio Izquierdo 
Marie Laws 
Rev. Jose Loits Meulemans 



Gregorio Luke 

Theodore MacDonald 

Enrique Mayer 

Louis Minard 

Sidney Mintz 

Christian Monis 

Walter Morris 

Javier Moscoso 

Rita Murillo 

June Nash 

Patricia Ortiz Mena de Gonzalez 

Garrido 
Carlos Ostermeier 
Louis Painted Pony 
Philip Parkerson 
William K. Perrin 
Maria Teresa Pomar 
Marion Ritchie-Vance 
Charles A. Reilly 
Anita Rincon 
Fatima Rodriguez 
Manuel Rodriguez 
Teri Rofkar 
Teresa Rojas Rabiela 
Chris Rollins 

Alberto Salamanca Prado 
Calvin R. Sperlin 
Raymond H. Thompson 
Deborah Tuck 
Marta Turok 
Antonio Ugarte 
Rosi LIrriolagoitia 
Irene Vasquez Valle 
Stephen G. Velter 
Noel Vietmeyer 
Freddy Yepes 
Mary Jane Yonkers 
Arturo Warman 
David Whisnant 
Norman Whitten 



Friday, June 28 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage. ^r\ 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol ^3? 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 



11:30- 



12:00 



12:30 - 



1:00 

1:30 
2:00 

2:30 
3:00 

3:30 
4:00 

4:30 
5:00 

5:30 



Main 

Stage 



Opening 
Ceremony 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Mcintosh 
County 
Shouiers & 
Moving Star 
Hall Singers; 
Spirituals Si 
Dance 



Robert Jr. 

U k kw< h )d 

12-String 

Blues Guitar 



Henry 

"Mule" 

Townsend: 

Cit) Country 

Blues 



Johnny 

Shines: 

Delta Blues 



Mamie Davis 
Blues Band: 
Delta Blues 



Narrative 

Stage 



Robert 

Johnson 

Remembered 



Piano 
Workshop 



Women Sing 
the Blues 



Children's 
Matenal as 
Root Music 



Rhythm and 

Blues: 

Its Living 

Legacy 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Comparative 

Slide 
Technique 



Family Farming in the Heartland 



Conjunto Lo; 

Bribones 

Mexican 

American 

Music 



Music 

Stage 



Brian 

and the 

Mississippi 

Vallej 

Dutchmen: 
Polka Music 



Narrative 
Stage 



Farm Family 
History 



Live Radio 
\\ ith Verlene 
Looker, KMA 



Chuck 1 

Suchey and 

Michael 

Cotter: 

Farm Songs 

and Sti iries 



l \ ... 



Moon 
Mullins and 
the Tradi- 
tional Grass 
Ohio Blue- 
grass, 



Midwestern 
Fiddle Styles 



Brian and 
the Missis 

sippi 

Valley 

Dutchmen: 

Polka Music 



Conjunto Los 

Bribones: 

Mexican 

American 

Music 



Live Radio 

with Rich 

Hawkins, 

KRVN 



Midwestern 

Acc< irdion 

Styles 



Live Radio 
with Rich 

flaw kins. 
KRVN 



( hanging 
Roles of 

Women 



Choosing 
and Planting 

seeds 



Food- 
ways 



Home 
Office 



Heartland 

Noonday 

Meal 



Canning 
with Fruits 



H< ime 
Office 



Cooking 
with Corn 



Making 

Sausage 



Learning 
Center 



Farm Songs 
and Games 



Czech 

Feather 

Stripping 

Party 



Learning 

about Farm 

Animals 



Creating a 
Family Quilt 



5:30 



7:00 



Dance 
Party: 

Midwestern 

Fiddlers 



Special Demonstrations 

Threshing - 12:00-12:30. 3:00-3:30 
Milking the Cow - 4:00-4 30gg 

Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making • Whirligig 
Making • Com Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Fmbroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence , 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Corn 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 

Dance 

Stage 


Children's 
Area 


Narrative/ 
Long- 
house 
Areas 








Topeng 
Mask Dance 


Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 


Reyog 
Procession 


Make Your 

Own 

Shadow 

Puppet 


Madurese 
Cooking 


Sulawesi 
Mush & 
Dance 




Indonesian 
Masks 


Play 

Indonesian 

Games 


Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 


Jamu 

Herbal 
Preparation 




Topeng 
Gamelan 
Workshop 


Learn 

Indonesian 

Batik 


Boatbuild- 
ing and 
Navigation 




Sulawesi 
Cooking 


Reyog 
Procession 


Try- 
Indonesian 
Music &. 
I ian< e 


Sulawesi 
Music Sc 
Dance 




1 >ayak 
Music & 
Dance 



Ongoing Demonstrations 
East Java — Topeng Mask Caning • 
Reyog Headdress Making • Tuban Batik 
& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamu: 
J-Ierbal Preparation 
South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 
Drum Making • Silk Weaving 
East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deco- 
rative Painting • Kenyah Bead Work • 
Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 
Kenyah Blacksmithing 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 



Shuar 
Opening 
Ceremony 



Tlingit Raven 

Dance/ 
Shuar Crafts 



Shuar Music 
& Dance 



Shuar Screen 

Painting 

Haida 

Weaving 



Tlingit 
Carving 



Hunting & 
Animal 
Sound 

Imitations 



SE Alaska 

Friendship 

Dance 



Subsistence 
Workshop 



Rainforest 



Plaza 



Ikood 
Dance/ 
Zapotec 
Cooking 



Jalq'a 
Carnival 

Dance/ 
Chiapas 
Weaving 



Andean 

Narrative. 

Hopi Loom 

Construction 



Ikood 

Narrative/ 

Taquile 

Weaving 



Shuar 
Cooking 



Jalq'a 
Weaving 



Zapotec 

Music/ 

Hopi . 

Cooking 



Mayan 

Healing 

Ceremony 



High- 
Lands 



Hopi 

Dictionary/ 

Andean 

Cooking 



Hopi 
Pottery 



Hopi 

Dictionary/ 

Tiwanaku 

Planting 

Ceremony 



Taquile 
Dance 



Tiwanaku 
Weaving 



Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincente- 
nary Festival program, an exhibition, 
"Traditional Native American Textiles 
from Bolivia," can be seen at the S. 
Dillon Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 
10:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. 



Saturday, June 29 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage, g-. 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol v§> 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 



11:30- 



12:00 



12:30 



1:00- 



1:30- 



2:00 



2:30 
3:00 

3:30 
4:00 

4:30 
5:00 

5:30 



Main 
Stage 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Moving Star 

Hall 

Singers: 

Sea Island 

Spirituals 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Robert Jr. 

Lock wood: 

12-String 

"Blues Guitar 



Johnny 

Shines: 

Delta Blues 



Narrative 

Stage 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



The 

"Crossroads 

Myth 



12-Bar, 
8-Bar, 

No-Bar 
Blues 



Vocal Styles 



Rhythm 
and Blues: 
Its Living 

I.CgJl \ 



Mcintosh 

County 

Shouters: 

Shout 

Spirituals & 

Dance 



Henry 

"Mule" 

Townsend: 

City/Country 

Blues 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Mamie Davis 
Blues Band 
Delta Blues 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Bottleneck 
Slide Tech- 
nique 



Sea Island 
Spirituals 



Family Farming in the Heartland 



5:30 



7:00 



\|< n .11 

Mullins and 
the Tradi- 
tional Grass: 
Ohio 
Bluegrass 



Music 
Stage 



Chuck 

Suchey and 

Michael 

Cotter: 
Farm Songs 
and Stories 



Conjunto 
Los Bri- 
bones: 
Mexican 

American 
Music 



Midwestern 
Fiddle 
Contest 



Brian 

and the 

Mississippi 

Valley 
Dutchmen: 
Wisconsin 
Polka Music 



Chuck 

Suchey and 

Michael 

Cotter: 
Farm Songs 
and Stories 



Moon 
Mullins and 
the Tradi- 
tional Grass 
Ohio 
Bluegrass 



Narrative 
Stage 



Live Radio 
with Verlene 
Looker, KMA 



Making Hay 



Home Office 



Farm Humor 



Storytelling; 
Michael 
Cotter 



Live Radio 

with Rich 

Hawkins, 

KRVN 



< attle 

Judging and 

Showing 



Live Radio 

with Rich 

Hawkins, 

KRVN 



Caring for 
the Land 



Midwestern 

Accordion 

Styles 



Food- 
ways 



Family Cake 
Recipe 



Heartland 

Noonday 

Meal 



. Making 
Sauerkraut 



Home Office 



Baking 
Bread 



Norwegian 

Christmas 

Dinner 



Learning 
Center 



Family Oral 
History 
Projects 



Learning 
about Seeds 



Tomato 
Packing 



Mandan 
Indian 
Legends 



Dance 
Party: 

Brian and 
the Missis- 
sippi 
Valley 
Dutchmen 



Special Demonstrations 

Threshing - 12:00-12:30, 3:00-3:30 
Milking the Cow - 4:00-4:30 

Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making • Whirligig 
Making • Corn Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Embroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Corn 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 

Dance 

Stage 



Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 



Topeng 
Mask 
Dance 



Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 



Reyog 
Procession 



Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 



Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 



Topeng/ 
Gamelan 

Workshop 



Children's 
Area 



Narrative/ 
Long- 
house 
Areas 



Learn 

Indonesian 

Batik 



Children's 
Gamelan 
Workshop 
(Meet at the 
Pendopo) 



Play 

Indonesian 

Games 



Make Your 
Own 
Shadow- 
Puppet 



Madurese 
Cooking 



Dayak Music 
& Dance 



Boat- 
building/ 
Fishing 



Dayak Crafts 



Topeng 
Dance Styles 



Sulawesi 
Cooking 



Pan- 
Festival 
Workshop 
Silk Weaving 



Dayak Music 
& Dance 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 


Plaza 


High- 
lands 


Tlingit 
Narrative 


Ikood 
Fishing 


Tiwanaku 

Planting 

Ceremony 


Shuar 

Women's 

Dance 


Taquile & 
Jalq'a 


Hopi 
Dictionary 


Subsistence 
Workshop 


Shuar 
Cooking 


Zapotec 

Corn 

Workshop 


Raven 
Dance 


Hopi 
Cooking 


Tiwanaku 
Weaving 


\ 


Who's The 
Scholar/ 

Ikood 
Cooking 


Taquile 
Dancing 


Weaving & 
Beading 


Dyeing 
Workshop 


Hopi 

Dictionary/ 

Jalq'a 

Carnival 

Dance 


Shuar Crafts 


Zapotec 
Crafts 


Basketry/ 
Andean 
Cooking 


Shuar Dance 


Mayan * 

Healing 

Ceremony 


Tourism 

(Taquile & 

Hopi) 







Ongoing Demonstrations 

East Java — Topeng Mask Carving • 
Reyog Headdress Making • Tuban Batik 
& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamu: 
Herbal Preparation 
South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 
Drum Making • Silk Weaving 
East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deco- 
rative Painting • Kenyan Bead Work • 
Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 
Kenyah Blacksmithing 

All-night shadow puppet performance 

9:00 p.m. - 3:00 a.m. 



Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincentenary 
Festival program, an exhibition, "Tradi- 
tional Native American Textiles from 
Bolivia," can be seen at the S. Dillon 
Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 10:00 a.m. 
to 5:30 p.m. 



Sunday, June 30 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage, g-. 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol v5 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 

11:30- 


Main 

Stage 


Narrative 

Stage 


Mcintosh^ 

County 
Shouters & 
Moving Star 
Hall Singers: 
Spirituals & 

Dance 


Spirituals & 
Blues 


12:00 - 


Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 


Songs that 
Pace Work 


12:30- 
1-00 


Fife & Drum 
Band 


Rhythm and 

Blues: 

Its Living 

Legac v 


1:30- 


Johnny 

Shines: 

Delta Blues 


Piano 

Workshop 


2-00 


Music in 
Community/ 

Music as 
Commodity 


2:30- 


Henry 

"Mule*' 

Townsem l 

< n\ < lountry 
Blues 


Sea Island 
Spirituals 




Robert Jr. 
Lockwi h id 

1 2-String 
Blues Guitar 


3:30- 
4-00 


( hildren's 
Material as 
Root Musk 


4:30- 


Reverend 
Let m Pinson; 

Spiritual- 
Sbspel Piano 


Songs that 
Pace Work 


5:00- 


Mamie Davis 
Blues Band 
Delta Blues 


* riiitjr M\ les 



5:30 



7:00 



Family Farming in the Heartland 



Music 

Stage 



Moon 
Mullins and 
the Tradi- 
tional Grass: 
Ohio 
Bluegrass 



Brian 

and the 

Mississippi 

Valley 
Dutchmen. 
Polka Music 



Conjunto 
Los Bri- 
bones 
Mexican 
American 
Music 



Chuck 
Sue hey and 

Mil I KM I 

Cotter: 
Farm Songs 
and Stories 



Midwestern 
Fiddle 
Contest 



Moon 
Mullins and 
the Tradi- 
tion j I ( TI.1SS 

Ohio 
Bluegrass 



Brian 

and the 

Mississippi 

Valley 

Dutchmen: 

Polka 

Music 



Narrative 
Stage 



Live Radio 
with Verlene 

Looker, KMA 



Keeping the 
Family Farm 



Rural Musical 
Settings 



Children's 
i horei 



Live Radio 

with Rich 

Hawkins, 

KRVN 



Women's 

and Men's 

R< .les 



Live Radio 
with Rich 

Hawkins, 
KRVN 



Hogs 



Talking 
Threshing 



Food- 
ways 



Swedish 
Family 
Recipe 



Home 
Office 



Czech 
Holiday 
Dinner 



( i ii iking 
w ith O 'in 



1 1- ime 
Office 



Czech 
Baked 
i loods 



Vegetable 

Canning 



Learning 
Center 



Storytelling 

with 

Michael 

Cotter 



Czech Card 
Party 



Quilt 
Piecing 



Tomato 

Canning 

Preparation 



Dance 
Party: 

Conjunto 
Los Bn- 
bones 



Special Demonstrations 

Threshing - 12:00-12 30, 5:00-3:30 

Milking the Cow - 4:00-4;30 

Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making • Whirligig 
Making • Corn Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Embroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Corn 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 

Dance 

Stage 


Children's 
Area 


Narrative/ 
Long- 
house 
Areas 


Sulawesi 

' Music & 

Dance 




Dayak Music 
& Dance 


Reyog 
Processit in 


Try Indone- 
sian Musk 
& Dance 


Kenyah 
Longhouse 


Madurese 
Cooking 


Topeng 
Mask Dance 




Play 

Ind< inesian 

( .ames 


Reyog 


Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 




Sulawesi 
Cooking 


Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 


Make Your 

Own 

Shadow 

Puppet 


Back-Strap . 

Loom 
Weaving 


Topeng 
Gamelan 
Workshop 




Dayak Music 
& Dance 


Reyog 
Procession 


Gandrung 
s* icial 
Dance 


Meet the 
Artists 


Herbs & 
Spices in, 

Indonesia 



Ongoing Demonstrations 
East Java — Topeng Mask Carving • 
Reyog Headdress Making • Tuban Batik 
& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamu: 
Herbal Preparation 
South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 
Drum Making • Silk Weaving 
East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deco- 
rative Painting • Kenyah Bead Work • 
Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 
Kenyah Blacksmithing 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 


Plaza 


High- 

lands 


Tlingit 
Storytelling 


Preparation 

of Altar 

(Zapotec >/ 

Preparation 

of Enramada 

(Ikoods) 


Tiwanaku 
Agriculture 

Dance/ 
Compara- 

Basketry 


Shuar Music 
& Dance, 

Tlingit 
Subsistence 


Mayan 

Healing 

Ceremony 


Katsina 

Doll 
Carving 




Ikood Music 

& Dance 

Zapotec 

Crafts 


Land& 
Traditional 
Knowledge 


Tlingit 

Ceremonial 

Crafts 


Children's 
Toys & 
Games 
Workshop/ 
Andean 
Cooking 


Andean 
Instruments 

Workshop/ 
Zapotec 
Cooking 


Rainforest 
Instrumental 
Workshop 


Painting & 

Myjhology/ 

Hopi 

Pottery 


Basketry 
Workshop 


Hopi 
Cooking 


Women's 
Songs/ jgr> 
Jalq'a \j»| 
Ceremonial 
Crafts 


Zapotec 
Feast/ 
Shuar 

Cooking 


Andean 
Dance 


SE Alaskan 

Salutation 

Dance 


Chiapas 

W raving 




Hopi 
Dictionary 





Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincente- 
nary Festival program, an exhibition, 
Traditional Native American Textiles 
from Bolivia','' can be seen at the S, 
Dillon Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 
10:0Oa m. to 5 30 p.m. 



Monday, July 1 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage. 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol ^5 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 



11:30- 



12:00 



12:30 



1:00- 



1:30 



2:00 



2:30 
3:00 

3:30 
4:00 

4:30- 



5:00 

5:30- 

7:00 



Main 

Stage 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Mcintosh 

County 

Shouters: 

Shout 

Spirituals .S; 
Dance 



Blues Song 
Swap 



Henry 

"Mule" 

Townsend: 

City/Country 

Blues 



Reverend 
Leon Pinson; 
Spiritual- 
Gospel 
Piano 



Moving Star 

HaU Singers: 

Sea Island 

Spirituals 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Johnny 

Shines: 

Delta Blues 



Narrative 
Stage 



The Johnson 
Era 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Guitar Styles 



Pan-Festival 
Workshop: 
Fife & Drum 



Women Sing 
the Blues 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Blues 
Composition 



Piano 
Workshop 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Dance 
Party: 

Blues 
Special 



Family Farming in the Heartland 



Music 

Stage 



Con junto 
Los Bri- 
bones: 

\k'\u ,in 

American 

Music 



Live Radio 
with Verlene 
Looker, KMA 



Midwestern 
Fiddle 
Styles 



Brian 

and the 

Mississippi 

Valley 
Dutchmen: 
Polka Music 



Moon 
Mullins 

and the 

Traditional 

Grass: 

Ohio 

Bluegrass 



Chuck 

Suchey and 

Michael 

Cotter: 
Farm Songs 
and Stories 



Con junto 
Los Bri- 
bones: 
Mexican 
American 
Music 



Narrative 
Stage 



Harvest: 

Image and 

Reality 



Farm Help 



Record 
Keeping 



Live Radio 

with Rich 

Hawkins, 

KRVN 



Children's 
Chores 



Quilting 



Live Radio 

with Rich 

Hawkins, 

KRVN 



Brian \r 
and the 

Mississippi 

Valley 
Dutchmen: 
Polka Music 



Moon 

Mullins 

and the 

Traditional 

Grass: 

Ohio 

Bluegrass 



Fences and 
Borders 



Rural Clubs 
and Organi- 
zations 



Chuck 5* 
Suchey: i 
Farm Songs 



Food- 
ways 



Baking 
Day: 
Fruit 

Cobbler 



Home 
Office 



Pie 
Making I 



Pie 

Making II 



Learning 
Center 



Farm 

Songs 

and 

Games 



Creating 

a Family 

Quilt 



Czech 

Feather 

Stripping 

Party 



Home* 
Office^ 



Pie 

Making III 



Pie 
Judging 

with 
Verlene 
Looker 



Mandan 
Indian 
Legends 



Special Demonstrations 

Threshing - 12:00-12:30, 3:00-3:30 
Milking the Cow - 4:00-4 30 ' 

Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making * Whirligig 
Making • Corn Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Embroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Corn 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 

Dance 

Stage 


Children* s 
Area 


Narrative/ 
Long- 
house 
Areas 


Reyog 
Procession 




Sulawesi 
Cooking 


Topeng 
Mask Dance 


Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 


Learn 

Indonesian 

Batik 


Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 




Madurese 
Cooking 


Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 


Make Your 

Own 

Shadow 

Puppet 


Dayak 
Crafts 


Topeng/ 
Gamelan 
Workshop 




Indonesian 
Textiles 


Try 

Indonesian 

Music & 

Dance 


Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 


Indonesian 
Dance Styles 




Reyog 
Procession 


Play 

Indonesian 

Games 


Drum 
Making 


Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 




Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 



Ongoing Demonstrations 

East Java — Topeng Mask Carving • 
Reyog Headdress Making • Tuban Batik 
& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamu: 
Herbal Preparation 
South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 
Drum Making • Silk Weaving 
East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deco- 
rative Painting ♦ Kenyan Bead Work • 
Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 
Kenyah Blacksmithing 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 


Plaza 


High- 
lands 


Haida,\^ 

Tlingit & 

Tsimshian 

Carving 

Styles 


Mayan 

Healing 

Ceremony 


Stories, 
Legends & 
Myths/ 
Andean 
Cooking 


Weaving 
with Bark 

(Haida. 

Lacandon, 

Shuar) 


Taquile 

Music & 
Dance 
Zapotec 
Cooking 


Hopi 
Pottery/ 

Jalq' a 
Carnival 

Dance 


SE Alaskan 
Narrative/ 

Tlingit 
Subsistence 


Mask & 

Dance 

Workshop/ 

Chiapas 

Weaving 


Painting A 
Land 


Shuar & 

Narrative 

Music 


Zapotec 
Crafts 


Comparative 
Weaving & 

Meaning/ 
Tiwanaku 
Weaving 


SE Alaskan 

Friendship 

Dance 


Shuar 
Cooking 


Hopi 
Silver- 
smithing 


Ikood 

Subsistence/ 

Taquile 

Weaving 


Shuar 
Music & 
Dance 




Haida & 

Hopi 
Basketry 


Access to 

Resources: 

Fishing & 

Crafts 


Zapotec 

Music/ 

Hopi 

Cooking 


Hopi 
Dictionary 

and 

Language/ 

Tiwanaku 

Planting 

Ceremony 


Carving 


Jalq'a 
Weaving 



Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincentenary 
Festival program, an exhibition, "Tradi- 
tional Native American Textiles from 
Bolivia,'' can be seen at the S. Dillon 
Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 10:00 i m 
to 5:30 p.m. 



Madison Drive 



Festival 
Site Map 



a 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rainforest 




o o 



— Zapot 

Tlingit & D ^ 

Haida Enrama da "otte: 

oo %T 

Shuar& n pla - z . 

Ach ^^>0 Medicine 
I l^' Lancandon 



Family Farming in the Heartland -v 



Old Time 
Threshing Demonstration 



M 



Farm 

Machinery 

Area 



Machine 
Repair Shop 




Music 
Stage 



Fence 
Building 



Quilting and 
Needlework 



Corn Palace 
Demonstration 



M 



Mandan Indian 
Agriculture 

Preparing the 
Soil & Choosing 

Seeds 
Raising Narrative 
Cro P s Stage 




Marketing and Livestoc k Barn 
— Harvesting — 




\ Livestock 
' Pen 



Jefferson Drive 



© Information 

(♦) First Aid 

(J) Restrooms 

Q Beverage 
Concession 

|J) Food Concession 

©Accessible to 
Mobility Impaired 



Hopi 
Crafts 

O 



/eaving 
Area 




Hopi 
Dictionaryl 

Suka Kollus 
Plaza V^""-, 

/ □ Taquile *y 
-jDjalq'a <^J ama< 
Chiapas 



Gamelan Making 



Administration 



Tiwanaku 



J L 



© 



© 



-®- 



Red Pressl 4^ 
Cross Volunteers 



Peformance 
Crafts 







Textile Crafts 
Boat 




Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



:<D 




Longhouse 



Narrative/Cooking 



/_/ / Shed^ ^ 

\\ / Pel 



\\/ Stage 



Museum 
Sales Shop 




© 



CD 



Pendopo / / Children's IV/ 
Stage ^ Area [/\ 



lamul 



o D © 



Arabbers 



© 



The National Mall 



Metro 

(Smithsonian) 



M 



Arabbers 

Narrative 
Stage 

© © 



Music Stage 

(Audio Loop) 




Roots of Rhythm . 
and Blues: The 
Robert Johnson Era- 




Sadder 
GaUery 



African Art 
Museum 




Madison Drive 



Festival 
Site Map 



/ 



;® 



/ "— Ss" 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Family Farming in the Heartland 






Old Time 
Threshing Demonstration 



B 



Farm 
Machinery 

Area 



Machine 

Repair Shop 



Fence 

Building 



Quilting and 
Needlework 



Corn Palace 
Demonstration 



^7\ Mandan Indian 
\p> Agriculture 

Preparing the 
Soil & Choosing 

s-71 Seeds 

2<J Raising Narrativer 
Cro P s stage L 




Arabbers 




Foodways and 
Home Office 




] law-stock 
1 Pen 



Marketing and LnvM(x k Ham 
-Harvesting- 




m 



Wood 

Crafts 



Learning 

Center 



Jefferson Drive 



Rainforest 




Pottery V \T~7 
Area ^rr,, 



Q O 



Tlingit & 
Haida lnr; ' mada 

oo %.. 

Shuar & r- 1 p , , — 

hu 5T>0 Medicine '0^ 

'Lancandon nUjalq'a ^-tVj, 
Hchiapas 



leaving 
Area 



Hopi 
Dictionary | 

Suka Kollus 

Plaza '"*-- 



D < 



& 



Administration 




Music 
Stage 



© Information 

® First Aid 

(J) Restrooms 

Q Beverage 
Concession 

tl) Food Concession 

©Accessible to 
Mobility Impaired 



Tiwanaku 



Enraniadfl \J 
J I 



© 



-®- 







Red 



Press 



^ 



Cross Volunteers 



Museum 
Sales Shop 




Metro 

(Snmlisi.ni.ui i 



El 



Aral il u-is 

Narrative 

Stage 

o o 



Music Stage 

( Audio Loop) 




Roots of Rhythm . 
and Blues: The 
Robert Johnson Era- 



Gameian Mak ing Forest, Field and Sea: 

peformance^ ^ ~g~ Folklife in Indonesia 

Crafts 







Textile Crafts 
Boat 





Longhouse 



/ / / Shed An Narrative/Cooking 

<-( /Pendopo / / Children's K~7\ Demonstration ,-, 

\V Sage Area |/\| j a , 



amu 



H D o 



Arabbers 



o 



CD 



The National Mall 




Sackler 
Gallery 



African An 
Museum 



Thursday, July 4 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage. ^_^ 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol \}[p 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 



11:30- 
12:00 



12:30 



1:00 



1:30 



2:00 



2:30- 



3:00- 



3:30 



4:00 



4:30 



5:00- 



5:30 



Main 
Stage 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Moving Star 

Hall Singers: 

Spirituals 



Johnny 

Shines: 

Delta Blues 



I [enry 

Mule' 

Townsend; 

City /Country 

Blues 



Blues Song 
Swap 



Dave 

"Honeyboy" 

Edwards: 

Delta Blues 



Mamie Davis 
Blues Band: 
Delta Blues 



Blues 
Special 



Narrative 
Stage 



Blues 
Composition 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Blues 
Harmonica 



Music in 
Community/ 

Music as 
Commodity 



Songs that 
Pace Wi irk 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Vocal Styles 



Guitar Styles 



The Johnson 
Era 



Family Fanning in the Heartland 



Music 
Stage 



Vetterli and 

Be met: 

Swiss Amen 

can Music 



Midwestern 
Parlor Style 



( a luntrj 
Travellers: 
Square 
I )ance 
Musk 



Eastern 

Iowa Brass 

Band 



Midwestern 

Parlor Style 

Musii 



Simanek 

! jnnly 

Czech Polka 

Music 



Vetterli and 
Bernet: 

Swiss Anjeri 
can Music 



Eastern 

Iowa Brass 
Band 



Country 

Travellers 

Square 

I »an< e 

Musk 



Narrative 

Stage 



Dairy 
Farming 



Butter and 
Eggs Sup- 
plementing 

Farm 
im i »me 



Live Radio 

with Lee 

Kline WHO 

l tes 

Moines, 

U iwa 



Stories 

about 

Children 



Heritage 
( Jardening 



\V< irking 
with Wood, 

Metal, 
and Stone 



Rural Ethnic 
Communi- 
ties 



Food- 
ways 



Regional 
I >essep 
Specialty 



l [ome 
i tffio 



! leartland 

Picnic I 



Heartland 
Punic U 



Home 
Office 



Cooking 
with Corn 



\ egetable 
Canning 



Learning 
Center 



Home 
Remedies 



Butler 
Making 

and 
Yodel ing 



Storytelling 

with 

\lk hael 

Cotter 



Learning 
about 
Seeds 



Special Demonstrations 

> Threshing - 12:00-12 30, 3:00-3 30 
Milking the Cow -4:00-4:30 

Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making • Whirligig 
Making • Com Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Embroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Com 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 

Dance 

Stage 



Gandrung 
Social 

Dance 



Topeng 
Mask 
Dance 



Reyog 

Procession 



Sulawesi 

Music & 
Dance 



G and rung 
Social 
Dance 



Topeng 
Gamelan 
Workshop 



suLiw < :si 
Musk St 
Dance 



Reyog 
Procession 



Children's 
Area 



Narrative/ 
Long- 
house 
Areas 



Make Your 

< twn 

Shad m 

Puppet 



1 r\ I ndo- 
nesian 
Musk -N. 

I Mi:- I 



Learn 

Indonesian 

Batik 



Play 
Indonesian 

I ,.iM|i ■■■ 



Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 



Madurese 

Cooking 



Jamu: 

Herbal 

Preparation 



Dayak 
Crafts 



Boat- 
building 



Instrument 
Making 



Sulawesi 

Cooking 



Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 



Ongoing Demonstrations 

East Java — Toping Mask Carving • 

Reyog Headdress Making • Tuban Batik 

& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamu 

Herbal Preparation 

South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 

Drum Making • Silk Weaving 

East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deo i 

rative Painting • Kenyan Bead Work • 

Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 

Kenyah Blacksmithing 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 


Plaza 


High- 
lands 


Tlingit 
Raven 
Dance 


Ikood 
Dance/ 
Zapotec 
Cooking 


Hop]*® 

^Dictionary/ 

Tiwanaku, 

Jalq'a & 

Taquile 

Cooking 


Shuar Music 
& Dance 


Jalq'a 
Carnival 
Dance 
Chiapas 
Weaving 


Andean 
Narrative/ 
Hopi 
Silver- 
smithing 


Haida 
Weaving 


Zapotec 
Land, Com, 
& Myth/ 
Taquile 
Weaving 


Hopi 
Pottery 


Tlingit 
Carving 


Tiwanaku 

Planting 

Ceremony 




Shuar 
Cooking 


Hunting & 
Animal 
Sound 

Imitations 


Hopi Doll 
Making 
(Katsina) 


Jalq'a 
Weaving 


SE Alaska 

Friendship 

Dance 


Ikood 

Fishing 

Workshop 


Painting & 
Legend/ 
Taquile 
Dance 


Subsistence 
Workshop 


Zapotec 

Music/ 

Hopi 

Cooking 


Hopi 
Dictionary 

and 
Basketry 


Rainforest 

Narrative & 

Music 


Mayan 

Healing 

Ceremony 







Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincentenary 
Festival program, an exhibition, Tradi- 
tional Native American Textiles from 
Bolivia.'' can be seen at the S. Dillon 
Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 10:00 am. 
to 5:30 p.m. 



Friday, July 5 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage. 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol ^S 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 



11:30 - 



12:00 - 



12:30 



1:00 



1:30- 



Reverend 
Leon Pinson 

Spiritual- 
Gospel Piano 



2:00- 



2:30 



3:00- 



3:30- 



4:00 



4:30- 



5:00 



5:30 



Main 

Stage 



Mi i\ ing si. ii 

Hall Singers: 

Sea Island 

Spirituals 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Blues Song 
Swap 



Johnny 

Shines: 

Delta Blues 



Dave 
'Honeyboy" 

Edwards: 
Delta Blues 



Mamie Davis 
Blues Band: 
Delta Blues 



Blues 
Special 



Narrative 
Stage 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



The "Cross- 
roads" Myth 



Guitar 

Styles 



Robert 
Johnson Re- 
membered 



'Women 

Sing iliL- 

Blues 



Pi a in i 
Workshop 



■ Blues 
Harmonica 



Blues 
Composi- 
tion 



Compara- 
tive Slide 
Technique 



Family Farming in the Heartland 



Music 

Stage 



Simanek 

Family: 

Czech Polka 

Music 



Country 

Travellers: 

Square 

Dance 

Music 



Eastern 

Iowa Brass 

Band 



Vetterli and 

Bernet: 
Swiss Ameri- 
can Music 



Midwestern 

Parlor Style 

Music 



Country 

Travellers: 

Square 

Dance Music 



Eastern Iowa 
Brass Band 



Midwestern 
Parlor Style 



Narrative 

Stage 



Talking 
Threshing 



The Rural 

Home and 

Yard 



Live Radio 

with Lee 

Kline, WHO 

Des Moines, 

Iowa 



Caring for 
the Land 



Rural 
Community 
Celebrations 



Changing 
Roles of 
Women 



Selling the 
Crop 



Food- 
ways 



Mandan 
Family 
Recipe 



Home 
Office 



Heartland 

\i h >nda> 

Meal 



Swedish 
Sausage- 
Making 



I Ii UIK' 

Office 



Czech 
Baked 
Goods 



Canning 
Meat 



Learning 
Center 



Fun with 
Popcorn 



Tomato 
Packing 



Farm Songs 
and Games 



Quilt 
Piecing 



Special Demonstrations 

Threshing - 12:00-12:30, 3:00-3:30 



Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making • Whirligig 
Making • Corn Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Embroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Corn 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 

Dance 

Stage 



Topeng/ 

t ..iiiK'Lm 
Workshop 



Sulawesi 

Music & 
Dance 



Reyog 
Procession 



Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 



Topeng 
Mask 
Dance 



Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 



Reyog 
Procession 



Gandrung 
Social 1 >an< ( 



Children^ 
Area 



Narrative/ 
Long- 
house 
Areas 



Make Your 

Own 

Shadow 

Puppet 



Sulawesi 
Cooking 



Dayak Music 
& Dance 



Play 

Indonesian 

Games 



Topeng 
Dance Styles 



Learn 

Indonesian 

Batik 



Try Indone- 
sian Music 8i 
Dance 



Madurese 
Cooking 



KciH .ill 

Long ho use 



Gandrung 



Blacksmiths 



Dayak Music 
& Dance 



Ongoing Demonstrations 
East Java — Topeng Mask Carving • 
Reyog Headdress Making • Tuban Batik 
& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamu: 
Herbal Preparation 
South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 
Drum Making • Silk Weaving 
East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deco- 
rative Painting • Kenyah Bead Work • 
Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 
Kenyah Blacksmithing 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 



Tlingit 
Storytelling 



Shuar Music 
& Dance/ 

Tlingit 
Subsistence 



Plaza 



Pan-Festival 

Workshop: 

Highland 

Vocals/ 

Shuar 

Cooking 



Taquile <S; 

Jalq'a 
Weaving 



Tlingit 

Ceremonial 

Crafts 



Rainforest 
Instrument 
Workshop 



Basketry & 
Weaving 
Workshop - 



Lacandon & 
Shuar Crafts 



SE Alaska 

Salutation 

Dance/ 

Totem Pole 

Carving 



Zapotec 

Corn 

Workshop; 

Hopi 

Cooking 



Ikood & 
Tlingit 
Fishing 



Pan-Festival 

Workshop: 

Instrument 

Making/ 

Ikood 

Cooking 



Pan -Festival 
Workshop 

Dyeing 
Workshop 



Ikood 
Music & 
Dance/ 
Zapotec 

Crafts 



Mayan 

Healing 

Ceremony 



Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincentenary- 
Festival program, an exhibition, "Tradi- 
tional Native American Textiles from 
Bolivia,'' can be seen at the S. Dillon 
Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 10:00 a.m. 
to 5:30 p.m. 

5:30 



Dance 
Party 

(Jalq'a, 

Taquile, 

Tiwanaku) 



7:00 



Saturday, July 6 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage. ^-. 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol vl» 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 



11:30 



12:00 - 



12:30 



1:00 



1:30 



Reverend 
Leon Pinson 

Spiritual- 
Gospel Piano 



2:00-1 

2:30 
3:00 

3:30 
4:00 

4:30 



Main 
Stage 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Moving Star 

Hall Singers: 

Sea Island 

Spirituals 



Children's 

Material as 
Root Music 



1 lenry "Mule" 

Townsend: 

i . ii\ Country 

Blues 



Blues Song 

swap 



J< >hnn\ 
Shines 

Delta Blues 



Lonnie 
Pitchford: 

Robert 

Johnson 

Blues 



5t00 - Mamie Davi: 
Blues Band: 
Delta Blues 



5:30 



Narrative 
Stage 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Guitar Styles 



Vocal Styles 



Blues 
Harmonica 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Women Sing 
the Blues 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Blues as 
Dance Music 



7:00 




Family Farming in the Heartland 



Eastern Iowa 
Brass Band 



Country 
Travellers 

Square 

Dance Music 



Music 
Stage 



Midwestern 

Parlor Style 

Music 



Vetterli and 
Bernet 
Swiss 

American 
Music 



Eastern Iowa 
Brass Band 



Vetterli and 

Bernet: 

Swiss 

American 

Musk 



Midwestern 
Parlor Style 



Country 

Travellers: 

Square 

Dance Music 



Narrative 
Stage 



Neighbors 



Grain: Seed 
to Market 



The Impor- 
tance of 
Farm Radio 



Keeping the 
Farm in the 

Family 



Cattle 
Judging and 

showing 



Rural Gathei 
ing Places 



Quilting 



Weather 
Re pons 



Food- 
ways 



American 

Indian 

Cooking 

with Corn 



Home Office 



Creating a 
Family Quilt 



Heanland 

Noonday 

Meal 



Italian 
Supper 



Home Office 



Swedish 
Baked 
Goods 



Vegetable 
Canning 



Learning 
Center 



Storytelling 

with 

Michael 

Cotter 



Learning 

about Farm 

Animals 



Tomato 

Canning 

Preparation 



Special Demonstrations 

Threshing - 12:00-12:30, 3:00-3:30 



Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making • Whirligig 
Making • Corn Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Embroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Com 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 
Dance 

Stage 


Children's 
Area 


Narrative/ 
Ixmg- 
house 
Areas 


Sulawesi 

Music & 

Dance 


• 


Madurese 
Cooking 


Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 


Try 

Indonesian 

"Music & 

Dance 


Reyog 


Topeng 
Mask 
Dance 


Indonesian 
Dance Styles 




Reyog 
Procession 


Dayak 

Music & 

Dance 


Gandrung 
Social 
Dance 




Sulawasi 
Cooking 


Learn 

Indonesian 

Batik 


Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 


Make Your 

Own 

Shadow 

Puppet 


Boatbuilding 


Reyog 
Procession 


Indonesian 
Weaving 
Tradition 




Topeng/ 
Gamelan 
Workshop 


Play 

Indonesian 

Games 


Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 





Ongoing Demonstrations 

East Java — Topeng Mask Carving • 
Reyog Headdress Making • Tubap Batik 
& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamil: 
Herbal Preparation 
South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 
Drum Making • Silk Weaving 
East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deco- 
rative Painting • Kenyah Bead Work • 
Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 
Kenyah Blacksmithing 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 


Plaza 


High- 
lands 


SE Alaska 
Narrative 


Mayan 

Healing 

Ceremony . 


Stories, 
Legends & 
Myths/ 
Hopi 
Silver- 
smithing 


Weaving 
with Bark 


Hopi 

Cooking/ 

Mask & 

Dance 

Workshop 


Weaving & 
Meaning/ 
Andean 
Cooking 

and 
Ceremony 


SE Alaska 

Dance 

Styles/ 

Tlingit 

Subsistence 


Andean 

Feast/' 

Chmpas 

Weaving 


Hopi 

Dictionary/ 

Animal 

Imagery 


Shuar 

Narrative & 

Music 


Zapotec 
Crafts 




I [opi 

Kaisina Doll 

Carving 


SE Alaska 

Friendship 

Dance 


Shuar 
Cooking 


Basketry & 
Design 


Ikood 
Subsistence/ 

Ikood 

Fishermen/' 

Taquile 

Weaving 


Access to 

Resources: 

Fishing & 

Crafts 


Hopi 
Pottery 


Painting & 
Land 


Shuar Music 
& Dance 


Jalqa 
Weaving 




Carving 


Zapotec 
Cooking 





Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincentenary 
Festival program, an exhibition, "Tradi- 
tional Native American Textiles from 
Bolivia," can be seen at the S. Dillon 
Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 10:00 a.m. 
to 5:30 p.m. 



Sunday, July 7 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in each program area for 
specific information. Sign language interpreters will be available for 
selected programs. Check the schedule and signs at each stage. ^-. 
Programs that will be interpreted are marked with the symbol vS? 



Roots of Rhythm 

and Blues: The Robert 

Johnson Era 



11:00 



11:30 



12:00 - 

12:30 

* 1:00 

1:30 



2:00- 



2:30 
3:00 

3:30 
4:00 

4:30 
5:00 

5:30 

7:00- 



Main 
Stage 



Moving Star 

Hall Singers: 

Spirituals 



Reverend 
Leon Pinson; 

Spiritual 
Gospel 
Piano 



Fife & Drum 
Band 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Henry 

"Mule" 

Townsend: 

City/Country 

Blues 



Dave - 
"Honey boy" 

Edwards: 
Delta Blues 



Johnny 

Shines: 

Delta Blues 



Mamie Davis 
Blues Band: 
Delta Blues 



Lonnie 
Pitchford: 

Robert 

Johnson 

Blues 



Narrative 

Stage 



The Johnson. 
Era 



Songs that 
Pace Work 



Guitar Styles 



Instrument 
Making 



Blues 
Harmonica 



Children's 
Material as 
Root Music 



Piano 
Workshop 



Women Sing 
the Blues 



Blues as 
Dance 
Music 



Dance 
Party: 

Blues 
Special 



Family Farming in the Heartland 



Eastern Iowa 

Brass Band 



Music 
Stage 



Midwestern 

Parlor Style 

Music 



Country 

Travellers 

Square 

Dance Music 



Verterli and 

Bernet: 
Swiss Ameri- 
can Music 



Michael 

Cotter: 

Farm Stories 



Midwestern 

Parlor Style 

Music 



Eastern 

Iowa Brass 

Band 



Country 

Tra\ ellers 

Square 

Dance 

Music 



Narrative 
Stage 



Rural Clubs 
and Organi- 



Importance 

of Farm 

Radio 



Home Office 



Hogs 



Rural Music 
Settings 



Making Do": 

Recycling on 

the Farm 



Marketing 
Networks 



Partnership 

on the 
Family Farm 



Farm Family 
History 



Food- 
ways 



Family 
Cookie 
Recipes 



Swedish 

Christmas 

Dinner 



Making 

Bread 



Home Office 



Canning 
Relish 



Cooking 
with Left- 

1 1\ ers 



Learning 
Center 



Heritage 

Gardening 



Fun with 
Popcorn 



Butter 

Making and 

Yodeling 



Storytelling 

with 

Michael 

Cotter 



Special Demonstrations 

Threshing - 12:00-12:30, 3:00-3:30 
Milking the Cow - 4:00-4:30 

Ongoing Demonstrations 

Wooden Bowl Making • Whirligig 
Making • Com Mural Decorating • 
Quilting • Rag Rug Weaving • Nor- 
wegian Embroidery • Feather Brush 
Making • Rug Knitting • Swedish 
Wedding Crown Making • Mailbox 
Painting • Crocheting • Fence 
Making • Machinery Repairing • 
Mandan Basket Making • Com 
Braiding 



Forest, Field and Sea: 
Folklife in Indonesia 



Music 

and 
Dance 

Stage 



Reyog 

I'nxc.ssii m 



Children's 
Area 



Narrative/ 
Long- 
house 
Areas 



Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 



Topeng/ 
Gamelan 
Workshop 



Gandrung 
SociaJ 
Dance 



Reyog 
Procession 



Sulawesi 
Music & 
Dance 



Gandrung 
social Dance 



Topeng 
Mask Dance 



Sulawesi 
Cooking 



Learn 

Indonesian 

Batik 



Children's 
Gamelan 
Workshop 
(Meet at the 
Pendopo) 



Make Your 

Own 

Shadow 

Puppet 



Meet, the 
Artists 



Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 



Madurese 
Cooking 



Dayak Crafts 



Indonesian 
Spices 



Hunting & 
Subsistence 



Reyog 



Dayak 
Music & 
Dance 



Ongoing Demonstrations 
East Java — Topeng Mask Carving • 
Reyog Headdress Making • Tuban Batik 
& Weaving • Gamelan Making • Jamu: 
Herbal Preparation 
South Sulawesi — Boat Building • 
Drum Making • Silk Weaving 
East Kalimantan — Longhouse Deco- 
rative Painting • Kenyah Bead Work • 
Rattan Weaving • Mask Carving • 
Kenyah Blacksmithing 



Land in Native 
American Cultures 



Rain- 
forest 


Plaza 


High- 
lands 


Shuar 
Narrative & 
Ceremonial 

Crafts 


Zapotec 
Preparation 
' of Altar/ 

Ikood 
Preparation 
of Enramada 


Comparative 
Basketry/ 
Tiwanaku 

Agriculture 
Dance 


Tlingit 
Narrative 


Mayan 

Healing 

Ceremony 


Katsina 

Doll 
Carving 


Subsistence 
Workshop 


Zapotec 

Music & 

Procession 


Land & 
Traditional 
Knowledge 


Haida 
Weaving 


Jalq'a 
Weaving 


Dictionary/ 
Weaving 


Andean 
Instrument 
Workshop 


Andean 
Cooking 


Shuar 
Dance 


Ikood 
Cooking 


Tales 


Hopi 
Pottery 
& Silver- 
smithing 


Mask 
Carving 




Chiapas 
Weaving 


Women's 
Songs 


Access to 

Resources 

Workshop/ 

Shuar Crafts 


Ikood Feast 


Painting & 
Mythology/ 

Jalq'a 
Cermonial 

Crafts 


Hopi 
Cooking 


SE Alaska 

Friendship 

Dance 


Andean 
Dance 





Ongoing Exhibition 

In conjunction with the Quincentenary 
Festival program, an exhibition, "Tradi- 
tional Native American Textiles from 
Bolivia." can be seen at the S. Dillon 
Ripley Center, June 28-July 7, 10:00 a.m. 
to 5:30 p.m. 



Festival Staff 



Interns: Lynette Chewning, William 
Kendrick 

Food Concessions Coordinator- Heidi 
Thoren 

Program Book Sales Coordinator- 
Isabel Dickson 

Public Information: Mary Combs 

Intern: Kira Harris 



Director, Office ofFolklife Programs: 

Richard Kurin 
Festival Director: Diana Parker 
Administrative Officer: Barbara 

Strickland 
Program Book Editor: Peter Seitel 
Sign Editor: Thomas Vennum, Jr. 
Designer: Joan Wolbier 
Assistant Designers: Carol Barton, 

Jennifer Nicholson 
Desig>! Intent: Laurie A. Manos 
Calligrapher: Susan Auerhan 
Publication Review: Arlene Reiniger 
Technical Coordinator: Pete Reiniger 
Associate Technical Coordinator: 

Connie Lane 
Technical Specialist- Linley Logan 
Technical Crew Chiefs.- Jeannette 

Buck, Holly Wright, Charlie Wehr 
Carpenters: Bill Foster, Gregory Stotz 
Technical Crew- Teresa Ballard, 
Somalith Bounmalith, Sunny 
Brown, Pheth Chanthapanya, 
Oswaldo Fajardo, Jose Garcia, 
Andras Goldinger, Chris Insley, 
Butch Ivey, Chris Jerde, Katie Lee, 
Scott Logan, Terry Meniefield, Todd 
Savitch, Melinda Sims, Alf Walle, 
Ted Watkins 
Tech n ical Crew Clerk/Typists: Cecilia 

Coats, Sherry Lynn Baker' 
Electricians: Gary Johanssen, Darrell 

DeMarr, Monte Leadman 
Plumbers: Jimmy Dickerson, Sid 

Hardy 
Supply Coordinator: Anne Martin 
Assistant Supply Coordinator- 

Marianne Balog 
logistics Coordinator: Polly Adema 
Sound Coordinators: Tim Kidwell, 

Tom Linthicum 
Sound Technicians: Eric Annis, Steve 
Edwards, Don Fetterman, Steve 
Fisher, Mark Fitzgerald, Dan 
Gainey, Tom Gartland, Gary 
Jackson, Gregg Lamping, Dean 
Langwell, Jens McVoy, John 
Reynolds 
Stage Managers. Jeff Anthony, Beth 
Curren, Miles Herter, John Kemper, 
Susan Levitas, Sue Manos, Al 



McKenny, Helen Monteil, Esther 

Peres 
Sound Crew. Andrew Finkle, Barney 

Venable, Kim Frame, John 

Mielczarek 
Festival Services Manager- Claudia 

Telliho 
Fiscal Assistants: Kyung Hee Stubli, 

Heather Bittner 
Clerk/Typists.- Minu Tahmassebi, Fan 

Oleson 
Assistant to the Festival Director- 

Francesca McLean 
Special Events Coordinator: Yulette 

George 
Participant Coordinator. Cilista 

Eberle 
Assistant Participant Coordinators-. 

Gina Fuentes, Christine Meyering, 

Janine Smith 
Intern: Laura Willson 
Housing Coordinator: Maria Parisi 
Social Coordinator: Johari Rashad 
Food ways Coordinator: James 

Deutsch 
Information/Accessibility Coord 'iuat< >r 

Diana N'Diaye 
Interns: Ernestine Sandoval, Katie 

Mize 
Sign language Interpreters: Candas 

Barnes, Diana Mele-Beaudoin, 

Roberta Pracher, Hank Young 
Volunteer Coordinator- Camille Inez 
Assistant Volunteer Coordinator- Amy 

Hansen 
Chief Volunteers: Willette Carlton, 

Pricilla Flowers, Marilyn Gaston, 

Johari Rashad, Neville Waters 
Sm ithson ia n/Folkways Recordings 

Director: Anthony Seeger 
Documentation Coordinator: Jeff 

Place 
Assistant Documentation Coordinator: 

Lori Taylor 
Interns: Ed Forgotson, Leslie Spitz- 

Edson, Alex Sweda 
Video Documentation: John Paulson 
Photographers: Richard Hofmeister, 

Eric Long, Dane Penland, Richard 

Strauss, Hugh Talman, Jeff Tinsley, 

Rick Vargas 



Rhythm And Blues: 
The Robert Johnson Era 

Program Curators: Worth Long, Ralph 

Rinzler 
Program Coordinator: Arlene 

Reiniger 
Program Assistant: Rosemary Leonard 
Festival Aide: Maurice Jackson 
Presenters: Lawrence Cohn, Susan 
Jenkins, Ann Lockwood, Barry Lee 
Pearson, Kate Rinzler, Candy 
Shines, Jeff Titon, Malcolm Walls 

Land in Native American Cultures 

Curator: Olivia Cadaval 
Coordinator: Vivien T. Y. Chen 
Program Assistants.- Celia Heil, Lidya 

L. Montes, Dora Rios 
Festival Aide: Dennis R. Fox, Jr. 
Interns: Carmina Augudo, Maria 
Crespo, Ilsia Dalila Mercedes, 
Olukayode Kolade, Jeffrey J. 
Leinaweaver, Anna Montoya, 
Michelle Spiegal 
Fellows: Feng Wei, Laura Larco 
Regional Coordinators: Jose Luis 
Krafft, Oaxaca, Mexico; Pilar 
Larreamendi de Moscoso, Ecuador; 
Elisa Ramirez, Oaxaca, Mexico; 
Oswaldo Rivera Sundt, Andes; 
Beatriz Torres, Chiapas, Mexico 
Presenters: Jacinto Arias, Veronica 
Cereceda, Andrew Connors, 
Richard Dauenhauer, Kevin Benito 
Healy, Tomas Huanca, Leigh 
Jenkins, Alan Kolata, Merwin 
Kooyahoema, Jose Luis Krafft, Pilar 
Larreamendi de Moscoso, Gabriel 
Martinez, Saul Millan V, Elisa 
Ramirez, Manuel Rios Morales, 
Oswaldo Rivera Sundt, Maria 
Williams, Rosita Worl, Irene 
Zimmerman de la Torre, Elayne 
Zorn 
Interpreters: Laura Larco, Luis Tassara 
Fieldworkers: Veronica Cereceda, 
Nora M. Dauenhauer, Celso Fiallo, 
Alejandro Flores, Barbara Fraust, 
Enrique Gonzalez, Ellen Hays, 
Tomas Huanca, Juan Jaen, Leigh 
Jenkins, Merwin Kooyahoema, 



Robbie Littlefield, Gabriel Martinez, 
Saul Millan V., MiguelPuwainchir, 
Julio Quispe, Manuel Rios Morales, 
Oswaldo Rivera Sundt, Priscilla 
Schulte 

Research Consultants: Beatriz Torres, 
Roxanna Adams, Jacinto Arias, 
Barry Bergey, Jose Manuel Del Val, 
Reynold Denny, Rayna Green, 
Kevin Benito Healy, Susie Jones, 
Alan Kolata, Emory Sekaquaptewa, 
Esther Shea, Carlos Velez-Ibanez, 
William Wallace, Rosita Worl, Irene 
Zimmermann de la Torre, Elayne 
Zorn 

Computer Consultants: Todd A. 
Ballinger, Mary Black, Arnold A. 
Bosserman, Kenneth Hill 

Translators: Ileana Adam, Celia Heil, 
Alicia Partnoy, Horacio Quintanilla, 
Dora Rios, Charles Roberts 

"Traditional Native American Textiles 
from Bolivia " Exhibition 
Curators: Veronica Cereceda, Gabriel 

Martinez 
Designer: Carol Hardy 
Design Assistant: Gloria Alan 
Intern: Era J. Schrepfer 

Collaborating Institutions: American 
Airlines of Ecuador, American 
Embassy in Bolivia, American 
Embassy in Ecuador, Botanical 
Garden, University of California, 
Casa de las Artesanias del Estado 
de Chiapas, Centro de 
Investigaciones y Estudios 
Superiores en Antropologia Social, 
Colorado State University, Cultural 
Presentation Office, Hopi Tribal 
Council, Direccion Integral de la 
Familia (DIF) de Chiapas, Mexico, 
Embassy of Bolivia, Embassy of 
Ecuador, Embassy of Mexico, Fruit 
and Spice Park of Miami, Instituto 
Chiapaneco de Cultura, Instituto 
Nacional de Arqueologia de 
Bolivia, Instituto Nacional 
Indigenista de Mexico, National 
Academy of Sciences, Pet Farm 
Park of Reston, Virginia, Semilla, 
Smithsonian Green Houses, U.S. 
Department of Agriculture 

Forest, Field and Sea: Folklife in 
Indonesia 

Program Curator Richard Kennedy 
Program Coordinators: Uaporn Ang 
Robinson, Sal Murgiyanto 



Assistant Program Coordinator: 
Katrinka Ebbe 

Fieldworkers- Rachel Cooper, Zailani 
Idris, Dewi Indrawati, Dloyana 
Kusumah, Sardono W. Kusumo, 
Halilintar Latief, Deddy Luthan, 
A.M. Munardi, Philip Yampolsky 

Interns: Suzan Harada, Dewi 

Indrawati, Anton Winthrop-Sakai 
Segal 

Presenters: Rachel Cooper, Virginia 
Gorlinsky, Mukhlis, Darmawan M. 
Rahman, Pamela Rogers-Aguiniga, 
Patti Seery, Herwasono Soedjito, S. 
Suprapto, Philip Yampolsky, Tinuk 
Yampolsky 

Family Farming in the Heartland 

Program Curator: Betty J. Belanus 
Program Coordinator: Barbara Lau 
Assistant Program Coordinator: Doris 

Dietrich 
Festival Aide: Christine Norling 
Intent: Susan Ratcliffe 
USDA Coordinator: Sue Nelson 
USDA Assistant: Esther Edwards 
Fieldworkers: Phyllis Brockmeyer, 
David Brose, Tim Cooley, Mark 
Esping, LeeEllen Friedland, Janet 
Gilmore, Judy Heffernan, Lisa 
Heffernan, Marjorie Hunt, Melanie 
LaBorwit, James P. Leary, Marsha 
McDowell, Bill Moore, John 
Reynolds, Larry Rutter, Lydia Sage- 
Chase, Dorothy Shonsey, Mike 
Shonsey, Catherine Swanson, 
Norberta Tijerina, Charlie Walden, 
Peter Wehr 
Research Associates.- Jane Adams, 
Eleanor Arnold, Barry Bergey, Ray 
Brassieur, Jenny Chin, Lynn Ireland, 
Gordon Kellenberger, Tim Lloyd, 
Carl Magnuson, Richard March, Phil 
Nusbaum, Steve Ohm, J. Sanford 
Rikoon, Howard Sacks 
Presenters: Eleanor Arnold, Barry 
Bergey, David Brose, Charley 
Camp, Mike Combs, LeeEllen 
Friedland, Judy Heffernan, Marjorie 
Hunt, Melanie LaBorwit, James P. 
Leary, Marsha McDowell, J. Sanford 
Rikoon, Howard Sacks, Lydia Sage- 
Chase, Mike Shonsey, Catherine 
Swanson, Jennifer Thisson, Charlie 
Walden 



Smithsonian Bureau 
and Office Support 



Office of the Secretary 
Office of the Undersecretary 

Office of the Assistant Secretary for 

Public Service 
Office of Elementary & Secondary 

Education 
Office of Public Affairs 
Visitor Information & Associates' 

Reception Center 

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Research 
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Office of Quincentenary Programs 
National Zoological Park 

Office of the Assistant Secretary for 

Museums 
Accessibility Program 
American Indian Program, National 

Museum of American History 
African American Culture Program, 

National Museum of 

American Histpry 
Office of Exhibits Central 
Office of Horticulture " 
Division of Agriculture and Natural 

Resources, National Museum of 

American History 

Office of the Assistant Secretary for 
External Affairs 



Office of Membership and 

Development 
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Finance and Administration 
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Services 
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Management 
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Services 
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Office of the General Counsel 

Office of the Inspector General 



Related Exhibitions at 
the Smithsonian 

Traditional Native American Textilesjrom Bolivia, S. Dillon Ripley Center, 

June 28 - July 7. 

Beyond the Java Sea, National Museum of Natural History, 
through July 15. 

Indonesian Village Worlds, National Museum of Natural History, 

through July 17. 

Nusantara: Lands and Peoples of Indonesia, National Museum of American 

History, through December. 

Court Arts of Indonesia, Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, through Sept. 2. 




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Penalty for Private Use $300 



No Postage 
Necessary 
If Mailed in The 
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First Class Permit No. 12915 Washington, D.C. 
Postage will be paid by Smithsonian Institution 

Smithsonian Institution 

Office of Folklife Programs 
2600 L'Enfant Plaza 
Washington, D.C. 20560 



You can hear the world' 1 on 

Smithsonian/Folkways Recordings 

and make the Folklife Festival last all year 

OVER TWO THOUSAND FOLKWAYS TITLES ON CASSETTE 
OVER FIFTY SMITHSONIAN/FOLKWAYS TITLES ON CD 



Folkways and Smithsonian/Folk- 
ways are two of the ways the Office 
of Folklife Programs supports the 
continuity and integrity of tradi- 
tional artists and cultures. Folk- 
-ways Records, founded by Moses 
Asch in 1947, was acquired by the 
Smithsonian Institution in 1987 to 
ensure that all the recordings re-- 
main available as a service to 
scholars, musicians, and the gen- 
eral public. All 2,000 titles, captur- 
ing the world's music, spoken word, 
and sounds, are available on Folk- 
ways cassettes. The Smithsonian/ 
Folkways label was founded in 
1988 for reissues and hew record- 
ings on CD and cassette. 

For a free catalogue of all Folkways 
cassettes and Smithsonian/Folkways 
releases, fill in the card below, fax 
202/287-3699, or telephone 202/ 
287-3262. 



YOU CAN HEAR INDONESIAN 
MUSIC ON ALL-NEW, DIGITAL 
RECORDINGS 

Songs Before the Dawn. Gandrung 
Banyuwangi (SF 40055) 
Music From the Outskirts of Jakarta: 
Gambang Kromong (SF 40056) 
Indonesian Popular Music Kroricong, 
Dandut, & Langgam Jawa (SF 40057) 




All the new Smithsonian/Folkways issues, in addition to many other Folkways 
titles are available in the Museum Shops sales area at the Festival site. Many are 
also distributed through Rounder Records. If you are unable to find Folkways 
records at your local record store, write for a free catalogue and order forms to: 

Smithsonian/Folkways Recordings, Office of Folklife Programs 
955 L'Enfant Plaza, Suite 2600, Washington, D.C., 20560 

Please send me a catalogue of Folkways Records. I would like information on 
the following kinds of recordings: 



~l 



Name . 



Address 



YOU CAN HEAR BLUES 
MASTERS ON REISSUES 

Leadbelly and Woody Guthrie Folk- 
ways: The Original Vision (SF 40001) 
Leadbelly Leadbelly Sings Folk Songs 
(SF 40010) 

Elizabeth Cotten Freight Train and 
Other North Carolina Folk Songs and 
Tunes (SF 40009) 

Brownie McGhee and Sonny Terry 
Brownie McGhee and Sonny Terry Sing 
(SF 40011) 

Lightning Hopkins Lightning 
Hopkins (SF 40019) 
Big Bill Broonzy Big Bill Broonzy 
Sings Folk Songs (SF 40023) 
Reverend Gary Davis Pure Religion 
and Bad Company (SF 40035) 

YOU CAN HEAR LAST 
SUMMER'S PERFORMANCES OF 
MUSICS OF STRUGGLE 

(produced in collaboration with Sony 
Music, Inc.) 

World Music of Struggle: We Shall 
Overcome (Columbia 47850) 

YOU CAN HEAR THE MUSIC 
OF PREVIOUS FESTIVALS 

Musics of the Soviet Union (SF 40002) 
Puerto Rican Music in Hawaii: Kachi 
Kachi Sound (SF 40014) 
Hawaiian Drum Dance Chants: 
Sounds ofPoiver in Time (SF 40015) 
Musics of Hawaii (SF 40016 cassette 
only) 

Look for these and many other re- 
cordings in the Festival Musuem 
sales area near the music stage, ask 
at your local record store, or (for 
the SF numbers) order by phone 
from 1-800-443-4727. 



Smithsonian 
Institution 

Secretary: Robert McC. Adams 
Undersecretary: Carmen Turner 
Assistant Secretary for Public 

Service: James Early 
Assistant Secretary for Research 

Robert Hoffmann 
Assistant Secretary for Museums 

Tom Freudenheim 
Assistant Secretary for External 

Affairs: Thomas Lovejoy 
Assistant Secretary fir Institu- 
tional Initiatives: Alice Green 

Burnette 
Assistant Secretary for Finance 

and Administration: Nancy 

Suttenfield 
Assistant Secretary Emeritus: 

Ralph Rinzler 

Office of 
Folklife Programs 

Director: Richard Kurin 
Administrative Officer Barbara 

Strickland 
Festival Director Diana Parker 
Director. Smithsonian Folkways 

Recordings: Anthony Seeger 
Senior Folklorist: Peter Seitel 
Senior Ethnomusicologist: 

Thomas Vennnm, Jr. 
Director, Quincentenary Proj- 
ects: Olivia Cadaval 
Program Analyst: Richard 

Kennedy 
Folklorists: Betty Belanus, Vivian 

Chen, Diana N'Diaye 
Research Associates. Marjorie 

Hunt. Ed O'Reilly, Frank 

Proschan, Nicholas Spitzer 
Technical Coordinators: Pete 

Reiniger, Reaves Fred 

Nahwooksy, Jr. 
Program Specialist. Arlene 

Reiniger 
Festival Services Manager 

Claudia Telliho 
Designer Joan Wolbier 
Archivist: Jeffrey Place 
Folkways Program Specialist 

Dudley Connell 



Quincentenary Coordinator 

Celia Heil 
Media Specialist: Guha Shankar 
Assistant Archivist: Lori Taylor 
Assistants to the Director: Yulette 

George, Maria Parisi 
Special Assistant: Rosemary 

Leonard 
Folkways Assistant: Chris Jerde 
Clerk. Typists: Lidya Montes, 

Minu Tahmassebi 
Folklife Advisory Council Roger 
Abrahams, Richard Bauman, 
Henry Glassie, Rayna Green, 
John Gwaltney, Charlotte 
Heth, Adrienne Kaeppler, 
Ban Karp, Bernice Reagon, 
John Tchen, Carlos Velez- 
Ibariez 

National Park 
Service 

Secretary of the Interior: Manuel 

Lujan, Jr. 
Director: James M. Ridenour 
Regional Director. National 

Capital Region. Robert G. 

Stanton 
Deputy Regional Director. 

National Capital Region 

Ronald Wrye 
Associate Regional Director. 

Public Affairs. Sandra A. 

Alley 
Chief ( 'nited States Park. Police. 

Lynn Herring 
Assistant Chief. I 'nited States 

Park Police: Robert E. 

Langston 
( ( unmander. Special Forces. 

Maj. Carl R. Holmberg 
Superintendent. National Capi- 
tal Parks - Central: Arnold M. 

Goldstein 
Chief, Maintenance. National 

Capital Parks - Central: 

William I. Newman, Jr. 
Site Manager. National Mall: 

Robert Fudge 
Employees of the National Capi- 
tal Region and the United 

States Park Police 



Contributing 
Sponsors 

Family Farming in the Heartland 
has been made possible with the 
support of the U.S. Department 
of Agriculture. 

Forest. Field and Sea. Folklife in 
Indonesia is part of the Festival 
of Indonesia 1990-1991 and has 
been made possible with the 
support of Yayasan Nusantara 
Jaya, Garuda Indonesia Airlines 
and American President Lines. 

land in Native American Cul- 
tures, co-sponsored by the 
Smithsonian Institution's National 
Museum of the American Indian, 
has been made possible with the 
support of the Inter-American 
Foundation; the U.S. Embassy of 
Bolivia; the Ruth Mott Fund; 
Sealaska Heritage Foundation; 
the Government ol Chiapas. 
Mexico; Institute Nacional Indi- 
genista of Mexico; Centra de In- 
vestigaciones y Estudios Superi- 
ores en Antropologia Social; the 
Hopi Tribal Council; and Ameri- 
can Airlines of Quito, Ecuador. 
This program is an activity of the 
Smithsonian Quincentenary Pro- 
grams. The Institution's Quin- 
centennial commemoration of 
tlie voyages of Columbus to the 
Americas focuses on the cultural, 
historical and scientific implica- 
tions of the pan-Hemispheric 
encounter that will continue 
to be of global impor- 
tance for centuries to 
come. 

Roots of Rhythm and Blues: 
The Robert Johnson Era has been 
made possible with the support 
oi Music Performance Trust 

Funds and the Smithsonian 
Institution's Special Exhibition 
Fund.