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1992 Festival of 
American Folklife 



Smithsonian Undersecretary Carmen lamer 
greets Vice President Dan Quayle at the 

1991 Festival of American Folklife. 

At home in official and unofficial roles. 

Carmen enjoyed and supported theFestival. 

She liked to visit with her family, and last year, as 

in previous years, she brought her granddaughters. 

Carmen's support continues to sustain us. 


1992 Festival of 
American Folklife 

June 25-June 29 
July 2-July 5 

Complimentary Copy 

Co-sponsored by the National Park Service 



Cultural Diversity and Dialogue: The Role of Museums 4 
Robert McC. Adams, Secretary, Smithsonian Institution 

The Quincentenary: Understanding America's Cultural Heritage 6 
Manuel Lujan, Jr., Secretary oj the Interior 

Festival <>l American Folklife: Not Just a Festival Unkind Kurin 7 

Thinking Back a Bit IIiws Lomax Halves 12 


The Great Loom: 
Weaving the Cultural Landscape of New Mexico Andrew Wiget 15 

The Virgin <>l Guadalupe Andrew Wiget 17 

The Klobase Festival ofDeming, New Mexico: 
A Time to Celebrate and Remember Stephan Moore 20 

Blackdom Philippa Jackson 21 

Seeking Life Tito Naranjo 23 

The Sephardic Legac) in New Mexico: 
The Story of the Cryptojews Stanley M. Hordes 25 

El gran telar: 
Tejiendo el paisaje ( ultural de Nuevo Mexico Translated by Jose Griego 29 

The Indo-Hispano Legacy oi New Mexico Enrique />. Lamadrid 30 

La Music a de los Viejitc >s: 
I he Hispano Folk Music ol the Rio Grande del Norte //nl; Loeffler 33 

Religion in Communit) Celebration Jose Griego 37 

La Vida Buena ) Sana: Curanderas y Curanderos Tomds Atencio 39 

Adobe Alberto 1). Parra 4(1 

Acequias Patricia D'Andrea 42 

Mining Folklore Patricia Musi( 43 

The Folklore <>l the Oil Industry Jim Harris 44 

UFOs and Nuclear Folklore Pete) White 45 

Preserving Traditional Culture in New Mexico Claude Stephenson 46 

Pueblo Pottery: Continuing a Tradition Tessie Naranjo 48 

Ganados: Revitalization ol Rural Life in Northern New Mexico Maria Varela 49 

The Santa Fe Railway and Tourism in New Mexico Peter White 50 

Cultural Tourism and Self-Representation Tedjojola 51 

Language and Storytelling Jose Griego 53 


Creativity and Resistance: Maroon Culture in the Americas 
Kenneth Bill>\ and Diana Band N'Diaye 54 

Maroons: Rebel Slaves in the Americas Richard Price 62 

The Political Organization of Maroon 
Communities in Suriname H.R.M. Libretto 65 

Arts of the Suriname Maroons Sally Price 67 

Maroon Societies and Creole Languages Ian Hancock 70 

The Maroons and Moore Town Colonel C.L.G. Harris 73 

The Accompong Town Maroons: Past and Present Colonel M.L. Wright 74 

Statement by Gaanman Joachim-Joseph Adochini, 
Paramount Chief of the Aluku (Boni) People 75 

Statement by Gaanman Gazon Matodja, 
Paramount Chief of the Ndjuka (Aukaner) People 76 

Statement by Gaama Songo, 
Paramount Chief of the Saramaka People 77 

Maroon Struggle in Colombia Gabino Hernandez Palomino 78 

Texas Seminole Scouts Charles Emily Wilson 80 

The Changing Soundscape in Indian Country Thomas Vennum, Jr. 81 

A Hopi in Two Musical Worlds Jacob Coin 93 

Cherokee Hymn Singing in Oklahoma Charlotte Heth 95 


Making the White House Work Marjorie A. Hunt 98 
Workers at the White House ,4 Photo Essay by Roland Freeman 104 

Festival of American Folklife 

© 1992 by the Smithsonian Institution 

Editor: Peter Seitel 

Style Editor: Arlene Reiniger 

Coordinator: Franceses McLean 

Designer: |oan Wolbiei 

Assnltiiii Designers: Rebecca Lepkowski, Aim I lansen 

Typesetter: Harl< twe 

Printer: Schneidereith & S. ins 

Typeface: New Baskerville 

Paper.LOE Dull 

Insert: ( Irossepointe Genesis Husk 

Front cover photo: Each December in many New Mexico com- 
munities, worshipers celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of 
Guadalupe. In Tortugas, participants gather at the tiny cap/7- 
la where the Virgin's image is kept. Photo by Russell Bamert 

Back cover photo: Friends and kin of a Ndjuka Maroon 
woman help prepare her garden for planting rice near 
Diitabiki, Suriname. The garden is in a section of Amazonian 
rainforest that has been cleared by burning. 
Photo by Diana Baird N'Diaye 

Cultural Diversity and Dialogue: 

The Role of Museums 

Robert McC. Adams 

Secretary, Smithsonian Institution 

An important challenge before museums 
today is to find ways to address themselves to the 
increasing diversity, and at the same time the 
growing interdependence and vulnerability, <>I 
soi ial life everywhere. Museums need to be pub- 
licly in ognized as important institutional means 
by which groups in our very pluralistic so< iety < an 
define themselves and find plans within the 
i hanging dynamics oi contemporary life. 

All museum visitors benefit from carefully 
resean lied and innovatively presented exhibi- 
ts his m which individual social groups define a\\i\ 
represent themselves through dialogue with 
si holars, e urators and the public . Broad educa- 
tional goals are served by dire( ting public atten- 
tion to constituent groups of this culturally 
divei se Mil iety a\\<\ to die complex variet) ol ways 
they combine to < reate so< ial life. Sua esslnl exhi- 
bitions ol this sort should enable us to review, 
revise .aid broaden public discourse. 

The festival ol American Folklife has always 
been guided by this set of concerns and, indeed, 
lias pioneered the type ol dialogue now i e< og- 
nized as basic not only to the health ol out muse- 
ums bin also lo the health ol our soe ictv as a 
whole. And ii is in this perspei tive thai I find die 
constellation ol groups assembled ai this Festival 
quite remarkable. 

The Columbus Quincentenary we mark ihis 
year gives us pause to reflect on the forces thai 
ovei die past 500 years have shaped today's social 

life in the Americas. The programs on New Mexi- 
c c i. Marc ic >ns in the Americas and the ( Changing 
Soundseape in Indian Country illustrate impor- 
tant historical and ongoing processes through 

whie h c nullities establish cultural identities in 

complex and dynamic social circumstances. 

Ihe Spanish Conquest established [he West- 
ern Hemisphere's European presence and us 
most widely spoken language. While' the original 
conquerors' c iilture did not value- the Native cul- 
tures it encountered, ovei the < enturies segments 
ol I lispanic and Native American and later Eng- 
lish-speaking and othei populations have, ol 
nee essitv . engaged one another in ways that have 
given rise- to today's lie h arrav of c ultural identi- 
ties. New Mexico's distinctive ( ultural landsi ape- 
has taken shape in this way, and today is c om- 
posed ol some peoples who sustain cultural iden- 
tities through centuries-old combinations ol Indi- 
an and European forms of thought and a< lion, 
and ol others whose basis ol identity lies in reaf- 
firming the wisdom and relevance ol ancestral 
ways, lint in all New Mexicans, as in people every- 
where, e ultural ide-ntitv rellec ts the- c hanges dial 
continue to be wrought from the- varieties of their 
SO< ial ene i ninlei s. 

Nowhere is the connection between i nativity 
and self-definition more clear than in ihe- c ultural 
identities ol contemporary Maroon peoples, 
whose ane esiors esc aped plantation slavery in the 
Americas and founded independent societies. 

Faced with the task of constructing and defend- 
ing their positions. Maroons creatively defined 
themselves from a variety of sources. While their 
political institutions, expressive arts, religions and 
other social forms were predominantly African in 
origin, they drew from a broad range of African 
cultures, and from European and Native Ameri- 
can cultures as well. Much of the aesthetic com- 
ponent of Maroon cultures — their vibrant tradi- 
tions of verbal and visual arts — encourages the 
cohesiveness of their society and voices themes 
that embody common experience and interest. 

"The Changing SoundScape in Indian Coun- 
try," produced jointly with the National Museum 
of the American Indian, explores ways that Indi- 
an musicians and their communities have cre- 
atively adapted elements from the musical tradi- 
tions brought to this continent from Europe, 
Africa and elsewhere. Although many of the 
forms of this Indian music are non-Indian in ori- 
gin, the themes and performance styles clearly 
address Indian experience and aesthetic expecta- 
tions. In their creative hands, external musical 
influences become part of the self-definition of 
Indian identity and trenchant commentary of 
what has been happening in "Indian Country" 
over the past 500 years. 

This year also marks the 200th anniversary of 
the White House, it too a legacy of our complex 
past. The White House is not a king's palace but 
rather "the people's house," at once national 

symbol, executive office and conference center, 
< eremonial setting, museum, tourist attraction 
and family residence. At the Festival we recognize 
the culture of White House workers, who have 
supported this broad array of functions over a 
span of history shaped bv remarkable events, peo- 
ple and social change. White House workers have 
been part of this history, and with their labor and 
dedication have made the White House work. We 
honor White House workers and their venerable 
workplace with a living exhibition that presents 
some of the skills, experiences and values 
through which they give shape to their occupa- 
tional identities and call our attention to an 
important human component ol the 200 year 
institutional history . 

Pausing to mark these anniversaries, muse- 
ums should consider self-representations of cul- 
ture such as these for what they tell their audi- 
ences about our changing social life, for what 
they can leach us about creative adaptation and 
self-definition, and especially for what they con- 
tribute to the role of museums as forums for cul- 
tural dialogues. If museums, like the Festival, can 
provide models for public discourse, raise cultur- 
al issues to national and international conscious- 
ness, and enable cross-cultural communication 
and understanding, if not respect, they will then 
have helped in guiding all of us forward to the 
next century. 

The Quincentenary: 

Understanding America's Cultural Heritage 

Man uel Lujan, Jr. 

Sec retary of the Interior 

This year is a spec one throughout the 
Americas and indeed, throughout the world. The 
Columbus Quinc entenar) gives us an opportunity 
tu examine oui histor) and the ways the world 
has changed ovei the past 500 years. Hiese 
changes have been momentous and have pro- 
foundly effe( ted the natural em ironment, annual 
and plant species, the movements of populations, 
and the development i >l ideas and forms < >l sc>< ial 
organization and c ultural expression. 

The U.S. Department of the Interior and the 
Smithsonian Institution think it is important that 
Americ ans undei stand their historic al and ( ultui- 
al heritage. This heritage is complex, involving 
centuries o( i reativity, conflict, c ooperatii >n .\\u\ 
cultural interchange across continents. Under- 
standing i>ni heritage is an important a< t < >l < nl- 
tural citizenship, not only for Americ ans. but foi 
people the world over. The Department ol the 
Interior, through its many bureaus sik h as the 
National Park Sen ice, and the Smithsonian, 
through its various museums and programs, have 
planned si ores ol activities to encourage public 
education so that in understanding out past we 
might more wiseh chart our future. 

The Smithsonian's Festival ol American Folk- 
life, < i >-spi msored b) the National Park Service, 
provides a dramatic venue for exploring out li\- 
ing cultural heritage. Here on the Nation's Ironl 
lawn, millions ol Americans can participate in 
cultural traditions that reach back centui ies and 

yet still provide meaning to contemporary com- 
munities and individuals. Visitors can talk to lolks 
from my state, New Mexic o, and discover how in 
the si mthwestern U.S., Native Americ ans, early 
Hispanic settlers and latter immigrants c 1 eated a 
robust regional culture. Visitors can meet and 
speak with African-American Maroons who resist- 
ed plantation slavery and maintained free, sell- 
reliant communities for hundreds ol yeai s. ( )ne 
can hear how < ontemporary Native Americ an 
musicians from across the continent have adapt- 
ed nontraditional instruments and styles in c reat- 
ing and re-creating their musu al culture. And 
here at the Festival, you can also learn about the 
1 1 ilt ure ol the W( irkei s at the White House who 
serve, maintain and protect that historic land- 
mark, instrument and symbol ol government. You 
c an, in short, meet with, speak to and be engaged 
by exemplar) lei low Americans who forge the 
links between out i ultural history and our cultur- 
al futiii e. 

I would also em ourage you to go beyond the 
Mall, to the plai es, communities and national 
sites ol these people and their lorebearers. See 
the White 1 Ii mse, \ isit historic Santa Fe, ( diat o 
Culture National Historic Park and Fort Union 
National Monument in New Mexico, learn about 
African-American Seminoles, and experience the 
richness and variety of American Indian tradi- 
tions through the numerous tribal museums and 
cultural c enters acn iss this country. 

Festival of American Folklife: 
Not Just a Festival 

Richard Kurin 

The video begins with elderly and lanky 
farmers from the U.S. Midwest, plucking their 
stringed instruments in a way suggesting the 
strangeness of their music. Next on the screen 
women from Iowa puff on brass trumpets; the 
camera angle and sound mix again suggests the 
exotic quality of their performance. Next come 
images of monumental Washington seen not so 
much as landmarks, but as evidence of the pres- 
ence of visitors from Chiapas, Mexico — the sub- 
jects of the video. Deliberately, a story of the 
1991 Festival of American Folklife unfolds 
through the eyes of a video crew that accompa- 
nied a delegation of native Mayan and Lacandon 
people from the southern Mexican province of 
Chiapas and documented their participation in 
the Festival. 

I was sitting in an auditorium in Tuxtla 
Gutierrez, the capital of Chiapas. The auditori- 
um was overflowing with hundreds oi people — 
the ten Chiapanecos who had participated in the 
Festival, their relatives, government officials, 
scholars and local citizens. It was December, six 
months after the Festival on the Mall in Washing- 
ton had featured, among other programs, "Land 
in Native American Cultures." which included 
people from Chiapas. Other staff and I had writ- 
ten our reports and reviewed the press coverage 
and our own video documentation, and now I 
was seeing how others had seen the Festival, how 
members of the participants' communities had 
construed and represented their participation to 
folks back home. 

Also exhibited in that auditorium was a jour- 
nal written by a Mayan storyteller, Xun Gallo, in 

"Richard. Kurin is Director «/ the Smithsonian Institution 
Center for Folklife Programs and Cultural Studies and a Pro- 
fessorial Lecturer at Thefohns Hopkins School of Advanced 
International Studies. Hereceived thePh.D. in cultural 
anthropology /row the University <>/ Chicago and first worked 
on the Festival oj American Folklife in 1 976. 

his native Tzotzil, published with Spanish transla- 
tion and illustrations. The journal, entitled Mis 
qjos vieron, mi corazon lo sabe (My eves saw, my 
heart knows) was a wonderful, serious, poetic 
.md humorous account of his visit to Washington 
and participation in the Festival. He had dis- 
cussed his work with the audience, academic 
scholars and Smithsonian program curator 
Olivia Cadaval before the video began. He and 
others spoke of the importance of the Festival in 
reaffirming cultural identity and raising con- 
sciousness about cultural issues that cross ethnic, 
national and international boundaries. 

This theme was echoed in the video docu- 
mentary that proceeds from the exoticized fami- 
ly farmers to the Chiapas group, and from them 
to widening circles of inclusiveness. First the 
other Indian groups at the 1991 Festival, from 
Mexico, Peru and Bolivia are included in the 
Chiapaneco Indian world. Then Alaskan groups, 
the Hopi and Ecuadorian Shuar are included. 
The video treatment then embraces the Indone- 
sians — Javanese, Dayak from Kalimantan and 
people from Sulawesi, also at the Festival last 
year — and finds they too are Indian of a sort. 
Then the bluesmen. Yes, they too are Indian. 
Finally, by video's end. the formerly strange fami- 
ly farmers reappear and are included — they loo 
are Indian; they too are humans with culture and 

A few davs later, Smithsonian Assistant Secre- 
tary James Early, Dr. Cadaval and I were in a 
small Chiapan pueblo visiting a family. One of 
the daughters, an excellent weaver, had been 
inspired bv oilier weavers at the Festival, especial- 
ly by the economically successful and well-orga- 
nized Peruvian weavers. She was determined lo 
start a weaving cooperative with other village 

This experience in Chiapas is a reminder 
that the Festival does not end on the Mall in 
Washington when visitors go home and the staff 


Xun Gallo 

All Corazon Lo Sabe 

packs up the tents. The Festival has always been 
designed to have an impa< i beyond its public 
education function with visitors. The Festival fre- 
quently plays a ( aiahiu role for tradition bear- 
ers, scholars, officials and others to ill ink about 
the practice, continuity, viability and creatix itv <>l 
gi assroots < ulture. Ii extends "bai k home," cer- 
tainly in the minds ol participants, but often also 
in the institutions and pi ilit ies ol < < immunities 
win isc members have come to sec and be seen. 
And the Festival, though ephemeral, leaves docu- 
mentary trails, images, ideas and experiences, 
which live beyond the ten days or so on the Mall. 

The dissemination oi the Festival through 
time and space is broad, and often outstrips the 
ability ol our stall to keep fully engaged with its 
numerous developments. Nonetheless, we feel a 
c 01 iimil n lent to those who have mil ked with its 
io i i eatc the Festival, and in mam cases, we con- 
tinue our ( ooperative effi >i ts. 

This scar, results ol such collaborations were 
seen in the I I.S. Virgin Islands, whose folklife tra- 

ditions were featured at the 1990 
Festival. As a direct result of that 
successful research, organizational 
and presentational effort, the 
U. S.V.I, undertook several initia- 
tives to examine the present state 
and possibilities of local cultural 
resources, foiningwith the newly 
formed and locally based Friends 
ofVirgin Islands Culture, the Festi- 
val was remounted on the island of 
St. Croix in October, 1991. This 
first Virgin Islands Folklife Festival 
reassured residents and especially 
voting people ol the powci ol local- 
ly produc ei I ( nh tn al representa- 
tions. Hall the population of the 
ten itory attended. The Festival 
became an arena and an idiom for 
discussing issues < >! It it al t ulture. 
Also participating in the Festival 
were Senegalese artists and the 
Freedom Singers, who had been 
featured along with the U. S.V.I, on 
the Mall at the Smithsonian's 1990 
Festival. The) offered local audi- 
ent es an important comparative 
pei spective on their own culture. 
The poignanc) oi the historical 
passage from West Ah it a to the 
Caribbean to the U.S. mainland 
was apparent ti » man) . and was 
tint lei st ored when Senegalese slo- 
ryteller Bigue N'Doye, joyful in her reunion with 
Virgin Islanders, spoke as il among lamilv. "I am 
happv to be here. I walk without niv shoes, so I 
can I eel the land upon which mv 1 1 aptured | 
gi andfathers walked." 

For many, as in the Virgin Islands, the Festi- 
val is no mere show or passing entertainment; no 
mere t anvas for the drawings of folklorists or cul- 
tural marketeers. It was and has been a means of 
raising public const iousness about t ultural issues 
and the society's future. The effort to remount 
the Festival on St. ( Jroix was preceded bv a t ul- 
tural conference, "(io Back and Fetch It," held 
on St. Thomas. The t onference brought togeth- 
er disparate groups ol people and interests — 
government officials, scholars, community 
spokespeople, tradition bearers, educators, busi- 
ness leaders, members ol the tourism industry 
and others. They examined strategies lor con- 
serving Virgin Islands t ulture and for using it to 
revitalize education, and promote sustainable 
economic development and environmental 

preservation. In addition to work with the con- 
ference, the Smithsonian's Center for Folklife 
Programs and Cultural Studies is collaborating 
with the U. S.V.I. Department of Education and 
the Humanities Council to develop a curriculum 
unit on local and comparative culture, so that 
students will have better access to their own tra- 
ditions, their own history and the means for 
interpreting and representing them. 

Most dramatically, the Festival program on 
the Mall in Washington furthered debate and 
discussion within the Virgin Islands about public 
policies relating to cultural issues. The intellectu- 
al engagement of the Smithsonian Center's staff. 
Festival participants and associated scholars with 
each other and with government officials and 
policy makers was a serious, sometimes con- 
tentious one — with strong debate and public 
commentary about how to address salient cultur- 
al issues in the Virgin Islands. In March the U.S. 
Virgin Islands Cultural Heritage Preservation Act 
was passed by the 19th Legislature and signed by 
Governor Alexander Farrelly. This law, a direct 
outgrowth of the Festival, establishes a cultural 
institute dedicated to the research, documenta- 
tion, preservation and presentation of local cul- 

Other states and regions of the United States 
have remounted the Festival — Michigan. Massa- 
chusetts, Hawai'i, most recently — and have 
tried, sometimes quite successfully, to use the 
projects as catalysts for research and educational 

Leona Watson (right) engages elder Miss Etta in 
intense recollection of Virgin Islands community 
at the Virgin Islands Festival on St. Croix. 
Photo by Joan Wolbier 


Ector Roebuck of St. Thomas delights local children with anansi stories at the remounting of the Virgin Islands Festival 
program at Estate Love on St. Croix. Photo by Joan Wolbier 

An aerial view of 'Aina Moana Recreational Area (Magic Island), a state park jutting out into the Pacific Ocean from 
downtown Honolulu, shows the site of the 1990 restaging of the Festival of American Folklife Program in Hawai'i. 
Photo by Carl Heffner 

Christine Won teaches children Korean drumming at 
"Folklife Hawai'i," a restaging of the 1989 Festival of 
American Folklife program in Hawai'i. These children 
were among the 10,000 school students from Hawai'i 
who participated in special Festival programs organized 
by local teachers with the assistance of Smithsonian 
staff. Photo by Ray Tanaka 

activities, public service and polic) debate. So too 
have othei nations, perhaps mosl dramatically 
India, used their Festival experience to mount 
similar presentations. 

Sometimes Festival programs have built insti- 
tutional relationships and em ouraged govern- 
ment. il attention and even policy shifts, as with 
the former Soviet Union's Ministry ol Culture, 
some ol whose collaborative proje< ts with us 
have continued after the demise of the U.S.S.R. 
The Soviet music program at the 1988 Festival 
for example, led to scholarly ties and commit- 
ments lot joint reseat ch on the transformation 
ol Russian, Old Believer, Bukharan Jewish, 
Ukrainian and Native traditions in the U.S. and 
the U.S.S.R. Despite recent events, this joint 
research continues. Under Smithsonian aus- 
pices. Dr. Ted Levin, an ethnomusi< ologisl bom 
Dartmouth and Dr. Otanazar Matyakubov bom 
Tashkent State Conservatory have been doing 
fieldwork among Bukharan fews in Uzbekistan 
and among those who have emigrated to New 
York and New [ersey. They have produced schol- 
arly articles and Smithsonian Folkways record- 
ings, e.g., Shashmaqam: Music <>j Bukharan Jews in 
Brooklyn and Bukhara: Miismil Crossroads of Asia. 




Uzbek folklorist Otanazar Matyakubov takes down a song text from Kholmurod Mirzozonov in the Valley of Yagnob, 
Tajikistan, June 1991 during a Smithsonian-sponsored fieldwork trip. Prof. Matyakubov subsequently did fieldwork in 
Uzbek communities in New York and New Jersey with American counterpart Prof. Theodore Levin of Dartmouth College. 
Photo by Theodore Levin 

Other such teams with roots in the 1988 Festival 
also continue their research collaboration to 
understand cultural continuities and transforma- 
tions among cognate peoples in the context of 
larger social and economic systems. We trust this 
research will result in a Festival program in 1994 
or 1995. 

Discussions also continue at the levels «>l 
communities and individuals brought together 
through the Festival. Peruvian and Bolivian Indi- 
an groups who met at the Smithsonian's 1991 
Festival have continued to talk with each other 
about cultural survival and its economic strate- 
gies since returning home. Perhaps the most dra- 
matic case of individual coiu.k t oi ( urred aftei 
the 1986 Festival. That Festival included pro- 
grams on the folklife of Japan and Tennessee. A 
cooper from Tennessee was intrigued by the 
techniques of a Japanese craftsman who makes 
casks for rice wine. Though they could not speak 
each other's language, they were able to commu- 
nicate because of a mutual familiarity of the 
hand skills needed for their respective crafts. 
Taken with the desire to learn more, the Ten- 

nessee cooper traveled to Japan, worked with his 
counterpart, and brought his new-found knowl- 
edge back home — no doubt much to the i ha- 
grin of future archaeologists who might have to 
puzzle over the confluence of bourbon and sake- 
related craft traditions. 

The catalytic role the Festival plays can be 
seen in the many media products — documen- 
tary films, educational videos, audio recordings, 
books and articles — that result from its research 
and documentation. The Italian-American stone 
carvers working at the National Cathedral partic- 
ipated in several Festivals. A documentan film 
about I hem In stall folklorist Marjorie Hunt and 
film maker Paul Wagner won Academy and 
Emmy Awards in 1985. We are just finishing a 
film to supplement a monograph on Onggi pot- 
tery, a project that grew from Festival research in 
1982 for a program on Korea. And we continue 
to work on others — from one on Salvadorian 
immigrant life in D.C., growing out of the 1987 
Metropolitan Washington program, to one on 
presentational techniques, filmed at the Festival 
last year. And — as in the case with the Chiapan- 
tmii ni/ page I ' 



Bess Lomax Hawes 

I listorians will eventually look in wonder, I 
think, at the far reaching effects ol the 1976 Festival 
ol American Folklife. In away, ii did all festi- 
vals do — interrupting tin- passing ol ordinar) 
time, providing landmarks lor Liter recollec tion 
and In ul i espite-s I loin tin- dav-to-dav dm nit; whit h 
energies and ideas lor tin- future < an lie sorted out. 
But this Festival was so big, and it involved so many 
people, that its slue] size affected in majoi ways the 
steady progression ol work that had already been 
going on lor dec ades in support ol the arts and cul- 
ture ot all the world's people. After all. another 
thing festivals traditional!) do is to bring people 
togethei and this one brought together for a peri- 
od ol serious work a serious gioup ol people. 
Almost every person ] know who is active today in 
the area ol public folklore parti< ipated at least in 
some small fashion in the 1976 Festival. 

B) now, it is impossible to determine just what 
ideas, whose energies, which programs grew out ol 
that extraordinary summer, but when I left in 1977 
to develop the Folk Ai ts Pi . igram at the National 
Endowment lot the Ai is, 1 know I approac lied ni\ 
new job with an impuic hasable wealth ol experi- 
ence. Fill ecu \e.u s later, with a lot ot bureauc rath 
victories behind us — the establishment ol state 
lolk cultural programs in almost every state and ter- 
ritory, the initiation ol the National 1 lei ilage Fel- 
lowships honoring individual traditional artists, and 
the funding ol nation-spanning lolk aits lours and 
radio series, feature films, inner city multic ultural 
festivals, artists conferences and hundreds ol other 
ingenious ways to further the varied arts of the var- 
ied At net ic ,\n people — the Folk Arts Program has 
an honorable history and a future ol enormous 
potential. In its continual attempts to be consistent, 
clear, fair-minded, foe ussed ,i\\(\ forward-moving, 
the Program has always depended heavily upon the 
experiences of the man) artists in this business; and 
the sunmiei ol 1976 brought togethei an unprece- 
dented number ol ai lists from whom to learn. 

( )ne afternoon al the 1976 Festival 1 heard that 
a young Sc ots woman was going to do a ballad pro- 
gram on the main stage. I knev bet primary Festi- 
val role was to work in the < Ink hen's Area, teac h- 

ing hei extensive lepei lone ol British traditional 
singing games, but I had alsi > heard she sang a 
great manv triilv unusual British and Scottish bal- 

lads, ll occulted to me that the prospect of occupy- 
ing the big bare main stage for an hour all b) her- 
self might be a bit daunting, so I dropped bv foi a 
chat backstage before she went on. And she said 
something that seemed to me to sum up one ol the 
most unremarked but most remarkable features ol 
ih, ii never-to-be-forgotten summer. She- said to me. 
You know I came here with my little- 
pack ot S( ots si nigs c in mv bac k. and then 
the next tlav when 1 walked up and down 
the Mall listening to the glorious Ah ic an 
drums and the gorgeous religions c lionises 
and the ini i edible stung bands and all the 
niiisii that's here from all round the 
world, I thought to mvsell. whv will anv- 
bodv want to listen to the little- old tunes 
that arc- all I know? And I hit really fright- 
ened, and I almost wished 1 hadn't come. 
But do you know, every time I a< ui.illv sing 
them, 1 just know deep down that they 
icallv are — the) re.illv ahsolutclv ale — 
the prettiest ol .mv thing' 
And she walked out on the huge stage- all 
alone, and hei clear voice rang out with confi- 
dence, and indeed I had to think that pel haps 1 1 le- 
vel v song that she- was singing al thai exact moment 
i oiild trulv be- the prettiest ol all. 

Somehow everybody always felt that wax. all 
summer long. Every singe-i . musician, storyteller, 
crafts workei participating in every one ol the 
twelve weeks ol that so little- heralded Festival 
llu illed to the exi itemenl and glory ol the- vast clil- 
feieiu es being displayed all around them. And 
everybod) was also thrilled to have it c|iiictlv and 
unostentatiously established lor themselves, foi all 
time-, deep clown inside, how equallv (il not indeed 
more equallv ) wonderful then own panic iilar ail 
was. Ibis has sinec- become- lor me- a lest lor the- 
sue i ess ot any multicultural presentation. If every- 
one (privatel) ) u ulv thinks that theirs was the- great- 
est while everybod) else's was pe-rle-i tlv wonderful 
too. llie-n we shall have together made the kind ol a 
le-stival — and I he kind ol small win Id loo — that 
we all dream can one- dav prevail. 

I inliri lln\ year, Bess Lomax Hawes retired as Directoi of the 
Folk \.rts Program at the Wational Endowment fen the Arts, 


film last year and documentaries made by film 
crews from Senegal, the Virgin Islands and 
Hawaii — others from back home use the Festi- 
val as a field for their own examinations and 
interpretations of cultural issues. 

With our acquisition of Folkways Records in 
1987, we have integrated research and produc- 
tion of new recordings with the Festival. The 

1989 Hawai'i program at the Festival produced 
research and documentation that led to three 
Smithsonian/Folkways albums, copies of which 
were distributed to every school in that state so 
that children could learn about their cultural 
heritage through contemporary media. The 

1990 Musics of Struggle program at the Festival 
resulted in a jointly-produced recording with 
Sony Records. Curators of the 1991 Rhythm and 
Blues program, Ralph Rinzler and Worth Long, 
are in the final stage of production for another 
Sony album that, with documentary notes, will 
provide an interpretative musical view of African- 
American cultural history. In developing the 
Indonesia program at last year's Festival, and 
with the collaboration of the Masvarakat 
Musikologi Indonesia (Indonesian Ethnomusico- 
logical Society) and a grant from the Ford Foun- 
dation, we produced the first three albums of a 
Smithsonian/Folkways multi-volume set of 
Indonesian verbal arts and music. The next 
group of albums is due out shortly. Producing 
them serves as a vehicle for training Indonesian 
students in fieldwork, archival processes and 
sound engineering. The Indonesian language 
edition of these albums will be distributed to 
Indonesian schools. 

Other publications engendered by the Festi- 
val are numerous. Some, like the recently 
released Smithsonian Folklife Cookbook (Kirlin and 
Kirlin 1991) may reach tens of thousands of peo- 
ple through print and inspire participation in 
and appreciation of regional cuisine and eco- 
nomics. Others, like scholarly and museological 
analyses of the Festival (Bauman and Sawin 1991, 
Kirshenblatt-Gimblett 1991, Kurin 1991) in 
Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics oj Muse- 
um Display (Karp and Lavine 1991 ) and other 
volumes and journals (McCarl 1988. Cantwell 
1991, Seitel 1991, Kurin 1992, Stanton 1992) 
reach specialized professional audiences and 
contribute to the knowledge of cultural repre- 

To be sure not all the impacts of the Festival 
are serious, profound or even praiseworthy. But 
many of them are. And they are part of larger 
efforts of communities and their cultures to per- 

severe. I just returned from India, where I was 
gratified to hear about the importance of partici- 
pation in the 1985 Festival Mela program and 
the related Aditi exhibition to the artists of 
Shadipur, a ramshackle Delhi squatters' slum. 
They well remember their experience on the 
Mall and their stunning effect on the American 
public. Laws curtailing their artistic practice were 
changed, and they gained organizational 
strength and civic recognition. Yet their main 
goal — to gain rights to purchase land so they 
can develop their own community and livelihood 
— has not been realized, despite promises from 
officials and even the former Prime Minister. For 
them, for collaborator Rajeev Sethi and for me, 
that Festival project still continues. 

The Festival, as a colleague of mine says, 
"never ends." Mined, transformed and analyzed, 
it continues to be a rich multi-purpose vehicle 
for researching, representing, expressing and 
making culture. And though it may be guided by 
Smithsonian stall and fueled by federal, trust 
and private dollars, there are many diverse indi- 
viduals, communities, artists, scholars, officials 
and others who build, shape, repair and improve 
on it and give it a life of its own. 

This is true this year as well. The White 
House program has helped reunite workers who 
share in 20th century presidential history; their 
experience will, alter the Festival, take the form 
of an exhibit and video documentary to be pro- 
duced in Presidential Libraries. The New Mexico 
program is accompanied by the first two of sever- 
al Smithsonian 'Folkways recordings, and discus- 
sions are underway for bringing the Festival ba< k 
home. "The Changing Soundscape in Indian 
Country" is first to be mounted on the Mall as a 
Festival program, and then to be followed by the 
production of Smithsonian/Folkways recordings 
and the mounting of a 1994 exhibition and per- 
formance program at the new George Gustav 
Heve Center ol the National Museum of the 
American Indian in New York. And the Maroon 
program will enable leaders and people from dis- 
persed communities, both joined and separated 
by 500 years of history, to meet each othei lor 
the first time and address common concerns. 

The Festival generally implicates and accen- 
tuates ideas about community and personal iden- 
tity, cultural values and policies held by those 
who participate. Participation in the Festival can 
be informed by the diverse concerns of tradition 
bearers, s( holars, officials and others. The Festi- 
val may provide memorable means to worthy, 
even just ends; and as the following account of 


an incident last year illustrates, the Festival may 
provide moments that unify people and ideas. 

It had been a long, hot day at the 
Festival. The partii ipants were ba< k at 
the hotel relaxing over after-dinner con- 
versation. An older Indonesian woman 
from Kalimantan (Borneo) was convers- 
ing with a man from North Dakota — a 
participant in the Family Farm program 
— with tin' help ol a translator. The 
older woman was delighted to learn that 
the man knew about growing food, she 
alsi i grew i rops. An animated exi hange 
ensued about the vagaries of weather, 
pesky insects, good years, bad years and 
other topics ot universal concern to 

Finally the woman shyly asked the 
question she had wanted to ask from the 
beginning. "Why are you always in that 
chair with wheels?" 

The man spoke about the an ident 
that had taken his legs. 

Her response moved her new friend 
to tears. "You ai e si > lu( k\ ." she said. "All 
ol us lose something ol ourselves in lite. 
I know main people who have lost 
pieces of their soul. You have onl) lost 
your leers." 

Kirlin, [Catherine and rhomas Kirlin. 1991. Smithson- 
ian Folklife Cookbook. Washington: Smithsonian Insti- 
tution Press. 

Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Barbara. 1991. Objects ol 

Ethnography. In Exhibiting Cultures: Poetii s mid Poli- 
tic s <>/ Museum Display, eds. Ivan Karp and Stephen 
Lavine. Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press. 

Km in. Ri( hard. 1991 - ( Cultural ( ionservation Through 
Representation: Festival ol India Folklife Exhibi- 
tions at the Smithsonian Institution. In Exhibiting 
Cultures: The Poetic s uml Politics oj Museum Display, 
eds. [van Karp and Stephen Lavine. Washington: 
Smithsonian Institution Piess. 

. 1992. Presenting Folklife in a Soviet- 

Amei ican Cultural Km hange: Publii Prat in e Dur- 
ing Perestroika. In I'nhlii Folklore, eds. Robert Baron 
and Nit holas Spitzer. Washington: Smithsonian 
Institution Press. 

Mi (ail. Robert. I9SS. Occupational Folklife in the 
Pn hi ii Sector: A Case Study. In The Conservation oj 
Culture: Folklorisls and the Publii Sectored. Burt Fein- 
tin h. Lexington: I niversitt Press oi Kentucky. 

Seitel, Peter. 1991. Magic, Knowledge, and Irom in 
Si hoi. n h Km hange: A Comment mi Robei i 
( lantwell's Observations on the Festival "I Ameri- 
can Folklife. JoumaloJ Unerican Folklore 104 (414): 

Stanton, Garv. 1992. the 1991 Festival of American 
Folklife. Exhibition review, Journal oj American Folk- 
lore 105(416):235-37. 

('.Italians uml Furthe) /.'■ 

Bauman, Ri< hard and Palm m Sawm. 1991 . The Poli- 
tics of Participation in Folklife Festivals. In Exhibit- 
ing Cultures: Poetics and Politii s oj Museum Display, 
eds. Ivan Kai p and Stephen Lavine. Washington: 
Smithsonian Institutii >n Pi ess. 

( am well, Robert. 1991 . Conjuring Culture: Ideolog) 
ami Magii in die Festival >>l American Folklife. 
Journal of American Folklore 104 (412): I 18-163. 

Karp. han and Stephen Lavine, eds. 1991 . / xhibiling 
Cultures: The Poetics and Politic s oj Museum lhsjil,i\ 
Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press. 

Levin, Ted and Otanazar Matyakubov. Bukhara: Musi- 
cal Crossroads of Asia. Smithsonian Folkways 
Recordings SF 10050. 

1 i \ni. I id and ( >iana/ar Matyakubov. Shashmaqam: 
Music "I the Bukharan Jewish Ensemble. Smithson- 
ian Folkways Recordings SF 10054 

Yampolsky, Phillip. Music <>/ Indonesia Series. Smithson- 
ian Folkways Recordings SF 10055, SF 10056, SF 



The Great Loom: 

Weaving the Cultural Landscape 
of New Mexico 

Andrew Wiget 

Before the people there was the land. High 
mountains in northern New Mexico fork south- 
ward, forming arms. One curls westward to 
embrace the high mesa and plateau land, while 
the other thrusts directly south to separate the 
dry grasslands of the east from the fertile valley 
carved by the Rio Grande. 

Stories tell that the First People found this 
land when they emerged onto its surface, born 
from the womb of Mother Earth. The Spanish 
and later the Mexicans also found this land, as 
they wound their way north on horseback or in 
carretas, following the course of the long, wild 
river, and establishing a permanent connection 
— the Camino Real — between northern New 
Mexico and Mexico. Then, from Texas, ( lalifor- 
nia, Oklahoma, came still others, who were 
determined to transform the land and tame the 
river. And today people still come, on family 
odysseys that began in Italy, Lebanon. Iran. 
Czechoslovakia. India, Poland, Japan or Ger- 
many. In one short stretch, the Rio Grande 
recounts this history as it passes near old commu- 
nities like San Juan Pueblo and Embudo, then 
the new atomic city, Los Alamos, and then Albu- 
querque, a city of a half-million people. 

Since the beginning of this century, New 
Mexico, now advertised as the Land of Enchant- 
ment, has lured tourists with the beauty of 
broad, dramatically punctuated spaces, a vast sky 
and the promise of viewing cultures fro/en in 
time. But an empty land and peoples out of time 
are false dreams. Societies use land in main ways, 
not all of them visible to rank outsiders. And liv- 

The New Mexico program has been made possible Ay the Slate i>/ 
New Mexico, with the collaboration of the Department of 
Tourism, the Ofjirr <>/ Cultural Affairs, the New Mexico Arts 
Division, the Museum i>I International Folk Art anil with the 
assistance »/ the Tourism Association »/ New Mexico. 

ing cultures are never at rest. This storied land is 
rather a great loom of space and time on whii li 
the complex social and cultural tapestry now 
called New Mexico is still being woven. The rich 
fabric that lakes shape on the loom is not 
smooth and seamless, but knotted in places with 
contest and conflict. Its design has not been 
fixed beforehand but is still emerging, and 
strains to accommodate resisting elements into 
patterns of precarious harmony. It has been that 
\va\ for a long time. 

Contesting Visions: 

Resistance and Accommodation 

Nearl) 15,000 years ago, the first human eyes 
to look on this landscape searched the grassy 
plains for dark clouds of the now extinct herds 
<>l great bison. Much later, but still three millen- 
nia before the Christian era. maize agriculture 
was brought to the area, enabling a settled way ol 
life. The permanent settlements later articulated 
with the vast Mesoamerican networks of trade 
and influence, and culminated in the Great 
Pueblo urban centers, probably multilingual and 
multiethnic, at Chaco Canyon and Mesa Verde. 
Internal social conflict in the context of climatic 
change later brought down this system, and the 
population dispersed from the San Juan Basin to 
establish the main' pueblos scattered throughout 
northern New Mexico that are today inhabited 
by their descendants. Later still came the Navajo 
and Apache, the Ute and the Comanche. 

Marching under a cross and earning a sword, 
Coronado entered the land in 1540 in his search 
for gold. He found villages of multistory 
dwellings clustered around a central plaza, and 
villagers who resisted his threats and would not 
bow to his authority. < oi onado's foray inaugui at- 
ed a half-century of expeditions that laid the 
foundation for Spanish colonization. In 1598 



• — — - I ■ *— — > • -^r> ■ — ^ -i—— - t - - 
. *\ .,'li'J FarmingcoT ! V (- 

I v, ;/ /„„„ i;.'"" ,.J ,. 

I\\ indow i ^^ i r 

Rock I [icarilla; '---, 
. Navajo ■ Apachei....j 


San Juan « 

t ' ' /. San Hdefon 

---■> Ite, res 2i • *S F. 

lG allup Canoncito /,,. r ( .„ J \ 

Navajo Santa Ana* t/. Sanio Doming* 

I~*-s \T /sun Felipe 

„f"i Vi jl ^ u '!'\ X"' - /•Sandia 

\1 \\ Ml Ml ( i 

| mm de < )riate led b_".l soldiei s and their fami- 
lies, II* | )i usts, 83 wagon-l( lads ol supplies and 
several thousand head <>l livestock into New Mex- 
ico. I liis gri nip established the firsl permanenl 
European colony near the junction <>l the 
Chain. i and Rio Grande rivers. As a result ol out- 
rages he committed when Indians resisted, 
( mate was removed from the governorship in 
disgrace. In 1610 Onate was succeeded b) Peral- 
ia. who established the capital al Santa Fe and 
laid ii out with a plaza and a c hurch according to 
the prescriptions oi Spanish c olonial law. Vil- 
lages and haciendas followed, bul resistance 
from the Utes and \pac hes often forced the 
Spanish subsequentlv to abandon more remote 
i.iiii lies and to consolidate their population in 
villages. Pueblo Indians sometimes responded to 
Spanish requirements for forced labor, demands 
for tribute paid in < orn and cloth, and the brutal 
suppression of theii Native religion with spo- 
radic acts of violence against missionaries and 
soldiei s. As Spanish settlement extended the 

el is co-curator of tin \'rw \lexiro program at the 
of \mericari I'olklife, and associate professor of Knglish 
oiirl Dure lot oj the \ : eie Mexico Heritage < 'en lei <ii Nero Mexico 

authority of Church and Crown, 
Native resistance grew. It reached 

a climax in the Pueblo Revolt of 
August ]f)iS0, a successful, con- 
certed attack ol die many Pueblos 
against missions and posted 
troops i il the Spanish colon) 's 
northern frontier. 

Few settlers ,\\)i\ no missionar- 
ies in the remote areas survived 
Ilhe Revolt, and the Spanish 
retreated southward to El Paso 
del Norte, the present-day Ciudad 
[uarez, Mexico. Main Pueblo peo- 
ples, anticipating the return ol 
the- Spanish, look refuge in (he 
Inn lei land among the Navajos. 
The Pueblo Indians shared with 
theii hosis a wealth ol traditions 
rooted in agri< ulture and the wor- 
ship ol masked spirits, whit h 
toda\ c ttlturall) distinguish Nava- 
jos from their ( lanadian 
Athabaskan relatives. When the' 
Spanish returned and established 
themselves in force in 1692, they 
found the situation c hanged c on- 
siderably. Main pueblos had been 
abandoned, and losses from wai and famine had 
signific antly reduc ed the Indian population. 
Alter I 7(H) man) ol the increasing number ol 
Spanish set tic- is were granted Pueblo agric ultutal 
land, and Native landholdings were reduced con- 
siderably. There began a long period of dense 
and pervasive interaction between the Spanish 
and Pueblo peoples, sometimes hostile, some- 
times benign. Its legac) is widel) seen toda) in 
sui names, foodways, a c urandero's vast knowl- 
edge oi loc al herbal medicines, and a Pueblo 
community's celebration of a village saint's day 
feast. Alter 1 70(1 the Spanish increasingly turned 
then attention to subjugating the Apaches, Nava- 
jos, ( ionianc lies and I'les, who regularly raided 
both I lispanic settlements and the Pueblos, now 
perceived as Spanish allies. 

When Mexico won its independence from 
Spain in 1821, Mexicans proudl) claimed their 
mixed ancestry b\ lighting nuclei the banner ol 
the Virgen de Guadalupe. This image- oi the Vir- 
gin with a dai k * omplexion had appeared to the- 
Indian. |uan Diego, in 1531. The Mexicans 
defeated the forces of Spain, who I ought under 
the banner of Maria la Conquistadora, an < )ld 
World image brought into battle- against the- 
Indians during the- I 7th century. The- land 
remt mi page 18 



Andrew Wiget 

In the year 1531 — ten years after the Spanish 
under Cortes took the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan 
— the Virgin Mother of Jesus of Nazareth appeared 
on Mount Tepeyac and spoke in Nahuatl, the Aztec 
language, to an Aztec Indian named Juan Diego. 
She told him to tell the Spanish bishop of Mexico 
to build a church for her on the spot. After two 
failures to persuade the bishop, the Virgin made 
roses grow in December on an arid piece of deserl 
and then told Juan Diego to take them in his cloak 
to the bishop. When he opened his cloak, the roses 
spilled out, revealing the Virgin's image. The bish- 
op was persuaded and the image on Juan Diego's 
cloak is enshrined today in the church he ordered 
to be built. 

Because of the Virgin's dark complexion, her 
Nahuatl speech, and her appearance on Tepeyac 
(also the site of a shrine dedicated to the Aztec 
earth-mother goddess Tonant/in), she celebrates 
the Indian inheritance of Mexico. Today, wherever 
people of Mexican descent celebrate with pride 
their heritage and their history of struggle for per- 
sonal and national identity, the Virgen de 
Guadalupe appears as the mother oi In nueva rata, 
"the new race." 

Los Danzantes of Tortugas carry the image of the Virgin 
of Guadalupe into the Casa del Pueblo for an all-night 
wake. El Volorio. Photo by Pamela Bamert 

Frank Alderet's bajado (lowrider) carries the image of the Virgin on the hood. 
Photo by Miguel Gandert 

Wood santos carving of the 
Virgin of Guadalupe by 
Sabatina Lopez Ortiz. 
Photo by Lyle Rosbotham 


-.. ■« 




Chetro Ketl, an Anasazi site in Chaco Canyon, was inhabited from the 9th to the 12th centuries. 
Photo by Lyle Rosbotham 

spt ead out under a new flag, but the relative is< i- 
lation ol northern New Mexico meant that little 
would radically change. This was not true of the 

In the late 1830s and early 1840s Mexican set- 
tlement began in earnest along the river between 
El Paso del Norte and Socorro. Land grants were 
issued to colonize the Mesilla Valley, an area cov- 
eted for its agricultural potential but heavily con- 
tested by the Apaches. The name ol Las ( Iruces, 
New Mexico's second largest city, memorializes a 
small fot est ol c losses on a mesa along the 
( lamino Real, where Spanish colonists were 
buried following a fight with Apaches. 

Newer colonies like Dona Ana. whose recent- 
ly planted ore hards had just begun to bear their 
first fruit, wen- soon swept up in what Amei i< an 
history books call the Mexican War. When the 
wai ended in 1848, all the land east of the Rio 
Grande had become American territory. 

The Mexii an government offered land giants 
west of the river to its former citi/ens who wished 
to i emain Mexican. In this way Mesilla was estab- 
lished, but in 1854, when the ( iadsden Purchase 
lie.ii\ was signed in its plaza, Mesilla too be< ame 
( ,m tet i itorv. With American acquisition 

came new enterprises — railroads, ranches, large 
farms — that transformed the landscape and dis- 
possessed its peoples. 

But southern New Mexico is and always will 
be sin fronteras, without borders. Nowhere is this 
fusion of peoples and traditions more evident 
than in the community ofTortugas, south of Las 
Cruces. Founded by Tigua families from Juarez 
and Ysleta del Sur whose ancestors survived the 
Pueblo revolt and fled south with the Spanish, 
the community ol Tortugas preserves traditions 
of Tigua origin, those ol Hispanic people from 
Zacatecas and other regions of Mexico, and 
those ol several Mexican Indian peoples. Today, 
El Paso. Texas, founded as a result of the Mexi- 
can War. and Ciudad Juarez, Mexico (the old El 
Paso del Norte), have a combined population ol 
more than a million and a half people, and 
togethei with southern New Mexico — from 
Columbus eastward through Las Cruces and the 
Mesilla Valley to Carlsbad — they form a single- 
zone of social, cultural and political exchange. 

Contested Spaces on a Storied Land 

Broad sweep of the earth under a brilliant 
sky. rugged mesas in bold relief against a moun- 


A cowboy herds cattle on the Bell Ranch ca. 1946. Photo courtesy Harvey Caplin Estate 

tain-rimmed horizon: this land shines like an 
invitation. Where cottonwoods and willows fol- 
lowed watercourses, multiplying in shallow 
stretches to form thickets, or bosque, agriculture 
was possible, and clay for homes and pottery was 
at hand. The uplands and mountains provided 
good hunting, and later good pastures for sheep 
and cattle. And those whose eyes could peer 
beneath the earth found turquoise, silver and 
copper, and later oil, gas and uranium. 

To the unknowing eye, New Mexico seems a 
vast and empty land, but even its most remote 
regions are culturally mapped; they are claimed 
by the imagination and the economy of more 
than one group and are often subject to compet- 
ing visions. The lava-flows south of Grants, which 
Hispanic settlers called El Malpais, <>r The Bad- 
lands, because they were unsuitable for farming 
or grazing, are a sacred place to Navajos, Zunis 
and Acomas who recognize there the fossilized 
blood spilled when the Great Monster was killed 
by the Culture Hero Twins. Today, it is also a 
national monument, developed with hiking trails 
and campsites for recreational purposes. And the 
scars of the nation's largest uranium mine, the 
[ackpile, which closed in 1982, continue to dese- 

crate the base of Mount Taylor, sacred to Nava- 
jos and Pueblo Indians alike. 

The contest of cultural visions does not result 
solely from differences among ethnic groups. 
Listen to the late foe Pankey, who ranched the 
arid lands near Truth or Consequences (former- 
ly Hot Springs): 

When I come here [in 1921] there 
weren't hardly any weeds in the country. 
And the big high wind, I guess — I don't 
know how else they got here — brought in 
a world of seed, brought in wheat seed, fila- 
ree and Indian wheat, all from Arizona. 
There's other different plants come in, loo. 
I don't know where they come from, but 
some of them's cow feed and some of 
them's not... .And dry farming didn't do the 
land here no good. Didn't have enough 
moisture. Farmers plowed up all the native 
grasses, then walked off and left it. Then 
the wind got lo blowing on it, kind of swept 
it off, and all kinds of noxious weeds grew 

When I was a boy, there was a lot of 
wildlife. But there wasn't any game protec- 
tion, and people killed 'em all off.. ..They 



A Time to Celebrate and Remember 

Stephan Mo a re 

The history of the Cze( h and eastern Euro- 
pean community of Deming began in the 1920s 
with the arrival of many immigrants from south 
Texas, who were for the most part pool cotton 
farmers of Czech ancestry looking for better 
farming lands. Most immigrants brought a 
strong sense oi Czech community and < ulture, 
and for a time, Deming was < onsidered a trilin- 
gual community oi English. Spanish and Czech 

The first Klobase Festival was held in 1928 to 
help provide financial support for The Holv 
Family Catholic Church. It was organized l>v 
frank Kretek St., Rev. J. Valines. Vi( tor Kostel- 
nick and their families. 

Klobase is a Czech word for the Bohemian 
sausage that is the main food served to partici- 
pants in this event. Men smoke klobase and bar- 
becue beef overnight, while women bake pit's 
,ind takes and make potato salad. 

The Festival occurs on the third Sunday in 
( )i tober, a dav that includes games, a large din- 
ner of klobase and beef, traditional ( lze< h <\\u\ 
easiei n European polkas and hops. ,i\it{ bingo. 

1 he Festival has developed through the years 
from a small gathering of families to a large pub- 
lic event. In 1991 close to 3,000 celebrants 
attended the Festival. During the earl) years ol 
the Klobase Festival all of the food was prepared 
at home, usuallv on a farm, but now. due to new 
health regulations, the food must be prepared in 

a central location. The central location actually 
increases the socializing attendant on the event. 
Tin- Klobase Festival provides an occasion for 
members ol the ( ommunity to come together 
and to celebrate the end of the cotton growing 
season. Some Festival participants live in other 
counties and even oihei state's, but every year 
they make the trip to Deming. 

Stephan Moore is n graduate student in history til New 
Mexico Mai, I nivenity. 

Men spend several days preparing sausage for the 
Klobase Festival in Deming. Photo by Stephan Moore 

killed deer here until you couldn't rest, [list 
big pa( ks ol people ( ame. And the beat s. 
the) got them too, you know. Not much 
chance of anything to hit lease. And the 
mountain lions, it the) hear about them, 
they'll be on their trail, loo. ...The hunters. 
sometimes they tell me to get off my land. 
( >h, 1 have a helluva time with 'em. (Par- 
sons and Garney 1987: 15-16, 42-43) 
I'ainilv iaii( hers like the Pankeys hardl) evei 
make ends meet; their average profit margin 
ovei a ten-year period is about one percent. They 
continue to ranch because they appreciate the 
wholeness ol a life traditionally adapted to a diffi- 

cult but compelling landscape. 

Family ranching has been substantially 
altered by the industrialization ol the beef indus- 
try. In some places in the state cattlemen use 
helicopters to manage vast ranges, and some ele- 
ments of ( owbo) i uhiii e. siu h as saddlemaking 
and bootmaking, have become high art. priced 
beyond the rea( h ol wot king cowboys. But many 
of the values and practices of traditional cowboy 
life can still be found on the small family ranches 
that survive in New Mexico. In some areas family 
ranchers work together on spring and fall 
roundups, with the men doing the branding in 
teams (rather than using the mechanical brand- 



Philippa Jackson 

In the 1840s Henry Boyer, a Free Negro from 
Pullman, Georgia, traveled to the Southwest 
while serving as a waeon driver in the Mexican- 
American War. He returned to Georgia and 
passed on stories of the Southwest and its wide 
open spaces to his family, including his nephew 
Francis Boyer. 

Inspired by these tales, in 1896, Francis and 
fellow schoolteacher Dan Keyes walked from 
Georgia to New Mexico and founded the town of 
Blackdom. Blackdom was once home to 300 
people who were drawn there by articles that 
Francis had written for southern newspa- 
pers promoting the idea of a self-suffi- 
cient community far from the persecu- 
tions of the post-Civil War South. Most 
who came were interested by the promis- 
es of free land. Like those who followed 
them, they came looking for a place to 
live, work, prosper and raise a family far 
from the ever-present racial oppression 
of Georgia. 

The community center in Blackdom 
housed the school and several church 
congregations and was built with fund- 
ing from the local school district — a 
contribution believed to be in response 
to local concerns about Black and White 
children attending the same school. 
"'Once there were more than a few, 
they'd do anything to keep us apart," 
relates Mr. Boyer. Hazel 


It was the scarcity of water that finally caused 
families to give up on the dream of the all-Black 
town of Blackdom. By 1920, the year of its legal 
incorporation, families had begun to drift away. 
Some families moved to nearby Vado, others to 
Roswell, Fas Cruces and even Albuquerque. 

Philippa /at kson is < oordinator <>/ the New Mexico program 
ni the Festival of American Folklife. 

Parker works on a quilt in her Roswell, New Mexico, home. 
by Gwendolyn Mintz 

ing chute), the women serving out large meals of 
beef and beans and pie, and the families togeth- 
er dancing at the end of work to familiar fiddle 
music rooted in the Ozarks and Appalachia. 
The coming of the railroad was a boon to 
ranchers. Herds formerly driven to local markets 
in New Mexico were now taken to railheads at 
Magdalena and Fort Sumner for shipment back 
East. By 1891, railroads had acquired nearly 3.5 
million acres of land, including right-of-ways — 
nearly three times the total amount ol govern- 
ment land sold to individuals. The railroad had a 
profound impact on all the people and land of 
New Mexico. The Navajo Reservation was 

"checkei boarded," with alternating sections of 
land allocated to the railroad and to the Indians, 
seriously and permanently disrupting family and 
community life. Many Indians left traditional 
agriculture behind for wage labor on the rail- 
roads. The railroad also brought immigrants to 
the state and powered the boom in health-seek- 
ers and tourists at the beginning of this century. 
Towns like Deming and Clovis were born with 
the railroad. And railroad lore is very much a 
part of the state's cultural profile. 

The railroads also transported workers and 
materials to and Ik mi the main mining districts 
that sprung up around the state in the last quar- 


Drummers accompany Comanche dancers at the San lldefonso Pueblo patronal feast, January 
23, 1992. Photo by Philippa Jackson 

terofthe 19th century. Indians had mined 
turquoise long before the coming of the Euro- 
peans, and the Spanish had copper mines almost 
as soon as they arrived. Silver and gold were 
mined in southern New Mexico, giving rise to 
stories of lost mines and buried treasures. The 
Apa< lie leader Victorio is said lo have buried a 
treasure of stolen gold bullion in a mountain 
named for him located now on the White Sands 
Missile Range; an active recovery effort is still 
underway. At Lake Valley's Bridal Veil mine the 
silver lode was so rich, it is said one could hold a 
candle to the wall of the shaft and melt sterling 
out of the rock. And to mining boom towns tame 
colorful figures such as Hillsboro's famous 
madame, Sadie Orchard, reputed, among other 
things, to have released her employees during 
the fin epidemic of 1918 to serve as nurses, and, 
for reasons best known to herself, to have set off 
a stick ot dynamite beneath the ( hair of her hus- 
band's friend. 

Today, extractive industries are still a critical 
element in New Mexico's economy, (.old and sil- 
ver have gone, lint "black gold" was found in 
southeastern New Mexico in the 1920s and 
began an oil and gas boom in the region thai has 
survived several setba< ks. And a new yellow ore 
— uranium — was an important resource espe- 
cially in the 1970s and 1980s. These industries 
have shaped a body of workei s' oc< upational 
lore foe used on skill and danger, but have 
scai ted the land badly and altered the lives of its 

Elizabeth Taliman with niece Shannon Vigil, and daugh- 
ter Zonie Miera, participate in festivities of San lldefon- 
so Feast Day. Their family is of Cochiti, Navajo, San llde- 
fonso and Hispanic heritage. Photo by Philippa Jackson 

inhabitants forever. This is especially true in the 
uranium belt ol northeast New Mexico, where 
Indian land and Indian health has been ruined 
by the mining and the milling of the yellow ore. 
It is no wonder then, that Leslie Silko, the promi- 
nent novelist raised at l.aguna, has compared the 
blast pattern left by the first atomic blast at Trini- 
ty Site in White Sands, New Mexico, lo an evil 
sandpainting that celebrates death not life. 
cm/ mi page 24 




Tito Na ran jo 

A Hopi potter, Al Qoyawayma aptly expressed 
Pueblo reverence for the land when he said 
about earth and clay, "I know that some of the 
clay may even contain the dust of my ancestors 
— so — how respectful I must be and think, per- 
haps I too might become part of a vessel, some- 
day!" (Trimble 1987). 

The Tewa Pueblos of north central New Mexi- 
co practice a philosophy of daily life that they 
refer to as Gi Wonts/ Tuenji, "We are seeking 
Life." Complementary to Seeking Life are the 
concepts of Tsigikan, Tsekana Kanpoor "We have 
been loved, we have been honored (by our 
supernaturals)." These concepts signify actual- 
ization and fulfillment in Seeking Life. 

Seeking Life is process, practiced in a relative 
and bounded sense by children, adolescents and 
young adults, who have yet to "blossom" as Tewa. 
Flowering occurs sometime in adulthood when 
individuals become full Tewas. This flowering 
renders them completed or "finished" people: 
life's many experiences have taught the adult 
Tewa the multiple meanings of Seeking Life. 

Life experiences in traditional contexts are 
necessary keys to this Tewa processual way of liv- 
ing. A primary experience necessary for actual- 
ization (the process that leads to "flowering") is 
connectedness with the land, Nambi Gia, our 
Mother Earth. Every Tewa adult has learned the 
spiritual essence of all so-called "inanimate" 
objects and living organisms, which include dirt, 
rock, trees, grass, sky, clouds, air and animals; all 
move in synchronized cycles of life. One's own 
life also becomes an extension of these general- 
ized yet specific life forms. A natural conse- 
quence of this perspective is reverence for the 
entire context, which in contemporary America 
is called the ecological environment. 

Another example of the implications of Seek- 
ing Life is taken from the sky, when a cloud is 
not a cloud. A cloud is personified as a spirit, 
and so when thunderheads amass over Southwest 
summer skies, a Tewa will say, "They (supernatu- 
rals) are preparing to visit us. We hope they will 
bless us todav" While on a walk, the same Tewa 
may find a stone of pleasing shape or colors. 
With cupped hands, the stone is swooped past 
his open mouth as air surrounding the stone is 

inhaled. The stone may be returned with these 
words, "Thank you, you have shared your spirit 
and life with me today." Taking breath, haa 
honde, recognizes the spiritual essence of suppos- 
edly inanimate objects. 

Religious ceremony and dances bring life to 
individuals and the community in a ceremonial 
completion of Seeking Life. Any dance with reli- 
gious significance must include the use of Tse, or 
evergreens, which symbolize the circularity of life 
and especially of water. Of all evergreens, the 
douglas fir is revered as an intermediary to 
supernaturals who bring Tewa the good life. A 
small douglas fir always stands in kiva corners 
during practices for ceremonial dances and 
receives the cornmeal offered to it by all dancers. 
After the tree is so used, it is returned to the Rio 
Grande, whose water takes the spirit of the fir 
and recycles it — through the circularity of water 
— to ocean, to clouds, to rain and to its return 
back to all fir trees. Sometime in a person's late 
maturity in Tewa thought, all pieces of oral tradi- 
tion come to fit together, and adults conn- h > 
realize that they are a part of the context and 
everything in their context is a part of them- 

On any ordinary day when a Tewa stands and 
offers cornmeal to thank supernaturals as the 
first glimmer of light defines the Sangre De 
Cristo Mountains on the eastern horizon, this 
prayer may be uttered. 

Ye who are not humans 

Ye who are spiritual beings 

I thank you for strength 

strength given to my arms 

strength given to my legs 

strength to think good thoughts. 

I thank you for life today. 

May it be in unity with 

this ground upon which I stand. 
A Tewa has been seeking life. A Tewa has 
found life. 

Tito Naranjo, from Santa ('lorn Pueblo, is a free-lance writer 
livingin Mora, New Mexico. 


Trimble, Stephen. 1987. Talkingwith the Cloy. Santa Fe: 
School of American Research Press. 


Life on the Land 

In New Mexico, land, water and people ai e 
intertwined in ancient, profound and intricate 
ways. N( iwhere is this more immediately visible 
than in the cultivated fields, the verge that lies 
between the village and the open space of moun- 
tains, desert and range. Fields may be intimate 
environments, like the historic Zuni waffle gar- 
dens, whose enclosed, raised bed construction 
conserve the water carried to it in pots like an 
offering. Fields may be planted in Hood plains, 
with small diversion dams, to channel runoff to 
the thirsty corn. The\ may be tin farms, unirri- 
gated plots ranging from an acre <>l Indian corn 
to more than 100 acres of soybean. The) may be 
long strips oi irrigated land, subdivided within a 
plot held hv an I lispanit lamilv lor more than 
200 years, which cling to the branches of the ace- 
quia madre, the mother ditch. Oi the) may be vast 
fields ol ( otton linked within an elaborate irriga- 
tion disti u t to Ret tarnation Servi< e dams. 

Fields are often not onl) a souk e of food, bul 
a lot us ol faith and communit) responsibility. 
Some Indians plant prayer feathers in their fields 
to bring rain, and they sing and dance lor the 
growing corn that eventually becomes their 
flesh, a gilt ol Mother Faith. In northern Rio 
Grande Pueblos, social organization often 
reflet ted division between the summer and win- 
ter seasons: the communities were divided into 
groups known as Squash and Turquoise people. 
and through them communit) laboi was mobi- 
lized to tend the elaborate irrigation systems 
established before the coming ol the Spanish. 

1- New here. Hispanic village! s ( luster behind 
the image ol San Ysidro, patron saint ol farmers, 
as then procession winds its way from i hun h to 
the blessing of the fields. The first collec tive 
work undertaken b) the founders oi these small 
villages was to t acequia irrigation and 
build a church. Historically, field and church 
were also brought together in the role ol the 
maynrdomos, who were responsible for supervising 
the work on the ditc lies, the distribution ol 
water, and the prodiu tion oi a village saint's dav 

And in anothet pla< e, on the dry lands of the 
Llano 1- '.slat ado, an Anglo dowsei I eels the powei 
ol the water witch in his hands pulling the wand 
down towards the water that waits lor t rops. 
Meanwhile, others worn that walei allotment 
i ivei ages on the Pecos River — foi which Texas 
must now he < omprnsaied — will restrict their 
own pi odui in in . 

Historically, the meeting place lor these 

divergent interests has been the village pla/a. 
The familiar town square of an English village. 
widelv replicated in New England, originated in 
the common ground set aside for grazing cattle, 
later evolving into a park-like setting lor hunt. in 
socializing. Both [he Spanish colonial plaza and 
the Pueblo Indian plaza, on the other hand. 
independentl) began as open spaces for people 
to come together lor a wide variety <>l at tivities: 
political action and public gossip, markets and 
trade lairs, .mil sat red processions and ritual 
dant e. 

file Spanish village plan as set forth in the 
C( ilonial dec rets ol Philip II required new settle- 
ments to maintain a central block ol public 
space. An adjacent block was dedicated to the 
church, whit h fronted the plaza, and another 
adjacent blot k was given over to government 
business. The other two sides ol the puhlit space 
wt-i e ot t upied by commercial activity and oc< a- 
sionall) by resident es, though most residents 
ret civ cd quarter-block allotments, whit h the) 
cm losed with walls closely fronting the principal 

The i hun h ant holed the pla/a and t onse- 
t i ated its spat e with faith. From the church a 
saint's dav procession went out t arrying the 
saint's image through the plaza and into the his- 
toric core of the community. From the t hurch 
1 us Posadas began: a combination ol novena and 
I oik drama on the nine days before ( ihristmas, 
the pioc ession reenac is. in village streets and 
homes. Man and Joseph's search through Beth- 
lehem lor lodging. Before the doors ol the 
church Matachines danced in honor oi a saint or 
the- Virgin ol ( .iiadalupe. and dramatized the 
Struggle between grate mm\ evil and the protec- 
tion act oi ded to the pure soul lor her sale del iv- 
ei ant e into the arms ot ( !hrist. And in the plaza 
might also be reenacted — on In irsebat k and 
with much spec tat le — folk dramas about the 
v ii tones ol colon i/at ion: Los Mums y Los Cris- 
tianos, commemorating Spain's ancient struggles 
with I he Moors, and I. in Comanches anil the 10th- 
t entiirv Los Tejanos i elebrating vit unions c ombat 
against Indians and Texans, more contemporary 
opponents. Through all these enactments, the 
plaza was both historicized .\m\ sanctified, its 
spai e transformed by performance. In these 
events the present e of the church sanctioned the 
i ommunity's continued existence, while in a 
t rowd its members publicly renewed the collec- 
tive faith and menu try. 

Historically, Indian pueblos had one oi more 
pla/as. often indistinguishable from other open 


spaces in the community until the Spanish erect- 
ed mission churches near them. Pueblo plazas 
were associated with kivas. chambers partly or 
entirely underground, where the men prayed 
and prepared themselves to become the masked 
spirits who dance in the plaza. Today some 
pueblo plazas apparently have no defining char- 
acteristics. Others feature a sipapu, a small hole 
in the plaza floor, most of the time so discreetly 
covered by rock that it passes unrecognized by 
the unknowing eye. It indicates that one or more 
kivas are nearby. 

Just as the cruciform plan and vast vertical 
spaces of the Gothic cathedrals are architectural 
metaphors for the Christian mystery ol death 
and resurrection, so also do the kiva and sipapu 
represent a mystery, for the Puebloan peoples 
believe they emerged from the womb of Mother 
Earth into the daylight of the Sun Father. Ori- 
gin, life, power and history emerge on a vertical 
axis linking sun and earth, just as the thirty or so 
masked spirit dancers emerge from the darkness 
of the kiva into the light of the plaza on a ladder 
through the kiva roof. Their emergence conse- 
crates the space they occupy. 

A blending of Pueblo and Hispanic traditions 
occurs at El Santuario de Chimavd. The original 
site was a Tewa Indian shrine: when the Twin 
Gods slew the Great Monster, fire burst from the 
earth and hot springs bubbled up; when they 
receded only mud was left, which had curative 
powers. Later this Native belief in the healing 
powers of the local earth merged with a Hispanic 
belief in cures attributed to Nuestro Sehor de 
Esquipula. The figure appeared to a prominent 
Hispanic landowner, some say out of the ground 
itself, others say as an image of clay, and the man 
was healed. Later the Santo Nino de Atocha 
came to replace Nuestra Senor de Esquipula as 
the patron of the shrine. The chapel of the San- 
tuario was built at the beginning of the 19th cen- 
tury and is adjacent to a room in which pilgrims 
collect the sacred earth. In this belief in the 
restorative powers of the earth, Hispanic and 
Pueblo traditions are powerfully fused 

For both the Catholic and the Pueblo believ- 
er, the plaza is a focal point in a larger sacred 
landscape sustained by rituals, narratives and 
shrines. Sacred places anchor cultural worlds 
and are collectively tended. Attendance at sacred 
events and access to consecrated spaces has 
always required more than simply good inten- 
tions. Participation requires knowledge and 
responsibility, not self-assumed but conferred by 
a community of believers. Respectful visitors 


The Story of the Crypto-Jews 

Si a it ley M. Hordes 

After 500 years of secrecy, groups of Hispanic 
crypto-Jews, or hidden Jews, are now beginning 
to emerge from the shadows in New Mexico and 
other parts of the southwestern United States. 

These crypto-Jews descend from Sephardic 
Jews forced to convert from Judaism to Catholi- 
cism in Spain and Portugal in the 14th and 15th 
centuries. While some sincerely converted, many 
others secretly held on to their ancestral faith. 
To escape persecution by the Holy Office of the 
Inquisition, many of these conversos migrated to 
the Spanish colonies in the 1 6th and 17th cen- 
turies, settling in metropolitan centers such as 
Lima and Mexico City. Once the Inquisition 
established itself in these New World capitals, 
however, it became necessary for the crypto-Jews 
to seek refuge in more remote parts of the Span- 
ish colonial frontier, including New Mexico. 

Sec ict Jews came with the first colonizing 
expeditions to New Mexico of Caspar Castano 
and Juan de Oriate in the- 1390s, as well as with 
the later trading ventures in the 17th and 18th 
centuries. Many of these families passed on their 
Jewish consciousness from generation to genera- 
tion down to the present day; others eventually 
lost their Jewish identity but continued to prac- 
tice vestiges of then ancestral faith without know- 
ing why. 

Stanley M. I Ionics, Ph. I), is a consulting historian engaged 
in a research project, "The Sephardit Legacy in New Mexico: 
A History oj the Crypto-Jews. " 

should be aware of a dismal history of cultural 
depredation. It was only this past year, for exam- 
ple, that the Zuni tribe was able to recover the 
hist of its War God images. These had marked 
sacred space- on Zuni land for centuries until 
they were stolen from their shrines and scattered 
across the globe to serve the wishes of social s< i- 
entists, art collectors and aficionados. The annals 
of such abuse grow longer every time a shrine is 
disturbed or the value of a ceremony is discount- 
ed, or the- right of a community of faith to define 
its own practice is ignored. 


Weaving Time and Tradition 

Different ways of organizing and performing 
a single craft, just like different meanings given 
to the same land, can index a history of cultural 
values. This is certainly true of weaving in New 

\lc\ll «>. 

When the Spanish arrived, the) found the 
Pueblo Indians weaving cotton into mantas 

(shoulder blankets women wore as dresses), 
men's sleeved or sleeveless shins, breechcloths, 
and dance kilts. Cotton thread was spun on a 
spindle made of a long slender rod, with a disc , 
or whorl, at the bottom to serve as a weight and a 
base on which to gather the thread. The rod, 
wrapped with cotton, was twirled between the 
thigh and the hand o( the spinner, and the 
thread wound on the whorl. The thread was then 
dyed with vegetal dyes and woven on a vertical 
loom. Belts were woven on a narrow waist loom. 

The Spanish introduced sheep into New Mex- 
ico and wool soon bet ame the fibre oi choice foi 
weaving. With it came wool carding, indigo (he, 
and croc bet work done with needles instead ol 

Spanish weaving in New Mexico was done on 
large treadle looms capable of producing lengths 
of cloth of up to 275 feet, as one 1638 invoice of 
material made in Santa Fe for sale in Mexico 
indicates (Boyd 1974). Such practice clearly 
rellcc ts a mercantile orientation to cloth produc- 
tion. The vertical loom of the Pueblos simply 
cannot be used to produce on such a scale, and 
Inch. in resistance to adopting the treadle loom, 
at the same time they accepted other aspects of 
Spanish weaving technology, suggests that they 
continued to see weaving as essentially domestic 
production for local use and small scale trade-. It 
is not clear whether the spinning wheel came to 
\ew Mexico with the Spanish. If it did, it was 
soon replaced in Spanish weaving practice by the 
locl-and-disc spindle of the Pueblos, which was 
easih adapted to wool (Boyd 197 1). Whv this 
happened is not c learly known, but it may be a 
result of using young Indians taken .is slaves foi 

I>\ I 7(H). wool weaving was widespread among 
the Rio (.ranch' Pueblos, the western Pueblos ol 
Acoma, Laguna and Zuni, and the Navajo, who 

A woman weaves on the Navajo Reservation ca. 1943. Photo courtesy Harvey Caplin Estate 


Annie L. Pino spins yarn in her home on 
the Ramah Navajo Reservation. Photo by 
Andrew Wiget 

probably learned weaving from 
Pueblo weavers they took as cap- 
tives or from those seeking refuge 
among them after the Pueblo 
Revolt. Navajo weavings had 
become prominent trade items by 
the early 18th century, but Pueblo 
influence on them was limited to 
the technology itself; Navajo 
weavers did not adopt Pueblo 
designs. In the early 19th century 
when hostility between Navajos 
and Spanish colonists increased, 
Navajo children were taken as cap- 
tives or purchased from the Utes. 
As weavers they produced the 
"slave" or "servant" blankets in 
Spanish homes on Indian vertical 
looms. In one scholar's view, "the 
presence of these Navajo weavers 
in Spanish households may help 
to account for the appearance of 
Navajo-style terraced figures and 
for the design distribution on 
some treadle-loom blankets" of 
the period (Kent 1983). Navajo 
design featured a large central fig- 
ure with quarters of that figure 
replicated in the corners, a pat- 
tern that mirrors the Navajo view 
of the cosmos as centered on a principal sacred 
mountain, with another mountain anchoring 
each of the four directions. 

Late in the 19th century, Rambouillet-merino 
sheep were introduced to replace the churro 
sheep used up to that time for wool. At the same 
time, commercial dyes began to replace vegetal 
dyes, and the local intimate knowledge about the 
multiple uses of local plants consequently began 
to decline. The shorter, oilier, curlier merino 
wool meant more time for processing and more 
sheep to produce needed quantities. Sheep 
herds increased through the 1920s, until they 
were dramatically, often violently, reduced 
among Indians and Hispanics alike, by the 
implementation of the Taylor Grazing Act. In 
the past decade Hispanic weavers of Ganados del 
Valle and the Ramah Navajo Weavers Association 
have reintroduced the churros in their commu- 
nities. They also are strengthening fragile but 
viable traditions of vegetable dyeing and are 

cooperating in new strategies to control econom- 
ic and aesthetic values in their weaving practice. 

Unquiet Land, Uncertain Future 

Five hundred years after Columbus, the com- 
plex engagement between Europe and America, 
which his voyage has come to symbolize, contin- 
ues to produce patterns of accommodation and 
resistance. Conflicting uses and meanings for tin- 
same land seem inevitable in New Mexico, where 
more than 70% of the land is managed by the 
state or federal government, and where a signifi- 
cant percentage of local income is derived from 
tourism. Multiple-use policies for public lands, 
driven by the belief that no one should be 
denied access to anything, permit the recreation- 
al development of lava-flows near Grants, whi< h 
are held sacred by the Navajos, Zunis and Aco- 
mas. They allow the consideration of siting an 
asbestos landfill near the sacred mountain where 
the Navajo culture heroine Changing Woman 


Irene Jaramillo and son, Dave Jr., completed the lowrider "Dave's Dream," as a tribute to their husband and father in 
Espanola, New Mexico. Photo by G. Benito Cordova 

emerged into this world. While ranchers and 
environmentalists argue over killing i oyotes and 
the amount of damage cattle do to grasslands, 
Indians displaced from the same land look bai k 
a< loss a fenc e ,u sacred sites dese< rated oul ol 
ignoran< e i h gi eed. 

( lultural traditions are not immutable heir- 
looms passed down from one generation to the 
next. We shape traditions In the < onflii ted 
choii es we make today, weaving a design that 
i m\ nevei l>e wholly foi eseen. 

( itatious and Furthei Readings 

Boyd, Elizabeth. 197 1. Populai Arts of Spanish New Mex- 
ico Santa Fe: Museum of New Mexico Press. 

Espinosa, Aurelio M. 1985. The Folklore of Spain in the 
American Southwest. Norman: University ol < )kla- 
hoina Press. 

Jenkins, Myra Ellen and Alben H. Schroeder. 1974. I 

tin, I History oj New Mexico. Albuquerque: University 
i >1 New Mexii i> l'i ess. 

Kent, Rate Pei k. 1983. Spanish. Navajo or Pueblo?: A 
Guide to the Identification oi Nineteen th-Century 
Southwestern [Textile. Hispanit Arts and Ethnohistory 
in the Southwest, ed. Marta Weigle. Santa Fe: 
Ancieni ( lity Press. 

1'ai suns, [ack and Michael Earney. 1978. Land and Cat- 
tle: Conversations with Joe Pankey, \ New Mexico 
Rancher. Ubuquerque: University o) New Mexico 


Simmons, Marc. 1979. Historj oi Pueblo-Spanish Rela- 
tions to I S'_' 1 . Handbook of the North American Indi- 
ans, vol. 9. Washington, D.< !.: Smithsonian Insiiui- 
tion Press. 

Warren, Nanc) Huntet 1987. Villages of Hispanit New 
Mexico. Santa Fe: School of American Reseat ch. 

Weigle, Marta and Petei White. 1983. The I^ore of New 

\lexico Ubuquerque: Universit) ol New Mexico 

Wiegle, \l.uta. ed. 1983. Hispanit Arts and Ethnohistory 

of the Southwest. Santa Fe: Ancient City Press. 
Williams. |en\ L, ed. 1986. New Mexico Maps, 2d, ed, 

Albuquerque: Universit) of New Mexico Press. 


El gran telar: 

Tejiendo el paisaje cultural 
de Nuevo Mexico 

Translated by Jose Griego 

Los cuentos nos relatan que los Primeros 
Seres descubrieron esta tierra al salira la superfi- 
cie, nacidos del vientre de la Madre Tierra. Los 
espanoles y mas tarde los mexicanos tambien la 
descubrieron, al seguir la corriente a lo largo del 
Rio Bravo, estableciendo un enlaze permanente 
— el Camino Real — entre el norte de Nuevo 
Mexico y Mexico. Despues vinieron otros de 
Texas, California, Oklahoma, determinados a 
transformar la tierra y amansar el rio. Hoy en 
dia, sisruen lleeando de Italia, l.ibano, Iran, 
Checoslovaqnia, India, Polonia, fapon y Alema- 
nia en odiseas familiares. En un espacio de corta 
distancia, el Rio Bravo recuenta esta historia en 
su recorrido cerca de las comunidades antiguas 
como la del pueblo de San Juan v de Embudo, 
de la mieva ciudad atomica, Los Alamos, y de 
Albuquerque, una ciudad de mas de medio mi- 
lh'in de personas. 

Las sociedades utilizan la tierra de varias ma- 
neras, no todas visibles al forastero. Las culturas 
vivientes no descansan. Esta tierra vibrante de 
historia es como un gran telai de espa( i<> v tiem- 
po en el cual un complejo tapiz o tejido sociocul- 
tural ahora llamado Nuevo Mexico continua 
tejiendose. Los primeros poblados que mas tarde 
ban de relacionarse con las redes exlensas de 
inlluencia y comercio mesoainei icanas culmi- 
naron en los grandes centros urbanos del ( lanon 
Chaco y de la Mesa Verde de los pueblo, que 
probablemente eran multilingues y multietnicos. 
Aiin mas tarde Ilegaron los navajo y los apache, 
los yuta y los comanche, anos antes que se 
escuchara la primera palabra europea en estos 
sitios. Coronado inaugui o medio siglo de expe- 
diciones que prepararon la colonization espano- 
la. En 1598 Juan de Oiiate guio 129 soldados y 
sus familias, 10 sacerdotes. 83 < an etas de provi- 
siones y miles de animales a Nuevo Mexico. 

Al ganar su independencia de Espaiia, Mexi- 
co orgullosamente reclamo su mestizaje al Iuchar 

bajo la bandera de la Virgen de Guadalupe. Esta 
imagen de la Virgen Maria se le quedo al pueblo 
mexicano despues de su aparicion al indiojuan 
Diego en 1531. Los mexicanos derrotaron las 
fuerzas espanolas, quienes peleaban bajo la ban- 
dera de Maria la Conquistadora, una imagen 
europea que encabezo las guerras contra indige- 
nas durante el siglo XML La tierra crecio bajo 
una nueva bandera, pero el aislamiento del 
norte de Nuevo Mexico previno que este cambio 
los afectara radicalmente. 

Al que desconoce, Nuevo Mexico le parece 
una tierra extensa y desolada, pero aun las 
regiones mas remotas las reclaman la imagi- 
nation y la economia de mas de un grupo cultu- 
ral, cuyas visiones de la tierra frecuentemente en competencia. En Nuevo Mexico, la tie- 
rra, el agua \ la gente se intercalan de las man- 
eras mas intrincadas v profundas. En ninguna 
parte es esto mas evidente que en los campos 
cultivados que yacen entre la aldea v el espacio 
abierto de los llanos, de las montanas y de los 
desiertos. Donde ha\ agua en Nuevo Mexico, 
tambien hay gente. 

Quinientos anos despues de Colon, el inter- 
cambio complejo entre Europa y America que su 
viaje ha Uegado .i representar, se continua pro- 
duciendo patrones de adaptacion y de resisten- 
cia. Conflictos sobre el entendimiento v el uso 
de la tierra parecen inevitables en Nuevo Mexu o 
donde mas del 70% de la tierra es administrada 
por el gobierno estatal o federal, v donde un 
porcentaje signilii ante de sueldos locales 
provienen del turismo. 

Las tradiciones culturales no son herencias 
imutables pasadas de generacion a generacion. 
Nosotros moldeamos las tradiciones cada vez que 
hacemos una decision, por conflictiva que sea. Y 
asi vamos tejiendo el diseno del tejido cultural 
que no conocemos en su totalidad de antemano. 


The Indo-Hispano Legacy of 

New Mexico 

Enrique R. Lamadrid 

Struggle is as prominent a feature of the 
New Mexican landscape as its mountains and 
deserts. For centuries the successive inhabitants 
of the upper Rio Grande have resisted each 
other's attempts at sot ial subjugation and cultur- 
al conversion. This history has produced one of 
the most culturally diverse regions in North 
Anient a. Such conflicts find direc i expression in 
folk traditions, whose evolution relict Is the 
course ol inter-ethnic relations between Hispan- 
ics, neighboring Pueblo Indians and the 
nomadic Indian groups, who were the Pueblos' 
traditional enemies. 

When Spanish and Mexican Indian colonists 
settled New Mexico in 1598, they encountered 
Keresan and Tanoan agricultural settlements 
and pueblos clustered along the Rio Grande and 
its tributaries. Far to the west lay the remote 
Pueblos ol Zuni and Moqui (Hopi). When the) 
imposed tributes, relations with the Natives 
became tense and uneasy. Eventually, Francis* an 
missionaries did at hieve a measure ol sun ess in 
Christianizing the sedentary Pueblo peoples. 
The Indians added the Holy Family and saints to 
1 1 uii pantheon of kachina deities and gladlv 
at t epted the new plants, animals and technolo- 
gies that the missionaries introduced. But the 
religious zeal and intolerant e of these Francis- 
cans coupled with the rapaciousness of the t iv il 
authorities inevitably led to conflict. A vvell-t oor- 
dinated rebellion drove the Spanish colonists 
and their friends into exile in the El Paso ana. 

After the great Pueblo Revolt of 1680 and 
the Reconquest ol 1692, the colonizing Spanish 
ami the colonized Pueblo Indians were obliged 
to amend their position as adversaries. Sur- 
rounded on all sides by roving, generally hostile 

i It. Lamadrid is u professm in the Department q) 
Modem and Classical I angttages nl the I 'niversity "I New 
Mexico and research associate at the Museum />/ Internation- 
al Folk Art. 

bands of Athapascan (Navajo and Apache) and 
Slioshonean (Lie and Comanche) peoples, the 
Spanish and the Pueblo Indians gradually 
became trusted allies. They lived under this pro- 
tracted siege through the 18th century. The 
alliance of Pueblos and Spanish increased their 
cultural accommodation and mutual tolerance. 
The Pueblos were able to retain main aboriginal 
religious and other cultural practices that were 
obliterated forever in many other areas of New 

Needless to say, the enemy nomads resisted 
altogether the efforts of the twin majesties ol 
Spanish State and Church to bring them into the 
colonial fold. The numerous victims of this ton- 
Hit t — orphans, captives and slaves — became 
known as genizt in n ("janissaries"), an emerging 
class of detribali/ed Indians. As criados ("raised 
ones" or "servants") living in the intimacy of 
Spanish households, they became more thor- 
oughly hispanicized than the Pueblo Indians. As 
they moved into society to populate assigned mil- 
itary buffer zones, these New World Janissaries 
evolved their own unique style of hispanicity and 
made a major contribution to the culture, espe- 
cially the folk Catholicism, ol the region. 

Despite the long New Mexican tradition of 
t ultural autonomy, ethnic boundaries are per- 
meable, and a subtle synthesis of Hispano and 
Native American cultures can be seen and felt .ill 
across the region. Basic foodways and architec- 
tural traditions have long been shared in the 
region. Although local Indians cultivated corn, 
beans and squash, chile was unknown in New 
Mexico until the Spanish and their Tlaxcalan 
Indian allies brought it from Mexico along with 
European domestic animals and crops. Pueblo 
Indians built with local timber, stone and mud, 
but the Spanish introduced the mud brick, or 
adobe, that they had acquired from the Arabs. 
Motifs and techniques of craft traditions were 
also selectively exchanged. In music, the cultural 


exchange can be easily heard. Widespread in the 
19th century, the indita ballads sung and danced 
by Hispanos address the topic of cultural rela- 
tions while they emulate and incorporate Indian 

Spiritual traditions also mingled. At the Indi- 
an pueblos, ancestral dances for the Animal Spir- 
its of winter and the Green Corn of summer are 
dedicated to Christian saints. For Holv Week, 
thousands of pilgrims converge from all direc- 
tions to the Santuario de Chimayo, a chapel built 
directly above an ancient Tewa shrine famous 
even in ancient times for the healing properties 
of its earth. The Native concept of the sanctity of 
the earth is particularly strong in this place. 

In both Indian and Hispano pueblos, alle- 
gorical characters of the Matachines dance reen- 
act the spiritual drama of the Conquest in a play 
of indigenous and European symbols that com- 
bines sacred and burlesque elements. Decked 
out in multi-colored ribbons and shawls, two 
lines of dancers with rattles and hand-held tri- 
dents step, bow and turn to the graceful music of 
violin and guitar or drum and form geometrical 
patterns, including the cross. They are led by 
Monarca, a monarch figure also referred to in 
some communities as Montezuma. La Malinche, a 
little girl dressed in a First Communion dress, 
represents the first Christian convert. She dances 
and mimes with other characters, which include 
a bull and clown/bogev man figures called the 
abuelos, or "grandfathers," who kill and castrate 
the bull at the end of the last movement of the 
dance. The dance may van' in significance and 
details among communities. In Hispano commu- 
nities like Bernalillo, it has a strong sacred char- 
acter and is part of the devotion to San Lorenzo. 
In Indian communities like Taos it is a set ul.u 
celebration with much clowning. 

Hispanic cultural fascination with non- 
Pueblo Indian cultures developed quickly, in 
part because of the more intimate social rela- 
tions they experienced with the nomadic Indian 
captives joined to Spanish households and fami- 
lies as criados (servants). Pueblo Indians might 
be allies and trusted neighbors, but a genizaro 
with Comanche, Navajo, or Apache roots might 
be living under the same roof, taking ( .11 e < if the 
children and singing them Native lullabies. His- 
panos in the village of Alcalde impersonate their 
former foes in Los Comanches, a play performed 
on horseback which celebrates the military 
defeat of the great chief Cuerno Verde (Green 
Horn) in 1779. "Los Comanches" was originally 
performed in the villages west of Albuquerque as 


On Christmas day, 1991, in Picuris Pueblo, a 
young girl in a First Communion dress dances 
the part of La Malinche in Los Matachines, a 
dance-drama that is pet formed in both Pueblo 
and Hispanic communities on important holi- 
days (and is described more fully in the opposite 
column). During the colonial period, this sym- 
bolically powerful public performance was used 
for evangelization, and it seems to draw upon 
both Indian and European dance-dramas for its 
content and form. Its ultimate origins are still 
the subject of scholarly discussion. 

Photo by Philippa Jackson 

part of a nativity play with the same name, in 
which a group of Comanches dances for the 
Holy Child then takes him captive. As part of its 
version of the play, the genizaro community ol 
Ranchos de Taos preserves a large repertory of 
Comanche music and dance from the 18th and 
19th century. This drama of captivity and 
redemption is performed on New Year's day and 
other special occasions. The Comanches celebra- 
tions are truly regional and cross-cultural, since 
they are also performed in the Indian pueblos as 
part of the winter cycle of "enemy dances." 

For several generations of folklorists, it has 


been the custom to separate and distinguish the 
Spanish traditions from those of the Indians ol 
New Mexico. Conflict has indeed preserved cul- 
tural differences, but it has also created varied 
and complex Indo-1 lispanii or mestizo traditions 
w hi< h serve as a fascinating register oi cultut al 
and historical relations. 


An Excerpt Translated by Enrique Lamadrid 

The following excerpt is from Los Comanches 
ili' Castillo, a play in popular vet se om e per- 
formed all over New Mexico hut now onl) in 
Alcalde. Enacted on horsebac k. with frenzied 
harangues, the play is structurally similai to the 
Spanish folk drama. "Moot s and ( Christians" and 
is based on colonial campaigns against the 
Comanches that occurred in 177 I and 1779. In 
this speech. ( aiernc > Verde, "( <\ ecu 1 lorn." the 
( Comanche chiel dec la i es Ins i eadiness lot battle. 

From the sunrise to the sunset. 
From the south to the frigid north, 
It sounds, my shining trumpet. 
It reigns, this steel ol mine. 
I campaign fearless and bold, 
And great is the valor 
That reigns in my breast... 

1 restrain the boldest. 
I devi an the mi ist audai ions. 
In my bravery I admire 
The most arrogant hear. 
The fierce mountain lion 1 
And only the Spaniards 
Restrain m\ valoi . 
But today there will (low 
Blood Irom the vengeful heart. 
Memory reminds me 
( )l a hi ave Spaniard 
Who pioudh and with valor 
And with great, fearless spirit 
Dressed the body in flowei s 
With blood for their colors. 
OI the dead stretching into the distance — 
Men. women and children — 
There is no ci amting, 
Mor numbering ol the < aptives. 

Hcv. noble i apt. ims. 

\ ah a ous Janissaries. 

1 ,el niv edict be proc laimed: 

That I as ( ,enei al w ill he i e.iih 

Let the drum and flute In- sounded! 

To tin- dance, to the forward point ol wai ' 

Francisco Gonzales, Jr. celebrates his genizaro, (Hispani- 
cized Plains Indian) heritage in Comanche dances on 
New Years Day. Photo by Enrique Lamadrid 

hiillni Readings 

Campa, Arthur Leon. 1979. Hispanit Culture in the 
Southwest. Norman: University "I Oklahoma Press. 

. 1942. l-os Comanches: A New Mexican 

Folk Drama. ' 'nwersity i>l New Mexico Bulletin Whole 
\n 376, 1 anguage Series 7(1). 

Champe, Flavia Waters, ins:;. The Matachines Dance oj 
the I 'ppei Rio Grande: History, Minn . ami Choreogra- 
phy. Lincoln: Universit) ol Nebraska Press. 

Gutierrez, Ramon A. 1991 . Wlien Jesus Came, the ('inn 
Mothers Went Away: Marriage, Sexuality, and Powe> in 
Wew Mexico, 1500 1846. Stanford: Stanford Univer- 

sll\ Puss 

Hurt, Wesle) R. 1966. ["he Spanish-American 

Comanche Dance. Journal oj the Folklore Instituted 
(2): 1 16-132. 

Lamadrid, Enrique R. and Jack Loeffler. 1989. Tesoros 
del espiritu Treasures <</ 1 In' Spirit: A Son ml Portrait oj 
Hispanit New Mexico. Santa Fe: Museum ol Interna- 
tional Folk Ai i. 

Lucero While Lea, Aurora. 1953. Literary Folklore "/ the 
Hispanit Southwest. San Antonio: Naylor Company. 

Robb, fohn l> 1961. The Matachines Dance -A Ritual 
Folk Dance. Western Folklore 20: 87-101. 


La Musica de los Viejitos: 

The Hispano Folk Music of the 
Rio Grande del Norte 

Jack Loeffler 

Spanish culture came to northern New Mexi- 
co with a musical heritage whose wellsprings lie 
in European antiquity. Its traditions continued 
to evolve as descendants of the Spanish colonists 
melded into the mestizaje of La Raza. 

The mountains around the Rio Grande del 
Norte still ring with echoes of songs sung in 
Spain hundreds of years ago in narrative ballads 
called romances. This musical form branched off 
as early as the 12th century from the tradition of 
epic poetry and bloomed in the 13th century 
when juglares — wandering acrobats, jugglers, 
poets, dancers and musicians — performed in 
public squares and noblemen's houses. Passed 
down through generations, these ballads gener- 
ally exalted the deeds of warriors, kings and the 
gentiy. They were eagerly listened to by everyone 
including chroniclers and historians, who 
regarded the romances as popular accounts of 
significant events. 

Traditionally, the melodies of the romances 
are 32 notes long. This conforms with poetic 
stanzas comprised of two rhymed or assonated 
lines of 16 syllables. A few of these old romances 
ai e still to be heard in New Mexico and southern 
Colorado. One of the best known is "Delgadina," 
a tragic ballad of incest and death. 

Delagadina se paseaba 
de la sala a la cocina 
Con vestido transparente 
que se cuerpo le ilumina. 

Romances can also be extremely humorous as is 
the case of Don Goto, "Mr. Cat," who was chasing 
a beautiful Moorish pussycat when he leapt and 
fell, mortally injuring himself much to the 

fack Loeffler is a writer, oral historian ami radio producer 
whose area of interest nullities the American Southwest and 
Mexico. He recently completed a book entitled La Musica de 
los Viejitos to be published by the University oj New Mexico 
Press in 1993. 

delight of local mice. A form related to the 
romance is the relation, a humorous narrative 
ballad still popular. One of the best relaciones is 
entitled /•,'/ C.uriito Paseniln. which was written in 
the 1920s and tells the tale of an old, broken- 
down jalopy. 

Tengo un carrito paseado 

Que el que no lo ha experimentado 

No lo puedo hacer andar 

Tiene roto el radiador 
Descompuesto el generador 
Se le quebro la transmision. 

A form ol narrative ballad that has evolved 
from the romance is the corrido. Vicente Men- 
doza, the late, eminent Mexican ethnomusicolo- 
gist stated, "The Mexican corrido, a completely 
popular form. an expression of the sensibility 
of our people, and its direct ancestor, both liter- 
ary and musical, is the Spanish romance." Where 
the romance mostly treats the exploits of the 
gently, the corrido describes events, often tragic 
and violent, in the lives of common people. This 
form achieved great status in the New World dur- 
ing the last century, when Spanish-speaking peo- 
ple struggled for collective survival in a social 
environment far distant from the Iberian penin- 
sula. When the corrido came into currency, the 
international boundary between Mexico and the 
United States was drawn further north, and pre- 
sent-day New Mexico lay south of that boundary. 
Music, like the wind which carries it, is stirred by 
a myriad of forces. 

Corridos usually include the date and time 
of the event described and often the name of the 
composer. Sometimes they end in a despedida oi 
concluding refrain with the words "Vuela, vuela, 
palomita... ""Fly, fly, little clove..." The corrido is 
generally composed in stanzas, comprised of 
four lines of eight syllables each. 

During the many decades of conflict that 
culminated in the Mexican Revolution, the corri- 


Pedro Casias teaches the dance music of the Northern Rio Grande Valley to his grandson, William Pacheco. Photo by Jack 

do bri ame something of a journalistic device 
whereby the people learned of recent events and 
popular opinions about them. It has been said 
that the history of Mexico from 1845 ma\ be 
traced horn the texts of corridos. Recently in 
northern New Mexico, corridos have been writ- 
ten about a soldier in Vietnam, the courthouse 
raid in Tierra Amarilla in the late 1960s, and the 
great prison riot neat Santa Fe in the earl) 1980s. 
The author of some of these is Roberto 
Mai tnuv, one of New Mexico's most celebrated 
folk musicians, who performs with Los Reyes de 

Another form of narrative ballad, <>l gnat 
importance in the past but now raich heard, is 
the indita, a form that combines Hispanic and 
Indian elements. While the indita is thought to 
have originated in Mexico, it tame into promi- 
nence in New Mexico in the 19th century, when 
Hispanic and Indian cultures contended for ter- 
titon in the hinterland beyond pueblo and vil- 
lage. Some of the inditas told sad stories of I lis- 
panos captured by the Indians, wrenched from 
then families never to be returned. 

I he rancion is vet another musical form that 

is still populai among lagenteoi the Rio Grande 
del Norte. The cancion is not restricted to a par- 
ticular meter, a freedom not available in the 
forms mentioned earlier. A< < ording to Arthur 
( iampa, "The subjei tive quality of the cancion 
reveals more readily the fine nuances of folk sen- 
sibility in outpourings oi the lovelorn, in candid 
denunciations ol unrequited lovers, in sincere 
expressions ol undying affection, and in melan- 
choly mm mm ings ol the introvert." Almost any 
theme can become the subjec t of a cancion. One 
of the most popular ol the cam iones is entitled 
"Don Simon" and is an elder's lament on the 
conduit of the youngei generation. Even though 
this song appeared in print as early as 1888, it is 
still sung today — several younger generations 

Many oi the vocal forms that were still popu- 
lar at the beginning <>l World War II are now 
moribund. There was the decima: traceable to 
1 5th i entury Spain, the form ordinarily has 
introductory planta of lour o< tosyllabic lines fol- 
lowed by four stanzas oi ten octosyllabic lines — 
hence the word decima. Aurelio Espinosa once 
regarded the decima "as one of the outstanding 


examples of the persistence of Spanish tradition 
in New Mexico." The trovo is a poetic contest in 
which two or more poets sing alternate verses. In 
this dialogue a wide range of themes may be 
addressed, from philosophical to insulting. 
Ruben Cobos regards the trovo as a poetic joust. 
Few recall these latter musical forms, but Cipri- 
ano Vigil — one of New Mexico's great folk 
musicians and one of the greatest tradition keep- 
ers of his time — includes fine examples of each 
of these forgotten forms in his enormous reper- 

The brothers of the Hermandad de Nuestro 
Padre Jesus Nazareno, popularly known as the Pen- 
itentes, are ereatly misunderstood bv those who 
live outside their religious practice. It was the 
hermanos who helped sustain the Christian tradi- 
tion in the Hispanic villages of northern New 
Mexico and southern Colorado through their 
long period of isolation from trained clerics. The 
hermanos perform functions vital to the well- 
being of their respective communities through- 
out the year, although they are most commonly 
associated with the rites they observe every Lent. 
The hermanos conduct funerals, aid those in 
need, minister to the distressed and in general 
assume responsibility for the good of the commu- 
nity. They maintain a web of mutual aid that 
helps the community endure. 

The alabados is a musical form sung by the 
hermanos and some lay people. The alabados 
are sung to a very slow, mournful tempo, and the 
modal structure of their melody lines suggest .1 
medieval influence. The only musical instrument 
played while singing the alabados is the pito, a 
wind instrument similar to the soprano recorder. 

Two musical instruments have come to pre- 
vail at the bailes, or dances, in the villages of 
northern New Mexico and southern Colorado — 
the violin and the guitar. At the time of the 
Spanish Conquest, neither the violin nor the gui- 
tar had assumed its current form. The modern 
violin came into currency in Europe in the open- 
ing years of the Baroque era, which spanned the 
period from 1600 to 1750. The modern guitar 
took shape nearly two centuries later. However, 
the conquistador^ and early colonists were 
accustomed to viols and vihuelas and to tradi- 
tions of dance that extended deep into Euro- 
pean antiquity. 

Dance music of the Renaissance has long 
since disappeared from the collective memory of 
la gente of northern New Mexico. However, one 
active and rich dance tradition extends back at 
least to the beginning of the 19th century. La 

Varsoviana, one of the most popular dances in 
the Rio Grande del Norte region, evoked from 
the mazurka, which originated in the plains of 
Mazowsze, the area where Warsaw is located. It 
was apparently introduced in the salons of Paris 
by the dance master. Desire, in 1853 and is pur- 
ported to have gained great favor with the 
Empress Eugenie, wife of Napoleon III. It is 
known among English-speaking people as "Put 
Your Little Fool." 

Napoleon's agent. Archduke Maximilian, 
briefly presided as Emperor of Mexico from 
1863 to 1867 when Mexico was under French 
domination. The Archduke's wife was caught 
within the sway of the Empress Eugenie and was 
anxious to enliven the salons of Mexico City with 
the latest Parisian fashion, so she imported 
dances and melodies with a swift grace. Many of 
these dances found their way northward to 
become part of the evolving tradition of the His- 
panic Rio Grande del Norte. 

The waltz, which originated as an erotic 
spring dance in the Bavarian Alps, lent itself to 
several graceful dance forms in New Mexico 
including the redondo and the valse de las panos. 
Both of these are danced not in couples, but in 
small groups. The chotiz is a two-step derived 
from the schottishe, itself thought to be a Ger- 
man trasmogrification ol a Scottish folk dance. 
The polka entered New Mexico from both the 
south and the e.isi during the presidency of 
James Knox Polk, and polka jokes are said to 
have run rampant. La Camila came straight from 
Paris, and las cuadrillas are directly descended 
from the French quadrille, a form of square 
dance. El talean is also a form of square dance, 
but its name suggests Italian provenance. 

Some dances actually originated in New 
Mexico. El vaquero implies the presence of the 
cowboy whose history long precedes that of his 
Anglo counterpart. Some say that la cuna, the 
cradle dance, originated in New Mexico, as did 
la indita. 

One of the most interesting dance traditions 
in the New World is Los Mutachines, a dance 
drama which I believe combines characteristics 
of both European and Indian origins. It is 
danced both in Indian and Hispanic villages to 
music performed on the violin and guitar. 

Musical forms appear and become aligned 
with a prevailing culture and then wane with the 
passage of their season. This loss does not neces- 
sarily impoverish a tradition that continues to 
evolve, as does the musical heritage of Hispanic 
America. The advent of electronic instruments 


and modern media may well hasten the pa< e oi 
change, but the tradition continues to build 
upon itself, chronicling the spirit oi its time in 
new ballads, accommodating the frenzy oi the 
late 20th century with different fiances, and even 
challenging the political system and its bureau- 
cracy in a recently created musical form known 
as nueva cancion. 

The musical heritage of the Hispanic Rio 
Grande del Norte has as distinguished an am es- 
try as the culture lias oi which it is part. This 
music is an expression of a people from whose 
soul pours forth song with passion and 
poignance — it is the music oi la gente. 

Iinlhri Readings 

Cutter, Charles R. 1986. The WPA Federal Musk Pro- 
ject in New Mexico. New Mexico Historical Review 

Griego ) Maestas, |ose, and Rudolfo A. Anaya. 1980. 
Cuentos: Tales from the Hispanit Southwest. Santa Fe: 
Museum ol Nev\ Mexico Press. 

Lamadrid, Enrique R. 1986. ( iipi iano Vigil \ la Nueva 
Cancion nuevomexicana. Latin American Musi< 
Review7( 1 1:1 19-222. 

Loeffler, fack.1983. La Miisica de los viejitos. New 
\h Kico Magazine. 

Mendoza, Vicente T., and Virginia R.R. de Mendoza, 
1986 / si a 1 1 n i v i In si I n in urn de In mxisica tradicional 
hispdnica de Nuevo Mexico. Mexico: Universidad 
Vu ional Autonoma de Mexii o. 

Rohh, |olm I) 1954, Hispanit Folk Songs oj Veiv Mexico 
Albuquerque: Universit) oi New Mexico Press. 

. 1980. HispanicFolk Music oj New Mexico 

and the Southwest: A Selj Portrait n/ n People. Norman: 
Univei sity <>l ( )klahoma Press. 

Stark, Richard P.. 1969. Music of the Spanish Folk Plays in 
New Mexico. Santa Fe: Museum of New Mexico 

[Yevino, Adrian. 1986. Traditional Sayings andExpres 
sums a/ ll/s/iiinii Folk Musicians in the Southwestern 
I nited States and Northeastern Mexico. Vols. I. II, III. 
Albuquerque: I rellis Publishing ( lompany. 

Weigle, Marta. 1976. Brothers of Light, Brothers of Blood: 
tin- Penitentes oj the Southwest. Santa Fe: Am ient ( u\ 

Suggested Listening 

Martinez, Roberto I us Reyes de \lbuquerque. Hurricane 
Re< ..ids HS-10002. 

Ortiz, Cleofes. Violinista de Nuevo Mexico. Ubik Sound, 
1986 (< assette). 

Robb, [< 1 1 1 1 1 I). Spanish and Mexican Folk Musii of New 
Mexico Folkways FA 2204. 

Vigil, Cipriano. Cipriano con In Nueva Cancion 

Nuevomexicana. < lompania de Produi c iones Musi- 

c.llrs. 1985. 

Suggested \ iru'itif> 

"Los alegres," 1977. 30 minute documentary. Produc- 
ers |.K k Loefflei and Karl Kernbei <_;ei . 

"La music ,i de I"-, viejos." 30 minute doc umentary, 

Pre id uc cis |.u k Loeffler and Jack Pai sons. 


Religion in Community 

Jose Griego 

Religion in the traditional cultures of New 
Mexico has played an important nurturing role, 
as people struggled to survive in a very harsh 
land over the course of many centuries. New 
Mexican communities celebrate together on reli- 
gious feast days with intricate rituals from age- 
old traditions. Traditional dance, folk drama and 
music are common modes of religious expres- 
sion that embrace celebrants and valorize spaces. 

Some Pueblo dances such as the Rain Dance 
of the Keres and the Hopi Snake Dance have 
become closed to outsiders, due to their sacred- 
ness. But others are shared with whoever congre- 
gates at the Pueblo plaza on designated feast 
days, which sometimes coincide with Catholic 
holidays. Pueblo communities combine Christian 
and Native religious practices and perform social 
dances such as the Deer Dance, Buffalo Dance, 
Hen Dance and many others in particular cycles 
or at certain seasons of the year. 

hike many of the Pueblo dances, the Mat- 
achines dances, which are shared bv both Pueblo 
and Hispanic villages, are performed publically 
and are considered social in nature although 
they have religious themes. The mestizo (Indo- 
Hispanic) prayer dance, San Luis Conzaga, 
which contains verses in the medieval romance 
form, is evidence of a shared culture created by 
centuries of co-existence. The Kith century play, 
Las apariciones de Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe 
(The Apparitions of Our Lady of Guadalupe), is 
handed down in certain families and communi- 

fose Griego is co-curator of the New Mxim program at the 
Festival of America)) Folklife. He is the author, with Rudolfo 
A. Anaya, of Cuentos, Tales from tin- Hispanic South- 

ties. The Indian Virgin has special spiritual sig- 
nificance for both Indian and Hispanic cultures. 

For some Hispanics, the Christmas season is 
not complete without attending the humorous 
yet didactic folk drama, Los Pastores (The Shep- 
herds), of medieval Spanish origin. The impres- 
sion of this play is so strong that its idioms air 
repeated throughout the year. Franciscan priests 
used the didactic themes in its dramatic dia- 
logue, dance and music to teach their message to 
Native American and Hispanic communities. In 
the village of Santa Cruz, the medieval drama 
that reenacts the re-conquest of Spain from the 
Moors, Los moros y cristianos, is performed on 
horseback annually for the feast day of the Holy 
Cross. The Penitente brotherhood, a lay organi- 
zation that kept the faith alive for decades in 
main rural communities where a priest only visit- 
ed once a year, uses the public dramatization of 
the passion of Nuestro Padre Jesus (Our Father 
Jesus) and the performance of hundreds of 
medieval alabados (hymns), to maintain the faith. 

Religious pilgrims of several faiths in New 
Mexico converge on sacred places such as the 
Taos Blue Lake, the Santuario de Chimayo, the 
four sacred peaks of the Navajo and Chaco 
Canyon. The unique ambience created by isolat- 
ed high desert, snow-capped mountains, ancient 
Anasazi ruins and the variety of religious tradi- 
tions in New Mexico has drawn new religious 
communities to the state, such as Sikhs, Tibetan 
Buddhists and Muslims. A newly formed monas- 
tic community of Benedictine monks pray and 
contemplate at the Christ in the Desert 
Monastery in northern New Mexico, following 
the ancient tradition of monks who flee to the 
desert to pray and contemplate the Spirit of 



Two lines of dancers holding rattles and 
tridents form geometrical patterns in a 
Los Matachines performance. Photo by 
Philippa Jackson 

An outdoor mass is held at Chimayo on 
Mother's Day, 1990. Women make an 
annual pilgrimage to the Sanctuary to 
pray to the Virgin of Guadalupe. 
Photo by G. Benito Cordova 


La Vida Buena y Sana: 
Curanderas y Curanderos 

Tomds Atencio 

The practice of folk medicine by Indian and 
Hispanic herbalists, medicine men and curan- 
deros is guided by knowledge and religions beliefs 
exchanged among practitioners over the course 
of several centuries. Indians shared their knowl- 
edge of native plants such as coyaye, oshd, amole. 
Hispanics also brought medicinal herbs to the 
Americas which they shared with their Indian 
neighbors. Hispanic curanderos refer to herbs 
with healing properties .is remedios santos, holy 

Over the centuries, segments of the Indian 
and Spanish communities merged to create 
Indo-Hispanic or mestizo culture. La vida buena v 
sana (the good and healthy life) is a concept 
shared within the Indo-Hispanic community as a 

Well-being, health and wholeness are the 
pathways to plenitude — the body in harmony 
with its environment, with itself and with others, 
and with God and His creation. Health is harmo- 
ny and balance: balance of hot and cold, of joy 
and sorrow, of giving and receiving. Health is the 
act of penitence and the acceptance of grace; it 
is taking from nature to support life replenishing 
nature's bounty. That is the ideal in the tradi- 
tional Indo-Hispanic community. 

In everyday life, an imbalance of hot and 
cold may lead to the common cold; interrup- 
tions in the conversations between our heart and 
mind may bring pain to the soul; and violations 
of the word of honor among men and women 

may breed envy, jealousy and hatred. The fori es 
of evil that invade life are the denial of our own 
transgressions and the rejection of God's grace. 
A once bountiful nature that no longer yields as 
it did reflects human's disrespect towards the 
fountain of our survival. This is the real world of 
the Indo-Hispano. 

Some people are born with the gift to know 
the roots of disharmony and with the power and 
the efficacy to restore the balance, that is, to 
cure. This gift is virtu. A person with the gift of 
virtu apprentices with a master and vows not to 
exploit what is within his or her vision and realm 
of knowing. The person dedicates his or her gift 
to the sendee of others, and in this way becomes 
a healer — a curandera or curandero. The 
curanderos' medicines, remedios. include native 
herbs tint are boiled into teas and drunk, or 
ground into powders and then turned into 
pastes or penetrating ointments and rubbed on 
the boch with gentle massage. Remedios also 
may be rituals with burning candles and santos, 
prayers, litanies and dance, and many other 
kinds of prescriptions as well. 

Curanderos and curanderas are born from 
communities of faith and serve communities of 
believers that seek fulfillment through La Vida 
Buena y Sana. It is no surprise that curanderos 
and curanderas benefit those who believe. 

Tomds Atencio, Ph.D.. from Dixon, New Mexico, is n profes- 
sor of Sociology ni l hr I 'niversity oj New Mexico. 



Alberto D. Pan a 

( )ur world is in the midst of .1 housing 1 risis. 
( lities abound with the pooi whose need for shel- 
ici grows. In Ameri< a, where home ownership is 
the heart of the American Dream, fewei and 
fewer can afford it because oi the < ost oi land, 
labor, materials and financing. Governments and 
individuals fail to sec the eai 1I1 under their feet 
as cheap, common building material. New Mexi- 
co and the American Southwest could very well 
have found the solution in adobe. 

Adobe is one of mankind's earliest building 
materials. The word ilsell has roots in an Egypt- 
ian hieroglyph denoting brick. An etymological 
chain of events ultimately produ< ed the Arabic 
at-tobor al-tob ("sun-dried l>ri< k"). which then 

Alberto D. Parra is a licensed adobe contracto) in 

spread to Spain in the form <>t the verb adobar, 
"to daub 01 t<> plaster." The Spanish Conquest 
brought the word adobe to the New World 
where it still exists today. 

Generally, am building that employs soil 01 
mud as a primary material can be considei ed 
adobe. It is ( ertain that when mankind became 
non-migratory, these earl) civilizations built their 
first permanent stru( lures with adobe. 

Remains oi adobe structures have been dis- 
covered in Mesopotamia dating as far ba< k .is 
7000 B.C. Hand- ,\\)A form-molded bricks have 
been found in the ruins of structures such as the 
Walls of [ericho, Egyptian pyramids, sections of 
China's (.real Wall, the Alhambra Mosque, the 
Mosques of Fez a\\>\ Marrakesh and the Saudi 
Royal Palace .11 Riyadh. The earliest use of adobe 
in the Westei 11 1 [emisphere is 3000 B.( '.. in the 

Like many churches in New Mexico towns and villages, the Sagrada Familia Church in Pajarito at Black 
Mesa, Santa Fe County, has been restored by community and volunteer effort. Photo by Jim Gautier 



Carmen Romero Velarde 
began working with adobe at 
the age of ten. This fireplace 
is in the kitchen of her Ran- 
chos de Taos home. Photo by 
Pete Reiniger 

Alberto Parra used 18,000 adobe 
bricks in the construction of this 
contemporary home in Albu- 
querque. Photo by Robert Reck 

Chicama Valley in Peru. 

I came to the tradition of adobe construc- 
tion in the early lQbOs, in Albuquerque, where I 
was reared by my great-grandmother. One day 
when I was eight or nine years old I met Don 
Caspar Garcia who was making adobe bricks 
near our home in Old Town. He looked up at 
me and said, "Well are you just gonna stand 
there and look at me or are you going to come 
and help?" With my great-grandmother's per- 
mission I began working for Don Gaspai . 

By the time I was 21 years old, he had taught 
me all he knew of the art of making adobe 
homes and encouraged me to apply for my con- 
tractor's license. Since then I have been working 
full-time as a builder and designer of adobe 
homes. I have learned from working with Indi- 
ans from Jemez, Acoma and Laguna. I've also 
been influenced by Don Caspar, Fr. Benedicto 
Cuesta (former curator of the Museum of New 
Mexico), and architect John Caw Meem, among 
others. I design homes according to traditional 
dimensions and build fireplaces that heat the 
home. I enjoy looking at houses in disrepair and 
imagining how I could build a new home like it. 

Just about anyone can build an adobe house. 
Requirements are few. Most important are 
patience and desire. While the skeleton of most 
wood frame homes can be built in two days, a 
typical adobe home with the same square 
footage can take two to four weeks. The time. 

and the physical effort of working with the earth 
have a lasting therapeutic value. Adobe building 
gets us back to the land. It is of great benefit in 
our present society to have somewhere or some- 
place to be nurtured. The massive qualities of an 
adobe home make it a place of refuge and a 
place to be refreshed. It is where the soul is 

Bee ause it is of the earth, in the true adobe 
there is no sharpness, no edges, no harsh angles. 
It flows and imitates the land that surrounds it. 
And because of its origin, when the adobe's jour- 
ney is finished, it quietly descends back to its 
source, .is often seen throughout New Mexico. 

In today's Earth First consciousness, adobe is 
and should be the first alternative for basic shel- 
ter, a very basic need that eludes many. New 
Mexico's traditions and heritage could easilv be 
at the forefront of a cause as important as this. 

The outstanding quality of the architecture 
of New Mexico is its elegant simplicity; or as 
some say, "It's simply elegant!" The earth (nues- 
tra tierra) makes the walls so that the house of the 
JMibrr (poor) and the house of the wealthy are not 
so very different after all. It is probably the only 
place in this world where that happens. 



Patricia D' Andre a 

On August 1 1, 1598, the first 
Spanish-inspired irrigation ditch, or 
acequia, was dug near present-day 
San Juan Pueblo in northern New 
Mexico. The workers were 1,500 
Pueblo people, and the overseers 
were the Spanish conquistadores in 
Don [uan de ( )nate's expedition. 
Basing their design on Pueblo pra< - 
dees and th< >se of their own agricul- 
tural tradition, the Spanish settlers 
built acequia systems in every new 
settlement. P>\ the late 1800s there 
were hundreds ol acequias in the 

In most communities, irrigation 
was so important that the system was 
begun even before the houses, pub- 
lic buildings and chur< lies wei e fin- 
ished. People usually lived clustered 
together in (owns surrounded by culti- 
vated fields and pasture land. Most families 
depended upon theii small, irrigated tracts of 
land to supply them with almost all of life's 

Physically, the a( equia system in< hides a 
divei sion dam with a moveable headgate for 
releasing or stopping the water, a main ditch 
channel (usually called the acequia matin; or 
"Mother ditch"), lateral ditches leading from the 
main t liannel to irrigate individual parcels of 
land, and a wasteway (liannel to return surplus 
watei from the swem ba< k to the stream. Ace- 
quias are usually dirt ditches, and the diversion 
dams ma\ lie built ol almost anything, from 
brush to native rock to plywood covered with old 
( ai pet. 

So( iall\ . an a< equia association is composed 
i >l ownci s (parciantes) ol the lands irrigated by a 
single main ditch (liannel. Owners pa) dues to 
ilt< assm i.iiion, and ever) spring the) ate respon 
sible lor (leaning the ditches and restoring the 




r '** 

■ ... 


-' '-:<' 

Acequias (irrigation ditches) were often dug before houses and other buildings 
were completed. Today, the acequia is a recognized political subdivision of the 
State. Photo courtesy Harvey Caplin Estate 

channels. You know it's spring in New Mexii o 
when you see the workers ( leaning ditches. Ea< h 
association has three commissioners and a major- 
domo, all elei ted b) the membership. Their 
responsibilities are to make sine that each par- 
i tante receives his or her proper amount ol 
watei at the proper time. 

There are at least 1 ,00(1 acequia associadons 
in New Mexico today, most of them in north cen- 
tral New Mexico. The farms served by these ace- 
quias range from less than one acre to over 300 
acres, with the majority less than 20 acres. Ac e- 
quias that bring watei to small dry fields are still 
( iften ( ompared to the veins and arteries that 
bring blood to all parts of the human body, so 
essential are they to the continued existent e of a 
\cr\ important part of New Mexico. 

I 'hi i a h i D Andrea lives in Santa Fe and is completing u five- 
yeai writing projei I. an exploration nj the Urn Grande enti- 
tled Rio Grande Rio Bravo: A Tale of Two Ri\ci s. 


Mining Folklore 

Patricia Music 

In the New Mexican Hispanic tradition, 
duendesare ghosts of children who can inhabit 
mines. They play mischievous pranks, sometimes 
tossing pebbles around. Generally they're 
thought to be good luck, and a mine with a 
duende is blessed. 

Tommyknockers, brought to New Mexico by 
the Cornish miners, signal danger by knocking 
on the walls. A miner who hears a tomnn knock- 
er will immediately look around to see if he's 
been careless or a dangerous situation has devel- 

Occasionally, miners are warned by the 
ghost of Bonnie Coone, who died dining the 
Alaska gold rush. He and his partner had found 
a paying claim, but his greedy comrade killed 
him by causing a cave-in. When a miner sees 
Bonnie Coone, he must immediately search for 

the reason the spirit came to warn. But if he's 
smiling or whistling, no danger exists. He's just 

I'i iests regularly came to bless the mines, 
and shrines were often constructed under- 
ground. Hispanic Catholic mining families in 
southwestern New Mexico celebrated Holy Cross 
Day, May 3rd. Miners didn't work on this day. 
They walked in procession through the mine, 
earning a handmade cross and lighting off gun- 
powder along the way. At the bottom of the 
mine, they lit candles and prayed for safety. 
Then they brought the cross back out of the 
mine, and women joined in a procession to the 
home where the cross would be installed. A fiesta 

Mining is a very hazardous occupation, so it 
is not surprising that miners occasionally receive 
a little help from supernatural sources. 

Patricia Music, who has on 
M.A. in American Studies, lives 
in Silver City, New Mexico, and 
began work on mining folklore 
several years ago when she mar- 
ried a working miner. 

Richard Manning separates 
larger rocks on a grizzley 
(sorter), at the Challenge 
mill and smelter near Mogol- 
lon, New Mexico. Photo by 
Patricia Music 


The Folklore of the Oil Industry 

Jim Harris 

A cycle of stories told in the southeastei n 
New Mexico oilfields since the 1960s features two 
hippies .is it> t entral t haracters. In one storv, 
one hippie tills the other that he is going to 
work in the oilpatch because he heard the) have 
a pushei on every rig and fifty-foot joints. For 
folks not familiar with the industry, a tool pusher 
is the foreman on a drilling rig, and .is the 
drilled In lie gels deeper, sections ol pipe i ailed 
'joints" are put together to keep the drill hit on 
the bottom. 

like other occupations, oil industry workers 
have their own verbal art, customs and practices 
that are unique to it, and the hippie joke illus- 
trates jnsl one aspec I ol a ri( h and vai ied tradi- 
tion. ( )ccupational jokes, anecdotes and tales cir- 
culate among roughnecks and engineers about 
famous and foolish workers, heroic and ti i< kv 
deeds, and spectacular accidents. For instance, 
Houston oilfield firefighter Red Adair appears in 
stories as a hei oic figure, while fictional comii 
versions of him populate the industry's jokelore. 

Some themes ol the jokelore travel widely 
among ethnic and oc( upational groups. I< >r 
instance, the roughneck — the lowest paid hand 
( m an c >ll rig, known by many derisive names — 
is portrayed as the dunce of the oilfields, similar 
to the wa\ Irishmen. Poles or Aggies are por- 

\nu Harris inn lies a l New Mexico funioi College in Hobbs, 

New M \n o. 

trayed in other cycles of stories. Whether the sto- 
ries travel widely or are unique to the industry, 
main are humorous and bawdy. 

Oilworkers also have their own body ol 
superstitions and customs. It is bad luck, for 
instance, to speak, even indirei tlv , about a 
"blowout," or explosion in a well, for fear that 
speaking about such a ( atastrophe will cause it to 
happen. The "pushers," or Ion- men on the rigs, 
wear cowboy clothes, as much because of the 
image ol the cowboy as bei ause it is the local cos- 
tume in west Texas. "Roughnecks" or "weevils," 
who do the real dirt) work, go to the rigs even 
dav in outfits the) call "greasers." No one ever 
wears leathei gloves, despite the physical wear on 
the hands; instead ( loth gloves are used so that 
the) can be ripped off quickly il the) are ever 
caught in the mat hinery. There are, ol course, 
enormi uis liiiani ial rewards for working in such 
dangerous i onditions, and by custom these are 
sometimes i elebrated by having a barbec ue just 
before bringing in a well that promises to be very 

In these depressed 1990s not main people 
travel to the oilfields to find work, as the hippie 
does in the joke. Hut whoever tomes to the oil- 
patch finds a group ol friendly people bound 
togethei not only by common financial concerns 
lor a volatile oil and gas business, but also by a 
shared body of traditions that helps the besieged 
industry stav together. 


UFOs and Nuclear Folklore 

Peter White 

On March 26, 1880, at Galisteo Junction, 
near Santa Fe, a railroad engineer and two 
friends reportedly encountered a hot-air balloon 
shaped like a fish and occupied by people speak- 
ing a foreign language who dropped fine, silk- 
like paper inscribed with Japanese characters. 
This early UFO account reflects local anxiety 
over the technological and social changes intro- 
duced by the railroads. Similarly, modern UFO 
accounts from the 1940s to the present reflect a 
suspicion of government research activity and of 
everything related to nuclear technology. Con- 
temporary tales of cattle mutilations and alien 
abductions further illustrate how some New Mex- 
icans feel threatened by the scientific research 
conducted almost literally in their own back- 

The Nuclear Age began in New Mexico, 
where established Native societies maintain spiri- 
tual and ritual-oriented cultures. This collision 
between older and super-modern worlds gives 
rise to post war and contemporary folklore and 
popular culture. In local and national lore and 
especially in Hollywood films, Native American 
sheepherders or anachronistic cowpokes discov- 
er alien spacecraft hovering in the clear night 
skies of the desert Southwest or crash-landed in 
the draws and arroyos somewhere near White 
Sands Missile Range. Sometimes nuclear lore 
appropriates Native American images: in the 
earlv science fiction films, mutant ant or spider- 
like creatures emerged from the desert, just as 

Petri While i\ iiworiale jiro/rssm o/ English nl the I 'niversit) 
of New Mexico. He is the author, with Marin Weigh, o/The 
Lore of New Mexico. 

people once arose from underworlds through 
sipapu, the sacred plan- oi emergence often pic- 
tured in Navajo sandpaintings. 

Tales and legends about space travel 
abound. Some residents of Roswell, home of 
main famous UFO encounters, tell of four-foot- 
tall aliens captured in the late 1940s and secretly 
transported to Los Alamos where they were kept 
alive and studied for several years. Other New 
Mexicans maintain that there are nine under- 
ground levels below Los Alamos, housing various 
military and political "cabinets" headed by such 
powerful but elusive figures as Henry Kissinger. 

Local narratives indicate suspicions of high- 
tech research. Ranchers in northern Neyv Mexi- 
co repeatedly report seeing military helicopters 
hovering over their rangeland pastures just 
before they discover their cattle have been 
strangely mutilated and drained of all their 
blood. Some tell of seeing laser weapons 
employed in these midnight raids. 

Nuclear folklore sometimes displays an iron- 
ic humor. Some say Trinity Test Site got its name 
when Col. Lex Stevens noted that Jumbo, the 
new atom bomb, sat at Pope's Railway Siding, 
and the "Pope has special access to the Trinity." 
But others say the name derives from three atom 
bombs — an "unholy trinity" — that were under 
construction at the time. 

This modern lore grows out of the stark jux- 
taposition of some of the oldest and most tradi- 
tional forms of American life with some of the 
newest and least familiar. That common themes 
are used to understand this encounter indicates 
the vitality of local cultures, even as they are 


Preserving Traditional 
Culture in New Mexico 

Claude Stephenson 

Preserving < ulture. A paradoxical < oncept to 
be sure; it seems to imply that something as lively 
and fermentive as culture can be suspended, like 
the proverbial "bug in amber" tor future genera- 
tions to gaze upon in some glass-en( ased muse- 
um displa\ . \s Folk Arts ( Coordinator lot the 
State ol New Mexii o, 1 prefei to think ol m\ role 
as pi i initiator of cultural traditions. And 
indeed. New Mexico's rich cultural heritage 
makes m\ job quite pleasurable and easier than 

This bright, arid land has been home to 
many c ultures. The harsh, unforgiving climate 
and the stark yet colorful beauty ol the landsc ape 
seem to bring out the spiritual and artistic in all 
who have chosen to settle here. From pre-his- 
tot H Vnasazi pottery to toda\ 's i omputer-gener- 
ated imagery, New Mexico has always been tic h 
in art. art is part and parcel ol a living 
c ulture. It c annol be separated from its c ulture 
and retain its vitality and sense. Without the 
social and economic conditions that allowed a 
panic ular artistic form to develop and flout ish, it 
i anno! survive. Thus, preserving culture in New 
Mexico requires more than just photographing 
and recording what exists at this moment 01 
.u quiring at nla< is for museum display. It 
requires perpetuating the conditions that allow 
traditional c ulture to flourish. 

For example, to preserve weaving traditions 
in western and northern New Mexii o. the Arts 
Division has assisted local cooperatives that share 
i csoui c es and consolidate marketing ol ai tisans' 
works. I administei apprenticeship programs 
that support artistic masters in passing on iheii 
traditions to dedicated apprentices within their 
community. I he Museum of International Folk 
Art has long encouraged folk art through acqui- 

Claude Stephenson is the Folk Arts Coordinatoi for the State 
oj \',r Mexico, 

sitions that support grass-roots artists, through 
sponsorship ol research projects such as the New 
Mexico quilt survey, and through an active series 
of public education programs, which inc hide- 
workshops, demonstrations and performances In 
traditional artists. This museum is also the repos- 
itory for all the research that my pi ede< essor, 
Dana Everts, has done and that 1 will continue to 
do in doc umenting the traditions ol today's prac- 
ticing folk artists in the state. 

The Heritage Center at New Mexico State 
University, under the direction ol Dr. Andrew 
Wiget, is becoming an important arc hive ol oral 
histories, and is helping to document and under- 
stand the artistic traditions of southern New 
Mexii o. The Maxwell Museum ol Anthropology 
at the University of New Mexico has been a 
repository ol unique Southwest traditional e ul- 
tural artifac is for many years. It continues ilns 
tradition l>\ sponsoring exhibits such as a recent 
one on Zuni fetish carvers by Marian Rodee, 
i urator ol Southwest Ethnology and James 
( Ktlei . Dire< tor ol the Pueblo <>l Zuni Ai is and 
( rails. The fohn D. Robb collection at the Uni- 
versity ol New Mexic o Fine Arts Library is per- 
haps ihe best collec lion ol early New Mexic an 
music in the- world. Jack Loeffler, an ethnomusi- 
cologist from Santa Fe, and Adrian Trevino, ol 
L'NM's I lispanii Services ( enter, continue 
Robb's tradition today, doc umenting the unique 
music ol the Southwest, which continues to exist 
in the fa< e ol the- pervasive forces ol radio and 
television. Ihe Arts Division also suppoi is artistic 
projects around ihe state that are designed to 
educate < ommunities about the rich and varied 
traditions that exist around them. And we are 
participating in the Folklile Festival on die- Mall 
lo make others aware of the rich heritage thai 
exists in the Southwest. 

In our efforts to preserve cultures, we must 
be e archil not lo weaken or significantly alter the 
dynamics from which they developed and contin- 


Churro sheep are herded to pasture in the 
Chama Valley of northern New Mexico. 
Community members in the Valley formed a 
weaving cooperative to preserve local tradi- 
tions of raising sheep and weaving textiles. 
Photo by Terrence Moore 

tie to exist. We must also be wary about casting 
our own cultural judgements on the validity and 
viability- of traditional art forms. For cultural tra- 
ditions are not really the same as endangered 
biological species; the earth's eco-system will not 
be altered if an art form evolves or dies. Surely 
some will be mourned in passing, but an art 
form kept alive apart from its context loses its 
power and beauty. An alabado (hymn) sung on 
the Mall gives a listener a glimpse into the cul- 
ture from whence it sprang, but experienced in 
the context of a morada (Penitente church), the 
music is spiritual and moving in a way that can- 
not be duplicated elsewhere. 

Although we regret that we cannot physically 
transport you to our enchanted land, it gives us 
great pleasure as New Mexicans to share our cul- 
tural treasures with all of you who participate in 
this Folklife Festival. 

Once told by a Navajo trader that her mud 
toys "were not Navajo," Mamie Deschillie 
fashions her figures, like this rider with 
giraffe, after the clay figures made by many 
Navajo children, but extends the repertoire 
of forms. Photo by Lyle Rosbotham 


Pueblo Pottery: 
Continuing a Tradition 

Tessie Naranjo 

My great-grandmothei . Mother Corn, born 
in the 1870s in Santa Clara, raised m\ mother 
and taught her pottery-making at an earl) age. 
My mother had eight children, and we weir all 
introduced to pottery-making as earl) as sin- was. 
We went nut tin the ( lay, helped to mix the tem- 
per and gathered materials for firing. As we grew 
to adulthood, we made our own pots. The suc- 
cession from my great-grandmother to my broth- 
ers a\h\ sisters and me is a small segment oi an 
old, continuous tradition ol Pueblo pottery-mak- 

Archaeologists say that Pueblo people have 
been making pottery for almost 2,000 years 
(IVc kham 1990:1 ). To the Pueblo person, how- 
ever, the practice ol making pottery and its 
forms and designs conies from out beginnings, 
from the beginning ol creation. \1\ community, 
Santa Clara Pueblo, speaks Tew a. To the few a 
the wc H Id is a sphere of earth and sk\ . The sk\ . 
the upper hemisphere, is called a basket, as in a 
I ewa song: "The blue-flower basket on the top oi 
heaven [skv] seems. It gleams and all is done" 
(Spinden 1933:79). The lower hemisphere ol 
this world is seen as a pot or bowl. 

Pottery-making is more than the simple cre- 
ation of an object from earth. The wind nungin 
I ewa means both "earth" and "us." It speaks to a 
feeling that we are of the earth, that the pot .md 
the person are one. Maintaining our relationship 
with all things that are alive, such as i m ks, trees. 
animals and claw is basic to our sense ol well- 
being. The potter and clav are partnei s m eat h 
|n oi ess ol creation. A Santa ( llara pi ittet 
desc i i Iks this relationship, "the cla) is very self- 
ish. It will form itself to what the cla) wants to be. 
I he i la) savs. 1 want to be this, not what you 
want me to lie" (Trimble 1987:13). The clay must 
lie loved and nurtured so that she will, in turn, 
love and nurture. In this world, generations of 

Pueblo mothers have taught their children the 
making and meaning of pottery. To this day we 
teai h our i hildren to dig the c la\ , to crush the 
temper, to mix and shape them into the beauti- 
I ill forms and to et( h designs onto the forms, all 
while respec ting the i lay. In all of the 19 Pueblo 
communities in New Mexico, this connection 
with clay has been repealed and (aught genera- 
tion after genet ation. 

My mothei taught me how to make pottery. 
Now I tea< h my i hildren how to make pottery. 
My granddaughter. ..she makes pottery. We start 
from the beginning, making a bowl, that's how 
we learn (Pueblo potter, 1990). 

Tessie Naranjo, Ph.D., Innn Santa C.luui Pueblo, is Directm 
<>/ ihr Suiiiti ( lara I ultural Preservation Program and the 
Simla Clara Senioi Citizen's Building Project. 

< 'ilatinns and Turlhn Headings 
Brody, |.|. 1971. Indian Painters and White Patrons. 
Albuquerque: Universit) oi Nev\ Mexico Press. 

Dillingham, Kit k. 1987. Historic and Contemporary 
Pueblo Pottery. ElPalacio9S(] ): 26-29. 

Harlow, Fran< is H. 1965. 1 ewa Indian Ceremonial 
Pottery. El Palacio 12 (I): 13-23. 

I\c kham, Stewai t. 1987. I lie Beginnings of a Tradi- 
tion — Pollen Making Comes to the Southwest. II 
Palacio. 93 (1): 20-23. 

. 1990. From This Earth. S.mi.i Fe: Museum 

nt New \le\ic ci Press. 

Spinden, Herberi |oseph, trans. 1933. Songs oj the 
Tewa. New Yen k: The Exposition oi Indian Tribal 
Ails, Inc . 

Toulouse, Betty. 1976. Pueblo Pottery Traditions Ever 
Constant, Evei Changing. El Palacio 82(3): 14-45. 

Trimble. Stephen. 1987. Talking with the Clay. Santa Fe: 
School ol American Research Pi ess. 



Revitalization of Rural Life in 
Northern New Mexico 

Maria Varela 

From a March 23 letter to Festival staff: 

Ganados del Valle/Tierra Wools is an effort 
of community people to utilize weaving, sheep 
raising and other traditional practices to 
strengthen our community and culture. Today, 
as well as during the last 400 years, our way of life 
is based on the need for sustenance, spirituality, 
family and community. Weavings created in this 
context are both artistic and spiritual expressions 
as well as successful in contributing to the eco- 
nomic underpinnings of our culture. 

Weaving in New Mexico was either sustained 
or destroyed by numerous interventions over the 
last 300 years. And while there is on-going 
debate about their impact, many Native Ameri- 
can and Hispano families weaving today are 
descended from those who had been involved 
with the trading posts, the railroad, anthropolo- 
gists, assorted academics, the WPA, the New Deal 
programs, and poverty programs of the 1960s. 

These interventions came from people and 
institutions external to villages and Native com- 
munities. Among the impacts was the severing of 
the cultural practice of weaving from its econom- 
ic and social role. The commercialization of agri- 
culture, agricultural modernization programs by 
the BIA and Land Grant Universities and the 
replacement of churro/Navajo sheep with the 
greasier commercial breeds disconnected weaver 
from flock. Mill-spun yarn, often from New 
Zealand, was purchased bv weavers wanting to 
use a quality yarn which they could afford. Mean- 
while, locally-grown wool went begging on the 
commercial market and family farms/ranches 

Another impact of external interventions 
was the mystification of folk art that has led most 
young people in our villages to believe that 
unless they are "artists," they could not be suc- 
cessful in weaving. 

Eight growers and weavers from the Tierra 
Amarilla area decided to form Ganados [in 

1983] out of concern for their families, villages 
and way of life. People were selling their sheep 
which meant that agricultural lands would lav 
idle. This portended a decline in traditional agri- 
cultural activities. What would the next genera- 
tion do with the land and water? The second 
concern was how to put the area back on its feet 
economically in a way that would strengthen the 
culture, create jobs and make agricultural land 

This group chose wool and weaving as one 
answer to economic revitalization because of a 
commitment to protecting culture, which meant 
to us the necessity of restoring an economy 
based on our native resources and cultural prac- 
tices — especially at a time when the State of 
New Mexico was pushing a downhill ski resort 
for Tierra Amarilla. 

Ganados established Tierra Wools and re- 
established the connection between the land, the 
flock and weaving. This cut rent intervention has 
begun to revitalize the economv and inspire 
other villages. 

Early on we discovered that our flocks still 
had remnants of the old churro breed. In 1984 
we began to restore this breed within family 
flocks. Hearing of this, a group of Navajo weavers 
from the Ramah band became interested. The 
result has been a cooperative relationship 
between the two groups over the last eight years 
which has brought increased funding and tech- 
nical assistance for both, recognition from the 
State Legislature and most recently the sharing 
ol a computer expert in helping create account- 
ing and inventory systems. 

It is my hope that this letter will encourage 
you to make one of the clear focuses of the Festi- 
val how Ramah and Ganados have restored weav- 
ing to the core of our respective cultures. 

Maria Varela, with Antonio Manzanares, founded Ganados 
del Valle in the Chama Valley oj northern New Mexico. She is 
a MacArthur Fellow. 


The Santa Fe Railway and 
Tourism in New Mexico 

Peter White 

More than 30 years before New Mexico 
became a stair in 1912, its territorial Bureau of 
Immigration writers touted the life-giving and 
healing properties of New Mexk o's natural hot 
springs. The mineral waters combined with the 
"miracle of sun and air" led "lungers" and "hack- 
ers," as tubercular patients were < ailed, to follow 
the railroads to New Mexi< o's spas, sanitoi iunis. 
hospitals and resorts in the 1880s. The Atchison. 
Topeka & Santa Fe Railway had signed a contract 
in 1878 with Frederick Henry Harvey, who later 
became known as the "Civilizer of the West," to 
operate their restaurants, dining cars and hotels. 

Fred Harvey, who "introduced America to 
Americans." had a genius for merchandizing cul- 
ture. Hotels in the Harvey system, designed by 
prominent architects like Mary Colter and |ohn 

(OK )K\|)i) 





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Tucunu .ii i L 

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So< orro 
*< ai thage 1 
( !ai i izoz^J 

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ScS.i R* '"• [brrance " 

( oi 'Ki.i 

( 3ovis 

Gaw Meem, were named after Spanish explorers 
and were calculated to "create the romantic 
atmosphere of old Spain." Harvey pro\ided flaw- 
less semce and elegant meals, and he created 
the Harvey girls — moral, attractive, and intelli- 
gent young waitresses who were rigorously 
trained and strictly chaperoned. He insisted 
upon dress codes and decorum in all his estab- 

The Harvey organization sold traditional 
and newly redesigned Indian arts and crafts to 
tourists. Anthropologists were employed to 
instruct women guides dressed as Navajos and 
drivers dressed as cowboys, to conduct the Indi- 
an Detours, motorcar adventures "off the beaten 

The Santa Fe Railway and the Fred Harvey 
( lompany reshaped the alien 
Southwest to make it glow with 
the antiquity and cultural signifi- 
cance ol Egypt, Rome or Greece. 
They invested traditional art 
with the craftsmanship of the 
European Renaissance. And 
they re-created the heroism of 
the Santa Fe Trail, with Harvey 
"cowboys" escorting tourists into 
tin- "hinterlands." They pack- 
aged and publicized what previ- 
ously had been local, traditional 
and often circumspect Native 
and folk cultures. 

.-' "'•Capilan 



• ( loudc ml; 

: I 


.i* ( ruces 

Carlsbad if'* .. 


. i 

M I \ I CO 


I'llri White is associate professor oj I ng 
hsti id the I 'niversity o/ New Mexico. He 
is the author, villi Marta Weigh, o/The 
Lore ol New Mexico. 


Cultural Tourism and 

Ted Jojola 

Since the advent of "leisure" as a class activi- 
ty. New Mexico has been a focus of the itinerant 
sightseer. "See America First" and the "Southwest 
Wonder Land" were cliches which resounded in 
the introductory chapter of Mesa, Canon <unl 
Pueblo, a L925 travel book, written by an adven- 
turer, Charles Fletcher Lummis. The phrases 
aptlv summarized an epoch of early New Mexico 
tourism and image-building. 

Paramount in such imagery were the many 
American Indian communities that inhabit the 
region. Although the cultures of the Apache, 
Navajo and Pueblo peoples are rich and distinc- 
tive, outsiders ultimately formulated their own 
images of American Indians. The dominant Indi- 
an stereotype became the war bonneted, face- 
painted and buckskin-clad "chief," an image pop- 
ularized by the paintings commissioned by the 
Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railway in the 
1900s. The penetration of this popular stereo- 
type into the Southwest mystified outsiders' 
understanding of the local cultures. A Southwest 
Indian myth was invented, as New Mexico also 
became populated with benign rattlesnakes, 
howling coyotes, Indian chiefs and desperados. 

Curiously, in this period there were two dis- 
tinctive but often parallel aspects of "Indian" 
image-making. One was promulgated by social 
scientists in the fields of anthropology, ethnogra- 
phy and history. The other was developed by 
entrepreneurs of the tourism and film industries. 
Among social scientists. New Mexico became a 
"living laboratory." Among entrepreneurs. New 
Mexico became a "living backdrop." In both 
instances, the representations were devised by 
outsiders whose interests were served by the affir- 
mation of a primitive and exotic human land- 
scape. Thev drew on their own preconceptions 
and prejudged experiences to selectively appro- 

Tedjqjola, Ph.D.. /mm hleta Pueblo, New Mexico, is Directm 
of Native American Studies at the University nj New Mexico. 

priate elements of the "Indian." The resulting 
image was a subjective interpretation that merely 
corroborated the outsider's viewpoint. This 
process of revisionism more often than not 
entailed remaking American Indians apart and 
separate from their own historical and communi- 
ty realities. 

The impact of revisionism among American 
Indians themselves in New Mexico was apprecia- 
ble. Many Natives catered exclusively to the 
"Indian Chief image and, for years, social scien- 
tists voiced their concerns about the disappear- 

Tourists purchase wares under a portal in Santa Fe. 
Photo by Henry Grasso 


Santa Clara Eagle Dancers are ringed by spectators and Harvey cars, ca. 1928. Photo courtesy Museum of New Mexico 

ance oi Native traditions and culture. The South- 
west Indian mystification lias become so perva- 
sive that an average tourist expects the won! 
"authentic" to indicate that the Native people 
have used prehistoric techniques to produce 
their wares. 

On the other hand. New Mexico has a < om- 
plex pluralistic human settlement history charac- 
tei tzed b) subtle transformations and by the con- 
stant adaptation of new cultural traditions 
among distinct communities. Main ol these 
n ansfoi -i nations have emerged from the interac- 
tion ol diverse Anglo, Hispanic and American 
Indian communities. The abilities ol various 
communities to adapt creativel) to outside- tradi- 
tions lias been largely ignored or understated. 

These distortions in representation, in the 
context oi Indians' growing empowerment, has 
< i eated a challenging issue in New Mexico t< >da\: 
how will tribes themselves regulate their own 
tourist enterprises, should the\ c hoose to do so. 
rhis is a relatively new question resulting partial- 
l\ from an attempt by tribal governments to 
diversify their economies. Both the Pueblos ol 
Zuni and Pojoaque have begun planning for the 

development and construction of tribal muse- 
ums. In addition, cultural programming for a 
number oi new museums across the United 
States, including the Smithsonian's new Nation. il 
Museum ol the Anient an Indian, causes main 
tribes to rethink their images. 

The central question that remains is whether 
American Indian communities will defer to the 
same revisionist images that have been ascribed 
by the outside. As "insiders," how much cultural 
information will they be willing to divulge, and 
for what reasons? How will they "revise" theii 
own image, while coping with some of the same 
issues ol representation that confront museum 
curators today? Will they allow communities to 
continue to be "living museums" or will they 
choose to stage pageants and reenactments 
designed to shroud their real community pres- 
ence and deflect tourism away from their private 
lives? Bv addressing these and other important 
questions, thev will undoubtedly be able to 
demystify the Indian mystique and contribute to 
the revision ol the- prevailing stereotypes of the 
Southwest Indian. 


Language and Storytelling 

Jose Griego 

Language reflects the history of a culture 
and the languages of New Mexico reflect a com- 
bination of many people's customs, values and 
stories. Although English is the official language 
of public institutions in New Mexico, many New 
Mexicans are bilingual and in some cases multi- 
lingual. Hispanic leaders assured the continua- 
tion of and respect for their language by making 
a provision mandating bilingual education in the 
State Constitution. But Spanish, English and 
even the Athapascan languages of the Navajo 
and Apache are relatively new accents and tonali- 
ties carried on the high desert winds of New 
Mexico. The Pueblo Indian descendants ol the 
ancient Anasazi who have inhabited this land for 
approximately 35,000 years tell their stories in 
Tewa, Tiwa, Towa, Keres and Zuni. 

These cultures often borrowed vocabulary 
from each other, creating new dialects of their 
respective languages. The English language of 
the Southwest uses many Spanish words for 
ranching terms that newly arrived Anglo settlers 
learned from Hispanic neighbors. Lariat tin 
ii'iiln), chaps (chaparreras), hackamore (jdquima), 
mustang (mesteno) and many others came from 
Spanish words with the same meaning. Aztec cul- 
ture had a very strong impact on the Spanish lan- 
guage of Mexico and New Mexico as many 
words, especially names of animals, were incor- 
porated from the Nahuatl language — zopilote 
(buzzard), helote (ear of corn), hololote (corn 
husk), tecolote (owl) and coyote, to name a few. 
Some Tewa words in New Mexican Spanish 
include teguas (moccasins), chaquegiie (blue corn 
meal mush), chacuaco (cigarette), chanate (cof- 
fee). The Tiwa language adopted mam Spanish 
terms, especially for new products and intro- 
duced customs, e.g., manzana'a (apple), pera'a 

Jose Griego is co-curator o/ the New Mexico prog/am at the 
Festival of Amen can Folklife. He is the author, with Rudolfo 
A. Anaya, o/Cuentos, Tales from the Hispanic South- 

(pear), comjxi'e (Godfather). Many English words 
are also used in New Mexican Spanish, especially 
words connected with modern technology, e.g., 
brecas (brakes), parquear (to park) and cloch/i 

Language plays an important part in preserv- 
ing traditions, especially in ston telling on the 
long winter nights that lend themselves to medi- 
tation and imagination. In a huddle around the 
fireplace, as the children get ready for sleep, 
elders hand down stories they heard of the ori- 
gin and survival of their families in this land. 
Their stories mix legends from other cultures 
and tell of encounters with these peoples and 
customs. Pueblo elders recount the mythical ori- 
gins of the ancient Anasazi with such stories as 
the giant serpent that devoured the village of 
Jemez, or the spirit ol the Spider woman that 
resides in the Sandia Mountains. Juan Rael col- 
lected and published hundreds of Hispanic sto- 
ries (Rael 1955) that recall medieval adventures 
of kings, queens and princesses, as well as 
accounts of Hispanic New Mexicans' first awk- 
ward contacts with newcomers after a virtually 
complete isolation from the rest of the world for 
three centuries. 

The dialects of New Mexico can be heard, I 
tell you, as three viejitos recline against a warm 
adobe portal wall to enjoy the resolana. As they 
light up a chacuaco of Prince Albert tobacco 
mixed with anise seed and sip on a cup of 
chanate or chaquegiie, they observe and joke 
about the customs of the turistas. Tio Abenicio 
in faded overalls, drives up in his Ford tractor to 
join the daily ritual of comraderie and mitote.* 


Rael. Juan. 1955. Cuentos de Nuevo Mexico) el Sw de t ol- 
orado. S.uii. i Fe: Museum ol New Mexico Press. 

viejitos = old ones; adobe portal = pon h oi earthen brick; resolana = 
the warmth of the sun; chanate = coffee, < ha( naco = cigarette; 
< haquegue = blue corn meal mush; turistas = tourists, rio = uncle; 
mitote = gossip. 



Creativity and Resistance: 
Maroon Culture in the Americas 

Kenneth Bilby and Diana Band N'Diaye 

In 1739, more than 40 years before the Tint- 
ed States won its war of independence with 
Britain, the British government, then among the 
most powerful in the world, con( hided two 
peace treaties on the island i >l Jamai( a. Those 
with whom the British treated were neither Euro- 
pean generals nor Native American chieftains. 
They were, rather, enslaved All ic ans who had 
managed to escape plantations and form new 
societies in the wilderness. For neat lv a ( entury, 
these escaped slaves had waged a devastating wai 
against the colonists from their strongholds in 
the famaican hills. Unable to defeat them, the 
British were forced to propose treaties recogniz- 
ing the freedom that their formei slaves had 
alread) seized, and granting them land and par- 
ti, d political autonomy. 

The Jamaican treaties were not the first ol 
their kind. Similar pacts had been made, for 
example, between colonial governments and 
communities of escaped slaves in Hispaniola, 
Panama, Venezuela and Ecuador dining the 
1 6th century and in Mexico, Colombia and 
Brazil during the 17th century. Yet oilier treaties 
were to follow the Jamaican ones, such as those 
made in Dutch Guiana during the 18th century. 

The story ol the maroons — as those who 
fled from bondage and I heir descendants 
became known — does not begin with these 
colonial treaties, but goes back to the Yen earli- 
est days of European settlement mk\ slaver) in 
the \mei ic as. In 1502, a mere 10 years aftei 
Columbus' first voyage, the first known Ah ic an 

"Creativity and Resistance: Maroon Culture in the [mericas" 
tins been made possible with the support oj the governments of 
Colombia, French Guiana, Jamaica, Suriname, and Guerrero, 
Mexico; Suriname Airways; Ah Jamaica; the Texas Commis- 
sion on the Arts and Texas Folklife Resources; Camille <>. and 
William II. Cosby, Jr.; Inter-American Foundation; and the 
Smithsonian Educational Outreach Fund. 

maroon escaped his captors and lied into the 
interior ol the island of Hispaniola. No one can 
sa\ with certainty when the first maroon commu- 
nity in the- Americas was established, although 
there cxisis a written document confirming that 
bv the early 1500s a settlement ol escaped 
African slaves had already formed on Samana, an 
island off the northeastern coast of Hispaniola 
(Price 1979: 419). 

Over the nexi three and a half centuries, 
hundreds more such maroon communities were 
to emerge throughout the Americas, as slaves 
took their i hances and broke away from the 
mines and plantations oi the European coloniz- 
ers in a bid foi freedom and independence. 
Their exact numbers will never be known. The 
societies they created ranged in si/e from small 
bands ol 10 or 20 people to powerful kingdoms 
with thousands ol members, sue h as Palmares in 
Brazil, whic h spanned more than 1,000 square 

\d < olony in the Western Hemisphere, no 
slave-holding area, was immune to the growth of 
such alternative maroon societies. Wherever 
large expanses < >l mace cssible and uninhabited 
terrain permitted, .is in the vast Guianese rain- 
forest or the mountainous Jamaican interior, 
these communities proliferated. Even in the 
British North American colonies, and later the 
United Stales, where unoccupied yet habitable- 
spaces were not as plentiful, more than 50 
maroon settlements are known to have come 
into being between lf>7'_' and 1864. We have no 
way of estimating how main others may have- 
escaped the notice- of historians. 

In main ways the m. noon experience is 
emblematic ol broadei processes that helped 
shape the Western Hemisphere. Not only were 
maroons in the forefront of resistance to slavery, 
they were among the first pioneers to explore 
and adapt to the- more remote, unsettled spaces 


Nacimiento de !<>■> Negro 

Mi mil' InWll 

. <\\ indward Mai is) 







San Nicolas de 
Munii ipaJityofC 


iajini< uila] 


\lt\lc 11 

K Kwimi □ Ndjuka 

□ Matawai j I'iujimI 

O S.uani.ik.r ■ Aluku' 

Maroon peoples parti< ipating in the Festival 

Maroon communities participating in the Festival 

in both American continents and the Caribbean. 
Maroons were among the first Americans in the 
wake of 1492 to resist colonial domination, striv- 
ing for independence, forging new cultures and 
identities, and developing solidarity out of diver- 
sity — processes which only later took place, on a 
much larger scale, in emerging nation-states. In 

O (DO 

the French colony of Saint-Domingue, maroons 
helped to launch the Haitian Revolution, which 
gave birth to one of the first independent 
republics in the Americas in 1804. 

Although there is a large and growing body 
of scholarly writing about maroons based on 
solid archival research, relatively few people 

Kenneth Bilby and Diana Band N'Diaye are co-i urators oj 
the Maroon program at theFestival oj American Folklife. 
Kenneth Bilby is an anthropologist and etknomusicologist 

zoho has done extensive research among hull) the Windward 
Maroons of Jamaica and the Aluku Maroons of French 
Guiana. He holds a Ph.D. in anthropology from Johns 
Hopkins University. Diana Band N'Diaye is an anthro- 
pologist on the staff of the Center for Folklife Programs and 
Cultural Studies with research interests in the elhno-aes- 
thetics of Africa and its Diaspora. For over 15 years she 
has designed and facilitated community-basal cultural 
research and presentation projects. 

today are aware that such communities ever 
existed. Few history books used in schools in the 
United States give attention to the societies and 
cultures that maroons successfully built away 
from the plantations. It is thus particularly 
appropriate in this Columbian Quincentenary 
year to celebrate the histories and cultures of 
maroons, whose heritage of creativity and resis- 
tance has been so much a part of the post- 
Columbian American landscape. 

Contemporary Maroons 

Although many withstood military assaults 
for years, most maroon communities were even- 
tually destroyed by colonial troops, who usually 
outnumbered them and were much better 
armed. After the abolition of slavery, many 
maroon groups were assimilated into the larger 
societies that surrounded them. Of the hundreds 
of such communities once spread across the 
hemisphere, only a few still exist. Present-day 
Maroon* peoples include the Saramaka. Ndjuka, 
Paramaka, Matawai and Kwinti of Suriname; the 

: 1 he authors have chosen to spell "maroon" in lower case when it is 
used in its original descriptive sense, synonymous with 'escaped slave' 
li is ■ apitalized only when used genetically to refer to contemporary 
pei iples hi ethnk groups. 


An Aluku woman in Asisi, French Guiana, bakes cassava cakes (baka kasaba). Maroons originally learned 
this method of food preparation from Native Americans. Photo by Diana Baird N'Diaye 

Aluku of Fiench Guiana; the Palenqueros oi 
Colombia; the Windward and Leewai d Maroons 
ol Jamaica; the Garffuna of the \i l.t 1 1 1 i< < oast < >l 
I triii . i i America; the Maroons oi the Costa 
Chica region in Mexico; and the Seminole 
Maroons ol Texas. Oklahoma. Mexico and the 

Eight contemporary Maroon peoples from 
six dill ere ni countries will participate in the Fes- 
tival in 1 1 us Quincentenary year. Three <il these 
peoples ( ome from the Amazon basin in north- 
eastern Soul h America. The an< estors ol the 
Saramaka began escaping from Surinamese plan- 
tations m the late 17th century; aftei Fighting 
againsl the Dutch for nearh a century, the) 
made a treatv with them in 1762. Toda) the Sara- 
maka live along the Suriname Rivei in the interi- 
oi i amloi est of Suriname. Then neighbors, the 
Ndjuka oi Okanisi (Aukaners), inhabit the 
I apanahony and Cottica rivei s to the east. The 
am esioi s ol i hi' Ndjuka, who began fleeing from 
Dutch plantations in the earl) ISili century, 
made a li ealv with the Dutch in I 760. A( i ( iss the 
Maroni and Lawa i ivei s in Fi en< h Guiana live 
the Aluku oi Boni, whose forebears began leav- 
ing i he plantations shortl) aftei the Ndjuka. In 
1 77t i-7 the) i i ossed from Suriname into French 
( in i ana. where thev have lived ever since. Aftei 

years ol sti uggle, their freedom was re< < ignized 
In ,i joinl treat) with the French and Dutch in 

The Soi ul i A m ei ic an < ountry ol ( lolombia is 
home to the ( ontemporary Maroon community 
ol Palenque de San Basilio, not far from the port 
ol ( lartagena, which was oik e at tin- center of 
the Spanish slave trade. The Palenqueros are 
desc ended from sla\es who escaped from Span- 
ish plantations dm ing the 1 7th century. After 
several failed attempts to eradicate them, the 
colonial governmenl .u\il the ancestors ol the 
Palenquei os came to terms between 171 .'i and 

In the ( !ai ibbean island ol famaica are some 
ol the best known ( on i em pi rrary Maroon com- 
munities. The Windward Maroons are based in 

the villages > >I M e Town. S< i >tts 1 Iall and 

( lharles Town in the eastern Blue Mountains. 
Thev can trace their origins as a people bat k to 
1655, when the British sei/ed the island from the 
Spanish, and a large number ol slaves fled into 
the hills. In latei years these initial runaways 
were joined by others from British plantations. 
The ancestors ol the Leeward Maroons, whose 
main contemporar) settlement is Accompong in 
the western Cockpit Country, began to est ape 
from plantations in the kite I 7th century. By the 


1 730s, both groups posed such a threat to the 
plantation system that the British colonial gov- 
ernment had to sue for peace, concluding sepa- 
rate treaties with the two groups in 1739. 

The Maroons of the Costa ( Ihica area in the 
Mexican states of Guerrero and Oaxaca are 
descendants of slaves who began escaping in the 
late 16th century from Spanish cattle ranches 
and estates alonsr the Pacific coast. When the 
colonial government launched a military cam- 
paign against them, they retreated into more 
inaccessible areas, where they remained unde- 
feated until the abolition of slavery in Mexico in 

The Seminole Maroons, now divided among 
Oklahoma, Texas, the Bahamas and the north- 
ern Mexican state of Coahuila. originated in 
Spanish Florida, where groups of escaped slaves 
from South Carolina and Georgia began seeking 
refuge in the early 18th century. Though they 
developed a close alliance with those Native 
American groups who came to be known as 
Seminole Indians, these maroons maintained a 
separate identity. After the end of the Seminole 
War in 1842, they were transported along with 
their Indian allies to Oklahoma. To avoid raids 
by slave-catchers, a portion of the Seminole 
Maroons moved to Mexico, where their descen- 
dants, known as Negros Mascogos, remain today. 
During the mid-19th centurv, some of these Mex- 
ican Seminoles moved to Texas, where they 
joined the U.S. Cavalry as part of a special divi- 
sion known as the Seminole Negro Indian 
Scouts. Their descendants live today in Brack- 
ettville and Del Rio, Texas. 

Adaptation and Survival in a New World 

It is difficult for us today to imagine the chal- 
lenges faced by the earliest maroons. Runaways 
who banded together usually came from several 
different parts of Africa, and thus were divided 
bv differences of culture and language. They 
found themselves in new and largely unfamiliar 
environments, in constant danger of recapture. 
Sudden attack bv colonial troops remained a 
permanent possibility. Developing means of sub- 
sistence and defense were the primary demands 
of this new world. 

But the struggle for survival was not limited 
to learning how to live off the land or fend off 
invaders. In fact, it required the creation of 
whole new societies, cultures and languages. In 
forming new maroon communities, culturally 
diverse people were drawn into a complex 
process of adaptation. They were obliged to 

adapt not only to the natural environment, but 
to one another's different ways of speaking, 
working, praying, governing, staking claims, 
making music, courting, marrying, giving birth, 
bequeathing and dying. 

In devising methods of subsistence, military 
strategies, systems of authority and shared lan- 
guages, maroons typically selected from the full 
range of cultural resources available to them — 
African, Native American and European. The 
breadth of this spectrum of resources improved 
their chances for survival. 

The legacy of this process of cultural 
exchange and adaptation is clearly discernible 
among contemporary Maroons. Among the 
Ndjuka and Aluku of Suriname and French 
Guiana, for instance, both the primary staple, 
cassava, and the methods used to prepare it are 
of Native American derivation, as is much of the 
technology they rely on for hunting, fishing and 
cultivation. Similarly, two popular dishes pre- 
pared bv Seminole Maroons in Texas and Okla- 
homa, suffki and toli, were learned from Native 
Americans. In Jamaica and Suriname, on the 
other hand, contemporary Maroon foodways 
often show a pronounced African influence. 
Palenqueros in Colombia. Windward and Lee- 
ward Maroons in Jamaica and Surinamese 
Maroons employ many different types of animal, 
fish and bird traps ol varied origin — African, 
Native American and European. Traditions of 
herbal medicine, for which contemporary 
Maroons everywhere are renowned, also reflect 
all three souri es. 

The music, dance, verbal arts and spiritual 
traditions of contemporary Maroon peoples, 
however, are predominantly African in origin. 
But even here there are exceptions. The Aluku 
of French Guiana, for example, honor their 
dead with certain songs and dances said to have 
been learned long ago from Native Americans 
with whom their ancestors shared the Guianese 
rainforest, while the Seminole Maroons of Texas 
have an American Indian-style dance called the 
Seminole Stomp. In contrast, the Creole lan- 
guages spoken by contemporary Maroons have 
vocabularies primarily of European origin, 
though they contain substantial numbers of 
African and Native American words as well. At a 
deeper level, the sound patterns and certain styl- 
istic features of these languages clearly reflect 
tin- influence of African languages. 

Even those contemporary Maroon cultural 
traditions that are most recognizably of African 
origin — those that are devoid of European or 


Native American influence — are outcomes oi a 
process that long ago blended diverse elements 
from .1 variety <>l different African cultures. For 
this reason, the cultures oi Maroons today are 
best understood as creative syntheses that have 
combined and recombined originally diverse 
African elements, as well as non-African ele- 
ments, in unique ways. This historic al process oi 
blending and adaptation, resulting in cultures 
thai are simultaneously old and new, has come 
to be known as "creolization." Creolization has 
occurred widely in the Americas over the last 500 
years and continues to lend our mullic ultural 
hemisphere much of its cultural vitality. Foi the 
ancestors ol the Maroons, this c reolizing pro< ess 
was part and parcel ol the struggle for survival on 
the fringes ol the plantation world. As such, it 
was itsell part ol the process oi resistance. 

Self Determination: 
Traditions of Government 

( i eating new soc ieties away from the planta- 
tions could not be achieved through cultural c re- 
oli/ation alone. In order to survive, early maroon 
groups needed to devise ways ol regulating soc ial 
and economic lite. Rights and obligations toward 
neighbors and kin, mechanisms for dispute set- 
tlement and rules ol leadership, sue i ession, own- 
ership, marriage and inheritance all had to be 
established. Free to experiment, maroons suc- 
i ceded in developing a i ange ol politic a I systems 
that effectively fulfilled these needs. 

In the early days, political organization was 
frequently shaped by milium considerations. 
Strong and able leadership, often backed by reli- 
gious sanctions, helped to ensure survival in soc i- 
ciies under siege. Among the early maroon lead- 
ers who achieved lame lor their exceptional 
qualities were Bayano of Panama, Yanga of Mexi- 
co, < ianga Zumba of Brazil, Benkos Bioho ol 
Colombia, Nanny and Kojo of Jamaica, Boni ol 
Suriname .\\\t\ John Horse (also known as Juan 
( laballo oi Gopher John) oi the- southern United 
Si. ucs .md Mexi< o. 

In later years, the treaties mam groups made 
with colonial governments led to a gradual ero- 
sion of autonomy. Nonetheless, some Maroon 
societies maintain distinct political systems stem- 
ming from the earl) days. Surinamese and 
Fi eiK h ( iuianese Maroons, lor instance, are 
headed by paramount chiefs known as Gaamd or 
C.i minium, who are installed with great ceremony 
and hold office foi lile. The office ol paramount 
c liiel is vested with a great deal ol authority . and 
its i h ( upant is treated with great respect. Assist- 

ing these tribal chiefs are a large number of vil- 
lage chiefs {Kabiteni), under-officers (Basin), and 
councils in which elders play a leading role. 

Public issues are discussed and debated, and 
i ascs tried and judged, in the context of formal 
meetings known as kuutu. The more serious 
kuutu are presided over by chiefs and prominent 
elders. Kuutu oratory is always interactive and 
highly stylized, performed as an antiphonal 
ex( hange between a series of speakers and a for- 
mal interlocutor known as pikiman (literally, "the 
man who answers"). Governed by a complex eti- 
quette, and c haracterized by indirection, digres- 
sion and metaphor, oratory is easily distinguish- 
able from ordinary speech. 

Kuutu may be spontaneous meetings of four 
or five family members who come together to 
iron out a domestic problem: or they may be 
caretulK planned gatherings in which the' para- 
mount chief and all the village chiefs assemble to 
discuss issues affecting the entire society. Well 
adapted to highly fluid social circumstances, 
such .is those in which the early ancestors lived, 
the kuutu tradition continues to serve Suri- 
namese- Maroons admirably today. 

Jamaican Maroons also maintain their own 
spec ial swem of local government. The Wind- 
ward Maroon community ol Moore Town, for 
example, is led bv an clc-c ted e hief bearing the 
title Colonel, who works together with under-offi- 
cers and an appointed council known as the 
Kniiiiili (Committee). Disputes between individu- 
als over sec lions of communally-held Maroon 
lands — and a host ol other relatively minor 
problems — are ailed and resolved in the con- 
text ol committee meetings. Issues that concern 
the entire community, on the other hand, 
require larger gatherings called "Township Meet- 
ings," to which the general public is summoned 
by blowing the abeng, a West African signaling 
device made from a c ow's horn. 

This year's Festival is honored by the pres- 
ence of several Maroon leaders, including para- 
mount chiefs from Suriname and French 
Guiana, and Maroon Colonels from Jamaica. 
These distinguished representatives earn on the 
proud traditions oi sell government established 
and maintained oxer the generations by their 
predecessors. During this Quincentenary year, 
they will have the opportunity to meet one 
another for the first time. 

Maroon Arts 

In spite of the grim struggle for survival that 
was part ol everyday lile in the early days, 


Maroons were able to create vibrant, distinctive 
and diverse artistic traditions. These expressive 
forms — music, dance, verbal arts, foodways, 
crafts, architecture, personal adornment, and 
others — drew upon the Maroons' African her- 
itage as well as Native American and European 
resources, but emerged as something new and 

The very existence of these remarkable 
Maroon arts demonstrates that even peoples 
under siege have been able to produce great 
beauty. They have been able to remain deeply 
concerned about human intangibles, such as aes- 
thetic expression, upon which the quality of life 
depends. To paraphrase a song composed by 
Wailing Roots, a reggae band formed by young 
Aluku Maroons in French Guiana: "We were 
slaves and we cried tears of blood, but [the 
Aluku leader] Boni led our ancestors out of cap- 
tivity so we coidd enjoy life." 

History and Maroon Identity in the Present 
Contemporary Maroon peoples' identities 
are rooted in memories of the collective struir- 
gles from which their societies emerged. In most 
Maroon communities, a profound sense of histo- 
ry pervades present-day life. 

Among the Accompong Maroons of Jamaica, 
for example, celebrations are held every January 
honoring the great Maroon leader, Kojo, who 
signed the treaty with the British in 1739. Attend- 
ed by thousands of visitors, this annual event 
centers on old Maroon songs, dances and cere- 
monies passed down from the ancestors. The fol- 
lowing song speaks of the Maroons' continuing 
tradition of self government: 

Law hold-oh! 

Maroon law hold alreadv-eh 

Long taiga wallo 

Law hold-oh 

Law hold alreadv-oh 

Come give me me note a hand-eh 

Long taiga wallo 

Law hold-oh 

The Maroons' own laws still hold, the song 
asserts, and their right to govern themselves for- 
ever has been ratified in writing (to which the 
"note" in the song refers). 

Likewise, the Moore Town Maroons com- 
memorate their famous ancestress and spiritual 
leader, Nanny, with a festival even' October. As 
part of the ceremony. Maroon men sometimes 

A Jamaican Maroon from Accompong Town plays the 
gumbe drum during the annual January 6 celebration in 
honor of the Maroon hero Kojo. Photo by Vivien Chen 

conceal themselves from head to toe in the leafy 
vine known as cacoon. This ingenious camou- 
flage, which Maroons call "ambush," was used by 
the ancestors during their battles against the 
British more than two centuries ago. Even' 
autumn in Brackettville, Texas, the Seminole 
Maroons gather to hold a memorial senice at 
the graves of their ancestors and to celebrate 
Seminole Day with stories and foodways passed 
down over the generations. 

In most contemporary Maroon communi- 
ties, oral historians remain an important source 
of knowledge about the past. In Suriname, 
Jamaica and elsewhere, narratives about "first- 
time" — the early days of flight and struggle — 
are told with great emotion and circumspe< don, 
and only in certain contexts. While a portion of 
this cherished historical knowledge may lie 
shared with outsiders, much of it is held sailed 
and kept secret. 

I- mi Maroons everywhere, history is a cause 
for great pride, a foundation of collective identi- 
ty and a source of strength and confident e as 
they face the future. Although their histories dif- 


Members of the Aluku Maroon reggae band. Wailing Roots, prepare for a news broadcast at Studio T.R.M., an Aluku-run 
television station in Maripasoula, French Guiana. Photo by Diana Baird N'Diaye 

fer, they all speak eloquentl) <>l the hei nam- "' 
( nativity and resistance thai is as important a 
pari dl this hemisphere's experienc e as the tidal 
wave ol greed, destruction and oppression thai 
followed Columbus' first landing. 

Maroon Identity in the 1990s and Beyond 

Maroon communities no longei lac e the 
saute c hallenges that confronted them dm ing 
t licit lot tiiatioii. Slavery is gone, but nowadays 
there arc new challenges. Though different in 
( li.n.K ter from the old, they nevertheless threat- 
en the survival ol Maroon < ommunities as dis- 
tinct groups with unique identities. Maroon vil- 
lages are no longer as isolated as they once were. 
In sonic places roads have been built where 
none' existed before; in others, new modes ol 
transpc n tat ion. such .is ait planes and canoes with 
outboard motors, have made Maroon communi- 
ties me n c ac c essible. External pressui es 1 anging 
from civil wars to government welfare programs 
erode and threaten to undermine the freedom 
and autonomy that Maroons fought so hard to 
win. A growing number of young people are 
migrating out of their communities to urban 
centers. I hose who stay know less and less about 
the traditions ol their am estors. Maroon wavs 

must now compete with the allure ol the world 
ol outsiders foi the attention ol the young. Pollu- 
tion impinges on the natural environments in 
which Maroons live-. 

( Governments have c hanged hands since the 
original Maroon treaties were made. Ironically, 
the ending ol colonial rule has left Maroon com- 
munities with treaties that nan. tin sac rosanct to 
them, hut which present governments may find 
.mac hi on i stic (Kopytofl 1979). The ambiguous 
status ol these treaties has placed Maroon com- 
munities in a vulnerable position. It has threat- 
ened the systems ol communal land tenure 
maintained hv several (ommunities. and in some 
cases has compromised the authority ol their 
leadei s. 

Relationships hei ween M. noons who have 
left their communities ol origin to reside perma- 
nently in the cities and those who have staved 
home are often ambiguous and sometimes 
strained. The unique languages, bodies of knowl- 
edge and skills that are integral to Maroon iclen- 
titv d\u\ i ulture are in danger ol not being 
passed on. and in some cases threaten to disap- 
pear within one or two generations. 

In the lac e ol these c hallenges, Maroons 
have applied their am estors' spirit ol creativity 


and resistance in new ways to meet modern cir- 
cumstances. Elected Aluku officials in the 
French overseas department of French Guiana 
struggle to accommodate a foreign system of gov- 
ernment to their own. Meanwhile, they partici- 
pate in conferences with Native American peo- 
ples of the region to examine whether and how 
their systems of traditional law can continue to 
co-exist with French law. Young Ndjukas living in 
the coastal Surinamese capital of Paramaribo 
have formed social and cultural self-help organi- 
zations such as Kifoko to promote pride in their 
own heritage, and have begun to preserve and 
document their own cultural traditions. Commu- 
nity historians among the Texas Seminole are 
becoming curators and documenters of their 
own heritage and are making sure that it is rep- 
resented in broader celebrations of African- 
American history and culture. Jamaican Maroon 
leaders in Moore Town and Accompong are 
working to educate and encourage younger 
Maroons in the traditions that are their 
birthright. These elders are also investigating 
ways of developing a sensitive and respectful type 
of cultural tourism that would provide employ- 
ment for their children and might encourage 
them to remain in their home communities. 

Though the challenges that faced the earli- 
est ancestors were of a different kind, similar 
questions — of adaptation and survival, self- 
determination and identity, and innovation and 
continuity — are very much alive for their 
descendants. In the closing years of the 20th cen- 
tury, these questions remain as much a part of 
Maroon existence as they were nearly 500 years 
ago when the courageous ancestors of these peo- 
ple first began to fight for the right to remain 
their own masters. 

Citations and Further Readings 

Aguirre Beltran, Gonzalo. 1958. Cuijla: Esbozo Etnogrd- 

/ini de un Pueblo Negro. Mexico: Fondo de Cultura 
F.i onomica. 

Bilby, Kenneth. 1981. The Kromanti Dance of the 
Windward Maroons of Jam. ma. Nieuwe West-Indische 
Gids 55(1/2). 

. 1989. The Aluku and the Communes: A Prob- 
lematic Policy of Assimilation in French Guiana. 
Cultural Survival Quarterly 13(3). 

Campbell, Mavis C. 1988. The Maroons of Jamaica 1655- 
1 796: A History of Resistance, Collaboration and Betray- 
al. Granby, Massachusetts: Bergin and Garvey. 

Escalante, Aquiles. 1979. El Palenque de San Haulm: 
Una Comunidad de Descendientes tie Negros Cimarrones. 
2d ed. Bogota: Ediciones Editorial Mejoras. 

de Friedemann, Nina S. 1987. MaNgombe: Guerreros v 
Ganadems en Palenque. 2d ed. Bogota: ( iarlos Valen- 
cia Editores. 

Gutierrez .Vila. Miguel Angel. 1988. Corrida v Violencia 
enlre Ins ifromestizos de la Cosla Chica de Guerrero v 
Oaxuea. Chilpancingo: Universidad Autonoma de 

Hanco< k, Ian. 1980. The Texas Seminoles ami Then Lan- 
guage. Austin: Published by the Author. 

Herskovits, Melville |. and Frances S. Herskovits. 1934. 
Rebel Destiny: A mong the Bush Negroes o] Dutch 
Guiana. New York: McGraw Hill. 

Hurault, jean. 1970. Africains de Guyane: La Vie 
Malenelle el I'Art des Noirs Refugies de (.inane. Paris 
and The Hague: Monti in. 

Kopytoff. Barbara. 1976. The Development c > J 

famaican Maroon Ethnicity. Caribbean Quarterly 22 
(2 3). 

. 1979. Colonial Treaty as Sacred Charter ol 

tin' Jamaican Mar is. Ethnohistory 26. 

Lenoir, J. D. 1975. Surinam National Development 
and Maroon Cultural Autonomy. Social and Econom 

Price, Richard. 1976. The Guiana Maroons: A Historical 
and Bibliographical Introduction. Baltimore: fohns 
Hopkins University Puss. 

Price, Richard, ed. 1979. Maroon Societies: Rebel Slave 
Communities in the Americas, 2d ed. Baltimore: Johns 
Hopkins Universit) Press. 

Pi u e, S.ilh. I 'is I, Co-Wives and ( 'alabashes. Ann Arbor: 
University ol Michigan Press. 

Price, Sal 1\ and Richard Price. 1980. Afro- American Arts 
oj the Suriname Hum Forest. Berkeley: University of 
( lalifoi ni. i Press 

Robinson, Carey. 1992. The Iron Thorn. Kingston: 
Kingston Publishers Limited. 

Stedman. John Gabriel. 1992. Stedman's Surinam: Life 
in an Eighteenth-Century Slave Society, ed. Richard 
Price- and Sallv Price. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins 
L'nivci sin Pi ess 

Thybony, Scott. 1991. The Black Seminoles: A Tradi- 
tion of Courage. Smithsonian 22(5). 

Suggested I istening 

Drums of Defiance: Maroon Musit from the Earliest Free 
Blurb Communities of Jamaica. Smithsonian Folkways 

From Slavery to Freedom: Music of the Saramaka Maroons 
oj Sin i na m e Lyrichord 7334. 

Jamaican Ritual Music from the Mountains and Coast. 

Lyrichord 7394. 

Mush from Saramaka: A Dynamii Afro-American 
Tradition. Smithsonian/Folkways 4225. 

Musique Bum el Wayana de Guyane. Disques Vogue/ 
Musee de l'l lomme 290. 



Rebel Slaves in the Americas 

Richard Price 

The man who was to become the first 
African-American maroon arrived within a 
decade of Columbus' landfall on the very fust 
slave ship to reach the Americas. One of the last 
maroons to escape from slavery was still alive in 
Cuba only 15 years ago. The English word 
"maroon" derives from Spanish cimarron — itscll 
based on an Arawakan (Taino) Indian root. 
Cimarron originall) referred to domestic cattle 
that had taken to the hills in Hispaniola, and 
soon alter it was applied to American Indian 
slaves who had escaped from the Spaniards as 
well. Bv the end ol the 1530s, the word had 
taken on strong connotations of being "fiei i e," 
"wild" and "unbroken," and was used primarily 
to refer to African-American runaways. 

For more than four centuries, the communi- 
ties lo] med b) such est aped slaves dotted the 
h inges ol plantation America, from Brazil to the 
southeastern United States, from Peru to the 
American Southwest. Known variously as palen- 
ques, quilombos, mocambos, cumbes, mambises, oi 
ladeiras, these new societies ranged from tiny 
bands that survived less than a year to powerful 
states encompassing thousands ol members that 
survived for generations and even centuries. 
Today then des< endants still form semi-indepen- 
dent em laves in several parts <>l the hemisphere 
— for example, in Suriname. French Guiana, 
Jamaica, Colombia and Belize — fiercely proud 
of their maroon origins and. in some cases at 
least, faithful to unique cultural traditions that 
were forged during the earliest days of African- 
American history. 

During the past several decades, historical 

I!/ 1 li n nl Price's most in ml lii inks mi I uilr First- rime, win- 
mi n/ the Elsie Clews Parsons Prize ••! the American Folklore 
Society, iiml Alain's \\ 01 Id, winnei of the Albert]. Beveridge 
1/ the \merican Historical Association. With Sally 
-, written Afro-American \i ts <>l the Suriname 
Rain Forest, Two Evenings in Saramaka, Stedman's 
Surinam, unit, most recently, Equatoria. 

scholarship has done much to dispel the myth of 
the docile slave. The extent of violent resistance 
to enslavement has been documented rather 
Inllv — from tht' revolts in the slave factories of 
West Africa and mutinies during the Middle Pas- 
sage to the organized rebellions that began to 
sweep most colonies within a decade after the 
arrival of the first slave ships. There is also a 
growing literature on the pervasiveness of vari- 
ous forms of "dav-to-dav " resistance — from sim- 
ple malingering to subtle but systematic acts ol 

Maroons and their communities can be seen 
to hold a special significance for the study ol 
slave soi ieties, for they were both the antithesis 
ol all that slavery stood tor, and at the same time 
a widespread and embarrassingly visible part of 
these systems. The ver) nature of plantation slav- 
ery engendered violence and resistance, and the 
wilderness setting of early New World plantations 
allowed marronage and the ubiquitous existence 
ol organized maroon communities. Throughout 
\h o-Amei ic a. such com muni lies stood out as an 
hei < iii challenge to white authority, and as living 
proof of a slave' 1 on si iousness that refused to be 
limited by the whites' definition and manipula- 
tion ol it. 

Within the- liist decade ol most colonies' 
existence, the most brutal punishments had 
already been inflicted on recaptured rebel slaves, 
and in many cases these were quickly written into 
law. An earl) 18th-century visitor to Suriname 
1 eported that 

il a slave runs away into the forest in order 
to avoid work for a few weeks, upon his 
being captured his Achilles tendon is 
1 emoved for the first oil em e, while lot a 
sec iinrl offence... his right leg is amputated 
in order to stop his running away; I myseli 
was a witness to slaves being punished 
this way. 

And similar punishments for marronage — 


This engraving from ca. 1786 depicts 
peace negotiations between Maroons 
and British soldiers on the Caribbean 
island of St. Vincent in 1773. These 
Maroons were ancestors of the Garifuna 
people who live today along the 
Atlantic coastline of Central America. 
Engraving from an original painting by 
Agostino Brunias; courtesy National 
Library of Jamaica 

from being castrated to being slow- 
ly roasted to death — are reported 
from different regions throughout 
the Americas. 

Marronage on the grand scale, 
with individual fugitives banding 
together to create independent 
communities of their own, struck 
directly at the foundati< >ns of the 
plantation system. It presented 
military and economic threats that 
often strained the colonies to their 
very limits. In a remarkable num- 
ber of cases throughout the Ameri- 
cas, whites were forced to appeal to 
their former slaves for a peace 
agreement. In their typical form, 
such treaties — which we know of 
from Brazil, Colombia. Cuba, 
Ecuador, Hispaniola, Jamaica, Mexico and Suri- 
name — offered maroon communities their free- 
dom, recognized their territorial integrity, and 
made some provision for meeting their econom- 
ic needs. In return, the treaties required 
maroons to end all hostilities toward the planta- 
tions, to return all future runaways, and, often, 
to aid the whites in hunting them down. Of 
course, many maroon societies never reached 
this negotiating stage, having been crushed by 
massive force of arms; and even when treaties 
were proposed they were sometimes refused or 
quickly \iolated. Nevertheless, new maroon 
communities seemed to appear almost as quicklv 
as the old ones were exterminated, and they 
remained, from a colonial perspective, the 
"chronic plague" and "gangrene" of many plan- 
tation societies right up to final Emancipation. 

To be viable, maroon communities had to be 
inaccessible, and villages were typically located in 
remote, inhospitable areas. In the southern 
United States, isolated swamps were a favorite 
setting. In Jamaica, some of the most famous 
maroon groups lived in "cockpit country," where 
deep canyons and limestone sinkholes abound 

but water and good soil are scarce. Aid in the 
Guianas, seemingly impenetrable jungles provid- 
ed maroons a safe haven. 

Main maroons throughout the hemisphere 
developed extraordinary skills in guerrilla war- 
fare. To the bewilderment of their colonial ene- 
mies, whose rigid and conventional tactics were 
learned on the open battlefields of Europe, 
these highly adaptable and mobile warriors took 
maximum advantage of local environments. 
They struck and withdrew with great rapidity, 
making extensive use of ambushes to catch their 
adversaries in < rossfire. They fought only when 
and where they chose, relying on trustworthy 
intelligence networks among non-maroons (both 
slaves and white- settlers), and often communicat- 
ing military information by drums and horns. 

The initial maroons in any New World 
colony hailed from a wide range of societies in 
West and Central Africa; at the outset, they 
shared neither language nor other major aspects 
of culture. Their collective task was nothing less 
than to create new communities and institutions, 
via a process of integrating cultural elements 
drawn largely from a variety of African societies. 


Those scholars who have mosl closely examined 
contemporary Maroon life agree that these soci- 
eties are often uncannily "African" in feeling but 
at the same time larger) devoid ol directly trans- 
planted systems. However "African" in charac- 
ter, no maroon social, political, religious, or aes- 
thetic system can be reliably traced to a specific 
African ethnic group. They reveal rather their 
sync retistic composition: they were forged by 
peoples bearing diverse African, European and 
Amerindian cultures who met in the dynamic 
setting of the New World. 

The political system ol the great 17th-centu- 
ry Brazilian maroon community ol Palmares, foi 
example, which R.K. Kent has characterized as 
an "African" state, "did not derive horn aparticu- 
lm central African model, but horn several." In 
the development of the kinship system oi the 
Ndjuka Maroons oi Suriname, writes Andre 
Kobben, "undoubtedly their West-African her- 
itage played a part ... [and] the influence oi the 
matrilineal Akan tribes is unmistakable, but so is 
that of patrilineal tribes ... [and there are] signif- 
icant differences between the Akan and Ndjuka 
matrilineal systems." Historical research has 
revealed that the woodcarving <>l the Suriname 
Maroons, long considered "an African art in the 
Americas" on the basis ol many formal resem- 
blanc es, is (in the winds ol fean Huraull ) in I act 
a fundamentally new. Alt i< an-Amei ic an ai t "lor 
which it would be pointless to seek the origin 
through direr t transmission of an) particulai 
African style." And detailed historical investiga- 
tions — both in museums and in the held — ol a 
range ol c ultural phenomena among the Sara- 
maka Maroons of Suriname have- confirmed the 
c ontinuing existence of dynamic , creative 
pi i K esses that inspire these' societies. 

Maroon cultures do possess a remarkable 
number of direct and sometimes spec tacular 
continuities from particular Ah ic an peoples, 
ranging from military tec hniques lor defense to 
formulas for warding oil son ery. But these are 
ol the same type as those that cm be found, 
albeit less frequentl) .in Ah ic an-American com- 
munities throughout the hemisphere. And 

stressing these isolated African "retentions" may 
neglect cultural continuities of a far more signifi- 
cant kind. Roger Bastide divided Afro-American 
religions into those he considered "preserved" or 
"canned" — like Brazilian candombU — and those 
that he' c onsidered "alive" or "living" — like 1 lait- 
ian vaudou. The former, he argued, represent a 
kind of "defense nice hanism" or "cultural fos- 
sili/ation," a fear that an) small change ma\ 
biin<> on the end; the latter are more secure ol 


their future and freer to adapt to the changing 
needs of their adherents. More generally, tena- 
cious fidelity to "African" forms can be shown to 
be in main c ases an indication of a culture that 
has final 1\ lost touch with a meaningful part ol 
its African past. Certainly, one ol the most strik- 
ing featui es i il West and ( lentral Ah ic an c ultural 
systems is theii internal dynamism, their ability 
to gn iw <iw\ c hange. The cultural uniqueness ol 

the more developed ma n SOC ieties (e.g., 

those in Suriname) tests firmly on their fidelity 
to "African" cultural principles at these deeper 
levels — whethei aesthetic, political, or domestic 
— rather than on the- frequency of their isolated 
"retentions" i >l loi m. 

Maroon groups had a rare freedom to devel- 
op and transfoi m African ideas from a vai uiv < >l 
societies and to adapt them to changing circum- 
stance-. With dieii hard-earned freedom and 
resilient creativity thev have built systems are 
ai miir meaningfully African and among the most 
ttulv "alive" utnl c ulturallv dynamic ol African- 
Amcrie an c ultiu es. 

Furthei Readings 

Mini/. Sidnev W., and Richard Price. 1992. The Birth 
of African-American Culture. Boston: Beacon. 

Price, Richard. 1979. Maroon Societies: Rebel Slave 
Communities in the Americas. Baltimore: fohns Hop- 
kins I mvei sit) Pi ess. 

. 1983. First-Time: I hi Historical Vision of an 

{fro [merican People Baltimore: fohns Hopkins 
University Press 

. 1991. Alain's World. Baltimore: [dins Hop- 

kins I urn i sin l'i < " 


The Political Organization 

of Maroon Communities 

in Suriname 

H.R.M. Libretto 

Translated from Dutch by Kenneth Bilbv 

Maroons are descendants of Africans forced 
to labor on plantations who escaped and, by wag- 
ing guerilla wars in the 17th and 18th centuries, 
succeeded in forming relatively independent 
tribes* in the interior. Alter signing treaties with 
the colonial rulers, the Maroons, also known as 
Bush Negroes, were able to build societies undis- 
turbed, drawing upon their .African heritage. 

The number of Maroons living in tribal soci- 
eties is presently estimated at 43.000, divided 
among the following tribes: 

1. Saramaka (Saamaka) 

2. Aukaners (Ndjuka or Okanisi) 

3. Matuwari (Matawai) 

4. Paramaka (Paamaka) 

5. Aluku or Boni 

The tribes took their names from the regions 
where they initially settled or from the name of a 
chief. The territory of each tribe is bounded b\ 
mountains, rivers, watersheds and forests. 

The tribes are comprised of subtribes (matri- 
lineal clans or lo) that have established one or 
more villages. The persons of a subtribe feel 
bound together through ties of kinship and com- 
munity history that go back to the formative peri- 
od of marronage. 

In that period of warfare certain persons 
emerged as leaders with military qualities. The 
chief or Gaanman of a tribe would originate from 
the military leader's subtribe. Among the Sara- 
maka, this is the Matjau clan, and among the 
Ndjuka, the Oto clan. 

The colonial treaties, which still form the 

H.R.M. Libretto is District Commissioner oj the Sipaliwini 
District, the administrative division that encompasses the 
interior oj Surinam/', where most <>j the Maroon villages air 
located. An expert in customary law ami govei annul, he is 
the author) n/Het Gezags- en Bestuurssysteem in het 
Binnenland van Suriname (The System of Authority ami 
Government in the Interior n/ Suriname). 

basis of the relationship between the central gov- 
ernment and the traditional Maroon authorities, 
stipulated that the Maroons could move freely in 
the area they then occupied. They were, howev- 
er, without legal title to the land. The territory of 
a tribe forms a unitary expanse of land, but is 
usually situated along a number of river basins. 

Although it is certain that not all Maroons 
had matrilineal origins, a system 
descent is practiced generally. 

In each tribe, the government consists of the 

1. A tribal or paramount chief ( Gaanman, 


2. A number of head chiefs (Ede Kabitrni) 
;>. A number <>t village chiefs (Kabiteni) 

4. A number of male and female under- 
officers ( Basia) 

The designation and installation of these officials 
takes place according to Maroon tradition. 

After installation, each official, upon recom- 
mendation, is appointed bv the Surinamese gov- 
ernment. He or she then becomes eligible for an 
allowance, an official uniform, and a variety of 
other compensations. 

The Gaanman (Paramount Chief) 

The Gaanman, an individual who stands for 
his entire tribe, exclusively' controls relations 
with the central government and thus represents 
the tribe externally. The tribal chief nominates 
lower officials for appointment bv the govern- 
ment. He is the head ol a tribal assembly. 
Because of the importance of his role, the Gaan- 

; Editor's note: As this essay illustrates, the word "tribe" implies .in 
administrative unit. Ii spe< ifies the corporateness oi a group — the 
rights and duties of the members of the group as a whole — from a 

goven 'ntal point oi view, tribe is not necessarih .1 cultural unit. 

and when describing distincl >;i"ups, as in Africa and elsewhere, most 
writers now use tin- nrni "ethnic group" to indicate the group's dis- 
riii* r social 01 < ullural identity in .1 multi-ethni< nation-state. 


Gaama Songo, Paramount Chief of the Saramaka Maroons, receives a gift from Festival curators at his headquarters in 
Asindoopo, Suriname. One of his under-officers formally presents the gift to him. Photo by Diana Baird N'Diaye 

man is released from the mourning obligations 
incumbent upon other members <>l his com- 

The Ede Kabiteni (Head Chief) 

The Ede Kabiteni represents the Gaanman, 
the supreme authority, in supervising the admin- 
istration of a specified territory. Usually, a village 
chiei is elevated to the office of head < hiei by 
virtue ol his administrative abilities. 

The Kabiteni (Village Chief) 

The village chief wields authority ovei a vil- 
lage mi behalf of the paramount chid. Villages 
are represented externally, as units, by the 
Kabiteni, who has a decisive voice in all delibera- 
tions except those occurring in tribe-wide assem- 

The Basia (Under-Officer) 

rhe Basia assists the higher officials in the 
carrying out of all ritual and administrative mat- 
ters. The Basia's principal dutc is to at t as town 
crier ,\nt\ maintainer of order. The sphere ol a 

female Basia's responsibility is restricted to 
domestic ac tivities during ceremonial < >< ( asions. 
In this society, women have a subordinate role. 
All offic ials ate appointed for life. 

Administration of Justice 

Among all Maroon societies, the jural system 
is nearly the same. Each tribe creates its own 
body of laws in the course ol tribal councils. Jus- 
n< ( is based on unwritten rules and is not 
devised exclusively by persons occupying official 
positions. In a< tuality, elders, other respected 
pel sons and family councils dispense justice. The 
reaching ol a verdif. 1, which always takes place 
during a meeting (kuutu), is always public. The 
suspect is not present during the trial but is rep- 
resented by a family member or other advocate. 
Conflicts between families are settled by family 
councils. All conflicts, transgressions and miiioi 
offenses arc settled according to tribal custom. 
Serious crimes such as nun tier are handed over 
to the central government. Finally, it should be 
mentioned that a chiefs house offers temporary 
asylum to all transgressors and accused persons. 


Arts of the Suriname Maroons 

Sally Price 


The daily life of Maroons in the interior of 
Suriname is unusually rich in artistic activity and 
aesthetic discussion. The anthropologist Melville 
Herskovits remarked in 1930 (using a term for 
the Suriname Maroons that was standard in his 
day): "Bush Negro art in all its ramifications is, in 
the final analysis, Bush Negro life." A scene like 
the following is typical: 

Three women are sitting in an open-sided 
shed. Carefully patterned arrangements of scar 
tissue create sharp accents on their faces and 
chests, and their wrap-skirts 
and waist ties make splashes 
of color against the earthen 
floor. One of them is bak- 
ing manioc cakes over a 
barely smoldering fire. She 
spreads the flour deftly over 
the dry griddle, draws her 
fingers over the surface to 
form selected decorative 
patterns, and sifts a thin 
layer of flour on top. While 
each cake bakes, she works 
on a complex, triple-tech- 
nique hairdo for the sec- 
ond woman, who sits on a 
handsomely carved wooden 
stool, an as-yet-uncarved 
calabash shell on her lap. 
Well-known in the village 
for her technical mastery 
and sense of design in this 
medium, she is marking out a pattern for the 
third woman, who will later use pieces of broken 
glass to finish the bowl caning. For now howev- 

Sally Price's books include Co-Wives and Calabashes, win- 
ner of the Hamilton Prize in Women's Studies, and Primi- 
tive Ails in Civilized Places. With Richard Price, she has 
written Afro-American Arts of the Suriname Rain For- 
est, Two Evenings in Saramaka, Stedman's Surinam 
mill, most recently, Equatoria. 

This Ndjuka wooden tray is used for winnow- 
ing rice. Winnowing trays are often carved by 
Maroon men as gifts for their wives. Photo by 
Diana Baird N'Diaye 

er, the third woman is busy crocheting a pair of 
multi-color calfbands for her husband, working 
slowly around a bottle to create an evenly circu- 
lar band. 

The noted carver rotates the prepared cal- 
abash shell, trying to recapture in her mind the 
details of a particular configuration. She discuss- 
es with the woman sitting at her side the design 
they'd like to reproduce, but when neither one 
can remember just how its appendages were 
curved, she settles on a new version which, she 
later decides, is even better 
than the original. The 
woman with the calfbands 
crochets steadily, enlisting 
both her friends' advice 
about the width of the red 
and yellow stripes that will 
form its center. As the three 
of them work, their conver- 
sation alternates between 
village gossip and discus- 
sion of their artistry. 

Gatherings like this 
bring together the artistic 
dimensions in different 
areas of Maroon life, from 
preparing food and serving 
meals to furniture, clothes 
and grooming. Artistry, aes- 
thetic discussion and social 
interaction are routinely 
woven together in the fab- 
ric of Maroon daily life. 

Music and dance are equally integrated into 
village activities. Specialized dances are per- 
formed by the mediums of various possession 
gods, and there are many secular dances, each 
enjoyed in a particular social context. It is rare to 
walk through a Maroon village without hearing 
someone singing. Distinctive song styles con- 
tribute to the whole range of Maroon ritual 
events, from complex funerary rites to the 


"domestication" of a newly discovered spirit; they 
are also part oi communal labor sue li as lolling 
trees or hauling logs and are also performed in 
many casual or even solitary settings. Drums are 
used singly or in various combinations to a( com- 
pany different secular dance forms; to an- 
nounce, supervise and comment on the proceed- 
ings ol large public council meetings: and to 
communicate with each kind oi possession god, 
with other deities and spirits, and with the ances- 
tors. And there are other musical instruments as 
well — bells and wooden trumpets, a stringed 
instrument made with a gourd, and "finger 

Finally, the verbal arts — folk tales, pla) lan- 
guages, proverbs, speeches made l>\ possessed 
mediums, oratory and prayer — emplo) a wide 
range ol shies based on everyday languages, and 
they k^-ep alive a large numbei oi distinf tive eso- 
tei it languages used only in spec ial i itual set- 

In general, Maroons expe( t all these a< mi- 
ties to be practiced and discussed l>\ the entire 
population — in contrast to main African soci- 
eties, where only cei tain individuals are trained 
to be ,u lists, and where critics may also pla) a 
specialized role. The most important t ultural 
division is gender-related; men's and women's 
arts are distinctive in their tools, media and dec- 
orative styles. At least until re< ently, all Maroon 
men were adept at carving a wide range ol wood- 
en objects as gifts foi women — from canoes and 
house fronts to combs and food stirrers — and 
all women produced elaborate pate hwork and 
embroidered textiles to be worn by men. Even 
today, this pattern oi general artistic exchange 
helps shape relations between men and women 
for most ol the Maroon population. 

When Maroons talk about art, which thev 
do often, they almost invariably refei in some 
way to its central role in sot ial life — to artfully- 
designed obje( is presented at a birth ( eremon) 
oi .11 a ritual marking adulthood, to beautifully 
decorative textiles draped on the gabled coffin at 
a dignitary's funeral rites, to the art obje< is 
exchanged to mark the establishment and con- 
tinuation ol a marriage, to the gifts given to help 
celebrate a man's return from long-term wage 
laboi at the ( oast, and so forth. People i arel) 
comment on a w< >< >d< arving without referring to 
the maker, to the woman lor whom it was made, 
and lo details ol their relationship at the 
moment he presented it to her. 

Many visitors to Suriname have understood 
Maroon arts less in the ton text ol their contem- 

porary social setting than in the context of their 
African roots. The villages of the rainforest have 
often been seen as a "little Africa in America" 
and Maroon arts as direct "African survivals." 
The title of one article in a 1939 issue ol Natural 
History magazine promised a description oi 
"Africa's Lost Tribes in South America" in the 
form of "an on-the-spot account of blood-chilling 
African rites ol 200 years ago preserved intact in 
the jungles ol South America by a tribe of run- 
awa) slaves." More recent visitors have even 
claimed that Maroons have maintained a soc iety 
"that is 'more African' than much of Africa is 
today." Behind this view lies the myth that so- 
called primitive societies exist outside of history, 
changing only when other, "more advanced" 
societies impinge on them and erode their "tra- 
ditional way of life." 

In lac i, non-Western societies differ enor- 
mousl) in their attitudes toward change and in 
the amount ol internal dynamism that character- 
izes their cultural lite. The societies of the Suri- 
name- Maroons, like the vast majorit) ol soc ieties 
in West and Central Africa, have always been 
highly dynamic. Art historical rescue h in 
archives, museums and the villages ol the Suri- 
name interior has demonstrated conclusively the 
high value Maroons place on creativity, innova- 
tion and artistic development from one genera- 
tion lo the next. Fai from being static leftovers 
from 1 7th-century Africa, Maroon art has c on ini- 
tially developed as its makers played and experi- 
mented with their ancestral heritage, adapting it 
creatively to their e hanging lives. 

We know thai the original Maroons pro- 
duced Utile dee oi alive woodcarving or textiles; 
their clothing was extremely simple and theii 
houses and furnishings were largel) unembell- 
ished. Il was iiiiK over lime that the relatively 

crude w le arving ol the mid- 19th century 

evolved into a beautiful L'Oih-e entury art that has 
struck main outsiders as "Afric an-looking." And 
the- multi-colored Maroon narrow-strip textiles 
i hat so closel) resemble West African kente cloth 
were invented only during the present century as 
a replacement for a very different textile ail for- 
merly embroidered by Maroon women in red, 
white, and black or navy. Paints, introduced in a 
lew e onservative c olors some 100 years ago, have 
since come lo play a central role among die east- 
ern M. noons. And e alabashes, whic h until the 
mid-lOth century were- decorated only on the 
outside sin laces by men, began to be carved on 
the insides by women, who used new tools and 
piodue ed an entirely new decorative style. 


A Saramaka man in Asindoopo displays a deco- 
rated rattle used to accompany songs for forest 
spirits. In front of him are two carved apinti 
drums. Photo by Diana Baird N'Diaye 

A young Saramaka woman, Fandolina, braids the 
hair of her friend Doisimoni in Asindoopo. The name 
of this particular hairstyle, goon uwii, likens it to a 
cultivated field. Photo by Diana Baird N'Diaye 

In light of this history of change, how does 
one explain the visible resemblances between 
the arts of the Maroons and those of the peoples 
of West and Central Africa? [f stylistic develop- 
ments have repeatedly led Maroon arts in new 
directions, then how has the cultural legacy of 
Africa been expressed in Maroon art over the 
centuries? The answer lies more in the continu- 
ity of African aesthetic ideas than in the direct 
transmission of African artistic forms from one 
generation to the next. The early Maroons were 
not in a position to continue such African tradi- 
tions as weaving and ivory carving, but they did 
succeed in carrying on many of the fundamental 
ideas that underlie the style and meaning of 
those arts in Africa — ideas about symmetry, 
color contrast, and syncopation, and above all, 
the principal understanding that art has a place 
in all aspects of dailv life. 

Even under the harshly repressive conditions 
of slavery and during the century-long period of 
guerrilla warfare against the Dutch colonists, the 
Maroons still found opportunities for story- 
telling, dancing, drumming and singing. They 
made aesthetic choices about the way they 
walked, carried their babies and wore their hair. 
They expressed preferences in the arrangement 
of their household furnishings, the layout of 
their gardens, and in the way they mended their 

clothes, served their meals, and in countless 
other aspects of daily life. These expressive forms 
did not require the specific resources of more 
formally elaborated artistic media, and in this 
way, aesthetic ideas were passed on and applied 
inventively to the (hanging artistic materials 
available to each generation. Forged in an inhos- 
pitable rainforest by people under constant 
threat of annihilation, the arts of the Suriname 
Maroons stand as enduring testimony to African- 
American resilience and creativity. They reflect 
the remarkable vitality of the Maroon artistic 
imagination, an especially exuberant expression 
of the rich and extensive system of African cul- 
tural ideas. 

Furthei Readings 

Price, Richard, and Sally Price. 1991. Two Evenings in 
Saramaka. Chicago: Universit) of Chicago Press. 

Price, Sally. 1984. Co-Wives and Calabashes. Ann Vrbor: 

Universit) "I Michigan Press. 
Price, Sally, and Richard Price. 1980. Afro-American Art 

of the Suriname Rain Forest. Berkeley: University <>l 

California Press. 

Suggested Listening 

Musk /mil/ Saramaka: \ Dynamic Afro-American Tradi- 
tion. Smithsonian/Folkways SF 4225. 



Maroon Societies and 
Creole Languages 

Ian Hancock 

The isolation of Maroon settlements and 
their efforts to keep outsiders at a distance have 
ensured that details of Maroon histor) remain 
ine ompletely documented. There wen- Maroons 
in Jamaica during the period ot Spanish rule, for 
instance, before the English took over that 
island; but we don't know what language the) 
spoke, oi under what conditions it shifted to 
become the English-related Creole spoken today. 
And so far, we can only speculate as to how some 
speakers among the Jamaican Maroons acquired 
and have preserved another Creole language, 
one which hears striking similarities to the Cre- 
oles spoken in Suriname, in South America. We 
are interested both in the historical origins and 
in the social conditions that perpetuated such a 
diversity <>l speech. Despite these gaps in our 

knowledge, what we can learn about Ma i 

societies, and especially about Maroon linguistic 
history, can nevertheless shed light on the devel- 
opment ol ereole languages and on the proi ess- 
es ol creolization in general. 

Creolization of Language 

Linguists have documented many t reole lan- 
guages throughout the world. Creoles are not 
dialects ot the various languages from which they 
took most of their vocabularies — English, Span- 
ish. Portuguese, etc. — and the long-standing 
supposition that they are has caused set ions 
problems in the e lassroom. This unfortunate sit- 
uation is the result of several factors, in particu- 
l.u the perpetuation ol negative- attitudes 
instilled into creole-speaking populations during 
the years ol colonialism, and the lack (until 
recently) of formal training for educators in cre- 
ole language history and structure. Teachei s in 

creole-speaking countries can still treat their stu- 
dents' natural spece h as deficient or defective, 
because this is what the) themselves have been 

Not are Creoles "mixed" languages like, say, 
the Spanish Portuguese dialect of the Brazilian- 
Argentinian bolder: they are new, restructured 
linguistic sv stems with grammars of their own. 
The way these languages come into being 
depends entirely on the soc ial circumstances of 
their speakers' history. In most language-learn- 
ing situations, a c li i lcl is born into an already- 
existing speech community in which parents and 
other adults speak an already-existing language 
and provide models for that child to learn from. 
11 sue h a stable speech community does not exist, 
but instead the community consists ol speakei s 
ol man) languages, then no target language 
exists for the e hild to imitate, and no community 
of model speakers ol a single language is avail- 
able to help the e hild learn. Instead, ae e ording 
to one theory, the infant will draw upon e ertain 
innate stnu tures — perhaps part ol a genetically- 
determined "language ability" — and upon the 
eclectic pool ol lexical and other linguistic male- 
rial present in the multilingual community. 

Such multilingual communities may result 
from persons ol differing linguistic backgrounds 
coming together and having to com mimic ate. 
sue h as in ai inv ot police barracks in some parts 
of the world; but these will not always become 
communities into which children are born. Lan- 
guages used among adults in such circumstanc es 
may never be spoken .is a c hild's first language. 
Languages emerging in this way are usually 
called pidgins in the analytic literature; they may 
cease- to exist once their usefulness ends. 

Ian Hancock is Professoi of Linguistics anil English nl the I 'niversity <>/ Texas nl Austin. Ih\ majoi work has been with theEng- 
lisli related mules and Romani. I h\ pioneering work in Brackettville, Texas, brought in light the fact thai the Seminole Maroons oj 
ilus community have maintained n distinct language, Afro-Seminole Creole, closely related in Gullah. He earned Ins Ph.D. from the 
Si Iii ml <>/ Oriental ami African Studies nl l lie ( 'niversity oj London. 


Comparison of a Sentence in Several Maroon 


and other Creoles 

This chart shows: 1) similarities of vocabulary; 2) similarities in syntax (word o 

-der); 3) the 

"deeper" (less European) quality of Maroon versus non-Maroon 

Creole languages 


ish Sentence: 


(I)i the following Creole In 

iguages, this sentence is expressed with a different construction than 

n English; in 

the creoks, it is rendered as "she took pestle [mortar-stick] mash com ") 


she market] 

take mortar-stick 



Saramaccan * 

a bi 

tei tati 




a be 

teke mata tiki 

ma si 


Aluku (Boni)* 

a be 

teki mata tiki 




Maroon Creole * 

o min 

teka maata tiki 




ini ben 

tek maata tik 




i bin 

tek pesl fo 




(Sierra Leone) 

i bin 

tek mata tik 



Palenquero* f 

eli a 

kohe pilo pa 



*Languages marked b\ 

asterisk are Maroon 


fVocabularv derived ii 

nm Spanish rather th 

in English 

(adapted from Ham o< 

k. 1987) 

Upper Guinea Coast English: A Source of 
Western Hemisphere Creoles 

During the early years of European contact 
on the Upper Guinea Coast of West Africa, local 
and highly distinctive (though not creolized) 
varieties of Portuguese, English, French and 
Dutch seem to have developed. They were spo- 
ken between European settlers and their African 
wives and fellow residents. There is evidence that 
Upper Guinea Coast English came to be used as 
a lingua franca among the African porters, or 
grumettos, who worked for Europeans and Afro- 
Europeans. We have records of slaves who say 
that they learned "English" in the slaving depots 
on the West African coast while awaiting trans- 
portation, and on the ships coming west. But the 
"English" they learned was in fact an already 
blended Guinea Coast dialect. It was spoken as a 
second language and learned by the grumettos 
as adults from their employers, many of whom 
spoke it as a first language. The eclectic linguistic 
mix of Africans in the barracoons awaiting ship- 

ment provided the linguistic environment suit- 
able for the emergence of a pidgin. The vocabu- 
lary of the Coast English, at least as it was utilized 
by the grumettos, was available to the slaves, 
though conditions for learning the whole lan- 
guage were not. 

When Africans arrived in American slave 
markets, they were sold as individuals, not in 
family or colingual (same-language-speaking) 
lots. The new communities they subsequentlv 
joined throughout the British territories — in 
North, South or Central America or on the dif- 
ferent Caribbean islands — were made up of 
individuals like themselves who had no choice 
but to continue to use what they had learned if 
they wanted to be able to communicate. When 
their children were born into these polyglot 
communities, this still-emerging lingua franca 
based on Upper Guinea Coast English provided 
their language model. During the early period, 
however, the infant mortality rate was very high, 
and only the steady influx of new adult slaves 


ensured that the < ommunities did not die out. 
Nevertheless, within the first two or three 
decades in each community, the linguistic situa- 
tion had more or less stabilized, and with the < es- 
sation of the slave trade, the original African lan- 
guages began to disappear. 

Not entirel) . however. In Maroon e om in uni- 
ties espe< i.illv . remnants ol Aft ie an languages 
dating from the earlier period continue to be 
used in i itual e ontexts. 

Maroon Languages - "Deep" Creoles 

Because of their social and geographical iso- 
lation, most Maroon languages are distinctl) con- 
servative when Kim pared with other < i roles. 
While they are Creoles, they are less like the lan- 
guages from which the) took most of their vocab- 
ularies — English. French. Dutch, etc . — than 
mom Maroon c i coles. Some speakers refet to the 
relative difference or distance between Creole 
and its metropolitan counterpart .is being more 

or less "deep." and Mar 1 Creole languages 

tend to he- deepei than those spoken h\ non- 
Maroon populations. This is true not onl) 
because ol the larget African component of their 
lexicon, but also because of their phonolog) and 
grammai . 

In c 1 eole-speaking communities where the 
lexie ally-related metropolitan language- is also 
spoken — which is the case in most places — 
eac h is exposed to the other, and there is ( (in- 
stall t influence upon the Creole from the colo- 
nial language. More so than the reverse, since 
most speakers aim for < ompetenc e in the < if lie ial 
language, and 111,11 intentionally modify their 
( reole in that direction. In such places, we can- 
not really speak i >l a single, distinct 1 1 cole at all, 
but ol a < ontinuum, or spectrum, oi varieties 
that ranges from deep to those with in< leased 
interference from the colonial European lan- 
guage. In some places, this contai t seems to have 
resulted in the gradual extinction of the Creole, 
for example in parts of the Spanish-speaking 
Caribbean, where we have records, but no con- 
temporary evidence ol, a Creole called "1 labia 

But a ( 1 cole Spanish does survive in the 
Maroon community of San Basilio de Palenque 
in the region ol ( lartagena. ( lolombia. Likewise, 
some of the "deepest" Black English in the Unit- 
ed States is s|k iken in those parts ol Louisiana 
which in earliet centuries were home to North 
American Maroon communities. 

The |amai( an Maroons also remember their 
own (i eole, wlm h is now used only to communi- 

cate with ancestral spirits, but which was proba- 
bly their everyday speech until the early pari ol 
this century, famaican Maroon Creole is 
extremely conservative in its English component, 
which comes so close- to that of the Creoles oi 
Suriname as to suggest strongly an actual histori- 
cal connec tic m with them. The same Man m in 
populations have also retained some African 
speee h as well, particularly Ashanti. spoken in 
the region ol modern-day Ghana. Examples ol 
Jamaif an Mai 001 1 forms that have parallels in 
Suriname but not in general famaican Creole 
include the "be" verb na (which is a or //// in 
famaican Creole), the- particle sa used with verbs 
to indie ale future tense- (and which is wi or tpim/n 
in Jamaican Creole) and ((/(//meaning "what" 
(Jamaican Creole has wa or wator ward). 

The speee h ol the Afro-Seminoles is similarly 
c onservative when e ompared with its immediate 
historical relative, the- Gullah or Sea Islands Cre- 
ole spoken along the Carolina and Georgia 
e oast. Negation in Sea Island Creole with no is 
now extremeh rare, having been replaced with 
///// '01 ilmi ', but it is general in Seminole, e.g.. //// 
no \1dd1 urn, "1 didn't hear her." Siinilarlv . the 
common e reole grammatical marker lor pluraliz- 
ing nouns, i.e.. by placing the word dem after 
them, has pi ,u tie all) disappeared from Sea 
Islands ( !reole, but again, is normal lor Semi- 
nole: /■//// hunnuh bin hunk di stick dem ? "Didn't 

Mill bi eak the- stie ksr" 

Although the 1 01 malized studv ol ( reolized 
language is well over a century old, it is onl) in 
the present day that linguists have e nine to real- 
ize its importance in 0111 attempts to understand 
I he pun esses i il language genesis and ,K :quisi- 
tion. We have also widened the scope of Creole 
Studies to a< knowledge that other features oi 
si k iet) besides language are subjee I to e 1 eoli/a- 
tion, and we look now to this aspec I in the- emer- 
gent e ol new c iiltiues, cuisines, musie s and iden- 
tities, espc-e ially within the various Maroon so< i- 
eties, in the post-colonial world. 

Fit) Ih 1) Readings 

Hancoc k, 1. 111. 1987. A Preliminary ( lassifie ation ol 
the Anglophone Atlantic Creoles. In Pidgins and 
Creoles, Glenn Gilbert. Honolulu: Universit) ol 

1 law. 111 l'i ess. 

Holm, John. 1989. Pidgins and Creoles. Cambridge: 
( ambi idge Univei siiv Pi ess. 

R( mi. line. Suzanne. 1988. Pidgin and Creole Languages. 
l.iiuiliin .mil New York: Longman. 

Todd, liiicio. 1984. Modem Englishes: Pidgins and Cre- 
oles 1 )xford: basil Blackwell. 



Colonel C.L.G. Harris 

When the famous navigator, Christopher Columbus, 
reached Jamaica on May 4, 1494, he found Arawak Indi- 
ans there — gentle, peaceful aborigines. These people- 
were put to unaccustomed hard work and this resulted in 
a dramatic decrease in their numbers. At this point a 
plea was made on their behalf by Bartholome de las Casas 
who asked the Spanish authorities to replace them with 
African workers who, he claimed, were better suited for 
such strenuous labor. What "the Apostle oi the Indians" 
failed to understand was that slavery was .in evil irrespec- 
tive of the tribe or nation involved. His .u\\ u e was accept- 
ed, and soon men and women were wrenched from their 
homeland in West Africa to become slaves in [amaica. 

On May 10. 1655, a British military force undei 
Admiral Penn and Ceneral \ 'enables landed in [amaica 
and captured it. At the end of the ai tion the 
bondsmen took themselves to the mountains, where they 
made their pledge never to be slaves again — a pledge 
destined to remain secure in a sanctum oi inviolability — 
and soon war between them and the British became 
inevitable. After more than 80 years oi warfare, the) were 
approached by the British on a mission oi peace. And so 
in 1739, a peace treaty was drawn up. Bv virtue of the 
treaty, they received among other benefits tax-live lands 
in different parts of the island where succeeding genera- 
tions have since lived continuously. These are the 
Maroons of [amaica. 

The Moore Town Maroons arc c onsiclered special in 
comparison with their counterpai ts in other sci tions ol 
[amaica, and the following are some reasons for this, not 
nec.css.tnlv in order ol t licit importance. 1 I The acreage 
of land thev own exceeds by far that of am other sin h 
community. 2) The Maroon language. Kromanti — an 
equivalent of the Asante Twi of Ghana — is better known 
among them than in the other communities. 3) Their 
wizardry with the ambush — the < amouflage i reated b\ 
Grandy Nanny and her warriors — is to tins da) a c oncept 
unattainable bv others. 4) In the manufacture of their 
drums, only material actually grown in their territory is 
used — apart from the goatskin, on oc( asion. 5) Theit 
Kromanti Dance is one of inherent seriousness; it is nevei 
frivolous, even when done for the sole purpose ol enter- 
tainment. IS) No colonel or chief (these terms are inter- 
c hangeable) of Moore Town has ever sought the ollice — 
each has been taken unawares when asked to accept the 
position; on even occasion there has been election b) 
acclamation. 7) From almost every sec tor oi the world 
messages extolling their warm hospiialiiv arc < onstantlv 
being received bv the Maroons ol Moore Town. 8) The 
community of Moore Town was founded b\ the legendar) 
Grandy Nanny, now ajamak .<\\ National Hero — the 
greatest Maroon leader ever to set fool on [amaican soil 

— horn whom descended the most notable line ol fami- 
lies in its population. 

Often in interviews the question has been asked of 
me, "What does it mean to you to be a Maroon today?" 
When it is considered that Grandy Nanny, Kojo, Accom- 
pong and others of our leaders prevailed against the 
forces of a kingdom that ruled more than a quarter ol all 
the lands on earth, then the pride of their Maroon pos- 
terity can be understood and appreciated. Yet these phys- 
ical \ic toi ics gave use to other victories of deep moral, 
ps\c hologic al and spiritual significance which increased 
that pride and its c oncomitant thankfulness a hundred- 
fold. If the Maroons had been defeated, meaningful 
black resistance to the indignity and cruelty of African 
slaver) would have ended — at least for a season — and 
so even toda\ the' c i ics of the tortured might still have 
been heard on the plantations, in the dungeons and from 
myriad village squat es ac n >ss the world. The knowledge 
that the Mother ol m\ lathers, from her base in little 
Jamaica, bin si asunder the prison bars of black bondage 
means more to me than life itself. It is like a sacrament 
taken daily as I kneel in humility at the feet of Nyanko- 
pon (The Creator) in the peaceful evening hour. Nyame 
adorn (Thank God), I would not change my Maroon I let- 
itage for occupanc) of the White House nor the grandeur 
of the British Tin one. 

It is most important to understand that these people 
brought language, culture and extra-sensory attributes 
from Mothei Africasome five centuries ago which survived 
the vicissitudes ol existent e in what was once a 'strange 
land' — an inhospitable environment — and they are dedi- 
cated to the preservation of all that is best in then past 
And though extremely pool in terms of dollars and cents 
they refuse to be mendicants or ciphers in a ruthless 
political game. Thus our vast potential for the greater 
good of humanity awaits the coming day when some wise, 
dec cut gentleman or lady will join us in developing our 
assets to Ins or hei benefit and ours. 

The Maroon Story — .in odyssey of courage and 
endurance — is sublimely inspirational in testifying to the 
fact that moil. ils may, b) lixit\ oi purpose, strength of 
c barac ter, and constancy of faith, rise from the purely 
physical plane where- circumscription is dominant, to the 
\et unexplored heights ol the spiritual, where the hori- 
zons are illimitable; where wonders are wrought; where 
there is communion and fellowship with the souls ol 
departed heroes, and angels minister to the needs ol 
men; whence the- armies of Bondage are broken and 
overcome, this inspiration reflects eternal sunshine on 
the faces of nun and women kneeling at the feet of The 
Infinite as thev prepare' to olio their lives, if necessary, 
tor that freedom without which life is death. 

C. L.G. Harris has been Colonel <</ the Moore Town Maroons since 1964 and for many years also served as l J miti/itil «/ the Ul-Age 
School in Moore Town. The author oj u iiunibri oj books and articles on the /a wan mi Maroon heritage, he is also a poet whose 
work lias appeared in The Daily (.leaner mul a number oj other publications. 



Colonel M.L. Wright 

rhe name Maroon refers to groups ol people who 
resisted Spanish and English slaver) — the) defeated the 
English and gained freedom from being enslaved an) 
longei . 

I oilax you'll find the- Ma i settlemenl ol \i < < >m- 

pong perched high up in the mountains ol St. Elizabeth 
in western [amaica, bordei ing the westei n parishes of St. 
[ames and Trelawny. This Male is a nation within the 
nation oi the island ol |amaica. Its citizens are descen- 
dants ol I on mi i unawa) slaves who fled the slave planta- 
tions ol [amaica to form their own communities, rhe; 
live on lands granted under a treat) and continue to prai - 
in i- and enjo) the traditional > ustoms handed down to 
them b) theii African guerilla forefathers. Accompong 
was a supph base foi the Maroons during theii wai foi 
freedom against the British from 1655 until die signing "I 
the Peace 1 1 eat) between both parties on March 1st, 
1739. rhe hero of Ac< ompong was Kojo, who led its 
armies during those wai years and nevei losi a battle. 
Since |anuan 6, 1738 when Kojo routed the British arm) 
mm\ slaughtered every member within it except one, 
Accompong has never again had a battle on its soil. Hi' 
requested this one remaining English general to lake a 
message to the then governor Edward I ulawm dial the 
British should send more soldiers, as the Maroons wei e 
read) to repeat theii Feat, rhere have been no murdi is 
in di is c i nn 111 in i in For hundreds of years since. 

rhe people oi Accompong are law-abiding mu\ n usi- 
woriln I In ii sci ret name for themselves means "Might) 
Friend," and indeed a Maroon is the besl friend one can 
have. 1 he land ol the settlemenl is communall) owned. 
A deep sense ol belonging to a famih prevails in this 
town. Life expectanc) is high. \n unsuall) high numbei 
live io In- over loo years old. Man) Ai > ompong M. noons 
live vigorous lives into old age and perform gruelling 
dam es ai festivals dial would phase the youngsters ol 
othei i ommunities. 

rhe Colonel is the Chief Leadei ol the town, elec ted 
even five years b) a poll b) ballots. I fe is assisted b) a 
i oniK il ol 32 members, nun and women, appointed b) 

1 Ik- town's greatest event is die festival held even 
|anuan to celebrate Kojo's Victor)' over the British that 
led to the I reaty. rhis celebration is planned to coint ide 
wiih Kojo's birthda) and emphasizes Kojo's remarkable 
leadership and the sat rifice he made fighting foi Ins peo- 
ple loi so main long, drean vears in i his wild, i ugged 
( .o< kpil ( lountry. 

1 1 mi is. i mis ol people from .ill walks of life, 
[amaicans and foreigners visit the town on the da) ol the 
celebrations, rhe celebration begins at approximatel) 10 
a.m. with the sound ol the abeng, the side-blown horn, the 
Maroon Wai Horn which has been in use in [amait a lor 
over three centuries. This instrument is made from i ow 
horn and at full blast can be heard clearly over a distance 
of approximatel) 15 kilometers, rhe horn was used to 
< ommunii ale messages between Maroon communities. Ii 

i alls Mai is io assembl) and lo c ontribute to Maroon 

funerals. Ii played and siill plays a major role in main 
othei Mai oon i del ii. u ions. I he abeng message is incom- 
|n eliensihle io non- Maroons. Throughout celebration 
da) there is nun h feasting, selling of various types ol 
goods and telling of folk tales and history. The highlight 
ol die festivit) is die i eenai 1 1 ne ill ol die war dames and 
Treat) Songs ol the Accompong Maroons. 

M.i ivs in loi ii ii-i limes were skilled in linsh medi- 

i im . and even toda) some use the different (hush) herbs 
oi the land foi medicinal pin poses. The roots and hark 

ol ii ees are also used to make Ma n drinks, which are 

alwavs available at a moderate cost to visitors. 

\losi Ma is still honoi and respect theii Heritage 

1 reat) ,mi\ i ustoms. However, a small minority ol male 
\ out lis are desirous thai these should cease and that the 
Accompong Maroons should now forfeit these privileges 
and ( iisioms and he totall) merged into the tax-paying 
population ol |amai< a. Sin h a suggestion will always be 
deleated In well-thinking Maroons for it would dash to 
nought what pasi Maroon warriors — men. women and 
e\en ( In Id i en — i isked then lives so desperatel) and 
arduoush to obtain. Hie Maroons ol toda\ are still unit- 
ed in spite of minoi differences and setbai ks among 

some ol i hem al nines. All Mai \ illages are united 

ami \owed nexei to serve the British Monan hy. Howev- 
er, the Accompong Maroons have pledged to always pay 
due respect to each succeeding famaican government. 

People ol good behavioi are always welcomed to 
Vccompong rhe village has a tourist entertaining booth, 
and tourists, schoolchildren in hum- and small groups 
and othei |amaicans visit Accompong dail) to heat the 
histon ol the past, to learn about the present and to see 
and know the Maroons themselves, for a lot ol foolish say- 
ings go around |amaica about the Maroons, even m this 
time close to the 21st century. To learn more about the 

M; is and their customs, visit Accompong on Kojo's 

Dav, lanuan 6th, 1993, and see lm yourself. 

Mn ill ii In Ilia Wright, bade) ol the Accompong Town Maroons, has held the office oj Colonel foi several icons. He also works as a 
/iiiinci and is Deacon oj the Church oj God International in Accompong Town. As Colonel, he has actively promoted the Maroon 
cultural heritage »/ Accompong Town. 



Transcribed and Translated from Aluku by Kenneth Bilby 

[Recorded at Studio T.R.M. in Maripasoula, French Guiana, at the 
request of Festival curators, and forwarded to Washington, D.C.] 

I send conlial greetings i<> you [Ken Bilby] — 
and, respectfully and humbly, to the entire United 
States. I also send greetings to the President of the 
United States and all his under-officers. 

Today vou sent a message and asked who will gov- 
ern the Aluku territory as a leader — who will be the 
new Paramount Chief to govern the territory. Well, 
one can't go and claim such a post oneself. But the 
entire Aluku people have set their sights on a person 
they believe should speak for them today as their 
leader. This person is Brother Adochini; he is the one 
whom they have chosen as a leader. It is he who will 
ln-come the Paramount Chiei and oversee this territory. 

So 1 am the one who will respond to what you 
asked about. 

You asked what system oi government the Aluku 
people have, and how I am thinking about administer- 
ing the Aluku government. I am hoping to govern 
well, with the cooperation ol all the people. For an 
individual cannot govern by himself. II .1 paramount 
chief is installed, then he has the village chiefs and 
under-officers behind him. The people ol a territor) 
in general — those who are not chiefs — also < ooper- 
ate with him in working on behalf ol the e ommunity 
to ensure that it does not break apart and cease to 

Well, today, this is the wav I'm thinking about 
governing the territory: I would like to govern it as 111 
the old days. I would like to govern it the way Gaan- 
nian Difu [Paramount Chief of the Aluku from 1937- 
1965] did. It is his type of government that I want. I 
would like to govern in his manner. I will call on 
God's help so that I may govern in that way. For 1 am 
not as knowledgeable as the elders before me. 

I am about to become the 13th Paramount Chief. 
I believe, to occupv this office and govern the Aluku 
people since we made peace, and since we entered the 
forest. Therefore it will be a strong government, 
because it contains the strength of tin »se 1 .'>. So I 
would like to administer the government honorably, 
so that it may continue to be respected. 

I send thanks to vou lor asking me m\ thoughts 

about the visit ol the Aluku people who will be coming 
to the United States. This is what I want them to go 
and see: I want them to go and see how Americans 
live. I want (hem to go and see how the people over 
there live — how, even though there are so many of 
them, they understand each other. I would like them 
to go and see what your traditions over there are like. 
I w< mid like them n 1 gi > and see your ancestral her- 
itage, ovei then' where vou have enshrined it — so 
they ma) < ome bac k with that kind ol respei t: so the\ 
will know that the things ol the ancestors are valuable; 
so we mav attend to the things of our own ancestors 
on< e again, and ( arry them forward. That is one ol 
my thoughts regarding the visit of the people to the 
United Stales that you asked me about. 

It pleased me too, that you asked me my 
thoughts. I wouldn't like it if my people were to learn 
the American way ol life, when they go over thei e, in 
ordei to bring it bac k here; because we will never turn 
into Americans. I want them to go, and then to return 
as Boni people, so that it may be said that a Boni per- 
son has gone to the United States to observe how 
Americans live, just as an American can come to the 
Boni territor) and observe how Boni people live. Not 
would I like it it an American were to come to my ter- 
ritory, bringing his wav ol life and offering it to me, 
while ing ill. 11 the traditions of the Aluku people 
should disappear. In the same wav. now that nn peo- 
ple- are going over there. I want litem to go with this 
very same understanding. 

The thing that Aluku people have, and use to sur- 
vive — their source ol strength — is [our religious tra- 
dition of] kumanti. It was with the powers of kumanti 
that my people left the coast and became rulers ol the 
Maroni River. I will never abandon that tradition. 

I will not abandon the- old dances of my people — 
songe, awasa, mato, susa. I won't forget them. I was 
born with those traditions. I will dance your dances. 
But when I perform my own — that is my tradition. 
Never will I abandon it. 

[ send thanks to you. 1 send greetings to the- Pres- 
ident ol the United Slates, with the message that the 
Aluku people are siill alive. The Boni people are still 
alive-. We're siill here. 

Gaanman Joachim-Joseph Adochini is the newly-appointed Paramount Chief »/ the Aluku Maroons of French Guiana. Aftei years 
ill service en an elected official in the French Guianese government, lie left French party politit \ in 1 992 In lake 11/1 the highest post m 
the Aluku government. 



Transcribed and Translated /row Ndjuka by Kenneth Bilby 

So, rhe person speaking here today, on the 

L'lith of Man h. is ( ..unman ( -a/on Matodja of 
Diitabiki. Today he will speak to the people ol the 
I nited Stales. Well, I ( an de< lair to the people ol 
the United States that the person who <>i ( upied 
ilns post before me was Gaanman Akoontu Velanti 
ol Diitabiki. Ii was his office, and now I am sitting 
in his place to carry on the work. By m\ count, tins 
elder, Gaanman Akoontu Velanti, occupied tins 
office for II years before he passed away. When 
I iaanman Akoontu Velanti died, 1 took over Ins 
office io keep his plai e lot him. I have been in tins 
office, I believe, fot 26 years. So I state. 

Well, 1 oversee tin- area from the Cottica River 
all the wav to Gaan Boli. We tall it the Iapanaho- 
nv. The Tapanahonv River is the Ndjuka River. All 
the people within this region ate under my authori- 
ty, from the- Cottica River, through to the Com- 
mewijne Rivei . continuing along the rivei . all the 
wav to Gaan Boli. Those are the people who oper- 
ate under my authority. We call this rivei the 
Iapanahoin . Those going b\ the name Aukanei 
(( )kanisi) people, Tapanahony Aukanei people — 
they are under Gaanman Gazon's authority. 

The wav paramount c hiefs governed in the past 
used io he different. The < hiefs and under-offi< ers 
in this region received no pa) in the past, lint the) 
and the paramount c liiel stood together. Whenev- 
ei anything happened in the area, the paramount 
chief would put them in charge. If somebody was 
stealing, die person might he whipped. And if 
someone wronged someone else, the person might 
he whipped. When a transgression occurred, the 
i hiefs and imdei -< >lfi< ers would throw their support 
behind the pat amount chief. The) used lo work 
hard, wit lion i pay, i hose chiefs and under-offi( ers 
of the area — the) were the government oi the 
t egii hi. 

But nowadays, although the Kabiteni (village 
i hiefs) who are put in office and the Basia (under- 
officers) take ( are ol their own villages — when von 
lake a good look — you see i hat their work is no 
longer done as ii used to he in the past. Their work 
no longei gets done prei isel) as it should. In othei 

words, things in rm territory no longei work as well 
as I would like. 

In the past, when someone had a disagreement 
wnh someone else in the Ndjuka area — lei's sav 
they fought — then the) would light with their lists 
The) would light with their lists. Then' were cer- 
tain matiets that 1 as Gaanman (Paramount Chief) 
would concern nivsell with directly. But if 1 sent 
the Kabiteni and the Basia, then the) would go and 
debate the i ase [in the eon text of a kuutu, a council 
meeting | . Whoever was in l lit- right, thev would 
dec ide in his lavot : whoevei was in the wrong, thev 
would de< ide against him. 

And il someone went too far, fighting another 
pet son will i his lists in a wav dial wasn'l t ight — il 
he I ought at night, oi fought in the water — then 
the) would impose a penaltv on him: perhaps he'd 
have to dig out a large boat, Ol he'd have to i leai a 
garden in virgin forest, or he'd have to pav a tine ol 
one demijohn worth ol rum. That's how our law 
used to he, here in the forest. 

But now, lor those horn in rei enl times, life 
has (hanged totally. I he) are adopting the eitv wav 
ol life. When people have a disagreement nowa- 
days, then the) grab a mat hete or a knife. They've 
adopted die wavs ol Paramaribo | the capital of 
Sin manic |. But thai was not the wav in die forest. 

rhis shocks us... taking a gun to shoot someone 


So all these things, the) never used to exist in 
the forest. It's something new that I've encoun- 
tered in tin work, whi< h I don't like. Bin one i an 
do nothing about ii bv oneself. When those kinds 
ol things happen, the) are matters foi the police. 
The pohi e must handle those things. I i ant take 
care of those things by myself. 

I he Kabiteni <>l toda) no longer have the 
strength ol those who used to govern in the past. 
Thev 're ah aid oi the public. The public is stronger 
than thev are. 

Okay, we'll stop there. I'll sav no more for 
now. Whal remains to be said we will hear about 
later. Okav. 

( ,11/11111111)1 Gazon Matodja has been Paramount Chiej oj the Ndjuka Maroons nj Surinam? since / l '6C), In 1970, as /mil <</ an offi 
rial delegation oj Surinamese Maroon Paramount Chiefs, he became one oj the first Surinamese Maroons to visit Africa. His atten- 
dance hi ilns \riii \ Festival will be lu\ sit mid visit in the I nited States. 



Transcribed and Translated from Saramaccan by Richard Price 

[Recorded at the request of Festival minims, forwarded by I I.R.M. 
I ibretto, District Commissioner o] the Sipaliwini District, Suriname, 
and transcribed from tape cassette. / 

So, Commissioner [Libretto], here I am 
again. I greet yon. Well, I received your taped 
message. It's because of that taped message that 
I am speaking here, and it said I shouldn't talk 
too long. Just a very brief speech. 

Well, my name is Songo. My name is Songo. 
I was made paramount chief on 19 December 
1990 in the forest realm. Then they took me to 
the cits' to receive official [Suriname govern- 
ment] recognition on 15 April 1991. My tribe is 
Saramaka. Mv clan is Matjau. 

The earliest paramount chiefs received trib- 
ute [from the colonists], along with a little cash 
bonus they put into their hands. They main- 
tained contact with the city government, but in 
those clavs travel was by paddle canoe. And then, 
after a long time, paddle canoes were replaced 
by motor canoes in the days of Paramount Chiei 
Aboikoni [Songo's predecessoi |. Chiei Aboikoni 
traveled by outboard and large motor canoe, but 
he also went by airplane. By the time you get to 
Paramount Chief Songo's reign, things have 
surely changed! 

With all these changes, we now travel by 
plane, or even [part way] by car, to get to the 
cits'. Well, the epoch you're born into, that's the 
one you have to deal with. The thing is, people 
say the whole world's changing, and the moment 
in which I find myself, that's the one I have to 
deal with. 

But the responsibilities of the paramount 
chief do not change. The work that was left by 
Chief Aboikoni for Chief Songo to finish, that's 
what he is engaged in now. Well, there's noth- 
ing that I myself cause to change; if things 
change course, that's just the way it happens. 
This is the message I have for you. 

The first paramount chief to go to the land 
of the whites was Chief Aboikoni. who went to 

Europe. He was a member of the Matjau clan! 
He went to Africa. He was a Matjau! He went in 
the course of his duties. Then I came along and 
they gave me the chieftaincy, and now they are 
talking about the same kinds of duties again. 

A message has come that I must go to the 
United States. Well, we don't know what they are 
taking us there to do. It's only once we're there 
that we'll really find out. But I have no duty high- 
er than upholding the office of paramount chiei 
to pass on to those younger folks who will be 
coming along later. 

Now, I will say a prayer the way our ancestors 
did. Here in the forest realm, after an elder has 
participated in a council meeting, when he's 
ready to get up at the end, he'll spread the word 
to everyone and everywhere by saying a prayer. 
So, I'll say a prayer for the world in the tradition 
of the Matjau clan. 

This isn't an evil prayer! This prayer is good. 
This prayer makes children grow, makes them 
get big. just the way the night and the day both 
make things grow. Because the night and the day 
are fertile. God created them to make things 
grow, to make the earth be fruitful. That's what 
this prayer says [in esoteric language]. That's 
what it is about. 

It says, "Ahunkwddja. Ahunkwddja. 
Ahunkwddja. Awdngamddesusu. Awdngamddesusu. " 
That's what this prayer says, speaking to all 
human beings, to the animals, to the birds and 
to the fish. So that they may multiply on this 
earth, so that people may live until they are old, 
max the Great God take good care of his family! 

We'll stop here. We'll end our speech here. 
We'll end our prayer here. That's it. Commis- 
sioner. I have spoken. 

[The esoteric formula in Chief Songo's 
prayer refers to an 1 8th century incident that 
took plan' soon after his enslaved ancestors 
rebelled and escaped to freedom in the fousis 
— see Richard Price, First-Time, pp. 58-59.] 

Gaamd Songo was recently installed as Paramount Chiej »/ the Saramaka Maroons "/ Suriname, following the death nj forme) 
Paramount Chief Aboikoni in 1989. He keeps Ins headquarters m Asindoopo on the Pikilio River, the traditional residence <</ the 
Sinnmtikii Gaamd. 



Gabino Hernandez Palomino 
It anslated from Spanish by Hector Antonio ( lorporan 

The struggle for freedom was an historic al 
constant among Black people; the history of the 
( Colombian national struggle for freedom drew 
inspiration from Black people's efforts to gain 
liberty. To meet their obje( tive, African slaves 
enac led different forms of resistance, such as 
going on hunger strikes, jumping overboard 
from slave ships on the voyage to the Americ as, 
committing suicide and inlantit ide. poisoning 

Spaniards, running awav I i plantations and 

into the forests and directly confronting 
i olonists. 

The word "maroon" applied to rebel slaves 
denotes being wild, autonomous, independent. 
The Mat oon stt uggle t reated the first free com- 
munity of BIa< k people in South America in 
1713: Palenque de San Basilio in tin- province oi 
Bolivar, Colombia. 

Palenque de San Basilio is the result oi a 
most remarkable insurrectional") movement oi 
slaves in Colombia. Under the leadership ol 
Benkos Bioho, ex-monarch ol an African state, 
:'i7 men anil women banded together to form a 
liberation movement. Successful raids on planta- 
tions for food and supplies e on it i bitted to the 
gt i iwth of theii Maroon army. [Y> safeguard then 
palenque, or palisaded village, Maroons devel- 
oped strategies foi defending against attai k, 
communicating, keeping wati h, obtaining provi- 
sions and wearing down the enemy. 

In one ol the man) battles against the Span- 
ish army, the Maroons took as hostage Ft ancisco 
de Campos, second-in-command ol the expedi- 
tion, ["his act I ot< ed the Spanish a lit hoi i ties to 
seek an "amicable settlement." In a Charter ol 
Pardon ratified in 1713, the King ol Spain grant- 
ed the M. noons then absolute liberty and the 
ownership ol a spec i lie territory. I lere they creat- 
ed a culture, an economy and a soc ial stria lute. 

Gabino Hernandez Palomino is western region coordinato) 
/in Ksociacion Cimarron inn organization concerned with 
\ln> Colombian issues) in ( 'olombia. He hnhU n l/tw degree 
from lln I niversidad Libre in Cali. I It is the autho) nf 
"Black People's Participation m the Formation id Colombian 
Society, "published by Heraldo magazine in Barranquilla 
and he writes regularly foi Palenque, the official publication 
of Asociacion Cimarron in Medelli'n. 

Their language continues to be spoken to this 

The Maroons' struggle lor freedom pointed 
the wav lor Colombia in its struggle to gain inde- 
pendence from the Spaniards. Neither the Indi- 
an revolt against landowners towards the end of 
the 18th century, nor the independence move- 
ment led by Simon Bolivar, can be understood 
without knowing the history ol Palenque de San 

Today Palenque de San Basilio has approxi- 
mately 3,00(1 inhabitants. Most men raise cattle 
.mil c ultivate the land; women market sweets, 
bollos (a tamale-like suae k with c ornmeal tilling), 
and prod uc Is hat vested bv the men such as c assa- 
va. c orn, rice, yams, plantains and other fruits 
and vegetables. 

The community's formal educational system 
c on si sis ol a sec ondarv sc hool and an elementary 
si hool that operates without a government bud- 
get. Its health needs are adch essed bv a small 
c enter managed by a medical .tide and visited 
c me e a week by a doc tor. 

At present, Palenque de San Basilio is expe- 
riencing a crisis, lis standard ol living is deterio- 
rating, and 1'alenc i ueros lack sufficient land for 
cultivation. Man) ol the programs implemented 
bv government and non-government organiza- 
tions aim at resolving onlv immediate needs, or 
they are the result ol inadequate plans which the 
communit) accepts without real understanding 
ol the projects' goals and obje< lives. A poor 
understanding ol our c iiltural values leads out- 
side agent ies to violate our cultural principles. 

Id us land represents hope, the wav ol the 
Inline- and therefore, the wav we can continue to 
exist. To lose the' kind which is our means ol sup- 
pot t and subsistence is to remain in slavery. The 
lack ol land lor e ultivation shuts out the possibili- 
ty ol development and accelerates the migration 
ol veiling people- to c it ies like- ( lai lagena, Barran- 
quilla, Riohae ha and the neighboring e ountr) ol 
Venezuela. In ihese- places Palenquei os seek new 
horizons bin bee ause ol their low educational 
level and economic conditions there, the) end 
up being incorporated into the huge belts ol 
povei tv that exist in ihese- e ities. In the last ten 
years a group of young people has seen the need 


Jose Valdez Simanca and Graciela Salgado Valdez play 
the yamaro and the pechiche. the two drums that are 
typical of most Palenquero musical styles. Photo by 
Lorenzo Miranda Torres 

to develop community goals. These include: 
socio-economic development; ethno-education 
(which has been taking place lor the last three 
years); recovery of our land, culture and history; 
recognition of Palenque de San Basilio as a 
municipality; and acknowledgement of Palenque 
de San Basilio as an important part of mankind's 
historic cultural heritage. 

Despite the difficulties noted, we continue to 
resist bv preserving many of the cultural tradi- 
tions of our ancestors. We speak a language 
derived in part from the Bantu languages of 
Africa, and we also speak Spanish. We are bilin- 
gual. Our own language, in addition to being a 
means of communication, keeps alive the memo- 
ry of our ancestors. 

Mam' older religious rites are preserved, 
such as the lumbalu, which is performed at wakes 

as an expression of the new life awaiting the 
deceased. During the lumbalu performance, 
much use is made of historical musical instru- 
ments like the pechiche and the Uamador (or 
yamaro), drums that can serve as signaling 
devices to send messages about recent events. 
These instruments were once used by the 
Maroons to alert the population about the pres- 
ence of the Spanish army. The music and dance 
preserve many African elements. 

Cuagros are social organizations characteris- 
tic ol independent palenques (Maroon commu- 
nities) in Colombia. One of their activities is to 
teach members the art of self-defense against 
outsiders or members of another cuagro. In this 
connection it is interesting to note that a num- 
ber of great palenque boxers have achieved 
national and international renown. Maroon 
methods of combat were used to confront the 
Spaniards, and they guaranteed that a person 
was well-trained and permanently ready for com- 
bat. The increasing acculturation of many Palen- 
queros has brought the cuagros and other cul- 
tural elements to the verge of extinction. 

The cuagros have been transformed into 
what are known today as juntas, organizations 
whose members are Palenqueros drawn from 
Palenque de San Basilio itself, neighboring 
towns and large regional cities. Juntas have some 
of the same characteristics as cuagros, and each 
one functions independently of any central gov- 
erning body. Palenquero cultural values form a 
fundamental basis both for our culture and for 
the many contributions made by Palenqueros 
towards the development of what could be called 
"Colombian culture." 

Palenqueros and the other Black communi- 
ties of ( Colombia denounce quincentenary com- 
memorations of the so-called "Discovery of 
America." From the unloading of the first Black 
men and women as slaves until today we have 
been victims of human rights violations and 
objects of racial and social discrimination that 
force us to live in conditions of extreme poverty. 

Finally, understanding the objectives ol the 
Festival ol American Folklife, we believe this 
great event should be made an effective tool foi 
reflection. It should be a way of carrying out pro- 
grams about 500 years of w7/ : discoverv and 
should have as its horizon the preservation and 
sti engthening of the practices of traditional cul- 
tures in the Americas. 



Charles Emily Wilson 

( )ur people have lived in Texas for ovei 1 no 
years. Before that, we were in Mexico, where 
some of us still live, and before that we were in 
Oklahoma, and even earlier than that, Florida. 
And before that, we came from Africa. As fai as 
we've tome, in all oui travels, we have never lost 
an awareness of out identity and a pride in our 
freedom, because it is our freedom whi( h makes 
US different from other Amei it .ins of Ah ie an 

In the 17th century oui ancestors fought 
against slavery and escaped into the northei n 
bushlands ol Spanish Floi ida. There we joined 
with oui Indian brothers and sisters who had 
also es< aped from the oppression of (lie Fum- 
pean slavers; together, foi main years, we resist- 
ed theii attempts to recapture us. Together we 
rode against the white man to preserve our free- 
dom, and together we created a Seminole so< iet) 
from both Indian and Ah it .in roots. When we 
had to leave for safer territory in the lS:'>0s to 
es( ape the slave raids in Florida, we went to Indi- 
an Ten it on and settled along the Canadian 

River in what is toda) < )klah a. But slave raids 

continued from nearby states. In oui search lor 
peai e, we left once again and went to Mexico, 
though some of our people staved behind in 
( )klahoma, where their disc endants still live 

In 1870 a few hundred of our am estoi s wet e 
asked to come to Texas to fight the Native Amer- 
icans so that white people ( ould settle in the 
region. Those Seminoles served as St outs foi tin 
U.S. Ai my out of Fort Duncan in Eagle Pass and 
Fort Clark m Bi .u kettville, whet e we live t( (day. 

Although some of us visit our relatives in 
Mexico, at Fl \.u imiento del los Negi os in 
( loahuila State not far from Muzquiz, we lost 
touch with out people in Oklahoma until 1981, 
when some of them visited Brackettville for the 
[uneteenth celebration, (tine l'.tth commemo- 
rates the eman< ipation ol the slaves in Texas, 
and we celebrate it ever) yeat in solidarity with 
our fellow Bla< k Americans, but it is not a part ol 

Seminole history since we were never slaves in 

For more than 200 years we kept our double 
African and Indian heritage alive. Our language 
and our way of life, our songs and dancing, our 
philosophy and our cooking all remind us of our 
distinctive roots. ( )nly since the end of the Sec- 
ond World War have we really begun to lose 
those old ways. I remember when we would 
pound corn in a huge mortar made from a tree 
trunk to prepare siilfki and toli. our special dish- 
es. I remember when everybody around us would 
be speaking Seminole, the children loo. I 
remember the way we used to chess, and the 
kinds ol homes we lived in on the grounds of 
Fort Clark. 

Today there arc- few of us left who know our 
historv and speak our language'. It maybe that 
too much time has already passed to get those 
things back. Some ol the veiling people leave oui 
small community and return to Brae kettville only 
to visit. But perhaps this recognition ol who we 
are and what we have done mav stn in their 
lieai is a sense ol pride and mav move them to 
leai n from us while thev can, and the) mav vet 
pass on our story to their own children. We have 
given out lovaltv and oui skill to our country, 
and we have contributed to its historv. I can rest 
now. knowing that this has been recognized at 
last, and that future sc hoolc hilclren, both Amei i- 
c an and Seminole, will learn about the part we- 
ll ave played in the grouth ol our great nation. 

Kill Mil s i io[r I lie name Seminole is (let ived I mm I lie Span- 
ish word amarron, meaning "fugitives" or "vuM ones." Cimar- 
ron was mosl often used in the Americas in refer to Africans 
who escaped from slavery. II' iwevei . in earlv years the term 
was also applied to enslaved Native Americans who had 
esc aped in in Morn 1. 1 Ami who eventual!) < ame t<> identify 
themselves .is i imanot » >i "Semini ile. In (Ins program, the 
terms Seminole, Black Seminole, Seminole Scouts ( rexas), 
and Seminole Freedmen (in < )klahoma) are .ill used in refer 
to communities o) Afi ic an-Amerie .ins whose ane estors joined 
wiiti Native Amei ii .m Seminole < ommunities I mi win* main- 
tained .i separate identity and language within the largei 
Seminole i ommunities. 

( Inn Irs I >nil\ \\ ihnn n a founding iiiriiihn a ml head nj the Seminole Si mil l\wn ml ion in Brackettville, Texas, I'm more limn 40 
\ears she worked as u srlwolteachei in the Brackettville area. Sim holds a mastei \ degree in bilingual education limn Prairie View 
1 s_- M College. 



The Changing Soundscape 
in Indian Country 

Thomas Venn um, Jr. 

Music and Change 

By its very nature, music is never totally statu ; 
over time, even the most conservative of musical 
traditions have been susceptible to change, how- 
ever slight. In "never to be altered" traditions, 
such as European classical music, which depends 
upon scores precisely notated by their com- 
posers, each performer applies personal nuances 
of technique and interpretation. Thus no two 
performances, say, of a Beethoven piano sonata, 
will ever be exactly identical, even by the same 

Change in music — like that in other kinds of 
cultural performance — is a response to changes 
that may occur in many areas of society, ranging 
from the migration of peoples, to the acceptance 
of a particular religion, to shifts in critical 
notions of "authenticity," to the stylistic innova- 
tions of some creative genius. Music might 
change from within its tradition, if the musicians 
have deliberately altered their performance prac- 
tices, invented new musical instruments, or pur- 
posely affected the style of their music in some 
other way. Change might come from outside the 
tradition through contact with another culture, 
when foreign musical genres are imposed on a 
people (Christian hymns), or when certain traits 
of the foreign idiom (vocal styles) or whole gen- 
res (fiddle dance music) are adopted willingly. 
The folk and tribal musics of the world — in 
practice more conservative than popular musics 
— seem mostly affected by external change. Clas- 
sical traditions, on the other hand, tend to 
exhibit internal changes. Sometimes the change 

may represent a return to earlier practices to 
recover the original intention of the music. In 
the pursuit of more "authentic" performances, 
for example, the musical instruments of 
Europe's past have recently been reconstructed 
according to our historical knowledge of their 
former properties — their exact shapes, sizes 
and materials of manufacture. Museum speci- 
mens of Baroque harpsichords are today careful- 
ly measured and copied so that performers can 
replicate the sounds of that period rather than 
relying on 19th century pianos to produce them, 
as was customary until recently. 

When change occurs in tribal music, the com- 
bination of new and old musical traits results in 
hybrid styles of music. When Indian peoples 
were (sometimes ion ibl\ ) taught to sing Christ- 
ian hymns, missionaries translated the texts into 
the Native tongue. They allowed the hymns to be 
sung in unison (that is. without harmonies) to 
facilitate learning. In so doing they created a 
hybrid form — albeit one that was linguistically 
unchallenging and musically acceptable to 
Native ears accustomed to unison singing of 
Indian melodies. Of primary importance to the 
missionaries were the musical and religious 
meanings expressed in tunes and texts — Euro- 
pean in origin and foreign to Indian cultures. 

These new. Native hymns became a powerful 
tool in attempts to convert Indians to Christiani- 
ty. They were particularly well received by south- 
eastern tribes forcibly removed to Indian Territo- 
ry in the 1830s. In a state of extreme culture 
shock, main of them abandoned traditional life- 

"The Changing Soundscapes in Indian Country, " co-sponsored by the Smithsonian Institution 's National Museum oj the American 
Indian, will result in an exhibition in bepresented in 1994 at the new George Gustav Haye Centei oj the National Museum »/ //// 
American Indian in New York City. Tins program lias hern supported by the government a/ Nicaragua anil a generous grant Irani 
the Minn Performance Trust Funds. 


Above: This set of three hide rattles 
of the Ojibway medicine lodge were 
used by medicine men and medicine 
women to accompany songs in initia- 
tion and curing ceremonies of the 
Grand Medicine Lodge. They were 
collected ca. 1907 on the Red Lake 
Reservation in northern Minnesota. 
Photo courtesy National Anthropo- 
logical Archives, Smithsonian Institu- 

Right: An Ojibway medicine man per- 
forms funeral songs for the deceased 
enroute to interment in northern 
Minnesota. Formerly his rattle would 
have been made of birchbark or hide; 
here a baking powder can has been 
adapted for the purpose. Photo by 
Charles Brill 

ways .11 if I belief systems, taking up the new reli- 
gion and its music to address a spiritual crisis. 
Once in Indian repertoires, however, sonic trans- 
lated European texts were set to traditional 
Native melodies or even new tunes created for 
them bv Indian composers using Indian tonal 
systems. In performing these hymns, Indian peo- 
ple i < ui tin tied to use their own vocal sty le. Their 
i harac teristically flat, nasal delivery with its glis- 
sandi and. to European ears, "imperfect" intona- 
tion contrasted markedly with the European bel 
canto ideal of singing, with its vocal vibrato and 
< lear attack of musical pitches. This hybrid tradi- 
tion of Christian hymn singing in Indian lan- 
guages continues today, especially among the 
Choctaw, Cherokee, Comanche and Kiowa, some 
performed without instrumental accompaniment 
in unison or in two- three- or four-part har- 

urn, Jr. is curator of the Xativt American 
the Festival oj American Folklife. He is 
ologist in tin Center jm Folklife Programs 
d Studies and author o/The Ojibwa Dance 
Drum: lis Histon and ( lonstruction | 1982) and Wild 
1 ijibwa) People 1 1988) 

The Post-Columbian Period 

European exploration and colonization of the 
Western Hemisphere set into motion changes 
that affected every aspect of Indian culture 
including music. Indian exposure to European 
music, especially that of the church, was early. In 
the wake of Cortes's conquest of Mexico in 1519, 
the Spanish made immediate efforts to Christian- 
ize the Native peoples, building countless small 
churches and cathedrals, importing musical 
instruments from Spain to accompan) the Mass, 
and training Indians to sing. As early as 1530 a 
small organ from Seville was installed in the 
Cathedra] of Mexico Citv to accompany Indian 
choirs. Efforts to train Indians to play a variety of 
European instruments for church services appar- 
ently became so excessive that in 1561 Phillip II 
complained in a cedula (royal decree i about the 
mounting costs of supporting the musicians. He 
cited the large number of players of trumpets, 
clarions, chimirias (oboe-like reed instruments), 
flutes, sackbuts and other instruments and 
requested a reduction in the number of Indians 
being paid tor such services. As the Spanish 
moved northward into present-day New Mexico, 
similar practices are recorded. At Hawikuh 


Muscogee Creek Stomp Dancers compete in a powwow in Oklahoma. The woman on the right wears the traditional turtle 
shell rattles bunched around the ankle, the woman on the left the more recent variety of ankle rattle made from milk 
cans. This modern adaptation is preferred by some dancers because the rattles are lighter weight and produce a louder 
sound. Milk can rattles are usually excluded from ceremonial Stomp Dances. Photo courtesy Muscogee (Creek) Nation 

(Zuni), the pueblo used as Coronado's first 
headquarters, in the 1630s a Franciscan was giv- 
ing intensive instruction to Indians in organ, bas- 
soon, cornett, Gregorian chant and counter- 

Indians quickly became proficient in making a 
wide range of instruments. At first they began 
making flutes but went on to construct vihuelas 
(guitars), lutes and even pipe organs, under 
Spanish supervision. It soon became unnecessary 
to import instruments from Spain. In summing 
up the 16th century musical activities of Indians 
in New Spain, Frey Juan cle Torquemada wrote 
in his Monarquia Indiana (Seville 1615): "The 
other instruments which serve for solace or 
delight "ii se< iil.n occasions are all made here b) 
the Indians, who also play them: rebecs, guitars, 
trebles, viols, harps, monochords." 

The English and French were equally active in 
their New World colonies in exposing Indian 
peoples to their musical traditions. Thomas Heri- 
ot in A briefe and true report of the new found land 
(London 1588) wrote of the local Indian chief 
on Roanoke Island, that he "would be glad many 
times to be with vs at praiers, and many times call 
vpon vs both in his owne towne, as also in others 
whither he sometimes accompanied vs, to pray 

and sing in Psalmes." By 1648 John Eliot was 
translating metrical psalms into the language of 
"the praying Indians" at Natick in Massachusetts. 
Hymnals in the Native tongues continued to be 
published throughout the 19th century, particu- 
larly by the American and the Presbyterian 
Boards of Foreign Missions. An Iroquoian hym- 
nal (iaa Nali shoh ( I860) was created for use by 
the Seneca at Cattaraugus Reservation, while a 
Siouan hymnal Dakota Odowan (1879) went 
through several printings. Asher Wright and his 
wife, who collated the Iroquoian hymns, induced 
the Indians to sing them to the accompaniment 
of a melodeon, which had been donated bv a 
Sunday school in Massachusetts. At the Indians' 
insistence (according to the Wrights), they set 
the melodeon up in the middle of the longhouse 

— the traditional Iroquoian religious structure 

— "where by the grateful young people, who 
loved it as a human being, it was gorgeously dec- 
orated with hemlock boughs and a profusion of 
red berries." Some Christianized Indians went on 
to become hymnal collators themselves. Thomas 
Commuck, a Narragansett, published a Meth- 
odist hymnal in 1845 containing tunes claimed 
to be Native in origin and variously attributed to 
famous chiefs (Pontiac, Tecumseh) or such 


Oglala Dakota dancers and musicians pause during a Grass Dance. Indians first encountered marching band drums in the 
military bands on frontier outposts. Photo courtesy National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution 

tribes as the Flathead, < )sage, Algonquin and 
others. In the publication the melodies wei e sel 
to harmonic a< companiment by Thomas I tast- 

^s would be expe< ted, European sec ulai 
music was also brought to the new c olonies, and 
Indians had ample opportunity to heat it. Marin 
Mersenne in his Harmonie universelle . . . (Paris 
I 636) c on Id state that Indians were ah <a<l\ 
singing the songs oi French fur tradei s living 
among them. In 1655 Claude Dablon (b. 1619) 
traveled from Quebec to Iroquois country and 
brought with him several music a! msii uments he- 
had mastered as a youth. Although ii is not 
recorded whi( h instrument he played foi them, 
the Indians are reported to have c rowded the 
missionaries' l>.uk hut to hear Dablon 'make- the 
wood uilk." The trader John Adair, living 40 
years among the southeastern tribes in the late 
18th century, was ac< ustomed to singing such 
hash tunes as Sheela na guria to his Indian 
friends. Song schools sprung up throughout New 
England for itinerant singing masters to tea< h 
in it i inly colonists but also Indians to read music 
and sing in harmony. In the 17(i0s, Eleazai 
Wheeloc k at his Indian Charity School in what is 
now ( lonnecticut taught his Delawai e pupils to 
perform in three-part harmony. These ■ sc hools 
quickly made fluent sight-singers oi the Indians. 
having introduced them to the totally foreign 
c one epts oi music al notation and polyphony, 
wluc Ii contrasted with the oral tradition of uni- 

son singing they were accustomed to. 

\ot all exposure to European music took 
place in the New World, however. Indians were 
brought hac k to Fiance to perform in Parisian 
court entertainments such as Ballet de In Reine 
( 1609), which inc hided pastoral American 
sc enes. Apparently a sensation was c aused when 
a naked Tupinamba Indian was introduced on 
stage in the sc ore oi Ballet de I "Aim mi de ce Temps 
( 1620), <\\\i\ the famous c omposer Lully inc i >i po- 
uted Indian ac tors into several ballets per- 
formed befoi e 1 ,ouis XIV. 

Adaptation and Adoption 

Through long and constant exposure to Euro- 
pean culture, Indian people not onl) absorbed 
foreign vocal repertoires, but sometimes altered 
their music al instruments as well. One oi the 
hallmai ks c >l Native music in the Western I lemi- 
sphere is the almost universal accompaniment oi 
unison singing to pen ussion provided by the 
singers or dancers. Of all percussion, i allies and 
drums have always been the most commonly 
used. ( lontac t with European cultures allee led 
both types oi pen ussion, but in different ways, as 
Indian people adapted material items from the 
foreign c ulture. In the case oi rattles, the gi eat- 
est e hange was in the nature oi the vessel and the 
loose nialei ial inside that struck the e ontainei to 
produce the sound. An example of this kind oi 
change m c in red sometime earl) in the 20th cen- 
tury in the western Great Lakes area. Formerly, 


Red Lake and Ontario Ojib- 
way singers perform with a 
marching band bass drum in 
the back of a pick-up truck in 
a July 4th parade (1969). The 
boxes of soft drinks have 
been donated by local mer- 
chants as part of this reen- 
actment of the traditional 
Ojibway Begging Dance. 
Photo by Charles Brill 

the rattle used in religious ceremonies of the 
Ojibway (Chippewa) medicine lodge was made 
of bark or hide formed into a cylindrical vessel, 
filled with pebbles and sewn shut with spruce 
roots before a wooden handle was inserted. 
Once Euro-American canned goods became 
available to Indians, however, it eventually 
became commonplace to substitute metal con- 
tainers, usually a baking powder can, for natural 
materials. Instead of pebbles, buckshot might be 
used to produce the sound. The shape of the rat- 
tle remained the same, but the materials used in 
its manufacture and the resultant sound 
changed — apparently not enough to be reject- 
ed aesthetically. (The Winnebago, Ojibway 
neighbors to the south, continue to use tradi- 
tional gourd rattles in their medicine lodge and 
jokingly assert that the Ojibway have abandoned 
tradition and are now using beer cans for rat- 

Rattles accompany the Stomp Dance, com- 
mon among southeastern tribes. Traditional 
Stomp Dance music is cast in a call-and-response 
pattern: the leader of a line of dancers sings a 
brief melodic phrase, and the dancers repeat it 
exactly or answer it with a similar phrase. 
Although the leader carries a rattle in his hand, 
most of the percussion in the Stomp Dance is 
produced by vessel rattles made of turtle shells 
tied in bunches around the calves of the dancers. 
Their stomp-like dance steps produce the rat- 
tling sound from pebbles inside the turtle cara- 
paces. In this century, however, many Stomp 

dancers have begun to substitute milk cans for 
the turtle shells; they are easier to come by and 
simpler to make rattles from, and many feel that 
the sound is even enhanced in volume and quality. 

Pre-contact drums were usually made from 
logs hollowed by charring and scraping, with ani- 
mal skins stretched over their openings for 
drumheads. To be sure, this type of drum contin- 
ues to be made — the large, two-headed cotton- 
wood drums of Pueblo peoples, for instance. But 
when the Crass Dane e with its rituallv pi est ribed 
large drum spread to northern Plains Indians in 
the late 1800s, they found it expedient simply to 
substitute the commercially available marching 
band drum, long familiar to them from military 
bands on frontier outposts. To perform Indian 
music using this drum, they merely turned it on 
its side so that the singers could surround it. 
Today such drums with their plastic heads are 
commonplace, and Indian singing groups usual- 
ly decorate them by painting Indian designs or 
motifs of the name ol the group on the exposed 
head. But. in yet another change, a rejection of 
the marching band drum and a return to build- 
ing drums the traditional way appears to be part 
ol a general musical revitalization in Indian 

Adoption and Juxtaposition 

One European folk instrumental tradition 
adopted by Indian people throughout North 
America was fiddle music. The Indians learned 
fiddle-playing and step-dancing from French fur 


Fiddle and guitar players entertain in an Ojibway berry- 
picking camp in northern Minnesota, September 1937. 
Photo by Russell Lee, courtesy Prints and Photographs 
Division, Library of Congress 

traders throughout the (.real Lakes region 
beginning in the 1600s. Later, settlers from Ire- 
land and Si otland, who did trapping in the 
1700s and lumberjacking in the L800s, brought 
their fiddle repertoires as far west as the 
Athabaskan interior of Alaska, where Indian peo- 
ple maintain them today. Intermarriage between 
Europeans and Indians accelerated the accep- 
tance of European instrumental and dance tiadi- 
lic ins. 

The Saturday night square dame began to 
challenge Indian as well as Christian religious 
ideals. Traditional Ojibwav medicine lodge i ere- 
monies, customarily lasting several days, found 
then attendance dwindling as people took time 
oil to attend local square dances. A Catholic inis- 
sionary to the Menominee was reported to have 
chopped to pieces a fiddle belonging to one of 
his parishioners, telling him that he would never 
play "the devil's instrument" another Saturday 

Manv Indians developed their fiddle talents 
while working in lumberjack camps. Others were 
self-taught, spending spare moments in the 
woods practicing. In all-Indian logging camps, 
square-dance callers would perform in the Native 
tongue, and the repertoire ol fiddle tunes often 
included Indian compositions whose titles were 
derived from names of Indian settlements oi 
activities. Fiddlers at the west end ol lake 
Huron, for example, played "Manitoulin Island 
Wait/," named alter an island reservation in that 
lake; Algonquian speakers on the St. Man's 
River had a tune "Whitefish on the Rapids," 
referring to the great fishery between Lake Supe- 
rior and Lake Huron, which lor centuries provid- 

ed an important subsistence staple for Indians 
living nearby. 

Most Indian fiddles were of European manu- 
facture, but some were homemade from cigar 
boxes and fishline, and others were modified in 
some way to make them "Indian." In his film 
"Medicine Fiddle" ( 1901) Michael Loukinen 
interviewed a number of western Great Lakes 
performers, who provided some of the rich lore 
sin rounding their fiddle traditions. One man 
told of his deceased father who converted a 
store-bought SI"' fiddle to Indian use; to make it 
louder he put porcupine quills inside the fiddle's 
both and attached a deerbone to its neck. Hav- 
ing applied his "Indian medicine" to the instru- 
ment, he allowed no one to touch it. Some Indi- 
ans interviewed <>n film told stories about chance 
encounters with horned people playing fiddles 
in the woods or abandoned cabins. Because 
drawings of horns on human heads in Great 
Lakes pictographv traditionally signified spiritual 
power, the horned performers may be under- 
stood as spirits, although in this instance there 
may also be the concept ol the fiddle .is the 
"devil's instrument." 

A number of distinct Indian fiddle traditions 
began with this c ullure contact. Thus we find 
Indian fiddling contests toda\ among the Chero- 
kee of Oklahoma and among interior 
Athabaskans ol Alaska, a metis ("mixed") French- 
Ojibway-( Iree style on the Turtle Mountain 
Reservation in North Dakota, and a slightly dif- 
ferent Red River style further north in Manitoba 
among the Saulteaux, where fiddlers jig with 
their feet while playing. There are also fiddlers 
among the Houma of Louisiana and the Apache 
of Arizona, which is the only tribe also to have an 
indigenous one-string fiddle ol its own, totally 
unrelated to the European variety and used for 
plaving traditional Apache music. 

Another tradition of Euro-American culture 
that was adopted by Indian people was the sym- 
phonic (mostly brass) band. This was a late 19th 
century emulation of Anglo culture: as small 
towns had athletic teams and marching bands to 
perform on [uly fill in parades or under pavil- 
ions, so did main reservations. Just as baseball 
supplanted lacrosse' in many Indian communi- 
ties, so the marching band grew in importance at 
the expense of Native musical events. Many 
learned to play trumpets, trombones and clar- 
inets by attending primarily Anglo schools; oth- 
ers, in all-Indian boarding schools, had band 
performance imposed upon them as part of their 
programmed acculturation to deprive them of 


Above: The Onondaga Castle Cornet Band, founded in 
1862, was typical of Indian groups adopting the instru- 
ments and repertoires of the late 19th century concert 
band. Their costumes reflect pan-lndianisms, combining 
Iroquois with modified Plains elements, such as the 
stereotyped war bonnet. Photo by Fred R. Colcott, cour- 
tesy Onondaga County Parks Office of Museums & His- 
torical Sites 

Left: Ojibway from I'Anse, Michigan, receive musical 
instruction on band instruments from WPA music 
teacher Herbert Welsh. Photo courtesy National Anthro- 
pological Archives, Smithsonian Institution 

their Indian musical heritage, just as they were 
forbidden to speak their Native tongue or dress 
in tribal attire. Further erosion of traditional 
Indian music on some reservations was aided by 
the government's free band instruction as part of 
the WPA program in the 1930s. 

In Mexico and Central America the various 
lunula (band) traditions were adopted by Indian 
communities from the dominant mestizo culture. 
Their repertoire continues to include marchas, 
pasadobles and other compositions arranged and 

scored by late 19th century composers — the 
Spanish equivalents of John Phillip Sousa. Many 
of the performers were musically illiterate and 
had to learn the music by ear. Most of them 
lacked music teachers, so their techniques of 
playing and the tones they achieve from self- 
developed performance styles on clarinets, trum- 
pets and trombones do not produce the pol- 
ished, in-tune, dynamically controlled sounds we 
are accustomed to. These features of Anglo per- 
formance style are absent, and certain Indian 


aesthetic qualities of banda music might offend 
us, lint they please their audiences. Banda 
schools have in fact become cultural institutions 
in Indian communities, such as in Oaxaca, where 
rural Zapotec Indian children sometimes live in 
banda < ommunities away from their families. 
The town banda has become part oi Indian cul- 
tural identity for these people — one which dis- 
tinguishes one Indian community from another. 
Furthermore, the Zapotec banda has social pres- 
tige within the community and functions much 
like art artisans' guild. In the tequio system of 
social organization, members of the banda are 
exempt from such communal responsibilities as 
roadbuilding, to which all others in the town owe 
their services. The banda members' performance 
at all secular fiestas and religious leasts a\)i\ pro- 
cessions is considered their paramount duty to 
sin iety. 

While band traditions have been transmitted 
mostly through oral tradition in Indian < ommu- 
nities, the mass information media oi the domi- 
nant society have played a kev role in introduc- 
ing Indians to the latest in Euro-American musi- 
cal forms. Rapid changes in 20th century tec h- 
nology have had a dramatic effect on music in 
Indian Country. Through exposure, first to 
radio, then the phonograph and television, Indi- 
an people have been bombarded with the musi- 
cal culture of the dominant society foi dec .ides. 
Rather than passive consumers oi American pop- 
ular music, the) have adopted man) ol the styles 
and musical instruments commonl) found in 
Euro-American society. In some instances the) 
have adapted them to their own musical tradi- 
tions; in others, the) have accepted them along 
with the asso< iated musical genres. Thus 
throughout Indian Country toda) one finds 
older traditions of non-Indian origin lunc tioning 
as contemporary popular music as well .is the lat- 
est forms of Anglo popular music used In Indian 
pe< iple for a vai iety <>l purposes. 

Take, foi instance, a prevalent style of dance 
music c ailed waila, performed in southern \i i- 
zona by its creators, the Tohono O'odham (for- 
merly known as Papago). Waila is also called 
"( ihii ken S< i an h" by some — i omparing the 
w.i\ (lane ei s kick back their feet on the hard, dry, 
dust) ground to the wa\ a chicken scare lies for 
food. The music is clearly derived from Mexican 
and ^nglo neighbors of the O'odham; parts oi 
the tradition had already formed a syncretized 
st\le b) the mid-19th century. German and 
( vec h settlei s along the Texan Rio ( a ancle 
brought European button accordions with them 

in the 19th century to play the polka traditions 
of the Old World. The accordions as well as the 
polka repertoires and styles were in turn taken 
up by Mexic an performers, and a new music 
called norteno emerged. Scholars believe this 
music reached the O'odham by about 1850, 
when it began to be performed by an ensemble 
of fiddles and guitars (introduced by missionar- 
ies) with a rhythmic accompaniment of snare 
and bass drums, each played by a different indi- 
vidual. Eventually this ensemble changed us 
charae ter and sound: the contemporary button 
accordion was adopted, and saxophones, whose 
playing techniques were learned in high school 
bands, replaced the fiddles in the 1950s and 
1960s. Today's waila rhythm section includes an 
elcc trie guitar, bass and traps (a set of drums and 
cymbals played by one man). Folklorist James S. 
Griffith comments on the irony of this phenome- 
non: "Thus the two great institutional attempts at 
changing Tohono O'odham culture — the Span- 
ish mission system and the Indian sc I Is — are 

icllci ted m, ol all things, the organization ol 
O'odham popular dance bands!" 1 

"Chicken Scratch" bands typically perform a 
set ol tunes in succession, moving from a waila (a 
fast tempo polka), to a two-step chotiz, to a 
cumbia, a Carribean borrowing. Occasionally they 
include a wall/ or a mazurka. Like most Indian 
music the u adit ion is an oral one. not learned or 
lead In mi sc on\ Some of the tunes an- quite old, 
while others have been taken from commercial 
recordings ol Mexican norteno groups. Some 
populai American melodies, such as "Rudolph 
the Red-Nosed Reindeer" have been incorporat- 
ed into the repertoire. 

Waila music has by no means replaced older 
O'odham music . Like musics ol many American 
Indians, die traditional < )'odham repertoire con- 
sists principally ol unison songs accompanied by 
pei c iission — either rattles, or a notched rasp 
using an inverted basket drum as resonator. 
Such traditional instruments arc- used in the 
semi-sacred chelkona, or "skipping and scraping" 
dance, performed to induce rainfall in tbeii 
desert homeland by lines of male and female 
dancers with spec ial costumes and body paint in 
cloud and lightning designs. Also traditional is 
the keihina, a round dance which, though some- 
what social in nature, is still thought to bring 
rain, as the dane ers stamp vigorousl) on the 
ground to encourage rainclouds to appear. 

James S. Griffith, Southern Arizona Folk Arts (Tin sun: 
The University ol Arizona I'rc-ss, 1988), |>. 72. 


Yaqui Pascola dancers 
wearing cocoon rattles 
around their calves 
perform to the music 
of a folk harp and folk 
fiddle. Photo by James 
S. Griffith 

In the Deer Dance of the Yaqui, music is supplied by a tampelo — the player of a small flute and a hand- 
drum (on the far right) — and three singers seated on the ground using water drums and rasps. Photo by 
James S. Griffith 


While iliis religious repertoire remains intact, 
waila bands perform Saturday night social music, 
thus functioning as a popular music tradition for 
most O'odham. 

While the O'odham and most other Native 
peoples of North America carefully separate 
their traditional sacred music from evolved, 
European-influenced secular forms such as waila, 
there are isolated examples where the two have 
been juxtaposed. This has occurred in the l'/i\in- 
la Deer Dance complex, a traditional religious 
practice of Yaqui Indians still in Sonora, Mexie o, 
and of those in southern Arizona, who lied per- 
secution by the Mexican government in the late 
19th century. The history of the Yaqui helps 
explain the evolution of the Pascola Deer l)an< e 
celebration. During the Spanish conquest of 
Mexico in the earl) I 7th century, an expedition 
against the Yaqui in 1610 was defeated by the 
tenai ions Indians. Possibly as a strategy against 
further military action b\ the Spaniards, the 
Yaqui requested that missionaries he sent to live 
among them. Two Jesuits settled in their tei rito- 
ry in 1617, and gradually a type ol ceremonialism 
developed that syncretized Indian and Christian 
elements, such as is evident in the Pascola Deei 
Dance complex. 

The ritual is performed at lies!, is to honor 
Cod and certain saints. It consists ol sua essive 
performanc es l>\ two musical ensembles — the 
first reflecting European musical traditions, the 
other exclusively Native ones. The transition 
between them, however, is not marked, as one 
flows into the other. The performance begins to 
the ac con lpan intent of a folk harp and I oik lid- 
die, both modeled after c lassie al European c oun- 
terparts and offering clear evidence that the 
Indians began to copy Spanish Renaissance 
string instruments shortly after the ( lories inva- 
sion. The players arc seated on chairs, and the 
st\ le c if their music is decidedly European, 
although Indian interpretation of European 
tonalities and counterpoint are evident, and per- 
formance techniques are more folk than classi- 
i al. Dane cis lor both the Pascola and Deer 
Dances weai c oco< »n rattles strung around their 
calves — c leai h an indigenous musical instru- 
ment. Pascola dancers wear masks positioned to 
one side ol the head rather than over the lace. 

( )nc e the Pasc ola part ol the ritual has c on- 
cluded, the completely Native musical ensemble 
begins. A tampelo begins to beat a small hand 
drum with a si it k while simultaneously playing a 
three-hole flagelot. The other musicians are 
three males seated on the mound — an Indian 

tradition — playing a water drum and using 
rasps with scrapers and resonators. They perform 
songs with poetic texts in an archaic form of the 
Yaqui language unintelligible to most Yaqui 
todav. Meanwhile, the dancer removes a sistrum 
rattle (Native) that had been tucked in his belt 
during the Pascola section of performance and 
relocates the mask to cover his face. A Deer 
dancer, wearing a deer's head atop his own, 
begins his dance and completes the flow from 
music of Spanish origin to a probably older 
Native tradition. 

The Changing SoundScape 

Waila, brass bands, Pascola music and that of 
other Indian string ensembles are examples ol 
external traditions syncretized in the past by 
Indian peoples with their own styles ol perfor- 
mance. But today on Indian reservations and in 
urban Indian communities one also encounters 
groups playing country and western music, 
rhythm and blues, and even forms ol jaz2 fusion. 

Dining the period of American social unrest 
in the late 1960s, the figure of the "protest 
singer" with an acoustic guitar emerged, not only 
in Anglo soc iety but in Indian Country as well. 
Paralleling Anglo countei parts, Indian protest 
singers c reated songs depicting a wide range of 
social injustices visited upon Indian peoples. Per- 
formers such as the Dakota singer, Floyd Wester- 
man and thi' Cree, Buffy St. Marie, began to 
compose, pci form publicly and eventually 
ice old an Indian repertoire not unlike (hat of 
Pete Seeger oi Peter, Paul and Maty. But the 
issues they articulated resonated principally with 
Indian audiences, since it was they who were 
injured b\ the dominant soc iety's despoilment of 
the environment, governmental interference in 
Indian affairs, poverty on the reservation and its 
at lenc hint soc ial ills like alcoholism and suicide, 
as well as past injuries inflicted on Indian people. 
Westerman's album "Custer Died for Your Sins" 
in the early 1 970s — its title a double-barbed 
missionary and military irony — became a best 
scIIct among Indians overnight. The sarcasm 
characteristic ol in-group Indian humor is also 
reflected in the names contemporary Indian 
ensembles e house for themselves. Expropriating 
Anglo stereotypes, an Onondaga blues band 
from upstate New York calls itself "White Bov 
and the Wagon Burners" (the keyboardist is non- 
Indian), and a rock group from Phoenix with 
membet s ol several tribes — Navajo, Ojibway, 
Menominee, Hopi and Blackfoot — is named 
"Wild Band ol Indians." 


Mohican composer Brent 
Michael Davids performs on 
one of several crystal flutes 
he invented. Among his 
compositions are pieces for 
synthesizer and for 
jazz/fusion ensembles, and 
a dance score, "Moon of the 
Falling Leaves," recently 
performed by New York 
City's Joffrey Ballet. Photo 
courtesy Brent Michael 

The tradition of protest song continues in 
Indian Country and is reflected in the reper- 
toires of many performers at this year's Festival. 
While the message is much the same as in the 
1960s, its vehicle has changed: the lyrics of satiri- 
cal songs performed on electric instruments in 
blues ensembles comment on political power 
("Everyone is white at the White House"), or on 
constant harassment of Indians from law 
enforcement officials ("Please Mr. Officer, let 
me explain, I got to get to a powwow tonight"), 
or the arbitrary mapping of Indian lands by gov- 
ernment planners that results in social upheaval 
("Someone drew a line"). The Bureau of Indian 
Affairs is an especially favorite target of Indian 
protest singers, who perceive its Native bureau- 
crats as entrenched, self-serving and worthy of 
the appellation "the true Washington Redskins." 

The program of American Indian music at 
this year's Festival represents as broad a range as 
possible of »o«-traditional musics being per- 
formed today on reservations and in urban Indi- 
an communities. The curators felt it appropriate 
in the year of the Quincentenary to demonstrate 
some of the musical repercussions in Indian 
Country of the initial Columbian "encounter." 
Many of our performers come from very conserv- 
ative Indian backgrounds; some are even reli- 
gious practitioners, maintaining and providing 
the music required for ancient ceremonies. But 
some chose to go beyond the traditional music 
they were brought up with, to adopt other styles, 
to take up non-Indian musical instruments, to 

create songs with English texts in a contempo- 
rary idiom and to perform before non-Indian as 
well as Indian audiences. This musical direction 
is a relatively recent development, which proba- 
bly began with the protest singers of the 1960s. 
Some performers at the Festival have chosen 
their musical direction as a means of "getting the 
Indian message across." This incentive is well 
expressed by the Oneida singer, Joanne Shenan- 
doah, in a recent statement entitled "1991: The 
Year of the Native American," as she describes 
how she became a protest singer and active com- 

As a Native person brought up sur- 
rounded by non-Indians I ached to find 
a way to communicate my history to my 
American friends; perhaps ... a popular 
film, or a top 40 song about Indians 
which would give us the basis for dis- 
cussing a different realitv than the one 
they had come to believe was paramount 
in the world . . . For a society extraordi- 
narily dependent upon the media for its 
perceptions and beliefs ... it is necessary 
to remove the stereotypes which have for 
so long kept [Indian people] down. 
Presently, there are many Indian per- 
formers on the road and in the studio. 
They are filming, dancing and record- 
ing, ever hopeful their work will finally 
be taken seriously; that they will be given 
the chance to show the world we are 


The blues/rock band, "White Boy and the Wagon Burners," from the Onondaga Reservation near Syracuse, New York, 
performs at an informal open-air concert. Photo by Richard Puchyr 

more than images from times past. . . . 
Their musi( is t reative, lively, and root- 
ed in their ancienl traditions. Ii isn'i .ill 
drums around a fire. ( live us a lisirn and 
watch as we peel away your misconcep- 
tions. (Promotional flyer 1991 ) 

< )thers pi esenl the mush they were broughl 
up with. Although European origins may be <lis- 
cernible in what the) do 01 play, ii is Indian 
nuisii . played 1>\ and foi Indian people. Thus 
wail. i luni lions as a popular idiom foi the 
( )'odham on a S.uurd.u night in Arizona, as docs 
country and western, or blues in bars or night- 
clubs on or near reservations in other parts ol 
North Amerii a, or marimba <>i bi ass bands in 
small town festivals throughout Mexico and Cen- 
tral America. Because music is never static, tradi- 
tions continue to evolve, and we can certainly 
expei t further changes in the sounds* ape of 
Indian ( lountrv. 

Suggested I istening 

Bet ause ol the mam rei ordings available, readers 
should consult catalogues from Canyon Records and 
Indian House Rei ords, where evolved forms ol Indian 
music are usualh listed as "contemporary." 

( aim >u Ret olds 
4143 N. Huh St. 
Suite 1 
Phoenix, AZ 85016 

Indian I [< puse Rei ords 
P.O. Box 172 
Taos, NM 87571 

Suggested \ ieiviug 

"Medicine Kiddle." 1991. 81 minutes, coloi video. Pro- 

diu ei director Michael I.oukinen. I p North 
Films, 331 TFA, Northern Michigan University, 
Marquette, MI 49855 


A Hopi in Two Musical Worlds 

Jacob Coin 

When our people first emerged onto this, 
the Fourth World, thev came upon Massau, 
guardian of this world. Our people asked to live 
here and were given permission to do so with 
certain conditions. Massau instructed that to live 
here we must adopt four basic guides for our 
lives. First, we must have na'wakinpi (prayer), a 
way of communicating with our Creator. Second, 
we must have tup'tseuni (a religion) for spiritual 
guidance. Third, Massau said we must have ka'tsi 
(a culture), a way of life that distinguishes us 
from others. Finally, Massau said we must have 
navo'ti (prophesy) to guide our people into the 

Massau might also have instructed the peo- 
ple that to live in balance in the Fourth World, 
we must have music and song .is a vehicle lor 
integrating the four basic guides into our lives. 
As long as humanity has been here, music and 
song have been a primary means of teaching and 
learning the ways of the Fourth World. 

As a voting box, 1 came to expect songs of 
the kachina to be a vehicle for learning the wavs 
of the Hopi. Their songs told of the virtues of 
waking before sunrise and giving prayers; of hav- 
ing a good heart and respect for the environ- 
ment and all living things. We understand that 
these virtues and others are basic to the Hopi 
way. At a voting age all Hopi learn that teaching 
is one of the many roles music and song have in 
traditional Hopi life. 

Universally among Indians, music is a part of 
the social environment, a medium for teaching 
the ways of tribal life, and a means ol passing 
tribal and clan histories from one generation to 
the next. It is an instrument for learning the nat- 
ural order of the world and of the universe and 
for understanding humanity's relationship with 
the earth and other living things. Indian people 

use music and song as a guide and a gauge for 
social conscience; music and song keep tribal 
mores and social expectations visible for all of 
the people. Musk has certainly always been a key 
to spiritual growth among Indian and Native 
peoples. Above all, music is an invaluable enter- 
tainment medium and food for the heart and 
soul for all mankind. 

For the most part, contemporary Indian and 
other Native musicians and songwriters accept 
and remain true to the traditional roles of music. 
For the contemporary Native musician, music is 
more than simply entertainment. Like their 
ancestors, today's Native artists agree that a com- 
mitment to music in its role as teacher is an 
important responsibility to be upheld. 

Being a Hopi Indian and a musician/song- 
writer. I find guidance and inspiration for my 
music in traditional Hopi roots. I experiment 
with a matrix of techniques in using traditional 
Native musical forms and stvles to create contem- 
porary songs. In the end, I believe that tradition- 
al music and contemporary music are extensions 
of each other. The primary challenge is to bridge 
the gap between traditional and modern music 

I have tried to do this by three methods. 
First, I pull the meaning of a traditional song 
into a contemporary piece by translating the 
song's lyrics into English and then composing a 
melody and defining a beat that conveys the 
meaning ol the song as it was originally intended 
by the traditional composer. This is perhaps the 
easiest method, since it amounts to composing 
new music for existing lyrics without having to be 
faithful to the all-important original melody. 

Second, I score a traditional song in its 
entirety for Western instrumentation, including 
guitar, piano, vocals, and the like. In this proc ess 

Jacob Coin, compose) ami musician, is a membei />/ the Tobacco Clan, Hopi Nation, from Kykotsmovi Village, Third Mesa. He cur- 
rently represents Hopi interests in Washington, D.C. 


Members of a group of Pai-a-kya-muh. or 
Tewa clowns, one of the priesthood fra- 
ternities at Walpi, Hopi Reservation, 
appear to be adjusting regalia. In place of 
masks, these clowns wear close-fitting 
white caps with long horns tufted with 
corn husks. Among their duties is to sprin- 
kle corn pollen on kachinas to honor Mas- 
sau. Photo ca. 1891, courtesy National 
Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian 

' J Hiim -^k^ V 

I try t<> be faithful to the original melody, which 
is often difficult be< ause traditional songs are 
composed solely foi voice, and instrumentation 
often cannot exactly replicate notes produced !>v 
the human v< >ic e. 

Third, I weave traditional songs together 
with contemporary musical forms, allowing both 
to express themselves in the composition. This 
practice is most innovative — and preferred — 
since it allows an artist complete freedom to e re- 
ate new music and new songs utilizing both influ- 

For the most part, the drum was the primary 
instrument for Native musi< . ( her time, drums 
wen- supplemented with flutes and rattles of vai i- 
ous kinds. As the use of these instruments 
evolved, so did traditional music. The pattern of 
this evolution is t reated by traditional music's 
continual reai hing out to embrac e its develop- 
ing i ontemporary relative. 

Today, other instruments besides the drum 
have become at cepted vehii les for the musical 
thoughts of Native artists. Guitat and othei 
stringed instruments, flutes and various pen us- 
sion instruments have become the norm in the 
ok lustration of contemporary Native- songs. 

What would really rock (and shock! ) our 
ancestors would be the revolution brought by 
ele< n ified instruments and dec tronic spec ial 
effects. < )l .ill Native musicians and songwriters. 
Keith Secola (( )jibwa) of Phoenix, Arizona and 
Buddy Red How (< )glala Sioux) of fine Ridge, 
South Dakota, have been most successful in 

maintaining the integrity of Native sound pat- 
terns while expanding on them with electric 
instrumentation and special eflec ts. 

Ronald Smith of Minneapolis, Minnesota, a 
Mandan Hidaisa traditional singer/ composei 
with the Eagle Whistle Drum, suggests that the 
inevitable evolution of music, both Native and 
c ontemporary, is a good relied ion of social 
c hange at any given time. Without judging it. 
Ron describes lodav \ music as a snapshot of 
sot iciv. According to Ron, the evolution of 
Indian music i ellec ts the dynamism of Indian 
peoples — "We aie not a people even close to 

Has traditional music changed? It has reallv 
evolved. Traditional music has reached out and 
touched the 1! I st century. The fortunate result 
lor both worlds is that Native musicians still 
undei stand and value the man) sue ml roles ol 
music. Native musicians will continue to com- 
pose songs that have meaning, that have their 
genesis in traditional ideas and inspirations. 
Native musicians are to be recognized, just as 
their ancient predecessors have been, as teac hers 
ol thought conveyed through music and song. 

Massau surely knew the importance ol music 
in the Fourth World. He would never have insist- 
ed on people having Prayer, Religion, Culture 
and Prophes) without assuming music as a medi- 
um for carrying them forward. Good for us, 
music continues to fill our hearts and minds with 
the good things ol the Fourth World. 


Cherokee Hymn Singing 
in Oklahoma 

Charlotte Heth 


The Christianization of a majority of the 
members of the Cherokee Nation has spawned 
hymns and gospel songs — new kinds of Indian 
music. Cherokees' interaction with Whites and 
Blacks on the continually moving frontier also 
brought fiddle and guitar music to them. The 
older Native religious life, and the ceremonial 
music and dance associated with it, suffered 
from the changes in this period and has survived 
to a greater or lesser extent in rural pockets of 
Oklahoma and North Carolina. 

Today approximately 90% of the Native speak- 
ers of the Cherokee language in northeastern 
Oklahoma are Christian. In Cherokee Christian 
churches, music plavs as important a role as the 
doctrine preached. While both Cherokees and 
missionaries adapted some songs directly from 
Protestant models, others appear unique. All are 
sung in Cherokee, and the translations often do 
not match their English counterparts, when such 
counterparts exist. 

Sequovah, a Cherokee man, invented a syl- 
labary for writing his language that was officially 
adopted by the Cherokee Nation in 1821. There- 
after, official documents, newspapers, letters, 
gravestones, magical and medicinal formulas, 
hymnbooks. Bibles, almanacs, minutes of meet- 
ings, and public and private records were kept in 
Cherokee along with (or frequently' without) 
their English versions. America's first Indian 
newspaper, the bilingual Cherokee Phoenix, 
appeared Februarv 21. 1828, edited by Eli. is 
Boudinot, a Cherokee, who was assisted by 
Samuel A. Worcester, a missionary. Today the 
majority' of extant materials from the 19th centu- 
ry printed in Cherokee deal with Christian top- 

The first Cherokee hymnbook was printed in 
1829 and underwent many subsequent revisions 
and editions. In all of its editions, the texts are in 
the Cherokee syllabary yvithout translation into 

English, and except for a feyv temperance songs, 
musical notation is absent. The tunes themselves 
have been handed down now for 160 years or 
more yvithout ever having been written down. In 
L846 the Cherokee Singing Book, conceived and 
compiled by Worcester with the help of Lowell 
Mason, was published in Boston with four-part 
harmonic settings and Cherokee texts. A close 
check of these tunes with those used today by the 
Cherokees in Oklahoma shows no correspon- 
dence. Although many of the tunes in the 
singing book are used by Cherokees (such as 
"Old Hundred"), the texts associated yvith them 
are different from (hose proposed bv Worcester 
in 1846. There are several Cherokee hymns and 
gospel songs whose words and music have never 
appeared in print. 

In one of the most recent editions of the 
Cherokee Hymn Hook (first published in 1877), 
there are 132 hymns, 5 doxologies and 3 temper- 
ance songs. In addition to the published hymn 
texts, there are new songs being composed con- 
stantly for Cherokee "sings," or assemblies in 
which a capella quartets and choirs, particularly 
family groups, share their music. 

One can find original Cherokee hymnals 
(from 1829-1962) in the Huntington, Newberry, 
Gilcrease, University of Tulsa, Northeastern 
Oklahoma State University, and Oklahoma Uni- 
versity Libraries, and the Library of Congress. 
For the most part, succeeding editions in the 
19th century are duplications or expansions of 
preceding ones. Two 20th-century editions 
located are printed in typefaces different from 
that of their predecessors and were never widely 

Charlotte Heth, forme) Director of the American Indian Pro- 
gram nl I ( I A, n i urrently Chairperson »/ the Department 
<>/ Ethnomusicology and Systematic Musicology at the univer- 
sity. An ethnomusicologist, she has published widely on 
American Indian music. Sheis an enrolled memberofthe 
Cherokee Nation o\ Oklahoma. 


J.B. Dreadfulwater leads his Cherokee Indian Baptist Choir in a performance of traditional, unaccompanied hymns in the 
Cherokee language. Hall of Musical Instruments, National Museum of American History, 1988. Photo by Laurie Minor-Pen- 
land, courtesy Smithsonian Institution 


HYMN 87. C. M. 

Chrixt's Second Comtmj. 

OV.a o>ac=. 


U** KR 80><54 


1 D4Z T0°/1TT 

Tcrz s<ro. 

3 RlVhE <r°fo»IJ»- tgt; 

h»f L3.1AT 
Oh RWliE 

4 QPehox d/ia 

Kr t.^* IiA.A-3 

Text for the hymn, "Christ's Second Coming," 
written in the Cherokee syllabary invented by 
Sequoyah in the early 19th century. The words 
are sung to the tune of "Amazing Grace" and 
appeared in the Cherokee Hymn Book (1878). 

used. A popular version used today is reprinted 
from the original plates ol the 1877 version. The 
missionary periodicals, Cherokee Messengei (IS Il- 
ls 16) and ( heroket Gospel Tidings (1898-1901 ). 
contain additional hymns. 

The Music 

The music itsell is similai to Christian singing 
in Protestanl ( hnu hes, hut with several impor- 
tanl different es. I he vocal quality is for the most 
pai i nasal and moderately tense, as are the 
sounds of the ( Iherokee language. The hymns 
usuall) have some breaks (glottal stops) and 
man) sliding attacks and releases, features whu h 
also mi mil the tonal ( Iherokee language. Undu- 
lating melodies and pentatonic scales are also 
popular in the hymns, with the slides and glides 
exaggerated by a slow tempo. The vocal line may 
be broken up with ( horns e< h( >es and responses. 

Metric hymns find favor among the ( Ihero- 
kees: many tunes c aw be used for a single text, 
and t onversely, many texts for a single tune. 
Mm h ol this una< < ompanied singing still has 
i huh mil vocal surges on accented beats. 

Repetition, variation, and improvisation play 
an important pan in each form. The hymns and 
gospel songs are for the most part strophic . as 
one might expei 1, but frequentl) several differ- 
ent tunes and texts are strung together in a song 
i \i le. Often the singers choose to end with a 
quick double time section. 

Two popular hymns, "One Drop of Blood" 


and "Amazing Grace," were sung on the Trail of 
Tears, the forced removal in the L830s of the 
Cherokees from their eastern homelands to Indi- 
an Territory, now the state of Oklahoma. While 
"'Amazing Grace" is familiar to most Christians, 
"One Drop of Blood" lives primarily in oral tradi- 
tion. It has been copied and recopied for genera- 
tions. A translation of the text is: 

What can we do, Jesus, our King? He's 

alreadv paid for us. 
Our friends, we all must work. 
Our King, Your place over which You are 

Our King. Your place over which You are 


The familiar hymn, "Amazing Grace," con- 
tains words dealing with Christ's Second Com- 

God's Son, He paid for us. 

Then to heaven He went, after He paid 

for us. 
But He spoke when He arose. 
"I will come again," He said. 

The tradition of Christian hymnody among 
the Cherokees is among the oldest and best doc- 
umented examples of change in Indian music 
brought about by contact with European culture. 
Other tribes forcibly removed to Indian Territo- 
ry (Oklahoma) do have similar traditions — the 
Creek and Choctaw, for example. But the inven- 
tion of the Cherokee syllabary in 1821 promoted 
Cherokee literacy and encouraged the spread of 
hymn singing among them at a time when their 
Native religion and culture were still viable. 
Because the first Cherokee hvmnals contained 

only texts, it is safe to assume that some melodies 
were already alive in Cherokee oral tradition 
before they were brought west in the l)S3Hs. 
Cherokee hymns today — performed in church, 
at home and in "sings," and printed in newslet- 
ters with stories about active family gospel quar- 
tets and small choirs, such as those directed by 
J.B. Dreadfulwater — continue to be an active 
tradition in northeastern Oklahoma. 

Furthei Readings 

Bass, Althea. 1936. Cherokee Messenger. Norman: Univer- 
sity ol Oklahoma Press. 

Foreman, Grant. 1938. Sequoyah. Norman: Universit) 
of Oklahoma Press. 

. 1953. Indian Removal Norman: Uni- 

\ci sii\ ( >l < )klahoma Puss 

Hudson. Charles. 1976. The Southeastern Indium. 
Nashville: University of Tennessee Press. 

McLoughlin, William G. 1984. Cherokees ami Missionar- 
ies, I 7SV-1S39. New Haven: Yale University Press. 

Walker, Robert Shirks. 1931. Torchlights to the Chero- 
kees: The Brainerd Mission. New York: The Macmillan 

Woodward, Grace Steele. 1963. flic Cherokees. Noun. m: 
Universit) ol Oklahoma Press. 

Suggested I istening 

Dreadfulwater, f.B., dir. Cherokee Indian Choir. Box 205, 
Stillwell, Oklahoma 74960. 

Rhodes, Willard, ed. Indian Songs of Today. AFS 

Rhodes, Willard, ed. Delaware. Cherokee, ('.Inn law. 
Creek. AFS L37. 

Smyth, Willie, ed. Songs <</ Indian Territory: Native 
American Music Traditions oj Oklahoma. Center 
of the American Indian, Oklahoma City, Okla- 



Making the White House Work 

Marjorie A. Hunt 

1 duln 7 feel like a servant to a man. I felt I was a servant 
to my government, to my country. " 

Alonzo Fields, maitre d' 

For nearly two centuries, since the time oi 
John Adams, the White House has been the 
home of American presidents. A powerful 
national symbol, it is a uniquely private and pub- 
lic place — at once a family residence, a seat of 
the government, a ceremonial center and an his- 
toric building and museum. 

( )ver the \c.u s. hundreds of people have 
worked behind the s< enes to make the White- 
House function, preparing family meals, serving 
elaborate State Dinners, polishing floors, tend- 
ing the grounds and welcoming visitors. Today, a 
household staff ol 96 full-lime domestic and 
maintenance employees — including butlers, 
maids, engineers, housemen, c hefs, electricians, 
Hoi ists. ushers, doormen, carpenters and 
plumbers — work together under one roof to 
operate, maintain and preserve the 132-room 
I'.xei utive Mansion. 

In i elebration ol the 200th anniversary of 
the White- House-, the "Woi kers at the White 
I louse" program explores the skills and folklife 
of former Whin- House workers — their occupa- 
tional techniques. ( ustoms, values, experiences 
and codes of behavior. It examines the distinc- 
tive ways in which the While House-, as a unique 
occupational setting, shapes work experien< <-. 

I he living memory and firsthand experi- 
ences of the workers participating in this pro- 
gram span almost a century, 15 presidential 

administrations, from the presidenc) of William 
Taft to that of George Bush. Several have- worked 
at the White House for over 30 years, serving as 
many as ten first families. Lillian Parks, a 95-year- 
old former maid and seamsiiess. started working 
fin President Hoover in 1 929 and served 
through the Eisenhower administration; her 
memory of the White House goes back to 1909. 
when her mother, Maggie Rogers, joined the 
staff as a maid for President Taft. "I was 12 years 
old when I first started going to the White House 
with m\ mother," she says, "and I've been in and 
out of the White House evei since-." 

The oral histories and personal experiences 
of these workers offer valuable insights into how 
larger patterns ol mk ial change in the- nation 
aflec ted employees' daih routines and work rela- 
tionships. Alonzo Fields, a 92-year-old former 
maitre d' who joined the staff in 1931, comments 
eloquently on what it was like to encounter seg- 
regation in the White House and how this situa- 
tion changed ovei his 21 years of service. 'They 
had separate dining rooms — Black and White. 
We all worked together, but we couldn't eat 
together.. ..Here in the While House. I'm work- 
ing for the- President. This is the home of the 
democracy of the world and I'm good enough to 
handle the President's food — to handle the 
President's food and do everything — but I can 
not eat with the- help." Preston Bruce, a share- 

Workers at the Wliite House has been made possible through the collaboration oj the White House Historical Association which has 

■ d funding from lln- National Endowment p» the Humanities, and the support oj the Johnson Foundation t Trust) and the 
Smithsonian Institution Special Exhibition hum!. 


Maitre d' Alonzo Fields and his staff 
of butlers, including Samuel Ficklin, 
John Pye and Armstead Barnett, 
stand ready to serve a tea during 
the Roosevelt administration. Photo 
courtesy Alonzo Fields 

Maitre d' Alonzo Fields greets President 
and Mrs. Truman. Photo courtesy Harry S. 
Truman Library 

cropper's son from South Carolina who worked 
as a doorman for 22 years, tells of the thrill he 
felt in seeing the struggle for civil rights from 
inside the White House. Others speak of how the 
various approaches of first families affected their 
wavs of serving cmests, conducting social events 
and interacting with stall. 

All of the emplovees describe working at the 
White House as a unique experience where 
work, with its variety of staged events and back- 
stage support for them, has a strong "performa- 
tive" element. Butlers and chefs, for example, 

Marjorie Hunt is curator <>/ the "Workers <<i the White 
House" program. She is a folklorist and research associate 
mth the Centet forFolklife Programs ami Cultural Studies. 

talk about how it is different from working in a 
luxury hotel or for a wealthy family, citing every- 
thing from security concerns to the high stan- 
dards demanded by the realization that one's 
performance reflects on the president and the 
nation. "This is the president's house. You arc- 
serving the world, entertaining the world. It's go) 
to be right," said Alonzo Fields. "You're working 
for the highest office in the land." said doorman 
Preston Bru< e. "You know that whatever you do 
is going to affect the family upstairs." To work at 
the White House was to serve as a guardian of 
the national honor — this ethos informed work 
performances and behavior at every level. 

While first families are only temporary resi- 
dents at the White House, the household stall 


It's not a hotel it's not a private home, it's not a museum. But on 
the other hand it's all those things together " 

— Alfredo Saenz, butler 

r> v - 



Chef Henry Haller prepares a dinner in the White House kitchen. Photo cour- 
tesy the White House 

are permanent employees. Many 
have been there for over 30 years. 
For these workers, the transition 
from one administration to the 
next is a difficult and challenging 
time. On Inauguration Day, they 
must say farewell to a family the) 
have served for years and begin 
adjusting to new ways of doing 
and at ting, new likes and dislikes, 
new routines ol work. "You had to 
adapt. That's the thing that's 
paramount," said maitre d' Alon- 
zo Fields, who experienced the 
dramatic shift in the White House 
from the formal elegance oi the 
I [oovers to the exuberant infor- 
mality of the Roosevelt family. 
Workers not only had to learn 
new routines, but had to build 
new relationships. "You must earn 
then li usi." said Mr. Fields. 


Plumber Howard Arrington crafted the 
elaborate metal stand for Tricia Nixon's 
wedding cake. Photo courtesy Richard 
M. Nixon Library 

When a new president 
goes in there, he doesn't know his way 
ai on in 1. and he's watching you. And you 
must assni e him — you must assure him 
by body language — that you have no 
interesl othet than in him, in the presi- 
dent y. You don't i ai e who's president 
— you're working for the public. You're 
a servant to the public . just like he is. 

F.u h job at the White I louse — butler, i ar- 
penter, calligrapher or cook — has a unique sc-t 
of challenges, skills, tasks and responsibilities. 
Workers take pride' in their abilities — the mas- 
ten ol spec ial tec hniques, the knowledge ol 
work proi esses, the- exen ise of proper decorum. 
For a butler, serving a State- Dinner requires not 
only precise timing and etfic iency, but the ability 
to conduct one-sell with sen ial grace-. "It's the pre- 
sentation," said butler Norwood Williams. Door- 
men take pride in the- way they treat people, priz- 
ing theii abilitj to remember names and make 
White- 1 louse- guests leel comfortable. "I had my 
own style oi receiving guests," said Preston Bruce. 
"I remembered everybody. 1 greeted all the 


We knew everybody. It was like a close-knit family. We worked 
together and saw each other everyday. Everyday you 'd be crossing some- 
one's path or working together on a project. And that's one of the hard- 
est things — to leave that. " 

— Eugene Allen, niaitre d' 


White House workers get together for a party during the "Truman days." Photo courtesy Alonzo Fields 

guests when they came to a State Dinner. If a 
person came more than one time. I didn't have 
to ask his name." 

Workers speak of efforts to devise innovative 
systems for accomplishing tasks and the satisfac- 
tion of adding their own personal touch to the 
performance of their jobs. Preston Bruce, for 
example, perceived a need for a more effi( ient 
way to give escort cards to guests coining to for- 
mal events at the White House. Working togeth- 
er with carpenter Bonner Arlington, he 
designed a special table of the right height and 
size to hold all of the cards. Nearly 20 years later, 
it is still known as "Bruce's Table." Alonzo Fields 
tells of the challenge he faced trying to figure 
out how to produce "double-header" teas for 
Mrs. Roosevelt. 

Mrs. Roosevelt, she had leas — five or 
six hundred a tea, twice in the same 
afternoon. There'd be a tea for 500 .it 

four o'clock and a tea for 500 at five 
o'clock. Now, you've got to serve those 
people and get them out of there. And 
there's no one there to tell you how to 
do it. 

So one time I spoke to Mrs. Roo- 
sevelt. I said, 'Madam, how do you want 
this tea served?' 

She says, 'Oh, I don't know. I've 
been told it can't be done. But that's 
what I want.' 

....Now. I had traveled. I had played 
in bands. 1 had played in circus bands, 
and I had seen the tents and the rings 
torn down within five seconds and a new 
group come on in that same ring. ...And 
1 said, 'I'll just produce this like I would 
a three-iing circus!' And that's what I 

For everyone al the White House, qualities 


Housekeeper Shirley Bender inspects a guest 
room. Photo by Joseph Scherschel, courtesy 
National Geographic Society 

of discretion and loyalty, the ability to 
adapt to the different st) les <>l su( cessive 
first families, and a willingness to perform 
multiple duties were key work skills. 
"Hear nothing, know nothing, sec noth- 
ing, and keep everything to yourself! 
That's the best quality of a good butler," 
said Alon/o Fields. "You've got to be flexi- 
ble," said former maitre d' Eugene Allen. 
"You cannot get set in your ways, bet ause 
your way is not the way it works!" 

At the White House, a spirit of mutu- 
al support and teamwork pervades the 
workplace. Employees from main differ- 
ent units join together on a regular basis 
to help each other prepare for special 
events or accomplish tasks in daily work 
routines. A prime example of this cooper- 
ative spirit is a State Dinner, which 
requires the coordinated efforts of chefs, 
doormen, butlers, florists, carpenters, 
ushers and main others. "Everyone works 
like a team," said part-time butler Nor- 
wood Williams: "You have a crew that 
comes in and moves furniture and sets up 
tables. You have the cleaning staff, the 

storer n person, the chefs, the flower shop. 

Even the carpenters' shop — they had to make 
some dl those tables. You know how everyone 
pitches in at a circus? That's the way it's done." 

W< irkers share sic >i ies < >l h< iw they help one 
another meet the diverse responsibilities oi theii 
unique workplace. Plumber Howard Arrington, 
lor example, proudly tells ol how he was able to 
assist a pastry chef by using his metal-woi king 
skills to craft .in elaborate structure to support 
Tricia Nixi m's wedding cake. 

Lillian Parks recounted .in expei ience with a 
related set ol themes. 

1 never knew from one day to the next 
what I'd be doing. One time, a fellow on 
the first floor said, 'We nvv<\ you down- 
stairs to sew a drapery in the Green Par- 
lor.' Well, I picked up my needle and 
thread and I went down there. So they 
had this 1 1-foot ladder in there, and the 
drapery in the ( Ireen Room — was up at 
i he lop — was coming off. Now, I went 
up the ladder — two Steps from tin- top 
— and all I had was this needle and 


thread to hold me up there. And the 
housekeeper looked in there, and sin- 
said. 'This I don'l want to see!' And she 
left. And Washington, the fellow who 
was holding the ladder, he had a cough- 
ing spell! He started to cough and he 
had to walk awa\ ....So you wonder why 
I'm still living! 

In rc< ollci tions b\ the household staff, 
themes ol home, family and tradition run strong. 
Employees often speak of themselves as a "fami- 
ly" and of the White I louse as a "second home." 
Main ol the workers .11 e related and have held 
jobs passed down through generations. As a 
i lose-knit occupational community, workers 
share skills, customs and traditions that grow out 
of common experience and that are shaped by 
the unique demands, pressures and conditions 
of the workplace. They tell stories with job-relat- 
ed themes — about how they came to work at 
the White House, their fust day on the job. their 
greatest challenges, funny incidents, memorable 
characters and relationships with first families. 
They share nicknaming traditions and take part 



in employee customs like the annual Christmas 
party, the golf team and staff reunions. "We had 
a lot of fun with nicknames," said Lillian Parks. 
"Melvin Carter, he was small, and everybody used 
to call him 'Squirt.' I was 'Maggie's Little Girl' or 
'Mama.' And Traphes was 'Paddlefoot' because 
he walked right flat-footed." "We had code 
names for the Presidents," writes Alonzo Fields 
in his published memoirs. "President Hoover, 
because he seldom smiled, we called 'Smiley.' 
President Roosevelt I gave the name 'Charlie 
Potatoes'.... President Truman, because of his 
outspoken manner, we coded as 'Billie Spunk.' 
Mr. Fields, himself, was nicknamed "Donald 
Duck" by the butlers who worked for him 
because of the way he sputtered and yelled when 
something went wrong. "We had a good time," 
said Lillian Parks. "People would say some of the 
funniest things, make you die. And e/o some 
funny things. There was never a dull day." 

At the White House, workers often pass 
along knowledge of work techniques and rou- 
tines, traditions of service and decorum, and 
other codes of behavior through word of mouth 
and by imitation and example. Experienced 
"old-timers" teach new generations of workers by 
telling stories and jokes, sharing personal experi- 
ence, and demonstrating work methods. A criti- 
cal body of accumulated knowledge and wisdom 

Eugene Allen, head butler and maitre d' at the White 
House for 34 years, sorts silverware in the pantry. Photo 
courtesy Gerald R. Ford Library 

resides in these workers who. over decades of 
change — as first families come and go — 
remain a key source of continuity at the White 
House. Acknowledged authorities on everything 
from where tea napkins are stored to how to wel- 
come visiting dignitaries, they provide a valuable 
link between past and present. "When a new 
administration comes in they're just as in the 
dark as anybody else — they don't know what to 
do. So as butlers, we have been there. We can 
kind of carry them along; we can help them 
along." said John Johnson, a butler at the White 
House for 30 years. And Lillian Parks related. 
"Alter I retired, the usher called me and said, 
'Lillian. I wish you'd come down here and 
straighten this house out!' It was all kind of 
mixed up.... You see, I grew up in there. I knew 
how things worked." Through traditions of 
teaching and learning, a culture of White House 
work is humanized, maintained and adapted. 
At the Festival, White House workers will 
come together to share their life and work with 
the public. Through their stories, values and 
experiences, they add a rich, human perspective 
to the historical record of a national institution. 

Furthei Readings 

Bruce, Preston. 1984. From the Door o/ the White House. 
New York: Lothrop, Lee and Shephard Books. 

Byington, Robert, ed. 1978. Working Americans: 
Contemporary Approaches to Occupational FoMife. 
Smithsonian Folklife Studies, no. 3. Washington, 
D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press. 

Fields, Alon/o. HMO. A/y 21 Years in the While Home. 
New York: Coward-McCann, Im . 

Haller, Henry. 1987. The White House Family Cookbook. 
New York: Random House. 

Johnson. Haynes and Frank [ohnston. 1975. The Work- 
ing While House. New York: Praeger Publishers. 

Parks. Lillian Rogers. 1961. A/y Thirty Years Backstairs at 
the White House. New York: Fleet Publishing Corpo- 

S.mtino, [ack. 1989. Miles of Smiles, Years of Struggle: 
Stories oj Black Pullman Porters. Urbana: University ol 

Illinois Press. 

Seale, William. 1986. The President's House. 2 vols. 

Washington, D.C.: While House Historical Assoc i.i- 
tion with the cooperation of the National Geo- 
graphic Soi iety. 


Workers at the White House 

A Photo Essay by Roland Freeman 

m "„„. 

It was just like a big family, a real big family. " 

- Lillian Rogers Parks 

In celebration of the 200th anniversary of the White House, the Festival of 
American Folklife presents a program about the occupational lives and folklore 
of White House workers. Through living presentations and demonstrations, this 
program reveals a human dimension of the White House, through the skills, 
values and experiences of the men and women who worked there. The follow- 
ing pages feature a few of the main employees — maids, butlers, engineers, 
chefs and others — who have helped to make the White House work and who 
will be sharing their lives and stories with visitors to the Festival. 

liuli i ml Freeman is a documentary photographer tuho does research in HI ml; culture throughout tin- African Diaspora. 
Since 1972, he has bee?i n field research photographer foi the Smithsonian \ Festival oj American Folklife. 



grew up in the 
White House. I was 12 
years old when I first started 
going there with my mother 
and I've been in and out of 
the White House ever since. " 

Lillian Rogers Parks, a 95- 
year-old former maid and 
seamstress, first began work- 
ing in the White House with 
her mother in 1909, during 
the Taft administration. 

'hen I was directing a 
dinner, I'd seat the President and 
step hark and then give a nod to 
the men to start the service. From 
then on I teas directing an orches- 
tra. I had my strings here and my 
wind instruments in the hack 
and I mas directing. And people 
would watch and they'd marvel 
at it, they really did. " 

Alonzo Fields, age 92, served as the 
chief butler and maitre d' at the White 
House for 21 years from the Hoover to 
the Eisenhower administration. 

Eugene Allen started working in 
the White House as a pantryman 
for President Truman in 1952 and 
rose through the ranks to become 
chief butler and maitre d'. He 
retired in 1986 after serving 34 
years with eight first families. 

1 he word doorman is a 
misnomer. I didn't run outside and 
open doi>>\ and that was it. I greet- 
ed you and welcomed \<>u to the 
White House. I made a show that I 
knew everyone that tame in. And 
that made them feel a lot better. " 

1 thought I knew how to serve, 
hut the White House is different. Other 
plates you ran make mistakes and you 
don 7 feel so had. hut you don 7 feel like 
making mistakes for the President and 

First Lady All that was in the hark 

oj your mind when you were selling up 
for any activity. " 

Preston Bruce, a sharecropper's 
son from South Carolina, served 
as a White House doorman from 
the Eisenhower to the Ford 


IVJLy job was to 
see that every floor was 
clean, every speck of dust 
was removed, that there 
was not a single flower 
petal on a mantle or table. 
And I was proud of that. 
I'd walk the House and 
walk and walk, just to 
make sure it was right. " 

Benjamin Harrison worked as a 
houseman for 32 years from the 
Eisenhower to the Reagan White 
House. He retired in 1988 as 
house foreman. 

Norwood Williams, a mail messenger 
from the Eisenhower to the Carter 
administration, still works as a part- 
time butler at the White House, a job 
he has performed for over 35 years. 

1 he messenger's job is to 
gel it there. We are the conveyor 
belts. I J they don V get it, they (tin 7 
act on it. " 




O V 




We chefs have a saying, 
'The guests must -wait //» the souffle. 
Bui at the Wliilc House, the souffle 
waits /in tlie guests. " 

Henry Haller, who served as 
executive chef from the Johnson 
to the Reagan administration, 
was known for his ability to adapt 
to the likes and dislikes of five 
different first families. 

1 line's no place like 
the White House. Ml the things 
\ini tin /in a family mil of your 
Inn- o/ work — anything they 
wanted, from fixing a pocket- 
book to moving furniture. " 

Former plumber Howard Arrington learned his 
trade in the White House, starting as a plumber's 
helper in 1946 and working his way up to become 
chief plumbing foreman, a position he held for 19 
of his 34 years of service. He is pictured here with 
his grandson, Russell Pellicot. 


When you first go to 
work at the White House, you are 
all eyeballs. Honestly, for the first 
month, your eyes are as big as 
teacups. You just elr/nk — you 're 
actually drinkingin history and 
current events. " 

Russell Free worked as an engineer from the Nixon to the 
Reagan administration. 

Samuel Ficklin worked as a part-time butler at the White 
House for half a century and served 10 presidents before 
retiring in 1991. His brothers, John and Charles Ficklin, 
were former White House maitre d's. 

Hi at makes me feel 
good is when people come back 
to the White House and they 
remember me. " 

a 1 


I ou start in a white 
rod l at the door. You just maybe 
pass a few drinks. }'<>u don 7 have 
enough skills to serve the tables or 
set a p. You have to gradually 
work up to tbat — before you ran 
put your tux on, be/ore you are 
considered a butler " 

William Bowen, a part-time butler, first 
started working at the White House with 
his father in 1957. Together they span 70 
years of service to first families. 

\_Jnc day you re an 
electrical expert, the next day 
you 're a plumbing expert, and 
('•oil only knows what you 'II be the 
day after that — in the usher's 
office you were involved in all 
phases oj the operation and main- 
tenance of that 132-room house. " 

Nelson Pierce worked as an assistant usher from the 
Kennedy to the Reagan administration. 


When I'd get in a cab 
and say, 'Take me to the White 
House, ' they 'd say, 'To the White 
House — at this time of night?' 
They thought I was telling a story. 
And they'd sit there and wait 'til 
I walked through the gate. " 

Sanford Fox, a master of protocol and social ceremony, 
worked as a calligrapher and head of the social entertain- 
ment office from Presidents Roosevelt to Ford. He carried on 
White House traditions that he learned from his predecessor 
and teacher, Adrian Tolley, who first joined the staff in 1915. 

Born and raised on his grandfather's farm near 
Lynchburg, Virginia, 80-year-old former butler 
Armstead Barnett lived at the White House for 
four years during the Roosevelt administration. 


LLdtuh family that comes in has 
their mini style, their own way of doing. 


1992 Festival of 
American Folklife 

June 25 -June 29 & July 2 -July 5 

General Information 

Festival Hours 

Opening ceremonies for the Festi- 
val will be held on the Main Music 
Stage in the Native American Musk 
area at 1 1 :00 a.m., Thursday, June 
25th. Thereafter, Festival hours will 
he 1 1:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. daily, with 
dance parties every evening from 
5:30 to 7:00 p.m., exceptjulv 4th. 

Horario del Festival 

La ceremonia de apertura al Festi- 
val se celebrara en el escenario del 
Programa de "Native American 
Music," el 25 de junio a las 1 1:00 
a.m. A partir de ese dfa, las hoi as del 
Festival scran de 1 1:00 a.m. a las 5:30 
'p.m. diariamente, con baile cada 
noche, excepto el 4 dejulio, de 5:30 
p.m. a 7:00 p.m. 


Traditional New Mexican. 
Jamaican and Native American food 
will be sold. See the site map lor 

A variety of crafts, hooks and 
Smithsonian/Folkways recordings 
relating to the 1992 Festival will be 
sold in the Museum Shop areas on 
the Festival site. 


Visiting members of the press 
should register at the Festival Press 
tent on the Mall near MadisonDrive 
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 Historv and Natur- 
al 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 
Administracion. Las unidades de 
salud en los museos de Historia 
Norteamerjcana y de Historia Natur- 
al 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 locat- 
ed neat all of the program areas on 
the Mall. Additional rest room facili- 
ties are available in each ofthe muse- 
um buildings during visiting hours. 

Public telephones are available on 
the site, opposite the Museums of 
.American History and Natural Histo- 
ry, and inside the museums. 

Lost and Found/Lost 
Children and Parents 

Lost items may be turned in or 
retrieved at the Volunteer tent in the 
Administration ana. Lost family 
members may be claimed at the Vol- 
unteer tent ajso. We advise putting a 
name tag on youngsters. 

Personas y 
objetos Perdido 

Las person. is que hayan perdido a 
sus ninos o a familiares pueden pasar 
por la carpa para voluntaries, en el 
area de la Administracion por ellos. 
Re< omendamos que los nifios Ueven 
puestos tarjeta de identification con 
sus nombres. Los objetos encontra- 
dos o extraviados podran entregarse 
o reclamarse 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 

Three sign language interpreters 
are on site every day at the Festival. 
Check the printed schedule and 
signs for interpreted programs. Oral 
interpreters are available lor individ- 
uals if a request is made three full 
days in advance. Call (202) 786-2414 
(TDD) or (202) 786-2942 (voice). 

I aige-print copies of the daily 
schedule and audiocassette versions 
of the program book and schedule 
art' available at Festival information 
kiosks and the Volunteer tent. 

Wheelchairs arc 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 
evening, 5:30-7:00, p.m., exceptjulv 
4th, at the Music Stage in the Native 
American Music area. 

Program Book 

Background information on the 
cultural traditions of New Mexico, 
the Maroons, White House workers 
and contemporary Native American 
music is available in the Festival of 
American Folklife Program Hook, on sale 
for $3.00 at the Festival site or- by 
mail from the Center for Folklife 
Programs and Cultural Studies. 
Smithsonian Institution, 955 
L'Enfant Plaza, S.W., Suite 2600, 
Washington, D.C. 20560. 

Participants in the 1992 
Festival of American Folklife 


New Mexico Crafts 

Charles Carrillo, santero - Santa 

Cordelia Coronado, weaver - 

Frances Naranjo DennisApotter - 
Santa Clara Pueblo 

Austin "Slim" Green, saddle- 
maker - Tesuque 

Sam Leyba, muralist - Santa Fe 

Felix Lopez, santero - Santa Fe 

Irene Lopez, weaver - Espanola 

Jose Benjamin Lope/, santero - 

Jerome Lujan, santero - Santa Fe 

Deana McGuffin, bootmaker - 

Wilberto Miera, adobe 

worker/furniture maker - 
Santa Fe 

Patricio Mora; pano artist - 

Madelyn Naranjo, potter -Santa 
Clara Pueblo 

Felipe Ortega, potter/cook - La 

Alberto Parra, adobe worker - 

Carolina Paz, potter/quiote 
make'r - Tortugas 

• Lydia Pesata, basketmaker/ 
storyteller - Dulce 

Eliseo Rodriguez, straw applique 
. - Santa Fe 

Paula Rodriguez, straw applique 
- Santa Fe 

Tim Roybal, furniture maker - 

Bonifacio Sandoval, tinworker- 
Santa Fe 

Thelnia Sheche, fetish carver - 
Zuni Pueblo 

Ada Suina, potter - Cochiti 

Elizabeth Taliman, bead- 
worker/cook - Santa Fe 

Carmen Romero Velarde, adobe 
worker/cook - Ranchos de 

Priscilla Vigil, potter/cook/ 
storyteller - Tesuque 

Maria Vergara Wilson, colcha 
embroiderer - La Madera 

Home and Garden 

Paulette Atencio, storyteller - 

Alice Hoppes, cook - 

Edward Kretek. cook - Deming v 

Geraldine Kretek, cook - 

Gertrude Kretek, cook - Deming 

Consuelo Martinez, curandera - 

Elizabeth Taliman, cook/bead- 
worker - Santa Fe -, 

Macloyia Zamora, cook - 


Ganados del Valle 

Estafanita Martinez, weaver - 
Tiera Amarilla 

Norma Martinez, weaver - 

Sophie Martinez, weaver - Tierra 

Nena Russan, weaver - Chama 

Ramah Navajo Sheep Camp 
Katie C. Henio - Ramah „ 

Samuel Henio - Pine Hill ' 
Annie L. Pino - Ramah 
Lorraine Wayne --Ramah 

Mountain Spirit Dancers 
Freddy Apache, dancer -""" = 

Abraham Chee, dancer/drum- 
maker - Mescalaro 

Nathaniel Chee, Sr., 

drummer/singer - Mescalaro 

Nathaniel Chee, Jr., dancer - 

Samuel Chee, dancer/drum- 
maker - Mescalaro 

Joseph Geronimo, drummer/ 
singer/drummaker - 

Philip Pike, dancer- Mescalaro 

Jose Castro, charro - La Mesa 

Thelma Castro, charro - La Mesa 

Banjo Garcia, camp cook - 
Continental Divide 

Cindy Jo Gainer Graham, ranch 
skills -Tatum- 

R.W. Hampton, ranch skills/gui- 
tarist/vocalist - Sedan 

James Keith, farrier/blacksmith 
- Tucumcari 

Pete Lewis, ranch skills/fiddler - 


Antonia Apodaca, accordion/ 
vocals - Rociada 

Fernando Cellicion, flute - Zuni 

Vodra Dorn, vocals - 

William Dorn, vocals/sermon 
1 traditions - Albuquerque 

Juan Manuel Flores, guitar -Las 

J.P. Lewis, guitar - Dell City 

Charla Nettleton, bass - Mesilla 

Cleofes Ortiz, fiddle - 

Buster Payne, fiddle - Eunice 

Floyd Trujillo, vocals/bone- 
carver- Abiquiu 

Gretchen Van Houton, fiddle - 

Cipriano Vigil, guitar/fiddle/ 
vocals - Tesuque Pueblo 

Johnny Whelan, guitar/ poetry - 
Las Cruces 

Luther Whelan, harmonica/ 
* bass/poetry - Las Cruces 

Los Alegres 

Frank Jaramillo, bass - Ranchos 
de Taos 

Julia Jaramillo, mandolin - 
Ranchos de Taos 

Pablo Trujillo, bass - Ranchos de 

Los Reyes de Albuquerque 

Miguel Archibeque, guitar/ 
vocals - Albuquerque 

Isidro Chavez, guitar - 

Ray Flores, trumpet - 

Lorenzo Martinez, violin - 

Roberto Martinez, vihuela/gui- 
tar/vocals - Albuquerque 

Angela Perez, violin - 

Plaza Dancers 

Los Bernalillo Matachines 
Theresa Acosta, dancer - 

Charles J. Aguilar, violin - 


Ralph Chavez, dancer - 

John Crespin, dancer - 

Jocelyn Duran, dancer - 

Joseph R. Garcia, dancer - 

Eddie D. Gutierrez, dancer - 

Leroy J. Lovato, dancer - 

Laurence Lucero, dancer - 

Phillip Montano, dancer" 

Leonard Prairie, dancer - 

Melanie Wiggins, dancer - 

Los Comanches de la Serna 
David Antonio Gonzales, dancer 
- Ranchos de Taos 

Francisco Gonzales, singer/ 
dancer - Ranchos de Taos 

Moises Romero, dancer - 
Ranchos de Taos 

Julian Struck, dancer - Ranchos 
de Taos 

Concha Dancers 
Adeline Concha, dancer/bead- 
worker - Taos Pueblo 

Benito Concha, 

drummer/flautist/dancer - 
Taos Pueblo 

Celestina Concha, dancer/bead- 
worker - Taos Pueblo 

Jodie Concha, dancer/bead- 
worker - Taos Pueblo 

Michelle Concha, dancer/bead- 
worker - Taos Pueblo 

Mike Concha, vocals/drum- 
mer/dancer - Taos Pueblo 

Nicolas Concha, dancer - Taos 
• Pueblo 

Donna Sandoval, dancer/bead- 
worker - Taos Pueblo 

Sonny Spruce, dancer - Taos 
. Pueblo 

Bransen Velarde, dancer - Taos 


Colombia Palenqueros 

Rafael Cassiaini Cassiani, 

Cristobalina Estrada Valdez, 
singer dancer 

Gabino Hernandez Palomino, 
oral historian 

Lorenzo Manuel Miranda 
Torres, drummer/ dancer/ 

Gra'ciela Salgado Valdez, drum- 

Dolores Salinas de ( -m eres, 
singer dancer 

Maximo Torres Berrio, drum- 
mei drummaker/ singer 

|osr Valdez Simanca, marimbu- 
la player/ craftsman/story- 


|uan Garcia, oral historian/ 

French Guiana Aluku 
(Boni) Maroons 

( .unman [osephjoax him 
Adochini, Paramount Chief. 
01 .il historian 

Cecilon Anabi, basketmakei 
kwakwa playei 

Adolphe Anelli, drummer/ 
agwado playei singei story- 

( li.ii les Anelli, dam er 
Romain Ball'a, drummer singer 
Charles Cazal, (hummer/ 

dancer 'singer agwado play- 
ei flute player 

Agne"s Ceguy, hairbraider 
singer cook 

Thomas Doudou, dancer 

Marcel Dove, dancer/singer 

Sam. icon Doye, basketmakei 
woodcarver/dancer drurri- 

Analia Kondokou, calabash 
carver ■'dancer/cook 

Simon kouakou. dancer 'flute 

Antoine l.anioraille. woodcarver 

Marie Celine Lobi, hair- 
braidei dancer 

Stanislas dancer kwakwa 

Sephiro Mais, singer dancer 

Saneti Sacapou, singer/cook 

1 ouis Topo, oral historian 
drummer/ singer/ dan< ei 

Jamaica Accompong 
Town Maroons 

( iei irge I luggins, drummakei 
calabash < arver 

Ken el Mi Kenzie, singer 
dancer 'drummer 

Neville Nh Leggon, abeng 
blowei cook drummer 

Edwin Peddie, gumbe drummer 

Rosalie Roue, singer/ dancer 

Alrena Wright, singei 

Colonel Ml.. Wright, Chief, 
oral historian singer 

Jamaica Moore 
Town Maroons 

Majoi ( lis Aarons, 
drummer/ dancer/ 
jerk spci ialist/ 
herbalist abeng 

Hermine Daure, dam er 
singer/ cook/ craftsperson 

Matiha Downer, dancer/ 
singei cook 

Colonel C.I..C. Harris, Chief, 
oral historian 

George Harris, drummei 

drummaker/ jerk specialist/ 
thatcher/carver/ abeng 

blower/mat makei 

Edith Myers, cook dancer 

Emmanuel Palmer, 
blowei calabash carver 

Carl Patterson, dancei animal 

Mexico Costa Chica 

Melquiades Dominguez 
Guzman, storyteller 

Allan ( i.i Man ial, singei 

Tiburcio Noyola Rodriguez, 

Suriname Ndjuka 

( .unman (.a/on Matodja, 

Paramount Chief, oral histo- 

Baja Kalenga Gason, boat- 


Badjan Kelion, hunting &: fish- 
ing skills/drummer/story- 

Albert Koejoe Dosoe, dancer 

Sentele Molly, animal trap- 
oral historian 

|omena Sibe. cook/dancer/ 
singer/ fieedleworker/hair- 


Modillie Siemie, cook/house 
decoratoi /hairbraider/ 

Suriname Saramaka " 

Granman Songo Aboikonie, 

Paramount Chief, oral histo- 

Adwingie Aboikoni, drummer/ 
singei '(lumber ' story- 
telled w Icarver 

Djangilie Amoesi. hunting & 
fishing skills/thatcher/ 
dancer/ wrestler /basket- 

Aniekil Awardie, 

woodi arver drummer 
dancei singer 

Edoe Eduard Bobby, fish trap- 
per/ thatcher/drummer/ 
dancer singer 

Patricia Main, cook/dancer/ 
house decorator/ hair- 

Alisetie Ngwete, cook/dancer/ 
singer calabash carvel 
house decorator/ hair- 
braider textile artist i , ill- 
band maker 

Akoemajajo Pansa, cook/ 
dam er singer/calabash 
carver 'textile artist i all- 
band maker hairbraider 

Kajanasieh Saakie, 

cook 'dancer/ singer/cal- 
abash carver/house decora- 
toi textile artist calfband 

Texas Seminole Maroons 

Alice Fay Lqzano, cook - Del Rio 

Ethel Warrior, cook - Del Rio 

William "Dub" Warrior, story- 
teller - Del Rio 

Charles Emily Wilson, story- 
teller - Brackettville 


Akwesasne Singers -Mohawk 

Brad Bonaparte, cowhorn rattle 

- Akwesasne Mohawk Nation 

Mike McDonald, water drum - 
Akwesasne Mohawk Nation 

Kai iwate Mitchell, cowhorn rat- 
tle - Akwesasne Mohawk 

Aronjenens Porter, cowhorn 
rattle- Akwesasne Mohawk 

Cherokee Indian Baptist Choir 

J.B. Dreadfulwater, director/ 
tenor - Tahlequah, 


Louise Dreadfulwater, soprano - 
Tahlequah, Oklahoma 

Georgia Glass, soprano - 
Stillwell, Oklahoma 

John Goodrich, bass - Stillwell, 

Florence Hummingbird, alto - 
Stillwell, Oklahoma 

Louise Lacey, soprano - Rose, 

Joanne MrLemore, alto - 
Stillwell, Oklahoma 

Sanders McLemore, lead singer 

- Stillwell, Oklahoma 

Laroue Miles, alto - Stillwell, 

Mose Sanders, bass - Kansas, 

Fiddle Styles 

Lionel Desjarlais, guitar - 
Winnipeg, Manitoba 

Lawrence Houle, Manitoba fid- 
dle - Winnipeg, Manitoba 

Brian Johnson, Turtle 

Mountain fiddle - Belcourt, 
'North Dakota 

Todd Martell, guitar - Belcourt, 
North Dakota 

Bill Stevens, Yukon fiddle - 
Fairbanks. Alaska 

Francis Williams, guitar - 
Fairbanks, Alaska 

Alex Gomez Band -Waila 
Music ("Chicken Scratch") 

Albert Alvarez, accordion - 
Tucson, Arizona 

Roger Carlos, lead guitar - 
Tucson, Arizona 

Alex Gomez, saxophone - 
Coolidge, Arizona 

Timothy Gomez, drums/accor- 
dion - Coolidge; Arizona 

Dennis Lopez, bass guitar - 
Tucson, Arizona 

Lucious Vavages, drums/ accor- 
dion - Topavva, Arizona 

Nicaragua!! Marimba Group 
( larlos Palacio, guitar 
[uan I'alai io, guitarilla 
Manuel Palacio, marimba 

White Boy and the Wagon 
Burners -Blues/Rock 

Dugan Henhawk, saxophone, 
vocals - Nedrow, New York 

John "Kapp" Kappusniak, key- 
boards - Nedrow. New York 

Kent Lyons, bass guitar- 
Nedrow, New York 

Rex Lyons, guitar- Nedrow, 
New York 

Phil Regan, drums - Syracuse, 
New York 

Solo Performers 

Sharon Burch, guitar - Santa 
Rosa, California 

Vincent Craig, guitar/ harmoni- 
ca - Window Rock, Arizona 

Brent Michael Davids, compos- 
er/flautist - Tempe, Arizona 

Murray Porter, keyboards - 
Ohsweken Reserve, Ontario 


Eugene Allen, head butler" 
maitre d' - Washington, D.C. 

Man 1 Anderson, pantry worker - 
Hillcrest Heights, Mankind 

Russell Armentrout, head. 
Social Entertainment Office 
- Silver Spring, Man land 

Alphadine Arlington, records 
and documentation. Gift 
Unit - Myrtle Beach, South 

Bonner Arlington, carpenter 
foreman - Myrtle Beach, 
South Carolina 

Howard Arrington, plumbing 
foreman - Edgewater, 

Armstead Barnett, butler - 
Washington, D.C. 

Gerald Behn, secret service 
agent - McLean, Virginia 

William Bowen, part-time butler 
-Washington, D.< ',. 

Preston Bruce, doorman - 
Washington, D.C. 

Kenneth Burke, inspector/ 
White House Polii <■ - 
Bradenton, Florida 

Sean Callahan, stone cutter and 
carvet - Silver Spring. 

Peter "Billy" Cleland, stone 
mason - Clinton, Man-land 

Raymond Cleland, stone cutter 
and carver - North Beach, 

|. Woodson Ficklin, houseman - 

Largo, Maryland 
John Wrory Ficklin, part-time 

pantryman - Bowie, 


Samuel Ficklin, part-time butler 
-Washington, D.C. 

Alonzo Fields, chief but lei 
maitre d' - Medford, 


Sanford Fox, head. Social 
Entertainment Office - 


Russell Free, engineer - 
Arlington, Virginia 

Arthur Godfrey, Secret Service 
agent - Temple Hills, 

Henry Haller, executive chef - 
Potomac, Maryland 

Robert Harmon, part-time but- 
ler - Washington, D.C. 

Benjamin Harrison, houseman - 
Washington, D.( '.. 

James Jeffries, Sr., part-time but- 
ler - Washington, D.C. 

James Jeffries, Jr., part-time but- 
ler - Washington, D.C. 

John Johnson, butler - 
Washington, D.C. 

James R. Ketchum, curator - 
Washington, p.C. 

Flossie Malachi, pantry worker - 
Washington, D.C. 

Lillian Rogers Parks, seam- 
stress/maid - Washington, 

Nelson Pierce, assistant usher - 
Arlington, Virginia 

Patrick Plunkett, stone cutter 
and carver - Takoma Park, 

David Roberts, stone cutter and 
carver - Rockville, Mankind 

William F. Ruback, assistant 
hortic'ulturalist - South 
Bethany, Delaware 

Lewis Simmons, chief engineer - 
Myrtle Beach, South 

William Stephenson, part-time 
butler - Washington, D.C. 

Norwood Williams, mail mes- 
senger/part-time butler - 
Washington, D.C. 

Philip Uhl, stone cutter and 
can'er - Silver Spring, 

Elmer "Rusty" Young, chief flo- 
ral designer - Williamsburg, 


New Mexico has been made possible with the 
support <>l the State of New Mexico, with 
the collaboration oi the Department of 
Tourism, the Office of Cultural Affairs, the 
New Mexico Arts Division, the Museum of 
International Folk Art and with the assis- 
tance ol the Tourism Association ol New 
Mexico, The ( lo< a ( lola ( lompany, ( lolgate- 
Palmolive, Sally Wagnei and Chama Vallej 

Creativity and Resistance: Minium Culturein 
the Americas has been made possible with 
the support ol the governments ol ( Colom- 
bia. French Guiana, [amaica, Suriname, 
and Guerrero, Mexico; the Texas Commis- 
sion on the Arts; Texas Folklife Resourt es; 
Suriname Airways; Air [amaica; CamiHe O. 
and William H. Cosby, [r.; Inter-American 
Foundation; Assoc iadon Mi Sa I ibi; Le 
Conseil Regional de Guyane Francaise; La 
Mairie de Maripasoula; rraquen'Art; and 
the Smithsonian's Educational Outreach 
Fund. International Centei . Ana< 1 imu 
Museum, and National Museum ol Amei i- 
can History. 

The Changing SoundScape in Indian Country, 
i o-sponsoi r«l In [he Smithsonian Institu- 
tion's National Museum ol [he Amei u an 
Indian, has been made possible with the 
support of the Music Performance husi 
Funds and die government of Nicaragua. 

Workers ul the White House has been made 
possible through the collaboration oi the 

While I louse I listoric a I Association which 
has rei eived funding from the National 
Endowment lor the Humanities, and the 
support ol tin- |ohnson Foundation (Trust) 
and the Smithsonian Institution Special 
Exhibition Fund. 

In Kind 

General Festival Support 
1UII Atlantic Paging, Washington, DC 
Bell Haven Pharmacy, Alexandria. VA 
Ben and [erry's he Cream, Waterbury, VT 
Campbell Soup Company 
Celestial Seasonings, Inc.; Boulder, CO 
Computet Tee h Servit es, In< ., Fan fax, VA 
Dunkin Doughnuts, Fairfax Circle, VA 
Duron Paint, Washington, DC 
Embass) c lare Drug ( lentei . In< ., Washing- 
ton, DC 
Embassy High's Dairy, Waldorf, MD 
Faxl.and ( Corporation. Falls < Church, VA 

C.E Fighting 

Glidden Paint. Alexandria, VA 
Herr Food, Inc., Elkridge, MD 
Knsp\ Creme Doughnut Company, Alexan- 
dria. VA 
Little < leasars Pizza 

McCreach Marketing Co., Columbia, MD 
Shamrock Supph Co., Alexandria, VA 
Shurefire Distributors, Washington, DC 
Snyders oi Hanover, Hanover, PA 
Steel and Wire Company, Baltimore, MD 
Sugai Association, Inc., Washington, IK 
It/ Quality Foods, Inc., Hanover, PA 
Weber-Stephen Products Co., Palaiine, IL 
Wilkens Coffee, Capitol Heights, MD 
William 11. Riley Coffee Company, 
Baltimore, MD 

New Mexico 

Blai ksmiths' Guild ol the Potomac 

Botanic al Gardens, Washington, DC 

Conrail, Inc., Philadelphia. PA 

Finney Frock Welding, Olney, MD 

Fisher's Hardware, Springfield, VA 

Santa Fe Railway, Schaumourg, IF 

rand) Leather Company, Fort Worth, FX 

Creativity and Resistance: Maroon 

Culture in tin Americas 

Bacardi Impoi is, Miami, Fl . 

( Capital ( Computer ( Corporation, Fairfax. VA 

(Cutlets ( Ceramic s, Beltsville, MD 

I \\ Woolworth, Washington, IK c 

Pearl An & ( a all Supplies, Ini . Roc k\ille. 

Whr. n & Nephew White Overprool Rum. 

Kingston, (amaica 

Workers at the White House 
Brooks Brothers, Washington, DC 
Canales Quality Meats, Washington, DC 
National Geographic Society, 

Washington. IK C 
Society ol American Florists. Alexandria. VA 

Special Thanks 

General Festival 

We extend spec ial thanks to all the volun- 
teers .11 iliis year's Festival. Only with their 
assistant e .11 e we able to present the pro- 
grams ol the 1992 Festival ol American 


Folklore Society ofGreatei Washington 
George Haas, |r., Lisa Lumber (Co. 
Lisa I laas. Lisa Lumber ( Co. 

New Mexico 
J. Mac k Adams 
Mat slia Adams 
(Clara Apodaca 
Manny Aragon 
Estevan Arellano 
Howard Bass 
Senatoi Jeff Bingaman 
George & Robin Borden 

Bill Bridges 

Charles Carrillo and Family 

Mike Cerletti 

I larc ild Closter 

(Cobblestone Publishing, Inc. 

Dell City Telephone (Co-op 

Senatoi Pete V. Domenici 

Dana Evert 

Lisa Falk 

Patrick Finn 

Margaret Cue 1.1 

Maureen (ion/ales 

Richard Groff, Groff Lumber 

Wendell (.roll. ( .loll Lumber 

[ames I lalligan 

Elbvs Hugar, Mescalaro Apache Cultural 

Myra Ellen Jenkins 
Theodore [ojola 

Diane Jones. Upperville Horse Show 
( lovernor Bru< e King 
Alice King 

Richard l.evine. New Mexico Earth 
Ben I ujan 
Bert Lvlel 
Vishu Megee 
Manuel Melende/ - 
'Leo Mondragon, Town ol Taos 
Museum of Albuquerque 

Ellen Landis 

[ames Moore 

( Chris Steiner 
Museum ol Indian Ails & ( Culture 

Steve Bee hei 

Bruce Bernstein 
Museum of International Folk Ait 

Charlene ( lei n\ 

[oy< e Ice 

|uclnli 1 I .okenvitz 

Judy Sellars 

( Carol Bteiro 
I essic N.n anji 1 

New Mexico Communit) Foundation 
New Mexico State University 
Jim ( )siUi 

Susan OttO-Diniz, Art in Schools, Inc. 
Pueblo ol Zuni 
Rain. 1I1 Navajo ( Chapter 

S.n ah Aclek\ 

Yin-Ma) 1 c c 
Orlando Romero 
Fred Salas 
M.u iI.mi Salvadore 
Ra\ Sane he/ 
Alan Sandler, American Institute ol Archi- 

te< Is Foundation 
Jim Sigura 

Congressman Joe Skeen 
Claude Stephenson 
Lonn Taylor 
Taos Fligh School 

l.a/aro A. Cardenas. Instructor 

Regina Archuleta 

hen Benavidez 

Tim Casias 

Kylee Eagan 

Anthon) Martinez 

David Martini/ 

Jose Marline/ 

[a< kie Medina 

Matthew Medina . 

Allied Montoya 

Herman Olguin 

Cindy Salazar 

Dominic Salazar ^. 

Raul Sanchez 

Jaimie Torrez 

Matthew Torres 

Leroy Vargas 

Geneve Vigil 
Marge Terry, Taos County Chamber of 

Norbert Ubechel, Southwest Spiral Design, 

Taos, NM 
Rose Wyaco 
Richard Zuniga 

Creativity and Resistance. Maroon 

Culture in the Americas 

Aiitoine Abienso 

Edimilson de Almeida Pererra 

Glenn Alvares, Counselor, Embassy of Suri- 

Serge Anelli 

Frank Antonius 

Michael Auld, Ellington School for the Arts 

Keith E. Baird 

Rebecca Bateman 

John Paul Batiste, Director, Texas Commis- 
sion on the Arts 

Francine Berkowitz 

Richard Bernal, Ambassador, Embassy of 

Margaret Bernal 

Valeria Bilbv 


Bernhard Bisoina 

Peggy Blechman 

Gary Brana-Shute 

)oel Brokaw 

Devon Brown 

Hillary de Bruin 

Roy S. Bryce-Laporte 

l.onnie Bunch 


Lucilda Dassardo Cooper 

Camille O. Cosby 

William H. Cosby.Jr. 

Judith Cayo Cotter 

Gerald Croney 

Patricia Croney 

Martha Ellen Davis 

Daniel Dawson 

Thomas Dondou, President, Association Mi 

Sa Libi 
David Driskell 

Duke Ellington School for the Arts 
James Early 
Clair Elcock 
Henry E. Elcock 
A. Barclay Ewart 
Leasa Farrar-Frazer 
Barbara Faust 
Filmore Arts Center 

Pat Mitchell, Director 

Harriet W. Lesser 

Lisa Smith 
John Franklin 
Adiante Franszoon 
Christraud Geary 

Joaquin Gonzales Casanova, Minister for 

Cultural Affairs, Embassy of Mexico 
Diane Greene 
Silvia de Groot 
James R. Gundlach.Jr. 
Miguel Angel Gutierrez Avila, Institute) de 

Investigation Cientifica 
Beverly Hall-Alleyne 
Ian Hancock 
Avis Harris 
Malinali Meza Herrera, Director, Instituto 

Guerrerense de Cultura 
William Holmes, United States Information 

Service, Kingston, Jamaica 
John Homiak 
George Huttar 
Vera Hyatt 
Ricardo Infante 
Patricia Jasper 
Niani Kilkenny 
Charles Kleymeyer 
Asanteman Kuo 
Jane Landers 
Hermes R. M. Libretto, Sipaliwini District 

Commissioner, Suriname 
Eileen Lorenz, Montgomery County 

Daniel Machine 
Stanley Main 
Hazel McClune 
John McDowell 
Bryan McFarlane 
Dennis Medina 

Lie. Pascual Hernandez Mergoldd 
Jefferson Miller 
Ministerie van Onderwijs en Volksontwik- 

Veling, Afdeling Kultuurstudies, Suri- 
Loren/o Manuel Miranda Torres 
|odv Morgan 
Athala Morris, Press & Information 

Attache, Embassy of Colombia 
Gloria Moura 
Gorgtii N'Diave 
Rex Nettleford 

Steven Newsome , 

Andre Pakosie 

Nubia Pereira de Magalhaes Gomes 
Jacqui Peters, National Black Arts Festival. 

Atlanta, Georgia 
Peter Pipim 
Mark Plotkin 
Heliana Portes de Roux 
Sharon Reinckens 
David Riggs 
Eric Rosen 
Doran Ross, UCLA Museum of Cultural 

Deborah Rothberg 
Maureen Rowe, Director, African 

Caribbean Institute of Jamaica/ 

Jamaica Memory Bank 
Jose Francisco Ruiz Massieu, Governor of 

Guerrero, Mexico 
Ben Scholtens 
Armin Schwegler 
Daniel Sheehy 
Holly Shimizu 
Lionel Silas 

James Smith, USDA 

Michelle Smith 

Ronald Smith 

Cal Southvvorth 

Nicholas Spitzer 

Evan Stoddard 

Surinaams Museum 

Dhiru Tanna 

Laura Tanna 

Ashley Taylor 

Johannes Tojo 

Gloria Triana . 

U.S. Department of State 

Victor Bonilla 

Barbara Euser 

Robert Kein 

Roy Sullivan 
Vereniging Kifoko 
Julie Wechsler 
1 Jomo Wilson 
Benjamin Yepez 
Werner Zips 

The Changing Soundscape in 

Indian Country 

Valerie Bell, Onondaga County Parks &.- 

Benjamin Bennett, Navajo Nation Fair 

Gordon Bird and Family 
Charles Brill 
Flying Fish Records 
Ray Gonyea, Institute of American 

Indian Arts 
Jim Griffith 

Tony Isaacs, Indian House Records 
Guy Logsdon 

Muscogee (Creek) Nation of Oklahoma 
Fred Nahwooksy 
Richard Puchyi 

Sonia Roa, Embassy of Nicaragua 
T.M. Scruggs 
Slate Historical Society of Wisconsin 

Workers at the While House 

Maria Downs 

FrederickJ. Lindstrom, Architect, Historic 

American Buildings Survey 
National Geographic Society 

Allen Carroll 

Leah Roberts 
Philip Scott, Archivist, Lyndon Baines John- 
son Library, Austin, Texas 
Society of American Florists 

Drew Gruenburg 

Linda Luniewski 
The White House 

William Airman 

Angela Horton 

Betty Monkman, Associate Curator 

Rex Scouten, Curator 

Lydia Tederick 

Gary Walters, Chief Usher 
White House Historical Association 

Ruth Corcoran 

Bernard Meyer, Executive Vice Presi- 

Thursday, June 25 





Music Stage 




Canip Fire 



Pueblo Feasl 



\|xni.u a, < leofes 
< )rtiz, < lipriano 

Spanish Colonial 



Cellic ion: 


Zuni Pueblo 


1 OS 

M.ii.k hines 

Af 1 1< an- 

Amei i< .m 



( h.n reada 
1 1 aditii »ns 

William & 

Vondra Dom: 

( kispel 


|uan Flores & 



\lusn .i de la 


( aieHfos: 

Stories from 

the Rio 

Grande Valley 


I raditions 

( looking 

[ohnny & 

I. nihil Whelan: 

Musi* a de los 


l.H is I'uchli i 

( !on< ha Family 
Dam ers 


1 1 aditions 


Los Alegn s: 

Musk a de los 
\ iejos 


( luentos: 

Stones from the 

Rio Grande 



Expressions < >t 

[uan Floi es & 

( hai la 


Mush ,i de la 



( lamp ( lot iking 

Fiddle Styles 


\p.i< he 
Mountain Spii il 



I .ins Pueblo 

Com ha Famil} 


Los Mata( limes 

Horno ^-^ 
( '.< loking: 
Feast Da) 
( lookies 


( lelli< ion: 


Zuni Pueblo 

1 [orsemanshi] > 

Los Reyes de 

Crafl Revivalism 

& Public 


[ndo-I lispank 


Mes( alero 

Mountain S|>n n 
Dane ci s 

"Americ an Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New Mexico's cultures, is open to the public 
in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
Vmerican History: 





Music Stage 



( ci emony 


( Iherokee 1 [ymn 

Alex Gomez 


O'odham Waila 

Musii < "< liu ken 

s, ratch") 

Protest Songs 


< Iherokee 

Indian Baptisl 



Brent Michael 
1 lavids: Mohi( an 

( Composer 


\i< araguan 



Mohawk Musii al 


Promotion & 


\i. aragua 
Marimba Trio 

1 1 adidi "is 


Fiddle Styles 

Manitoba < >jibwa) 

Mitchil Turtle 




( llassif al Music 

Vincent Craig: 

Guitarist Singer 


White Boy & the 

Wagon Burners: 


Blues Ro( k 


Sa< red, Seculai 




Alex Gomez 

Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are marked 
with the symbol S± . 










Music and 
Dance Area 

Sexteto Son 


( lolombian 

Maroon Music 

& Dance 

Ndjuka Music & 

Dance from 



Mai OOn Musk 
8c Dance 

Mexican ^^ 
Maroon Music 

Moore Town: 

Maroon Music 
& Dance 


Mush & Dance 

Saramaka Music 

& Dance from 



Maroon Music 

Aluku Music & 

Dam e from the 



Kuutu Osu 

Greetings & 

Opening ( alls; 

Drums 8c Abeng 


Stories of the 
Seminole- Scouts 

Maroon Stories 
from E( u.mI. ii 

Traditions ol 


Anansi Stories 
from the 



Workshop on 


Maroon Healing 
Arts Workshop 




Plav Jamaican 
Maroon < lames 

Saramaka Wood 
< aning 

Try Guianese 
Mush 8c Dance 

I earn to Make a 

Plaited \ : .m 


Colombia Area: 

Drum Repair, 

Plaited & Woven 


"Trampas" & 

"[aulas," Rice 


1 1 apmaking* 

Guianas Area: 

Stitcherv, Wood 
Carving, House 


Painted House 

1 ><■( (tration. 

Plaited Hair 





■ Baskein , 


Trap Making, 




Pro essing & 

Prepai ing 

( lassava, Ri< e 



Seminole Area: 
Do( umenling 
F.imih History, 
Cowboy Skills, 
( lavalry Skills, 

Jamaica Area: 

Dr ummaking & 

Repair, Making 
Bird & Fish 

Ii aps, \V< ii king 

with Fiber, 


Mexico Area: 




M. m Area: 

_ ( looking with 
( loi n: Suffki 

( iuianas Area: 

Cooking with 


Colombia Area: 


< i >< tking with 

( lornmeal 

Jamaican Ginger 
Beer Making 



** 12:00 - 12:30 - Guianas Area - House dressing from the Guianas 
* 3:00 - 3:30 - Colombia Area - Trapjnaking 









bv stone cutters 
and carvei s cur- 
rently working 
to restore the 
While House 



Narrative ses- 
sions with 
While House 
workers on: tra- 
ditions of 
teat lung and 
learning, skills 
and working 
dailv tasks and 
special events, 
teamwork, sto- 
ries and cus- 
toms, relation- 
ships with first 
families, fellow 
workers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and 
social changes 
affecting work- 
er culture 

Narrative ses- 
sions at the 
following time; 
will be sign- 

1 15-5:30 

Friday, June 26 







I .>s Matachines 


I aos Pueblo 
( <<iu ha Family 
., Dancers 

William & 

Vondra Dorn 


1 i. Millions 

1 i is Matachines 




Zuni Pueblo 

Taos Pueblo 

( loncha Family 

Dan< ei s 


( looking wiili 
( Ireen Chile 

Cooking in the 


( /(i h- American 
< looking 

( lochiti Pueblo 
( looking 

lndo-1 lispanii 


\liu.m- X 

Allltl H .111 

( looking 

resuque Pueblo 
( looking 

Music Stage 

Los Reyes de 

|ollIIII\ 8c 

Luthei Whelan: 

Musk a de los 
Vaquei i »s 

Juan Flores & 



Mush a de la 




( lleofes Ortiz, 

( lipriano Vigil; 

( li ili nihil Music 

joluun & 
Luther Whelan: 

Musk ,i de los 

I mI< lie Styles 

Los Alegres: 

Musi* .i de los 

Viej< is 

fuan Flores & 



Mush ,i de la 



( Jul reada 

I r. Millions 

Mesi .ili 1. 1 
\|i.k he 

M. mill. Mil 

Spirit Dan< ers 

I li >i semanship 

Chai reada 
1 1 aditions 

M.-s. alero 

\|».m he 


Spiril I >ani ei s 

R.UH h 

IradiiM m 



Camp Fire 

( Izech- 

Americ an 

Community in 

New Mexi< o 

William c^- 

\ i indi a l>< u r 

( Gospel 



Wi irkshop: 


1 1 .iiliiM ms 

( lathering 


( lellit ion 


Zuni Pueblo 

li turists and 

I i, Millions 

( lamp Fire 


Stories from 

the Rio Grande 


( '.hat reada 

"American Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New Mexico's cultures, is open to the pub- 
lic in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
American History. 


Music Stage 


Cherokee Indian 
Baptist Choir 




Nil aragua 
Mai imba Trio 

Constru< tioh 


White Bo) & the 

Wagi >n Burners: 


Hlucs 'Rock 

Marketing: The 

Re< ording 



Fiddle Styles: 
Manitoba t >jibwa) 

Miti Inl turtle 


Athabaskan Yukon 

( I.issm al Music 

Vincent Craig: 

Guitarist Singed 


1 laditions 


Brent Mi< hael 
Davids: Mohican 
Flautist < lomposei 

Nil araguan 



Mohawk Musical 



Cherokee Hymn 


Murray Porter: 

( >neida 




Sacred Secular 


Alex ( iOiiK/ 


O'odham Waila 

Musu ("Chicken 


Protest Songs 



White Boy & 

the Wagi mi 



Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are marked 
with the symbol ^ . 










Music and 
Dance Area 

Moore Town: 


Maroon Music 

&- Dance 

Music & Dance 
from the 



Music 8c Dance 



Maroon Music 

8c Dance 


Maroon Music 

Ndjuka Music 

&: Dance from 


Music & Dance 
from Suriname 



Jawbone Music 

Colombian * 


Music Sc Dance 


Kuutu Osu 

New Ways from 
Aliu an Roots: 
Innovation & 




Tales of 


Aluku Maroon 

Traditions oi 

Self Govern- 

Moore Town 

Tales ol 
Maroon Heroes 

Anansi Stories 

Ceremonies of 

(Death & Birth) 

Herbal Healing 



In Guianese 

Maroon Wood 
Carving Design 

Try Guianese 
Music & Dance 

Learn to Make 
( !i tli imbian 
Plaited Fans 

Pla\ Jamaican 

Maroon Ring 

( .anu-s 


Colombia Area: 

Drum Repair , 

Plaited & 
Woven Work, 
"Trampas" & 

"Jaulas," Ri( e 

Guianas Area: 


Wood Caning, 
House Dress- 
ing, Painted 

Plaited Hair 
Trap Making, 
Crocheted Calf- 
band Making, 
. Processing & 
Preparing Cas- 
sava, Rice 

Seminole Area: 

Family History, 

Cowboy Skills, 

Cavalry Skills, 


Jamaica Area: 

Drummaking & 
Repair, Making 

Bird & Fish 
Traps, Working 

with Fiber, 

Mexico Area: 



Man ton Area: 
Cooking with 
Sweet Potato 

Jamaica \na 

( looking with 

(ananas \ua: 

( ,i tokirig with 


Colombia Area: 


Tubei Foods 


Maroon Area: 

Cooking frpm- 

Na< imiento 

* 12:00 - 12:30 - Guianas Area - Boatbuilding 
**3:00 - 3:30 - Mexico Area - Herbal Medicine 











by stone cutters 

and carvers 
current!) work- 
ing to restore 
the White 

Music Stage 

\ai i alive ses- 
sions with 
White House 
workers on: tra- 
ditions of 
teaching and 
learning, skills 
and working 
daily tasks and 
special events, 
teamwork, sto- 
i ies And cus- . 
toms, relation- 
ships with liisi 
families, fellow 
workers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and 
sin ial t hanges 
afiet ting work- 
er culture 

Nai i amr ses- 
sions at the 
following limes 
will be sign- 
intei pi ficd: 


Saturday, June 27 






I ,i is Matachine; 


William & 

Vondra Doi n; 



raos Pueblo 

( loncha Family 

Dam (i s 

William & 

\ i »ndra Horn: 

( iospel 

1 raditit »ns 

Los Mata< nines 

Taos Puebli > 

Concha FaniiK 

Dam ers 


[ndo-1 lispanii 
< looking 



( looking in the 

( looking 


Trad i Hi tns 


Rio ( Irande 
Valley < It » iking 

Music Stage 

l « >s Uegres; 

Musk .i de los 


|olmn\ & 



Musi< a de 1" 


Fiddle Styles 

fuan r I' n es & 



\lusn .1 de l.i 
li ontera 

Los Reyes de 
Albuquei que 



Cleofes Ortiz, 

( lipi iano Vigil: 

Colonial Musi< 


C.eilii ii hi 


Zuni Pueblo 

Fiddle Styles 

Los Alegres: 

Music a de los 

Vieji >s 


1 li H semanship 

Mes< alert > 


\li tuntain 

Sjiii it H.mi ers 

( !han eada 


Mi si alero 



Spirit Dancers 

( lhai teada 
Traditii ms 



Camp Fire 


Fei nando 



Zuni Pueblc 

Beadwork 8c 
( leremom 

1 1 adil i< "is 

( luentos 
Si< iries from 

the Ki" 
( irande \ allej 

Drums oi the 

Spirit Dane ers 

Rural I it. .V 


( lamp Fire 

William & 

\ « mdi a Doi n: 

( .ospel 


"American Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New Mexi< o's cultures, is open to the public 
' in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
American I [istory. 


Music Stage 



\u aragua 
Mai iinba Trio 

Protest Songs 




Mohawk Musical 


Classical Music 


Vincent ( >raig: 

( >uitai isi Singei 



Hient Mi< hael 


Mohii an Flautist 

( lomposei 

( Iherokee 



Murray Porter: 

( )neida 



Wni kshop: 
In um making - 

Fiddle Styles: 
Manitoba < >jibwaj 

MiU Inl I ui tie 


\ili.ih.isk,in Yukon 


M.n keting 


( Iherokee Indian 
Baptisl Choir 



White Bo) & the 
Wagon Bui iters; 
( mondaga - 
Blues Rock 

Nit araguan 


Alex ( iomez 


O'odham Waila 

Musk ( '( Jut ken 
St i,iu h") 

Sat red Set ular 



Los Reyes de 

Schedules are subject to change. Check signs 'in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are marked 
with the symbol fljg> . 









Music and 
Dance Area 

Music 8c Dance 
from Suriname 

Sexteto Son 



Maroon Musii 

& Dance 

Ndjuka Music 

& Dance from 



Maroons from 

Moore Town 

Music 8c Dance 

New Musics 

from Old: 

( ananas: Aleke; 

Bullerengue & 
Sim de Negro 



Drumming 8c 

Dance from 


Maroon Musjc 

AJuku Music 8c 

Dance from 
French Guiana 


Kuutu Osu 


Stories nt 

4 Maroon 

Heroes & 



Identit) in the 



( ananas, 

Stories of the 



Maroon Stories 
from Ecuador 

Traditions oi 


( ii>\ eminent: 

(iuianas & 


Maroon Anansi 


I anguages 


Healing Arts 





In Guianese 




Play Jamaican 
Maroon Games 

1 ry ( luianese 

Maroon Musii 

& Dance 

Learn to Make 

Maroon Plaited 


Colombia Area: 

Drum Repair, 

Plaited & Woven 


"Trampas" 8c 

"(aulas." Rice 



Guianas Area: 



Wood Carving,* 

House Dressing. 

Painted House 


Plaited Hair 







Trap Making, 




Processing & 


Cassava, Rice 



Seminole Area: 

Family History, 
Cowboy Skills, 
Cavalry Skills, 

Jamaica Area: 


Drummaking & 

Repair, Making 

Bird & Fish - 

Traps, Working 

with Fiber,** 


Mexico Area: 




Man m >n Area: 

Making Fry 

Jamai( an Area: 
Dumplings & 
Johnny ( lakes 

( .man. is \i e.i 

( luiariese 

Maroon ( lassav; 

( akes 

Mai oon Ai t.i 
( looking t< ii 
Seminole Day 

Colombia Ana 


( looking 

: * 11:00"- 12:00 -Jamaica Area -Jamaican Bangn bags 
r 3:30 - 4:00 - Guianas Area - Guiana woodcarving 












by stone cutters 
and carvers i m- 
renl K working 
to restoi e i he 
White House 



Narrative ses- 
sions with 
White House 
workers on: 
traditions of 
teaching and 
learning, skills 
and working 


dail) tasks and 
spe< ial events, 
teamwork, sto- 
ries and cus- 
toms, relation- 
ships with first 
families, fellow 
workers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and 
social i hanges 
aflec ling w< H k- 
er i uliure 

\.n i alive ses- 
sions at the 
following tunes 
will be sign- 

12:30- 1:15 
2:00-2: 1". 

Sunday, June 28 



Si tngs oi Belief 

Los Mataehines 

I aos Pueblo 

Com ha Family 

Dane ers 


William & 

\'i indra Hoi n: 



Taos Pueblo 
Concha Famih 

Dam i i s 

Li >s Matai hines 


( /<i h-American 
( !i »i iking 

( looking in the 

I li h no 


\lllf t K .111 

( looking 

Indo-I lispanii 
( lo< iking 

Cochiti Pueblc 
( t»i iking 

Amei it .in 
( looking 

Ramah Navajo 
( looking 

Music Stage 

|uan Flores & 

Musica de la 


LOS \lr-ii s 

Musi< .1 de los 

Los Reyes de 

|ohnn\ & 

I ,uther Whelan 

Mush a de los 


Fiddle M\ lr 

\m< una 

Apodai .1, 

( Ileofes ( )i ii/. 

Cipriani > Vigil: 

( It ili mial \1 usii 

Los Reyes de 

Los Alegi es 

Musica de los 





Mesi alero 

\|..u he 

Mountain Spii il 

Dam 'i s 

( lhai reada 


Mountain Spirit 
Dam ers 

Hoi sf mansliip 



Camp Fire 

Ways . »! 
1 lealing 

William & 

V< mdra Doi n; 

( >< ispel 


I [sing I ooms 

I' I I HI' HI1X 

Developmeni & 

( lultural 



Wi n kshop: 

1- xpressions ol 


Mu at cons 


( 'ellif ion: 


Zuni PufhU 

< lamp Fit 

"American Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New Mexico's cultures, is open to the public 
in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
American History. 






Music Stage 




Indian Baptist 

( Ihoir 



Hi fin Michael 


( «un poser 

S.i« oil Se< ular 


Fiddle Stvles: 

( >|ilnv.i\ 

Mitchif Turtle 


Athabaskan Yukon 





Mohawk Mush al 


Promotion & 

Marimba I m > 

Protest Songs 


Vim fin ( Iraig: 

( . mm. n ist Singei 




Mm i .i\ Porter: 






White Boy & the 

\\ agon Bin lie i s: 

Sacred Set ular 


Alex Gomez 


< )'odham Waila 

Musii ("Chicken 


Classical Music 


Ndjuka & 


Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are marked 
with the symbol ^ . 










Music and 
Dance Area 

Aluku Music & 







Ndjuka Musk & 

Music & Dance 

Maroon Mus 

Maroon Story 


Music & Dance 


Kuutu Osu 

Palenque de 

San Basilio: 

Riddles & 

( lames 



Speech Styles 8c 


Semini tie 


• New Year's 


Traditions oi 



New Languages 

Created from 


Sti »i ies from 

Tales oi 



Survival Skills & 
the Spirit oi 





Design from 
the Guianas' 


( a ilomhian 


Woven Works 

Pl.u Jamaican 
Maroon Games 

Try Guianese 

Maroon Dance 


Colombia Area: 

Drum Repair, 

Plaited & 
Woven Wink. 
"Tram pas" 8c 
'Jaulas," Rice 
Trapmaking " 

Guianas Area: 


Stitchery, Wood 

Carving, House 


Painted House. 


Plaited Han 







Trap Making, 

Crocheted , 

Caliban d 


Processing & 


Cassava, Rice 



Seminole Area: 

Family History, 
Cowboy Skills, 
Cavalry Skills, 
Food ways 

Jamaica Area: 

Drummaking 8c 
Repair. Making 

Bird & Fish 
Traps, Working 

with Fiber, 
Bask fin 

Mexico Area: 






( looking with 

( lornmeal 



( .lowing. 

Processing & 
( looking Rice 

jamau an 


Survival Foods: 

Jerk Pork 


( It ii >kmg with 

Tubei s: 

Sancoc In > 

Maroon Tonics 

& 1 lealing 












by stone cutters 
and carvers cur- 
rently working 
to restore the 
White House 


Narrative ses- 
sions with 
White House 
porkers on: tra- 
ditions of teach- 
ing and learn- 
ing, skills and 
working knowl- 
edge, daily tasks 
and special 
events, team- 
work, stoi tes, 
and customs, 
with first fami- 
lies, fellow 
workers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and social 
changes affe* t- 
ing worker cul- 

Narrative ses- 
sions at the 

fi iil( >wiug times 
will be sign- 

2:00 - 2:45 

: 3:30 - 4:00 - Guianas Area - Decorative Painting 

Monday, June 29 



l os 
Matac hines 

( luentos; 
Stoi ies from 

the Ri<> 
( Irande \ alle\ 

raos Pueblo 
( ionc ha Family 

Dam < i s 

Matac hines 




Zuni Pueblo 


( lochili Pueblo 
( .' H iking 

( looking 

Afrit .m- 
Aiiu'ik an 
( lo< tking 

( '.i toking 

Taos Pueblo 

( oik ha Family 

Dan< ers 

William & 

Y< nidi .i Dom 

Iraditn >ns 


Hoi no 

Music Stage 


< l< ofes < )in/. 

( 'ipi iam ' Vigil: 

( lolonial Music 

1 ,os Reyes de 

Los Ylegres: 
Music .i de los 

\ ll'U IS 

Johnn) & 

Music a de \i i 
\ aquei < >s 

Kiddle Snlcs 

Juan Fit m es & 



Musii .i de !.i 

Frontei a 


( i » iking 

Making Ristras 


Apodac a, 

Cleofes Ortiz, 

( lipi i, mo Vigil: 

( lolonial Music 


I (orsemanship 

Mes< alei o 

\pac he 

Mountain Spirit 

Dailf (I S 

( h.ii i eada 
1 1 aditii ins 

Ran- h 
1 1 aditions 

Kiddle Styles 

( lhan eada 
1 1 aditions 



Camp Fire 

African- v -^ 
Communities in 

\c U M('\H o 

( lamp Fire 

Land I se & 
Water Rights 

Fernandi > 

Celli( ion; 


/inn I'uehlt 

William & 

Y. null, I Doi li 

( .« ispel 

1 1 aditions 

( ,uentos: 

Stories from the 

Rio Grande 





Saddles & 
1 li irses 

Coloi ing 
I radition: 
Muralists & 

"American Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
ol New Mexico's cultures, is opc*i to the public 
in the Smithsonian's National Museum oi 
American History. 






Music Stage 


Murray Porter: 




( Classical Music 


Brent Michael 

Davids: Mohican 



Iroquoian ^-^ 



Indian Baptist 



Fiddle Styles: 

Manitoba ( >jibwaj 

Mitchil turtle 




Protesi Songs 



Singei s 

Mohawk Musii al 




Marimba Ti io 

Sac red Secular 


Vincent Craig: 

( Guitarist Singei 

( lonsti uc lion 

Vlex ( lomez 


( >'odham Waila 

Music ("Chic ken 

S< latch") 

Cherokee 1 lymn 


White Bo) & U> 

Wagon Burners: 


Blues.' Rock 

Nic araguan 


,\ntonia Apodaca. 
( lleofes Ortiz, 
t ipriano Vigil; 

Colonial Music 

Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted"are marked 
with the symbol ^ . 









Music and 
Dance Area 

Aluku Musi. & 

I)an#e from 


Cimam mes 

( lorrido 

[amai< an 



A< compong 

( lolombia 


Music & Dance 


Music 8c Dance 
Prom Suriname 

Mi ti He Town 


Maroon Music 

8c Dance 

Maroon Story 

Ndjuka Music 
& Dance from 
Irom Sui in. Hue 


Kuutu Osu 

Palenquc de San 

Oral Traditions 



The Seminole 





Traditions of 



New Languages 

Created from 


\\ < mien in 
Maroon Cultures 

Maroon Identity 
in the 1990s 




Patt hwork from 
the Guianas 

I, earn to Make 
Plaited Fans 

Play Jam.iu ad 
Maroon ( lames 

Trj ( tuianese 
Maroon Dance 

Innovation & ^ 
Continuities: ^- 
Personal Style in 
l)re>s 8c Ornament 


Colombia Area: 

Drum Repair,* 

Plaited & 
Woven Work, 
"Trampas" 8c 
'Jaulas." Rk e 
[Yap making 

Guianas Area: 

Stitchery, Wood 
Carving, House 


Pamled I Eouse 


Plaited Hair 







Trap Making. 




Processing 8c 



Plaiting, Rice 


Seminole Area: 


I [istory,** 
( !i twin i\ Skills. 
( lavalr) Skills, 


Jamaica Area: 


Drummaking 8c 

Repaii . Making 

' Bird 8c Fish 

Traps, Working 

with Fiber, 




Mexico Area: 







( looking 
Traditii ins 

( Guiana Maroon 

( looking with 



Survival Foods: 
]ei k Pork 


< looking with 

( in nmeal: 

\irp.i de 
I luevo 


Making. Kwaka 

* 12:00 - 12:30 - Colombia Area - Drum Repair 

** 3:00 - 3:30 - Seminole Area - Documenting Family History 








h\ siune cutters 
and carvei s cur- 
rently working 
to restore the 
\\ lute I h iuse 






Narrative ses- 
sions with 
White House 
workers on 1 : tra- 
ditions of leac h- 
ing and learn- 
ing, skills and 
working knowl- 
edge, daily tasks 
and spei ial 
events, team- 
work, stories 
and customs, 
with first I. inn- 
lies, fellow 
workers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and soc ial 
changes affect- 
ing workei * ul- 

Narrative ses- 
sions at the 
following times 
will be sign- ' 



New Mexico 
Main Music Stage 


(J) First Aid 

© Beverage Concession 


(D Food Concession 

@ Accessible to 

Mobility Impaired 



Adobe V^" 


Straw Inlay Artist 


Bone Carver 



Hurt- I 1 

aker I |_ 


( iurandera 
Ristra Maker 
Storyteller Potters 





I 1 Adobe ^-Spinners 

I 1 Workers P Dyers I 



brerrormers ■— r 
Beadworker "*J3 Adobe ^ Weavers 

Colcha L ] Church Basketmakers 

Embroiderer , . 

nn Weavers „ '• W ^ Sheep 

New Mexico 

Cantina Saddlemaker 


Ranch and Range 



Learning ('enter 

Farrier Storytellers 

Cowboy Musicians 

( lamp Cooks 









Workers at the 
- White House - 


The Changing Soundscape 
- — in Indian Country 

Narrative Stage/ 
Learning Center Exhibit 

( larvers 



Native American 
Narrative Stage 




Festival Site Map 


Maroon Area 

LJ Foodways ▼ Ndjuka 

<* Aluku n House 

\> House 


Maroon Area 

Maroon Culture 
■ in the Americas 


Front Kuutu Osu 



Boat Building 

Colombia Mexico 

Palenquero Area Cimarrones Area 

„ , ° ■ Food Plants 

\ oodways \ | | 

Activity/Learning- Palenque 

Center House 

Maroon Area 





and Herbs 






The National Mall 




Music Stage 


INl>l'['r\l)r\CF. AVFNt.1 

(Independence Ave. Exit) 

! m 

S. Dillon Ripley Sackler African Art Hirshhorn \ \ m L'Enfant PtazaL 

Center Gallery Museum Museum \ \ (Maryland Ave^c 7th Si. Exit) 


New Mexico 
Main Music Stage 

©Information- ® First Aid 

Q Beverage Concession CD Restrooms 

([) Food Concession © Accessible to 

Mobility Impaired 




s<& Adobe 
%^ Fireplace 


Straw tnla) Artist 
Basketmaker _ 
Bone ( .11 vei 




Ristra Makei Muralist 

. Storyteller Potters 


o % 

Pa no 


iture I I 
aker I — 1_ 



Museum r\ 

Shop . , , 



□ Adohc ^Spinners 
Workers F Dvn ' s I 






""]] Adobe ^^\\c.i\ 

Llrn clmrch 

( lamp 




Basketmaker s 

O sheep 


New Mexico 

( miin i Saddlemakei 

Ranch and Range 



Learning Center 

rier Storytellers 

( .owlx>\ \lii\i( ians 

Camp Cooks 




( Iross 




Workers at the 
- White House ■ 


The Changing Soundscape 
- — in Indian Country 

Nai native Stage/ 

Leai ning ( lenter Exhibit 


(Smithsonian I 


Native American 
Narrative Stage 


Festival Site Map 



Maroon Area 



^ Ndjuka 
n House 
u From 

Seminole _ 
Maroon Area 


Maroon Culture 
" in the Americas n 

Kutitii Osu 

S.ii imaka 


Boat Building 

Colombia Mexico 

Palenquet oArea Cimai rones Area 

( lenter 

° ■ n 

Foodways \ 


| Foodways 

^k [amaican 
Jamaica ^ House 
Maroon Area .— . 

Food Plants ^ 

and Herbs Q_J 





The National Mall 






Music Stage 



National Gallery of Arl 

S. Dillon Riplev Sackler African Arl 
Center ' Gallery Mnvimi 

I Ei. I. " 

(Maryland w v 7th Sl 1 *"»] 

Thursday, July 2 






Blessing i ii the 
Church p 
Processit m 



Siont's from 

the Rio Grande 


Coman( lies 

l.os Matachines 

< :< >u hi a Musit 


Aniei u .111 
( looking 

Cochm Puebl< 
( a n tking 

( ze< h- 
( looking 



Cuentos: a 
Stories from 
the Rio Grande 

Taos Pueblo 

( loncha Famil) 

Dam ei s 

( .i imam lies 


Breads from 

Music Stage 

Los Alegi es 

Musica de los 

Viejt >s 

Johnn) & 

Luther Whelan: 

Musi* a de los 

Vaquei os 


Vpodac a, 

Clepfus Ortiz, 

( lipriano Vigil: 

( Musii 

[uan Flores & 



Musii a de la 


I i is Reyes de 

[ohnny &: 

1 uther Whelan 

Musica de los 


Fiddle Styles 

I ii nando 
( lelli< ion: 

Zuni Pueblo 


I lorsemanship 

C iharreada 

I i .idiin ins 

Ram li 


1 1 .Millions 

( lharreada 

"American Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New Mexico's cultures, is open t<> the public 
in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
American I listory- 



Camp Fire 

Camp Fire 


I i « mount 


( Ian ing foi 


Fernandt > 

( ellii i< >n 

Zuni l'urhl<: 

Building wil h 

Prepai ing ti i 

I'.isl in es: 

Ti .Millions 

hulo-1 lispanh 
( Communities 

William \.A3 
Vondra Doi n: 
( .ospel 









Music Stage 

( Iherokee 

Indian Baptist 


Sharon Burch: 

( ruitarisl Singei 

Murray Porter: 




Marimba Trio 

Fiddle Styles 

Mitchil Turtle 


Athabaskan Yukon 


Singei s: 

Mohawk Musical 

I i ,m luions 

Vim ent ( iraig: 

( .iiii.u isi Singer 

Brent Michael 

Flautist ( posei 

Jake Coin: 


Guitarist Singer 

\U\ ( lomez 

Band: , 

( Vodli.tni Waila 

Music ("< lu< ken 

Si ratch") 

While Bo) & the 

Wag< mi Burners: 

< )nondaga 

Blues Rock 


Promotion & 


Colisll U( Moll 

( ! lassie .il Music 

Protest Songs 

\ ii ,ii aguan 

I Ivmn Singing 


Navajo Musi< 

Sa< red 5e< ulai 

Musn ^\ 


Sexteto Son 


( i >l> imbian 

Maroon Musk 

& Dance 

Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are marked 
with the symbol ^ . 










Music and 
Dance Area 

Aluku Musk & 








Colombia . 

Music & Dance 

Saramaka Music 
& Dance 

Maroon Music 

Maroon Story 

Ndjuka Music &: 


Kuutu Osu 

Palenque de San 

Basilio: . 
( > I raditions 



The Seminole 




Facades & 

House Dressing 

Traditions of 


( iovernment: 

Guiana Maroon 


\( w | anguages 

( Ireated from 


\\ i iinen in 
( Cultures 


Strategies & 
Martial Arts 

Innovation & 


Personal Style in 

I »i ess -V < )i ii.mirni 




Patchwork from 
the Guianas 

Learn to Make 
Plaited Fans 

Play Jamaican 
Maroon Games 

Try Guianese 
Maroon Dance 


Colombia Area: 
Drum Repair, 

Plaited 8c 
Woven Work. 
"Trampas" & 
'Jaulas," Rit e 

Guianas Area: 

Stitcherv, Wood 
'Carving, 1 louse 


Painted House 


Plaited Hair 







Trap Making, 




Processing & 



Plaiting, Rice 


Seminole Area: 

Family History, 
Cowboy Skills, 
Cavalry Skills, 

Jamaica Area: 

Drummaking & 
Repair, Making 

Bird *& Fish 

Traps, Working 

with Fiber, 




Mexico: Herbal 



( looking 
Frv Bread 

Ndjuka & Aluku 


Preparation & 

Presentation foi 

Booko Dei — 



[amah an 

Maroon Surviva 


Jerk Pork 

( looking with 

Sugart ane 
Mani Plateado 


Special Event: 
7:00 pm- 1:00 am 
— Guiana 
Maroon Booko 
Dei Ceremony 
In commemora- 
tion of the 
an< estors: An 
evening of Story- 
telling, dance 
and community 











tions by si' me 
cutters and 
carvers cur- 
rently working 
to restore the 
While House 


Narrative ses- 
sions with 
While House 
workei s on 
traditions of 
teaching and 
li.ii iniig, skills 
and working 
daily tasks and 
special events, 
teamwork, si<>- 
ries and cus- 
toms, relation- 
ships with first 
families, fellow 
woi kers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and 
social ( hanges 
affecting work- 
er culture 

Narrative ses- 
sions at the 
following time 
will he sign- 


Friday, July 3 



Los Matai hines 

Los Comam hes 

( luentos: Stoi iej 
li om the Rio 
( Irande Valley 

raos Pueblo 
Com ha Family 




( looking 


\inci u ,111 

< i toking 

( !zech-Ameri< an 

Cochin Pucbl< 
( looking 

William & 

Vondra Dorn: 



1 < is Ma tac hines 


( looking in the 

Hi niio 

Music Stage 

l os Reyes de 
Albuquei que 

Fiddle Styles 

Juan Kloies & 



Musi< .t de la 

I' I Ollll'l .1 

1 ,o\ Alegi is 

Music a de Ios 

Vieji >s 

An ton i a 

Apoda< .i. 

I leofes Ortiz, 

( lipriano Vigil: 

( lolonial Musu 

(ohnn) & 
Luthei Whelan: 

\llis|( ,| (If (OS 

Vaquei > *s 

I < >s Reyfes <!<■ 

|uan I- 1( ues & 



\Insh .i <ic la 

Fn tntera 


I raditions 

1 1 aditii ms 

1 raditions 


I lorsemanship 



Camp Fire 


Mai krling 
1 radition 

( lamp I n < 

( .cm/. in i 

William & 

\ i nulia Dorn: 


Tradiin ms 

Cuentos: Stones 
horn lhe Rio 
(irande Valley 




/ami Pueblo 

( lamp Fire 


Materials lor 


"American Encounters,'' a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New Mexico's cultures, is open to the public 
in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
American History. 






Music Stage 



Sharon Burch: 

( aulai ist Singer 

\u araguan 

Jake Coin: 


(.Lilians! Singer 


1 raditions 

Vim ent Craig: 

< .uiiaiist Singer 

( Iheroket 1 1\ 



Kiddle Sules 

Mitchif Turtle 



Navajo Musk 


Brent Michael 
Davids: an 
Flautisl ( .<nii|»>sei 

Ni< aragua 
Marimba Trio 

Imsii uinenl 
( lonstrui iiou 

Sat led Secular 


Murray Porter: 


Keybi lardisl 



( Iherokee Indian 
Baptist Choir 

M.ii keting: 

The Recording 




Mohawk Musical 

1 raditions 

I'm >ust Songs 


Alex Gome? 


( )*odham Waiia 

Music ("Chicken 



White Boj .V 

the Wagon 


Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are marked 
with the symbol fi^ . 









Music and 
Dance Area 

Aluku Music & 

Dance from 
French Guiana 










Music & Dance 

Saramaka Music 

& Dance from 


Maroon Music 

Maroon Story 

Ndjuka Music 

& Dance from 



Kuutu Osu 

Palenque de 

San Basilio: 

Oral Traditions 

Innovation & 


Pei si Style 

in Dress & 



M. noons: 

The Seminol' 


Traditions oi 

( lovernment 

Maroon ( lames 

Women in 

Identity in the 


Aesthetics of 
I tress 




Patchwork from 
the Guianas 

Learn to Make 

Plaited Fans 

Pla\ [amaican 
Maroon Games 

Try Guianese 
\l.uoi in Dance 


Colorrtbia Area: 
Drum Repaii , 

Plaited & 
Woven Work, 
"Tramp, is .^ 
'jaulas," Rice 

Guianas Area: 

Stitchery, Wood 
CaFving, House' 


Painted I louse 


Plaited Hair 







Trap Making, 




Processing & 



Plaiting, Rice 


Seminole Area: 

Family History, 
Cowboy Skills. 
Cavalry Skills, 

Jamaica Area: 

Drum making & 
Repair, Making 

Bird 8c Fish 

Traps, Working 

with Fiber. 




Mexico: Musical 





Maroon Food 


Guiana Maroon 

( !i loking with 


[amai( dn 

Maroon Survival 

Foi ids 

Jerk Pork 


( .< ji iking with 


Arepa de i Iuev< 



Cooking with 

( i »i nmeal 









Narrative ses- 


sions with 

by stone cutters 

White House 

and carvers cur- 

workers on: tra- 

rent!) working 

ditions of teach- 


to restore the 

ing and learn- 

While 1 louse 

ing, skills and 

working knowl- 
edge, d.nh tasks 

and special 

events, team- 
work, stories 


and customs, 


with first fami- 
lies, Fellow 

workers and 

guests, transi- 


tions, and S0< ial 

< hanges affect- 
ing workei cul- 


12:30- 1:15 



( maiding 


Tradiin his 


( !i ides ■ >t 

Narrative ses- 
sions at the 


following times 
will be sign- 

11:00- 11:45 

11:45- 12:30 





Saturday, July 4 



1 a< »s Pueblo 
( loncha Famil) 

I ).UH (l s 


I os Ma tat nines 

William & 

Vondra Dorn; 

( .i ispel 

1 1 adiu< ms 

I os ( loman< hes 

( Junius; Slot it'- 
ll i mi the Rio 
( irande Valle\ 

I ,u is Pueblo 

( ;< mi ha Family 


( ellii ion: 

Mi iir 
/inn Pueblo 


(vet h-American 
( looking 

lndo-| (ispanii 

( '< inking in the 

( .« >< Inn Puel ill 
( looking 

Tesnque Puebli 


Aim. ui- 
Amei h .ui 
( looking 

Making Risti as 

Music Stage 

[olinin & 

I uthei Whelan: 

Musit .i de los 

Vaquei > >s 


( .cIIk ion: 


/mil Pueblc 

Los Reyes de 


\| m ida< .i, 

( lleofus < )i li/, 

{ lipriano Vigil: 

S] unish 

Colonial Musk 

Fiddle Styles 

Fei n.tiidi i 

Celli i 

/mil Piiehk 

Jli.m Flores & 



Musk ,i de la 
I i oiilei .i 

I os Reyes de 

Los Alegres: 

\Iiisu a de los 
\ li |< >s 


( lhan eada 

I lorsemanship 

( lhai i eada 




Camp Fire 

Women in 

( lamp Fin 

[mages of New 

Mt'XK i i 

I aos Puebh 
f raditit ms 



Rural I ife& 

1 in u i Himeiil 

Si mgs ' >l Faith 

1,< is ( '.< imaiK lie* 

( lamp H 











Music Stage 

Murray Porter: 




\n aragua 
Mai imba Trie 

( Iherokee Indian 
Baptist ("lion 

Vint ent Craig: 

( iuitarist Singei 

Sharon Burth: 

( .uilai 1st Singer 

|ake < loin: 

I lopi 

( iuitarist Singei 

Brent Michael 



Flautist ( lomposer 

Kiddle Styles: 

Mitthil I mile 



White Bo\ & the 

Wagon Burners: 


Blues R*'.< k 

Alex Gomez 


O'odham Waila 

Musk ( "< :hit ken 


Navaji ' M Hsu 

Mai keting 

Mi) araguan 



( lassu al Mush 

( Iherokee Hymn 


Sat led Set ulai 

Protest Songs 

"American Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New Mexico's cultures, is open to the public 
in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
American History. 

Schedules are subject to change. -Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are [narked 
with the symbol fig . 










Music and 
Dance Area 

Musk & Dance 

Music & Dance 

«it Mi. ore Town 


\liiku Musk & 


Kiiutu Osu 

Talking About 

( Continuities: 

from African 




From Florida to 


Musk of the \ 
Costa Chi< .i 
Maroons & 

\i 1 i impofig 

Maroons ol 


Musk & Dana 

Ndjufca Musk 
& Dance 

Maroon Story 

New Music in ,i 

New Land: £§j 

Aleke Musk " 

from French 

Guiana & 


Traditit ins < >l 



Guiana Maroon 

K 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 

New Languages 

Created from 


Sh ii us from 

Identity in the 


Strategies & 
Martial Arts 




Pat( hwork from 
tiie Guianas 

Learn u > Make 
( Colombian 
Plaited Fans 

In Guianese 

M,n « 'on Music 
& Dance 

Play |amaican 
Maroon Games 


Colombia Area: 
Drum Repair, 

Plaited .V 

Woven Work, 

" 1 1 ampas" & 

"|aulas," Rice 



Guianas Area: 

Stitcher) , \\ « m id 
Caning, I louse 


Painted I louse 

Detoi ation, 

Plaited Hair 







["rap Making, 

( Irocheted 



I'n icessing 8c 


( lassava, 

Plaiting, Rice 


Seminole Area: 

Family History, 
Cowboy Skills, 
Cavaln Skills. 

Jamaica Area: 
That* lung, 

Drum making & 

Repair, Making 
Bird & Fish 

1 1 aps, Working 

with Fiber, 

I lammock 


Basket r) 

Mexico: Herbal 
Medu nit- 




Wrapped Fi >< id 

— Tamales 


Wrapped Food 
— Doku 



Wrapped Food 

— Dokunu 

Palenquen i 


\\'i,i|i|icd Food 

— Boll., 












tions In stone 
cutters .mil 
carvers cur- 
rently working 
to restore the 
White House 


Narrative ses- 
sions with 
White House 
workers on: 
traditions ol 
teaching and 
learning, skills 
and working 
daily tasks and 
special events, 
teamwork, sto- 
ries and cus- 
toms, relation- 
Ships-with first 
families, fellow 
workers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and 
social changes 
affecting work- 
er culture 

sessions at the 
following times 
will be sign- 


2:00 - 2:45 

Sunday, July 5 



Los Matachines 

( !oman< lies 

Cuenu is: 

si. h ies from 

tin* Rio Grande 


William & 

Vondra Dorn 

( .1 ispel 


raos Pueblo 

( loncha Family 

Dane ers 

In nando 



/ami Puebl< 

1 < is Reyes de 


( lomanches 


Aim an- 
Amet it an 
( .< i« »king 

( lochiti Pueblc 
< i " iking 

[ndi -I lispanii 
( lot iking 


Anu'iH an 
( looking 

( !o< iking in the 

I lom.> 

In. l< < 1 [ispanic 

All u an 
( looking 

Music Stage 

fuan Flores & 

( harla 


Musii a de la 

1- rontera 

I iddle Styles 

I -is Reyes <\r 

1 os Alegres: 

Musk a de los 


|oliiin\ & 

I in Ihi \\ IkLiii 

Musii a de los 

Vaquen is 


< leofes < >m/. 

( apriano \ igil: 

( Colonial Musi< 

Fiddle Styles 

|uan Flores & 

Char la 


Musi< .i de la 



( hainada 
I raditii wis 

1 h ii semanship 


( lharreada 



Camp Fire 

Range, 1 and. 
& 1 i adition 

Wilham & 

Vondra Dorn: 

( iospel 


rei nanili > 

< !elli< i' mi 


/aim Puebh 

I us \laiai hines 

In. hla 

( -ani| i Iik 

Cuentos; ^ 
Sti »i ies From the 
Rio < irande 

"American Encounters," a permanent exhibi- 
tion that examines the historical relationships 
of New.Mexico's cultures, is open to the pub- 
lit in the Smithsonian's National Museum of 
American IlistoiA. 






Music Stage 


( Cherokee 

Indian Baptist 




Sharon linn h: 

( anlai lsl Singer 

\u ai aguan 


Kiddle Styles: 





■Navajo Musi. 

Mnna\ Poller: 
( )m ida 


< l.issi. .il Musi. 


|ake ( lom: 


( luitai isi 'Singei 

Brent Vln liael 




( lomposei 


Wot kshop: 

( Crossover Music 


\ in* eiii ( Iraig: 


( -nilai isi Singer 

1 radiuons 

Nic aragua 
Mai imba 1 no 


Protest Songs 

Alex ( romez 


( >'» idham Waila 

Music ( "< !hi< ken 

S* ratch") 

( .heiokee Hvmn 


WHiite llo\ & the 

Wagon Burners: 

< >nondaga 


s.i, i <-d Se. ular 
Mn sit 


Antonia Apodaca, 
( lleofus l >i ii/. 
( i|>i i. m. i Vigil: 
Musi. ,i de los 

Schedules are subject to change. Check signs in 
each program area for specific information. 

Sign language interpreters will be available for selected 
programs. Programs that will be interpreted are marked 
with the symbol ^ . 










Music and 
Dance Area 

Aluku Music 8c 

Dance from 
French Guiana 




Maroon Music 



Music 8c Dance: 


Music 8c Dance 
from Surinam e 

Maroon Music 

Journey to 


Music 8c Dance 
from Surhiame 


Kuiiiii Osu 

Palenque de 

San Basifio: 

Oral Traditions 

JoUMH \ tO 





From Florida to 


Traditions <>l 

( Government: 
Confli( is 

Maroon < >ames 

Stories from 
Fc uador 

Maroon Identit) 
in the 1996s 

S \2 

The Spirit of 




Patchwork from 
the Guianas 

Learn to Make 

Plaited Fans 

Play Jamaican 
Maroon Games 

Try ( >uianese 
M.u i m >n Dan< e 


Colombia Area: 

Drum Repair, 

Plaited & Woven 


HTrampas" & 

"Jaulas," Rice 



Guianas Area: 

Stitcher}', Wood 
Caning, House 


Painted House 


Plaited Hair 


( lalabash 





Trap Making," 


Caliban d 


Processing & 



Plaiting, Rue 


Seminole Area: 

Family History, 
Cowboy Skills, 
Cavalry Skills, 

Jamaica Area: 

Drummaking & 

Repair, Making 
Bird 8c Fish 

Traps, Working 

with Fiber, 




Mexico: Herbal 


Seminole I 
Maroon Staples 
< a Hiking with 

( )< II I1IIH ,tl 

( ruianese 

Maroon Staples: 


I'iim essing & 

Cooking Rii e .in 
Maroon Survival 

Jerk Pork 

Palenqun o 

Cooking wild 


Man ton I '« mi< s 

& Healing 

Prepai ations 











tions by stone 
cutters and 
carvers cur- 
rent]) working 
_to restore the 
White II. .use 


Narrative ses- 
sions with 
White House 
workers on: 
traditions i >l 
teaching and. 
learning, skills 
and working 
dail) tasks and 
Special events. 
teamwork, sto- 
ries and cus- 
toms, relatii >n- 
ships with first 
families, fellow 
workers and 
guests, transi- 
tions, and 
s< K i lianges 
affecting work- 
ei i ultnre 

Vn rative ses- 
sions at the 
following times 
will be sign- 
interpreted: . 

II - li:45 

2:00- 2: I". 

Festival Staff 

Director, Centei fori Eolklife Programs and Cul- 
tural Studies: Richard Kurin 
Festival Director: Diana Parker 
Administrative Officer: Barbara Strickland 
Editor: Peter Seitel 
Designer: |oan Wolbier 
Assistant Designers: Arm 1 [arisen, Rebecca 

Design Interns: Tanja Bos, Jane Umlauf 
Publication Review: Arlene Reiniger 
Pan-Festival Workshop < oordinator: Olivia 

Assistant Workshop Coordinator: Jennifer 

Technical Coordinator: Pete Reiniger 
Associate Technical t oordinator: ( lonnie 

Carpenters: Bill Foster, Deane Halsey, 

( :hris Insley, ( lharlie Wehi 
Crew Chief: Lisa Ogonowski 
Exhibit Workers: reresa Ballard, Pheth 
Chanthapanya, C.J. Cliff, Julie Hobo, 
Ronald Hunt, Beth Knight, Jennifer 
Roth, Kevin Livingston, Terry 
Menielield, Melinda Simms, Braxton 
Toler. AlfWalle 
Technical Crew Clerk/Typist: Rhea Jones 
Sii/)/)l\ Coordinator: Kevin Doran 
Assistant Supply Coorindator: David 

logistics Coordinator: Senain Kheshgi 
Sound Coordinator: Tim Kidwell 
\o»»(/ Technicians: Don Fetterman, Steve 
Fisher, Mark Fitzgerald, Tom Gart- 
land, Mark Griswold, Gregg Lamping. 
Dean Languell.Jens McVoy.John 
Reynolds, Susan White 
Stage Managers: Eric Annis.Jefl Anthony, 
Betty Belanus, Beth Curt en, Liesl 
Dees, John Kemper. Barbara, 
Susan Levitas, Al McKenney, Ilelene 
Sound Crew: Maurice Jackson, John Miel- 

Fiscal Manager: Heather Bittner Bester 
Fiscal Technician: Kay Stiibli 
Clerk/Typist: Linda Benner 
Usistant to the Festival Dint hn : Fijihcm a 

Intern: Gretchen Hunter 
Special Events Coordinator: Yulette George 
Participant Coordinator: Marilyn Abel 
Assistant Participant Coordinators: Maria 

Blown, Rose (ion/ales. Stephanie 

Housing Coordinator: bene Zimmerma'nn 
Sin ml Coordinator: [ohari Rashad 

Foodways Coordinator: Jim Deutsch 
Information/Accessibility Coordinator: John 

luteins: Lisa (.lass. Malina/ Pater-Roy 
Sign Language Interpreters: Candas Barnes, 

[ean Lindquist, Hank Young 
Volunteei Coordinator: J. R. Glover 
Assistant Volunteei Coordinator: Beverly 

( hiej Volunteers: Willette Carlton, Priscilla 

Flowers, Mai ilyn Gaston, Skip Cole, 

Phyllis Agnelli-Lesansky, Sidney 

March, "Virginia McCauley, Neville 

Smithsonian/Folkways I lei mil mi's Director: 

Anthony Seegei 
Recordings Coordinator: Leslie Spitz-Edson 
Recordings .Mail Ordei Manager: Dudlex 

Documentation Coordinator: Jefl Place 
Assistant Documentation Coordinator: Lori 

1 aylor 
Photographers: Eri< Long. Laurie Minor- 

Penland, Dane Periland, Richard 

Strauss. Hugh Talman, Jeff Tinslev. 

Ric k Vargas 
Photography //(/(///Joseph Covell 
Food Concessions Coordinator: Adam Miller 
Program Hunk Sales Coordinator: Debra 

Public Information: Man ( lombs 

New Mexico 

Program Curators: Jose Griego, Andrew 

Research & Program Coordinator: Philippa 

]a< kson 
Program Assistant: Francesc a Mi Lean 
luteins: Cina L'Acqua, Susan Paradise 
Consultants: Olivia Cadaval, Richard 

Festival Aide: Derek 1 .< >w I \ 
Presenters: Charles Carrillo, Andrew Con- 
nors, Jose Griego, Kenneth Keppeler. 
Enrique Lamadrid, Felix Lopez, Tessie 
Xaranjo, Gilbert Sanchez, Maria 
Varela, Andrew Wiget 
Musit Sta<;e M.C.: Claude Stephenson 
Fieldworkers: Tomas Atencio, Charles Car- 
illo, Beaumont Chrisnei . Patricia 
D'Andrea, Tobias Duran. Judith Gold- 
berg, Jose Griego, Jim Harris, Stanley 
Hordes, Theodore Jojola, Kenneth 
Keppeler, Gina L'Acqua. Enrique 
Lamadrid, Katherine l.iden.Jack Loef- 
ffer, Felix Lopez, Helen Lucero, 

Gwendolyn Mintz, Lynn Moncus,. 
Stephan Moore, Pal Music. A. Rudv 
Padilla, Patricia Ruiz. Marilee Schmit. 
Glenda Sours, Elizabeth Taliman. 
Soge Track. Sandra Turner, Maria 
Varela, Marta Wiegle, Peter White 
Research Associate: Denise Joseph 

Creativity and Resistance: Maroon 
Culture in the Americas 

Program Curators: Ken Bilby, Diana 

Program Coordinator: Hector Corporan 

Learning Centei Coordinator: Vivien Chen 

Festival Aide: FcngAVei 

Interns: Deeua Gift, Heidi Cjcrset, Lisa 
Class. Russell [ones. Rachel Watkins. 
Karen Weinstein 

Presenters: Adiante Fransz i, Miguel 

Angel Gutierrez Avila. Ian-Hancock, 
I hi mes Ric bene Martin Libretto, 
Hazel McClune, Heliana Portes de 
Roux, Richard Price, Sally Price 

Fieldworkers: Farika Birhan, Bernhard 
Bisoina, Miguel Angel Gutierrez Avila, 
Ian Hancock. Heliana Portes de Roux 

Regional Coordinators: Thomas Doudou, 
French Guiana; Miguel Angel Gutier- 
rez Avila, Mexico; Ian Hancock. Texas; 
I lermes R.M. Libretto. Suriname; 
Lorenzo Manuel Miranda Torres, 
Heliana Portes de Roux, Colombia; 
Maureen Rowe, Jamaica 

The Changing Soundscape in 
Indian Country 

Program Curator: Thomas Vennum. Jr. 

Program Coordinator: Arlene Reiniger 

Program Assistant: Dennis Fox, Jr. 

Presenters: Elaine Bomberry, Olivia 
Cadaval. Jacob Coin, Rayiva Green, 
Dan Sheehy, Nick Spitzer, Bob Tene- 
quer, Tom Vennum 

Fieldworkers: Keith Secola, Tom Vennum 

Workers at the White House 

Program Curator: Marjorie Hunt 
'Program Cnnrdiiititnr: Ann Dancv 
Festival Aide: Craig Stinson 
Intern: Liesl Dees 
I'n sinters: Marjorie Hunt, Tim Lloyd, 

Worth Long. 
Fieldworkers: Marjorie Hunt, Ann \ , 

Liesl Dees 

You can hear the world ™ on 


Over two thousand Folkways titles on cassette 
Over 60 Smithsonian/Folkways titles on CD 
and cassette 

Folkways and Smithsonian/Folkways are 

two of the ways the Center for Folk life Pro- 
grams and Cultural Studies supports the 

continuity and integrity of traditional 
artists and cultures. Folkways Records, 
founded Iry Moses Asch in 1947, was 
acquired by the Smithsonian Institution 
in 1987 to ensure that all the recordings 
remain available as a sennce to scholars, 
musicians, and the general public. Ml 
2,000 titles capturing the world's music, 
spoken word, and sounds arc available on 
Folkways cassettes. The Smithsonian/ 
Folkways label was founded in 1988 for 
reissues and new recordings on CD and 

For a fire catalogue of all Folkways cas- 
settes and Smithsonian/Folkways release's, 
fill in the card below, fax 202/287- 3699, 
or telephone 202/287-3262. 

You can hear music of 1992 
Festival programs: 

Maroon Program: Drums of Defiance: 
Music of the Jamaican Maroons, the Ear- 
liest Free Black Communities in the Amer- 
icas (SF 40412) 

New Mexico Program: 

All-new digital and historic record- 
ings prepared in collaboration with 
the National Museum of American 

New Mexico: Native American Traditions 
(SF 40408) 

New Mexico: Hispanic Traditions , 

(SF 40409) 

Note: If they are not in the Festival shop, 
look for these recordings after August 1st 
in your local record stores or order them 
from the mail-order address below. 

You can hear the musical 
traditions featured at previous 


Musics oj the Soviet I 'nion (SF 40002) 
Tuva: Music from the Center oj Asia 
.(SF 40017) 

Bukhara: Musical Crossroads of Asm 
(SF 40050) 


Puerto Ricuii Music in Hawai'i 
(SF 40014) 

Hawaiian Drum Dance Chants: 
Sounds of Power in Time (SF 40015) 

World Music of Struggle: We Shall 
Overcome (In collaboration with 
Columbia Recordings: Columbia 
47850, from live recordings at 
the 1990 Festival.) 


Baby Don V You Want to Go: A Tribute to 
the Music of the Robert John son Era (In 
collaboration with Columbia Record- 
ings, from live recordings at the 
1991 Festival. Summer 1992 release < 

Mush 11/ Indonesia 1: Songs Before Dawn 
(SF 40055) 

Music of Indonesia 2: Indonesian 
Popular Music ($F 40056) 
Music of Indonesia 3: Music from the Out- 
skirts of Jakarta (SF 40057) 
Music of Indonesia 4: Music of Nias anil 
North Sumatra (SF 40420) 

Look for these and many other Folkways moldings in the Festival Museum sales area, 
ask for them at your local moid store, or order directly by mail or phone from: Smith- 
sonian/Folkways Recordings, 416 Hungerford Drive Suite 320, Rockville, MD 20850; 
phone 301/443-2314. 

Please send me a free copy of the 
Whole Folkways Catalogue. 






Smithsonian Bureau 
and Office Support 

Office oj the Set man 
Office oj thr I 'nder Secretary 
Office oj the Inspector General 
Office nl the General Counsel 
Office of Publii Affairs 

Office oj the Assistant Secretary fm Education 
is? Public Service 

Office dl Elemental} & Secondary Educa- 

Office nj tlic Assistant Secretary for the Si nuns 
National Museum of Natural History 
Department oi Anthropology 
Handbook of North American Indians 
National Zoological Park 
Office of Fellowships and Grants 

Office <>/ tin Assistant Secretary for the Arts 

& Humanities 

A< i essibility Program 

Ana< ostia Museum 

Nation, il Museum of African Art 
National Museum of American History 
Program in African American Culture 
American Indian Program 
Department of Public Programs 
National Museum of the American Indian 
Office of Exhibits Central 
Office of Quincentenary Programs 

Office nl the Assistant Secretary forExtemal 

Office of International Relations 
( Mlii e ol Special Events and Conference 

( )lli( <■ ol Telecommunications 
\ isitoi Information & Asso< iates' Recep- 
tion ( lentet 

Office of the Assistant Secretary fm Finance 

& Administration 

Business Management Office 

Museum Shops J 

( lommunit ations Management Division 

( >ffi< e ol Information Resoun e 


Qffice of Accounting and Financial 

Servii es 
Office of Contracting and Property 

Office of Facilities Services 

Office of Design & Construction 

Office of Environmental Management 

& Safety 

Office of Plant Services 

Office of Protection Servic es ' 

Office of Financial & Management 

Analysis , 

( )llii e of I Iuman Resources 
Office of Planning and Budget 
( )ffice of Printing and Photographic' 

Servu es 

Duplicating Branch 
Office of Risk Management 
Office of Sponsored Projei ts 
Office of the Treasurer 
Travel Services Office 

Office ij the Assistant Secretary for Institu- 
tional Initiatives 
( )lli( e of Development 

Smithsonian/Folkways Recordings 

416 Hungerford Drive 

Suite 320 

Rockville, MD 20850 



I f the New Mexico exhibit at this year's Festival of 
American Folklife intrigues you, why not discover 
America's Land of Enchantment 
for yourself? 

C xperience the wonders 
of New Mexico first hand. 
From tiiousand-year-old 
Anasazi Indian ruins to mis- 
sion churches established by 
Spanish conquistadores as diey 
searched for the famed seven cities of 
gold, New Mexico has a fascinating history and a 
rich blend of cultures tiiat makes it unlike any 
otiier place on earth. 

L ook out over breadi taking 
mountains and sweepingjnesas. 
Visit Indian pueblos that have been 
continuously inhabited since before 




Columbus set foot in the New World 500 years ago. 
Shop for exquisite New Mexican art and jewelry. 

Enjoy an amazing variety of outdoor 
activities from skiing to ballooning 
to river rafting. And wonder at a 
sky so blue, it amazes even 
die people who live here. 

l^lew Mexico. 
. .'. . ' It's a land of ancient 
K/y- ' origins and intriguing 
conn asts and it's waiting for you. 
Send die card below or call 1-800-545-2040 extension 
9242 for a free vacation guide and plan your journey to 
enchanting New Mexico. 



• NAME: 




New Mexico 


Acoma Pueblo 
Cochiti Pueblo 
Isleta Pueblo 
Jemez Pueblo 
Jicarilla Apacbe Tribe 
Laguna Pueblo 
Mescalero Apache Tribe 
Nambe Pueblo 
Navajo Nation 
Picuris Pueblo 
Pojoaque Pueblo 
Sandia Pueblo 
San Felipe Pueblo 
San Ildefonso Pueblo 
San Juan Pueblo 
Santa Ana Pueblo 
Santa Clara'Pueblo 
Santo Domingo Pueblo 
Taos Pueblo 
Tesuque Pueblo 
Zia Puebl< i 
Zuiii Pueblo 


Aztec Ruins Natl. Monument 
Bandelier Natl. Monument 
Capulin Volcano Natl. Moil. 
Carlsbad Caverns Natl. Park 
Chaco Culture National 

Historical Park 
El Malpais Natl. Monument 
El Mono National Monument 
Fort Union Natl. Monument 
Gila Cliff Dwellings 

National Monument 
Pecos National Monument 
Puve Cliff Dwellings 

National Monument 
Salinas Pueblo Missions 

National Monument 
White Sands Natl. Monument 


Acoma Pueblo Museum 
Albuquerque Museum 
Antonio Sanchez 
Cultural Center 
Arrott Art Gallery 

Artesia Historical Museum 

& Art Center 
Aztec Museum 
Bicentennial Log Cabin 
Billv the Kid Museum 
Black Range Museum 
Blackwater Draw Museum 
Bond House Museum 
Bradbun Science Museum 
Branigan Cultural Center 
Carlsbad Museum & Art Center 
( lentei for ( iontemporary Arts 
Chavez County 

Historical Museum 
Cleveland Roller Mill Museum 
Cloudcroft Historical Museum 
Columbus Historical Museum 
Confederate Air Force Museum 
Deming Center for the Arts 
Deming Luna Mimbres Museum 
El Rain ho de las Golondrinas 
Ernest L. Blumenschein Museum 
Ernie Pyle Memorial 

Bianch Library 
Eula Mae Eduards Museum 
Farmington Museum 
Fine Arts Gallery at State 

Fine Arts Gallery of die Southwest 
Florence Hawlev Ellis Museum 

ol Anthropology 
Folsom Museum 
Francis Mc( Iray Gallery 
Gadsden Museum 
Gen. Douglasl.. McBtide Museum 
Geronimo Springs Museum 
(.host Riinch Living Museum 
Gov. Bent Home & Muse tint 
Herzstein Memorial Museum 
Hubbard An Museum 
Intel national Space I lall of Fame 
Kit Carson Home and Museum 
Las Cru< es Museum oi 

Natural History 


First Class Permit No. 117— Santa Fe, NM 


ROOM 9242 

II..I.I...I.I.I.II IM.I..I.I II. 1. 1,, LI, 






Lea County Cowboy Hall of Fame 
Lea County Museum 
Linam Ranch Museum 
Lincoln County Heritage Trust 

Historical Center Museum 
Log Cabin Museum 
McKee, Carson Museum 
Miles Museum 
Millicent Rogers Museum 
Million Dollar Museum 
Mills Mansion 
Mineralogical Museum 
Mogollon Museum \ 

Moriarry Historical Society 

Museum of Fine Arts 
Museum of Indian Arts &: Culture 
Museum of International Folk Art 
National Atomic Museum 
Natural History Museum at ENMU 
New Mexico Museum of Mining 
New Mexico Museum of 

Natural History 
NMSU Art Gallery 
Old Church of Santo Nino 

Old Fort Sumner Museum 
Old Mill Museum 
Our Lady of Sorrows Church 
Palace of the Governors 
Philmont Museum 
Raton Museum 
Red Mesa Art Outer 
Red Rock Museum 
Roosevelt County Historical 

Roswell Museum & Art Center 
Rough Riders Memorial & 

City Museum 
Sacramento Mountains" 

Historical Societ) Museum 
San |uan Archaeologu al 

Research Center &: Library 
Santa Fe Trail Museum 
Smokey Bear Museum 
Spanish History Museum 
Tamarind Lithography Institute 
Tucumcari Historical Museum 
UNM (.cologv Museum 
UNM Jonson Gallery 
UNM Maxwell Museum of 

UNM Meteoritics Institute 
UNM Museum ol 

Si »uthwestem Biology 

.. .and many more 





Secretary: Robert McC. Adams 
( 'nder Secretary: 

Constance Berry Newman 
Assistant Secretary fm Education and 

Public Service: James Early 
Assistant Secretary for the Sciences: 

Robert Hoffmann 
Assistant Secretary for the Acts and 

Humanities: Tom Freudenheim 
Assistant Secretary for External Affairs: 

Thomas Lovejoy 
Assistant Secretary for Institutional 

Initiatives: AJice Green 

Assistant Secretary fir Finance and 

. Administration: Nancy 

Assistant Secretary Emeritus: 

Ralph Rinzler 

Center for 
Folklife Programs & 
Cultural Studies 

Director: Richard Kurin 
Administrative Officer: 

Barbara Strickland 
Festival Director: Diana Parker 
hi rector, Smithsonian/Folkways 

Recordings: Anthony Seeger 
Senior Folklorist: Peter Seitel 
Senior Ethnomusicologist: 

Thomas Vennum, Jr. 
Director, Quincentenary Programs: 

Olivia Cadaval 
Program Analyst: Richard Kennedy 
Folklorists: Vivien Chen, Diana 

Baird N'Diaye 
Curators: Ken Bilby, Marjorie Hunt 
Program Managers: Carla Borden, 

John Franklin 
Technical Coordinator: Pete Reiniger 
Program Specialist: 

Arlene L. Reiniger 
Fiscal Manager: Heather Bester 
Designer: Joan Wolbier 
Archivist: Jeffrey Place 
Folkways Program Specialist: 

Dudley Connell 
Qu in cen tenary Coordi n ator: 

Celia Heil 
Media Specialist: Guha Shankar 

Assistant Archivist: Fori Taylor 
Assistant to the Director: 

Yulette George 
Folkways Assistant: 

Leslie Spitz-Edson 
Fiscal Technician: Kay Slnbli 
Clerk Typists: Linda Benner, Lidya 

Montes, Minn Tahmassebi 
Research Associates: Betty Belanus, 

Frank Proschan, Nicholas 


Folklife Advisory Council: Roger 
Abrahams, Jacinto Arias, fane 
Beck, Pat Jasper, Barbara 
Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Bernice 
Reagon. John Roberts, Carol 
Robertson, Gilbert Sprauve, 
Jack Tchen, Ricardo Trimillos, 
Carlos Velez-Ibahez 


Sei retary of the Interior: 

Manuel Lujan, Jr. 
Director: fames M. Ridenour 
Regional Director, National Capital 

Region: Robert G. Stanton 
Deputy Regional Director, National 

Capital Region: Chrysandra L. 

Associate Regional Director, Public 

Affairs: Sandra A. Alley 
< Jnef I 'ruled Stales Park Police- 
Robert E. Langston 
Assistant Chief United States Park 

Police: Andre R. Jordan 
Commander, Special Forces: 

Maj. Carl R. Holmberg 
Superintendent, National Capital 

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 Capital 

Region and the Linked States 

Park Police 

New Mexico has been made possible 
with the support of the State of 
New Mexico, Bruce King, Gover- 
nor, with the collaboration of the 
Department of Tourism, the Office 
of Cultural Affairs, the New Mexico 
Arts Division, the Museum of Inter- 
national Folk Art and with I he 
assistance of the Tourism Associa- 
tion of New Mexico. 

Creativity and Resistance: Maroon 
Culture in the Americas has been 
made possible with the support of 
the governments of Colombia, 
French Guiana, Jamaica, Suri- 
name, and Guerrero, Mexico; the 
Texas Commission on the Arts and 
Texas Folklife Resources; Camille 
O. and William H. Cosby, Jr.; Inter- 
American Foundation; and the 
Smithsonian Educational Outreach 

The Changing Soundscape in Indian 
Country, co-sponsored by the 
Smithsonian Institution's National 
Museum of the American Indian, 
has been made possible with the 
support of the Music Performance 
Trust Funds and the government 
of Nicaragua. 

Workers at the White House has been 
made possible through the collabo- 
ration of the White House Histori- 
cal Association which has received 
funding from the National Endow- 
ment for the Humanities, and the 
support of the Johnson Founda- 
tion (Trust) and the Smithsonian 
Institution Special Exhibition 


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