shamanhood and art: traditional and contemporary arts, artists, and shamans

Shamanhood and art

Bibliotheca Shamanistica

Edited by Mihály Hoppál

A series of books on the advances in the studies of shamanism

Volumes in the series:1. Shamanism in Performing Arts. edited by taegon Kim – mihály hoppál with

the assistance of otto J. von sadovszky. Budapest, 1995. 291 p.2. Shamanism in Siberia. edited by Vilmos Diószegi and mihály hoppál. selected

reprints edited by m. hoppál. Budapest, 1996. 189 p.3. Folk Beliefs and Shamanistic Traditions in Siberia. edited by Vilmos Diószegi.

selected reprints edited by mihály hoppál. Budapest, 1996. 248 p.4. Corradi musi, Carla: Shamanism from East to West. Budapest, 1997. 113 p.5. Kister, Daniel A.: Korean Shamanist Ritual. Symbols and Dramas of Transforma-

tion. Budapest, 1997. 178 p.6. Diószegi, Vilmos: Shamanism. (selected Writings of Vilmos Diószegi. edited

by mihály hoppál) Budapest, 1998. 311 p.7. Kim hogart, hyun-key: Kut: Happiness Through Reciprocity. Budapest, 1998.

252 p. 8. Yamada, takako: An Anthropology of Animism and Shamanism. Budapest, 1999.

165 p. 9. Shamanhood, Symbolism and Epic. edited by Juha Pentikäinen in collaboration

with hanna saressalo and Chuner m. taksami. Budapest, 2001. 272 p.10. The Concept of Shamanism: Uses and Abuses. edited by henri-Paul Francfort –

roberte n. hamayon in collaboration with Paul G. Bahn. Budapest, 2001. 408 p.

11. Rediscovery of Shamanic Heritage. edited by mihály hoppál � Gábor Kósa. Bu-dapest, 2003. 360 p.

12. neumann Friedman, eva Jane: Sacred Geography: Shamanism Among the Bud-dhist Peoples of Russia. Budapest, 2004. 324 p.

13. hoppál, mihály: Shamans and Traditions. Budapest, 2007. 188 p.

Volume 14

AKADÉMIAI KIADÓ BUDAPESTPOLISH INSTITUTE OF WORLD ART STUDIES & TAKO PUBLISHING HOUSE

WARSAW – TORUN 2014

Shamanhood and artEdited by

Elvira Eevr Djaltchinova-Malec

P O L I S H I N ST I T U T E O F WO R L D A RT ST U D I ES

Editorial Committee for the volume:Mihály Hoppál • Jerzy Malinowski • Andrzej Rozwadowski

This publication has been financed by:The Ministry of Science and Higher Education of the Republic of Poland

(agreement no. 835/P-DUN/2013)

This volume is the result of the 10th International Societyfor Shamanistic Research Conference held in Warsaw 5–9 October 2011.

The Conference was organized by the State Ethnographic Museum in Warsaw, the Polish Institute of World Art Studies,

the Institute of Eastern Studies at the Adam Mickiewicz University in Poznan, and the International Society for Shamanistic Research

Reviewers:Dr hab. Zoja Morochojewa

Dr. hab. Jerzy Tulisow

Photos:Authors’ archives (unless otherwise stated)

Front cover picture: Colored dress from the northern Katmandu valley. Tischenko Collection.

Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012

HU ISSN 1218–988XHU ISBN 978–963–567–057–4 PL ISBN 978-83-62737-36-9

© Copyright by the Polish Institute of World Art Studies & The Authors© Copyright by the Tako Publishing House, 2014

Published by:

Akadémiai KiadóPrielle Kornélia u. 19/D

H-1117 Budapest, Hungarywww.akkrt.hu

&Polish Institute of World Art Studies

ul. Warecka 4/6–1000–040 Warsaw, Poland

www.world-art.pl&

Tako Publishing HouseUl. Słowackiego 71/587–100 Toruń, Poland

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This book can be ordered by mail:Polish Institute of World Art Studies: [email protected]

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mailto:[email protected]

Spis treści

Umberto Sansonithe shamanic-ecstatic hypothesis for the Alpine rock art of Valcomonica. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

Kenneth Lymersensuous Visions: encountering the shamanistic rock art of the Bayan Jurek mountains, Kazakhstan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

Inga-Maria MulkDepictions in sami rock art of the mother earth figure. . . . . . . . . . . . . 47

Zaur HasanovArgimpasa – scythian goddess, patroness of shamans: a comparison of historical, archaeological, linguistic and ethnographic data . . . . . . . 73

Giovannni Kezichthe bear and the plough: shamanism in the neolithic. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

Pi-Chen LiuFrom shamanic rituals to theatre and cultural industry: the state, shamanism and gender among the Kavalan (taiwan) . . . . . 109

Eva Jane Neumann Fridmanmongolian shamanism envisaged, embodied . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123

Lia ZolaWomen shamans and their portrayal in the olonkho sakha epic poems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145

Dagmar Eignerthe poetics of healing: shamanic rituals in Central nepal. . . . . . . . . . . 157

Diana Riboliinadvertent art. icons, music and dance in Chepang (nepal) and semang-negrito (Peninsular malaysia) shamanism. . . . . . . . . . . . . 171

Hee Sook Lee-NiiniojaArtistic expressions of the visual language on sami ritual drums . . . . 179

Vesa Matteo Piluduthe ritual art and paraphernalia of the nepalese jhankris and tamang bombo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191

Denita BenyshekArtists as shamans: historical review and recent theoretical model . . 211

Barbara Wilhelmi Perspectives on the arts of Parbati . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241

Daniel A. Kistershamanic artistry in a French Absurdist play. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251

Carla Corradi Musithe shamanic works of minsalim timergazeev and other artists of the First international Woodcarving Festival of uvat . . . . . . . . . . . . 261

Jürgen Werner Kremernorval morrisseau — shaman-Artist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279

Susan Michaelsonthe hand on the wall of the cave. exploring connections between shamanism and the visual arts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291

Gilah Yelin HirschArtist as shaman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309

Shamanhood and artedited by


Umberto Sansoni

The shamanic-ecstatic hypothesis for the Alpine rock art of Valcomonica

Introductionshamanism and similar ecstatic techniques are highly important features with-in the magico-religious traditions of ancient and historical cultures, while also demonstrating clear foundations in prehistoric and proto-historic contexts. it is only by considering the vast distribution in time and space of the variety of cul-tures and the deep connections with basilar psychological structures (Bolmida 2012; sansoni 2012) that we can propose with confidence the animist-shamanic complex, or at least its roots, is the most ancient religious practices experienced by Homo sapiens. moreover, recent studies have detected the fundamental role of shamanism within hunter-gatherer types of societies since Palaeolithic times (e.g., lewis Williams 1992; Clottes, lewis Williams 1996). this deep-seated role still strongly persists in some nomadic-pastoralist contexts, while seemingly has decreased among farming groups to the point where it disappears with the first occurrence of segmented urban societies. the implications are whenever a soci-ety becomes complex and organized, it also starts to develop divergent ways of interacting with the spiritual world, thus ‘sublimating’ and frankly marginaliz-ing animistic-shamanic experiences. in fact, this kind of approach to spirituality is very hard to regulate, considering the deep personal connection of involved individuals with the sacred and nature. But still, some distinctive traits of sha-manism – such as lucid visions which can sometimes be assimilated into trance (the soul’s flight), the role of animal guides, fighting off demons, different magi-cal therapies, the use of hallucinogens, etc. – are preserved in both oriental and occidental mysticism. Additionally, we have evidence of shamanic practices de-rived from historical texts since ancient Greek and roman times as well as the

8 Umberto Sansoni

wider mythological and folkloristic heritage of the middle and modern Ages. in particular, there is the case of the ‘Benandanti’ in the eastern Alps who were ac-tive until the 16th century (and eradicated by the italian inquisition), or the il-lyrian ‘Krasniki’, the serbian ‘Zduhac’, the hungarian ‘tàitos’ (until 18th century) as well as some other notable German and mediterranean traditions.

the huge diversity of visionary experiences among different cultural groups is, in fact, a reflection of the variety ways in which societies connect with the religious world. But the strong connection between known shamanic practices of trance techniques is also clear. these can be associated with the use of halluci-nogens, fasting, sensorial deprivations, visions (sometimes triggered by mental dissociations linked with schizophrenia and epilepsy), the incubation of dreams, music, singing, dance (often accompanied with the rhythmic sound of a drum), the conscious and controlled exit of the soul from the body for travel (or ‘magic flight’), encounters with spirits or gods, the visitation of spirit guides in form of animals (in certain cases fantastic or anthropomorphic), the passage into the upper or lower world (through tunnels, stairs or bridges), and an organized cosmology that has a central point (axis mundi) which may be the World tree or the tree of life.

it must be emphasized that a shaman should not to be confused with a priest; he or she is an active practitioner and not a passive receiver of mystical mes-sages such as a medium. moreover, he or she perceives the spiritual other-world as real, the truly genuine one and when compared to our world it looks like a lie (Jivaro of equador) or a ‘faded dream’ (Drury 1995).

Finally, the rite of initiation is a very important characteristic of shamanism as it facilitates spiritual ascension which provides direct knowledge about both the real and the spiritual world. Additionally, shamanic rituals tend to magi-cally focus upon a practical goal of which the most well known form is to cure an illness; however, there are other objectives, such as guiding a deceased’s soul, hunting success, fixing broken taboos and rebuilding cosmic harmony between different worlds.

Rock art and shamanism

When considering the wide expanse of the phenomenon, its archaism and its basis in so-called animism, it is likely shamanism is one of the most ancient manifestations of sacred experiences among early Homo sapiens. Palaeolithic cave art, though still subject to vigorous debate, provides us with strong clues about this religiosity; however, post-Palaeolithic rock art undoubtedly provides incontrovertible evidence, such as the case of the Bushmen rock paintings (lew-is Williams 1981, 1987). the fundamental role of shamanism in society is an

9The shamanic-ecstatic hypothesis for the Alpine rock art of Valcomonica

undeniable fact in Australia, Central Asia, siberia, south Africa, Central and north America, and in many other regions across the world. in the northern part of Africa, i also advanced the same hypothesis for the pre-neolithic round head rock paintings of the Central sahara region. here there are a few scenes closely similar to specific compositions from southern Africa that are related to trance dance, soul flights and animal figures with special characteristics (san-soni 1994).

Prehistoric and Proto-historic Europe

surely, prehistoric societies in Central and Western europe must have experi-enced some form of shamanic expressions that displayed characteristics spe-cific to their regions. moreover, these practices can be discernable through the careful examination of ancient iconography and mythology. in regards to this, there is no doubt that rock art plays an important role in providing evidence of the possibility, if not the complexity, of prehistoric images that truly repre-sent sacred domains. however, it is not by chance that the academic interest for shamanic-animistic themes should inform our investigations into the rock art of europe, more specifically from the cave paintings of France and spain to the Alpine rock carvings of north-eastern italy.

With regards the post-Palaeolithic period in europe, one crucial question is that of the movements of the indo-european speaking cultures. in summary, it is accepted that there was a first wave which came into Western europe during the late 4th millennium BCe. they then generally spread throughout all europe (Bell-beaker culture) and firmly established themselves by the Bronze Age, 2nd millennium BCe, as recently confirmed by palaeogenetic studies (Cavalli-sforza, menozzi, Piazza 1994; Cavalli-sforza 2001, Bocchi, Ceruti 2001). moreover, it is easy to discern the concordances between the western and eastern groups of indo-europeans through their religious and symbolic traditions, not only due to traces of mythological-ritual patterns from the early historic period, but also to the evidence of iconography from contexts dating to the 2nd millennium BCe. Consequently, a common social-ideological identity can be discerned which is confirmed by data accumulated from the fields of archaeology, palaeogenetics, linguistics as well as those of art history and the phenomenology of religions.

however, how does shamanism fit into this european context? Compelling evidence comes from examining the traits of an eastern indo-european group known as the indo-iranians. in particular, the rock art of Central Asia from the end of 3rd millennium BCe to the 2nd millennium BCe have semiotic-mythic connections to the early written sources of the indian Vedas and the iranian Av-esta (rozwadowski 2002, 2004). there is a possibility that some shamanic influ-ences could have diffused from very ancient Asian cultures into the indo-irani-

10 Umberto Sansoni

ans and were shared with the indo-european tribes while they were still united. these two groups then split with the indo-iranians moving south and east while the indo-europeans turned towards the west and extended its influence across all europe. however, a second wave of indo-iranians, the iranian speaking saka-scythians, also reached the Balkans in the later part of the 1st millennium BCe.

echoes of the original indo-european/indo-iranian unity are detectable in elements of the shamanic-ecstatic phenomena, as testified by the ritual evi-dence and iconographic data, such as the rock art imagery from the late 4th millennium BCe to 2nd millennium BCe. the mythological texts of the Vedas and Avesta also importantly provide us with early source materials on shamanic characteristics. For example, the great importance and value of the soma-haoma drink within the rituals is well known and clearly relate to ambrosia and nectar, the drink of the gods, in the Greek myths. Soma-haoma is probably linked to the emergence of alcoholic (or other) drinks during the 3rd millennium BCe and echoes of similar value are found later within the Greek cycle of myths about Dionysus, the god of wine and ecstasy-enthousiasmós. moreover, there was also the general spread of ritual vessels for drinking found in the funerary contexts of the Corded Ware Culture (2900–2400 BCe) and replaced by the Bell-Beaker Culture (2400–2200 BCe), which were the first cultures that appeared to be so widespread across europe.

it then follows that it would be a potentially fruitful avenue of research to compare the expressions of rock art from the west (especially the Alps and scan-dinavia) with the east from Central Asia during the Chalcolithic and Bronze Ages. upon an initial inspection both regions share a common range of depic-tions (horses, chariots, warriors, praying figures, humans with ‘big hands’, weap-ons, solar symbols, etc.) which may hold underlying common themes. moreover, they may be links between the rock art representations from east to west that connect with elements of shamanic themes and rituals.

ValcamonicaWith regards to iconography, the rock art of Valcamonica (Camonica Valley) in the Central Alps of north-eastern italy provides valuable clues for traces of ancient indo-european shamanism. the rock art heritage of Valcamonica is de-fined by four chronological phases:

a) the epipaleolithic phase (circa 7th millennium BCe). in this earliest phase the rock carvings depict wild animals, such as deer, elk and wild goats, that are expressions of hunter-gatherers, such as north American eskimos and the si-berian tribes. shamanic elements can be carefully discerned within this cultural horizon. nevertheless, the engravings at Valcamonica, Crape and luine are de-picted in a semi-natural, stylized pattern that gives us no hint to their symbol-


ic, cosmologic, religious meanings, as opposed to the images of wild animals in Palaeolithic art.

b) the schematic phase of the late neolithic and Chalcolithic (late 4th mil-lennium BCe to beginning of the 3rd millennium BCe). shamanic elements are often connected to the appearance of specific human images.

c) the middle and late Chalcolithic phase (3rd millennium BCe). this is when indo-european themes become fully developed in the rock art of Valca-monica. A great number of symbols are carved on stelae and boulders. these ob-serve a strict compositional order involving circles, solar-symbols, weapons, hu-man figures, symbols of the feminine, animals and abstract signs. subsequently, during the Bronze Age compositional rules were less strict and shamanic ele-ments can often be found related to human images.

d) the iron Age phase (1st millennium BCe). the meanings of the rock art of Valcamonica develop great ideological complexity which focus upon the im-ages of warriors. the importance of armed men are linked to mythical-religious meanings and feature links to indo-european ideology and values. most of the engravings represent mythical scenes and many carvings have ‘visionary’ fea-tures that describe some kind of magic or ritual. some rock art images use ani-mal figures as symbols, often with funerary value. Among the scenes, some pan-els are related to the shamanic context.

From within the above phases, the carvings of shamanism have been then divided into two main typological groups:

1. Human or anthropomorphic images

some or the human images represent humans (or human-like beings) with big open hands: this particular feature can be found all over the Alpine region from the neolithic to iron Age and up till the late middle Ages. these engravings usually represent figures executed in a praying position; they usually occur in the central part of the carved panel and are bigger than the surrounding human figures. in turn, they are also often related with meaningful signs and/or ani-mals. Besides the exceptional nature of their open hands, they sometimes also have oversized feet and sexual attributes. it is a common pattern found world-wide in shamanic contexts (sansoni 1983) that could represent deities, ‘spirits’, sacred persons or shamans; unfortunately, the carvings do not provide enough information to discern their meanings. important specific scenes of shamanism from Valcomonica are as follows:

At naquane (rock 1) and Campanine (rock 16), which date to the 4th millen-nium BCe, there are two schematic figures (male and female) with raised arms and open hands. they may be reciting prayers, dancing or it could possibly refer to a trance ceremony.

12 Umberto Sansoni

Furthermore, upon naquane (rock 1) we find four images of women execut-ed in schematic style with big open hands. the heads and necks of two of them are detached from their shoulders, perhaps representing the splitting of a sha-man during the trance (Fig. 1). Additionally, upon the same rock dating to the 4th millennium BCe were engraved two human figures (male, schematic style), with big open hands and naturalistic sexual attributes. these figures were sur-rounded by iron Age depictions of a herd of deer, dogs and two birds in a close association; thus, redefining these two humans as ‘masters of animals’ in the iron Age. A similar meaning could be assigned to a scene nearby, where a stag and a human bust were added in the middle iron Age to a human figure with open hands that was engraved during the Bronze Age.

human busts (i.e. humans without the lower part of the body) are a motif frequently found during the Chalcolithic to late iron Age; they rarely hold weap-ons, and are often closely associated with human and animal figures, granary-huts (connected to funerary symbolism) and other scenes. this class of images could also, perhaps, represent guardian spirits, ancestors and, especially when big open hands are featured, even shamans during their ‘soul travels’.

Fig. 1. Campanine Rock 61. Warrior upon a couple of ducks (Middle Iron Age)

Fig. 2. Naquane, Rock 35. Running figure with a solar-shaped head (Middle Iron Age)


Another spectacular panel with the ‘big open hand’ pattern is found at Cereto (rock 28), where the so-called ‘enchantment scene’ (Fig. 2) was engraved in the middle iron Age. it features two humans with big open hands who are standing in front of an armless man. meanwhile, human beings with big open hands that seem to ‘fly’ among other fig-ures are found at naquane (rocks 41 and 66), Foppe di nadro (rocks 20, 23 and 35). this type of scene could be representations of shamanic ‘soul travels’ as the big open hands may symbolize an active power.

it is important to point out that there are panels found in eve-ry chronological phase which have dance scenes (ragazzi 1995). these often show the use of drums, such as the scenes carved at Zurla and Foppe di nadro. As we all know dance, song and rhythm are important compo-nents of shamanic ceremonies.

2. Animals and hybrids (anthropomorphic and zoomorphic figures)

the rock art of Valcamonica, especially during the iron Age, is rich with fantastic depictions of human and animal images, such as two- or three-headed human figures, deer with unrealistic antlers, horned snakes, figures on stilts, animals with nine legs and labyrinth-like patterns.

Deerthe mere presence of depictions of deer with antlers (“the typical mark for

a shaman”: salmony 1968) could lead us directly into the shamanic world. there are many correspondences between the myth of deer and shamanism among si-berian and Asian cultures and hints of similar phenomena could be found in the myths belonging to the scythian and Germanic and Celtic tribes (Citroni 1990). the deer has a deep symbolic meaning (marazzi 1984, Camuri 1994) as its pri-mary role is to be a medium between different worlds and dimensions; a vehicle and a guide both for shamans and souls. there are images of humans riding

Fig. 3. Naquane, Rock 73. The probable image of the Celtic God Kernunnos (Middle to Late Iron Age)

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Fig. 4. Naquane, Rock 57. Riding stags (Middle Iron Age, tracing A. Fossati)

Fig. 5. Zurla, Rock 1. A couple of dancing warriors or musicians with drums and rods (Middle Iron Age)


deer in Valcamonica (naquane rock 14, Fig. 6; Cemmo 1, Chalcolithic; Foppe di nadro rock 26, Fig. 5, Bronze Age, naquane rock 57, Fig. 4, iron Age) and the association between deer and busts/warriors/praying figures could be relevant to this symbolic context. moreover, there is the large depiction of a big anthro-pomorphic figure wearing deer antlers that may be considered to be the Celtic god Kernunnos (naquane rock 70, middle iron Age, Fig. 3).

Horseshorses often share with the deer the same symbolic meaning and it is often

perceived as a vehicle for soul travel by siberian shamans. there are many en-graved images of horses in Valcamonica and many horse riders; some riders are even standing upright and keeping their balance on the horse’s back. At Cam-panine (rock 49) was engraved the image of a two-headed horse which dates to the middle iron Age.

DogsDogs often have connections to shamanism as well as to the other-world,

which is found in Classical and middle-european myths. in Valcamonica many dogs are depicted near warriors (Fig. 17), praying humans and other figures (perhaps dead persons?). there are dogs involved in ceremonies and cults with praying men (Foppe di nadro rock 27) and in a similar scene a dog’s head is used at Foppe di nadro rock 35. At Pià d’ort (rock 39) three dogs were represented with doubles of their figures as if they were mirrored; perhaps, to make visible the ‘double symbolic dimension’ of the animal.

BirdsBirds are symbols of the soul and traditional animal spirit guides during the

soul’s travels. Birds are constantly imbued with sacred meanings throughout the world. they are frequently represented in rock art (Colotto 1997) and at Valc-monica often linked with human figures (praying persons and warriors), grana-ry-huts and labyrinths, the symbols of the initiatory journey (see for example naquane rock 1, Campanine rock 1, Foppe di nadro rock 60). many aquatic birds were engraved at Campanine during the middle iron Age (sansoni, Gavaldo 1998, 2009, Fig. 15) and some evocative scenes feature human figures seeming to be riding on birds (rock 49, Fig. 13), standing on the back of a bird (rock 50, Fig. 18 and rock 11, Fig. 11) or holding a bird by its tail (rock 50, Fig. 16). the most interesting image is the engraving of a warrior, wearing a crested helmet, a sword and mantel, who is standing on two birds (rock 62, Fig. 12). Another warrior riding an aquatic bird is also found at Coren del Valento (Fossati 1994, Fig. 14). these figures are comparable to the depictions of small boats decorated

[16]

Fig. 6. Bedolina, Rock 17. Anthropozoomorphic figure with bird shape head in fighting attitude (Middle Iron Age)

Fig. 7. Dos del Pater, Rock 6. ‘Wolf' with huge jaws near an incomplete horse (Middle Iron Age)

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Fig. 8. Ronchi di Zir. A chest with arms spread of a natural breach (Late Neolithic or Middle Bronze Age)

Fig. 9. Campanine, Rock 50. Orants with the body on the line of a crevice (Late Neolithic)

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Fig. 10. Ossimo, Rock 8. Stele with a solar-headed anthropomorphic figure on the top of composition (Copper Age)

Fig. 11. Pagherina, Rock 1. Female with big hands (Late Neolithic)

Fig. 12. Naquane, Rock 1. Females with big hands and abnormally long necks or their heads separated by the body (Middle to Late Bronze Age)

[19]

Fig. 13. Naquane, Rock 1.

A corral scene with a line of female orants over a female with big hands; perhaps scenes of trance (Bronze Age)

Fig. 14. Campanine, Rock 49. An aquatic bird being riden by a knight adorned with deer antlers (Middle Iron Age)

Fig. 15. Zurla, Rock 12. Horse carrying the wheel (Early to Middle Iron Age)

20 Umberto Sansoni

Fig. 17. Campanine, Rock 49. A double-headed horse being ridden by a warrior (Middle Iron Age)

Fig. 16. Zurla, Rock 31. Huts-burns and a dog transformed in anthropozoomorphic figure with the addition of legs (Early Iron Age)


with bird-headed bows and sterns engraved at naquane (rock 50); some of them even carry an inscription which may probably be the name of a dead warrior. Ad-ditionally, a horizontal human figure is represented flying above a famous panel crowded with praying humans (late neolithic, naquane rock 50).

Bird masksnotably, some human figures wear a mask with a bird’s beak. such depic-

tions date to the middle iron Age at naquane rock 14 and Bedolina rock 17. At Foppe di nadro (rock 6) a pair of fighters are depicted wearing bird’s beaks and crests of feathers. some of the fighting scenes could represent the “interior fight between the conscious and unconscious” mind of the shaman during his attempt to reach trance (Citroni 1990).

Other fantastic creatures there are many figures of animals and humans at Valcomonica that display

unrealistic and ‘strange’ details in their representation. the most peculiar ones are found at Foppe di nadro as on rock 27 there is the so-called ‘Butterfly idol’ scene; a schematic man is worshipping or invoking a flying, winged crea-ture (late neolithic), while on rock 24 a human figure is placed in front of an animal, maybe a young stag, that has nine legs (middle iron Age, Fig. 7). this multi-legged creature is similar to sleipnir, the fabulous eight-legged steed of odin in the nordic mythology that faithfully carries the shaman-god and his son hermod through the gate of hel. other horses are found in German, indian and Japanese myths which feature the same number of limbs and these creatures are also able to journey to the land of the dead (eliade 1974).

in addition, it is also important to note that there are many other types of scenes at Valcomonica which appear to be relevant to shamanism. in particular, the depiction of ladders (naquane rocks 4, 11, 44; Foppe di nadro rock 27) that are symbols of passage and ascension.

Conclusionthe above discussions are but only preliminary investigations into the rock art of Valcamonica; notwithstanding, it is very likely that the Camunian culture – along the nearly ten thousand years of its history – has experienced shamanic phenomenon. the shamanic elements were not a marginalized part of their cul-tures, especially during the iron Age when the society grew in complexity. more-over, shamanism undoubtedly exerted a strong influence upon the traditions expressed in the rock art. in many cultures hallucinogens are a traditional way to reach the state of trance and we must not forget that in Valcamonica some

22 Umberto Sansoni

hallucinogenic plants can be found (Amanita muscaria and succulents: samorini 1990 and personal communication) – the hypothetical possibility of their use during pre- and proto-history is very strong. therefore, we need to further in-vestigate more deeply the role played by shamanism in relation to the rock art carvings. seeking more enlightening details will enable us to develop our sha-manic-ecstatic hypothesis further and allow us to gain a greater understanding of the rock art heritage of Valcamonica.

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Comune di Chiusi della Verna.Cavalli-sforza, l.l., menozzi, P. and Piazza, A. 1994. The history and geography of human

genes. Princeton: Princeton university Press. Cavalli-sforza, l.l. 2001. Genes, people and languages. Berkeley: university of California. Citroni, m.C. 1990. i simboli originari del processo di conoscenza esaminati attraverso

alcune sorprendeti analogie tra le incisioni rupestri camune, la storia delle religioni; l’alchimia, l’antropologia, il folklore. Appunti 11: 4–40.

Clottes, J. 1998. Questions sue l’hypothèse shamanique dans l’art palèolithique. in Scia-manismo e mito (Conference papers of the XVi Valcamonica symposium 1998). Ca-podiponte: Centro Camuno di studi Preistorici.

Clottes, J. and lewis-Williams, J.D. 1996. Les chamanes de la prèhistoire. Transe et magie dans les grottes ornéé. Paris: le seuil.

Colotto, F. 1997. Le raffigurazioni di uccelli nell’arte rupestre camuna, tesi di laurea. tesi di laurea: università degli studi di trieste.


Datta, A. 1998. shamanism and the indian rock paintings. in Sciamanismo e mito (Con-ference papers of the XVi Valcamonica symposium 1998). Capodiponte: Centro Ca-muno di studi Preistorici.

Drury, n. 1995. Gli sciamani. milano: Xenia.eliade, m. 1974. Lo sciamanesimo e le tecniche dell’estasi. roma: edizioni mediterranee.Fossati, A. 1994. Acqua, armi e uccelli nell’arte rupestre camuna. Notizie Archeologiche

Bergomensi 2: 213–216.lewis-Williams, J.D. 1992. ethnographic evidence relating to ‘trace’ and ‘shamans’

among northern and southern Bushmen. South African Archaeological Bulletin 47: 56–60.

massari, s. and malzoleni, G. 2002. Il volo dello Sciamano. Simboli dell’arte e delle culture siberiane. roma: De luca editori dell’Arte.

marazzi, u. 1934. Testi dello sciamanesimo siberiano e centro-asiatico. torino: utet.Pentikäinen, J. 1998. Shamanism and Culture. helsinki: entika Co.Price, n.s. (ed.) 2001. The archaeology of shamanism. london & new York: routledge.ragazzi, G. 1994. Danza armate e realtà ctonia nel repertorio iconografico camuno

dell’età del Ferro. Notizie Archeologiche Bergomensi 2: 235–248.rouget, G. 1980. La musique et la trance. Paris: Édition Gallimard.rozwadowski, A. and Kośko, m.m. (eds) 2002. Spirits and stones: Shamanism and rock art

in Central Asia and Siberia. Poznań: instytut Wschodni uAm.rozwadowski, A. 2004. Symbols through time: Interpreting the rock art of Central Asia.

Poznań: instytut Wschodni uAm.salmony, A. 1968. Corna e lingua. milano: Adelphi.sansoni, u. 1983. note sullo studio del simbolismo nell’arte rupestre. in Prehistoric Art

and Religion. Acts of the Valcamonica Symposium 1979, 439–444. Capodiponte: edi-zioni del Centro, milano: Jaca Book.

sansoni, u. 1994. Le più antiche pitture del Sahara. L’arte delle Teste Rotonde. milano: Jaca Book.

sansoni, u. 2012. l’orante, lo sciamano e Platone: (libere) riflessioni sulle radici sim-boliche. in e. Anati (ed.) Espressioni intellettuali e spirituali dei popoli senza scrittura. Capodiponte, 189–196. Capodiponte: Atelier.

sansoni, u. and Gavaldo, s. 1998. l’ipotesi sciamanica nell’arte rupestre della Valleca-monica. nota per un’ indagine. in Sciamanismo e mito (Conference papers of the XVi Valcamonica symposium 1998). Capodiponte: Centro Camuno di studi Preistorici.

sansoni, u., Gavaldo, s. 2009. Lucus rupestris. Sei millenni d’arte rupestre a Campanine di Cimbergo. Capodiponte: edizioni del Centro.



Kenneth Lymer

Sensuous Visions: Encountering the shamanistic rock art of the Bayan Jurek Mountains, Kazakhstan

Introductiontraditionally, unusual anthropomorphic figures found at rock art sites around the world are interpreted through the lens of primitive religion and inevitably become described as ‘masked men’ or ‘sorcerers’ performing savage rites. these descriptions have been used time and time again as convenient hold all explana-tions for many human-like figures that appear out of the ordinary to Western eyes. moreover, such interpretations are problematic as they fetishize the role of ancient images and conceive them as only the snapshots of irrational prehis-toric rituals. unfortunately, such out-of-date notions cast the phenomenon of rock imagery as simply the product of ‘primitive superstition’. rock art, how-ever, is one of the more elemental forms of material culture as its production involves the direct sensual engagement with natural stone surfaces found in the landscape.

in order to readdress the simplistic narrative of primitive religion the ensu-ing discussions seek to engage with the two shamanistic figures that came to light in the mountains of Bayan Jurek1, southeastern Kazakhstan (samashev 1998, 1999, 2002; lymer 1999, 2004, 2006a, 2006b). the rock art complex of Bayan Jurek has been archaeologically surveyed since the 1990s and researchers found an extensive collection of petroglyphs (images carved into natural stone)

1 the russian form Баян Журек can also be transliterated into english as Bayan Zhurek (from the editorial committee).

26 Kenneth Lymer

covering the exposed sandstone surfaces of the southwestern slopes. Among these images, which include the depictions of deer, ibex, horse-riders, etc., were discovered two dancing human figures with elaborate headdresses (Figs 1 & 2). they are similar to other rock art depictions of human figures found in Central Asia and south siberia during the 2nd millennium bce (samashev 2002: 36–37) and provide tantalizing clues about the deep history of shamanistic practices in the region. moreover, fresher understandings about the Bayan Jurek rock im-ages are also possible through a closer examination of the ways in which they are sensually encountered through people’s dynamic interactions with the world around them.

Bronze Age Religion in Kazakhstanthe understanding, however, of religious phenomena in Kazakhstan and Central Asia during the Bronze Age, circa 2nd millennium bce, is a vexed issue amongst scholars. notably, henri-Paul Francfort (1998, 2001) has questioned the idea of prehistoric shamanism and has argued there are no traces of it in the archaeolog-ical cultures of this region, such as the Andronovo. Furthermore, he suggests the occurrence of unusual anthropomorphic figures found at Central Asian rock art sites could have, perhaps, represented archaic representations of indo-iranian solar gods, such as mithra (Francfort 1998: 307; cf. Kuz’mina 1986, 119–122).

moreover, in his article on the prehistory of shamanism in inner Asia (2001), Francfort clearly asserts at the top of page 260 that ancient indo-european and indo-iranian religions are incompatible with shamanism. Within the same para-graph a few lines later, he further states that no trace of shamanism is found in the steppes of inner Asia during the 2nd millennium bce; however, this posi-tion is contradicted in the next sentence as he then points out that the famous petroglyph site of tamgaly in southeast Kazakhstan, located in the Andronovo cultural zone, displays iconography which can “equally well be interpreted as indo-iranian or shamanic” (Francfort 2001: 260). Finally, in the first sentence of the next subsequent paragraph, Francfort tells us that in “Central Asia it is pos-sible to suspect the existence of a trend of shamanic type in Kazakhstan” (ibid.) as well as in the agricultural civilizations of the Chalcolithic and the Bronze Age until the end of the 3rd millennium bce along the iranian plateau and uzbeki-stan, which were stocked by indo-iranian cultures. overall, these conflicting statements are highly problematic as they rely on culture-historical frameworks fixed within a monolithic interpretation of culture and religion.

First of all, the Andronovo period covers the entire 2nd millennium bce and it is considered by many archaeologists to be the quintessential progenitor of indo-iranian culture that fills a territory extending from the southern urals to

27Sensuous Visions: Encountering the shamanistic rock art of the Bayan Jurek Mountains

Central Asia (e.g., mallory 1989; Kuzmina 2007, 2008). the definition of what the Andronovo archaeological culture actually entails, however, is still a matter of debate as numerous classifications and explanations of its material culture have been proposed since the 20th century (for a historical review of theories see ismagulov 1970: 7–8 and Koryakova and epimakhov 2007: 123–127). the current consensus considers the Andronovo to be a super-culture that starts from the southern urals and moves down into Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and tajikistan. it has several regional variations known as the Alakul, Alekseevka, Fedorovo and Petrovka archaeological cultures, but there is still much disagree-ment among scholars about their dating and interrelationships (Koryakova & epimakhov 2007: 126). moreover, there is great degree of variability and overlap among the ceramic vessels, material culture from settlements and archaeologi-cal evidence from burials that make the pinning down of typologies for these regional cultures a difficult task (Frachetti 2008: 59–69).

the second problem focuses around how supporters of the indo-iranian hy-pothesis seek features taken from ancient india and iran to model prehistoric modes of religion in the archaeological cultures of Central Asia. notions about the nature of Bronze Age religiosity are based in part on the fact that priestly classes operated within ancient indian and iranian societies (e.g., lincoln 1981). this is then taken further by followers of the monolithic point of view and in-sists a single culture is only capable of operating one type of religious institution at one time (i.e. priests) – the possibility of a multiplicity of beliefs and prac-tices in indo-iranian societies is rejected. We know, however, from the ethno-graphic record that the tajik people, who speak an iranian based language and practice islam, conduct shamanic practices similar to siberian ones, but have special cultural attributes linked to the socio-political history of tajik shaman-ism (Basilov 1992). therefore, the Bronze Age religion of Kazakhstan, like any other religion from any other time period in history, was undoubtedly a multi-faceted phenomenon with many complexities and contradictions taking place within the lives of people, which cannot solely be reduced down to simplistic typologies (lymer 2010). moreover, religion is lived through the lives of indi-viduals in a community. Accordingly, lived religion is a participatory form of hu-man activity requiring the negotiation of relationships with other ‘persons’, be it human or other-than-human, and these form a tangled web in which they are experienced in a variety of ways through the expression of people’s daily lives.

A different perspective to the above monolithic hypothesis, however, has been put forward by Grigory Bongard-levin and edvin Grantovskii (1974, 1976). they point out, from the basis of comparative analyses between indo-iranian texts, it is possible to view specific cultural elements as having shamanistic con-notations. in particular, some experiences from the consumption of the ritually

28 Kenneth Lymer

important hallucinogenic drink soma (haoma, Avestan), mentioned in Vedic and Avestan texts, are ecstatic (Bongard-levin and Grantovskii 1974: 87–88; cf. Flat-tery and schwartz 1989). Soma is often identified with the eagle who brings it to the god indra (Rig Veda iV, 18) and indra, in turn, then rides an eagle in or-der to fetch soma from heaven (Rig Veda iV, 26–27). notably, these raptors are often known to be the spirit guides of siberian shamans (e.g., Balzer 1996) and they assisted them in shamanic soul flights. Furthermore, Bongard-levin and Grantovskii (1974: 93) suggest, as the early indo-iranians spread across Central Asia they most likely encountered and, perhaps, even absorbed non-indo-irani-an peoples with shamanistic traditions.

With regards to the case of the petroglyph complex of tamgaly, Andrzej ro-zwadowski (1999, 2001, 2003) has demonstrated the combination of indo-irani-an and shamanistic approaches can both provide vital clues towards the under-standing of rock art imagery during the Bronze Age. he began his enquiries by employing a semiotic-cultural perspective that maps the syntax and symbolism of the rock art through models of indo-iranian mythology. some aspects of the petroglyphs, however, were also found to have correspondences to shamanism. in particular, the anthropomorphic figures famous for having enlarged heads radiating lines and nimbus halos were visionary and may have had connections to soma experiences (rozwadowski 2001: 78). Additionally, there are also the individual scenes of a horse and human figure with a nimbus head that were deliberately placed in a specific manner over cracks in the rock where one side was pecked in a style different to the other half on the opposite side of the fis-sure. moreover, this transformation across the boundaries of the cracks also led rozwadowski to support the possibility of the tamgaly petroglyphs reflecting an early shamanistic tradition in Central Asia, which follows on from the discus-sions initiated by Bongard-levin and Grantovskii, as mentioned above.

We need to be, however, circumspect of the use of the term ‘shaman’ as a fixed typological label for solely the identification of strange personages in rock art imagery. this stems from the popular Western stereotype of the shaman which has become a synthetic description of a wide spread of traditions across the world. this idea of a singular, archetypal shaman is problematic and one way to move forward is to consider shamans as individuals who utilize a combina-tion of abilities and qualities which are negotiated and drawn upon in different ways in specific socio-political milieus. thus, i follow recent theorizations which explore the diversity of the negotiation of shamanic roles and abilities from in-dividual to individual and society to society (e.g., humphrey 1994; thomas and humphrey 1994; Blain and Wallis 2000). From this perspective the ‘shaman’ is a useful analytical term which facilitates discussions about complex aspects of socio-religious processes and requires an engagement with the data that consid-


ers the diversity of shamanic expressions – ‘shamanisms’. in consequence, this then leads us to consider the presence of shamanistic practices in the 2nd mil-lennium bce will not be exactly the same as those known from the ethnographic present. the role of the shaman is diverse in time and space, and each Central Asian society would have negotiated its roles in a spectrum of different ways, as we have seen in the case of the tajiks above. there are, however, themes that are poignant in our deliberations, such as healing, performance, mediating with spirits, journeys and visions, which further assist our ongoing discussions below. moreover, the boundaries between shamanistic and other religious practices are permeable as many members of societies carry out their lives in which the con-nections between the two may be entwined and inseparable.

The Bayan Jurek figuresthe Bayan Jurek mountains are situated approximately 25 km east of the his-toric town of Kapal in the taldykorghan region of Almaty province, southeast-ern Kazakhstan. the name derives from the oirat words баиин дзурх, ‘generous heart’, and is rendered as Баянжүрек in Kazakh and Баян Журек or Баянжурек in russian. the mountain range is about 13 km long and runs parallel to the greater Jungarian Alatau mountain range that borders China. the petroglyphs of Bayan Jurek were discovered around 1979–1980 during field surveys con-ducted by the semirech’e expedition of the institute of history, Archaeology and ethnography An Kazssr. in post-soviet times, the rock art complex was record-ed in greater detail by a joint Franco-Kazakh research project during 1994–1996, which identified over 2500 petroglyphs in the western end of the Bayan Jurek mountain range. the images of the two dancing figures were first published in an article by Zainolla samashev in 1998. he has also more recently published two books detailing various interpretations of the different types of petroglyph images found at Bayan Jurek (samashev et al. 2008; samashev 2012).

the first dancing figure (no. 1) is located on the peak of the highest sum-mit (approximately 1800 m above sea level) in the southwestern part of Bay-an Jurek. here on a small sandstone plate is engraved the petroglyph scene of a human figure with a feather headdress and bent legs that is accompanied by three animals (Fig. 1). two of the animals are indistinguishable, while the third is damaged and quite unrecognizable. the second figure (no. 2) is found on an exposed surface of sandstone situated on a ridge much lower down from the summit where the first figure is located, but it is still quite high up from the valley floor (Fig. 2). this figure also has bent legs, but it wears an elaborate hemispherical headdress upon its head. An ibex accompanies it and the tip of its snout overlaps the hemispherical headdress indicating the caprid was prob-ably carved at a later date.

[30]

Fig. 1. Bayan Jurek dancing figure no. 1 with feathered headdress (photograph by K. Lymer, tracing by J. Jetibaev)

Fig. 2. Bayan Jurek dancing figure no. 2 with a hemispherical headdress (photograph and tracing by K. Lymer)


this detailed portrayal of a hemispherical headdress is so far unique in Cen-tral Asian rock art iconography as it features a structure made of lines connect-ing to a semi-circular arc. the closest comparison is found at the famous petro-glyph complex of saimaluu-tash (saimaly-tash) situated high in the Ferghana mountain range of Kyrgyzstan (Fig. 3). here the representations of the hemi-spherical headdresses are not detailed, but depicted in a manner where they are considerably larger in proportion to the bodies of the human figures.

meanwhile, there are several rock art depictions of figures featuring feath-ered headdresses found around Central Asia dating to the Bronze Age (2nd mil-lennium bce) (Fig. 4). the oldest known images, however, come from the impor-tant early Bronze Age tombs at Karakol (Fig. 5) in the Altai republic (Kubarev 1988). Construction works in the village of Karakol uncovered a prehistoric cemetery that contained burials placed within chambered tombs constructed of stone slabs. some tombs have been radiocarbon dated to 2700 bce (samashev 2002: 36). selected tomb surfaces were painted with images of half-human/half-animal hybrids (Fig. 5a) which Vladimir Kubarev considers to be shamans in cos-tumes decorated with animal parts. these are comparable to some known cas-es of shamanic apparel in the ethnographic present (Kubarev 2002: 104–106). other Karakol figures (Fig. 5b–c) were carved into the stone surfaces and had elaborate feathered headdresses terminating with dots that are similar to ones

Fig. 3. A petroglyph scene featuring hemispherical headdresses from Saimaluu-Tash, Kyrgyzstan (after Martynov et al. 1992: Fig. 55)

32 Kenneth Lymer

worn by figures from tamgaly, Kazakhstan (Fig. 4c). the tamgaly petroglyphs, however, are from the later Bronze Age as they are dated through their associa-tion with local Andronovo cemeteries, circa 14th–12th centuries bce (rogozhin-skii 2004: 51–55; 2011: 90).

siberian and mongolian shamans have been ethnographically documented to wear feathered headdresses and many can be found on display in museums around the world. one beautiful example was crowned by eagle feathers and worn by a tofalar female shaman in 1908 (Pentikäinen et al. 1998: 146). her headdress and costume was collected from the irkutsk region of Buryatia, but

Fig. 4. Petroglyph images of feathered headdresses: a) Detail of a scene from Bardakul, East Turkestan (after Samashev 1998: Fig. 3); b) Figures from Saimaluu-Tash, Kyrgyzstan (after Martynov et al. 1992: Figs 50, 51, 52, 59); c) Figures from Tamgaly, Kazakhstan (after Rozwadowski 2003: Fig 81 and Rogozhinskii 2011: Fig 152)


now resides in the museum of Anthropology and ethnography, st Petersburg, russia. Furthermore, the eagle plays a crucial part in numerous siberian sha-manic traditions as it was a spirit helper and teacher (Balzer 1996). Additionally, there are also local legends that tell the tale of the first shaman being conceived by an eagle (eliade 1964: 69–70).

Fig. 5. Rock art images of feathered headdresses from Karakol, Altai Republic (after Kubarev 1998 Figs 27, 43, 54): a) Two figures painted in red ochre upon Plate 1 from Burial 5; b) Figure carved into Plate 3 from Burial 5; c) Detail of two figures in a scene carved into Plate 3 from Burial chamber 2, Kurgan 2

34 Kenneth Lymer

Both Bayan Jurek figures also have bakhroms, fringes, depicted on their legs. ethnographic studies have documented numerous cultural traditions across in-ner Asia which employ leather fringes as part of the shaman’s costume. the amount of bakhroms attached to kaftans and aprons differs from individual to individual and culture to culture. moreover, it is interesting to note that among the tungus the fringes along the arms of a shaman’s ‘duck costume’ represent feathers, while fringes are tied to the antler-crown which makes up the ‘reindeer costume’ (shirokogroff 1935).

the hands of the two Bayan Jurek petroglyph images are depicted as large circular shapes and these could possibly be the representations of toli, metal mirrors used by siberian, Buryat and mongolian shamans. the earliest mirrors known in Central Asia, however, were utilized for toiletry purposes and have been found in the early Bronze Age (early 3rd millennium bce) at archaeologi-cal sites associated with the Bactria-margiana Archaeological Complex (BmAC), such as Gonur-Depe, turkimenstan (Kuzmina 2007: 263). Central Asian mirrors then become a more widely spread artefact-type by the later Bronze Age. mirrors with loop handles appear around 1300 bce and have been found at sites ranging from the southern urals (smolino, urals – Fedorovo Andronovo) to southern Kazakhstan (Kara-Kuduk, Kul’say and Kizylbulak), uzbekistan (muminabad), tajikistan (Dashti-Kozi cemetery – Fedorovo Andronovo) and the Yanbulaq cem-etery (tarim river), east turkestan (ibid. 2007: 263, 280). meanwhile, mirrors with handles are found in the hoards of shamshi, sukuluk and sadovoe in Kyr-gyzstan and in a grave at the Qizilchoqa cemetery, east turkestan which date circa 1350–1000 bce (Kuzmina 2008: 103). on a final note, mirrors are also pre-sent in the later Bronze Age among the Alekseevka and Dandybai complexes of eastern and central Kazakhstan circa 1200–1000 bce (ibid. 2008: 104).

in the ethnographic present, shamanic toli mirrors are round in shape and made of bronze, brass or copper. they come in many sizes and can be decorated on one side, while the other is highly polished. these mirrors are traditionally sewn upon the shaman’s kaftan and apron or may be worn around the neck as an amulet. Toli have various properties which range from protection against harmful spirits to receptacles that collect spirits and elemental powers. sergei shirokogroff (1935) mentions tungus shamans use them to focus the mind as well as being vehicles to achieve trance, while Goldi shamans use mirrors to protect themselves from injurious spirit arrow attacks. meanwhile, Walther heissig (1944: 45–46) comments upon how mirrors were an important medium for mongol shamans and he also documents the case of a female shaman who stated the toli contained the white horse spirit of shamans. mirrors for tuvan shamans can also take on male or female genders, while they importantly as-sist in identifying the spirits that cause disease as well as divining whether the


patient would live or die (Diakonova 1994: 254–55). Additionally, Diakonova also points out that an important helping spirit, which a tuvan shaman must acquire, is the spirit of the mirror, khyzungu eheren.

Sensuous VisionsAs noted above, strange figures found in petroglyph images are commonly per-ceived to be fossilized ‘photographs’ of primitive religion. in order to move away from this problematic perception we need to take into account a more dynamic point of view that considers rock art images as expressions of the understandings of artists and consumers, embedded in place, time and culture (lymer 2004: 16). moreover, this artistry also embodies forms of local knowledge that are deeply embedded in sensual interactions engaged by living persons with the landscape. landscapes, however, are not just worldviews as they are intimate encounters, which are not just about seeing, but experiencing the world with all our senses (Bender 2002: 136). People’s perceptions of spaces and places are entangled in a concerted effort involving all the senses that collectively provide multi-faceted engagements. thus, in recognizing this intricacy of sensual encounters between individuals and landscape, we expand our horizons and further understandings about the complexities of rock art and religion in past societies.

the two Bayan Jurek figures were cut into natural sandstone by skillfully hitting the surface with another rock. these actions are sculptural in nature as living individuals through their bodily movements facilitated the artistic al-teration of the rock face. the artist’s individual creative and cultural knowledge would have also played an important part in representational idiosyncrasy as both Bayan Jurek figures feature different headdresses. overall, these actions upon first glance appear to relate to only the carving of images into stone, but the experiences of the original makers and users would have also undoubtedly involved other sensual engagements that included sight, sound, touch and smell as well as emotional and spiritual interactions.

to begin with, a fresher approach to the rock surface in which the Bayan Ju-rek figures were carved considers the very stone itself as an active agent that interacts with a person in several significant ways. An initial response could po-tentially involve the first glimpse of the eye-catching quality of the scene’s visual appearance, but the images may also be touched with fingertips to confirm their physical presence. the three-dimensional voluminosity of the rock can also be perceived by running one’s fingers over the entire surface of the stone. touch is actually a complex somatic sensory system comprising of several sensations in-cluding vibration, temperature and pain (schuenke et al. 2010: 179). thus, the contours of the petroglyphs can be felt through delicate vibrations to the skin

36 Kenneth Lymer

while brushing across the textured stone surface. the temperature of the rock in the morning may be cool but by mid-day in the summer the surface may become too hot to touch and sensations of pain may also be experienced.

moreover, the change in lighting conditions from dawn to dusk also creates a shifting interplay of light and shadows upon the rock surface (Fig. 6). these sensations may synchronize with a visual focus upon the dark colour of the stone as well as distinguishing the details of various pigmentations derived from the mineral content. Additionally, there are seasonal vegetation growths en-croaching over the rock surfaces and in the blazing sun the area becomes sur-rounded by the smells of plants or pollinating flowers. During rainfall the rock surfaces are covered by moisture which mixes with the pollen and soil and cre-ates a different pungent aroma which may combine with the smell of rain caused by ozone. overall the smell of delicate fragrances can be just as important as the experiences of sight and touch when visiting the Bayan Jurek figures.

these personal experiences then could be further enhanced through public acts of performance in a group setting. the installation of the Bayan Jurek fig-ures along selected rocks on the mountainside may have been an essential part of social and religious processes requiring special actions or ceremonies. to be-

Fig. 6. Bayan Jurek dancing figure no. 2 in evening lighting conditions (photograph by K. Lymer)


gin with, the hammering of rock surfaces in the creation of rock art imagery produces sounds and this rhythmic pecking of the stone could have been con-sidered to be a form of music. the role of sound in religion is a common feature of numerous societies – voices, rattles, stones, bells and drums have all been es-sential elements used by diverse cultures across the world. other sounds were generated through, perhaps, chanting or clapping and these combined with the sounds of striking the stone surface would have filled the air, created special atmospheres and were most likely to be emotionally charged. the sounds and music combined with vigorous performances and the visual impact of the rock art could have amounted to remarkable and affecting experiences for the art-ists and ceremonial participants. moreover, these actions may have enlivened the petroglyphs for, as we know, art objects come to life through performance in numerous cultures. the Kwakwaka’wakw artists of the northwest Coast of Canada, for example, create elaborate wooden masks that transform into the other-than-human-beings, which they depict, during sacred ceremonies full of music and drama (Vastokas 1992: 27–29).

significantly, the Bayan Jurek figures (Figs 1 & 2) are depicted with bent legs and articulated arms making them kinesthetic representations of danc-ing figures in motion (lymer 2006a: 52–53). this takes on a greater relevance when one realizes they were engraved into dark patinated rock surfaces that are highly reflective of light. From my own personal experiences in the field, i have seen the intensity of sunlight on a bright day producing the optical effect of a shimmering white surface where the contours of the petroglyph carvings then become dark silhouettes. this shimmering light effect brings a sense of anima-tion to the rock art and, in particular, would have made the figures appear to move and dance (samashev 1998: 199; lymer 2004). thus, the rock art and its natural stone setting facilitated a staging point for artists and performers that delved into sensations that go beyond normative expectations and entered into the world of art and visions. moreover, the petroglyph scenes could have been where the veil between this world and otherworlds were more permeable and where, perhaps, a shaman or special persons crossed the boundaries into other realms.

enhanced states of awareness (ecstasy, meditation) may have also been achieved with the assistance of chanting or musical instruments and their rhyth-mic vibrations. it is also important to point out that sounds in ceremonial con-texts create auditory experiences which would have had observable physiological effects on the body (reverberations, pulses, heartbeats, breathing), and, thus, further stimulating all the other senses. Deeper levels of awareness, (i.e., trance) may have been achieved by singing, dancing or with the help of the rhythmic clapping of hands.

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two of the figures with feathered headdress from the rock art complex of tamgaly, shown in Figure 4c, actually form a part of a larger petroglyph scene (Fig. 7) that is visionary in nature. the connections of the rock art of Central Asia with visions has been discussed in detail elsewhere (rozwadowski 1999, 2001, 2003; lymer 2004, 2006a, 2009) and do not need to be repeated here. in essence, this scene embodies sensuous experiences accompanied by flashes of light that are graphically represented by dots and radiating lines, which could have been derived from personal ecstatic experiences. the consumption of en-theogenic substances (i.e., soma), however, are not needed as such as the sen-sation of dots of lights could be photoparoxysmal phosphene images generated by seizures induced through sleep deprivation and deep meditation (nicholson 2002). moreover, there is the case of the 9th century BCe Chinese monk, Kwan hiu, who painted Arhats, Buddhist sages, who came to him through oneiric means (laufer 1931: 212–13). After reciting a prayer Kwan hiu actively sought the image of an Arhat in his dreams and then painted its image after he woke up. it is possible to consider that the visions of the Bayan Jurek figures could have been also received by prehistoric artists and shamans after pursuing a period of oneiric incubation. overall, visions and dreams are modalities of awareness with their own unique ways of experiencing the world, and together they importantly provide another means of sensually engaging with the landscape (lymer 2009).

Fig. 7. The famous visionary petroglyph scene from Tamgaly, Kazakhstan (tracing reproduced with the kind permission of A. Rozwadowski)


Encountering MountainsAnother significant aspect about the Bayan Jurek petroglyphs, which compli-ments their oneiric qualities, is that they are located within the landscape upon the upper elevations of a mountain. the petroglyphs are not visible from stand-ing in the plain below as the dancing figures were installed in discrete spots which require strenuous physical exertion by climbing steep precipices in order to encounter them. moreover, as Agnieszka halemba (2006: 70) points out, the perception of the mountain itself changes through the constant movement of a person in space. As one walks towards it, the ridges and peaks appear and dis-appear, and different aspects of the rock faces are presented through constantly changing angles of view. this mutability of perceiving mountains through a hu-man body in motion, in turn, forms an integral part of the religious experiences of the telengits of the Altai as they consider many mountains to be not only sacred places but also living, shifting entities (ibid.).

if one was knowledgeable about the topography of Bayan Jurek, a long jour-ney starting at the base may have involved the purposeful visit to the dancing figure no. 2 with the elaborate hemispherical headdress, before heading to the top to figure no. 1. Along the way there would be encounters with many of the other different types of petroglyph images as one clambers around the nooks and crannies. these petroglyphs would suddenly appear in close proximity as one stumbles and steps about them – once discovered the multiple sensations discussed above may be experienced during the engagement with the image or scene in question as well as the rocky surface it occupies. moving among, around and over decorated rocks also involves encounters with images and scenes of different densities and intensities of impact. the petroglyphs are met as large panels stretching across several coinciding surfaces or as discrete images located in isolated spots. some images can bring a individual to stop, look, listen and even dream, while others can only be glimpsed at different angles by shifting around and constantly changing one’s posture on the uneven surfaces of the mountainside.

the sandstone plate, with the image of the dancing figure no. 1, sits upon the peak of the southwestern end of the Bayan Jurek mountains (Fig. 8). From this vantage point there is a commanding view of the plains below and to the south is the jagged peaks of the Jungarian Alatau range, which is the geo-political boundary between Kazakhstan and China. this location upon a mountain peak undoubtedly demonstrates the power of the place and this potency was further amplified by installing this special rock art scene in this location. the very act of carving this image here was significant as the ancient artist or shaman, per-haps, accessed the power of the mountain to establish connections with the lo-cal spirits, genius loci.

40 Kenneth Lymer

numerous inner Asian peo-ples encounter the landscape as composed of natural features, like mountains and springs, which are living entities. the existence of mountain spirits and masters are acknowledged by the Alta-ians, Khakass, tuvans, Buryats and mongols (humphrey 1995; Kazachinova & van Deusen 2002; halemba 2006). in particular, the exirit-Bulagat Buryats of Buryatia ask for favours of their mountain spirits to secure successful graz-ing, to bring life-giving rain and provide protection from various types of harm (hamayon 1994: 82). For those who purposeful-ly visited the dancing figures of Bayan Jurek, perhaps, they knew these were also special places to communicate with other-than-hu-man agencies in order to ask for interventions in the world, such as healing and protection. moreover, these petroglyphs could have been

sought out by shamanic practitioners of the past to facilitate the acquisition of spiritual powers or seek favours from non-human agencies.

Furthermore, these figures, as well as other scenes in the petroglyphs may have also been the material manifestations of powerful entities that were con-sidered, perhaps, to be alive. ethnographic accounts have repeatedly pointed out that particular artistic works are not only socially active objects, but may also have their own special powers and exist as living entities. Buryat and mongol groups, for example, use the term ongon to designate an ancestor or the mate-rial representation of an other-than-human-being (humphrey 1971: 271). the Buryats and mongols create figurative objects similar to dolls or drawings on flat surfaces that powerful beings and spirits incarnate into after being sum-moned through chants and ritual performance. Buryat drawings of a bull, for example, can become the receptacle of the important deity Buxa-noyon, who is called down from his heavenly abode to inhabit a bovine image and bring good

Fig. 8. View of the Bayan Jurek dancing figure no. 1 facing southwest with the Jungarian Alatau mountains in the background (photograph by K. Lymer)


fortune to Buryat individuals (humphrey 1974). thus, these drawings are not literal representations of bulls but are images of power which are a material re-ality that directly influence daily life. moreover, thinking about ongons also dis-rupts the passivity of the interpretation of rock art as ‘snapshots’ of the past and conceives them as taking a more active role in prehistoric societies.

the Bayan Jurek dancing figures, perhaps, could have also been considered to be spirit masters or powerful other-than-human entities. For example, the Kok yiyk sacred mountain in the Altai republic has a spirit master who appears to the telengit people as a man on a blue horse (halemba 2006: 70). moreover, the Bayan Jurek figures were not only a vision of a spirit master, but the very act of carving the scene into the surface of the rock allowed the artist to access the power of the spirits. Additionally, the contacted entity may have had com-municated divine instructions to the person or imparted future portents of good or ill. therefore, the power of these scenes may relate to its role as a mediator between other-than-human-beings, shamans and people, while at the same time playing a crucial role in the expressive and sensual topography of Bayan Jurek. thinking about spirit masters of mountains also allows us to expand upon the conception of rock art as being entangled in complex relationships involving dif-ferent entities existing within a living landscape.

this intricate web of interrelationships is seen in the case of the exirit-Bu-lagat Buryats who live on the western side of lake Baikal, Buryatia (hamayon 1994: 82–83). A mountain that looks down on the pasturelands of a Buryat clan descent group does not only define the group’s territory but it is also the dwelling place of their ancestors. For descent groups, the mountain constitutes their legitimacy and establishes their land rights over particular areas, but at the same time it also provides a point of contact with their ancestors. the an-cestors, though human, are often combined with the mountain and become one of its many spirits and beings. together with the mountain, the ancestors are asked for favours that bring benefits to pastoral practices and provide spiritual protection to the Buryat group. the spirits take part in the joint lineage ritu-als performed on the side of the mountain and they punish those individuals who break social rules by dispatching disease, especially skin diseases which are considered by the Buryats to be a visible form of public shame. this important ceremony dedicated to the mountain spirits involves invocations, offerings of milk products and sacrifices of domestic animals. Furthermore, it is performed jointly by members belonging to two or more clans and involves the rites being directed by elders and shamans.

overall, this case study from the exirit-Bulagat Buryats demonstrates the permeability of religious phenomena in people’s daily lives and the significant ways in which shamanic practices are entangled within these experiences. it is

42 Kenneth Lymer

also moves away from a constricted view of religion to the recognition that peo-ple’s lives are embedded in complex connections with the world around them. moreover, this allows us to recognize the potential diversity of religious expe-riences ranging from the personal to shamanistic that can be explored in the sensual landscapes of Kazakhstan during the Bronze Age.

Concluding remarksthe petroglyphs of shamanistic figures at the rock art site of Bayan Jurek have come to us to the present day across the geographies of time and space. As op-posed to being strange and irrational pictures, the images are more sensitively approached as active mediums of religious processes and not just the residues of primitive rites. these petroglyphs are a tactile form of visions and dreams that need to be situated within the experiential contexts of past societies that would have given them meaning. the monolithic view of Bronze Age religion in Central Asia, however, takes us away from the sensual realities of the rock art and alternative approaches are needed to facilitate deeper understandings about the intricate tapestry of religious phenomena during the 2nd millennium bce.

the practice of installing petroglyphs, upon first glance, appears only to re-late to carving rock surfaces, but the experiences of the initial creators and con-sumers would have also involved other sensual interactions that were auditory, tactile and olfactory as well as being emotional, oneiric and spiritual. our bod-ies react to light, sound, touch and other stimuli and the impact of these on an individual would have been immense as they move through the rocky spaces of Bayan Jurek to visit the images. rock art can be sensually responded to in many different ways through personal or learned responses based in the individual’s social, cultural and religious modes of understandings. thus, approaching the rock art as such allows us to tease out the dynamic relationships involved be-tween image and viewer. moreover, we are then able to consider the rock art in terms of entanglements with living persons which express the affective connec-tions and continuities between people, art, religion and mountains otherwise treated as disparate typologies in traditional culture-historical approaches.

rock art, in addition to materializing social and religious relationships, gives expression to a particular set of sensual relations. the natural rock was not sim-ply a blank surface in which the petroglyphs were engraved, as the rock itself was a shiny, sensual medium and possessed qualities or powers which were deliber-ately sought out by artists and shamans. Additionally, the rock art scenes also embody encounters between people and other-than-human-beings that exist in dynamic temporal and spatial dimensions. thus, the Bayan Jurek mountains and its petroglyphs straddle the boundaries of personal, social and religious re-alities in the landscape. Furthermore, by the focusing upon this entanglement


of sensual relationships between individuals and their environment it provides a greater scope for the advancement of understanding prehistoric shamanisms.

Consequently, the exploration of sensorial experiences offers fresher perspec-tives about the past, while also importantly moving us away from reductive explanations of rock art and religion. the sensual study of the petroglyphs of Bayan Jurek allows us to challenge the rigid borders of culture-historical ap-proaches in rock art studies and brings to the fore neglected aspects and dy-namics. moreover, we are able to focus upon the prehistoric people themselves, their understandings of mountainsides, interactions with rocky spaces and their notions of what appropriate behaviour and activities within them might be. By attempting to explore the way people may have experienced the landscape, we can move beyond static notions about the Bronze Age during the 2nd millen-nium bce and begin to uncover the richness of religious phenomena in the pre-history of Kazakhstan and Central Asia.

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Inga-Maria Mulk

Depictions in Sami rock art of the Mother Earth figure

Introduction there were shamans among the sami of northern Fennoscandia (i.e. northern sweden, norway and Finland) but i shall argue in this paper that shamanic rit-ual was only one aspect of the context for the production of sami rock art. We should instead interpret the anthropomorphic and zoomorphic figures in the rock art as representations of ideas and practices that were widespread in sami society, and we can see these ideas also portrayed in sami myths and religious beliefs.

the rock engravings and rock paintings of northern Fennoscandia were rela-tively neglected by researchers until recently. many sites of this so-called ‘hunt-ers’ art’ were still unknown thirty years ago – for example, it was not until 1972 that the famous rock art of Alta fjord was first discovered. however, after the 1990s an increasing number of scholars not only documented the rock art of the north but also began seeing it as an expression of the mythology, cosmol-ogy and shamanism of the societies that produced it (Valonen 1984; shumkin 1990; Autio 1991, 2000; ernits 1992; Pokalainen and ernits 1998; Kare 2000; stolyar 2000; siikala 2000; Fandén 2002; lofterud 2002; lahelma 2004; mulk 2004; Bertilsson 2008; helskog 2012). in this context sami culture has been seen as providing key insights.

some new images came to light at the Badjelánnda site discovered in 1990 (mulk 1998, 2004; mulk and Bayliss-smith 2001, 2006, 2007). these images require us to examine sami cosmological and religious ideas, particularly the mother earth concept (Máttaráhkká) which is also represented in the motifs painted on drums and the metaphors found in myths. in the person of Mát-taráhkká the sami had a symbol of mother earth that has close parallels to

48 Inga-Maria Mulk

similar figures found within the religious ideas of indigenous people all over the northern euro-Asiatic region (ränk 1955; simčenko 1978; Gimbutas 1982; Bäckman 1982, 1984; hultkrantz 1996; eidlitz Kuoljok 1999).

Sami religion and worldview in pre-modern timesThe North Eurasian worldview

the prehistoric religion of the sami was a north eurasian hunting religion, and it developed its own form during the post-glacial period when the sami people occupied large tracts of Fennoscandia and northwest russia. in ancient times the sami people had close links to other Finno-ugrian peoples, with a strong influence on language and culture. most of these peoples share a prehistory of hunting, gathering and fishing, especially wild reindeer hunting. in some cases, including the sami, there has been a transition to reindeer herding within the past 1 000 years (mulk 2009). there were contacts with the nordic-Germanic peoples and cultures of southern scandinavia (Zachrisson 1997; Price 2002), but these contacts were somewhat diffuse until the expansion of agriculture and colonisation starting in the 1st millennium AD.

the religion of the sami was an animistic/shamanistic in character. the nat-ural world and all things within it, including people, animals, plants and even stones and water, were considered to be animated. this worldview was com-municated through myths, stories, songs, dances, images and rituals. there were important rituals associated with the yearly cycle, carried out both by lo-cal groups (sijdda) and by individual members of society. sacrifices to ancestors, deities and spirits were an intrinsic part of people’s relationship to other worlds. sacrificial offerings can be seen as an extension to the deities and spirits of the social principle of reciprocity that governed everyday life (mulk 1996).

As with all north eurasian religions, a distinctive feature was the importance of rituals connected to hunting and fishing, ceremonies involving the animals that were hunted, and shamanism (hultkrantz 1965, 1985: 23, 1992; rydving 1993). Killing and death meant discontinuity in the social and cosmic order, but for the hunters it was also a precondition for the creation of new life. shamanic beliefs and practices were an intrinsic part of daily life, but shamanism was not only a religion but also a technique employed by specialists (‘shamans’, or noajd-de in lule sami) to make contact with other worlds through the use of drums and the experience of trance (siikala 1992: 60–62; Price 2002; Bäckman 2005).

up until the 1700s the sami shaman played an important role in society. to go into trance was the shaman’s way to get into contact with the spirit world. Among the methods used to achieve trance were drumming, singing/joiking and dancing (mulk and Bayliss-smith 2006). the sami believed that masculine and

49Depictions in Sami rock art of the Mother Earth figure

feminine life-forces were necessarily inter-connected, so female helpers were needed by the shaman (Bäckman 1982).

siikala (1992) has suggested that shamanic beliefs characterised all northern hunting cultures across eurasia, from siberia to the ob ugrians and the sami of Fennoscandia. she interprets rock art sites in Finland as sacred places where game animals might be encountered, for example at river crossings. such places would be visited by shamans, in order to approach the guardian spirit or keeper of an animal species. shamans used rituals that involved making new images on the rock depicting the soul of that animal, or perhaps using images that were already there (siikala 1992: 62–63).

in siikala’s model shamans are seen as central actors in rock art production, but both the historical evidence and ethnographic parallels (e.g. Khanty, see below) indicate that religious practices were not the exclusive domain of the shamanic elite. it is more likely instead that the knowledge, beliefs and ritual practices of society were widely shared by men, women and even children (mulk and Bayliss-smith 2006, 2007).

Images on Sami drums

the drum was an important tool for sami shamanic practices, and it was used for divination and sorcery as well as for trance. in the sami language an alter-native way of referring to the drum was to call it a boat (itkonen 1946: 121), a clear reference to its perceived role as a means to travel to a supernatural world. some of the drum motifs may also have served as a star map for astrol-ogy when particular constellations came into view in the night sky (lundmark 1982; sommarström 1987). Apart from certain images in rock art, no drums have survived in dateable archaeological contexts. the prehistory of drumming as a sami shamanic practice is therefore uncertain, but it seems likely to share ancient origins with the shamanism of other north eurasian peoples.

the sami were subject to Christian conversion in the 1600s and 1700s, the noajdde were persecuted, and the transition from hunting to herding reindeer or agriculture intensified. most of our knowledge comes from persons closely connected to the Christian conversion of the sami, so that beliefs and practic-es must be reconstructed from sparse sources. Documentary sources from this time provide some details but are all written by men, usually non-sami and al-ways practicing Christians (rydving 1993). most accounts come from the period of religious confrontation with lutheran missionaries, or alternatively they are oral histories collected in modern times. Despite these shortcomings the histori-cal sources provide much information about the sami worldview, sacred places, and the rituals connected to yearly cycles of time and subsistence.

50 Inga-Maria Mulk

the selection of motifs drawn on the drums that have survived, and the position of each motif relative to others, can give us some insights into sami cosmology (manker 1938, 1950). most scholars agree that generally the images on drum skins are divided into sections that represent the heavenly or upper world, the middle world in which we live, and the underworld. Ac-cording to hultkrantz (1996), all lev-els were united through a world-tree or a pillar, the pillar being associated with the northern star. the three different spheres of sami cosmology are popu-lated by deities and other supernatural beings, as well as by humans and ani-mals. People were considered to be an integral part of nature, so the sacred and the profane were closely linked in this worldview. the sacred landscape of humans, animals and spirits that is depicted on drums is gendered, as is the natural world in sami culture. some deities and spirits from the cos-mic world were mainly used by men and others by women.

images that derive from the con-cept of a female creator of the world, the mother earth figure of the Mát-taráhkká complex, are found in several drum motifs. the cosmic power is rep-

resented as the image of the sun in the drum’s centre; as Tjoarvveáhkká, the de-ity with horns, in the upper world; as Máttaráhkká’s three daughters in the eve-ryday (middle) world; and as Jábmeáhkká, deity of the dead, in the underworld (manker 1938, 1950; mulk 1985, 1994a).

this worldview is shown in a quite explicit way on surviving examples of the sami shamanic drum, for example a lule sami drum from the 1600s (Fig. 1). this drum shows the three divisions of the sami cosmos and also has some char-

Fig. 1. Example of the motifs painted on the skin of a shaman’s drum, confiscated by Swedish authorities in the Lule Sami area of northern Sweden, mid-1600s, including the three daughters of Máttaráhkká. Images of these daughters of are thought to be depicted on some Sami drums of the 17th and 18th centuries, although this identification is retrospective and was not revealed to Swedes or Norwegians by contemporary Sami informants (source: Manker 1938: 786)


acteristic drum motifs including sájvvo reindeer (spirit helpers of the noajdde), a sailing boat with mast, and the three daughters of Máttaráhkká.

We can see these drum motifs as one way in which ideas about the cosmos and ideas about gender gained substance, became tangible and could have agen-cy in people’s lives. the same ideas are conveyed in rock art and in the meta-phors used in stories (myths). i shall argue that expressions of the Máttaráhkká complex are found in all three media – rock art, drum motifs and myths – but i suggest that the role of shamans in communicating such ideas should not be exaggerated.

Communicating with other worlds – insights from the Khanty

We can see more clearly how people communicated with ancestors, cosmic dei-ties and spirits if we use a more accessible ethnographic example from elsewhere in the Finno-ugrian world. the religion of the Khanty (ostyak) of western sibe-ria is a well-documented example. there are no records of Khanty rock art, but mother earth concepts are expressed in other media. For example, the Khanty carve female anthropomorphic figures (dolls) cut from live cedar trees growing in sacred groves. When the carver of a set of dolls dies, the old dolls are left at the foot of the cedar tree from which they were cut. in this way, says Peter Jor-dan, ideas about the circulation of souls link the human, animal and spirit world, “for the local spirit is ‘immortal’ and is merely receiving a new ‘body’” (Jordan 2001b: 34–35).

Jordan (2001a) argues that the role of the shaman in all reindeer societies has been exaggerated. he shows that among the Khanty communication with other worlds takes place through ritual practices that are carried out by all mem-bers of society (Fig. 2):

everyone (even children) almost every day, in the observance of taboos and ritual practices in the landscape;

All adults through frequent token sacrifices (pory, Khanty); hunters through their seasonal blood sacrifices; A few shamans in occasional intercessions and shamanic experiences. the Khanty example shows that for the pre-modern sami it would be mis-

leading to place too much emphasis on the shamans, who are few in number and whose activities are occasional and take place inside the dwelling rather than in the wider landscape. We can reconstruct a similar hierarchy of ritual observanc-es for the sami hunting group or sijdda (mulk 1994a; mulk and Bayliss-smith 2006: 90–92, 2007; see Fig. 3). this model suggests that for the sami, as for the Khanty, shamanic contacts were only one part of a wider set of rituals and practices that involved all members of society and were carried out on a regu-

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lar basis. Contacts with other worlds were focused on named deities, especially Máttaráhkká (see below).

i conclude that, for the sami, shamanic practices were intense but occasional, involved few people and took place either within the dwelling at times of crisis or in the context of seasonal rituals and sacrifices. in contrast most ritual prac-tices were routine, frequent, and took place in both dwelling place and the wider landscape, for example at sacrificial sites. rock art was associated with religious ritual, and there seems to be no good reason to attribute it to the activities of

Fig. 2. Jordan’s (2001a: 88) model showing acts of communication that link the Khanty human and spirit domains. The model suggests a restricted role for shamans by comparison with the more frequent and more dispersed ritual acts of other groups in society (Source: Mulk and Bayliss-Smith 2006: 90; 2007: 99)

Fig. 3. Model showing acts of communication in Sami hunting society, indicating the wide range of religious activities that linked members of the sijdda with Máttaráhkká and other priomary deities, and suggesting that sacrificial offerings and ritual observances were widely shared as well as widely dispewrsed in the landscape (Mulk and Bayliss-Smith 2006: 91; 2007: 99)


shamans in particular. shamans were also hunters, fishermen and members of the sijdda, and as such they also participated in the religious practices of eve-ryday life.

Mother Earth within the Proto-Uralic and Sami worldviews

the russian scholar napolskikh (1992) has analysed the various cosmic images and metaphors shared among the various Finno-ugrian groups. From this he has reconstructed what he calls ‘the Proto-uralic World View’ which consists of three levels (Fig. 4):

upper world (south, old woman/earth mother, the sun, swans) middle world (where we live) underworld (river mouths, north, waterfowl like loons) this model with modification can be applied to the sami for the period before

reindeer herding, i.e. before about 1600 (Fig. 5): upper World – south, warm, life, the colour white, the sun, the earth mother

deity Máttaráhkká;

Fig. 4. The reconstructed ‘Proto-Uralic World View’ of Napolskikh (1992), showing the various cosmic images and metaphors that are shared among the various Finno-Ugrian groups

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Fig. 5. The ancient Sami worldview as proposed by Mulk and Bayliss-Smith (2006: 96; 2007: 108), but redrawn to show mythical reindeer as inhabitants of the Upper World not the Underworld (Kerstin Eidlitz Kuoljok, pers. comm.). Unlike in the Proto-Uralic worldview, in Sami cosmology it was the River of Blood that separated the Middle World from the Underworld. The female deity Máttaráhkká lived in the Upper World, a domain accessible via holy mountains and acknowledged by the Sami in everyday rituals and taboos

human (middle) World – humans, animals, holy mountains and springs, sac-rifices, Máttaráhkká’s three daughters, the colour red;

underworld – north, cold, death, the colour black, otters, loons and seals. the sun belongs to the upper world and is another aspect of the earth moth-

er figure. in the sami worldview the sun (Biejvve) is feminine and, as mother Áhkka, her role is the creation of life. For example nicolaus lundius in the 1670s


recorded that for the sami the sun is “mother of all living creatures” (lundius 1905; Westman 1997). Almost all drums have an image of the sun placed in a centre among the heavenly gods and goddesses, of whom Máttaráhkká is the most important.

Máttaráhkká belongs to all spheres but was primarily associated with aspects of the upper world – the south, warmth, the source of life. As the primordial, original or first mother, Máttaráhkká was a deity with multiple qualities (Fell-man 1906; ränk 1949, 1955; Bäckman 1982). together Máttaráhkká and Biejvve were seen as the cosmic force that created life and ended it. these two deities represented the forefathers and foremothers of the sami people, as well as sym-bolizing their belief in reincarnation.

some of Máttaráhkká’s different aspects were represented in the earthly sphere by her three daughters Sáráhkká, Juoksáhkká and Uksáhkká, who are de-picted on sami drums usually standing together in a line (see Fig. 1). Juoksáh-kká’s symbol is a bow while Sáráhkká and Uksáhkká hold staffs with cleft sticks. Máttaráhkká might also be found in the underworld as Jábmeáhkká, the god-dess of death. together these deities symbolised the cosmic force that created life and ended it.

there is some historical evidence for the sacrifices to Máttaráhkká. these were made at a special altar, which consisted of three smooth stones of differ-ent sizes placed on level ground. Appropriate offerings were either a female wild reindeer, or a male goat, or a male sheep (Fellman1906: 121).

oral histories from tanajoki in sombio in the north of Finland included the words of a song that was sung to Máttaráhkká by women while they were kneel-ing (myrhaug 1997: 86). the song reveals many of the different qualities of Máttaráhkká:

(in sámi, 1906 text) Mon läm maderest Ja madem mon bådæm Madarakkost mon läm ällam Ja madeakko kuulvi mon bådam

From mother I amand to mother I comeBy Máttaráhkká I have livedand to the realms of Máttaráhkká I go

i believe Máttaráhkká is the primordial woman who, in a different guise, is represented as the mother of Mjandasj and possibly the mother of the sun’s son in sami myths (see below). later in this paper i also discuss how she might have

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been depicted, but first we should note her continuing presence in the sami landscape in the form of place names.

Place names in a sacred landscape

there are various sources of evidence that we can use to reveal how the cos-mic world of the sami was imagined and portrayed. As well as historical sourc-es and sami myths, these sources include drum motifs, rock art, and certain items of material culture such as sacrificial stones and wooden idols, pendants, amulets and dress. Place names can also provide us with information about the sacred character of the sami cultural landscape, although not all names still re-membered are documented on modern topographic maps.

most place names are descriptions of the natural character of a place, but there are some that refer to the ancestors and others that clearly convey the spiritual animation of the sami landscape. names which carry the prefix or suf-fix basse, sájvva or siejdde (sejte) indicate places that were sacred in some way. other words with similar connotations are áhkká, ája, ájles, álde, átjek, ganij, hállde, sjiella, vidjá, värro and tseegkuve (manker 1957: 13f; Bäckman 1975; mulk 1994a: 170; Korhonen 2005).

the borders between different worlds were seen as special places, especially the boundary line where earth and water meet or where the surface world con-nects to the underworld. Places perceived as gateways to the underworld were holes in the ground, smooth rock surfaces, cracks, caves and overhangs, roar-ing rapids and springs that emerge from underground. in this landscape many features were gendered, with female aspects attributed to the sun, moon, earth, mountains and water while the wind and thunder had male connotations.

Places connected to mother earth have names that include Áhkká, meaning old woman or grandmother. those place names that include Átjek are connected to thunder (mulk 1994a). Sájvva is another important place name, but its mean-ing is not the same across the whole sami region (Bäckman 1975). it may origi-nally be derived from a Germanic word for lake. in the south sami area sájvva is very much associated with mountains and places of the shamans, but further north, as in the lule sami area, it signifies both the domains of the ancestors and holy places, also known as basse. it was particularly lakes and mountains that were given these names (manker 1957).

For the lule sami a small lake that had no inlet or outlet was also called a sájvva. the bottoms of such lakes were thought to be double openings, giving access to and from the other world. in oral traditions small bubbling springs, ája, are also regarded as points that provide this special access. it seems very likely that water seeping out of the cliff face at a special place like the Badjelánnda site would have been perceived as originating in the underworld.


sami beliefs about the soul were linked to a concept of worlds that were populated by ancestors and deities with particular names and special roles, and specific connections to sacred places in the landscape. however, the object of worship or sacrifice at such places was not the particular stones or rock forma-tions, cliffs, springs, lakes, animals, the wind or thunder. these elements of na-ture were thought of as manifestations of particular gods or spirits or souls, and hence they were ‘liminal’ places where access could be gained to the supernatural world (mulk 1994b; mulk and Bayliss-smith 2007).

nature’s powers were not considered to be evil, but the natural world could be dangerous if one did not maintain a good relationship with its various manifes-tations (schanche 1994: 122). this relationship was maintained through a set of sacrificial practices and rules of good behaviour in relation to the natural world. it was the role of stories and myths to reinforce these rules, and to pass them on through oral tradition.

Ways of portraying the mother earth complex Myths and the transmission of knowledge

in societies where knowledge is not mediated through science, is not transmit-ted by an educated elite, and is not reinforced with the authority of texts, then beliefs about reality will be communicated in other ways. in non-literate socie-ties stories, songs, pictures and performances are the usual ways in which beliefs are coded, so that meanings can be more easily communicated to others. these practices can be classified into things spoken or sung (myths), things seen (im-ages), and things done (rituals), but in practice the three activities are virtually inseparable. it is through the combined media of myths, images and rituals that the transcendent aspects of reality can be given a symbolic (rather than a literal) form of expression (Bell 1997: 4; rappaport 1999: 54–58).

A symbolic form of expression makes abstract ideas – ideas that are not em-pirically verifiable – much more convincing, as well as more memorable, even enjoyable, for the participants in rituals or for an audience. this ‘audience’ might be the young who are being initiated by older people, or it might be those per-sons less able to ‘see’ into other worlds, who are being informed by another person who is more competent, a so-called wise-man/woman, medicine-man/woman or shaman.

in this way myths can play an important role in the transmission of knowl-edge. A myth conveys a coded message by offering to listeners an entertaining story, a poetic language, and concepts that are expressed through a series of linked metaphors. these devices enable story-telling to give meaning to people's lives, by explaining what is happening to them now in the context of what hap-

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pened in ancient times. myths often focus on the creation of life through the in-tervention of cosmic forces. such beliefs not only explain the origins of the pres-ent, they also offer a promise of life-creation in the future. in this way the myth constitutes a mirror that tells people who they are, how they should behave, and how the future can be safeguarded (Bell 1997: 5ff; rappaport 1999: 164).

Although myths can help to explain the origins and meanings of birth, life and death, it is in ritual performance that such beliefs are reinforced in power-ful and persuasive ways. ritualised acts help to validate ideas about the mythi-cal past, about divine reality, and about earthly events in the present and future (malinowski 1954: 100; rappaport 1999: 23ff, 134–5). such acts include songs, dances and prayers.

Example: Mjandasj in Kola peninsula

A good example is provided by the stories of Mjandasj (english, Myandash) that derive from the eastern part of the Kola peninsula and were first recorded in 1873. several further versions were recorded by the soviet ethnographer Char-noluski in the 1920s. Charnoluski believed that the myths of Áhkká and the mythical hero Mjandasj could be remnants of an ancient sami epic that had been jointly recited or sung at clan gatherings (Charnoluski 1966: 308, cited by ernits 1999: 40; translated by eidlitz Kuoljok 1993: 17–33).

Certain parts of this Mjandasj ritual were still being enacted in the 1920s and 1930s, and two instances are discussed by Charnoluski. one is from Akkajaur lake where Charnoluski found evidence of ritual activity – a pile of stones of differ-ent sizes, and around them reindeer antlers, some decorated with red cloth and pearls. ‘Akka’ in this place-name means either grandmother or refers to the god-dess Áhkká. using information received from local sami, Charnoluski concluded that the objects that he found derived from the Mjandasj cult which was celebrat-ed in autumn with a special feast accompanied by sacrificial offerings to Mjandasj that included antlers, red wool and red cloth (eidlitz Kuoljok 1993: 11–13).

the other account comes from lake sejdozero, a synonym for ‘sejte-javre’, lake of sacred idols. Along the lakeside a russian botanist, a colleague of Char-noluski, secretly observed in 1935 a ritual by sami men and women, who were all naked. some of the men had reindeer antlers on their heads and were fight-ing each other. Charnoluski interpreted this event as a survival of part of the ancient Mjandasj cult. ten years earlier a russsian journalist visiting the same area was told that the sami were celebrating a special feast and sacrifice. he was also told by an old sami that the young men used to meet in the past at a special island, where they performed a ceremony naked and wearing reindeer horns. the sami tried to keep all these practices secret from the russians (ei-dlitz Kuoljok 1993: 11–13).


in these various ways the Mjandasj myth was confirmed for the Kola sami in ritual performance, with an effect on participants and onlookers that was am-plified by the use of various signifiers (reindeer horns, dancing naked, red wool and cloth) all indicating or symbolizing deeper meanings about the creation of life and its perpetuation.

The role of images

images and idols often play an important role in religious rituals. Alongside mes-sages that are recited, sung or acted out in various ways, there is a role in reli-gious liturgy for purely visual messages which can reinforce the meaning of the acts and utterances in powerful ways. special clothing, particular hair-styles and body decoration are often important signifiers (tambiah 1979; lewis-Williams 1981). siikala (1992) suggests that rock art is playing a similar role in sami sha-manic ritual. All these scholars agree that it is the symbolic associations they invoke which make images an effective way to communicate abstract ideas.

in the case of the Badjelánnda rock engravings that we date to c. AD 800–1350, perhaps the sami could recognise in a familiar object (e.g. a boat) a meta-phor that represented an intangible aspect of the divine world (e.g. a journey of the free-soul). in this way people could use the image to enable them to approach the more transcendent aspects of reality. Because the image has been scratched on to the rock surface it becomes an enduring mark on the cultural landscape. its presence strengthens memories and reinforces the cosmic ideas that myths express and rituals legitimate. At the same time rock art motifs are themselves powerful visual metaphors, giving expression to ideas that could never be con-veyed so effectively by the spoken word alone. We can therefore expect the prin-cipal motifs of sami rock art to be rich in cultural meanings, with links both to myth and to ritual.

At the Badjelánnda site there are several scratched images of animals and humans. mulk and Bayliss-smith (2006: 57–61) argued that these had mean-ings connected to mother earth (Máttaráhkká) and/or her mythical offspring Mjandasj (Fig. 6).this argument depended partly on evidence for quarrying of asbestos and soapstone at the site, both providing a context for rituals in which the images played some role. in addition, the way these anthropomorphs were depicted was interpreted as consistent with mother earth depictions (mulk and Bayliss-smith 2006: 57–61).

only rarely, as in the case of the Kola sami, can we examine the connections between myth, ritual and image using ethnographic materials. the ethnographic record is usually too sparse, and iconography can also be sparsely documented. in the sami case, with a few exceptions like the Badjelánnda site, almost the only images to have survived from pre- modern times are the figures on shamanic

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drums, but myths can offer some insights into this cosmic world. the mythical world of different Finno-ugrian peoples contains many shared elements with strong continuities in time and space, so it is valid to extrapolate insights from one sami group to others.

here we focus on two types of sami myth, those about the sun’s son (Biejv-vebardni) and those about Mjandasj. Both involve the earth mother deity, but in both cases animals or animal spirits play important parts so the place of animals in the sami worldview requires careful consideration.

Fig. 6. Anthropomorphic figure from the Badjelánnda site in northern Sweden, interpreted as a depiction of the Sami Máttaráhkká deity or Mother Earth (source: Mulk and Bayliss-Smith 2001, 2006: 10)


Animals and humans in the Sami worldview

the sami once had a rich tradition of oral poetry and prose, including origin myths that can tell us much about their worldview. Fragments of this mate-rial survived when written down and published by folklorists and others in the nineteenth century. the myths show us that the spirit world was always pre-sent in the human world. no sharp distinctions were drawn between the living and the dead, between the visible and the invisible, or between people, animals and plants.

mankind was not seen as superior to the animal world, while the animals had their own lives, afterlives and souls. People and animals were transmutable, as reflected in stories where animals turn into humans, or where men, women or children turn back into animals (edsman 1965). the Kola sámi, for example, recount very few stories that only have animal characters. more often animals work alongside humans, and there are many myths that include humans trans-forming into bears, wolves or wild reindeer (Kharuzin 1890, cited by sergejeva 2000: 164–5).

Acknowledging these realities meant that hunting and killing animals was spiritually meaningful and, necessarily, these activities were surrounded by rit-ual. As hultkrantz (1965: 303) suggested, for the sami “the boundary line be-tween the concrete animal and the spirit animal is, indeed, very floating”. All living creatures were included in this spirit world, including birds, reptiles and fish as well as mammals such as reindeer, otters, elks and bears. in sami belief the bear had special status as a liminal creature, one able to cross the boundary between the human world and the supernatural world (Fjellström 1981; Bäck-man 1981; helskog 2012). the hunter’s attitude to the animal that he kills was always characterised by a respect for a being of equal value, and for one who, like a human, carries a soul.

Elk cows and reindeer cows

the autumn sacrifices recorded in historical times among sami reindeer herd-ers have usually been interpreted as a survival of the ritual practices of the ear-lier hunting society. sacrifice was linked to origin beliefs in which humans and animals were conjoined, as for example in the Mjandasj myth (see below). it is possible that many such beliefs had an original focus on the female elk (moose), and that these ideas were transposed to the reindeer.

rock carvings and paintings depicting elks are found all across the taiga re-gions of eurasia, from trondelag in norway in the west to Amur in siberia. in Fennoscandia elks remained the central icon of rock art in both coastal and interior regions right up to the end of the main period of rock art, about 500

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BCe (hultkrantz 1965; ramqvist 1992; Fandén 2002; Broadbent 2010: 31). if an artist intended to depict an elk bull this would be easily done by showing its palmate antlers, but the vast majority of elks in rock art have no antlers and appear to be elk cows. elk heads without antlers are also depicted in elk-prowed boats and elk-headed staffs. Bertilsson (2008: 24) interprets the Fennoscandian evidence as suggesting “the existence of an elk God or spirit”, but in fact a fe-male deity seems more likely.

researchers like okladnikov (1981) and Jacobson (1993) have described myths from siberia in which the elk cow is the origin of creation. it may be that the same creation myths involving a female deer were once widespread among the sami of Fennoscandia, Kola and Karelia, but unlike in siberia they have only survived in fragmentary form. Perhaps the earth mother of the sami was once an elk cow or reindeer cow, and perhaps her offspring became the sami ances-tors. We can only speculate from traces of such beliefs, for example references to mythical elks in the Kalevala songs (Kuusi and honko 1963: 42–45).

Zachrisson (2009:136) points out that elk and reindeer are regarded in much the same way by the sami, and similar stories are told about them in oral tradi-tions. in the south sami language (sas) sarve means elk and sarva means reindeer bull. the same word (aevsie) is used to denote antlers attached to the cranium whether from elk or reindeer, and aevsie have been found on sami graves dating from AD 1–600 and on sacrificial sites (Zachrisson 2009: 136). these two animals seem to have been used almost interchangeably in sami belief and practice. it was through myths and ceremonies that diverse humans and animals, different reali-ties and different worlds, could be brought together and reconciled.

Mother earth in Sami myth The Sun Son and Sun’s Daughter

the central sami epic-poem entitled The Son of the Sun’s courting in the Land of the Giants was first written down by Anders Fjellner in Jukkasjärvi and Ka-resuando during the period 1821–1841. Fjellner probably combined into one epic-poem the various versions that he had transcribed (lundmark 1979). it is a complex narrative and one in which “alliteration and metaphorical paraphras-ing are widespread” (Gaski 2003: 88). in the story, after the sun’s son has mar-ried the giant’s daughter in the land of Giants, the couple return to the sami homeland. their sons, the Gállá-bártnit (north sami) or hunting sons, are the mythic people from whom the sami trace their descent.

the sami also believed that they had received the wild reindeer as a gift from the sun, Biejjve, or from the sun’s daughter, Biejvveniejdda. in the epic-poem cy-cle entitled Biejvveniejdda there were, Fjellner claimed, more than one hundred


myths about the sun’s daughter, but only some of these now survive (lundmark 1979; Gaski 2003: 80). As well as featuring in their myths, the sun’s daughter was honoured in the lule and south sami areas by sacrifices in time of crisis, and by annual rituals carried out at midsummer and at midwinter (lundmark 1985). these practices were recorded among the reindeer pastoralists in the early eighteenth century, for example by sigvard Kildal in 1730, who noted that a white goat was sacrificed to Beive Neid [the sun maiden] to ensure the good health of the reindeer (Kildal, translated by Westman 1997: 37). the occasion also involved the making of a sun- ring out of birch twigs and the eating of a spe-cial ‘sun porridge’ (lundmark 1985).

the powerful agency of female deities or spirits is also suggested by two im-portant themes in the epic-poem about the sun’s son (Gaski 2003). it is the gi-ant’s daughter who is the active partner in enabling the sun’s son to return safe-ly from the land of Giants to the sami homeland. Although it is he who initiates the voyage, it is she who chooses him for marriage and makes possible (with the help of the supernatural) his return journey. however, crossing this liminal space would not be possible without the assistance of three female deities. it is they who provide the giant’s daughter with magic spells by which nature can be controlled – the three knots that are untied one by one, to raise the wind. the story also suggests that gold, silver and precious stones can be brought home from the mountains, but only with the assistance of the female deities.

there are some parallels with the Mjandasj myth (see below) where, as in the story of the sun’s son, crossing water was the liminal moment that pro-vides a point of access to other worlds. the red colour of alder bark, symbol-ising blood, is mentioned in both myths as providing a key to control of the elements. to assist her passage across the sea with the sun’s son, the giant’s daughter needed stronger winds, so “then she loosens one more knot/ on the alder-coloured wash cloth” (Gaski 2003: 100). through such metaphors the au-dience is reminded of man’s continuing need, in this everyday world, for female and supernatural help to overcome the perils of liminality.

Mjandasj and the River of Blood

enn ernits (1999, 2000) has provided an overview of 29 recorded versions of the Mjandasj myth documented for the Kola sami. in 22 versions the land of Mjan-dasj is regarded as the land of the sami ancestors, but it is a primordial world without the divisions shown on the drums between heaven, earth and under-world. there are no shamans either in the world of the Mjandasj myth. instead we have two parallel worlds, Mjandasj's world and the human world.

it is the river of Blood, or Mjandasj’s river, that separates the two worlds. its water is blood, its waves consist of lungs and its stones are livers. For those

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who live in the Mjandasj-world it is easy to get across the river. For those who live in the humans' world it is difficult to cross, but even humans can manage it. either they can wade across with great effort, or, through wisdom, cunning and the correct ritual, they can influence the flow of the river.

these two worlds provide the context for the Mjandasj myth, which i summa-rise here from eidlitz Kuoljok (1993:8f). the Mjandasj-reindeer came from the Mjandasj-world. he was a white reindeer with golden antlers. Mjandasj wanted to marry a human from the human world, and his mother helped him. she her-self, in some versions of the story, was a wise old woman who had taken the shape of a reindeer cow and had dallied with antlered animals, becoming preg-nant. her son Mjandasj grew up not feeding on grass and lichen, but instead hunting for his food.

to find a wife for her son to marry, Mjandasj's mother sent for the oldest of three sisters from the world of humans. however, the oldest sister failed to cross the river of blood. so too did the middle sister. the younger sister fared better. she got across the river by chewing the bark of the sacred alder tree and spitting its red juice into the river, and by chanting a song. Mjandasj and the youngest sister married, had children and lived happily, but always she had to remember a promise she had made to Mjandasj. she had to make sure the reindeer-skins in the tent were not contaminated by human urine. if the skins did become wet they should not be hung out to dry or put back inside.

the wife tried to be careful, but one day it happened that a reindeer-skin be-came contaminated, and the Mjandasj-reindeer/husband was turned back into an animal and thereafter could not resume his human form again. the woman remarried an ordinary human, but they found it difficult to hunt enough ani-mals to survive. the Mjandasj-reindeer felt sorry for his former wife, and prom-ised to allow her new husband to shoot and kill him, so that they would be able to support themselves in the future.

The creator of the Sami world

Can we match the creation stories that come from these two sources? one might speculate that Mjandasj of the Kola sami has been transmuted by the lule and south sami into the sun’s son (or perhaps vice-versa). the sun’s son crosses the sea instead of a river, and uses a sailing boat instead of wading across – but he has the same need for female and supernatural help to overcome the perils of liminality.

if the Mjandasj myth was widespread in the sami world in pre-modern times, perhaps in another guise as the sun’s son, and if the myth had the primordi-al significance that some scholars have claimed, then the mother of Mjandasj/sun’s son becomes a key figure. As an earth mother symbol, she would appear


to occupy an identical position to Máttaráhkká in the pantheon of sami deities recorded in northern scandinavia in early modern times. there is even a linguis-tic connection, the name ‘mjandasj’ being a diminutive form of ‘máttaráhkká’ (olavi Korhonen, pers. comm.).

The iconography of Mjandasj and Máttaráhkká

there are several important motifs in the Mjandasj myth that are easily visual-ised and might have lent themselves to depiction. scholars have identified some of these elements as present in certain rock art motifs (lahelma 2005). For ex-ample, one of the sisters in the story tried to cross the river by swimming like an otter. this motif, which matches the mythic status of otters elsewhere in the Finno-ugrian tradition, could be represented in a huge petroglyph of an otter at Besov nos on lake onega (ernits 1999: 41).

eidlitz Kuoljok (1993: 7, 1999) suggested the same link between myth and image in her interpretations of certain figures from Amtmannsnes ii near Alta fjord, north norway, where helskog (1987, 1988) has documented a large num-ber of figures of humans and animals that can be dated to the period 2000/1800–900 BCe (helskog 2000: 9). Alongside numerous reindeer Amtmannsnes ii has several stylised anthropomorphs, each shown as different in size and appearance as if representing a particular god or goddess. some seem to be pregnant. one is a dancing figure with what seems to be a reindeer-antler on its head. long zigzag lines, possibly rivers, connect different figures across the rock. helskog (1988) and Autio (1991) both consider it likely that the panel shows mythologi-cal events depicted in connection with religious rituals, rather than ordinary human beings or historical events. eidlitz Kuoljok (1993:7) suggests that the biggest figure on the left side of the composition is a depiction of the mother of Mjandasj giving birth to a reindeer calf, alongside the river of Blood (Fig. 7).

Máttaráhkká provides fewer opportunities for depiction but her eyes are po-tentially a distinctive feature (ernits 1992). According to 1830s folklore in north Finland (Fellman 1906:120), Máttaráhkká could see in the dark, retrieve lost objects, help someone who was lost in the forest, and restore sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf. sacrifices to her were made at a special altar, which consisted of three smooth stones of different sizes.

ernits (1992) suggests we can identify Máttaráhkká among the rock engrav-ings at Besov nos on lake onega. she is depicted there as a very large (2.46 m high) anthropomorphic figure with legs that straddle a natural crack in the rock, perhaps in the position of childbirth. her right eye appears to be blind, but the left one, being connected to the underworld, can see (ernits 1992: 119–121). similarly there are anthropomorphic figures made of bone from Gressbakken, Varanger fjord, in Finnmark, which have prominent eyes (olsen 1994: 89).

66 Inga-Maria Mulk

At Badjelánnda some of the anthropomorphs are relatively large (up to 0.3 m), and all are depicted, without exception, as having eyes. they stare out of the rock, looking southwards. these figures can be seen as representations of the same earth mother figure (mother of Mjandasj, or Máttaráhkká), a cos-mic power which embodied the earth and its ma-terial production, and whose help was therefore ac-knowledged in a range of contexts – for example, hunting reindeer, taking soapstone from the earth, or consigning the dead to the underworld. All three activities took place at and around the Badjelánnda site (mulk and Bayliss-smith 2001, 2006, 2007).

Conclusion sami society was shamanistic, with acts of commu-nication taking place not just in the dwelling and in the context of shamanic rituals but also shared by al-most everyone. such acts took place at various times and places, ranging from everyday observances and taboos to occasional or seasonal sacrifices at special

sites. Máttaráhkká was foremost among the sami deities and spirits whose ex-istence was acknowledged through these ritual acts.

i have argued that representations that derive from the Máttaráhkká complex are found in various sami media, including rock art, place names, drum motifs and myths. As a cosmic power, as a mother and as the creator of the world she can be portrayed either as elk cow or reindeer cow, and in rock art these are often depicted together with calves. she is also the cosmic power that is represented on sami drums in different locations – as the image of the sun in the drum’s centre, as Tjoarvveáhkká, the deity with horns, in the upper world, as her three daughters in the everyday (middle) world, and as Jábmeáhkká the deity of the dead, in the underworld.

Following eidlitz Kuoljok’s (1993) suggestion for Alta, we can see the same earth mother figure at various rock art sites as a deity or, in mythical form, as the mother of Mjandasj (mulk and Bayliss-smith 2001, 2006, 2007). she also features as a source of help in stories about the sun’s son who resembles Mjan-dasj in important ways, the sun (Biejvve) being for the sami “the mother of all living creatures” (lundius 1905; Westman 1997).

Fig. 7. Female anthropomorph at Amtmannsnes II near Alta fjord, north Norway. Eidlitz Kuoljok (1993) suggests that it represents the mother of Mjandasj giving birth to a reindeer calf alongside the River of Blood, as described in the Mjandasj myth


the iconography of these various anthropomorphic figures shows some re-semblances. there are similarities between the drum figures portraying the daughters of Máttaráhkká and the human figures at sites like Amtmannsnes ii (helskog 1999, eidlitz Kuoljok 1999), Besov nos at lake onega (stolyar 2001), and Badjelánnda (mulk 1998; mulk and Bayliss-smith 2006). All have large fem-inine bodies, standing posture, round heads, prominent staring eyes and out-stretched arms.

their context is also evidence for their mother earth identity. All the rock art figures that have been identified as representations of the Máttaráhkká complex are from sites notable for their anomalous topography, suggesting their liminal status as gateways providing access to the underworld. i suggest that ritual acts were particularly important in such places. Although direct evidence from the sami is lacking, many scholars now believe that the production of rock art of-ten took place in the context of religious ritual. Alta is accepted as the centre for hunting ceremonial and shamanic ritual, with the rock art playing a part in commemorating or reinforcing that function (helskog 1999). lake onega was also a ritual centre (stolyar 2001). in the Badjelánnda case it can be argued that whether its prime importance was for hunting, burials or quarrying, Badjelánn-da was distinctive location, a sacred site and the focal point of the mountain plateau region (mulk 1998; mulk and Bayliss-smith 2006).

it seems is likely that an earth mother figure would be at the centre of ritu-als that were carried out at these sites, rituals that were confirmed by the im-ages on the rock. For the sami visiting these sites the combination of signifiers, topographic, ritualistic and iconographic, would have reinforced cosmic mean-ings and reaffirmed the group's cultural identity.

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http://www.folklore.ee/folklore/vol18/



Zaur Hasanov

Argimpasa – Scythian goddess, patroness of shamans: a comparison of historical, archaeological, linguistic and ethnographic data

Cimmerians and scythians lived in the northern Black sea area in modern ukraine and Western russia and then migrated to the middle east through the south Caucasus region. they are considered to be eastern european people by the 8th and 7th centuries BCe, but from the works of Greek authors and archaeo-logical research we know that both of these peoples take their origin from the east (herodotus 1921: iV, 11; terenozhkin 1976). Based on this we can come to the conclusion that the religious beliefs of the Cimmerians and scythians should be closely connected to those of the east. therefore the source for the reconstruction of the Cimmerian and scythian religious beliefs can be the eth-nographic materials of the peoples of this region.

the earliest known written source describing the scythian pantheon of gods is the work of herodotus, who describes eight gods of the royal scythians (the ruling tribe of the scythian empire) and compares them to their Greek mytho-logical analogs.

According to herodotus the scythians worshiped only the following gods: firstly hestia, whom scythians called tabiti. she was considered to be the queen of the scythians. then Zeus and Gaia – scythians call them Papaios and Api (Api was considered to be the spouse of Papaios). then Apollo – scythian Goi-tosyr and the heavenly Aphrodithe – scythian Argimpasa. the next two gods are herakles and Ares (herodotus does not mention their scythian names). At the end herodotus mentions that these seven gods are worshiped by all scyth-ian tribes, but royal scythians also also make sacrificial offerings to Poseidon,

74 Zaur Hasanov

whom they call tagimasadas (1921: iV, 59, 67, 127). Altogether the royal scyth-ians worshiped eight deities – five men and three women.1 one of these deities, Argimpasa, is mentioned by herodotus on several occasions. once in the context of her identification with the Greek Aphrodite-urania (heavenly). the second time in the context of the story of the scythian Enareis (effeminate priests), who got their ‘female disease’ from Aphrodite. And finally herodotus tells us that the art of divination was given to scythian Enareis by Aphrodite (Argim-pasa) (1921: iV, 59, 67).

it is important to point out that the research of the mythological images, of the above mentioned eight Greek deities, shows that they are polysemous. Accordingly we come to the conclusion that the mythological images and the names of their scythian analogies should also be polysemous. this idea lays down the methodological foundation of this research. For more detailed infor-mation on the methodology developed for the research of the royal scythian mythological terms see: (hasanov 2002: 37–47).

in order to find out the functions of Argimpasa in the scythian pantheon etymological analyses of her name should be performed. then it should be com-pared with the functions and qualities of the Greek Aphrodite. We should also try to answer a question: in the cultures of which people are the identical god-desses observed?

Goddesses of Huns and Komans Goddesses identical to the scythian Argimpasa-Aphrodite are mentioned among the deities of the huns and Komans. moses of Kalankat mentions Aphrodite among the gods (along with tengri) worshiped by huns in the Caucasus. he calls her priests ‘sorcerers, magicians and fortune tellers of Aphrodite’. in this fragment he gives an account of struggle of the Christian bishop with the pagan huns. At the end of the fragment it is mentioned that the bishop was trying to convince the huns to stop their sorcery practices and to burn their ‘destructive dice of witchcraft’ (Kalankatuatsi 1984: ii, 41). here the source is talking about animal bones (dice) used for fortune-telling. thus it becomes clear that the hu-nic shamans, worshiping Aphrodite, practiced fortune-telling using bones.

According to Giovanni da Pian del Carpine (who was the Christian ambas-sador to the court of mongols) Komans and mongols are “giving themselves up to fortune-telling”, “sorcery” and “magic”. the Komans name the deity, who an-swer their queries – Kam. Giovanni da Pian del Carpine adds that the Komans

1 in my previous research i studied the royal scythian pantheon as a whole (hasanov 2002: 303–358). in this paper (as can be concluded from its title) i will focus attention on the scythian goddess Argimpasa.

75Argimpasa – Scythian goddess, patroness of shamans: a comparison of historical...

are astonishingly afraid of this deity and honor it. he also points out that the mongols call this deity itoga (1987: 3, iii). in the comments to this work the editor points out (with reference to Dorji Banzarov) that Giovanni da Pian del Carpine made a mistake and mixed the mongolian word udagan, idogan desig-nating the shamaness with the name of the mongolian goddess. the editor also adds that the source mixed the turkic word qam designating shaman with the name of the Koman deity (1987: 200, note 29). But the name of the scythian goddess Ar-gim-pasa, which contains the root gim/gam, (identical to the name of the Koman goddess Kam) shows us that the information of de Plan del Car-pine is correct. this fact convinces us that the mongols and Komans had the goddess, whom they not only considered to be, but also called ‘the shamaness’.

now we should try to determine in what extent the etymology of the name Argimpasa, on the basis of the turkic languages, supports the turkic origin of this deity.

in order to offer an etymology of the name Argimpasa we should examine the following components: ar, arg, argi, gim, gam, pas, bas.

An etymology of the name of Argimpasa on the basis of the turkic languagesGim, pasa

in the language of the Cimmerians the root kim-/gim- sometimes had a variation and was transferred to kam-/gam-. We know this from the following facts. the Cimmerian ethnic name was recorded as Cimmer in most of the Greek sources starting from homer (1999: Xi, 14–19). But in the work of Dionisius Periege-tis we meet the tribe named Camarit. he briefly mentions that this tribe was preparing a sacred round dance. (2005). According to l. A. el’nitskiî these are the same people as the Cimmerians (1949: 25).2 in the Akkadian sources Cim-merians were named Gimirrai, but their country was named Gamir (Waterman 1930: l. 146). thus in both Greek and Akkadian sources we observe a frequent exchange of -a- and -i- in the language of the Cimmerians. We believe the same should apply to the language of the scythians.

Based on this we can propose that the root -gim-, in the name of the scyth-ian goddess, corresponds to the turkic word qam. this root (and its phonetic variations) has produced a whole number of words, semantically connected with shamanism, in the turkic languages. For example ‘whip’, ‘drum’, ‘mushrooms’,

2 in the name Camarit we observe the Cimmerian ethnic name Cimmer/Camar plus the plural suffix -t aded at the end. this plural suffix is wide spread in the scythian ethnic names (see miller 1882: ii, 119; hasanov 2012).

76 Zaur Hasanov

‘vessel’, ‘rainbow’, ‘Center of the World’, ‘fire’, the word ‘shaman’ itself, ‘medi-cine man’, ‘diviners’, ‘charmer’, ‘dismemberment of the candidate (to become a shaman) and his bones’, ‘performing shamanic ritual’, ‘paganism’, ‘to sing’, ‘to create a dull ringing’, (Kaşğari 2006: i, 274–3; i, 308–7; iii, 157–6; iii, 380–11; Dts 1969: 413).3

the last syllable in the theonym Argimpasa is identical to the turkic baş, bas, paş, pas. – ‘a head’ (body part), ‘a head’ (a person in charge) (sevortian 1978: 84–85).

Diviners

in turkic languages there is a group of words, starting with the component irq-, erk-, ırk-, ark-, united by the semantic meaning ‘prophecy’, ‘news from the fu-ture’.

– ırq – prophecy, oracle, fortune-telling, divination (Dts 1969: 220); – erk – free expression (sevortian 1974: 295, 296);– ırkla – to inquire omens, prophecy (Clauson 1972: 217);– arkun – next year (Kaşğari 2006: i, 153–24);– arkış – messenger, herald, letter, news (Kaşğari 2006: i. 161; Dts 1969:

54).As was mentioned above the root pas has a meaning: ‘a head’ in the turkic

languages (sevortian 1978: 84–85). Based on these words the name Argimpasa can have the following etymology – ‘the head of diviners and prophecies’.

– ırk – twigs for fortune-telling, sorcery, divination (Clauson 1972: 213);– uruk, urk – a rope (Clauson 1972: 215);– arğamçi – a lasso made from animal hair, a rope made from horse hair.

(sevortian 1974: 171);– arğamji – a hempen rope (mongolian) (sevortian 1974: 172);– eriş – a thread (for weaving), a woolen thread, horizontal poles installed

between the vertical bars of the barn wall (sevortian 1974: 294, 295).the above mentioned words, meaning ‘twigs for fortune-telling’, ‘a rope’, ‘a

thread’, ‘a finger’, are of the exceptional interest for this research, since they are literally repeat the manner of fortune-telling by the scythian priests. According to herodotus scythians have many diviners who predict the future with the help of many withies (twigs). then herodotus describes the second scythian method of divination, with the help of stripes (threads) of linden tree bark. they wind the stripes of linden tree bark around their fingers and then loosen it and pro-nounce a prophecy (1921: iV, 67).

3 i previously investigated the root qam/kam in connection with shamanism and the Cimmerian problem (see Gasanov 2008).


Based on the etymologies presented above we can offer the following etymol-ogy of the name Argimpasa – ‘the head of shamans divining with twigs, fingers and rope made from plants’.

The head of shamans, charmers

in the turkic languages there is a group of words, starting with the root ar-, with the semantic meaning – ‘charming, spell, sorcery’.

– ar – to tempt, (sevortian 1974: 170);– arba, arva – 1) to charm, to enchant, to mumble a spell, magic, sorcery, 2)

to tempt, to cheat (sevortian 1974: 169);– arva – to make invocations (Dts 1969: 58; Kaşğari 2006: i, 308–7, 8); the

exchange of arğu–arka–arva is natural for turkic languages (see sertkaya 1995: 217–223);

– arğa – ruse, trick (sevortian 1974: 170); – arğu – to charm, to meditate (Clauson 1972: 220).Another group of words containing the root kam is united by the semantic

meanings describing a shaman, his actions and qualities.– kam, kam kiji – a shaman (Kaşğari 2006: i, 308–7; radlov 1899: 476);– kamna, kamda – to practice shamanism; kamlık – the actions of a shaman,

fortune-telling; kapırlık – godlessness, paganism; kopsa – to sing; kamtıra – to create a dull ringing; kumalak – to predict future, to tell fortunes by the means of sheep’s faeces (radlov 1899: 412, 490, 491, 656, 1047).

– A shaman practices shamanism, tells fortunes, creates a dull ringing, sings, possesses eloquence and is a pagan.

– Based on the etymologies presented above we can offer the following ety-mology of the name Argimpasa – ‘the head of shamans, charmers, fortune-tellers and sorcerers’.

A whip as an instrument of a shaman

Words starting with the root kam, denoting ‘a whip’, are widespread in the tur-kic languages.

– kamçï, kamçu, kam�ı, kamjı – a whip (Kaşğari 2006: i, 414–25; radlov 1899: 490, 493, 495, 496).

etymology of the theonym Argimpasa as ‘the head of whip users’ is of special interest in the context of comparison of historical, archaeological, linguistic and ethnographic data. this etymology finds its direct parallel in the traditions of turko-mongolian shamans, who often use a whip instead of a drum and a drum beater. sometimes they even call their drum beaters and a drum a ‘whip’. Yakuts believed that a drum was a horse of the shaman. Altai, Yakut and sagai shamans

78 Zaur Hasanov

considered their drum beaters to be a whip (eliade 1972: 165–167, 179; Alek-seev 1984: 118, 150, 167). Kazakh, Kyrgyz and Daur shamans are using a whip instead of a drum and a drum beater, during their ceremonies (Fig. 1c) (hoppál 2005a: Fig. 34; 2005b: 247). A drum beater (a whip) was used by siberian sha-mans for divinations along with such polysemous objects as a ladle, a bowl and a bow (l’vova 1984: 88). in general a whip is one of the widespread instruments of a shaman. turko-mongolian shamans often use their whips as a major instru-ment during their ecstatic journeys.

A whip (drumbeater) and a drum are the symbols of a shaman’s power and his/her journey to the other world. these two symbolic meanings of a whip can be observed from ancient times. the first written evidence that a drum and a drumbeater were the symbols of power over the people is presented in the sumerian Gilgamesh epic. in the epic it is narrated that the goddess inana (Ak-kadian ishtar) planted a tree in the hope of making a throne and a couch from its wood for herself, once the tree had grown tall. When this happened and the goddess decided to cut the tree she found out that at the base of it ‘the snake that knows no charm had built its nest’ and ‘in its crown the fierce imdugud-bird has placed its young’. in the middle of the tree the vampire lilith had built her house. the main hero of the epic Gilgamesh comes to help the goddess. he kills the snake and drives away the bird and the lilith. After that he cuts the tree and presents it to the goddess inanna. From this tree she makes for Gil-gamesh a drum (pukku) and a drum beater (mikku). When Gilgamesh started to beat the drum he tormented the men of his city, and they could not do any-thing about it. Finally the women of the city complained to the gods, and they opened a hole in the ground through which the drum and the drumbeater fell to the underworld. Gilgamesh painfully takes this loss and sends his friend to the underworld in order to rescue the drum and the drumbeater (Kramer 1971: 198–199; George 2003: 528, 748, 771, 898).

researchers of shamanism have already drawn attention to the connection of this episode with the mythology of shamanism. According to Åke hultkrantz this storyline from the sumerian epic gets its origin from the mythology of sha-manism (1995: 152).

Another the earliest written evidence showing that a whip is a symbol of power we meet in the egyptian Book of the Dead, where osiris was depicted with a crook and a whip. According to Wallis e. A. Budge, these two symbols were considered ‘emblems of sovereignty and dominion’ (1898: XVii). on the sar-cophagus of the egyptian Pharaoh tutankhamun we observe these symbols of osiris. tutankhamun holds in his hands a golden crook and a flail (whip). the handle of the whip is wrapped (with intervals) with horizontal golden plates (Dallas museum of Art).


A whip with a handle covered with a spiral gold ribbon was found in the dro-mos area of the scythian burial mound ‘tolstaya mogila’ in ukraine (Fig. 1d) (mozolevskiî 1979: Fig. 37; reeder et al. 1999: Fig. 14). the function of the dromos in the ritual is to provide a road for the journey to another world. the handle of this whip was covered with a spiral gold band. A similar whip handle covered with a spiral gold band was found in the saka burial mound issyk in Kazakhstan (Fig. 1a) (Akishev 1978: Fig. 50).

in the culture of the royal scythians a ‘whip’ symbolized the power of the royal tribal union, with which they subjugated the people of the northern Black sea region. According to herodotus, when the scythians could not defeat the sons of the blind slaves with their weapons they decided to attack with their whips, in order to show who the real masters are. the sons of the blind slaves immediately fled in fear (1921: iV, 3). We can observe that a whip had a much stronger power than a sword, which once again points out to the supernatural quality of a whip in scythian society.

Fig. 1. (a) Saka burial

mound Issyk (Akishev 1978, Fig. 50); (b)

Timber-grave culture (Otroshenko 1986: Fig. 1);

(c) Daur shamaness (Hoppál 2005a: Fig. 34); (d) – (Mozolevskiî 1979:

Fig. 37)

a b c

d

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Very similar whips, with spiral type handles, but made of bone, were found in the burials of timber-grave culture (Fig. 1b) (from which the Cimmerians get their origin). According to the researcher of these burials V. V. otroshenko these whips were the symbols of a high rank of the buried. he compares the whips of the timber-grave culture to the whips of scythians and sakas. At the end of his research he comes to the conclusion that spirals on these whip handles represent a serpent (1986: 230) (which is considered to be one of the means of transport of a shaman). According to ethnographers the depiction of the snake on the handle of the drumbeater of the siberian shamans was called by them the shaman’s whip (Alekseev 1984). shamans used this ‘snake’ (a whip) to ride their transport animal. thus a snake is semantically connected with the means of transportation of the shaman.

A twining snake symbolizes twining around the World tree, which grows through the upper, middle and lower worlds. According to mircea eliade in the cosmology of shamanism the lower World, which is personified by female, is presented by such symbols as water and the snake. the upper World, personi-fied as male, is represented by a bird. the World tree personifies the original unity and is the archetype of the creative activities of humans (1964: 266–287). thus a snake in shamanism is personified as female and associated with the World tree, or more exactly with its roots.

the conclusion of V. V. otroshenko, that the spirals on the timber-grave, scythian and saka whips are associated with the serpent, is supported by the fact that for the shamans of the turkic people of siberia the depiction of the snake on the handle of the drum meant “a whip of the shaman” (Alekseev 1984). As was pointed out above in the scythian burial mound “tolstaya mogila” the whip with handle covered with the spiral golden ribbon was found in the dro-mos area (mozolevskiî 1979: 53, Fig. 37), which is considered to be the road to the other world. in other words the whip helped the deceased to travel to the other world.

Based on the arguments presented above we can conclude that the Cimme-rian, scythian, and turko-mongolian shamans used their whips for the journey to the other worlds and for all of these people a whip represented power and was semantically associated with a snake. All of the arguments presented above allow us to give the following etymology to the theonym Argimpasa – “the head of shamans traveling the Worlds with the help of the whip”.

Vessel, ladle, water, liquid

Another group of words starting with the root kam- is united by the semantic meaning of ‘a vessel’ or ‘capacity for liquid’:

– kumra – pottery (radlov 1899: 1050);


– kap/gab/gap – vessel (radlov 1899: 401; erçilasun 1991: 434–435); – kamıs, kamïç, çömç� – ladle (radlov 1899: 486; Kaşğari 2006: i, 125–9, ii,

111–15).the vessel is one of the instruments of a priest in many world religions. in

shamanism a vessel personifies the milk lake, which is considered to be a natu-ral vessel and one of the markers of the Center of the World (l’vova et al. 1988: 123). Another sphere of the symbolic application of the vessel in shamanism is an initiation ritual. During this the spirits boil the future shaman in a special cauldron, while cutting his body into pieces and examining his bones (l’vova et al. 1988: 59–60, 141). in general a vessel is a polysemous object (l’vova et al. 1984: 88).

Another group of words starting with the root aris united by the semantic meaning of ‘purification’.

– arı – to get oneself purified (Dts 1969: 51);– arığ – clean, pure, (Clauson 1972: 213).Vámbéry compares the turkic roots ir, er, ür, meaning ‘to become liquid’, ‘to

melt’, ‘to mix’, ‘to burst’ with the word üräk – ‘river’ (Vámbéry 1878: 42). se-vortian compares the turkic words aral, arqu, arğı, arıg, arı, meaning ‘big river’, ‘river branch’, ‘island on a river’, with Chagatai ar – ‘water’ and hungarian ár – ‘stream’ (1974: 167). All of these arguments show us that the Ancient turkic roots ar- and er- go back to the same semantic root ar – ‘river/water’, er – ‘to become liquid/to melt’.

Based on the above mentioned etymologies we can offer the following ety-mology of the theonym Argimpasa – ‘the head of those performing a ritual with a vessel, ladle, water’.

The head of performers of musical instruments

in the turkic languages there is a word ir – ‘song’ (Dts 1969: 219). this word is present in all of the groups of the Altaic language family. the authors of the Etymological dictionary of the Altaic languages present the proto-Altaic word *íru – ‘song’ (starostin et al. 2003: 591).

Another group of words in the turkic languages is united by the semantics of ‘music’:

– komıs – musical instrument in general (radlov 1899: 670);– kaval, gaval, kibçik, küwrük – a drum (radlov 1899: 464, 1401; erçilasun

1991: 864; Kaşğari 2006: i, 450–9);– kobuz, kubuz, kopuz, kobıs, kobus – stringed musical instrument (Kaşğari

2006: i, 69–13, ii, 238–5, iii, 169–21; radlov 1899: 660, 661, 654, 1036].shamans use drums in their rituals in order to get into a trance. the sha-

manic drum and stringed musical instruments are closely connected with each

82 Zaur Hasanov

other. For example the Kyrgyz baksi (shamans) use the kobuz – a stringed mu-sical instrument, instead of a drum, in order to enter a state of ecstasy (eliade 1964: 180).

s. A. starostin reconstructs the proto-Altaic word *kúma – ‘musical instru-ment’. it was proven by starostin that the ancient Chinese word gh�m – ‘a mu-sical instrument with 7 strings’ was borrowed from the Altaic languages (2008: 254–262).

Based on the etymologies presented above we can offer the following etymol-ogy of the name Argimpasa – ‘the head of singers and performers of musical instruments’.

Polysemous etymology of the theonym Argimpasa

After examining all the data we can come to the conclusion that the etymology of the theonym Argimpasa is polysemous and is equal to the sum of all of the etymological meanings presented above. All polysemous meanings of her name go back to the semantics: ‘charm’, ‘purification’, ‘the head of shamans’, ‘the head of charmers’, ‘the head of singers of sacred songs and performers of musical in-struments’, ‘the head of diviners’, ‘the head of those performing a ritual with a vessel, ladle, water’, ‘the head of shamans divining with twigs, fingers and rope made from plants”, the head of whip users’.

Aphrodite Ourania, the mistress of Apaturumthe cult of Aphrodite was widespread in the Bosporus (ukraine) during the scythian period. here she was also known by the name Aphrodite ourania, the mistress of Apaturum (Αφροδίτη[ι] Οὐρανίηι ‘Απατούρο μεδεούσηι (struve 1965: no. 1111)). many researchers identify the cult of this goddess and the scythian Argimpasa. For example s. s. Bessonova points out that the similar-ity of Aphrodite ourania, the mistress of Apaturum and Argimpasa can be de-termined by their epithet – ‘ourania’ (heavenly) (1983: 39). this conclusion of Bessonova is based on the information of herodotus, who identifies the scyth-ian goddess Argimpasa with the Greek Aphrodite ourania.

A number of written sources testify that Aphrodite Apatouros had a sanc-tuary, named Apaturum, in the Bosporus. these are strabo, Plyni the elder, Claudius Ptolemy, stephanus of Byzantium (Plyni the elder 2005: Vi, 18; Ptole-my Claudius 2005: V, 8, 2; strabo 1964: Xi, 2, 10; stephanus of Byzantium 2005).

s. s. Bessonova studied all of this information about Aphrodite Apatouros in the Bosporian inscriptions and determined that starting from the 4th century BCe she has a double epithet – Aphrodite ourania, the mistress of Apaturum (struve 1965: no. 1111; Bessonova 1983: 39).


m. i. Artamonov, l. A. el’nitskiî and Yu. ustinova think that at the base of the cult of Aphrodite Apatouros there was a cult of a local deity, or influence of the local scythian traditions i.e. the cult of Aphrodite-Argimpasa (1961: 71; 1960: 40; 1998b: 35). Bessonova thinks that the cult of Aphrodite Apatouros was syncretic and combined in itself the features of Greek, eastern and local (scythian) deity (1983: 39).

As regards the etymology of the epithet Apatouros researchers believe it had local (scythian) origin (el’nitskiî 1960: 40). Yu. ustinova points out that the word Apatouros was incomprehensible for Greeks and for this reason they in-vented false etymologies resting on phonetically similarly Greek words (1998a: 211).

now let us try to answer the question: to what extent can the materials of the Altaic language family help to clarify the origin of the epithet Apatouros?

in the turkic languages the word apa, aba has a meaning – ‘mother’ (Kaşğari 2006: i, 151–158). According to G. Clauson words of the form aba, apa, ebe, epe connoting various terms of relationships in modern turkic languages – ‘ances-tor, grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, uncle, aunt, older brother, older sister’ (1972: 5).

According to the Etymological dictionary of the Altaic languages in the proto-Altaic there was a word *áp’a – ‘father, ancestor’. in some languages of the man-chu-tungus group the apa – ‘father’ becomes papa (starostin et al. 2003: 310).

Proto-Altaic word p῾ăp῾a – ‘shaman, sorcery’ belongs to the same semantic group. tungus *pap-; mongolian *hab; turkic *apači, *apaki; Japanese *papur- (starostin et al. 2003: 1122).

According to the authors of the Etymological dictionary of the Altaic languages in turkic languages there often occurs dropping of the initial proto-Altaic *p�- (starostin et al. 2003: 25–26). Accordingly the proto-Altaic word p῾ăp῾a – ‘sha-man’ in the proto-turkic languages should have sounded *ăp῾a.

in general it should be pointed out that the root ‘apa’ in the word Apatur has a common basis with the name of the scythian goddess Api. Both words go back to the meaning ‘mother’, or ‘ancestor’. But this is the only detail that connects these two names. Apatouros and Api are absolutely different goddesses with ab-solutely different functions. the only details that connect them are that both of them are women and both of them are ancestors. the goddess Api is ‘a mother patroness of childbirth and children’. Apatouros (Argimpasa) is ‘a shamaness’ (the head of shamans). she is in essence a deified first shamaness.

now let us move on to the etymology of the root tur-. in the Etymological dictionary of the Altaic languages the forms of the word tor/tur/tir/tul/tol have the following meanings:

84 Zaur Hasanov

– *t῾ire – head (mongolian *teriɣün – first) (starostin et al. 2003: 1427, 1428).

this word helps us to support the assumption that the Apatouros was the deified first shamaness.

the following words:– *tṓŕu – birch bark (starostin et al. 2003: 1380);– *t῾iŭre (tungus *türü) – straps for hanging (starostin et al. 2003: 1446). – *t῾ūĺke (~ -i) dream, divination (starostin et al. 2003: 1473).these words repeat the etymological scheme that we observed in the exam-

ple of the theonym Argimpasa. As was pointed out above the words are literally repeating the second method of divination, described in the work of herodo-tus. scythians told fortunes with the help of strips (threads) of linden tree bark (1921: iV, 67).

Based on these words we can offer the following etymologies:– *[p]Apa-tur – ‘the first shamaness, patroness of diviners predicting the fu-

ture on straps made of birch bark’Another group of words is unified by the semantics of animals and birds:– *t῾ṓrV – young animal (starostin et al. 2003: 1464).– *t῾oro(-k῾V) – of bird (starostin et al. 2003: 1463)this group of words allows the offering of an etymology related to the pa-

troness of animals. if we add to this scheme the title of Apatouros – μεδεούσηι meaning ‘mistress’ (in ancient Greek) then we will get the following etymology:

– *[p]Apa-tur – ‘the first shamaness, mistress of animals and birds’. the following group of words:– *t῾iăru (tungus *turē-) – to curse (starostin et al. 2003: 1434).– *t῾ólV – bridge, crossing. (starostin et al. 2003: 1456).– *t῾ṓr[e] – post, pole, tower, *turu (tungus) – sacred (shaman’s) pole, place)

(starostin et al. 2003: 1461).this group of words allows us to offer the following etymology:– *[p]Apa-tur – ‘the first shamaness, charmer, controlling the bridge to the

other world, installing the shamans pole and receiving sacrifices’.now we can come to the conclusion that the epithet ‘the mistress of Apa-

turum’, belonging to the scythian goddess Argimpasa, has the following poly-semous etymology: ‘the first shamaness, patroness of diviners predicting the future on straps made of birch bark, mistress of animals and birds, charmer, controlling the bridge to the other world, installing the shamans pole and re-ceiving sacrifices’.

All of the evidence brought above helped us to determine the etymology of the scythian goddess Argimpasa’s name and her epithet Apatouros. now we should move to the question of the images of this goddess.


Fig. 2. (a, b) plaques from Chertomlyk barrow

(Piotrovsky et al 1986: Fig. 258; Raevskiî 2006:

Fig. 8); (c) fragment of a rython from

Merdzhany (Bessonova 1983: Fig. 31)

Analysis of images of the goddesses in Scythian art the examination of the images of goddesses in scythian art allows us to identify several pronounced categories of these images:

1) goddess in a sitting position, with a mirror in her hand and an unmounted scythian standing in front of her with a vessel (Fig. 2b);

2) goddess in a sitting position, with a flame next to her and an unmounted scythian, with a vessel, standing on her other side (Fig. 2a);

3) goddess in a sitting position, with a tree and a mounted scythian standing in front of her with a vessel, or without it (Fig. 2c); also from Pazyryk, burial mound no. 5 (rudenko 1968: Fig. 46);

4) goddess in a sitting position, with a tree and a pole with a horse scull in-stalled on it (Fig. 2c);

5) three standing goddesses accompanied by severed male’s heads – from oguz barrow (Boltrik, Fialko 2007: Fig. 6–8);

6) goddess in a sitting position accompanied by two standing goddesses, two scythians and severed males’ heads – from Karagodeuashkh (Bessonova 1983: Fig. 27, 28);

7) goddess, with severed male head in her hand (Fig. 4a);8) goddess, with zoomorphic limbs (Fig. 4a);

a b

c

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9) goddess, with serpentine limbs – horse front strap from tsinbalka (Arta-monov 1961: Fig. 9);

10) goddess, with vegetative limbs – a dish from Certomlyk (Artamonov 1961: Fig. 13);

11) winged goddess (Fig.s 3c, 4a, 4b, 4c);12) winged goddess, with animals (Fig.s 3a, 3c). Variety of all of the detail of these images does not always allow us to iden-

tify the exact groups of these images. it is also very difficult to determine, who of the three scythian goddesses is depicted in each particular case.

in the literature devoted to this subject there is a sufficient number of disa-greements on this matter.

As stated by s. s. Bessonova Argimpasa is the most anthropomorphic of the three scythian goddesses. she believes that the scythians borrowed her in the middle east together with the iconography of the goddess. According to Bessonova, and many other authors, Argimpasa is the near eastern goddess ishtar (1983: 40). if we accept this conclusion then it will turn out that the two remaining scythian goddesses, tabiti and Api, have no anthropomorphic depic-tions, for the reason that they are not borrowed, but original scythian goddess-es. these conclusions absolutely do not reflect the real situation of scythian art for the following reasons.

i believe that the scythians could have borrowed the iconography of Aphro-dite ourania in the middle east. But long before their campaigns to the region they were already familiar with the concept of this goddess. And that was the exact reason they adopted the middle eastern goddess ishtar to the character-istics of the scythian goddess named Argimpasa. We can prove this by the fact that the scythians had their own name and epithet for this goddess. they did not use the semitic form of the name ishtar, but called her Argimpasa and gave her an epithet Apatouros. examination of the early period of scythian art (7th–6th centuries BCe) shows the lack of anthropomorphic depictions. scythian art is mostly zoomorphic (with some exceptions, e.g. anthropomorphic stone sculp-tures). But in the later periods scythian art of the northern Black sea region starts to actively use anthropomorphic images. it is absolutely clear that these anthropomorphic storylines depicting gods and humans are based on the my-thology of scythians and often literally describe the qualities specific to their gods and the areas of activity for which they are accountable.

in connection with this we should bring forward the point of view of mihály hoppál:

cultures are characterized by an easily traceable multilinguality (multicodality) in other words the same message is formulated in various different ways by the mem-bers of the community. Thus, for example, beside narrating it in a myth, they also

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Fig. 4. (a) plaque from Kul-Oba (Firsov, Žuravlev 2007: Fig. 7); (b) plaque from Bolshaia Bliznitsa barrow (Piotrovsky et al 1986: Fig. 208); (c) pole-top from Alexandropol barrow (Piotrovsky et al 1986: Fig. 286)

Fig. 3. (a) mirror from Kelermess burial

mound No. 1 (Piotrovsky et al 1986: Fig. 48);

(b) Babylonian terracotta plaque (The British Museum);

(c) (Piotrovsky et al 1986: Fig. 260)

a b c

a b

c

88 Zaur Hasanov

act out the subject matter in the form of a rite or express it in a graphic form in a rock drawing or on the shaman’s drum. Such safety measures ensure that texts which are important for the culture might survive, at least in fragments (hoppál 2009: 107).

Based on the statement of mihály hoppál we can come to the conclusion that in the cultures practicing shamanism, art is not of the depictive, but of descriptive (storytelling) character. Accordingly the depictions of the scythian goddesses should describe their qualities, the areas they are accountable for and also the rituals associated with them.

The depictions of ArgimpasaBased on the analyses of different images of women in scythian art i came to the conclusion that some of those images depicting a goddess in a sitting posi-tion (sometimes on a throne) with a flame next to her or a mirror in her hand, are definitely not the depictions of Argimpasa. these are the depictions of the scythian goddess tabiti. unfortunately the limited volume of this paper does not allow us to look deeper into this issue. But at least it should be pointed out that for example the flame near the image of the goddess proves her connec-tion with the Greek hestia (takho-Godi 1980), who according to herodotus was identical to the scythian tabiti. herodotus also mentions that the scythians considered tabiti to be their queen (1921: iV, 59, 127). that could be the reason she was depicted seated on a throne.

let us move to the analyses of the images that can be identified with Argim-pasa. According to s. s. Bessonova the scythian Argimpasa was depicted, in the form of the mistress of the animals, on the mirror from the scythian Kelermess burial mound no. 1. on this mirror there is an image of a winged goddess hold-ing two panthers by their legs (Bessonova 1983: 81–83, Fig. 8, 1). this image can be compared with the famous Babylonian terracotta plaque kept in the British museum. it is known as ‘Burney relief ’ or ‘the Queen of the night relief ’. on this plaque we see a naked goddess with a bird’s legs and wings. she is standing on two feline predators. either side of her we see standing owls (Fig. 3b). Ac-cording to some researchers this is a depiction of the goddess ishtar (the Brit-ish museum).

Bessonova believes that another image of the mistress of the animals is pre-sent on the openwork plaque and bronze pole-top from the Alexandropol bar-row (Fig.s 3c, 4c). on both of these findings we observe a goddess with wings. on the openwork plaque this winged goddess is depicted with two deers on her sides, in the same burial there (Bessonova 1983: 87).

the most unique depiction of the goddess, mistress of the animals can be observed on the golden plaque from the scythian burial mound Kul-oba. on


the plaque we observe a goddess with the body and head of a human. instead of legs she has limbs in the form of leonine griffins and serpents. in the upper part of her body we see a wing like outgrowth ending with the heads of horned griffins. in her left hand the goddess holds the severed head of a man (Firsov, Žuravlev 2007: Fig. 7).

on this plaque we observe the ritual of the severance of the shaman’s head. this ritual is well known from the literature on shamanism. For example, during the initiation ceremonies of the Yakut shamans, the spirits behead the candidate and then put his head on its side, so he can observe his own dismemberment (eliade 1964: 33–34).

on this plaque we observe an image of the mistress of animals conducting a ritual of initiation of the shaman, by severing his head.

A mythological image of the mistress is widespread in siberian shamanism. For example the Altay shamans have a mistress of the mountain, who milks mountain animals.4 usually these mistresses are naked blondes, who try to seduce hunters, and trick them into getting into intimate relations. usually a meeting of a hunter and the mistress ends with a marriage. in Altay folklore these women can be mistresses of mountains and waters (sagalaev 1992: 72, 82, 132). they are called su-eezi, tag-eezi.

the plot describing the seduction of Altaic hunter by the mistress repeats the plot of the scythian myth, described by herodotus, in which the scythian herakles was seduced by a half woman half serpent in a cave. (herodotus 1921: iV, 8–10; hasanov 2007).

4 Yakuts shamans had a spirit named iîe-kïïl – ‘mother-animal’ (or mistress-animal). it was considered to be a double of the shaman personified in an animal e.g. deer, bear etc. Yakut shamans concealed the location of their mother-animal, because if she was wounded or killed, then the shaman whose double she was would also be injured or killed. Weak shamans had their mother-animal in the form of a dog. the strongest shamans had their mother-animal personified in a bull, moose, stallion, eagle, or black bear (Alekseev 1984).

Fig. 5. Goddess, patroness of diviners and sorcerers in the Scythian, Hunnic and Koman tradition

V-th c. BC iV-th c. AD Xiii-th c. AD

source herodotus moses of KalankatGiovanni da Pian del

Carpine

goddess Argimpasa-Aphrodite Aphrodite Kam

people scythians huns Komans

functiongoddess of effeminate

priests and divinersgoddess of magicians

and sorcerersgoddess of diviners

and sorcerers

90 Zaur Hasanov

in scythian art the depictions of a serpent limbed goddess are very common. s. s. Bessonova divides them into two types: zoomorphic and vegetative limbs (1983: 93). she comes to the conclusion that on the serpent limbed depictions of the scythian art we observe a unification of the scheme – woman, World tree and mistress of the animals (1983: 93, 96). A. m. Khazanov also identifies Ar-gimpasa with the images of a serpent limbed goddess and calls her “the mistress of the animal world” (1975: 177). thus the depictions of the serpent limbed goddess of the scythians are also identified with Argimpasa by the researchers.

Another depiction, which is connected with the image of Argimpasa, was ex-cavated from the scythian burial mound from Bolshaya Bliznitsa, this is a gold-en plaque depicting a winged goddess. in general the iconography of all of these images (the winged goddess, the serpent limbed goddess, the goddess with sev-ered head in her hand) demonstrates stylistic and compositional identity. All of the arguments brought here allow us to state that these are the depictions of the scythian goddess Argimpasa.

Conclusion 1. the diviners of huns and Komans worshipped a goddess identical to Ar-

gimpasa.2. the etymological analyses of the theonym Argimapsa on the basis of tur-

kic languages show that it is polysemous and is equal to the sum of all of the etymological meanings presented in this paper. such as: ‘charm’, ‘purification’, ‘the head of shamans, sacred song singers, performers of musical instruments, diviners’, ‘the head of those performing a ritual with a vessel, ladle, water’, ‘the head of shamans divining with twigs, fingers and rope made from plants’, ‘the head of whip users’.

3. A symbol of Argimpasa in the scythian barrows was a whip with a spiral handle, which was associated with a snake. it was used for the journey to the other worlds and represented power over people.

4. the epithet ‘the mistress of Apaturum’, belonging to the scythian goddess Argimpasa has the following polysemous etymology on the basis of turkic lan-guages and Altaic languages in general: ‘the first shamaness, patroness of divin-ers predicting the future on straps made of birch bark, mistress of animals and birds, charmer, controlling the bridge to the other world, installing the shaman’s pole and receiving sacrifices’.

5. the iconography of the scythian images of the winged goddess, the ser-pent limbed goddess and the goddess with severed male head in her hand dem-onstrate stylistic and compositional identity. All of these images belong to the scythian goddess Argimpasa.


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http://www.britishmuseum.org/explore/highlights/highlight_objects/me/t/queen_of_the_night_relief.aspx



Giovannni Kezich

The bear and the plough: Shamanism in the Neolithic

the notion of 'conjecture' in anthropology has been steadily declining in sta-tus at least since radcliffe-Brown’s (1929) influential anathema against Frazer’s 'conjectural history'. however, later reflections in general epistemology, espe-cially following Karl Popper (1963) have recognized instead the crucial role of 'conjecturing' as a specific driving force in the scientific process and a constitu-ent part of the scientific method.

in this perspective, what is offered here is an essay in 'conjectural anthropol-ogy', with a view to the drafting of a dynamic or be it 'epigenetic' model that may account for the transformations of shamanism and shamanic practices, or be them 'shamanhood' or 'shamanship' (following hoppal, 2001; 2006), along-side the evolution of the modes of production, from hunting and foraging to husbandry and agriculture, on the two sides of the neolithic frontier, so as to provide a general key to the understanding of a very important sector of the primitive magic universe.

With characteristic baldness, our colleague sergio Poggianella (2007) has pre-sented, in a number of meetings all over europe, some very cogent iconological evidence as towards the continuity of shamanic culture well beyond the demise of its natural pristine tribal niches, and its long standing, almost embarrassing protrusion well into the neolithic and beyond, in the very heart of the peasant societies of present day’s europe, at least as far as the general features of the shaman’s own ritual attire are concerned, and some distinctive features of his performing act. this can be easily shown by putting side by side pictures of the shamans of inner mongolia, with the closely corresponding figures which are found in the winter masquerades of the Balkan peninsula, such as that of the kukeri of thrace, matched by many other like instances in the Balkans, italy, iberia and elsewhere.

96 Giovannni Kezich

Coldly greeted with mild disbelief and general lack of interest, Poggianella’s idea, supported somewhat feebly by hinting at the underlying esoteric com-monplaces of that natural, holistic religion of the cosmos that underpins all traditional systems of belief, really deserves a somewhat sounder scaffolding. to provide such an argumentation in favour of Poggianella’s intuition is the specific aim of this paper. how and why does shamanic ideology migrate out of the hunter-and-gatherer’s world into that of the early agriculturalists? And, in this perspective, is there any scope in considering the two side by side, as two separate stages of development of a single complex set of beliefs and practices?

it is in the nature of 'epigenetic' models – a metaphor drawn from embryol-ogy (Waddington, 1953), which has occasionally already been deployed in an-thropology with some success (Friedman & rowlands 1977) – that of accounting for developmental processes starting from a complex and already differentiated set of interacting elements (such as an embryo), rather than from a simple toti-potent undifferentiated original cell (such as the zygote).

let us now turn to this pristine set of conditions, looking at the essential, 'core' shamanism, as some would call it (following harner 1980), in order to trace the logic of its further 'epigenetic' development.

For present purposes, the most important feature of shamanism to be sin-gled out in evolutionary perspective is that of its embedded relation with hunt-ing, i.e. with the strategies of the procuring of food. it seems beyond any reason-able doubt, in fact, that shamanism at its core derives from the act of hunting a great deal of its essential imagery, beginning with that quest for an animal guiding spirit, which is at the basis of every shamanic initiation, the direct trans-lation in psychic terms of the kind of exercise which has been perfected by gen-erations of prehistoric hunters out in the bush, in the tundra or on the ice-pack, while chasing their game, waiting for it, wooing it to its death and finally, when overwhelmed by the sense of dismal and despair that every death brings with it, following it to some kind of netherworld beyond that of physical reality.

in shamanism, this is possibly more than mere metaphor. in fact, if we look at the circumstances of primitive hunting, at the immensity of the landscapes, at the dispersion and the swiftness of game, and at the kind of weaponry involved, we will have to think that without the deployment of some real psychic force that helps in seeking the game, summoning it to surrender in the hands of the hunter – as in the celebrated case of the nookia shamans summoning a whole school of porpoise to their death (Coon 1973; Grimble 1952) – and the follow-ing it to the most remote abodes of the afterlife to secure appeasement, all the odds would be against man, and hunting, if at all possible, would often not be worth the effort. so, in the absence of such complex psychic devices which, with-out being too esoteric, we may suppose to have been quite real at some stage, hunting for man is too difficult.

97The bear and the plough: Shamanism in the Neolithic

on the other hand, once the psychic device is operating, it can easily be trans-ferred from hunting to other endeavors such as soothsaying and healing. in this perspective, the shamans’ progress into the spiritual world could possibly be seen as a specific outcome of the psychic abilities which were necessary to the hunter to tune in with his game and its habits, to lure it within one’s reach, and finally to dispatch of it 'properly', i.e. without being overwhelmed by guilt and despair, and by the sense of pending misfortune due to the game’s inevitable revenge.

let’s for the time leave aside this issue, which devoid of an ethnography of its own may of course turn our conjecturing into pure speculation, and let’s be content with the notion of the inbred relevance of some original hunting meta-phor to the construction of shamanism or 'shamanhood' at large.

now let’s take a leap of some 10–15 millennia, out of the primitive hunt-ers’ world, and into that of present day winter fertility rituals, such as those invoked by Poggianella and his Bulgarian kukeri, on the grounds of the self-de-claring close similarity of their attire to that of the ancient shamans (Fig. 1). still following Poggianella (2007), such similarities can be thus summarized: both

Fig. 1. A shaman’s ritual costume from Inner Mongolia (left), compared with one of a Bulgarian kuker (right). Courtesy of Fondazione Sergio Poggianella

98 Giovannni Kezich

shamans and kukeri wear a mask for disguise and/or protection, on a costume where a basic horizontal partition is evident, on the basis of a prominent girdle of bells meant to cast away evil spirits, they are both androgynous, in that they combine in one single costume discrete male and female single features, and, what is more significant, they both either communicate directly with the dead, as in the case of the shamans, or they represent the dead themselves, being explicitly recognized as ancestors, 'old ones', 'geroi' in Greek, 'stari' or 'didi' in the slavic languages, and the like. in that, during the ritual, they are both 'dead-men walking', being alive and dead at the same time.

there are also differences, of course, of which the main one is that the shaman’s is essentially a solo act, whilst the kukeri, and their more or less close relatives scattered around

europe (djolomari, zvončari, kurenti, kujeki, bušos, arlechini, zanni, joaldunak...), are invariably a chorus, working in unison.

As in the Greek tragedy, this chorus, after the performance of a certain amount of introductory antics, functions as the living backdrop of a ceremonial act which takes place on the front of the stage. in a huge variety of ethnographic contexts, this ceremony is most often than not constituted by (a) a mock mar-riage, celebrated by a false priest amidst some measure of general hilarity and (b) a ceremonial ploughing (which is instead not meant to be particularly funny) of the square where the ritual is taking place. Both these rituals – mock-mar-riage (Fig. 2) and ceremonial ploughing (Fig. 3) – can be observed with almost paradigmatic perfection among the kukeri of eastern thrace (mishkova 2011).

the shamans proven and long standing abilities to secure the catching of game and thus the continuing prosperity of the hunting community, are here transformed and transferred onto a completely different scenario, one in which a chorus of shaman-like figures testify the validity of an equation between the fertility of the soils (via ploughing) and that of people (via marriage), with the

Fig. 2. Mock marriage ceremony in the village of Chelnik near Yambol, eastern Bulgaria, 17th February 2008. A standing 'chorus line' of kukeri can be seen in the background


ritual enactment of such symbolic activities (ploughing being a common, if somewhat gross, metaphor of the sexual act (Fig. 4) as in a sort of neolithic ceremonial manifesto.

instances of ritual ploughing in the context of winter rituals of fertility, often paired with semi-burlesque marriage ceremonies performed in front of a chorus line of clanging shaman-like masked bell-shakers, are reported from a variety of ethnographic contexts in peasant europe, in Greece and Bulgaria, in slovenia, across the Alps, in the italian south and in sardinia, and as far as in england, testifying by the sheer spectrum of this diffusion, of the great antiquity of the underlying original ceremonial complex.

in all these rituals of marriage-cum-ploughing-cum-masks, several recurring characters or acts are found, some of which are directly relevant to our argu-ment. one of these regulars, once the end of the ceremony proper has given way to a more relaxed and burlesque phase of the masquerade, is almost invariably a Bear-made-tame with his gipsy guardian-fiddler (Fig. 5).

Bears as such are in fact found throughout the Balkans, from macedonia to Croatia, in Central europe from Bohemia to Poland, in the Alps and the Pyrenees.

Fig. 3. Ritual ploughing of the village square: the bride leads the plough and the husband holds the steer. Chelnik, 17th February 2008

[100]

Fig. 4. The plough ready for action, as a rudimental metaphor of the sexual act. Note the kukeri’s attire – representing one cow and one ox – is similar to that of figure 1, above. Chelnik, 17th February 2008

Fig. 5. A Bear with its Tamer, armed with the Bulgarian folk lyre called gadulka, invariably follows the cortege of the kukeri. Festival of the Kukeri at Yambol, Bulgaria, 16th February 2008

Fig. 6.Some kind of ramshackle quadruped, camel, goat, or hobby-horse as in this case is also very commonly featured at the end of the kukeri’s parade. Festival of the Kukeri at Yambol, Bulgaria, 16th February 2008


Besides their puzzling ubiquity – along-side other figures such as, most typically, a rather ramshackle quadruped alternate-ly identified with a she-goat, a koza (Po-land), a hind, a mare, a rusa (slovenia), or a she-camel (Fig. 6) – one interesting feature of these bears is that, quite often, they don’t look like bears at all: instead, they are made of thick coils of straw like giant beehives (Fig. 7) and, in fact, they really look like sheafs, walking sheafs of wheat, rye or barley, like John Barleycorn of the english folk-song: “John Barleycorn must die”.

strapped behind the carnival band-wagon as the spoils of some ancient war, – a true war of religion, as it were in this case –, humbled and ridiculed, the Bear and the Goat, invariably paired off in the oddest of matches in a huge area of diffu-sion that runs from romania to moldo-va, ukraine and Poland: a match, whose underlying logic can be perhaps revealed by etymology since the Bear in classical Greek is Arktos, whilst the hind quite obviously refers one directly to Artemi-dos, the ancient goddess of hunting: the sacred ancestral couple of some forlorn religion of the wild that has given way to the new creed in agriculture, represent-ed by the triumphant plough-cum-marriage ceremony, that has just passed by.

of this sacred pair, for present purposes, we will concentrate on the Bear alone. Generally speaking, from Palaeolithic art and burials (Augusta & Burian 1960: Plate 20; Fig. 8) to the Ainu (maraini 2001), from the sami folk beliefs to the Kalevala (Pentikäinen 1996), the specific status of the Bear in shamanhood can hardly be overestimated. the Bear, in fact, is seen in shamanism as a am-bivalent double of man, hilarious and unpredictably fierce at the same time, able not only to mimic man’s gait, but also to share his multifarious appetites and his capital sins. in this specific context, the mystery of lethargy, is seen as a po-tent representation of death and rebirth, and the bear, together with a very few other animals, is thought to be close to the secret of immortality (Pentikäinen 1996). this is certainly a good reason why most ancient cultures worldwide, from homer to the American indian, have recognized a Bear in the so-called 'Big

Fig. 7. The Bear can also be made of coils of straw, as a veritable Walking Sheaf. This example of Bear with his Gipsy Tamer is from Szymborze in Poland, 8th March 2011

102 Giovannni Kezich

Dipper': aptly, a constellation that turns round and round in eternity, seemingly never sinking under the line of the horizon.

in the general context of the early hunters’ explicit religious attitudes as to-wards the Bear, the appearance of Bears-made-of-straw, or straw-Bears (a big annual festival of the straw-Bear is still held in Whittlesey, Cambridgeshire at around mid-January), seems to be particularly significant. Doubtlessly, follow-ing Frazer, the straw-Bear comes into existence at a point in which it is neces-sary and/or desirable to represent harvesting as a chase or a hunt, the harvesters as beaters, trackers or hunters, and the harvest, incarnated in the last sheaf left standing in the field, as real animal game. the straw-Bear thus demonstrates the continuity of the imagery of hunting into the symbolic scenario of the early agriculturalists. An innocent mystification, probably cajoled at some stage in the shamanic sectors, carried out in the field of religious representations in order to persuade some dwindling pack of old hunters that the product of the harvest – despite the implicit frustrations of having to turn to a porridge diet – is really about as good as that of the hunt. With an extra bonus, of course: that whilst the real Bear, once dispatched, can be followed into the endless prairies of the other worlds by the shaman alone, and only with difficulty it can be put to some

Fig. 8. 'The Cult of the Bear', in Czech artist Zdeněk Burian’s celebrated vision of the Neanderthal controversial site of Drachenloch, in the Swiss Canton St. Gallen, excavated by Bächler & Nigg from 1917 to 1923


good practical usage, the sheaf-Bear has within itself the seeds of its own resur-rection, thus being able to stand up to the promise of eternal life that the real Bear was never able to fulfill.

the picture is now sufficiently clear to be summarized as follows. An old reli-gious ideology fed upon the psychic overflow of the practice of hunting wild ani-mals – and thus modeled around the quest for the animal spirits as mystic guides to the outer worlds – in the wake of the so-called neolithic revolution happens to be invested with the new changes in the mode of production. the actors stay the same – dead-men walking – but the ritual is transformed into a celebration of the mystic contents of the new technology of ploughing-sowing-harvesting as a practical way to prosperity, fertility and happiness: often, we may think, a dif-ficult notion to assimilate in the context of hunting-oriented cultures where the new habits may not necessarily have been conceived, for long periods of time, in terms of a viable impending progress. so a chorus of shaman-like figures, are now found engaged in the parading of the plough, whose act is explicitly equated to that of sex (Forni 2011), accompanied by the act of leaping, measuring the field, spreading around the ashes, sowing, and a number of other hints at the simplest and earliest basics of cereal agriculture, whilst the animal chief spirits of old – male and female, a classificatory Bear and a classificatory hind – have been relegated to the tail end of the cortege, that of the ridicule.

in parallel, some changes are occurring in the social structure of the ritual too. We already mentioned the collective, chorus-like nature of neolithic sha-manhood, as opposite to the solitary performance of the old shamans of the hunter-and-gatherers’ societies. so, once the magical act becomes socialized and shared among many, who is to partake? on this particular point, it will suffice to say that if the solo-shaman is most commonly an outcast of some sort, so are the members of the chorus, who are invariably part of categories severed off as ritually unclean as undergoing some kind of rite-de-passage in their coming of age. it has been Cesare Poppi’s (1993) fundamental contribution to point out that winter masqueraders of every persuasion – from the kukeri of thrace to the arlechini in the Alps to the joaldunak in the Pays Basque… – are invariably a com-pany of bachelors, who often can be identified with the levy of the boys that are currently coming of age, with the addition of some older males who for one reason or another have stayed unmarried. Allowing for the abrupt changes that have taken place in the last 50 years or so, that in some instances have opened the ranks of the masqueraders to married men, women and children – one has to point out that the rule – if openly transgressed in many cases – is still remem-bered by all and quite often still respected: only unmarried man can take part to the masquerade as masked actors. Why this rule should be so universal, is ob-viously a matter of speculation – even if Poppi’s answers as to this point are to


be found singularly perceptive. For present purposes, however, it will suffice to say that via the masquerade the youth becomes col-lectively engaged in a collective representa-tion of the dead, thus crossing the ranks of their fathers and grandfathers and putting themselves in a much higher ritual position, that of the ancestors. in doing this, a circular perception of the nature of society – as an ever-turning wheel of roles and ranks that fall rather aimlessly upon one generation af-ter the next – is achieved: an idea that ob-viously provides the newcomers with a new sense of confidence and authority. A parallel effect is that of pushing back into the past the social memory of the community, which slowly breaks away from the quasi-eternal present of the hunter-and-gatherer’s worlds, and inaugurates that sense of living under the gaze of the ancestors, which character-izes agrarian societies worldwide, with their conical hierarchies of dead people, project-ing into the world of the living (Friedman & rowlands 1977).

in parallel to these changes in the social context of the rituals, some things are changing too in the mythical horizon: quite significantly, the 'Big Dipper' asterism in the north sky is no longer a Bear, but it is now seen as a Wain or Wagon, which really is originally a Plough, since the original latin name of the wheeled-plough, i.e. plaumaratrum, in fact designated a chariot-plough, a wain-plough (Forni 1997): so that quite aptly, the old Great Bear of the Paleolithic north sky was turned into a Plough in the new age (Fig. 9).

in the end, we see that the whole ceremonial complex has been plied to the new ideology of agriculture. so, in the climax of the ritual action, sawdust is spread around in lieu of real seeds, the kukeri-shamans leap high in the air in order to emulate the shooting up of cereals (Frazer 1976: 402–403), the plough is forcibly driven into the village square by a party of masked classificatory oxen – bullocks, stots, bulls, vacies, zuessln: the septem-triones, the seven threshing oxen “perpetually wheeling about the pole star like oxen on a threshing floor” – and stains of lampblack sap are liberally smeared of the face of the onlook-ers, as a form of rudimental communion to the good wishes, which is in itself

Fig. 9. Alternative visions of the Big Dipper: as a Great Bear, in the Palaeolithic (above, from Hevelius’ Uranographia, Gdansk, 1690); and as a Plough, in the Neolithic (below, as in the flag of the 'Plough and Stars', Dublin, 1916).


the sign of the slash-and-burn pyro-culture that fostered in the incipient neolithic the domestication of cere-als proper (Forni 2011).

At this point, the load of our con-jecturing has probably mounted up towards too heavy a weight for most of us, a load which we could easily discard altogether, were it not for the fact that similar rituals of masks-cum-bells-cum-ploughs-cum-sow-ing-cum-marriage-cum-lampblack-cum-bear-cum-goat etc., are held to this day across huge distances in the continent of europe, with an aston-ishing degree of consistent similari-ties and homologies in the drama-tis personae, which always reads the same without significant new en-tries, in the specific shape of their attires and in the nouns and meta-phors by which they are designated, and also in the quality of their acts and in the specific, minute sequenc-ing of their performance.

so, we feel rather confident in positing that all the while shamanism from upper Paleolithic europe had already begun its long, slow, endless trail towards the great north-east, its branching in the Fertile Crescent and environs soon became vested with the specific mystique of the new society, one in which the endless cosmic cycle of deaths-and-rebirths could at once become real thanks to the powerful metaphors of cereal cultivation (Fig. 10). this was to become the cornerstone of the great agrarian religions of antiquity, shaped as they were upon the myth of the death and rebirth of a living god or goddess and ultimately, on the basic agrarian principle that, as John 12:24 has it “Very truly i tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds”.

soon, these rituals became the exclusive concerns of special priestly frater-nities, like the Arvales or the salii of ancient rome, or the Atiedian Brethren of iguvium, which become visible in their own merit towards the end of the Bronze age. later still, rounded up, marginalized and ridiculed by Christianity, the ritu-

Fig. 10. Harvest last sheafs put up as a straw-man for burning at the beginning of spring. In this case is a straw-woman, called the Hexe, the 'Old Woman' or 'Witch'. Laatsch in Vinschgau, Südtirol, 21st February 2010.


als of agrarian fertility were to seek shelter in the most convenient slot in the calendar, at the new Year, for example, in the orthodox world, or elsewhere half-way between Christmas and easter, where they set up a sort of ephemeral short anarchy of their own, which was sometimes, later still, to be known as 'Carnival'. But that’s very recent history, for the path from the neolithic to this day, as we all well know, is quite short.

All photos (except 1; 8; 9) are made by Antonella mott, © museo degli usi e Costumi della Gente trentina, 2014.

ReferencesAugusta, J. and Burian, Z. 1960. Prehistoric man. london: Paul hamlyn. Prehistoric man, Josef Augusta, Zdenek Burian, 1960, Paul hamlyn londonCoon, C. s.

1972. The hunting peoples. Johnatan Cape ltd.Forni, G. 1995. Gli aratri anauni nel contesto storico-antropologico delle Alpi. SM An-

nali di San Michele 8: 171–205.Forni, G. 1997. Gli aratri dell’Anaunia e del trentino. Dai dati archeologici a quelli et-

nografici. SM Annali di San Michele 9–10: 105–128.Forni, G. 2011. relitti paleoagricoli nei carnevali alpini. loro posizione nel quadro gen-

erale dell’evoluzione dell’agricoltura. SM Annali di San Michele 24: 97–146. Frazer, J. G. 1976. introduction. in J. G. Frazer Ovid, Fasti. Cambridge massachusetts

& london (loeb Classical library 253). Friedman, J. and rowlands, m. J. 1977. notes toward an epigenetic model of the evolu-

tion of civilization. in J. Friedman and m. J. rowlands (eds), The evolution of social systems, 201–278. london: Duckworth.

Grimble, A. 1952. strange interlude. in A. Grimble, A pattern of islands, ch. 6. london: John murray.

harner, m. J. 1980. The way of the shaman: A guide to power and healing. new York: harp-er and row Publishers.

hoppál, m. 2001. Cosmic symbolism in siberian shamanhood. in J. Pentikäinen (ed.) Shamanhood, symbolism and epic (Biblioteca shamanistica 9), 75–87. Budapest: Aka-démiai Kiadó.

hoppál, m. 2006. sámánok, kultúrák és kutatók az ezredfordulón. in m. hoppál, B. sza-thmári and A. takács (eds) Sámánok és kultúrák, 9–25. Budapest, Gondolat.

Kezich, G. 2010. Carnival King of europe: towards a new interpretation of european winter masquerades. in m. hoppál (ed.) Sustainable heritage, 162–168. Budapest: european Folklore institute.

Kezich, G. 2011. Karnawał Król europy. Próba nowej interpretacji europejskich maskarad zimowych. Etnografia Nowa 3: 244–251.

maraini, F. 2001. Gli ultimi pagani, appunti di viaggio di un etnologo poeta. milano, Bur. mishkova, i. 2011. masks and masquerades. A brief new interpretation. SM Annali di

San Michele 24: 401–418.


Pentikäinen, J. (ed.) 1996. Shamanism and Northern Ecology. Berlin, new York: mouton De Gruyter.

Poggianella, s. 2007. Kukeri rites and symbols in Bulgaria in a private collection. What is the possible relationship with shamanism? in K. Buday and m. hoppál (eds) Shaman-hood today: abstracts and selected paper: 8th Conference of the International Society for Shamanistic Research, June 1–6, 2007, Dobogoko, Hungary. Budapest: mtA néprajzi Kutatóintézet – magyar Vallástudományi társaság.

Popper, K. 1963. Conjectures and refutations. london : routledge.Poppi, C. 1993. the pilgrim’s progress and the logic of secrecy. in m. h. nooter (ed.),

Secrecy. African art that conceals and reveals. new York/munich: museum for African Art, Prestel.

radcliffe-Brown, A. r. 1929. A further note on Ambryn. Man 29: 50–53. Waddington, C. h. 1953. epigenetics and evolution. Symposia of the Society for Experi-

mental Biology 7: 186–199.



Pi-Chen Liu

From shamanic rituals to theatre and cultural industry: The state, shamanism and gender among the Kavalan (Taiwan)1

the research will explore the social context in which shamanic rituals have grad-ually evolved from the village level to the united ethnic group, becoming labels of particular ethnic groups and, finally, a kind of cultural industry promoted by state policy. Aside from social circumstances, in a small-scale society, what in-ternal definable social and cultural frameworks for debate concerning form and meaning take place? Why have the mystifying religious, ritualistic, and taboo characteristics of shamanic rituals, no longer persecuted by state authorities, been put on the stage of the national theater by aboriginal groups in the form of modern theater, and not in other artistic forms? these shamanic initiation or healing rituals have taken on new life, transforming from rituals that were a part of everyday village life to a performance genre that receives widespread attention – things for viewing and enjoyment by others (hymes 1975). this genre not only embodies and creates realities of daily life, but also the imagined reality of the stage. in other words, shamanic rituals are no longer only periodi-

1 this article partly was expanded from “From Kisaiz shamanic initiation to theatre Performance: Female shamans’ Power and negotiating ethnicity among the Kavalan.” in tai-li hu and Pi-chen liu (eds) Shamans and Ritual Performances of the Indigenous Peoples in Taiwan. taipei: institute of ethnology Press, Academia sinica. 505–555. (2010) 劉璧榛 2010.「從kisaiz成巫治病儀式到當代劇場展演：噶瑪蘭人的女性巫師權力與族群性協商」。刊於台灣原住民巫師與儀式展演，胡台麗、劉璧榛主編，505–555頁。台北：中央研究院民族學研究所。thanks to the taiwan national science Council for the support given to this research under the project “Gender, shamanhood and subjectivity: study of shamanism among the Kavalan and north Amis in Contemporary Contexts.” (nsC100–2628-h-001–010-mY2).

110 Pi-Chen Liu

cally social practices, they have broken with tradition to become realities exist-ing only in performance.

What kind of state changes led to such performances being further trans-formed into a creative industry, being continually duplicated, disseminated, and reproduced like a commercial product? Apart from the forms of the theatrical-ization having modern aesthetics meanings, what particular political and eco-nomic significance do they have? What kind of new social relationships have been produced in the process of this transformation? this research will also reconsider the relationship between gender and shamanic power in the course of this dynamic shift.

Female shamanism among the Kavalan For a long time, the northern peoples’ shamans traditionally regarded by schol-ars as the main subject of research and theory-making center; the author has attempted to go beyond this way of thinking by transferring fieldwork to tai-wan, islands characterized by the convergence between east and southeast Asia, as well as oceania and continental Asia. Because of its special geographical position, in its small 36,000 square kilometer area aboriginal societies that are patrilineal, matrilineal, bilateral, hunter-gatherer, and farming societies with chief/chiefs, big man or acephalous systems are encompassed. such complex diversity has hardly been thoroughly studies and even more seldom integrated into shaman research theory. the Kavalan live in the plains regions along the eastern coast of taiwan. they formerly had a matrilineal society but are now largely sinicized; numbering only 1,500 people, the group did not gain official recognition as an indigenous peo-ple until 2002. in the 17th century, upland rice, grown mainly by women, gradually supplanted deer pelts taken by men as the main item given to the Dutch coloniz-ers as tribute and used in external trade (nakamura 1997 [1953]: 111; Borao 1993: 98–120). rice farming, therefore, become the main activity by which the Kavalan made their livelihood as early as the 17th century.

A 1632 account by the spanish missionary Jacinto esquivel characterizes sha-manism in the region as being feminized (Borao 1993). if we take whether or not males or females can become shaman as a spectrum of gender constraints (that is, as reactive to power relations between genders), we find Kavalan soci-ety at one end of the spectrum: the duties of the mtiu (shaman), collective of-ferings to the first ancestors and rice goddess by holding kisaiz/pakelabi rites, divination (pasubli rites), and healing rituals (paspi) are all exclusively carried out by females.

in the 1920s, when shamanism thrived, there were over 30 mtiu (female shaman) in a Kavalan village of 300 people. the female-centric community or-

111From shamanic rituals to theatre and cultural industry...

ganizations formed by these shamans have rarely been seen among other eth-nic communities around the world. even in the societies of the tlingit people of the north Pacific and the neighboring Athapascans, which are also matrilineal, the position of shaman and the leading of shamanic rituals are the province of males (Guédon 2004).

scholars gradually began to take notice of the issue of the feminization of sha-mans in the 1980s. Balzer (1990) believes that it was the modernizing pressures of the soviet state that gave rise to the feminization of the shamans among the Khanty people in siberia. Also relating to issues of state politics, Kendall (1981) and Atkinson (1992) note that shamanic power in east Asia is often (in some cases almost always) in the hands of women, because in this region “shamanic authority was long ago displaced by state authority and where the label ‘spirit medium’ is often used in place of shaman for ritual healers...” (Atkinson 1992: 317) in comparison, feminization occurred much earlier in the shamanism of taiwan’s Kavalan aborigines, but did not occur due to the influence of state au-thority and policy. the Kavalan began having frequent contact with the han in the early 19th century, and by the end of the century, had almost entirely disap-peared due to sinicization, with only the village of Patorogan,2 relocated south to hualien County, continuing to have mtiu (shaman). the remote village of Pa-torogan, with which intermarriage with the neighboring Amis group occurred, did not fall under the control of Japanese colonial forces until the 1920s, when the people lost their sovereignty and became subject to assimilation. As a uni-fying political hegemon did not enter the region until relatively late, the villag-es existed as self-distinguished communities, with their variety of shamanism taking the village as an integrated unit. this research will, therefore, be able to better highlight the regionally diverse character of this female shamanism. As humphrey (1994: 191) reflects, the relationship between the shaman and the state is filled with interactions and variables, with different actions and reac-tions occurring even in local villages.

Colonial rule and Christianization: the decline of shamanism and gap of transmission As noted in the life stories of many of the shamans interviewed by the author, during the Japanese colonial period (1895–1945), the rulers banned public as-sembly because they worried that shamans would hold gatherings to publicly resist or challenge the authority of the colonial state. shamanism was, therefore, denigrated as a backward, superstitious old custom. in addition, children were

2 新社 (sinshe) in Chinese.

112 Pi-Chen Liu

required to attend public primary schools and were thus unable to be absent for long periods:

A Mtiu named Api has recalled being absent from school for one week to take part in the kisaiz initiation ritual, resulting in primary school teachers assigning them physical chores as punishment, as well as their parents being admonished.

All of these colonial policies made fewer young children aspire to become sha-mans, while also leading to the simplification of the kisaiz initiation rituals of the time. Furthermore, the confiscation of guns from villages and strict prohibition of hunting by the Japanese meant that male family members could no longer contribute venison, boar, or other meat obtained by hunting to these ceremonies as they had in the past. later, due to food shortages during World War ii, many parents were unable to provide the food needed to feed guests at feasts during the week-long kisaiz initiation ceremonial events during which sacrifices are of-fered to the spirits of shamans, the resulting reductions in scale and length fur-ther contributing to the decline of shamanic activities .

in the early 1950s, due to the taiwanese government’s (Kmt) politically align-ing itself with the Western to resist the Chinese Communist Party, taiwan opened itself to Christian missionaries who withdrew from China to come to taiwan. numerous missions entered remote indigenous villages in the hualien-taidong region to evangelize. Father André Bareigts of missions étrangères de Paris (the society of Foreign missions of Paris, or m.e.P.) recalls that the Kavalan people in the region were destitute and short of material resources at the time. And missionaries were only able to easily preach in these areas by distributing flour, milk powder, and other goods. in the beginning, missionary work was quite diffi-cult, and was widely met with rejection by local people. later, missionaries began preaching in the Kavalan language, and switched to a strategy of first convincing male leaders to convert. After more than a decade of effort, the number of new believers began to grow steadily. By the 1970s, Catholicism became the religion of the majority of people in Kavalan villages.

People in Patorogan village who converted at first continued to invite mtiu to their homes to do life cycle rituals or make offerings to ancestors. however, as the influence of Catholicism grew greater, they began to reject traditional beliefs and define them as Animism. As the Church holds that shamanism and the monothe-istic beliefs of Christianity are diametrically opposed to one another, converts no longer allowed their daughters to become shaman, nor did villagers openly take part in shaman-related ceremonies, rain-asking rituals, or healing rituals. result-ing in the complete termination of the kisaiz initiation rite after 1956, while pub-lic shamanic rituals pakelabi also became private. Just as Geertz (1973) states, not only did religious beliefs reflect conflicts and divisions in other aspects of society, but the squeezing out of Kavalan shamanism by Christianity became a key factor


in creating interpersonal tension in the village. such lingering interpersonal con-flict still continues today, and is frequently played out in daily life.

From shamanic rituals to theatrical performance: Negotiating ethnicity amidst the democratization of the statethe shamanism of the Kavalan people, subjected to control and persecution by state authorities for almost a century and rejected by Christian churches for half a century, had almost died out. however, since 1987, Kavalan shamanic initia-tion and healing rituals (kisaiz), after having been interrupted for 30 years, have miraculously reappeared on the modern political stage. Why and how did this happen? the current chief of Patorogan village recalls that, at that time, due to the effects of state ethnic integration policies, people in taiwan had no idea who the Kavalan were. many people who were Kavalan descendants themselves did not know, while some people may have intentionally hidden or not dared to openly acknowledge their ethnic identity. As one elderly interviewee explained:

Admitting you were Kavalan was equivalent to admitting that you were a ‘barbar-ian’.

in addition, in the early 1970s, political opposition movements began to take shape in taiwanese society, clashing with the authority of the state. Although this caused a gradual loosening and democratization of the political order, in the tense political atmosphere when the government announced the lifting of mar-tial law in 1987, many people still feared being seen as rebels “inciting ethnic separatism,” and shied away from approving of the name rectification move-ment. At the same time, the general public was largely alienated from ethnic issues at that time and, unlike mongolians and tibetans from China living in taiwan, taiwan’s indigenous ethnicities had not yet become identities with spe-cial constitutional protection.

in my interviews with numerous Kavalan, the first on-stage performance of the shamanic healing ritual (kisaiz) that had been lost for thirty years in 1987 was described by most as the beginning of the contemporary identity move-ment. the event was a song and dance gala organized by the national museum of history to celebrate the addition to its collection of a sarcophagus (now des-ignated as a cultural heritage) unearthed in Kavalan paddy fields in Patorogan village. this museum played a major role in imperialist education during the Japanese colonial period and today is a central symbol of state power. the invi-tation to perform gave members of the group a deep feeling of affirmation and encouragement. Although the celebration was organized by the government, the chief of Patorogan attempted to bring the village together in consensus regard-ing the performance, and worked independently to mobilize participation and

114 Pi-Chen Liu

planning. Among the many local groups that took part, in order to ensure that they could be clearly distinguished, as well as to attract more notice to avoid marginalization, lively discussions took place within the village. the focus is on how to clearly show “Who we are” in order to define themselves as an ethnic group and thus be distinguished from the nearby Amis people.

What, then was the significance of ‘performing’ for the Kavalan, a people who were in the process of forming their ethnic identity? What content most repre-sented their ethnic group? Within the group, what debates concerning form and meaning arose? most people thought that, while there were a number of taboos about the kisaiz shamanic initiation ritual, and it had ceased to be practiced for 30 years, given that the related pakelabi ritual was still held regularly each year3 there were, in fact many mtiu (shaman) who remained familiar with the songs and dances of the kisaiz, and it could, therefore, be taken to represent the ‘cultur-al traditions’ of the Kavalan. in addition, the shamanic ritual was also the most feasible to render as a stage performance, and was dramatic and performance-oriented. For instance, during the kisaiz, the mtiu falls unconscious (pahte) in a performance of ‘death’, climbs to the roof to sing and dance, and, finally, gives rice cakes (nuzun) to the audience. From the perspective of the Kavalan, these segments all had considerable dramatic tension, and were the areas of greatest distinction from the songs and dances of other ethnic groups. Another factor in the decision was that the male-oriented qataban headhunting ritual had ceased for much longer, approximately a century, with only one song and dance having been passed down to the present. not only would ‘reconstructing’ the ceremony present considerable difficulties, the content of the performance would also be comparatively bland.

the turning of the kisaiz shamanic initiation ritual into a modern theatri-cal performance by the people of Patorogan village opened up a dialogue with the state: through the script, songs, music and dance and theater being in line with the official cultural ideology. then, direct conflict with official ethnic in-tegration policies could be avoided. Consequently the group established a plane and action meaning for communicating with the government, an expression of culture and a kind of political opposition, these being its most important form meanings. these theatrical performances were not the only force or form in the name rectification movement, as a non-violent strategy, they were even more able to integrate and mobilize the people of the village. While actually involving various levels, they became a means of negotiation through which the Kavalan gradually removed the stigma of being labeled ‘savages’ in the process of nation-

3 since the death of the most senior mtiu Api in 2008, the annual shamans’ group ritual pakelabi has not been held because there is no one familiar enough with the ritual process and its songs.


al democratization. in addition to performing the kisaiz at their name rectifica-tion movement events in the capital taipei and ‘return to roots’ events in their hometown, Yilan, the ritual also continued to appear at the national theater, cultural centers, and cultural festival events held by the various departments of cultural affairs. the intention of these performances is clearly not to attract tourists. these opportunities to give public performances not only attracted media, scholars’ and government officials’ attention, it became an important mechanism for arousing public support. At the same time they also strength-ened the self-identity of Kavalan people scattered across taiwan resulting from a lack of shared experience. these chances helped as well to coalesce and shape a common imagination, consolidating group identity so that they could interact with the state to reconstruct themselves and negotiate their ethnicity under the new circumstances that came with state democratization. meanwhile, with the new Kavalan ethnic identity gradually taking shape, the group struggled with the government for ethnic equality and to become a new first nation, contrib-uting to gradual movement toward an intersubjective relationship between the state and marginalized ethnic groups (honneth, hans 1991).

the contemporary theatricalization of shamanic rituals has given them a new significance and ‘mission’. From rituals within a single village, they have slowly been broadened to the ethnic level, becoming the label of a specific ethnicity. they are not only the traditional cultural imagination of a new Kavalan identity, but also represent the ‘cultural traditions’ of their ancestors, rather than being only a religious belief. the process of rebuilding this value gave the Kavalan people a new political life. Why, however, did this occur only in contemporary theatrical forms and not a revitalization of village shamanism?

The distinction between the revival and theatrical perfomance of shamanism After the collapse of socialism in mongolia in the 1990s, shamanism, long dor-mant, experienced a sudden wave of popularity among the Buryat people in the country. Buyandelgeriyn (2007) noted that their shamans used rituals to lighten the burden of the many uncertainties that the people faced in contemporary society and established ethnic identity by using the past to explain the present. in the mid-1980s, radical nationalists in siberia believed that many ethnic ele-ments of local traditional indigenous cultures had been destroyed in the course of the globalization that had taken place in recent years. Blaming the decline of traditional beliefs for the loss of national culture, they claimed that the way to preserve and strengthen ethnic identity was to revive shamanism (Bulgakova 2008). in both of these examples we can see a close relationship between the

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construction of ethnic identity and the revival of shamanism,or, within a par-ticular political and economic context, shamanism being taken as a counter-power vis-à-vis state power or the central order, returning from the periphery to the center of power when these powers disintegrate (humphrey 1994: 194).

the example of the Kavalan is particular. the kisaiz shamanic initiation rit-ual was originally a fairly localized, village-level ceremony which, in a changing political and economic environment, became a ‘soft’ means for a marginalized ethnic group to take part in the process of state democratization. What is inter-esting, however, is that shamanic rituals have been revived as stage performanc-es, rather than through the conscious, large-scale reconstruction and revival of rituals in village daily life. there has been only a small-scale revival of shamanic beliefs in villages since the 1990s. two girls took part in the pakelabi shaman ritual and became shamans as replacement for the kisaiz. Also, some Christians began to hold the palilin (ancestor worship ritual) or consult the shaman to have their dreams interpreted or illness cured.

the usage of dramatic performance methods was both the subject and result of conflict and negotiation within the villages. in the 1960s, approximately 80% of Kavalan in the village converted to Christianity. these converts opposed the revival of shamanic rituals most vociferously, believing that, as they had come to believe in God and Jesus, they could no longer call upon the traditional dei-ties. Yet, they still harbored fears that these deities would ‘find them’ and ‘make them sick’. in other words, a paradox emerged, with the majority of Kavalan no longer believing in shamanism, yet still believing in the symbolic meanings of the original rituals and the effects that they had, and fearing that performing them would also produce real results. Another faction believed that “the songs of the kisaiz were the original songs used to summon deities and could not be chanted outside of ceremonies or without observing manmet” (restrictions on diet and be-havior). Furthermore, mtiu Api emphasized: “they could only be learned by those initiated as mtiu in a formal ritual.” “Shamanic songs were not to be sung by anybody who wished to.” to not adhere to these fundamental principles would be, this group believed, an act of insincerity and disrespect to one’s ancestors, which caused a number of people to fear that certain symbolic practices might produce effects such as illness, accidents, heavy rain, or a poor harvest. in particular, el-der shamans were terrified of performing alongside laypeople, fearing that they would become ill or that misfortune would befall the village.

Another faction of male elites, who led the name reclamation movement and many of whom were also church leaders, believed that “what was on display in modern theater was merely a ‘performance’! Like the acting in a television show, and that offerings were not really made (paspaw) in such performances, which were some-thing separate from genuine rituals. Appearing onstage was, therefore, only a per-


formance for an audience and, therefore, not problematic, nor would it produce any undesirable effects. Given the sense of crisis that existed about the disappearance of the ethnic group, in order to promote traditional Kavalan culture and gain recognition by the rest of society, they reasoned that it was for the greater common goal of the future of our people.” they thought that it should be acceptable to do away with the taboos involved with shamanic rituals and their mystifying religious nature and give them new significance by their performance. For the Kavalan, this ne-gotiated concept of “performance” was the intentional creation of an unreal life on stage, being neither a current ritual action nor a reality constructed by using symbolism. this example highlights how the insertion of the theatrical expe-rience and symbolism into rituals has profoundly shaped the Kavalan people’s particular social reality.

in order to avoid confusion and complications, the village chief engaged in negotiations with the mtiu (shaman) who has symbolic power, revising scripts and simplifying songs and dances, as well as separating performers’ true social identities from their identities as actors, in order to make the entire perfor-mance a kind of role-playing. Parts relating to symbolic practices were also re-moved, and actual ritual (spaw) was held first in order to notify the deities “in or-der to avoid bringing down disaster by confusing the deities.” this entire process, as a ‘performance’ as defined by Geertz (1973), was an act of creating a particular society’s collective text. As the Kavalan created this new text they specially dif-ferentiated between the definition of rite and theater, also ritualizing the theat-er, regarding the gods offered sacrifices in rituals (believing the gods really exist) and the act of offering sacrifice to the gods as belief and taking them into the theater and, at the same time, they still acknowledge the spiritual power of the mtiu (shaman). this is unlike the bringing in of different language or physical ex-periences emphasized in turner’s experimental theatre (1982) to try to change the modality of experience and to have better transcultural understanding.

A number of researchers have focused on analysis of shamans’ individual characteristics and trance or possession-related rituals, deeming such rituals to be a kind of performance on the basis that, in such rituals, the shaman will make use of a special setting, props (such as drums), offerings, song, music, ges-tures and movements to imitate or perform as the deity. therefore, these rituals are given the most important element of western drama – the playing of roles in a staged reality set apart from daily life, (stage-sacred vs daily life-profane). (haebarlin 1918; métraux 1955; eliade 1968). some researchers have even pos-ited that performances that were part of shamanic rituals (such as drumming, escape acts, or the use of props to drive away evil spirits) are not only the ori-gin of drama, circus acts, and popular entertainment, but can also be seen as a standard of aesthetics (Kirby 1974; hu 1998, 2003; Wang1989). researchers

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have viewed sacred rituals as theatrical stage performances, and thus developed ‘performance’ as an analytic concept (Kister 2004).

For the Kavalan, shamanism still survives in people’s daily lives, and has genuine symbolic efficacy in offstage life. the changes made in the modern the-atrical performances are a means to remove the sacred elements in order to maintain separation from real life. in addition, what is enacted onstage is an imagination of the past with a current political consciousness. through nego-tiations, the Kavalan have very clearly ‘historicized’ the kisaiz, viewing it in the past tense. Doing so has created an imagined theatrical reality, interpreting it as “the traditional culture of past ancestors” so that it is separate from the actual lives of participants who have converted to other religions. Although most mtiu are still alive and well, or even taking parts in stage performances, villages still routinely hold pakelabi rituals each year, showing that the shamanic songs and dances enacted onstage have not truly disappeared into history.

the trend of contemporary theatrical adaptations of shamanic rituals is the result of conscious negotiation by the Kavalan people. it is intended to provide audiences composed of ethnic Kavalan with an idealized image. Although the content of the performances includes and reflects conflicts in internal relations, and formal recognition is given to the value of shamanism and the mtiu amidst the changes of the new society, this value is not present in their daily lives. For instance, in performances, participants show dramatic approval of initiation and healing rituals and the mtiu (shaman), who, while onstage, receive affirmation from the entire ethnic group and other ethnic communities. only through them can the actual existence and authenticity of the ‘traditional life’ of the Kavalan be proven to others and the existence of the Kavalan rationalized so their name could be rectified. the Kavalan also respectfully refer to elder mtiu as national treasures, as if their true traditional culture will disappear without them. the mtiu have, however, been marginalized in actual village life. it is only in the context of this particular political performance, that is, only when attempting to shape ethnic identity, that they are accorded especially high value. the stage performances are a dressed-up ‘reality’ to be seen by others, with performances that highlight, exaggerate, and emphasize differences meant to evoke various feelings of wonder, sympathy, and approval from audiences of outsiders. At the same time, they can have the effects of bringing interaction with academia and drawing attention from the media and tourists, using state power or capital as defined by Bourdieu for self-affirmation and finding of their identity. this is a gradual process of destigmatization and decolonization, in which the Kavalan have reconstructed their subjectivity through the reinterpretation of cultural rituals and traditions.


Shaman’s new role and the expanded domain of her power in the interactive process of the change from tribal society to nationalized eth-nic group, have the female shamans who formerly possessed important power become relatively marginalized? how do they exert agency? the mtiu told me: “the experience of frequent performances has made us feel respected and affirmed and we have again become the focus of the attention of the people and the media.” in addition to representing other members of the group in making an offering to deities to inform them before a rehearsal or performance (rather than a group prayer), each performance can only be carried out with their agreement and as-sistance. if the mtiu do not agree to participate, the performance cannot pro-ceed smoothly, as other people do not know the songs and dances. As a result, in interactions with the state, elite male activists and church leaders must also depend on the views of the mtiu. the power of the mtiu’s opinion has returned from the margins of the village to the center.

in addition to serving as both directors and actors, the mtiu also create the scripts for performances, thinking about how to create a realistic effect onstage while also maintaining some distance from actual rituals. in this process of rec-reation, they gradually demystify and lift taboo from the kisaiz ritual songs and dances that only they know and can make, transforming them into shared eth-nic knowledge that can be taught to others. the mtiu are also invited to primary schools to teach songs, and have even combined the words of kisaiz songs with the tunes of songs once sung in the male-oriented qataban celebrations held af-ter headhunting in the past. they blended and rearranged them into new songs, allowing more people to chant them nowadays at the harvest Festival. Ac-cording to the explanation of a mtiu: “this gives people outside the ethnic group the opportunity to hear them, expanding the stage and audience for us.” they also hoped that the author, as an anthropologist, would be diligent in making recordings, and not just let men speak into the microphone that that not only men would be seen on television. in this way, they strove to become important representa-tive figures in the village and respected opinion leaders.

however, the performances led by mitu are scenes of the kind politically suppressed as “inherited superstitions and religion of the uncivilized psyche” (ino 1996 [1896–1899]: 236) during the Japanese colonial period. referring to them as ‘negative customs’, the nationalist government also repeatedly called for them to be improved for over 60 years. Yet to be able to perform these rit-uals, once stigmatized and saddled with ethnic prejudices against the ‘savage and backward’ and ‘barbarian’, at museums symbolizing state power, theaters symbolizing high culture, and universities symbolizing lofty status, and partic-ularly in a theatrical form accorded positive value, has, in addition, to causing the Kavalan to begin to positively affirm their own shamanic culture, also given

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the outside world a positive impression of ethnic culture. By gradually eroding outsiders’ erroneous beliefs about ‘savage and backward’ ethnic groups, and the kinds of negative and fearful imaginings of native ‘witches’ noted by taussing (1987), the construction of a new image of shamanic song and dance as tradi-tional culture has had a profound and lasting effect. these ‘negative customs’ took on new life in a new form and, in the context of a new political struggle, were gradually rationalized as ‘traditional culture’ and culture’ heritage with positive value. shamans, having originally played the role of religious leaders or healers, have now become ritual experts, national treasures unequalled in skill and knowledge. they control knowledge and the interpretation of the rich sym-bolism of these rituals, playing a decisive role in the transmission of traditional culture and knowledge.

New social relationships: cultural creative industrythe Kavalan name reclamation movement, which arose after the first shamanic theatrical performance in 1987, was also part of the indigenous name recla-mation movements that arose in 1983. in 1994, after these movements had persisted for over a decade, the constitution was first amended to use the word ‘aborigines’ (原住民) in place of ‘mountain compatriots’ (山胞) to respect the fact that the indigenous people were ethnic communities with different cultures. then, in 1997, a clause was added to the constitution, which explicitly stipulated that the state has to “…actively preserve and foster the development of aborigi-nal languages and culture.” the raising of aboriginals’ status as a special ethnic group to the constitutional level was also reflected by internal adjustments to the organization of the government. in 1996, the Council of indigenous Peoples was established under the executive Yuan, and receives 0.4% of the national an-nual budget.

Because most of the Kavalan people of Patorogan village lived in lowland administrative regions during the Japanese colonial era and were, therefore, recognized as lowland aborigines, the Kavalan’s winning of recognition as a dis-tinct nation actually had no concrete effect on their lives, in terms of work, land, and residence rights, for example. the substantive change in 2002 was that they became an independent unit to which resources could be allocated in the imple-mentation of policies, which the Kavalan imagined would allow them to have more resources to resolve the looming crisis of the continuation of their ethnic group, and avoid being marginalized. in addition, in terms of symbolic signifi-cance to the new democratized state, as the President said in a personal visit to their village, it was “expected to make space for respecting the value of diversity in Taiwan” (lin 2003: 322). With the ‘establishment’ of the Kavalan, the ethnic group became an important new symbol of a multicultural country.


in the last few years, under the new relationship established with the state, shamanic rituals gradually became a cultural industry under state policies to promote their ethnic group. the kisaiz went from being collectively performed by Kavalan at the national theater to being taught to performers at the taiwan indigenous Peoples Culture Park, where it is recreated in the performance “the Priestess on the rooftop.”4 elder mtiu began training a group of young, non-Kav-alan professional dancers to give regular performances for tourists and commer-cial promotion. over the course of these transformations, we can see how, under the impact of globalization, through cultural policies the state has again rede-fined the songs and dances of shamanic rituals in the new relationships. they have developed them into flexible ‘economies of signs’ (lash and urry 1994) so that cultural tourism can revive villages that have declined with the impact of globalization and industrialization from 1990s, and create employment oppor-tunities to resolve the social crises that have come with globalization. this kind of government cultural, economic and political policy response has not really stopped the outflow of population and revived Kavalan shamanism in the local village. however, in this process of interaction, shamanism has stripped away the stigma and become a symbol of national multiculturalism.

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Bulgakova, t. 2008. revival of Christianity and shamanism among the indigenous peo-ples of siberia. in o. lardinois and B. Vermander (eds) Shamanism and Christianity: Religious encounters among indigenous peoples of East Asia, 145–162. taipei: taipei ricci institute.

Buyandelgeriyn, m. 2007. Dealing with uncertainty: shamans, marginal capitalism, and the remaking of history. American Ethnology 34(1): 127–147.

eliade, m. 1968. Le chamanisme et les techniques archaïques de l’extase. Paris: Payot.Geertz, C. 1973. The interpretation of cultures: Selected essays. new York: Basic Books.Guédon, m.-F. 2005. Le rêve et la forêt: Histoires de chamanes nabesna. Québec: Presses

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4 the Kavalan believe that the Chinese name for shaman (巫師wushi) has been stigmatized for a long time and have replaced it with “祭司priestess.”

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honneth, A. and Joas h. 1991. Communicative action: Essays on Jürgen Habermas’s the theory of communicative action. transl. J. Gaines and D. l. Jones. Cambridge, mass.: mit Press.

humphrey, C. 1994. shamanic practices and the state in northern Asia: Views from the center and periphery. in n. thomas and C. humphrey (eds) Shamanism, history, and the state, 191–228. Ann Arbor: university of michigan Press.

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Eva Jane Neumann Fridman

Mongolian shamanism envisaged, embodied

mongolian shamanism has to be envisaged in its natural environment, arising from the spirits of the landscape, the waters, the blue sky. embodied images from early centuries – Bronze Age – early iron Age – petroglyphs drawn from the natural surroundings, the fauna that appeared in the forests and grassy plains of the land since millennia, already brought forth the connection between na-ture and shamanistic practices, a connection that has been vital and unabated up to the present. this paper will present these various embodiments of sha-manism within the natural environment from the ancient presence of rock im-ages to the current somewhat diverse expressions of imagery on the costumes of mongolian shamans, taken from research done in the northern mongolian province of hövsgöl where Darhad and tsaatan shamans live and the eastern provinces, mostly inhabited by Buryat shamans. shamanism has also become a subject for painters and other visual artists in mongolia, probably partly due to the tradition of Buddhist thangka painting that depict Buddhist deities, now adapted for the depiction of shamans, a depiction made all the more difficult due to the high importance of dynamic motion during the shaman’s ritual – all the more remarkable when the painter succeeds in capturing the essence of the shaman in trance and movement. in these selected glimpses of how the ele-ments of shamanism and shamans themselves are embellished and embodied, we can see how mongolian shamanism has been expressed throughout millen-nia in diverse artistic forms.

in order to discuss the relationship between art and shamanism, we need to reflect upon how these elements of material or natural wonder have led, in other cultures and times, to connections with the divine and a sense of transcendence into an other spiritual realm. sugar, the abbot of saint–Denis, is quoted in mar-tin (2011: 17) as follows:

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“thus, when – out of my delight in the beauty of the house of God – the love-liness of the many-colored gems has called me away from external cares, and worthy meditation has induced me to reflect, transferring that which is material to that which is immaterial, on the diversity of the sacred virtues: then it seems to me that i see myself dwelling, as it were, in some strange region of the uni-verse which neither exists entirely in the slime of the earth nor entirely in the purity of heaven; and that, by the grace of God, i can be transported from this inferior to that higher world in an analogical manner. “

the relics of the saints, collected and sacrilized within the confines of this dwelling of God, the medieval church, became thus a bridge between heaven and earth, “enabling them to be called upon to intercede on behalf of the devout; pro-tecting them in their travels and curing them of their ailments.” (martin 2011: 17). if this reads like descriptions of the powers of shamans, it is because many concepts of, and pathways towards, the spiritual are universal for all human be-ings. it is just in the specific cultural and ethnic details we find differences in ex-pression. martin notes that the liturgical practices associated with various beauti-fully ornate reliquaries, altarpieces and so on brought about a sense of wonder in the worshipper from this elaborate visual assemblage of sacredness. in the medi-eval church, therefore, this total display and aesthetic ordering of all these richly ornamented objects as well as the beauty of the architecture of the church itself all have one goal in mind: the communion with the sacred (martin 2011: 18).

the beauty and the aesthetic delight of the 12th century objects of the ab-bey of saint-Denis was fully realized due to their power to uplift the viewer into another realm, “communion with the invisible and sacred light of God or the luminosity of his martyred saints….an ecstatic transfiguration that literally lifted the subject out of the earthly realm” (martin 2011: 19). here we see the same impulse towards realization of a connection with the spirits shamanism aspires to and achieved in a similar manner, through an ecstatic transfiguration (or what we would describe as an altered state of consciousness). the medium in common to both is an uplift of the spirit through a contemplation of beauty and aesthetics leading to a spiritual connection, indeed a state of ecstasy and an internal transformation.

in mongolia, the landscape itself, in its vastness and physical beauty, is sa-cred to the mongolians. the concept of the blue heaven or Blue sky is central to mongolian shamanist belief. mongolian shamans believe that there are six Great Kings who rule the universe; the major one is the lord of heaven, and the other five are lords of the earth – Haan, lord of human beings, Lus (waters), and lords of wild animals, birds, and reptiles (Purev 2008: 96). in the late 14th century historic document, The Secret History of the Mongols, there are about forty refer-ences to heaven, ten of which show the inseparable relationship between earth

125Mongolian shamanism envisaged, embodied

and heaven (Purev 2008: 97). these are, thus, the main ele-ments that lead into and form the basis of the shamanic experi-ence in mongolia: the landscape, the ani-mals, and the humans as small elements in a vast landscape.

in (outer) mongolia as of 2010, there were 3 million people and 42 million of the “five snouts” – horses, cattle, sheep, goats, and camels –the people vastly outnum-bered by the animals. the population density is one of the lowest in the world, at 4.7 persons per square mile (robinson 2010: 116). the human scale is so small against spaces of the landscape that shamans are needed to connect with the spirits so that the human voice will be heard in the vastness. Flying from ulaanbaatar to ulangom, the view is of a dry country like a desert, with many small areas salt-encrusted. Compared to european or American landscapes, this was an empty steppe but on the ground one could see that it was filled with color and life and an abundant closeness to nature. the mountains were glowing in shades of red and purple, the sky arching overhead. there were few trees, mostly sparse groups of pines clustered on the northern slopes of the mountains. A few hawks and an albatross circled in the air. Brown ducks floated in the salt lake.

Early imagesthis seemingly sparsely inhabited land was also replete with the presence of the past. spiritual and even shamanic connections abounded. Deer stone mon-uments, dating back to the Bronze Age and earlier, are found in abundance in this part of western mongolia. these are carved stones, varying in size from 50 cm. to 2.5 meter heights, standing upright. they are named for the deer carved into the stelae, circling around the sides. many of the deer depicted are reindeer, identifiable by their branched antlers. however, it has been suggested that the ancient stone carvers depicted a more magical animal, one with the body and antlers of the siberian red deer but with the head of a bird, ending in a bulbous-type bill, similar to that of a pelican (robinson 2010: 396–397). Discoveries

Fig. 1. Mongolian Landscape


by the russian archaeologist rudenko in the siberian Altai mountain Pazyryk burial sites showed reindeer tattooed on bodies with elaborately branched ant-lers like feathers and on some of the reindeer the individual tines of the antlers terminate in a tiny bird head (Vitebsky 2005: 9). this imagery of flight found in connection with burials would indicate that these magical, shamanic animals were placed there to provide a connection, an easy flight for the deceased per-son to the land of spirits above. A tall deer stone from Khuvsgul aimak (prov-ince) shows a large sun above the carved relief deer, indicating their flight to the sun and the lofty spiritual realms (Catalog, national museum of mongolia 2010: 23). Bird imagery and headdresses with antlers figure prominently in the costumes of mongolian shamans, as well as in those of shamans in southern si-beria. Kurgans, also known as Khirgisuur, large square or circular shaped burial mounds dating from the late turkic period (6th–8th century AD) and the earlier Bronze Age period (700–300 BCe) proliferate over the countryside. Variations of burial sites are in evidence – from somewhat earlier periods, stones were laid in a circle around an inner circle, in later times a square outline of stones was drawn around the circle of stones. next to these demarcations stand or lie a ro-bust carved stone figure of a man, about three feet tall, complete with beard and moustache, often even depicted with a carved earring in his ear. hands with fin-gers were carved, holding an object shaped like a vase. one of these sculptures had a stone topknot and was holding two knives, somewhat unusual since most of these figures hold only one knife, suggesting that this particular burial was of a more important person.

in this Altai mountain region of uvs aimak, near mt. Beiram, there was a saka culture site, dating to approximately 400 BCe, that had a number of kurgans. however, the main attraction of the site were the Bronze Age-early iron Age petroglyphs, images drawn from the natural surroundings, the fauna that ap-peared in the forests and grassy plains of the land since millennia. Deer with huge backwards branching antlers, a whole menagerie of reindeer, rams with curved horns, horses, a cow, a magnificent steed with a strong curved neck, horses with riders perched on their backs – all were depicted, etched into stone. in the book Monuments of Mongolian History and Culture, an enormous and inclu-sive survey and reference guide done by the mongolian Academy of humanities, covering historical and cultural monuments in mongolia from earliest prehis-toric times until the present, there are seventy-two sites mapped of petroglyphs illustrated with photographs. Viewing the map (Monuments of Mongolian History and Culture 1999:26) it can be seen there is a concentration of petroglyph sites in the Altai mountain areas, in uvs province. two of the sites show very similar animals, also presented in stylistically similar groupings. the site of naran Bu-lagiin (#34 on the map, MMHC 1999: 46) has petroglyphs of reindeer with large


Fig. 2. Statue of man, (6th–7th century, Turkic period)

Fig. 3. Petroglyph of fauna, (Bronze Age, Saka site, Uvs)

Fig. 5. Deer petroglyph, Saka site, Uvs

Fig. 4. Shaman petroglyph, Saka site, Uvs Rituals of Initiation


backward branching antlers, some rams with highly stylized spiral curved horns, and an animal that looks like a wolf among the other fauna. these animals are arranged in groupings that show movement and connection between them, much as one would observe animals roaming free range in mongolia nowadays. the scenes could be a depiction of present-day animal husbandry practices in mongolia. Anywhere one goes in the countryside in mongolia, one sees huge groups of animals roaming absolutely free-range, choosing and selecting where and when they will go to a new spot to graze.

in reviewing the whole corpus of researched petroglyphs throughout mongo-lia, it is noticeable that there is a great similarity of subject matter and compo-sition from one location to another. the petroglyphs i saw were simply a typi-cal representation of animals that were significant to nomadic peoples and still are. in fact, one is struck by how little has changed over the millennia. Jeannine Davis Kimball (Warrior Women 2002: 80–83) was amazed by the petroglyphs at tamgaly, a site in southern Kazakstan, on the northern side of the Altai moun-tains. she noted their abundance, variety and “the way they revealed an intimacy with nature”. At tamalgaly (Bronze Age and early iron Age) there were also im-ages of a sun god riding on the back of a horse, and a figure possibly a shaman who is seen inseminating a horned, masked horse (Davis-Kimball 2002: 83). the connection between nature and the spiritual practice of shamanism is an old em-bedded underlying philosophy that has deep roots in the eurasian cultural plain.

Amidst the many images of animals – deer, cattle, horses – that were depicted at the saka site in uvs, there was a shaman – clearly a typical mongolian shaman, standing upright, holding a drum in his outstretched arms, feathered headdress on his head. he is charming, singing, and magically enacting his power over a young deer. other deer are etched into the rock in front of him but they are more scattered whereas the young deer (minimal horns) seems to be completely under his spell. i, too, was spellbound to see this ancient image so beautifully rendered on the rock. Present day shamans look the same. it was a vivid re-minder of how art can show us the continuities with the past and that the same impulses towards a spiritual connection have continued to exist over time.

Rituals of initiation For mongolian and Buryat shamans themselves, great value and care is lavished upon artistic presentation of themselves and of all aspects of their rituals. this is seen in a most striking form in initiation rituals, which are orchestrated in precise detail with respect to costume – color, material used, attached objects – placement of drink and white food for the spirits, and location in nature, as well as integration of aspects of nature into the ceremony itself. the artistry of

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Fig. 6. Line with shaman

accouterments, initiation ceremony, Lake Baikal, 1996

Fig. 7. Tseren Zaarin, shaman

Initiation ceremony, Lake Baikal, 1996

Fig. 8. Tseren Zaarin in his temple

as lama, Dornod province 2002

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Fig. 9. Initiation at Tseren Zaarin’s homestead, Dornod province, 2002

Fig. 10. Nest with eggs, Initiation ceremony. Dornod, 2002

Fig. 11. Shaman initiate, Initiation ceremony, Dornod, 2002


the whole production is intended to convey a spiritual message and to create an ambiance of sacredness through color, movement and accompanying prayers, chants and song.

on saturday, June 22, 1996, i was present at such an initiation ceremony at lake Baikal in Buryatia. Around five in the afternoon, the shamans who had been gathered from mongolia and Buryatia for a conference on shamanism be-gan to prepare for an initiation ceremony. this ceremony was being held by sha-man tseren-Zaarin, a famous and well-established shaman from Dornod prov-ince, mongolia for two other mongolian shamans of lesser degree, Bair-boo and Bazar-boo (boo means shaman). it was midsummer, the sun at this hour was still high in the sky. We were informally lined up in two lines perpendicular to the shore, up on the meadow, near small woods.

two poles with a line stretched between them had been erected in front of the trees. A young scholar from mongolia was hanging shaman garments, a mask, headgear, long strips of silken multi-color cloth with heavy iron bars, chains, iron circles from which bells or keys hung, a miniature iron ladder, and the metal silhouette of a cow. shamans dressed in typical Buryat-mongolian garb, with mongolian-style side closure silk robes and pointed hats of red or blue silk with black velvet brim, were laying out bottles of vodka, a milky drink and other liquid refreshments for the ceremony as well as dishes of candies on a small table in front of the line of display. the food and drink was a presenta-tion for the spirits so that they would bring their blessings to the initiation but for them to be pleased, the food and drink needed to be white – a color signifi-cant for the spiritual connection.

tseren-Zaarin was helped into his heavy robe, covered with bells, keys, and chains and bars of iron reaching around his sides like ribs. his assistants tied his large horned headdress onto an iron ring on his robe, and then placed on his head a cap with its attached fringe (the face covering). his horned headdress was pulled up on his head, and holding the mask of a spirit-face in his hand he prayed over it in front of his oval drum, then put it over his face and began to drum, chant, and dance. the total spectacle of color, movement and sound, in the open air of nature, on the shores of lake Baikal, conveyed a powerful spir-itual message.

tseren-Zaarin’s costume weighed about 75 kilograms due to the heavy iron ornaments hung upon it. his cap (covered by the large horned headdress) had two eyes made of cloth appliquéd to the front of the cap; these eyes symbolize the eyes of the shaman’s helping spirit who can assist the shaman to see and remember ritual. the thirteen horns or antlers of the headdress looked like lit-tle branches of antlers and functioned as antennae for contact with spirits and the cosmos. the horn-like shapes on the shoulders of the garment represent


powerful ongons (representations of spirits). the mask is Olgaldai, a powerful spirit. tseren-Zaarin’s ongons are spirits of his own ancestors. shamans pray to nature, mountains, heaven, and water ancestors; the spirits and the energy of the cosmos enter into the shaman through the horned antennae.

Artistic and spiritual effect aside, this was a moment of great political import. it was the first time Buryat shamans from Buryatia and mongolia, had been able to come together – certainly not since the russian revolution and the total sup-pression of shamanism – and never had there been a meeting and connection between Buryat and mongolian shamans with joint rituals and prayers in such an open, natural and sacred setting.

several years later in 2002, i was privileged to visit with tseren-Zaarin at his homestead in Bayan-uul, Dornod province, mongolia. it was August and he was holding daily on-going initiations of young shamans; in that summer of 2002, between June and the 19th of August, tseren-Zaarin conducted 60 initiations.(this is a huge number when we consider that a shaman initiation has tradi-tionally been undertaken only when the call of the spirits became so unbearable that the shaman had no other alternative). tseren-Zaarin was unusual in that he was also a lama, having built his own beautiful little temple, painted with bright yellow on the outside and filled with color on the inside – multi-colored appli-quéd thangkas, brightly painted poles, a blue ceiling with black demons gesticu-lating. Dressed in a dark blue mongolian robe, he was blowing on a conch shell and beating an enormous red and green drum, decorated with golden designs. For tseren-Zaarin, as for many other shamans, the artistic embellishments of their environments are an extension of their own shaman garments, headdress, masks, that help them create a sense of a sacred space in which communication with the spiritual world can be attained.

Buryat shaman initiation rituals have a very specific physical construction, as well as a well-defined ritual procedure. the place where the ritual occurs is called derbelge and the aspects seen during the ritual are constructed to symbol-ize a rebirth of the shaman at each of his or her initiations. the eighty-one or twenty-seven or sixty-three birch trees xuhu are erected for each initiation and provide the frame or locale for that initiation; they are removed after the initia-tion is completed the following morning. in addition to the birch grove there are nine birch trees near the ritual tent for the spirits who have descended. these nine birch trees are associated with the nine sky children who participate in the ritual from beginning to end; for an udgan (female shaman) there are five girls and four boys, for a zaarin (male shaman) there are five boys and four girls. Preparations of the birch trees include tying blue and white ribbons on each tree, and constructing three nests made of gray sheep’s wool, with three eggs made from flour inside each. the nests were placed under the tree, together


with three little candles made from flour and butter. Banners hung on the trees showed drawings of animals such as wild fox and mink, also the sun, moon and the nine sky children.

the garments shaman initiates wear are quite remarkable for their multi-colored bands, headdresses with embroidered faces, topped with feathers and, often boots embroidered with eyes. shamanism is best seen in action and the sight and sound of a young shaman initiate running around a grove of birch trees late at night, all the nine sky children following her, her garments fly-ing, beating her drum, her face covered with fringe and her ultimate ascent up a birch tree with the crowd pushing and jostling her is a total artistic as well as spiritual performance, intended to create awe in the spectator and bring the young initiate into a state of trance.

Nature and self-embodimentthe shaman’s way of reaching a more spiritual state and achieving communion with the spirits is accomplished not only through trance, or an altered state of consciousness, but also, as noted in initiation rituals, through beautification of nature. Pine or larch trees in the siberian taiga or on mongolian plains are fes-tooned with banners and streamers from all manner of fabrics and material, all carrying a prayer, an entreaty to the spirits. the tree is encased in a garment of prayer strips, much as the cloak of a shaman is. examples of shaman cloaks abound from all ethnic groups, each somewhat different and carrying meaning of identification as well as protection.

on a long road in the eastern mongolian province of Dornod, i came across Dedushka Gavril, belonging to the sharaid clan. he said their genesis was from a human swan and a birch tree. he was taught to shamanize by his father who was a Zaarin. they had 10 generations of boos in their family. he had four pu-pils studying with him. he had made his own shaman robe, of antelope skin; it was overlaid with streamers of all colors. Cords with red fabric tabs were strung around his robe. metal keys were kept under the robe for his protection, but vis-ible were horns of his headdress, wrapped with a blue hadak (sacred to the Blue sky spirit) and eyes on his headdress cap. Part of the skeleton of a human body, the metal ribs, could be seen attached to his antelope skin robe. there were flat metal cutouts of seven wild pigs, and a horse. shaped human foot and hand metal pieces were fastened on either side of his robe, on the whole a remark-able assemblage, all hand-crafted by Dedushka Gavril himself. in a photograph of Dedushka Gavril, in his full regalia, we can see the lowering blue sky with gray clouds, a horse tethered to a pole and the endless plain. Dedushka Gavril said


the native source of the shaman is nature and we should protect and sacrilize all forests and nature so that we can protect and make a better life for people.

in the northern part of hövsgöl province, to the west of the sparkling blue waters of hövsgöl lake, surrounded by grazing yaks, is the town of tsaagan nuur (White lake) in Darhad valley. nadmid was one of the famous old Darhad shamans from the red huular clan, who have been shamanizing for generations in the tsaagan nuur area, a land of wild taiga and rocky mountains, snowcapped all summer, close on the border to tuva in russia. she came from four shaman lineages; her paternal grandfather was a very powerful shaman from the second generation of the flying red (a lineage of shamans who can fly). impelled by an illness, she started to shamanize and wear shaman’s clothes at age 14 in 1943. she shamanized for four years and then hid her clothes in a secret place. starting in 1995 at the age of 66, nadmid began to shamanize again, using a second set of clothes since her first set had been stolen. her drum was made of female wild antelope and her baton from male wild sheep tail. her shaman robe was lined with male antelope fur, with a patch of wildcat fur on the back of her outfit, as well as various metal objects. such metal pendants, as noted with the other sha-mans, are protective of the shaman when she is vulnerable in her altered state of consciousness and may represent spirit helpers, power animals, and spiritual weapons against evil forces. her boots are of wild antelope and her headdress has tall eagle feathers with a face embroidered on the front band (also noted on Dedushka Gavril’s headband), the aspects of the face representing various sens-es of spirits coming into her as she shamanizes. most striking, however, from an artistic point of view is the shaman in motion, numerous bands in various shades of blue swinging about her robe as she drums, sings and turns, dancing as the spirit moves within her.

the strong nature of the spirits and the passionate, completely absorbed al-tered state of consciousness as the shaman rides on her drum to meet her spir-its was exemplified by suen, a 94 year old tsaatan shaman, a reindeer herder. she lives in the taiga near tsaatan nuur, over ranges of mountains, moving her tent and 100 strong reindeer herd from lichen to lichen grazing area, often twice monthly. suen belongs to one of the ten tsaatan clans – 260 people in total – who live in this area of mongolia. A larger group of tsaatan people live in tuva (russian republic), but (as of 1999) all contact between them and their mongo-lian kin had been lost since the russian revolution, although the border is only 80 km. distant. the people have developed a lifeway that is a very specialized adaptation to a marginal environment, based on a nomadic cycle of frequent bi-weekly or monthly changes of locale to provide the reindeer herds with sufficient foraging materials. this adaptation is reflected in the type of dwelling – a tent put together with poles, canvas and reindeer skin coverings, easy to deconstruct.

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Fig. 12. Shaman tree Fig. 13. Dedushka Gavril, Dornod province, 2000

Fig. 14. Dedushka Gavril, Dornod province, 2000

Fig. 15. Nadmid, Hövsgöl province, 1999

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Fig. 16. Nadmid, Hövsgöl province, 1999Fig. 17. Suen, Hövsgöl province, 1999

Fig. 18. Suen, Hövsgöl province, 1999


there is a paucity of furniture in the tent, with skins and rolled-up bags used for floor coverings and beds. in suen’s tent, a stove and a wooden chest (for storing shaman clothes) were the only items of furniture. Above the chest was a curtain behind which she had a row of ongon (dwellings for her spirits) bands hanging.

this simple environment, streamlined for maximum efficiency, is belied by the color and artistic drama of suen’s shaman garments. in preparation for con-ducting a shaman ritual at about 11 p.m. at night, she was dressed in her robe of reindeer skin, fur side inside, which was covered with metal bells, snakes and an avalanche of embroidered cloth bands, signifying parts of the body – the spine and its muscles, leg muscles, and ribs. eagle feathers were on the shoulders of the robe and metal protective plaques, as well as protective metal arrows and knife blades were attached to the reindeer skin. her mother also made her drum which was two and a half feet in diameter, decorated with ribbons and covered with the skin of wild white antelope. she said, as had many other shamans, that during the times of repression, shamans’ clothes and drums were burned. she had put her clothes and drum in a safe place and thus saved them from de-struction at the hands of the authorities. (moreover, since they were living in the taiga so far removed from state power, there was not so much repression).

the point here is that the actual appearance of the shaman garments, the power that they themselves contained, was understood by the authorities as pre-senting something threatening and dangerous and hence had to be destroyed. seeing suen shamanize in the middle of the night, at age 94, powerfully turning and twisting, with her multicolored bands flying as she went on her journey to the spirits to meet them halfway- she meets them “in the middle” – one can un-derstand how this power is translated through movement and aesthetics into an amazing spiritual force. After she shamanized, the two dogs tied outside started to bark. the men, guns in hand rushed out into the wilderness. limited by the weak beams of their old russian flashlights, they shot into the night. “A wolf”, they said, using my American flashlight to illuminate the darkness in sweeping arcs of light. Cold stars twinkled overhead. the wolf was gone.

Shamans – artists of their own environments As noted, shamans find it most important to create their own environments in order to not only develop the right atmosphere to impress their audience with the sacredness of the occasion, but also to feel that they are in a special place themselves. the front of the ger is selected and the ongons are brought out from their closeted space so that they may be present at the ritual. the impression of these objects is therefore significant. During our journey to hövsgöl province, we came upon tsedenpil, a shaman who is a member of the hotgoid tribe. she


was encamped on the rolling steppe of the southwest corner of hövsgöl, a land where white gers are interspersed among the hills, which are dotted with sheep and other livestock, including the occasional group of camels. tsedenpil, at the time age 82, said she doesn’t shamanize anymore. in fact, she has not put on shaman clothes or practiced as a shaman since 1945 when she became so fright-ened of repression that she burned her drum and shaman outfit, which had al-ready been hidden by her brother. this flatter, more accessible area of hövsgöl created the situation during the socialist period that shaman practitioners felt the weight of the regime and their practice was severely curtailed; there were many male zaarins in this area and they were repressed. tsedenpil comes from both lama and shaman lineage, not unusual for people in tuva or mongolia. she described her shaman garb to us, but the most striking evidence of her iden-tification as a shaman was an incredible array of shaman ongons, not bands or parts of animals, but a row of thirteen ongons, spirits in the form of people with a crown (of feathers?) on their head. Directly below these ongons was an altar of Buddhist artifacts – vajra bell, three-pointed vajra, and images of various Bud-dhist deities, the total assemblage creating a highly symbolic, if somewhat con-fusing, artistic effect.

Fig. 19. Ongons, Tsedenpil, Hövsgöl province, 1999


Shaman as artistKhuurak Kirgis Khavendaevich, a tuvan shaman, provided the most brilliant exemplar of a shaman who created, embellished and glorified his environment. About 100 km. west of Kyzyl, the capitol of tuva, the town of shagonar appears on the flat endless steppe. in a rather unprepossessing apartment building, we entered in Khuurak’s home and office, glowing with painted imagery on every wall, filled to every corner with tuvinian designs and imagery. the floor of his office was a brilliant dark brown, painted with beautifully stenciled designs of circles, Greek frets, birds marching in rows, branches and leaves. the walls had Greek fret designs in blue and red on gold; the edge of the doorway was pointed in gold. the designs continued out into the hallway in a riot of colors and delight in pattern. Above the doorway hung the mask of a Buddhist god with a green face and red eyes and mouth, from whose lower chin strips of fabric with at-tached black bird feathers and claws hung. each door of the apartment had blue

Fig. 20. Khuurak Kirgis

Khavendaevich, Tuva, 1996

Fig. 21. Khavendaevich bird painting, Tuva, 1996


stencils of a floral design. in the hallway a huge painting of an enormous red bird, cypress trees, and a type of large white dove, with a red sun in the upper left corner, held sway on the upper wall. on the opposite wall, a smaller pic-ture of three galloping horses in brown, red and white as well as a garden scene were perched above a wainscoting of a red and yellow fret design, which was above a band of blue triangular shapes with curled feet on a grey background. even the ceiling held attention with a lotus-shaped design in green around the base of the hanging lamp, centered among other geometric designs in green of intricate knots and interlaced lines. the lamp itself was not spared decorative treatment, embellished with a pale pink silk shade with golden metallic-like pet-

Fig. 22. Khavendaevich, floor of his office, Tuva, 1996

Fig. 24. Khavendaevich, hammer and sickle image, Tuva, 1996

Fig. 23. Khavendaevich, Tuvinian shaman with drum, Tuva, 1996


als attached and three golden fish with silver threaded tails hanging from the light cords. on one of the hallway corners was a picture of a tuvinian shaman in traditional feathered headdress with snakes on his garment, holding a large round drum and balancing on one leg on a large tree stump with a red desert and a small mountain in the background.

on the door to his consultation room hung a sign with a picture of himself dressed in shaman outfit and drum and listing all the shaman services he could provide. on the left hand side of the room, between and in front of the paint-ed designs, hung a whole series of traditional tuvinian stringed instruments, as well as eeren (the word for ongons in tuvinian). there was a billboard with photographs from his life, topped by an enormous spread of (real) eagle wings. next to the musical instruments was a hunting bow and a clock which was made in the shape of a gigantic wrist watch and also contributed to the effect of having entered a space where everything changed and was extraordinary. in the left hand corner of the room, near the window, was a Buddhist altar, with small and large thangkas of various Buddhist gods, and prayer beads descending from shelves that had little buddhas sitting demurely on gold doilies. Another painting of a horse herd sat on the floor behind the altar. most surprisingly, on a right hand side floor wall panel red star designs as well as two images of the hammer and sickle, one in red and one in blue, the blue one with a laurel branch laid underneath it and the red nestled in between two difference types of leafed-out branches, were stenciled. A curious mixture of ideologies – also known as hedging one’s bets. on the left hand wall hung his feathered headdress, his large brown drum with 12 white circles painted on it, and his eeren, among them a sa-ble, a claw of another small animal, a bear claw, an arrow, a shaman’s whip to chase bad spirits, a horse hoof eeren, a drum stick with a face of a spirit on it, and a squirrel skin. in addition he had a flag or a fan that was made of fabric and showed the sun, a horse and the moon. he used this for chasing black spirits away and to fan artish towards a person. it was a broom and ”sweeps clean”, he explained. he had a Jew’s harp in a box in the shape of a shoe. his coat, which he put on together with his feathered headdress, had bells and snakes on it. his headdress had a red and green band and feathers standing upright, exactly like the Plains native American headdress. And exactly like the shaman of the petro-glyph in uvs aimak, mongolia. in midst of all this vivid display of traditional tuvinian art and artifacts, he suddenly disappeared and returned, bringing in his new prized possession, a huge Panasonic video-cam.

so that was our newly-minted artist-shaman, entranced by the new world and its post-soviet possibilities, as well as incorporating and embodying in his environment the aesthetics of the traditional shamanic world (Fridman 2004: 277–278).


ArtistsAs noted, shamanism has been embraced as a subject for painters and other visual artists in the mongolian world. this is partly due to the tradition of Bud-dhist thangka paintings, a tradition of tibetan scroll painting on cloth or other surfaces that depict Buddhist deities or Buddhist paradise. Mandalas – (a sacred space that has been set aside or adorned or a geometric diagram that portrays the perfected world of a deity or group of deities) are often depicted on thang-kas also (mcArthur 2002: 206). As was described in the above text concerning mongolian and tuvinian shamans, Buddhist sacred objects have been actively integrated with shaman ritual objects; many of the shamans consider them-selves both Buddhist and shamanist. the history of Buddhism and shamanism in Buryatia is replete with examples of Buddhist thangkas and other Buddhist ritual objects that replaced shamanic elements of worship after Buddhist lamas from mongolia began to missionize in tunka in the middle of the 18th century. one of the most clear-cut instances of the significance of locale and the recipro-cal absorption of lamaist and shamanist elements into a single sacred entity is the sacred obo site (a heaped tumulus either at the top or at the base of a moun-tain, or located at a river or lake where public prayer in honor of the host of the locality is offered). in tunka the chief Buryat god, Bukha-noyon, was changed by lamas into rinchen-Khan. in the 1840s a temple was erected in his honor in tunka, in which were placed bronze statues of the Buddhist gods, icons with their representations, and an altar with family sacrificial cups. the shamanist eshins (hosts, protectors, god, spirit) disappeared from the obo but some eshins were not dismissed from their duties and instead were given new tibetan names and even canonical lama portraits. rituals of sacrifice became syncretic; that is, half-shamanist, half-lamaist (Fridman 1998, i: 59–81).

Following the demise of the soviet union and the subsequent freedom to practice shamanism, speak about shamanism, and depict shamans, there was an outpouring of art that portrayed shamans shamanizing, often freely offered in the main suhbaatar square in ulaanbaatar. in 1995 i was able to purchase in ulan ude, Buryatia a large print of a shaman in black and white (the artist is Jimbaeva, dated 1994). the shaman, wearing a heavily ornamented gown, is sit-ting, chanting, holding his drum. serpents seem to be entwined above his head over which a large black bird is hovering. the following year, 1996, when i was doing research in tuva, i came across an oil painting in an art gallery by mai-ool mongush of a tuvinian shaman doing a 40-day ritual after the death of a family member. We can see the shaman on his knees lifting up his hands in supplica-tion to the spirits. A small fire has been built in order to send smoke upwards. the mourning family consisting of two older women, an old man and two chil-dren is standing behind the shaman to the left side. the red mountains of tuva


Fig. 25. Image of Buryat shaman, Jimbaeva

1995 (Buryatia)

Fig. 27. Mongolian

shaman in trance, Amarsaikhan

Namshaijav 2010 (Mongolia)

Fig. 26. 49-day ritual after

death, Mai-ool Mongush 1996

(Tuva)


rise in the background. two women are making an offering to the spirits, for whom a table has been laid of white milk products. this is a whole tableau of a well-known and well-practiced ritual in tuva and the artist has depicted the interplay of the shaman and the purpose of the ritual in a clear and meaning-ful manner. At the time i was in tuva in 1996, i knew someone who went to an identical ritual following her brother’s death.

the most striking example of a shaman (artist: Amarsaikhan namsraijav 2010) was seen in the gallery associated with the museum of Fine Arts in ul-aanbaatar in mongolia. this oil painting is a powerful portrait of a shaman in trance, in a ritual, as if lifting himself up into the air, oblivious of any other constraints. the artist’s ability to portray motion, an essential ingredient in the whole production of a shaman ritual, is astounding, greatly dependent on his ability to utilize strong diagonals that give action and force to the shaman.

shamanism as seen through this long period of time, starting with the Bronze Age petroglyphs, has been invigorated and nourished by art, whether through integration with nature, envisaged and embodied by shamans in themselves and in their environment, or by artists honoring and rejoicing in their shamanic cul-tural tradition.

ReferencesDashnyam, l. (ed.) 1999. monuments of Mongolian history and culture. ulaanbaatar:

mongolian Academy of humanitiesDavis-Kimball, J. 2002. Warrior women. new York, n.Y.: Warner Press.Fridman, e. J. neumann 1998. Silk Road syncretism: Buddhism and shamanism in culture-

clash. in The Third Silk Road Conference at Yale University, Conference Proceedings, Vol-ume I, July 10–12, 1998.

Fridman, e. J. neumann 2004. Sacred geography: Shamanism among the Buddhist peoples of Russia. Bibliotheca shamanistica 12. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó.

martin, D. l. 2011. CuriousvVisions of modernity. Cambridge, massachusetts: the mit Press.

mcArthur, m. 2002. Reading Buddhist art. london: thames and hudson, ltd.The National Museum of Mongolia Catalog. 2010. ulaanbaatar: the national museum of

mongolia.Purev, o. 2008. Mongolian shamanism. ulaanbaatar: mongolia.robinson, C. 2010. Mongolia. hong Kong: Airphoto international ltD.Vitebsky, P. 2005. The reindeer people. Boston, new York: houghton mifflin Co.



Lia Zola

Women shamans and their portrayal in the Olonkho Sakha epic poems

A brief introduction to the Olonkho epic poemsthe term Olonkho refers to epic poems which are performed in the sakha re-public (Yakutia). these texts deal with ancient knights' deeds: they are meant as the ancestors and defenders of the sakha people. in the Olonkho epics the sakha people are called sakha uraangkhaĭ; the underlying idea is that they descend from the sakha god-spirits Aĭyy. they are also referred to as Aĭyy aĭmaga, literally, the Gods’ relatives.in the Olonkho poems, the action takes place within the three mythological worlds: the upper, the middle and the lower world. the middle world, which is connected to the other two realms by the sacred, cosmic tree Aal Luuk Mas, is inhabited by the sakha people and by a number of spirit masters, the itchi. the upper world is the site of the god-spirits Aĭyy and of evil creatures, the Abaahy, whose dwelling rests mainly in the lower world.

the very first part of the poems often starts with a preamble, which intro-duces the ancient times. then goes the description of the hero, starting from his physical features, his house, and his wealth.

in almost every poem the main hero is a knight or a female knight: their task include fighting for their place on earth, granting the continuity of their peo-ple, making a family and defending the interests of their kin. the counterhero, the one against whom the main hero fights, is a knight belonging to the abaahy creatures. the other characters acting in the Olonkho all group around the main hero and are, for instance, his brothers and sisters, his parents and other rela-tives (illarionov and illarionova 2009).

the Olonkho develop their plot through time and cover a time span of two-three generations, so that it is quite common to read about the hero's sons and

146 Lia Zola

grandsons, their lives and their deeds, as we will see in the Olonkho Kurubaĭ Khaannaakh Kulun Kullustur.

A relevant point, indicating that probably the Olonkho were conceived at times when the social class division was already set in sakha society, is the presence of several characters-slaves: soruk Bollur, the horse herd wrangler, simėkhsin, an old maid and farmyard worker, a boy whose name may vary according to the Olonkho, a houseworker, and so on. the slaves are defeated knights belonging to the abaahy. the latter, in their turn, own their slaves who are battle prison-ers belonging to the Aĭyy aĭmaga (Pukhov and ergis 1985).

the heros are protected by a number of god-spirits living in the upper world. most of them are characterized by the name of Aĭyy, which in sakha language means to create, to mould: they are meant as the creators of mankind and the mythic ancestors of the sakha people: Ürung Aĭyy Toĭon (the White lord), for instance, not only protects the heroes, but is also considered the sakha people's forefather, as well as Dgezegeĭ Aĭyy, the protector of cattle and horse breeding and the one who provides the people with horses.

other god-spirits, goddesses and spirit masters protect the heroes and their relatives: this is the case of Aĭyysyt, who helps the sakha women to bear children and Iėiėichsit, who helps the cattle's reproduction.

the Olonkho also display shamans: half human and half supernatural beings, they are normally called for help by the heroes when misfortunes occur. sha-mans can act on behalf of the god-spirits Aĭyy or Abaahy: the latter, just like the Abaahy, are portrayed with ugly and hideous features.

shamans can be men and women, but their role in the epic poems some-how differs: whereas men shamans can only be shamans, women shamans are also warriors and knights. Another difference rests in their dwelling: whereas women shamans can be found both in the upper, middle and lower worlds, men shamans are completely absent from the middle world, as we will see later on (Pukhov and ergis 1985).

the Olonkho poems were and are still performed by narrators called Olonkho-huty: up to the 20s in every district there were dozens of them, often competing for the best performance.

the art of narrating was developed within the family context and was the best entertainment during the long winter evenings. the narrator had to be an actor, a talented singer and master of eloquence, perfect in poetical improvisa-tion and must have an outstanding memory, since the lenght of the poetic tales varies from 6 to 20 000 lines, the longest amounts to 34 000 lines. speeches were and are still performed in the form of a song; descriptive and narrative ex-tracts are recited at a quick pace.

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147Women shamans and their portrayal in the Olonkho Sakha epic poems

it is still debated when the Olonkho poems were composed, as they were passed on orally from generation to generation. What is known for sure is that the first Olonkho was written down in 1878 by the head of the Polar expedition of the russian Academy of sciences Academician Aleksandr Fedorovich midden-dorf. he wrote down the beginning of one Olonkho, Eriedel Bergen- Ėr sogotokh (eriedel the Precise) and included it in his work Puteshestviie na Sever i Vostok Sibiri

(Trip to Northern and Eastern Siberia).the first Olonkho which appeared in russian, Ürüng uolan (the white young

man), was translated by the native scholar and ethnographer nikolaĭ s. Gorok-hov in 1884 (izvestiia VsorGo 1884).

in early soviet times the history of Olonkho witnessed a remarkable change: the sakha intellectual Platon Alekseevich oiunskiĭ, a gifted poet and adept in national epos, reproduced and (quoting the lines of one of the sakha sites ded-icated to the Olonkhos) “creatively and masterly reconstructed” the Olonkho Dĭuluruiar Nurgun Bootur (nurgun Bootur the impetuous) which he heard from many narrators.

so, this was a turning point in Olonkho production, since these epics started to be conceived and used as literary works with a fictitious character.

During the soviet period a special institute for the study of the language and Culture1 was created; one of its main aims was to collect the widest amount of Olonkho.

Before the outburst of World War ii, the institute for the study of the lan-guage and Culture began organizing competitions for the best narrators and collectors of Olonkho; they turned into official national competitions in 1940, but were interrupted during World War ii and started again after the end of the conflict. today it is still possible to attend these performances which take place in different sites of the sakha republic. up to now 163 Olonkhos have been writ-ten down, 127 of which are full texts.

in 2005 the Olonkho poems were proclaimed a masterpiece of oral and in-tangible heritage by the unesCo. since then the interest towards the epic pro-duction has been growing. Among the numerous cultural events connected to the Olonkho it is worth mentioning a good number of sakha sites as well as art exhibitions are dedicated to them.

1 the institute for the study of the language and Culture is now the i.G.i., Institut Gumani-tarnykh Issledovaniĭ.

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An outline of Pekarskiĭ's work in the context of the Olonkho productionedvard Karlovich Pekarskiĭ was born in the district of minsk in 1858; in 1878 he joined the political organization Narodnaia Volia (the People's Will)2. two years later he was arrested, trialed for terroristic activities and exiled in Yakutia, in the taatta district, where he spent almost twenty years.

his main work is the Slovar' Iakutskogo Iazyka (Dictionary of iakut language), written between 1907 and 1930, but he wrote, edited and composed many other works regarding the sakha material and immaterial culture.

Between 1907 and 1918 he edited the volume Obrazcy narodnoĭ literatury Ia-kutov (models of iakut Popular literature), a collection in three tomes of epic poems Olonkho including also popular ftales, poems, beliefs, anecdotes, tellings, all written in sakha.

What emerges from his works is that Pekarskiĭ, as most of the scholars of his generation, considered the Olonkho simply tales. nevertheless he made a distic-tion between the singing parts, which he called 'heroic poems' and the recited ones, labelled “tales, similar to russian ones”. he also tried to classify the sakha oral production genres and put the Olonkho at the first place, followed by his-torical legends (ostuoriia), tales (kėpsėėn), toĭuk-style songs (yrya-toĭuk), tongue-twisters (khabyrğakh), sayings (ös khohoonnoro) and riddles (taabyrynnar) (Puk-hov and ergis 1985).

in 1894 he reported that "ionov and i3 certainly agree in believing that it is absolutely necessary to collect and edit the greatest amount of iakut texts. it is necessary to say, however, that editing semi-literate Olonkho writings without a universal and clear method of transcription of the iakut texts represents one of the most critical points. We thus decided to write down the texts following each his own method" (Pekarskiĭ 1894, quoted in Pukhov and ergis 1985: 546).

in the first tome the author collected 15 Olonkho, 7 of them almost in their full lenght, in the second he published a whole Olonkho and other three in a shorter form. the third tome represents the most relevant one, as it contains Kuruubay Khaannaakh Kulun Kullustuur (the impetuous Kulun Kullustuur). this Olonkho was written down by the folklorist and ethnographer Viktor n. Vasil'ev

2 Narodnaia Volia was a political organization founded in 1878. Among its aims was the over-turning of the autocratic regime of the tsars through terroristic acts, the main of which took place in 1881and witnessed tsar Aleksandr ii’s murder. its members sought democratic and so-cialistic reforms of russian political structure, including the creation of a constitution, the in-troduction of universal suffrage, freedom of expression and the transfer of land and factories to the peasants and laborers who worked in them.

3 Pekarsky refers to the linguist V.m. ionov who wah exiled too and was of great help in the creation of the dictionary.


from the Olonkhohut innokentiĭ Gur'evich timofeev-teploukhov from the Amga district in 1906.

Pekarskiĭ, as mentioned before, worked almost 30 years on his Dictionary and often used Olonkho texts as the main source for the terms he included in it.

Kuruubaĭ Khaannaakh Kulun Kullustuur and three generations of women shamansAs in the majority of the Olonkho production, the main hero here is Kulun Kul-lustuur, who begins his path with an 'order' given by the god-spirits: "be the fore-father of your kind, the cattle herder in the middle paradise, give birth to four iakut, educate two iakut and three iakut" (Pukhov and ergis 1985: 321–322).

the Olonkho Kuruubaĭ Khaannaakh Kulun Kullustuur, however, shows some peculiar aspects. First of all, a few secondary characters whose function is to ad-vise and help the hero are missing. it is the case of Kudai Baksy, the blacksmith, who generally forges the weapons for the hero, sėėrkėn sėsėn, the wise man, who advises and shows the hero the right path against his enemies, simėkhsin, the old farmyard worker, who helps the hero to find a wife.

this led some scholars, such as Pukhov and ergis, to argue that the main acting figures in this precise poem are not male heroes, but heroines. A good number of Olonkho display women who act as main heroines: one of these is Kylaannaach Kyys nürgun, a quite recurrent character who fights both against the knights representing the god-spirits Aĭyy and those belonging the abaahy in order to defend her honour and her bravery. Kylaannaach Kyys nürgun, how-ever, is just a female knight, whereas the female characters playing in Kuruubay Khaannaakh Kulun Kullustuur are above all shamans and sorceresses.

in this precise Olonkho the heroines-shamans are three, belonging to differ-ent generations: Kün tolomon nürgustai (first generation), Kyys nürgun (sec-ond generation), and Aĭbangsa (third generation). Among the three of them, the main role is played by Kün tolomon nürgustai, the hero’s wife.

in the first part of the poem, Kulun Kullustuur doesn’t want to marry Kün tolomon nürgustai because she is a shaman and she “eats the meat of sacrifi-cial cattle”4, but she forces him to marry her. From his point of view, she leads him to fight against the abaahy knights. he does it unwillingly but eventually he defeats them. From her point of view, fighting against the abaahy is neces-sary, as her fiancé must fulfil every hero’s main task: to free mankind from the underworld evil creatures.

4 this refers to the so called 'black shamans' who addressed the spirits of the underworld and offered them cattle during. 'White shamans', on the other hand, dealt only with the upper world god-spirits and practiced through bloodless sacrifices. the issue of 'black' and 'white' shamans, however, is still debated (see, for instance troshanskiĭ 1903: 113–133; romanova 1988: 20–73).

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Kün tolomon nürgustai is described as a wise, busy landlady and as a good mother, in spite of her disappointment for being refused by her husband. she is deeply in love with him and proves it carrying Kulun Kullustuur to the upper World to have him judged by the dod-spirits, helping him to fight against the abaahy knights, taking care of their children and helping them finding the right partner in life. in the second part of the Olonkho she is actually the head of the family: her husband who sends her children to her for advice and, even if he does it ironically, in fact it is her who takes the important decisions. on one side she is shown as a strong fighter who revers the god-spirits and the spirit masters, on the other she is a powerful shaman, as illustrated below:

"this woman shaman was among all womenthe most beautiful and the most stunning [...].[she wore] a weavy braid, a white oval drum the size of a small lake,with a well polished bell [...].she was the best in wearing shaman decorations,with silk tassels coring from her forearm to her knee;she was also the best foreseer, the strongest among those who wore the sha-

man's fur,the greatest among the greater shamans, the first one among womenand very powerful among the other female knights" (Pukhov and ergis 1985:

304–305).

the second main female character is Kyys-nürgun, the shaman-magician: she is Kulun Kullustuur and Kün tolomon nürgustai’s daughter-in-law, but at the beginning refuses to marry her fiancé Boskhongolloĭ mülgün because he looks ugly.

she is depicted as a terrible fighter who combines the strenght of a powerful female knight with the inventiveness of a great shaman-magician, always trying to find out new and subtle ways of fighting. Kyys-nürgun, at the very begin-ning, is an ambivalent character: in her youth she joined the abaahy knights who turned her off the right path. As the main duty for an Olonkho hero is to make a family and grant the continuity of the kin, Kyys-nürgun is “purified” from her evil side with fire and water. After this she becomes a normal woman, ready for marriage and for a family (Pukhov and ergis 1985).

the third female figure belongs to the third generation: her name is Aĭbangsa and she is Kün tolomon nürgustai and Kulun Kullustuur’s grandaughter. her task in life is to help her relatives to find the right partner, specifically her un-cle Boskhongolloĭ mülgün. in order to do so, she uses her supernatural powers which she inherits from her grandmother Kün tolomon nürgustai. she also

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“trains” her and makes a great shaman woman out of her5. in order to fulfil her task, Aĭbangsa fights against the tungus shaman Ard’amaana-D’ard’amaana, who is her uncle’s rival, and eventually kills him6. she also fights against Kyys-nürgun: theirs is both a duel between knights and shamans. their battle is de-scribed with spectacular tones: they fly to the sky and into the clouds with in-credible rapidity in the shape of birds and carry on the fight on mountain passes or take on the shape of magic fishes and fight at the bottom of the sea:

"the shaman Kyys-nürgunflew to the other side of the seatore in two the cloud where she wasand rushed down to the unfrozen sea.three times she twisted herself around,and took the shape of a deadly salmonwith a protruding backbone and overturnig gillsAĭyy Aĭbangsa quickly ran after her.she tore in two the cloud where she wasAnd rushed down to the earth.three times she twisted herself around,and took the shape of a coloured dragon-fishwith a protruding back-bone and overturning gills.she stretched her long bodyAnd jumped into the water looking for the salmon" (Pukhov and ergis 1985: 517–518).

none of the two shamans dies, but Kyys-nürgun is defeated and eventually accepts to marry her fiancé Boskhongolloi mül’gün.

Aĭbangsa herself must find a husband too: at the very end of the poem it is the knight Duguĭ saaryn, the son of a knight and a woman shaman's, who asks her hand in marriage. her parents want her to get married but at first she re-fuses and wants to prove wether her fiancé is able to offer her an adequate pro-tection from the aabahy knights. in doing so, she fights against her fiancé and quickly defeats him, but her grandmother interfers and, using her magical skills, she manages to unite the two rivals' souls (Pukhov and ergis 1985).

5 the 'training' of a shaman was composed of two main steps. the first one was represented by a serious illness during which the shaman’s soul would be taken by the spirits and undergo a ter-rible ordeal, including the 'tearing apart' of every bone of his body. the second one was a joint seance with an older and experienced shaman.

6 this tungus shaman is quite recurrent in many Olonkho. he is usually described as an old man in his fur who either mounts a reindeer, or wears a pair of skis. in this precise poem, he is a counter-hero, whereas in other Olonkho he is a positive character who helps the hero.

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The Olonkho, female shamanism and the hypothesis of a matriarchal cult the three women shamans playing in Kuruubaĭ Khaannaakh Kulun Kullustuur use their supernatural powers in many ways, including increasing their skills as knights too.

in other epic texts women shamans use to fight against the abaahy wom-en shamans, but also use their powers to raise the dead, to cure the ill and the wounded. they are often portrayed with shamanic paraphernalia: a cloak, a drum and a drumstick (emel'ianov 1983).

in the Olonkho Uelėn Khardaachchy (uelėn the Brave), for instance, the wom-an shaman D'abyla Kuo "sucks out from his mother's womb a seven-month child, uelėn, then takes him with her, raises, educates him and eventually makes a great hero out of him" (Arkhiv iAnts).in the Olonkho Udağattar Uolumar Aĭgyr ikki (The two women shamans Uolumar and Aĭgyr), written down by Pekarskĭi in 1886, the woman shaman uolumar wears the shaman cloak and shamanizes. she turns herself into an eight-legged spotted bull and stabs with her horns an abaahy woman, until she manages to chase her back to the underworld. on her way back, uolumar finds herself into a beautiful world: it is dwelled by the god-spirits Aĭyy. there she cures a beau-tiful girl, Kun Ėrilik and even the shaman Kyykyllaan. Aĭgyr turns herself into a crane and follows her sister (emel'ianov 1983).

sakha historical legends and sayings deal with women shamans too: this one, for instance, was written down by Gavril V. Ksenofontov in 1925 in the region of sredniĭ Viliĭuĭsk: "the shaman Dgaanaĭ had a younger sister, she was a white shaman, a shaman who was in touch with the spirits of the upper world. But she was unhappy and disappointed by her brother's deeds, so she left her home forever. she turned into a bird and flew to the upper world through the fireplace hole. Dgaanaĭ could not hold her as she was much stronger than him" (Kseno-fontov 1928: 49).

Another telling deals with the well-known woman shaman Alysardaakh. her destiny was to become a great shaman but the older shaman ekecheen could not 'train' her because she was destined to a higher nest than ekecheen's one (Pakhomova 1990)7.

many siberian mythological cycles are devoted to or take into account women shamans: in turkic-mongolic epic poems they are often benevolent shamans and cultural heroines who play the main roles. in a buriat myth on the two women shamans Aĭschan and Khusykhan, for instance, Aĭschan's union with a bull and

7 it was believed that, during a shaman’s training, his soul would be placed on the shaman tree. every branch had a nest: the stronger was the shaman, the higher the nest on the branches.

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Khusykhan's with a thin-tailed burbot give birth to the ancestors of the buriat tribes Bulagat and ekhirit.

in the khakass epos Altan Aryg, a powerful female knight, Altan Aryg, by vir-tue of her supernatural powers 'bears herself' but is imprisoned into a white rock. thanks to the help of the sky-gods and of the sorceress Khu-iney, who also pro-tects that particular rock, the heroine can eventually be freed (Grintser 1974).

Going back to the iakut Olonkho, it s worth mentioning that in this specific genre the term shaman is also referred to female characters who don't shaman-ize, but play the role of 'simple' heroines, as if the composers and the editors of these works coulnd't find a proper explanation to the overwhelming female role in many Olonkho, including Kuruubaĭ Khaannaakh Kulun Kullustuur. in the Olonkho production, as stated before, male shamans can be found both in the upper and lower worlds, but not in the middle one, which is exclusively reserved to women shamans. All these aspects led a few scholars, among whom Pukhov and ergis, to argue that the role played by the main female characters, their features both as a warriors and as shamans, could be a reflection of an ancient matriarchal phase.

the hypothesys of a matriarchal phase in sakha history and, specifically, the-ories on the appearance of female shamanism prior to male shamanism in Ya-kutia are not new. in the soviet period, for instance, an archeological expedition led between 1941 and 1943 in the basin of the lena river showed in 28 sites some paleolithic findings. similar sites and small statues portraying “Paleolithic Figurines”, as they are normally indicated, were also found in different places in siberia.

on the basis of these findings, the soviet archeologist and ethnologist Alekseĭ P. okladnikov argued that shamanism probably appeared in Paleolithic age and that the very first shamans were women. their ritual activity was mainly repre-sented by fire worshipping; they were also keepers and guardians of sacred sites and their images were displayed on rocks. their role, however, was not limited to the religious arena, but included an active participation in political life too (okladnikov 1948).

A few contemporary sakha scholars, among whom the ethnograpger Kseno-font D. utkin, supported okladnikov’s hypothesis and adopted a linguistic ap-proach to validate the latter’s theories. According to utkin, all turkic-speaking groups referred to the first female religious specialists as utgan, udağan or od-egon: these are all words resulting from the ancient-turkik root ut (ot) = fire and from the suffix –gan, which is the gender specification. As a consequence, utgan could easily be the fist female fire worshipper (mikhaĭlov 1980).

other scholars supported these theories and stated that yakut shamanism, in its male form, would have turkik-mongolic origins and woul be more recent

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than the matriarchal cult of women shamans (ivanov 1971; ergis 1961; Alek-seev 1975).

As it is known, Western scholarship formulated debates on a possible matri-archal stage of human development from 19th century8. Althrough 20th century several generations of scholars, usually taking inspiration from known myths, oral traditions and examining neolithic female cult-figures, suggested that many ancient societies might have been matriarchal, or even that there existed a wide-ranging matriarchal society prior to the ancient cultures of which we are aware. these theories are mostly discredited today, but what counts here is that both western and siberian scholars drew their theories from mythological or legend-ary texts. the Olonkho are a good example: we still don't know when these works were first composed. the sakha past which they described is very broad and general and lacks precise relevant historical data. For instance, the sakha people came and settled down on the banks of the lena river about 10th–11th century, but in the Olonkho poems there is no record of this, neither is on the arrival of the russians in the 17th century, which irreversibly changed the destiny of the following three centuries of the inhabitants of the sakha republic. last but not least, as we have seen, since oĭunskiĭ, the Olonkho poems started not only to be written down, but also composed, thus becoming literary, fictitious works.

nonetheless many contemporary intellectuals and sakha scholars who have devoted most of their production to the Olonkhos, state that "these poems also tell about the ethnic awareness of the sakha people at times of political con-straint and in unfavourable climatic and geographical surroundings" (illarionov and illarionova 2009: 4). And also, according to some authors such as ivan usnhickiĭ and Valeriĭ Vasil’ev, a deeper analysis of the Olonkho texts would indi-cate ancient shamanic practices and the original homeland of the sakha people.

in particular, since the fall of the soviet union the sakha republic has wit-nesses a revival of shamanism. this means, up to our days, not only the return of effective shamans on the sakha religious arena, but also the involvement of the fine arts, such as theatre performances about shamanism, films, art exhi-bitions and, last but not least, a good amount of books on shamans and sha-manism written or re-edited by the most different authors (writers, journalists, ethnographers, pre-soviet ethnographers, shamans themselves). the unifiying feature of all these works, albeit they differ in style and content, is that, once again, they borrow from the epic poems some supernatural beings such as the Aĭyy and the abaahy, which were not characteristic of shamanic practices, in the shamanic worldvision and, of course, women shamans.

8 see, for instance, Bachofen 1861; harrison 1903; Gimbutas 1956.

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vosibirsk: nauka.Bachofen, J. J. 1861. Mother right: A study of the religious and juridicial aspects of gynecoc-

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54–60. Grigor'eva, s. i. 2005. Udağan kul’turata uonna oĭuunnaahyn. Yakutsk: Bichik.Grintser, P. A. 1974. Drevneindiĭskiĭ ėpos. Genezis i tipologiia. moskva: nauka.harrison, J. e. 1903. Prolegomena to the study of Greek religion. Princeton: Princeton uni-

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chik.ivanov, s. n. 1971. Starinniĭ iakutskiĭĭ obriad, sviazannyĭ s rozhdeniem rebenka. in Re-

ligioznye verovaniia i obriady narodov Sibiri v XIX nach. XX vv, 142–149. leningrad.ivanov, e. n. 1977. Leksika po iakutskomu shamanizmu. manuscript.Ksenofontov, G. V. 1928. Legendy i rasskazy o shamanakh u Iakutov, Buriat i Tungusov,

chast' 1. irkutsk. mikhaĭlov, t. m. 1980. Istoki buriatskogo shamanizma. novosibirsk: nauka.okladnikov, A. P. 1949. Proshloe Iakutii do prisoedineniia k russkomu gosudarstvo. moskva-

leningrad.Pakhomova, A. 1990. ukhullubatakh udagan. Sakhaada may 16th.Pekarskiĭ, e. K. 1907–1930. Slovar' iakutskogo iazyka. leningrad.Pekarskiĭ, e. K. 1916 (ed.). Obraztsy narodnoĭ literatury Iakutov, izdavaemye pod. red. E.K.

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Dagmar Eigner

The poetics of healing: Shamanic rituals in Central Nepal

IntroductionDrumming, singing, dancing and the enactment of ritual dramas are important parts of traditional shamanic performances. sometimes it is even said that good and effective shamans have to be able to sing and dance well (michl 1976). es-pecially during the big evening or night sessions the aesthetic qualities of the performances are essential constituents of the healing rituals. in the follow-ing the interrelation between the patients’ problems, the cultural tradition of social dramas, diagnostic systems and corresponding therapies are delineated. the social drama comprises all the possible and probable events that may hap-pen in the specific group or society. how much they are concordant with the in-dividual problems of the patients in the healing rituals does not seem to be of much importance. thus, individual stories are moulded in the existing cultural patterns. through the shamans’ ritual performance the basic patterns come to life, are connected with the patients’ emotions, and then solved according the traditional plots.

Concepts of illness causation and diagnosisDepending on the specific ailments healers give certain reasons lying behind the problems that serve as a starting point for rituals designed to solve the prob-lems and alleviate the sufferings. All diagnoses and diagnostic manuals, also in Western biomedicine, are culture dependent and embedded in the worldviews and philosophical systems of the respective societies.

in traditional societies illnesses are often attributed to the influence of spir-its and witches. spirits represent the non-material world and can cause all sorts

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of troubles ranging from a general feeling of not being well to all kinds of so-matic disorders. even accidents can happen due to the actions of a spirit. evans-Pritchard (1978: 64) emphasizes that only the specific circumstances leading to an accident is explained by supernatural interference and not the accident itself. For example, a boy would stumble over the trunk of a tree on one day, but not on another day when he is not under the influence of some spiritual or cosmic force. in indigenous societies the life of humans is seen in a wider context in-cluding the spiritual (non-physical) level and cosmic constellations.

regarding the naming process of disorders, the transcultural psychiatrist Wolfgang Pfeiffer (1991: 95) notes that the terrible thing about a diagnosis like 'schizophrenia' is that it neither gives plausible explanations concerning the ill-ness causation nor provides therapeutic steps, but instead it stigmatises the patient and the family in public opinion. he continues that, on the contrary, a diagnosis like 'evil eye' or 'spirit possession' frees the patient from accusations, mobilizes support by the family or social group, and points towards a therapeu-tic programme that is beyond doubt. thus, different diagnostic systems are not only equally logical but can also bear special benefits for effective treatment.

Furthermore, a specific diagnosis is not just a name for a given fact in a medi-cal system equally valid in all cultures. it is not a word that can be translated into another word of a different language. the question “what is really wrong with the patient?” therefore will lead to confusion of cultural realities. Wiemann-michaels (1994) has investigated if the “depressive syndrome” in Western di-agnostic system is equivalent to 'being bewitched' in nepal. she concludes that although there are many similarities on the symptomatic level the complex of causation, meaning, and expression is different and therefore, one syndrome cannot be understood as a translation of the other.

Psychosocial conflictsWith examples from nepal i want to show the interrelation of symptoms, di-agnosis, and therapy. if a traditional healer finds out that other persons are in-volved in the causation of the patient’s suffering it is likely the he/she will diag-nose witchcraft. Witches are thought to be live, concrete persons who mainly act out of anger and envy. they are not seen as monsters who cause harm without reason, but it is assumed that they have experienced hurt, unjust treatment or neglect. thus, their behaviour is considered to be very human and understand-able so they should not only be punished but also be appeased, because a last-ing therapeutic effect can only be achieved if the witches have no more reason to cause harm.

Witches are said to know several methods to harm their victims: cast spells, spoil food or raise and send spirits to destroy someone. the latter is the most

159The poetics of healing: Shamanic rituals in Central Nepal

dangerous method that definitely calls for a big night ritual to sort out the prob-lems, send back the spirit, and re-establish harmony in the social group of the patient, the witch, family members or other persons who have important rela-tionships with the patient or the witch.

specific diagnoses have specific meanings and implications. Witchcraft and spirit possession can be seen as constructs that are shaped according to a social reality and are associated with certain symptoms like trembling and uttering in-telligible words. these are signals to the surrounding that a person cannot cope with the pressures or aggressions he or she experiences.

in case of irreconcilable conflicts, the production of these symptoms (no mat-ter how consciously or unconsciously it may be generated) is sufficient to pre-pare the ground for a specific kind of therapy. expectations and theories that exist in a society play an important role. „everyone sees it happen to others and expects without question that in similar circumstances it will happen to oneself. And it does.“ (Carstairs 1958: 1218). Berger and luckmann (1980: 190) hold the opinion that psychological theories that are known by people become part of the everyday reality in the lives of those persons. A diagnosis and its implications must be familiar to all the members of a community so that the ways outlined to solve the problems are shared knowledge.

Tamang shamans in Nepalthe tamang who constitute the largest ethnic minority in nepal are famous for the numerous shamans among them.1 Although in urban areas modern bio-medical service is available, shamans still play an important role in the health care system. especially in case of mental disturbances, psychosocial problems, or drug addiction shamans are consulted because there is hardly an alternative. sometimes they are even called into a hospital to provide additional treatments for patients there.

originally the tamang have come from southern tibet and they speak a ti-beto-Birman language. today they live primarily in the mountains east and west of Kathmandu Valley and the Valley itself (Bista 1967). in the multi-ethnic areas of Central nepal many of the tamang shamans’ clients belong to other ethnic groups. A healer is usually chosen because of the reputation that he or she en-joys and not because of a specific cultural background. the language spoken in

1 several periods of fieldwork of altogether 45 months have been carried out in Central ne-pal between1984 and 2012. i would like to thank the Austrian Funds for the Advancement of research and science for their generous financial support (1995 to 1997: Charlotte Bühler ha-bilitation stipend; 2001 to 2003: research project “A mirror of Consciousness: shamans’ Com-ments on their rituals”).

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such inter-ethnic consultations is nepali, which is similar to hindi and lingua franca in nepal.

Structure and dynamics of possession ritualsif a person is diagnosed as being possessed by a malevolent spirit – and espe-cially if a person manipulates the spirit in order to harm someone – a healing ritual has to be performed to pacify the spirit and solve the problems in the so-cial network of the patient. the main steps of the healing session, their mean-ings, and the therapeutic importance are as follows:2

– rhythmic singing and drumming by the healer, calling helping spirits, and thereby marking the ritual space and time

– inducing an altered state of consciousness in the patient by rhythmic stim-ulation

– interrogating the spirit that is troubling the patient: the spirit should tell why it has attacked the patient, if it has been raised and sent by a person who wants to harm the patient (and maybe also other persons, especially close relatives of the patient)

– thus, with the 'voice' of the spirit, the patient can talk freely about fam-ily matters, express deep emotions, and accuse other persons, also senior family members, because it is not himself/herself

– if a patient cannot let the spirit speak through himself/herself the healer will take over this role and thereby elicit an intense communication about the problems in the family or community

– the ritual time and space provides a sheltered situation for people present so that no one has to fear negative consequences for any uttering or non-verbal behaviour

– the specific ritual language and rhythmic synchronisation facilitate an in-tense therapeutic process

– sometimes also the person who has sent the spirit speaks through the mouth of the patient or the healer

– in the last part of the ritual the malevolent spirit and its master have to be appeased, and they have to promise that they will never cause any troubles again

– Before the closure of the ritual sacrifices are offered to the spirit as substi-tute for the patient

this process alleviates feelings of guilt that may have been in the patient be-fore the treatment because he/she was not able to cope with the family situation,

2 For a detailed description of traditional spirit possession rituals see eigner 2001.


could not do daily work, and maybe even showed aggressive behaviour. Due to the metaphor of spirit possession and witchcraft the patient has no personal responsibility for any malfunctioning. the traditional healer also serves as the director of the ritual to ensure that everything is done correctly and harmony is re-established at the end of the treatment.

individual conflicts embedded in cultural concepts are enacted in the course of healing sessions. spirit possession rituals provide a symbolic language, in which conflicts can be expressed, discussed, and solved.

Rhythm and music therapyBy rhythmic drumming, singing, and dancing traditional healers induce altered states of consciousness in themselves, in the patient, and to some degree in all the people who are present. it is assumed that a synchronization of brain waves in the individual persons and also synchronization of movement, brain waves, and speech of different persons – in particular the healer and the patient – takes place. neher (1962) argues that drumming with 4 to 7 beats per second is most effective to induce altered states of consciousness because it corresponds to the theta brain waves that do not occur in alert waking states. he assumes that this frequency range is used in traditional rituals in many cultures.

in shamanic rituals in Central nepal healers turn towards the patients and deliberately try to impose their rhythm on the patient. the process is similar to auditory driving that is also employed in Western psychology and medicine for various purposes, including diagnostic procedures.

Drum beating of a group of people who try to keep the same rhythm but are not completely successful, leads to a slight de-synchronisation that is called inherent patterns. modern music therapy is well aware of this fact that tradi-tional medicine in indigenous cultures have employed in healing procedures for thousands of years. At present, experiments are carried in order to gain more knowledge about this kind of music therapy.

last not least, singing, drumming, dancing, and rhythmical recitation of cer-tain words are also a method to get into contact with tutelary spirits and other non-material agents involved in the illness causing events. the ways of connect-ing to a spiritual world are a representation of the culture specific order of the cosmos. Directing patients’ rhythmical movements, recitations of healing words, and encourage them to speak out themselves, also with the voice of another be-ing, are techniques central to spirit possession rituals.

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Recitations and dialoguesthe shamans’ songs and recitations during the healing rituals are very poetic and often trigger strong emotions in the patients and other persons present. in an attempt to make the illness causing spirit reveal its identity and history the spirit’s suffering, for which he need not feel any shame, is addressed. Whatever may have happened, now the spirit will find relief if it only comes and fulfils its duties.

1. Inviting the illness causing spirit

After invoking the tutelary spirit and a number of deities by drumming and singing the shaman turns toward the patient and requests the illness causing spirit to recount the events that have brought about the suffering through the mouth of the patient. Although several facts are already known, the questioning during the nocturnal ritual starts from the beginning once again.

Wake up, ariseCome opening up and making every limb of Bal Kumari3 shakeDon’t feel worriedWe will play together and stay togethermany might have hit youmany might have thrashed you, my darling childYour heart might have torn into shredsDon’t feel worriedCome over Bal Kumari’s bodyCome over heretell me who you areYou may feel hungryYou may feel thirstyDon’t feel sadi will give you food to eat and clothes to weari will serve 84 delicious dishesWake up, arisetell me who you arei am calling you today, this auspicious dayCome moving along and opening up all parts of your bodyopen up the 32 rooms4 and come here moving along

3 name of the patient4 in tibetan culture the 32 rooms symbolize the 32 different kinds of substances the human

body consists of.


i will give you a gold ornament to wear around your headi will give you a golden ring to put in your nosei will give you a pair of pendants to be hung from your earlobesWake up, ariseopen your heart wide and come alongmy dear child, break the iron locks and come forwardtell us your nameWhy do you worryWhy are you disappointedYou have to talk with meDiscuss things with meCome and sit with me

the ritual is the special time during which a turn of events is possible and likely. Whose heart would not be touched by the intensive attention of the sha-mans? Who would not be happy about the promised food and clothes? Who would not let himself be seduced by golden jewels, a nose ring and earrings? “Do not cry, my dear child!” upon hearing these tender words many patients begin to talk about their misery. the poetic songs cause the symbolic acts to become more deeply embedded in the emotional reality of the affected persons. the aes-thetic performances of the shamans are very important. only one who knows how to sing, dance and play is considered a good shaman. oppitz (1989: 73) says that a shamanic séance is a performance in and of itself. the connection with the tutelary spirit – and subsequently with various deities – lends the shaman the power and inspiration for his or her dramatic representations (schröder 1955).

2. Giving a substitute

one of the core scenes of the shamanic healing rituals is the exchange of the patient’s life with the offerings given to the illness causing spirit. the following recitation is part of the session for a young man suffering from stomach prob-lems, dizziness and anxiety that could not be cured by Western type medicine. Because of that he has also consulted a shaman in his locality who has diagnosed that a spirit from the cremation ground is bothering the patient and to make the medicine work a shamanic healing ritual has to be performed.

the time has come to say goodbye, my dearYou are given such a grand feasttake your food and go back to your placeFor seven days and seven nights stay and play at the crossroadYou will not be destroyed

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You are given food that is enough for seven monthsClothes are also givenYou will be given a place to liveeat and play for seven nightsAnd if you find some fat guy go with himnow i give you 84 delicacies5

sweets, fruit, meat and fish are prepared for youFrom the earliest time such kinds of food have been giventhe same things are given to you nowAt the time of departingWithout any worry leave this boy nowClearing all parts of his body from head to toeGuru is giving everything you needAfter eating and drinking you go awaynow you have to leave, my deartake the 84 delicacies and go awaytake a head for a headA leg for a leginstead of this man take a substituteAnd go to your own placei am exchanging a head for a headA life for the life of this young manCome moving to the head of the golden birdCome moving to the body with a true promisethe hair are given for the hairAre given as a substituteA head for a head with a heartfelt invitationForehead for foreheadeyebrow for eyebrowA substitute is given by the guruear for earCheek for cheekeye for eyenose for noselips for lipsteeth for teethtongue for tongue

5 in nepal people speak about 84 delicacies that symbolize everything good someone can be pampered with.


throat for throatshoulder for shoulderDo not run away before it is finishedCome sitting on the head of the golden birdWith a true promise

During this recitation the offerings are taken from the leaf plates where have been prepared and moved along a five coloured thread that connects the pa-tient’s head with a clay figure that has been formed to represent the patient and thereby serves as a new dwelling place for the illness causing spirit.

3. The promise

Before the powers that brought about the suffering are dismissed, they have to promise that they will leave for good and do not return to the same patient ever again. the repeated declarations are meant to convince the participants that at the end of the healing ritual the illness will definitely be terminated. Although the food is intended for the hungry spirit, it is also offered to the witch in order to placate her. When the blood sacrifice has finally been accepted as a substitute for the patient, neither the spirit nor the witch may lay claim to the patient and must leave her alone forever. the fact that the symbolic food is offered to the spirit as well as to the witch once again indicates the unclear separation of the forces that are responsible for the illness and who both speak through the pa-tient’s mouth in the following dialogue.

shAmAness: What is the time? Is it eleven o’clock?seConD shAmAn: It is twelve o’clock.PAtient’s husBAnD: It is the right time.shAmAness: Are you feeling sleepy?DAGmAr: No, no!shAmAness: What to do? It is my karma to bear difficulties. Other women have

already eaten and are asleep.neiGhBour: Doing such a service cannot be taken as burden.PAtient: Doing service is a great merit.shAmAness: Put some hair there, too. It is a symbol, a substitute. You have to

give a little.shAmAness’ husBAnD (looking at the clay figure that has been formed as

a substitute and a new place to live for the illness-causing spirit): You have been made very pretty.

PAtient: Again he is teasing me!shAmAness: Now, let us not make it late.

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PAtient: Give me to eat and send me away nicely.shAmAness: Make a promise that you will attack her and her family only when

there is full moon and dark moon in the same day.PAtient: Yes, I promise.shAmAness: When the sun becomes earth then only I will touch her.PAtient: I promise.shAmAness: Say that you will only touch her when the sky and the underworld

meet.PAtient: I won’t touch her, I won’t touch her.shAmAness: Make a promise 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 times.PAtient: I promise 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 times.shAmAness: Now I will sacrifice a life and take it to the door. Do you accept it

or not? I touch the black bir with my sole and the masan with my big toe. Do you recognize me or not?

PAtient: Yes, I know you.shAmAness: How many mantras do you have?PAtient: I do not have any mantra.6

shAmAness: If I ever find you here again, I will not spare you. If you do not keep your promise, I will make you shit and urinate in one place and make you crippled.

PAtient: I am going, I am going …

the sacrificial animal and 84 delicacies are led along the thread to the clay figure set on a leaf plate. the patient’s body is repeatedly beaten with the rooster to entice the spirit. then the tray is carried out to the riverbank, the spirit’s old as well as new abode. outside, the rooster’s head is torn off, so that the blood trickles over the decorated clay figure. the animal’s head remains outside on the leaf plate, while the body is taken inside where it is cooked and eaten. only the patient herself is not allowed to eat of it, for the rooster was sacrificed in exchange of her life.

With ashes three lines are drawn across the path leading back to the house, for it is thought that the spirit is unable to cross these lines. those persons who have participated in the sacrifice at the riverbank are sprinkled with water be-fore entering the house as a symbolic cleansing so that they cannot bring the dark, dangerous powers of the night inside.

6 the number of mantras someone can use is seen as sign of power. Without any mantra the witch is subdued.


Social dramanot only the elaboration of the different parts, but also the healing ritual in its entirety has a special effect on the persons involved as well as on the spec-tators. According to turner (1982: 114), the social drama represented in the ritual corresponds to Aristotle’s description of tragedy in his Poetics: „We have laid down that tragedy is an imitation of a complete, i.e. whole, action, possess-ing a certain magnitude. (there is such a thing as a whole which possesses no magnitude.) A whole is that which has a beginning, a middle and an end. A be-ginning is that which itself does not follow necessarily from anything else, but some second thing naturally exists or occurs after it. Conversely, an end is that which does itself naturally follow from something else, either necessarily or in general, but there is nothing else after it. A middle is that which itself comes af-ter something else, and some other thing comes after it. Well-constructed plots should therefore not begin or end at any arbitrary point, but should employ the stated forms.“ (Aristotle, english translation 1996: 13).

the same structure can be found in the nocturnal spirit possession rituals of nepal. in the first part7 the illness-causing spirit is called upon to reveal his or her identity and relate past events: “Who are you? Why are you causing such suffering? Who sent you?” in the middle part of the ritual the psychosocial con-flicts that lie at the root of the illness are discussed. in the final part of the ritual drama the illness-causing powers must promise to leave the patient, sacrifices are given and the spirit is driven out.

A pattern with unspecific contents is performed throughout the nocturnal rituals and the personal problems of the sick person are expressed within the basic structure. the correspondence to the individual situation is sometimes stronger and sometimes less so. But also when the identities and events of eve-ryday reality are not obvious, simply following the basic pattern will lead to the alleviation of the suffering. Aristotle emphasizes that the function of the poet is not to say what has happened, but to say the kind of thing that would happen, i.e. what is possible in accordance with probability or necessity Aristotle (1996: 16).

the 'stories' underlying the ritual performance represent the structure and dynamics of a society. it is likely for a married or widowed woman who has moved to her husband’s house to have problems with his elder relatives. like-wise, it is probable that a man – and therefore also his wife – will encounter difficulties when dividing up the family property. And it is possible and likely that conflicts involving envy and guilt will develop with poorer neighbours or

7 the invocation of the tutelary spirits and deities must precede the questioning of the spir-it. At the end of the ritual these powers are dismissed. the special framework that is thereby created distinguishes the ritual from drama on a profane stage.

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members of an extended family. therefore the basic structure and plots of spirit possession rituals match more or less the individual problems of all the patients whose sufferings are due to psychosocial conflicts.

the social drama and its enactment in a ritual influence the way in which conflicts are experienced. According to Victor turner (1982) there is an interde-pendent relationship between social dramas and genres of cultural performance. life, after all, is as much an imitation of art as the reverse. regarding a story of the ethnic group of the ndembu about a special bracelet he notes that “just as the story itself still makes important points about the stresses between sex- and age-roles, and appears to be an emic generalization, clothed in metaphor and involving the projection of innumerable specific social dramas generated by these structural tensions, so does it feed back into the social process, providing it with a rhetoric, a mode of employment, and a meaning.” (turner 1982: 72). Furthermore, if the suggested solutions contained in the ritual’s basic structure are followed appropriately, the suffering will be alleviated.

ReferencesAristotle (english translation) 1996. Poetics. london: Penguin.Berger, P. and luckmann, t.1980. Die gesellschaftliche Konstruktion der Wirklichkeit: Eine

Theorie der Wissenssoziologie. Frankfurt: Fischer.Bista, D. B. 1967. People of Nepal. Kathmandu: ratna Pustak Bhandar.Carstairs, G.m. 1958. some problems of psychiatry in patients from alien cultures. Lan-

cet 1: 1217–1220.Crapanzano, V. 1980. Tuhami. Portait of a Moroccan. Chicago: the university of Chicago

Press.eigner, D. 1999. Die Kraft der Götter. tamang schamanentum in nepal. in A. schenk

and Ch. rätsch (eds) Theorien des Schamanentums. Schamanen, Heiler, Medizinleute im Spiegel des westlichen Denkens, 177–187. Curare sonderband 13. Berlin: VWB.

eigner, D. 2001. Ritual, Drama, Imagination. Schamanische Therapie in Zentralnepal. Wien: Wiener universitätsverlag.

evans-Pritchard, e. 1978. Hexerei, Orakel und Magie bei den Zande. Frankfurt: suhrkamp Verlag.

michl, W. D. 1976. notes on the jhankri of Ath hajar Parbat/Dhaulagiri himalaya. in J.t. hitchcock and r.l. Jones (eds) Spirit possession in the Nepal Himalayas, 153–164. new Delhi: Vikas,

neher, A. 1962. A physiological explanation of unusual behaviour in ceremonies involv-ing drums. Human Biology 34: 151–160.

oppitz, m. 1989. Kunst der Genauigkeit. Wort und Bild in der Ethnographie. münchen: trickster.

Pfeiffer, W. 1991. Wodurch wird ein Gespräch therapeutisch? Zur kulturellen


Bedingtheit psychotherapeutischer methoden. Psychotherapie, Psychosomatik, Med-izinische

Psychologie 3(4): 93–154.schröder, D. 1955. Zur struktur des schamanismus. Anthropos 50: 848–881.turner, V. 1982. From ritual to theatre. The seriousness of human play. new York: PAJ

Publications.Wiemann-michaels, A. 1994. Die verhexte Speise. Eine ethnopsychosomatische Studie über

das Depressive Syndrom in Nepal. Frankfurt: Peter lang europäischer Verlag der Wis-senschaften.



Diana Riboli

Inadvertent art. Icons, music and dance in Chepang (Nepal) and Semang-Negrito (Peninsular Malaysia) shamanism

the aim of this work is to discuss the legitimacy of using concepts mainly as-sociated with eurocentric cultures, such as ‘art’ and ‘artistic creation’ to refer to shamanic complexes.

Based on the research conducted initially among the Chepang of Central and southern nepal and currently among semang-negrito groups of Peninsular ma-laysia, i will try to show that shamanic audio-visual representations do not re-spond – at least in primis- to aesthetic needs, but are primarily intended for communication with other-than-human persons (hallowell 1960; harvey 2005) and other worlds.

one of the objectives of works of art is preservation, and therefore the ability to stand the test of time. in contrast, the drawings created by Chepang shamans on the floor using colored powders or the ritual objects used by the semang-negrito during rituals, are entirely ephemeral and cease to exist with the end of the ceremony. A work of art represents the will of an artist to communicate his/her thought and feelings to mankind, whereas shamanic representations do not address the human sphere, but constitute the principal means of communi-cation with the non human world.

shamans, similarly to all participants in a shamanic séance, do not attribute any symbolic meaning to what we would call artistic creations. music, song, dance, and drawings in particular do not symbolize the supernatural, but – in the course of a ceremony- acquire a life of their own, becoming the ‘doors’ that allow the divine beings to enter and communicate with the human world. these doors must be closed at the end of a séance in order to restore the balance be-tween the various spheres. For this reason, immediately after the animal sacri-

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fice, Chepang shamans dance and quickly erase the drawings on the ground to block any entry to the human world (riboli 1995: 84–85).

if the Western term art is to be used to refer to these shamanic creations, it should be noted that this form of ‘art’ has not consciously or deliberately been conceived as such.

Generally, in the culture of the Chepang of Central and southern nepal what our eurocentric perception would define as ‘artistic representation and expres-sion’ do not aim to exclusively satisfy aesthetic needs. the only visual depictions occur during shamanic ceremonies and can be made only by the shamans them-selves, called pande in Chepang language.

regarding music, in instances of non religious festival, the Chepang play in-struments and melodies, which belong to a wider nepalese tradition. the only musical instrument exclusively linked with their culture is the ring, the shamanic drum. in fact, the ring is much more than a simple musical instrument and it is considered a living entity (riboli 2000: 95–111). it is constructed following a complex process: first of all, a neophyte shaman must receive dreams in which he/she is given a clear indication about the location of the right tree in the for-est. After the dream, the future pande goes to the woods accompanied by an ex-perienced shaman who will follow the entire process from the felling of the tree, to the sacrifice of the goat which will provide the skin for the membrane, until the final ceremony wherein the ring will get a new life after the double death of the tree and the animal. the entire process is considered to be very dangerous and the pande are not allowed to make any mistake. Before cutting the tree, the experienced shaman communicates with an other-than-human person by way of song. this being, in the form of a small female bird (Chiperkala), in turn, of-fers her support and assistance. A red resin should come out from the trunk of the tree. the red resin is considered to be the blood of the plant, similar to the blood flowing from the neck of the goat after the sacrifice.

the pande say that, because of these two deaths, the drum is born ‘dead’ and a special ceremony is needed to call back both the soul of the tree and of the goat, in order to give a new life to the drum. From that moment onward, the ring is considered to be a living being and the two souls –that of the tree and that of the goat- unite with the shaman’s soul, who is unable to perform a cer-emony without his/her drum.

As noted above, music and specific drawings are an integral part of ceremo-nies since they both serve as a means of communication with cosmic spheres. each other-than-human being as well as every cosmic zone is expressed by a spe-cific rhythm and music, which represent the main means of communication be-tween the human and non human worlds.

in the course of most of the ceremonies, Chepang pande also draw figures on the floor, mainly using colored powders. these icons can be of two types: rep-

173Inadvertent art. Icons, music and dance in Chepang (Nepal) and Semang-Negrito...

resentations of supernatural beings, or some kind of cosmic maps which also show the shaman’s journey to the skies or to the underworld to the public. in the first case, the pande draws the image of an other-than-human person held responsible for some problem –mostly illness- which affects the human world.

By eurocentric criteria these kinds of representations could be considered as abstract works of art. however, this perception is totally different from that of the shamans. According to their view, these are realistic icons of beings they meet during their journeys to other cosmic spheres. Actually, these are consid-ered extremely realistic representations, which can be seen only during shaman-ic séances. During my fieldwork, i asked a pande to draw the same other-than-human person he had drawn the night before on the floor during a ceremony on paper. he drew a very realistic, albeit quite childish, image – by Western stand-ards- but then he warned me that ‘this was not the realistic representation’, as the true one cannot be seen during normal daily life, due to the fact that the real image can function as a call, attracting dangerous beings to the human world.

in the same way, the cosmic maps the pande draws during ceremonies, which seem to us to be a repetition of geometric motifs, simultaneously represent a real map and a cosmic zone for the Chepang. the shaman’s soul carefully fol-lows the paths. What we perceive as a simple triangle or a square with grains of rice in the middle is recognized by the Chepang as a supernatural being’s resi-dence.

these cosmic icons cancel the space-time limits and the image is not just a representation of another reality; it becomes an alternative one. During a shamanic séance the whole cosmos can be contained in the limited space of a Chepang house. in the course of a ceremony, concepts such as ‘big’, ‘small’, ‘visible’, ‘invisible’, ‘human’ and ‘non human’ do not have any meaning. For ex-ample, the pande place eggs on the lines of the drawings, so that their soul can find a safe refuge in them, in case of danger. the shaman’s body remains visible, but the soul travels in other worlds as vast and infinite, as an egg. the image becomes reality.

these icons attract the other-than-human persons coming from the skies or the underworld. somehow they become the doors through which these beings enter the human world. the pande believe that these beings, attracted by their image, by the music of the ring and by the chants, enter the human level using the drawings and attend the ceremonies sitting on their images. Because of this belief, the blood offerings after the animal sacrifices, are poured on the lines of the drawings.

however, at the end of the ceremony, the pande must shut the door to the other worlds because the human and other-than-human spheres must be sepa-rated in order to restore the balance. to shut the door, the drawings must be erased. Because of the peculiarities of the drawings, the shamans cannot simply

174 Diana Riboli

erase the lines using their hands. they have to use another form of artistic ex-pression (defined as such by our standards), namely dancing. While doing this, the pande quickly erase the lines of the drawing, relegating the other-than-hu-man beings to their realms.

From this brief description it is quite clear that shamanic audio-visual repre-sentations are the main means of communication with other realities. somehow they become a ‘language’, relaying concepts and perceptions quite different from Western expressions.

the case of the semang-negrito groups of Peninsular malaysia serves as a perfect example to demonstrate my point regarding the fluidity of the notion of what constitutes ‘Art’, as well as providing unique insight into the worldview of this group.

their belief systems are shamanic and particularly linked with the realm of the pluvial forest (endicott 1979, riboli 2008). the forest is perceived as a per-fect, pure and sacred world which gives its creatures whatever they need: shelter, food, medicinal plants and, of course, ‘beauty’. For the semang-negrito cultures, whatever belongs to the forest is beautiful, sacred and represents what we would define ‘work of art’. Batek and Jahai men and women (the two semang-negrito groups i am studying) feel a brotherhood with the flora and fauna and the sha-mans are believed to have the ability to change their human form into plants and animals (riboli 2009).

Because of the sacredness and perfection attributed to the forest and its crea-tures, human creations are considered significantly ‘inferior’. For this reason, all the sacred objects, ornaments and even musical instruments used in the course of a ceremony come from the pluvial jungle. each time they are made on the spot and their life –as we have already seen when examining the case of the Chepang – is limited to the duration of the ceremony.

Plants and flowers, connected with the divine, play a fundamental role in semang-negrito shamanism as well as in their normal everyday life. Among the Jahai and the Batek- women often walk for hours in the forest, looking for rare flowers and leaves, which they use as body and hair ornaments. the link between the flowers and the supernatural realm is made possible through their perfume (endicott and endicott 2008). smells are particularly important in these cultures and many taboos are connected to them. in particular, the iras-cible lord of thunder is believed to be particularly sensitive to odors (lye 2005).

During ceremonies, all participants must adorn their bodies and hair with flowers and leaves. shamans, as well as those attending, do not have a particu-lar costume but they must ‘wear’ the jungle somehow. Before the séance starts, the women spend hours making ornaments from flowers and leaves which will be worn by the participants before taking part in the ceremonial dances. even


Fig. 3. Jahai women playing bamboos (bulu) during a ceremony (Peninsular Malaysia 2008)

Fig. 1. The Chepang pande Narcing using his drum during a divination (Nepal 1996)

Fig. 2. Chepang cosmic drawing, representing the Underworld (Nepal 1995)

176 Diana Riboli

the musical instruments, which are manufactured on the spot, are usually fresh bamboo canes of different length and diameter which the women beat on a piece of wood placed in front of them. shamans do not use any musical instrument and, during ceremonies, generally hold a bunch of fresh leaves in their hand, which they move rhythmically, following the bamboos’ rhythm.

music and dance are necessary elements in shamanic ceremonies and repre-sent a ‘language’ used by humans to communicate with the pluvial forest and with the other-than-human beings. it is a language considered to be more ap-propriate and surely more beautiful in comparison to the everyday, human lan-guage. the jungle and its flora play a very important role also in shamanic chants (riboli 2011). shamans, called hala’ in Batek and Jahai language, in the course of their lives receive therapeutic songs in dreams. Dreams are considered to be quite similar to the trance state. in altered states of consciousness the hala’ often experience a transformation into plants or animals, feeling enabled to communi-cate with all the creatures. the therapeutic songs are strictly personal, different from shaman to shaman and the texts i have had the opportunity to listen to, make continuous references to the names of plants and flowers. even the sim-ple repetition of these names, immediately gives the hala’ extraordinary powers.

to this point of my research, i have not recorded any names of animals in therapeutic chants, which can probably be attributed to the fact that names of dangerous animals are taboo and should not be pronounced while in the jungle, as they could function as a call.

songs are the principal means of communication between shamans and the other-than-human world. As stated above, it is an exclusive language, therefore the text and the rhythms are not meant to please human beings. most of the therapeutic chants are secret or, at best, can be listened to by no more than three people at time. in 2005 i had the good fortune to work with the oldest and most respected Batek hala’ –macang- a few months before he died. During the period i spent with him in the jungle, macang sang for me a few times and also allowed me to record few of his therapeutic chants, always cautioning me that i would never have permission to play them in front of more than three people. in all the songs he received during his very long life, i noted a repetition of names of plants: wild lemon, bamboo, rattan, fruit trees and so on. According to the hala’, the combination of these names with the related rhythms he received in dreams, were able to immediately invoke altered states of consciousness during which he was able to fly above the pluvial forest, reaching very secret and sacred places.

it is important to highlight the fact that for the semang- negrito the sha-manic journey does not take place in other cosmic zones, but in the forest it-self. Actually, they do not need sacred objects or temples, as the entire cosmos is basically divided between the forest and the world outside. the entire jungle


is imbued with religious significance as well as its creations are sacred objects, the only distant other-than-human person being the lord of thunder who is of course connected with the rain and rivers. According to Batek and Jahai cultures this being is not particularly interested in human kind. Actually his role is that of a punisher, who can send terrible storms, especially in the event that someone violates one of the many taboos. nobody is sure about the place where this being lives. many Batek and Jahai believe he probably resides on the top of a mountain in the jungle, while others think he lives in the sky. in the forest there are no evil spirits. there can be dangerous creatures –tigers and elephants for example- but, in any case, they are never believed to be evil or connected to black magic.

Whatever is connected with what we could call artistic creations –dance, mu-sic, song etc.- belongs to the world of nature and to the forest in particular. the world outside it is perceived as a very problematic sphere where everything, even food is polluted, potentially dangerous, or even harmful. the rainforest is the heart of the semang-negrito cultures, while the world outside is the world of the dominant muslim culture of the country which retains the ‘wildness’, almost synonymous with ‘black magic’ and ‘evil’.

Besides the fact that nowadays a certain decline can be observed, shamanic ceremonies and their contingent artistic expressions are still taking place, albeit mainly in the forest far away from cultivated lands, villages, and cities. the ar-tistic ‘skills’ of the Batek and Jahai shamans and of all the participants in a sha-manic ceremony, are never shown outside the forest and very rarely to people not belonging to these groups. most of the time the hala’ act totally alone, sing-ing, dancing and traveling in the forest without the need of other participants. this seems to be the best case to emphasize what i argued in the beginning of this paper: shamanic art and artistic expressions are a far cry from what we call ‘art’ and ‘artistic expressions’ and we should probably be more careful when us-ing terminologies so deeply linked to eurocentric concepts.

shamanic drawings, dances, chants, music, are neither meant for human be-ings, nor to stand the test of time. if we want to call them ‘art’, we should at least remember that they are ‘inadvertent’ art, at least by Western standards. in fact, they are the only possible means of communication between the human and other-than-human spheres.

Referencesendicott, K. 1979. Batek Negrito religion: The world-view and rituals of a hunting and gath-

ering people of Peninsular Malaysia. oxford: Clarendon Press.endicott, K. and endicott, K. 2008. The Headman was a Woman. The gender egalitarian

Batek of Malaysia. long Grove: Waveland Press.

178 Diana Riboli

hallowell, i.A. 1960. ojibwa ontology, Behavior, and World View. in s. Diamond (ed.) Culture in history: Essays in honor of Paul Radin, 18–49. new York: Columbia univer-sity Press.

harvey, G. 2005. Animism: Respecting the living world. Kent town, Australia: Wakefield Press.

lye, t. P. 2000. Forest, Bateks, and degradation: environmental representation in a changing world. Southeast Asian Studies 38(2): 165–184.

lye, t. P. 2005. Changing pathways: Forest degradation and the Batek of Pahang, Malaysia. Petaling Jaya, malaysia: strategic information research Development.

riboli, D. 1995. shamanic visual art in nepal. in tae-gon Kim and m. hoppàl (eds) Sha-manism in performing arts, 77–88. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó.

riboli, D. 2000. Tunsuriban. Shamanism among the Chepang of Central and Southern Nepal. Kathmandu: mandala Book Point.

riboli, D. 2002. trances of initiation, incorporation and movement: three different ty-pologies of the shamanic trance. Shaman 10: 143–159.

riboli, D. 2008. Continuation of shamanism among the semang-negrito of Peninsular malaysia. in m. hoppál and Z. simonaki (eds) Shamans unbound, 53–61. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó.

riboli, D. 2009. shamans and transformation in nepal and Peninsular malaysia. in e. Franco (ed.) Yogic perception, meditation and altered states of consciousness, 347–367. Vienna: oAW.

riboli, D. 2011. ‘We play in the black jungle and in the white jungle’. the forest as a rep-resentation of the shamanic cosmos in the chants of the semang negrito (Peninsular malaysia) and the Chepang (nepal). Shaman 19: 153–168.



Hee Sook Lee-Niinioja

Artistic expressions of the visual language on Sami ritual drums

the sami world was inhabited with supernatural powers, where sami people searched for consultation. Rota, the god of death, has the most powerful au-thority in his underworld, the residence of sami ancestors. his riding a horse is described in most sami drums whose segmented pattern has three levels – gods, people, and a paradise underworld. As a mediator between invisible spirits and people, shamans take their journeys by using different drums. this paper discusses of artistic expressions of the visual language on 71 surviving drums: a relationship between god (Rota)/ people (shaman)/ offering (reindeer) to un-derstand a mental map of the sami society.

SHAMANIC WORLD VIEW AND SHAMAN AS ITS MEDIATORthe sami are a native people constituting an ethnic minority in scandinavia (norway, sweden, Finland) and russia, preserving their own terrain, inhabit-ants, and tongue. sápmi, the living area of the sami, stretches from idre in the swedish southern Dalarna to the Arctic ocean in northern norway and the Kola Peninsula in russia. the sami have resided from coast to forest since the remov-al of the inland ice. the total population is around 70,000 based on the swed-ish sami parliament (norway: 40,000, sweden: 20,000, Finland: 6,000, russia: 2,000). Although the earliest reference of the sami traces to the roman histo-rian tacitus’ Germania (98 AD), the important scandinavian source is othere’s story (890) of King Alfred of england, where name “finnas” and other attrib-utes such as trapper, fowler, fisherman, and reindeer appear. moreover Historia Norvegiae and the stories of the sagas validated the image painted by othere. in dealing with the archdioceses of hamburg and Bremen, Adam of Bremen refers the earliest missionaries to the sami. the Danish historian saxo Gram-

180 Hee Sook Lee-Niinioja

maticus’ Gesta Danorum (c.1200) mentions the sami skill at skiing and archery, using the term “finni (skiing finni)” and the two lapplands to the Finnmark (Fig. 1).

According to the sami viewpoint, sha-manism is beliefs and practices of com-munication with the spirit world, and the sami believes that the world was inhabited with invisible spirits, which owned super-natural powers, defending all living ones and place in nature. moreover, all life has dualism on the spiritual and physical lev-els. A spiritual world, where dead ancestors prolong to exist embraces the wholeness and perfection in opposition to the mate-rial world. in order to perform a flourish-ing hunting and fishing, sami people also searched for consultation from counsellors of these spirits, for example, rocks, cliffs, lakes, the migratory route, or whole moun-

tains. As the divine spirit is believed to watch over flora and fauna, they erected a cult (totem) and made collective or individual offering, particularly at the be-ginning of the hunting and fishing season. the residential tent or nearby was the commonest location to pray to the divine, and there were several sacred places in hunting and fishing areas. the most sacrificial animal was the reindeer, while the bear hunting was a religious celebration.

the fact that sami people had to collaborate with natural forces to sustain without destroying nature is attributed to an animistic, polytheistic view. this had impact on the sami culture and traditions towards harmony with nature and the requirement for the shaman. interpreted as “he or she who knows”, shamans (noaidi) are universally the conventional healers of turkic-mongolian areas of siberia and mongolia. they hold the multiple codes and articulate their meanings verbally, musically, artistically and in dance. they are well-informed of the culture of their community and act consequently to be understood by their inhabitant with confidence. Particularly, shamans’ mediations and communica-tions with the spirits involving the dead ancestors on behalf of the community are illustrated on their objects and symbols on amulets and drums.

in other words, shamans achieve knowledge and power by traversing the axis mundi through contacts with the spirit world, bringing them back. in addition to the care of souls, they heal people, conduct a sacrificial ceremony, maintain the

Fig. 1. A shaman with his rune drum in copper carving (Leem 1767)

181Artistic expressions of the visual language on Sami ritual drums

traditional anecdotes and songs, and predict fortune-telling. As an all-knowing person at major sacrifices, shamans were the vital figure in sami society. Chosen by the spirits, their primary obligation dealt with the spirit worlds, particularly the world of the dead. When people faced with famine on nature, or disease and troubles regarding a livelihood, or calamity situations in a family or society, sami people asked solutions through the shaman, because from a sami viewpoint, disease is considered as a disorder of the balance between the two souls and be-tween the two realms of reality.

the shaman in a spirit form departs from this physical world and enters into the other side, in order to restore harmony. he ascertains which offerings the gods demand for curing the disease. moreover, the ancestors are regarded to share in the conducts of sami peoples’ living, causing troubles or protecting their descendants and reindeer herds. travels of the shaman in and out of the spirit world were assisted by the drum which mediated the physical and spiritual worlds. the shaman with his spirits and drum was the most central figure to be a religious and spiritual leader in sami society.

ROTA: THE GOD OF DEATH(Fig. 2)Among a variety of gods and goddesses in sami religion, Rota has the most domi-nant authority. Being the god of death, he has his kingdom in the underworld (Jabmeaimo) where the sami ancestors reside. Rota demands a horse as sacrifice to travel to the land of the dead, and his riding a horse, a terrifying and disgust-ing creature, is described in the majority of sami drums.

nevertheless, the importance of other gods and goddess deserves atten-tions. the goddess Máttaráhkká and her three daughters, Sáráhkká, Uksáhkká, and Juoksáhkká have their own roles in the conception and birth. As the original mother and the god of deliveries, Máttaráhkká acquired the human soul from Ráddiáhkka, and made the body for the soul. she hands the soul over to her

Fig. 2. Motifs of Rota, shaman/drum, and reindeer (Manker 1971)


oldest daughter Sáráhkká, the most favourite guardian goddess of women who permits it in the womb to develop, helping the human into the world. Uksáhkká, the second daughter, guards the home and children with a responsibility for the mother from disease and infant’s growth. Juoksáhkká, the youngest daughter and boys’ goddess, can change a baby in the womb from female to male as well as takes care of the child’s growth.

moreover, representing as the god of vegetation and fertility, Veraldenolmmái is a symbol of luck for the reindeer, although Horagalles, the strongest, most vio-lent thunder god who controls weather in nature, is a minor fertility god too. Bieggaolmmái, the wind god, makes storms and bad weathers, and pushes the wind over the mountain. Leaibeolmmái, the hunting and forest god, rules over the animals, thus extraordinary ceremonies should take place before, during, and after the bear hunting. Above all, Beive, the sun god, is the most merciful and central position for the sami life, protecting the reindeer.

Sami drum and its applicationAn influential tradition with a drum has been kept in the sami spiritual rituals. the oldest identifying reference to the sami drums can be traced back to the late 12th century Historia Norvegiae, where the drum is depicted as a tiny vessel. in the History of Lapland (1674), Johannes schefferus includes the chapter of the magical ceremonies of the laplanders dealing with symbols (Fig. 3).

the drum has a sectioned pattern in three parts. the upper part level repre-sents gods, while the middle and the bottom illustrate respectively human-being and the paradise underworld (saivo) where the forefathers resided. An indicator (arpa), a ring or a triangular shape made of bone, was put on the membrane of the drum, sporadically with small rings. sometimes, the shape of a fish or rein-deer-bull or a bird is chosen. And the paintings on the membrane were executed by chewing bark from the alder which resembles blood. each drum was made with attention, and one drum could carry 150 symbols.

many functions can be listed in using drums: (1) to guide the daily life, (2) to attain knowledge about the future, (3) to cure disease, and (4) to which god one should do a sacrifice. in some places, every family had a drum, and fa-mous shamans possessed several drums and powerful helping spirits. By beat-ing the drum faster and faster, the shaman started his soul journey to the spir-itual world. As soon as he was entering into an ecstasy, he fell down on the ground, putting his drum on his back. in the dream, he encountered with his helping spirits for the consultation, although he could interpret how the indica-tor moved, and to where it pointed, due to his ability to reach any situation at will. he can leave the body and move to a spirit or a breath of wind in a trance;


he can change himself into a reindeer; he flies over the tree tops; he swims in the shape of a fish, etc. (Fig. 4).

in the 16th century, the reformation spread lutheranism outward from Ger-many and arrived to the scandinavian countries. When sami people had to em-brace Christianity, the Church directed persecutions at shamans and their drums, charging the sami ritual practices in association with the devil and witchcraft. the ancestor worship was a particular case. laws were written prohibiting the shamans and the other sami from the worship, and consequently, sami people had to abandon their drums for fear of persecutions. At the start of the 18th cen-tury, a drum was common in most households. in 1725, more than 20 drums were collected at Åsele market, and accordingly, the church burned most of the confiscated drums, thus 71 drums are recorded in preservation today. Ahlbäck and Bergman in The Sami Shaman Drum (1901: 29) claim:

"For the sami, the drums represented their threatened culture, the resistance against the Christian claim to exclusiveness, and a striving to preserve tradi-tional values – i.e. ‘the good’ that had to be saved. For the Church authorities, on the other hand, the drums symbolized the explicit nucleus of the elusive sami ‘paganism’ – i.e. ‘the evil’ that had to be annihilated".

Although the eradication of the shamans led their drums to be read and un-derstood difficult, some symbols display significant aspects of sami life, echoing their wishes in accordance with nature. the frequent location of the sun betrays its focus in sami culture, together with gods, goddesses, and humans. Among several animals, reindeer is the predominant on the southern sami drums; bears, wolves and birds in other areas. nevertheless, the involvement of non-sami symbols emerge on a few drums, such as on Christian drums, becoming a curious feature and witnessing the transit period of the sami conversion from shamanism to Christianity.

Fig. 3. A frame drum: left, a bowl drum: right, and its distribution (http://old.no/samidrum)


A combination of Rota-Shaman/Drum-Reindeerthis research investigates a relationship between god (Rota), people (shaman or Drum) and offering (reindeer) in the sami world. it seeks to verify how the visual expressions on existing sami drums can explain sami’s wishes for har-mony with their surroundings and nature. in order to do so, a combination of three pictorial signs (Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer) had to be assessed in 71 drums. As full definitions and meanings of all pictorial signs on the 71 drums are hardly achievable, and are disputable if there are, the researcher assessed them, based on (1) literary sources on sami, and (2) researcher’s observation trained in visual communications, hoping to acquire further information of the relationship between Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer at large. on this process, if any combination between them is found, the next assessment is to investigate what kind of a graphic diagram can appear. in this regard, shape (square, trian-gular, rectangular, etc.), a design element, is an indicator to solve this. Finally, interpretation to its finding is suggested (Fig. 5).

Before drawing a conclusion, a few preliminary findings from the 71 drums can shed light to our understanding as follow: (1) Rota (2) Combination of Rota-

Fig. 4. Frame drum (Manker 1965)1. Beive; 2. Leaibeolmmái; 3. Horagalles; 4. Hunter or Leaibeolmmái; 5. Elk; 6. Bieggaolmmái; 7–9. Church man; 10. Prediction place; 11. Boat offer; 12. Mirrored boat?; 13. Reindeer; 14. Troll’s shot; 15. Beaver barrage; 16. Elk and bear; 17. Leaibeolmmái – rain and snow?; 18. Wild reindeer; 19. Weather and forest; 20. Wild reindeer; 21. Forest, game between elk and bear. Or underworld; 22–23. Forest’s council; 24. Goat; 25. Christianised village with goat; 26. Church; 27–28. Church and people; 29. Death with a coffin; 30–32. Rota or horse rider; 33. Jabmeaimo or the death man, Rota or his wife?; 34. Jabmeaimo; 35. Servants of Jabmeaimo; 36. Grave?; 37. Sáráhkká?; 38. Uksáhkká, Juoksáhkká; 39. Child; 40. Reindeer herd; 41. Fish netting and boat; 42. Residence with four tents; 43. Njalla (meat shed); 44. Squirrel forest


Frame drum 1 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 2 2 5 Position upper/right lower/right middle/center

1

Frame drum 3 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 6 Position upper/right upper/left upper/right

3

Frame drum 10 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 3 8 Position upper/right lower/middle middle/center

10

Frame drum 11 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 8 Position upper/right lower/left middle/center

11

Frame drum 14 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 3 2 3 Position upper/right middle/middle middle/center

14

Frame drum 15 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 5 Position upper/right upper/right middle/center

15

Frame drum 17 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 3 Position upper/right middle/middle lower/center

17

Frame drum 19 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 2 Position upper/right middle/left middle/center

19


21

Frame drum 22 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 1 Position upper/right middle/middle middle/center

22

Frame drum 25 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 3 2 Position upper/right middle/right middle/center

25


26


27


28


30


31


33

Frame drum 34 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 1 Position upper/right middle/middle middle/left

34


37


38


40

Bowl drum 51 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 1 1 1 Position lower/middle middle/middle lower/left

51

Frame drum 1 rota shaman/drum reindeer Number 2 2 5 Position upper/right lower/right middle/center

Fig. 5. The 22 drums in combination of three elements (Rota, Shaman/Drum, Reindeer)


shaman/Drum-reindeer (3) Diagram of Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer, and (4) interpretation.

(1) Rotaof 71 drums, 39 have a rota motif or a similar one which describes the rota. of 42 frame drums (including ring frame and flanged frame drums), 32 have

a rota motif or a similar one which describes the rota. of 29 bowl drums, 7 have a rota motif or a similar one which describes the

rota. south drums have more rota motifs than north drums. south drums have traditional rota motifs, compared to a similar one in north

drums. some drums have two rota motifs in a drum, either traditional or combina-

tion of rota and similar ones. As some motifs in north drums cannot be fully identified, they could be ex-

tremely stylised rota motifs.(2) Combination of Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer

rota shaman/drum reindeer rota/shaman/reindeer qn horizontal vertical qn horizontal vertical qn horizontal vertical

F1 S 2 U R 2 L R 5 M C F3 S 1 U R 1 U L 6 U R F10 S 1 U R 3 L C 8 M C F11 S 1 U R 1 L L 8 M C F14 S 3 U R 2 M C 3 M C F15 S 1 U R 1 U R 5 M C F17 T 1 U R 1 M C 3 L C F19 T 1 U R 1 M L 2 M C F21 S 2 U R 1 L L 4 M C F22 T 1 U R 1 M C 1 M C F25 S 1 U R 3 M R 2 M C F26 T 1 U R 1 L C 4 M C F27 S 1 U R 1 L L 8 M C F28 S 1 U R 2 L L 2 M C F30 S 2 U R 2 L C 5 M C F31 T 1 U R 2 L C 2 M C F33 T 1 U R 2 U R 5 M C F34 T 1 U R 1 M C 1 M L F37 T 1 U R 1 L C 4 M C F38 S 2 U R 3 L C 4 M C F40 S 1 U R 3 U R 5 M C B51 T 1 L C 1 M C 1 L L sum S13

T9 28 U21

L1 R21 C1

36 L11 M7 U4

C11 L6 R 5

88 M19 U1 L2

C19 L2 R1

Table 1. F(frame), B(bowl), S(square), T(triangle), U(upper), M(middle), L(lower), R(right),

C(centre), L(left)


of 42 frame and 28 bowl drums, 21 frame (1, 3, 10, 11, 14, 15, 17, 19, 21, 22, 25, 26, 27, 28, 30, 31, 33, 34, 37, 38, 40) and 1 bowl (51) drums have all three elements (Rota, shaman/Drum, reindeer).

(3) Diagram of Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer (shape: square, triangular, rec-tangular, etc)

A short introduction of shape is worthy to explain for the diagram of Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer, if there appears. to begin with, square, an attribute of the shape as a design element, points to the four ends of the compass in prehis-toric times. symbolically, it denotes the earth opposed to the circle of the heav-ens. square is an early existence and static perfection which God manifests in creation, and is the fixation of death, contrasted by the dynamic circle of life. in architectural symbolism, it represents the firm buildings of sedentary peoples, and signifies transcendent knowledge in sacred buildings. it is also a talismanic assurance of permanence and stability, and the mystical union of the four ele-ments in return to primordial simplicity. in Pythagorean thought, square sym-bolizes the soul.

regarding triangle, another attribute of the shape, Gestalt psychology claims that human attention is attracted by vertical and horizontal movements in tri-angle. the viewer will place them as a sign, interpreted by his physiological posi-tion in terms of vertical (force of gravity) and horizontal (standing level) direc-tion. if it is judged vertically on its apex, it obtains a direction-giving character with movement transferred from the vertical to the horizontal.

the triangle with horizontal base conveys an impression of stability and per-manence, while the reversed triangle has a more active character. in symbolism, triangle is the threefold nature of the universe (heavens/earth/man, body/soul/spirit). the equilateral triangle depicts completion. the upward-pointing trian-gle symbolises life, fire, masculinity, the spiritual world, and the trinity of love/truth/wisdom.

(4) interpretation (Figure 6)A combination of all three motifs

(Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer) was found in 22 drums, which were as-sessed by the shape thereafter. the re-sult shows preference of square (13) than triangle (9), suggesting a univer-sal idea of sami people’s wishes of sta-bilising harmony with nature and sur-roundings, due to being agricultural and sedentary people. moreover, the Fig. 6. Relationship between the three

elements


favourite position among the three motifs, Rota has his position at the upper/right level, while shaman /Drum is seen at the lower/centre. reindeer appears at the centre.

A question arises. “What does the position of reindeer (centre) between Rota (top) and sha-

man/Drum (bottom) imply, in terms of artistic expressions of the visual lan-guage on sami ritual drums? should reindeer be the central position as a sacri-ficial object for Rota, the god of death, who controls the underworld?”

if it is the case, sacrificial ceremonies using reindeer are undoubtedly re-quired by the shaman and his Drums, in order to tribute Rota for the sami’s harmony and peace in eternity.

Conclusionhistorically, the spectator guesses a latent connotation and yearns for an inter-pretation to all kind of objects. the more aesthetic excellence of its content to appearance is, the greater its symbolic value becomes worthy of worship. Ab-straction has dwelt on the human mental activity, thus reduced form is more memorable than an ordinary picture to meditation and association with the oc-cult. Creatures in nature have been applied to symbolic signs, and beasts were profoundly rooted in the human psyche, due to their archetypes of all instincts in material, spirituality, and cosmic powers. the gods are personified in animal figures appeared in egyptian gods’ head. even, Christ was described as the lamb of God, while the holy Ghost was visualised in a downward-flying dove. more-over, birds are associated with the “heavenly” and “earthly”, thus peacock’s fan is a sign of the sun, stars, and the eye of God.

however, for the representation in symbolism, serpent has a leading role in life and death among many beliefs across time and space. its circular shape sig-nifies perpetual recurrences; its skin of rebirth and immortality. interestingly, the serpent line has contributed to linear and area ornamentation in art history. in his The Analysis of Beauty (1753), the english painter William hogarth intro-duces the aesthetic concept of his precise serpentine line as ‘line of beauty’. he supposed to define the principles of beauty and grace, considering beautifying lines as the ideal sign of artistic craftsmanship. in this context, the art histo-rian Alois riegl in his famous Problems of Style: Formation for a History of Orna-ment (1893) argues that line is the primary tool of the artist, and decorative art is the application of line to solve ornamental problems. the term “beautiful” is bound up with the idea of organic undulating lines and with the art of classical Greece. logarithmic spirals enhance the dynamism of the curve, and are power-ful abstractions in symbolism.


moreover, among numerous pictorial signs, the cult of the sun seems the most extensive and ancient of all forms of worship. the circle as a key archetype in the human subconscious can be attributed to the sun as a life-giving force. its circular body and abstract rays propose the growth and decline of warmth. it can be credited to humans’ perceiving the circle as a life-giving force, and perhaps it is why nordic people celebrate the mid-summer as the longest day of the year. But please wait! it was the sami people who take care and adore the sun as an ultimate god for their life, even locating it at the centre in their drums.

Whatever explanations can be given to the pictorial signs, the findings of Rota-shaman/Drum-reindeer indicate that the sami are in favour of a stabilised and permanent relationship, testified by a square diagram within a serpent line at large. And sacrificial worships to their gods or ancestors are an ultimate duty. For this, sacred reindeers are a “must” for the rituals executed by the shaman and his drum.

Finally, as the basic yet strong identity, artistic expressions of the visual lan-guage are deliberate for identifying ownership or magic. And symbolic signs are the dominant means for delivering the hidden meanings of objects to which humans are attached. Probably, sami gods, goddess, and ancestors knew this secret beforehand, demanding their shamans and drums, in order to distribute their invisible blessings, protections, and warnings to their sami people. it is the sami’s intangible cultural heritage at most.

ReferencesAhlbäck, t. and Bergman, J. (eds) 1991. The Saami shaman drum: based on papers read at

the Symposium on the Saami Shaman Drum held at Abo, Finland, on the 19th–20th of Au-gust 1988. Abo: the Donner institute for research in religious and Cultural history.

Bäckman, l. and hultkrantz, Å. 1978. Studies in Lapp shamanism. stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell international

Cooper, J. C. 1978. An illustrated encyclopaedia of traditional symbols. london: thames and hudson.

hogarth, W. 1955. The analysis of beauty. With the rejected passages from the manuscript drafts and autobiographical notes. ed. J. Burke. oxford: Clarendon Press.

manker, e. 1938. Die lappische Zaubertrommel I-II. stockholm: Bokförlag Aktiebolaget thule.

manker, e. 1965. Nåidkonst: Trolltrummans Bildvärld. stockholm: häftad. manker, e. 1971. Samefolkets Konst. stockholm: Askild and Kärnekull. Jarving, stein 2004. sámi shamanism. Eutopia Adventure 16. Kjellström, r. and rydving h. 1988. Den samiska trumman. stockholm: nordiska mu-

seet.lehtola, V. P. 2002. The Sámi people: Traditions in transition. Aanar-inari: Kustannus-

Punsti.


meissner, r. 1921. Die Kenningar der Skalden. Bonn: Kurt schroeder. leem, K. 1767. Beskrivesle over Finnmarkens Lapper, deres Tungemaal, Levemaade og For-

rige Abgudsdyrkelse. Copenhagen.Pentikäinen, J. 1997. Die Mythologie der Saamen. Berlin: reinhold schletzer Verlag.riegl, A. 1992. Problems of style: Formation for a history of ornament. transl. e. Kain.

Princeton, nJ: Princeton university Press.siikala, A.-l. 1978. The rite technique of the Siberian Shaman. Folklore Fellows’ Commu-

nications 220. helsinki: suomalainen tiedeakatemia.storm, G. (ed.) 1880. Monumenta Historica Norwegiae. oslo: A. W. Brøgger.



Vesa Matteo Piludu

The ritual art and paraphernalia of the Nepalese jhankris and Tamang bombo

Ritual objects become “ethnic art”there are several private collections of nepalese shamanic objects in europe and in north America. the collectors buy single items or entire collection in nepal or from other collectors. nepalese shamanic objects are 'living a second life' abroad: they are appreciated by art lovers as 'object of art', valued for their esthetical value, presented in exhibitions and galleries to a variegate public interested in ethnic art. the catalogues of exhibition are officially presenting the objects as 'art'. An example is the title of the book and catalogue Art chamanique népalese-Nepalese Shamanic Art, published in 2007 by the Galerie Le Toit du Monde of Paris. sometimes in some artistic catalogues nepalese mask and statues are appreci-ated for their 'cubist' forms or some other aesthetical characteristic that remind a particular style of Western arts.

it is very difficult to obtain precise ethnographic information about the ob-jects of different private collections. obviously the jhankri or bombo (shamans) are not selling often their ritual objects personally, explaining their exoteric meaning to collectors or ethnographers. the collector Andrey tischenko stated that generally the villagers who sell the items are collecting them around their area and the memory of the shamans who build the paraphernalia or the exact ritual use of the object is lost. Dating the object is also quite complicate: it is necessary an accurate stylistic comparison. it is possible that an older phur-ba is tied to a newest drum.

Another problem is that the best scientific literature on nepalese shamanic traditions focused on the analysis of rituals and beliefs. Descriptions of dresses, drums and paraphernalia often lie on the 'background' of these studies. in few

192 Vesa Matteo Piludu

words we do not have a classic monograph on the typologies of nepalese sha-manic objects.

With all this limitations, it is possible to try to do an effort to describe some the basic meaning and ritual use of the objects of the collections. in the present article will try to analyse, following the objects of two collections:

– tamang objects of the Finnish collector susanna Aarnio, presented in an exhibition in the Finnish Pohjanmaa’s museum of Vaasa 20071

– the nepalese and tamang collection of the russian collector Andrey tisch-enko, presented in an exhibition in the tischenko Gallery in helsinki (2012–2013).

As most of the items are tamang, the present article is strongly focused of the tradition of the tamang bombos (shamans). A more general term to indicate the shamanic ritual specialist in nepal is jhankri: the word is sometimes used also by tamang. But all nepalese ethnic minorities have other native terms to indicate their specialists in shamanic healing. in nepal there is a large quantity of different shamanic traditions, but some of these shares some objects, symbols or beliefs. Peters (2007) stated that tamang bombos could have patients or ap-prentices of different ethnic origins, and that is an indicator of a common core of shamanic beliefs in nepal. however local or individual differences or varia-tions should not be underestimated, but valued. the structure of this article is based on the model offered by several articles and monographs written by hop-pál (hoppál 2010: 123–135).

The headgear, porcupine quills and peacock’s feathers(Figure 1)the headgears of the Aarnio and tischenko collections are basically of two types. the fist one is made only with porcupine quills. these can be used also as 'magi-cal arrows' and kept in a wooden cylindrical tube or on the tamang altar rise vessel called chene. the porcupine2, “a night-active animal, is said to 'search' in holes covered by dead leaves and under wood” (höfer 1994: 60). the quills, once activated by a mantra, become sparking projectiles send out to annihilate an en-emy or to light the way of the bombo searching for the enemy at night. the quills are also employed to counteract a particular type of contagious black magic (doi nemba), namely to detect and bring back the nail clipping or hairs from a person, which his enemy has stolen and hidden beneath a stone (höfer 1994: 60). in the Gyasumdo tradition, the quills are “shot” by the shaman and “said to light the

1 the name of the exhibition was Karhun kannoilla – samaanien jäljillä. 2 on the similar function of porcupine quills for shamanic specialists in other areas see mac-

donald 1976: 319 (Darjeeling).

193The ritual art and paraphernalia of the Nepalese jhankris and Tamang bombo

way during the search by sending sparks of flame (mumford 1989: 120). long quills could be used for curing certain kind of disease or for acupuncture. normal ones have also defensive powers: they drive away demons and protect the altar (müller-ebeling, rätsch and Bahadur shani 2002: 193) (Fig. 2).

the second type of headgear is made of peacock feathers. A tamang myth tells that the peacock feathers “come from a time after sorcery broke the rain-bow Bridge that connected heaven and earth. When the bridge broke the hu-mans became mortal and began to suffer. the daughter of the Cosmic mother/Father deity looked down at the suffering and felt compassion for humanity and its need for healing. she sent the peacock with its iridescent feathers that, when worn by the bombo, allowed the healer to create a temporary bridge to the spirit world and to get the healing humanity needed” (Pratt 2007: 485).

the peacock feathers are generally present also on altars, representing the art of flying (müller-ebeling, rätsch and Bahadur shani 2002: 193). Bumba jugs or water pitchers could be also decorated with fan-shaped peacock feathers. As the quills, the feathers of peacock are considered projectiles that pierce the en-

Fig. 1. Tamang bombo headgear with porcupine quills. Tischenko Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012

Fig. 2. Tamang bombo headgear with peacock feathers. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012


emies: “they can fly over long dis-tances in the air. Both the quills and the feathers are said to return into the chene vessel after having fulfilled their task” (höfer 1994: 61). there are also other variants: some head-gears are made with feathers of oth-er birds. Feather headdress are also common among the shamans of the turks of the Altai (hoppál 2011: 43).

The ritual costumethe ritual robe (jāmā) of the eastern tamang bombos is generally white, as the one of the Aarnio collection (Fig. 3).

its ankles are generally of nine pieces, measuring nine hāt, a length from elbow to finger tips (höfer 1994: 69). nine is a recurrent num-ber in many shamanic traditions, rep-resenting the nine levels of the sky. White symbolism seems to be con-nected to the heavenly sphere and to the tamang sky god Ghesar Gyalpo.

the bombo Bhirenda related his meeting with the supreme white divinity:

i climbed the nine steps and saw Ghesar Gyalpo at the top, sitting on his white trone. he was dressed in white and his face was all white. he had long white hair and his face was all white. he had long white hair and a white crown. he gave me milk to drink and told me i would attain much sakti to be used for the good of my people. (Peters 2007: 91).

White is also the color of the narling mendo, the sacred flower representing purity (Peters 2007: 95).

the colored tamang dress of the tishenko collection is from the area of helambu or low lang tang, in the northern part of Katmandu valley (Fig. 4).

Fig. 3. White robe of a Tamang bombo with rosaries and chains with bells. Aarnio Collection. Photo by Vesa Matteo Piludu, 2007


The rosaries and chainstwo rosaries (phrenma) and two chains with bells (syansayn rolmo) are generally worn forming four crosses on the chest and on the back of the tamang bombo. the tamang rosary is made with berries of the ruddrāche3 berries or the black ones of soap nut berries. the rosary of ruddrāche berries is used also by the fol-lowers of the old sect in tibet (höfer 1994: 69 and Waddell 1959: 209) and by shaiva ascetics.

the number of the depressions (muhk: 'face' or 'mouth') on each berry is connected to a particular symbolic value: one 'face' is sky, tree 'faces' is the four corners and five 'faces' the underworld. the rosary should be made of over one hundred beads, it should done following an ideal composition of different 'faces' and it must be 'empowered' in different ways when the bombo is dealing with different kind of supernatural beings. Counting the beads the bombo can call certain divinities or made prophecies (höfer 1994: 70).

3 Eleocarpus ganitrus or Eleocarpus sphaericus.

Fig. 4. Colored dress from the northern Katmandu valley. Tischenko Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012


the rosaries are also making sacred sounds when the bombo is shaking during the trance. their function is also protective and they are considered supernatu-ral shields against the attack of malevolent beings. Peters (2007) mentions that rosaries could be used as a whip and a weapon when the bombo is chasing away daemons, ghosts or spirits causing illnesses. in the ritual described by Peters, the assistant of the bombo Bhirenda, called seto, took off his rosary and struck a woman possessed by a daemon “lightly but repeatedly around the neck. (…) raising the sacred rosary over his head was like calling in action the 108 gods the beads represent. it was similar to raising a cross in the presence of one pos-sessed by the devil. she cried while she was being beaten, and each time seto raised his arm over his head, his face set in exaggerated grimace, she winced and lifted her arm to protect herself. Kanchi, that is the spirit possessing her, was on the defensive. seto had the situation under control. “ (Peters 2007: 124).

the function of the small bells of the double chain is quite similar, and their sound invokes and pleases the gods. the general idea is that bells are attracting positive energies and in several part of nepal they are symbolically connected with female powers.

Chains and rosaries are, in fact, an integral part of the dress. holmberg re-minds that “the costume of the bombo forms a being” (1980: 302). tamang bom-bos and nepalese jhankris shares similar dresses and rosaries with other ascetics, exorcists or low-caste artists.

Necklaces made of skeletons of snakesA typical necklace of tamang bombos is made of the skeleton of a snake. some-times it is provided with a tooth of wild boar. the object is connected with the symbolism of shiva, generally portrayed with snakes coiled around his neck. in the shamanic tradition shiva is considered the lord of Poisons, able to cure poi-son diseases. the necklace protects the bombo against magic arrows or projec-tiles, courses and spells (höfer 1994: 63). it is often put on the altar.

The Tamang dhyāngro and the phur-basAs michael oppitz (1991: 84) remarks, in nepal there are basically two types of shamanic drums. some drums of the tishenko and Aarnio collections are ta-mang and of the first type, called dhyāngro: they have two membranes and a long wooden handle connected to the ring. the skin is generally of a domestic goat. the stick or beater is shaped like a snake: it is considered a symbol of nāgas, the snake-spirits or divinities of the underworld. the snake is also a representation of the 'shaking' trance of the bombo.


the handle differs from one used by the tibetan lamas: it is carved in the shape of a phur-ba (ritual dagger) (Fig. 5).

the metal phur-ba used in bon, tantric and lamaist traditions has been analyzed by huntington (1975), marcotty (1987) and rawson (1973). unfortunately the shamanic wooden phur-ba have not been studied with the same attention. the shamanic phur-ba could be the handle of the drum, or an independent ritual tool, which is gen-erally put on the altar or used to fight, nail and kill daemons or other super-natural being.

the carvings of the wooden phur-ba are extremely various: every dagger is unique. But quite often their basic structure is similar: they are divided in three parts, representing the levels of the universe. the phur-ba is clearly a kind of axis mundi.

the upper part of the phur-ba of the drum in the tishenko collection repre-sents tree faces surrounded by inter-twined protective snakes with many heads (Fig. 6).

According to höfer (1994: 64) the tree faces represent the deity Phur-ba, but in other interpretations of the bombos this deity could be considered a more specific personification of the divinity or spirit of the ritual dagger owned by the shaman.

it is necessary to add that in different ethnic groups of nepal the tree faces could be called with different names and sometimes they are related to the hin-du triad shiva, Vishnu and Brahma. A Kirati shaman referred that the frighten-ing aspect of the faces cautions against thoughtless use of the powerful weapon (müller-ebeling, rätsch and Bahadur shani 2002: 13). Fournier (1976: 108–109) wrote that the sunuwar shamans called the tree faces lama and precisely: Tsinge Lama, Nima Tele and Urgin Tele. the scholar added that sen-ge or sin-ge perhaps means 'the lion', nyi-ma 'the sun; and urgin according to A. m. Blondeau is the de-

Fig. 5. Drum with phur-ba handle. Tischenko Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012


formation of the tibetan word U-rg-yan or O-rgyan: the birthplace of Pad-masambhava or Guru rinpoche, the founder of tibetan Bhuddism and the Vajrayāna Buddhism. he used a phur-ba to consecrate the ground when he established the samye monastery in the 8th century. Fournier noticed the scarcity of sunwari terms in the no-menclature of the drums symbols: the majority of the terms were ne-pali or tibetan.

Another possible interpreta-tion is that the tree faces belongs to Mahākāla, one manifestation of shiva that is particularly relevant in sever-al schools of tibetan Buddhism and represented on the metal phur-ba. or they could be Mahadew, a manifesta-tion of shiva popular in nepalese and tamang shamanism. it could be con-sidered also Bhairab, another fierce himalayan manifestation of shiva.

Analyzing the deity of tibetan metal phur-ba, marcotty (1987: 30) stated:

“And who is Phurba? this question cannot be answered to the last de-tail. Deities of the himalayas can mostly not be conceived as clearly definable individuals. more often

Fig. 6.A phur-ba handle. Upper part: carving of tree faces surrounded by snakes. Central part: carvings of the Endless Knot and the Thunder (varja). Lower part: carvings of tigers, the elephant-water monster makala, a bow, helping spirits, peacocks and snake spirit helpers of the Underworld. Tischenko collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012.


than not they are emanations or personifications of other deities and it re-mains at times uncertain who personified who. it is, however, undisputed that Phurba stands in relationship with the horse god tamdin whose sanskrit name is hayagriva, which amounts to “the one with the horse’s head”. here again we find a relation with the nomads, to the consecration of the soil and to the tent pegs. over and above that Phurba is also regarded as a belligerent emanation of a principle which is manifest in the deities mahakala (a distant relative of the indian shiva), in Avalokiteshvara, the patron of tibet, and last but not least in 'Guru rinpoche', in Padmasambhava that indian sage who al-legedly had discovered and perfected the dagger cult”.

if the identity of Phurba is so uncertain and fluid in tibetan Buddhism, in tamang and nepalese shamanhood it is probably even more multiple and com-plicate. it is necessary remember that nepalese and tamang shamanhood are oral traditions with many local variations: quite often the shamans offer indi-vidual interpretation of the symbols of their dagger and it is very plausible that a shamanistic pantheon is 'hidden' under names of hindu or tibetan deities or names. the number of the faces is variable: sometimes they are four.

Below the faces, the tischenko tamang drum phur-ba has carving represent-ing a variation of the 'endless Knot', known as dpal be'u in tibetan and shrivatsa in sanskrit. it is also called tibetan Knot, mystic Dragon, Knot of eternity, and lucky Diagram. it is a symbol of unity and endlessness of the universe and of Buddha’s infinite wisdom compassion. Actually is one of the 'eight auspicious emblems' of tibetan and mongolian Buddhism. in the shamanic interpretation, the knot could represent the shamanic energy (called shakti in several regions) or a spiritual connection existing between the three realms of the universe.

in the central part, it is found the carving of vajra, the thunder bolt: one of the most relevant and fascinating symbols of himalayan Buddhist and tantric traditions. in the bombo tradition, the thunder bolt is particularly connected to the “shaking” trance. the thunder is also a “spiritual weapon” used to fight and kill daemons. representation of the endless knots and the thunder bolt are pre-sent also on the phur-ba handle of one drum of the Aarnio collection.

the lowest part of the phur-ba is the three-edged blade of the dagger, on which is present the carving of a mythological being similar to an elephant, with a long proboscis. According to höfer (1994: 64–68), it is a marine monster called chyudirin or makara. oppitz (2007: 106), analyzing a tamang handle of the village of Dabcha in the Kabhre-Palchok district, noticed that the mythical beast is locally called guru godul and the description makes one think of Garuda, but the configuration more of a sea monster makara. sometimes makara is rep-resented like a “crocodile monster”. one one phur-ba of the drum of the Aarnio collection is carved a kind of crocodile-like monster with two hands: he is grap-


ping and devouring a nāga (snake), an agent of sickness. But more often ma-kara is a hybrid sea monster with an elephant-like face. in hindu tradition the elephants are associated with the Goddess of prosperity Lakshimi, and with the rain clouds that presage a good harvest. elephants are obviously connected also with Ganesh: a deity that is venerated by several nepalese jhankris. But also in these cases, Ganesh has been interpreted in a shamanistic way: the God with the elephant head is believed to be the “opener” of the gates of the universe, and he is mentioned in some opening ritual songs of the jhankris. Ganesh is of-ten represented with a phur-ba in one of his hands and in the tales he is often fighting and beating several kinds of daemons. in some hindu myths Ganesh has been killed and resurrected by shiva and has been considered like a myth-ic metaphor of shamanistic healing and the shamanic 'dead-like' experiences: dreams, visions and initiations. Ganesh, as a human-animal hybrid, sometimes is connected with the furry and primordial 'forest' shamans (the Dunsun Bon or Ban-jhanrkis) that appear in the first visionary experiences of the neophytes. this point is interesting, because höfer (1994: 67) refers that some informants considered the “monster face” as Dusun Bor, the fist shaman, the ancestor and sprit protector of the bombos. For other tamang informant, the face represents the mythic bird Garud.

höfer (1994: 68) stated that when the “monster head” points ahead, the bombo is beating the “violent” membrane of the drum in order to expel spirits. By contrast, when the monster head points toward the bombo, he is beating the “mild” or “peaceful” membrane, the one used to invoke gods (Fig. 7).

on another corner of the phur-ba blades of the tischenko drum probably there is a representation of a mythical bird called Khyun: the bombo send it to 'tame' and kill certain dangerous beings, above all the ones 'hidden' in stones, water and steep rocky slopes. this bird is a shamanic version of the tibetan khyun and hindu Garuda, the destroyer of evil snakes, or nāgas.

on the last corner of the three blades of this phur-ba handle it is carved a ti-ger or feline being. sometimes in nepalese shaman traditions the tigers are con-nected with the destructive tiger-rider goddess Durga, interpreted as a destroyer of daemons and associated with Kali. in india and nepal there are also several beliefs about human or deities changed into tigers, an animal suitable to rep-resent the shape-shifting qualities of the bombos. tiger and the cats in general are also considered shamanic animals for their ability to see in the dark and 'in the world of the dead'. sometimes tigers are represented on the very top of wooden phur-ba.

on the lowest part of the phur-ba blades, regularly there are representations of two or four intertwined snakes: these are not illness snake, but the snake spir-it helpers (Namdul and Samdul) of the underworld. Namdul is said to pierce the


“floor that separate the underworld from the upper world”: it is the open-er of the gate to the lower world.

on the phur-ba could be carved several other symbols: a bow with an arrow, the trident of shiva, a bumba, the sun and the moon. the arrow is another weapon used by bombos in the battle against the daemons. the arrow is considered one archaic sym-bol representing the ideology of sha-manism as a 'hunt' of souls. in ne-pal hunting and shamanism are still strongly connected in some cultures, as the tharu. sometimes the bow is related to shivaism: Shiva Dhanush or Pinaka (Ajagav) was the divine bow of lord shiva gifted to King Janaka by sage Parashurama for safe-keeping while the sage performed penances. the bow is also one of the most typi-cal weapons of Durga, often melted with some local daemon-killer goddess, like the newari Kurkula Devi. the arrow is present also in the altar of tantrikas. in any case, the arrow is used as a kind of magical dagger and it often present on the altar of shamans.

the sun and the moon are very common symbols on the pur-ba and they are painted in red and white on the membrane of the drum. they are somewhat linked with opposite but complementary energies: for example the feminine and masculine forces of the cosmos. some jhankri connects the moon and sun with the divine couple shiva and Kali, mahadew and mahadeva or some local deities representing male and female principles. in hindu iconography shiva is portrayed with the moon attached to his top knot.

the bumba, or kalasha is a copper or brass pitcher, often present on the altar with a phur-ba on the top opening or with a fan-shaped peacock feathers. the tamang bombos are using it as a container of holy water and some white flowers are stuck into it. it could be used as an incense holder and, according to some newari shamans, it represents the elephant god Ganesh. By contrast some ta-mang bombos apostrophe the bumba as 'mistress'.

the peacock, a symbol explained in the paragraph on the headgear, it is also carved on the surface of many phur-ba.

Fig. 7. Particular of a phur-ba handle. Carvings of a mythical bird, an elephant-water monster, a brass pitcher. Tischenko Collection. Photo by Vesa Matteo Piludu, 2012


All these carvings are not mere symbols, but representations of divine forces that could be activated during the ritual. höfer (1994: 68) stated that some ta-mang informants told her that drum is only temporarily 'inhabited' and 'oper-ated' by divine beings, such as those represented by the carvings on the handle.

the drum is not only used for musical purposes. it serves for divination and to discover the supernatural origin of the troubles or illnesses of the patient. on the membrane, held horizontally, the bombo collect also other vital substances that could be transferred to the patient, as a kind of blessing. 'stabbbing' with the wooden blade of the phur-ba handle into the ground or towards the body of the patient, it 'nails' or frightens dangerous spirits. in many case the phur-ba handle substitutes the wooden ritual dagger that remains on the altar (höfer 1994: 68).

the phur-ba is the most relevant object in the dreadful initiatory calling vi-sion of the bombo Bhirenda:

“in the cemetery, i saw many lagu, some with long crooked fangs, other with no heads and eyes in the middle of the chest, still others carrying deaths flags and decaying corpses. they chased me. Before i knew it, they were on top of me and devouring my body. i was horribly afraid and, in last hope, cried out for the gods to save me, telling them i was only a young boy. i drew out my father’s magical dagger to defend myself, but it fell to the ground and struck a rock. this created a spark of light and everything changed. suddenly it was daytime and the demons were gone. i was alive!” (Peters 2007: 81)

the initiatory vision contains the episode of 'body dismembering', extremely typical in the spirit-calls of several shamanic traditions.

The Chepang drums with only one membrane

the second type of drum is represented by the Chepang drum of the tishenko collection (Fig. 8).

the instrument is very similar to the siberian ones, has only one membrane and a small chain with various metal pendants. the inner part has a cross-handle. riboli (1995: 180–181) related a relevant account on the Chepang be-liefs about the building of the instrument. the neophyte has a dream, in which a mythical bird appears and shows what the right tree is peaking seven times on it. After that, neophyte fells the tree, under the supervision of his guru (guide), an older pande (Chepang shaman). if the tree “shakes” and seems to bleed, it is the right one. oppitz (1981: 124–125) mentions a similar dream related to the building of the drum of magar shamans. Fournier (1976: 110–111) reported another dream in which the helping spirit of a sunuwar neophyte is ordering to cut a particular tree. the Chepang wooden drumsticks are straight and often


on one side there are carving representing a spirit portrayed in a praying posi-tion (Fig. 9).

Fig. 8.Chepang drum.

Tischenko Collection. Photo

by Vesa Matteo Piludu, 2012

Fig. 9.Chepang drumsticks

with carvings of spirits. Tischenko Collection. Photo

by Vesa Matteo Piludu, 2012


The “natural” sacred daggers(Figure 10)on the altar there are many objects that are used as sorts of 'natural' daggers. the beak of hornbill repre-sents the mythic bird (Khyun) that defeats daemons. several horns and fangs of wild animals (local goats, antelopes, stags, deer, gazelle, and boars) are considered as 'original' or 'natural' phur-ba and are often pre-sent on the altar or are parts of the collars of tamang bombos. the gajal (tibetan gazelle, Procapa picticua-data) is used for the 'hunter spell' (shikari mantra), pronounced during the shamanic flight into the heavens (müller-ebeling, rätsch and Bahadur shani 2002: 209) (Fig. 11).

The tortoise shellon the tamang altar, the tortoise shell is the support of the beak of hornbill. Probably that disposition is connected with the role of the tor-toise as the support of the world in indian and tibetan mythology.

The iron tridentsthe small iron trident (trishul or tìr-sula) of the Aarnio collection is the typical one used on the altars and chene vessels of several jhankris and tamang bombos. in the bombo tradi-tion the trident sometimes is consid-ered the body of shiva-Mahadew, but it is also apostrophized as the 'three-Faced mitress' and said to blow “rak-

Fig. 10. Horn phur-ba. Aarnio Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012


ing in the sky and earth in search of what is concealed”, and to drive away evil spirits (höfer 1994: 63). the trident is very often carved on the surface of the wooden phur-ba and painted on the surface of drums. in the shamanic interpre-tation of the symbol, the three heads of the trident could represent the three worlds (sky, earth and underworld). sometimes, the trident itself could be used as a phur-ba.

one larger tamang trident of the tishenko collection was probably used as an ex-voto in some full moon ritual or pilgrimage on the top of a mountain sacred to shiva-Mahadew and his consort. the small and flat horizontal metal vessel was used to burn oil, following the hindu tradition.

“Thunder-stones” and pholas

Prehistoric axes and crafted stones are considered vajra dhunga, 'thunder' and “lightning” stones. they are valuable tools when battling and destroying harm-ful daemons o spirits.

the bombos and jhankris use many other stones, fossils and crystals. tamang ritual stones are generally called pholas and are believed to strike evil spirits af-ter being activated by mantras (Fig. 12).

The brass lamp

the tamang lamp of the Aarnio collection is kind a tibetan butter-lamp, but generally the bombos fuel it with oil, like the hindu nepalese in their rituals. the lamp illumines the altar and in this way the bombo is able to see the gods and spirits gathered around it (höfer 1994: 62).

The darlun

the tamang darlun is a stick with strips of five different colors representing the four directions or 'corners' of the world and the vertical zenith. it attracts magi-cal substances that transfer prosperity (Fig. 13).

Fig. 11. Beak of hornbill, iron tridents, tortoise shell and phur-ba. Aarnio Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012

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Fig. 12.Altar, headgear, brass lamp, little phur-ba, thunder-stones and pholas. Aarnio Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012

Fig. 13. Aarnio Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012


Bone and shell trumpets

the bone trumpets are generally made of bones of 'man-slayer leopards' or ti-gers. some are said to be made of human bones, preferably of a buried shaman or lama. similar instruments are used by lamas. According to the tamang bom-bos, the sound of the instrument terrifies ghosts and evil spirits. it could be used for trances and shamanic travels into the underworld. sometimes the blowing is connected to a special “bone mantra”.

Conch trumpets could be used to invoke spirit, to support meditation or trance, or to frighten and scare evil spirits. the conch is relevant as an instru-ment or containers of holy water in hinduism (the Panchajanya conch of Vish-nu), and it is one of the eight fundamental symbols of Vajrayana Buddhism: it stands for the fame of Buddha’s teaching. the conchs that have a spiral follow-ing a clockwise direction are particularly sacred, representing the celestial mo-tion of planets (Fig. 14).

Conclusions: a way full of open questionsthe present article is a general overview of the problems concerning the para-phernalia of the tamang and nepalese shamanic traditions. obviously it is far to be complete. the complexity of the topic calls for larger and more detailed studies, considering also other ethnic groups and objects. my intent was to pre-sent a set of 'open questions', not 'sure answers', about a picture that does not offer clear and bright colors, but a large quantity of shades and hues. nepalese shamanic beliefs are based to a set of oral traditions, subject to a great degree of variability. the variations of the wooden phur-ba symbols are impressive (see

Fig. 14. Aarnio Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012


the photos in the section Iconographies of the Phurbu and Dhyangro Handles in Gaborieau, 2007: 34–74). even so, oppitz (2007: 106) demonstrated that it is possible to develop a general geographic typology of the basic structures of nepalese phur-ba handles: “the waves of transformation advance from piece to piece, place to place, region to region, group to group (…) with a quiet regular-ity”. the hinduist and lamaist symbols present in the nepalese shamanic ob-jects and in their beliefs are fascinating, but very problematic. it is necessary to remark how all that elements are reinterpreted considerably by jhankri and bombos and other local shamanic healers. sidky, spielbauer, subedy, hamil, Blan-gero and William-Blangero (2000: 44) noticed that all the phombos (shamans) of the Jirels of eastern nepal worship Mahadi, identified with Mahadev and lord shiva, but the deity is clearly interpreted in a shamanistic way:

“one Phombo explained: “the mahadi was himself a Phombo, the original one, and in the past he used to perform the services of the Phombo for eve-ryone. it was mahadi who also created the ri Phombo, or Ban Jhankri, as his first disciple and to cure the God when he himself became ill. But now, in this present age, the gods have turned into stone statues and so their spirits must now enter into the body of humans. What mahadi used to do, is now done by humans, whose bodies become the receptable for the spirit of the god.”

this statement reveals clearly that the god mahadi is fused with the concept of the shaman ancestor and he is fully included in a shamanistic mythology and ideology. this theological flexibility is typical of nepalese and tamang beliefs.

Admitting the presence of hindu or lamaistic influences does not mean that the shamanic beliefs descended from these religions. By contrast, the shamanic lore seems to be more ancient and dominant in the rituals of the jhankris. how-ever, the shamanic healers are clearly using, quite creatively and for their own purposes, religious symbols that are present everywhere in nepal and tibetan areas. in the villages everyone knows the differences between the activities of a bombo and a lama: these are well expressed also in the popular legends about the contrast between a proto-bombo and a proto-lama, stating the diversity of

Fig. 15. Boar fang, spear, phur-ba, thunder-stones and pholas, bone trumpets. Aarnio Collection. Photo by Paavo Hamunen, 2012


their ritual domains. even so, a dialectical dialogue between the two religious specialists has been detected by several scholars. exploring tamang beliefs and rituals, holmberg (1989) demonstrated how a religious system that contains Buddhist, shamanic, and sacrificial practices may be understood as a whole. not by chance mumford (1989), titled his study about tibetan lamas and Gurung shamans Himalayan Dialogue.

last but not least, one of the most relevant issues that should be developed in future articles or monographs on nepalese shamanic objects is a detailed survey about their uses in different rites, considering regional, situational and symboli-cal variations due by the differences between ritual performances.

ReferencesGaborieau, m. (ed.) 2007. Art chamanique népalais. Nepalese Shamanic Art. Paris: Galerie

le toit du monde. hitchcock, J. t. and Jones, r. l. (eds) 1976. Spirit possession in the Nepal Himalayas.

Warmister: Aris and Phillips ldt. holmberg, D. h. 1980. Lama, shaman and lumbu in Tamang religious practice. ithaca, new

York: Cornell university. holmberg, D. h. 1989. Order in paradox: Myth, ritual, and exchange among Nepal's Tamang.

ithaca, new York: Cornell university Press.hoppál, m. 2010. Uralic mythologies and shamans. Budapest: institute of ethnology.

hungarian Academy of science. hoppál, m. 2011. Shamans and traditions. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó. höfer, A. 1994. A recitation of the Tamang Shaman in Nepal. Bonn: VGh Wissenshafts-

verlag. huntinton, J. C. 1975. The Phur-pa: Tibetan ritual daggers. Ascona: Artibus Asiae (sup-

plementum, vol. 33). Kölver, B. (ed.) 1984. Formen kulturellen Wandels und andere Beiträge zur Erforschung des

Himālaya. Colloquium des schwerpunktes nepal (heidelberg 1.-4. Februar 1984), nepalica 2. saint Augustin: VGh Wissenshaftsverlag.

macdonald, A. W. 1976. Preliminary notes on some jhankri of Muglan. in J. t. hitchcock and r. l. Jones (eds) Spirit possession in the Nepal Himalayas, 309–341. new Delhi: Vikas.

marcotty, t. 1987. Dagger blessing: The Tibetan Phurpa cult: reflections and materials. Delhi: B.r. Pubblishing Corporation.

mumford, s. r. 1989. Himalayan dialogue: Tibetan lamas and Gurung Shamans in Nepal. madison: university of Wisconsin Press.

müller-ebeling, C., rätsch, C. and Bahadur shahi, s. 2002. Shamanism and tantra in the Hymalayas. london: thames and hudson.

oppitz, m. 1981. Schamanen im Blinden Land. Ein Bilderbuch aus dem Himalaya. Frank-furt: syndikat.


oppitz, m. 1991. Der trommel und das Buch. eine kleine und die große tradition. in B. Kölver (ed.) Formen kulturellen Wandels und andere Beiträge zur Erforschung des Himālaya. Colloquium des schwerpunktes nepal (heidelberg 1.-4. Februar 1984), nepalica 2, 55–73. saint Augustin: VGh Wissenshaftsverlag.

oppitz, m. 2007. the metamorphosis of a ritual object. in m. Gaborieau (ed.) Art cha-manique népalais. Nepalese shamanic art, 104–113. Paris: Galerie le toit du monde.

Peters, l. 2007. Tamang shamans. An ethnopsichiatric study of ecstasy and healing in Ne-pal. new Delhi: nirala.

Pratt, C. 2007. An encyclopedia of shamanism 2. new York: the rosen Publishing Group.rawson, P. s. 1973. The art of Tantra. new York: Graphic society. riboli, D. 1995. riti sciamanici dei Chepang del terai. in r. mastromattei, m. nicoletti,

D. riboli and C. sani Tremore e potere. La condizione estatica nello sciamanesimo hima-layano, 166–196. milano: FrancoAngeli.

sidky, h., spielbauer, h., ronald subedy, Janardan, h., James Blangero J. and William-Blangero, s. 2000. Phombos: a look at traditional healers among the Jirels of east-ern nepal. in Contribution to Nepalese Studies, the Jirel issue (Volume 27, January 2000), 39–52. Kathmandu, Centre for nepal and Asian studies (CnAs) at tribhuvan university (tu).

Waddell, l. A. 1959. The Buddhism of Tibet or Lamaism. Cambridge: heffers (reprint 2nd edition).



Denita Benyshek

Artists as shamans: Historical review and recent theoretical model

the following review presents the trajectory of thought linking artists and sha-mans, followed by important findings from a recent study presenting a theo-retical model of contemporary artists as shamans. the literature is primarily drawn from Western sources. As such, the ideas are mostly productions of the “Western mind,” which, as explained by tarnas (2003) encompasses the evolv-ing “major world views of the West’s mainstream high culture, focusing on the crucial sphere of interaction between philosophy, religion, and science” (xiv), where also resides mythology, iconography, anthropology, psychology, archae-ology, and, i will add, art.

Ancient myth and paleolithic gravesthe multi-directional relationships between artists and shamans were recog-nized in stories of culture written collaboratively over millennia, begins in myth and prehistory. Khagalov, in his 1916 manuscript, expressed his belief in the matriarchal foundation of shamanism based, in part, on legends from the north-ernmost mongol people, the Buryat (Znamenski 2003). their supreme deity or-dered an eagle to give power to a woman who becomes the first shaman. Because shamans utilize forms of art in their rituals, the Buryat’s first shaman was also considered their first artist.

An excavation at Dolní Věstonice, in the present Czech republic, unearthed the oldest known grave of a shaman (tedlock 2005). Analysis of the skeleton discovered that the shaman was a woman who lived during the upper Paleolithic era, 60,000 BCe. the same site provided the grave of a second female also as-sumed to be a shaman.

denitabenyshek

Sticky Note

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the archaeological team discovered a nearby lodge with bone flutes and al-most 3,000 pieces of clay baked in an oven, some formed into animals or human heads, feet, or hands. none of the forms appeared to serve utilitarian functions as household utensils (tedlock 2005) and many of the pieces were fragments re-sulting from deliberately induced explosions through thermal shock (Vandiver, soffer, Klima, and svoboda 1989).

Although beliefs underlying the purposeful explosions remain unknown, the flutes and clay forms represent the earliest known indications of shamanic art. however, the creation of these forms as l’art pour l’art (Cousin 1818), as art purely for the sake of art, is highly unlikely. the kilns of Dolní Věstonice were atypically located, away from the community’s general settlement, which hints at a possible magical, ritual purpose for the clay forms (Vandiver et al. 1989).

moreover, fine art, as a concept, was not yet invented. therefore, i use “proto-art” to refer to early material culture with family resemblances to art. Proto-art also distinguishes prehistoric creations that might have served utilitarian pur-poses and is different from fine arts that are often limited to “modes of expres-sion that use skill or imagination in the creation of aesthetic objects, environ-ments, or experiences that can be shared with others” (Arts 2009). soffer and Conkey explained:

"As defined in the past century, art is a cultural phenomenon that is as-sumed to function in what we recognize and carve off separately as the aes-thetic sphere.... this aesthetic function is something that we cannot assume to have been the case in prehistory. in fact, ethnographic data from nonwestern cultures clearly show us otherwise; most such cultures do not make the kinds of distinctions that we do, they do not have an equivalent term for 'art' nor do they often differentiate the aesthetic from the symbolic from the sacred from the utilitarian, and so on.... " (1997: 2)

Although proto-arts often make full use of aesthetic considerations, shaman-ic proto-art of the past was generally created with the intent of providing psy-chological, social, spiritual, and physiological benefits (Benyshek 2012).

The European Age of ExplorationDuring europe’s Age of exploration, explorers, scientists, and missionaries encountered traditional shamanic societies. Written reports often described shamanic rituals with terms and concepts borrowed from the fine arts of eu-rope. etic observers noted how shamans used dance (Biet 1664/2004; Petro-vich 1672/2004), hand properties such as live snakes, forms of music (lafitau 1724/2004), and costumes (Diderot 1751–1772). lafitau, recognized the role of “deceit” (1724/2004: 25) involved in shamanic rituals, perhaps acknowledging the importance of theatrical acting in shamanic rituals.

213Artists as shamans: Historical review and recent theoretical model

RomanticismDuring the romantic era, a fascination with “esoteric religions and supersti-tious beliefs” (honour 1979: 12) heightened the West’s interest in shamanism. herder (1785/2004) described the shaman as an artist, poet, healer, musician, magician, and specialist in spirituality. he understood how the shaman’s work created order out of chaos and helped organize societies (noll 2004). herder (1785/2004) also introduced the important topic of creativity into the discus-sion of shamans as artists. he believed that the nature of imagination would provide an understanding of shamanism, viewing imagination as a cognitive force that empowered the soul and linked mind with body.

As information about siberian shamans drifted west, the fine arts of europe were profoundly influenced by a romanticized concept of shamanism, which in-spired the subject matter of art, altered the self-image of artists, and influenced beliefs about how fine art functioned for the audience (Flaherty 1992). At this point in history, there was a significant shift from considering shamans as art-ists to also conceiving of fine artists as shamans.

The EnlightenmentAt the dawn of the French enlightenment, in the Encyclopédie (Diderot and d'Alembert 1751–1772), Diderot stated that shamans were “imposters” who performed “tricks that seemed supernatural to an ignorant and superstitious people” (1751–1772: 32). Yet, in a roundabout fashion, Diderot’s comments also recognized the dramatic acting abilities and magicianship of shamans. Further, in his creative writing, Diderot integrated the romantic appreciation of sha-manism via a dialogue between two characters, the enlightened and rational Moi (me) and the eccentric, unconventional, and genuine Lui (him).

According to Flaherty, Diderot created Lui “to represent things shamanic: act-ing or illusion, flights of fancy or genius, irrationality, heated enthusiasm, emo-tional agitation, frivolity, and androgynous childhood” (1992: 127). Although opposite in character, Moi understood the value of Lui’s social role:

"such a man will draw my attention perhaps once a year when i meet him because his character offers a sharp contrast with the usual run of men, and a break from the dull routine imposed by one's education, social conventions and manners. When in company, he works as a pinch of leaven, causing fermentation and restoring each to his natural bend. one feels shaken and moved; prompted to approve or blame; he causes truth to shine forth, good men to stand out, vil-lains to unmask".

214 Denita Benyshek

While shamanism provided a scapegoat for the enlightened, who valued skep-ticism, objectivity, and rationalism, shamanism could also illuminate the en-lightenment’s shadow, revealing facades and flaws while restoring authenticity.

Mythology

While F. müller denigrated “debased” and “idolatrous… heathens” (1870: 23), he (1889) also encouraged a careful examination of all religions towards the dis-covery of the first religion. Because shamanism was perceived as the original, universal religion, mythologists began examining shamanic myths and legends.

nonetheless, when visual proto-art from the upper Paleolithic era was ini-tially discovered, it was deemed meaningless because researchers assumed pre-historic peoples did not have religious beliefs or practices (eshleman 2003). in 1880, sautuola shared his theory about the newly discovered polychrome paint-ed ceiling in the Alta mira cave. Archaeologists responded by accusing sautu-ola of forgery because of the overriding belief that prehistoric peoples were not capable of creating such talented and sophisticated artwork (Bahn and Vertut 1997: 18).

soon thereafter, Frazer “recognized the basic similarities of the human mind, not as a rhetorical statement of human equality, but as a principal to be used in his work” (mcilwraith 1956). reasoning that the human mind was basically the same, regardless of time or place, Frazer believed that knowledge of prehistoric cultures could be gained by examining systadial living societies, analyzing con-temporary societies that were at the same level of technological sophistication as the prehistoric culture under consideration.

in The Golden Bough, Frazier (1900) considered evolutionary stages of mag-ic, myth, ritual, religion, and science. Although French poststructuralists later deemed some of Frazer’s facts and conclusions unsound, The Golden Bough treat-ed “magic and religion with scientific neutrality” from a perspective of “multicul-tural sympathy” (Paglia 1999), without the cultural and religious biases evident in earlier reports of shamanism, using neutral descriptions. Frazer also referred to magic as an art form.

Proto-art could play a magical role when “the rude hunter or fisherman” (Frazer 1900: 23) used homeopathic or imitative magic, a kind of “sympathetic magic” (ibid. 1900: 11) based on “the principle that like produces like” (ibid. 1900: 23). Frazer described First Peoples, in British Columbia, who fashioned magical charms to insure success at the hunt. For this purpose, a shaman sub-merged a sculpted swimming fish and prayed, calling in the tribe’s major food source.

eventually, after multiple discoveries of proto-art in the caves of France and spain, archaeologists accepted the ability of Paleolithic peoples to create extraor-


dinary art. Frazer’s (1900) nonbiased explanation of sympathetic magic, as well as Frazer’s nonhierarchical view of the human mind, strongly influenced subse-quent interpretations of cave art.

Early Interpretations of Cave Art

Capitan, Breuil, and Peyrony (1903) employed cross-cultural comparisons be-tween systadial societies and concluded that the purpose of prehistoric cave proto-art was to magically control animals. Breuil (1952) also believed that cave proto-art served as backdrops for dances to bring luck in hunting, as educational aids to teach the art of hunting, as targets for hunting practice, and as fertility magic insuring the survival of major food sources.

however, according to eshleman, “there are no verifiable hunting scenes in upper Paleolithic art. Very few of the animals depicted are wounded and we are not sure that such signs actually depict wounds and/or spears” (2003: 126). es-hleman also argued against Breuil’s fertility magic theories. Kleiner noted that most of Breuil’s “theories have been discredited over time, and most prehisto-rians admit that no one knows the intent of these representations” (2009: 21).

Women: Earliest Shamans and Artists?

An inaccuracy exists in the assumptions made by Cartailhac and Breuil (1906). they referred to cave artists as male, not only through gender-limited masculine pronouns but also through specific comments, blindly imposing the androcen-tric bias of their society. the assumption that cave artists were male extended through almost a century of publications despite early reports of female sha-mans in russian journals of anthropology. For example, in 1910, Bogoras ob-served that archaic forms of Chukchi shamanism were egalitarian, with women given roles of leadership (Znamenski 2003).

As noted earlier, archaeological discoveries indicated that women probably served as early shamans who also made proto-art objects. there is additional evidence of female shamans creating some, if not most, of the earliest forms of artlike mark making in caves (van Gelder and sharp 2009) as well as hand stencils in caves that might be a kind of signature for nearby paintings in Peche merle, Gargas, and el Castillo caves (national Geographic 2009).

Discovery of the female shaman graves plus analysis of the finger flutings and hand stencils call into question the numerous interpretations of prehistoric art formulated from an androcentric bias. therefore, interpretations of prehis-toric art that refer solely to activities performed primarily by men, such as hunt-ing, are also questionable. indeed, women appear to have played important roles in the spiritual and cultural lives of their communities, serving as shamans and

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proto-artists, with shamans presumed to be the creators of drawings, engrav-ings, and sculptures in caves (see Breuil 1952; Clottes and lewis-Williams 1998; Whitley 2009). nonetheless, whether all proto-artists – regardless of gender or age – also served as shamans cannot be absolutely confirmed.

The Therianthropic Sorcerer of Les Trois Frèreshamans are also thought to be the subject matter of proto-art. one particular human/animal composite figure, found in the Cave of the trois-Frères located in present day France, was initially dubbed ‘the God of les trois Frères’ and later known as ‘the sorcerer.’ Breuil copied the figure in situ and reproduced his drawing in a 1920 publication (Bégouën and Breuil).

Based on Breuil’s drawing, James (1957) identified the sorcerer as a shaman. this marked the first identification of a shaman as the subject of a Paleolithic artwork. James based his theory on eliade’s (1951/1964) description of elabo-rate costumes of shamans that resembled a duck or a reindeer, with ribbons and pelts symbolizing snakes, metal forms representing skeletal bones, a cap shaped like a lynx, a cap with antlers, explicit drawings of sexual organs, images of mythical beasts, boots resembling bird claws, wings and feathers to aid flight, and a staff with a horse’s head (ibid. 1951/1964: 145–157). While functioning symbolically, costume images and materials also referred to a shaman’s ability to shape-shift, “the alteration in form or substance of any animate or object” (Carse 1987: 225).

the shape shifting sorcerer of les trois Frère is referred to as therianthrop-ic, meaning in the midst of metamorphosis from human to animal, by many researchers. to these researchers, who became members of the proto-art audi-ence and entered the mundus imaginalis, the imaginal reality described by Corbin (1964) through the doorway of proto-art, the sorcerer of les trois Frère does not depict a man wearing a costume. Perhaps the power of art and the human capacity to willingly suspend disbelief (see Coleridge 1817) caused awe-struck viewers to believe in the drawing’s imaginal reality. speaking of bison/human composite figures found in european caves, eshleman remarked:

"some commentators have suggested that the animal heads on human bod-ies are masks. While this is theoretically a possibility, i have never notice any tie strings or straps attached to such head. A stronger case against the existence of masks is the organic hybridity throughout the head and bodies of these figures, making them truly fantastic and not just human beings wearing ritual parapher-nalia. such thorough hybridity emphasizes their mental reality, as figures that were imagined, dreamed, or seen in trance." (2003: 157)


The Entheogenmorphic Shaman of Willendorf?

Given that women served as shamans, we might wonder why few cave draw-ings depict therianthropic women. Perhaps, the many small sculptures formerly known as “Venuses,” such as the Woman of Willendorf and the Woman of Kosten-ki, represent women in a state of metamorphosis, from human to entheogenic mushroom.

An “entheogen in the strict sense is a psychoactive substance used in a reli-gious, shamanic or spiritual context” (miller, Vandome and mcBrewster 2010: 152) that induces alterations in consciousness (ruck et al. 1979), and “is ani-mate with the spirit of deity. When ingested, its spirit enters the body of the celebrant or shaman” (miller, Vandome and mcBrewster: 52). my argument is based on the sculpture’s lack of facial features, cap position, size and position of arms, and general resemblance to certain entheogenic mushrooms known to be used in prehistoric shamanic rituals.

Willendorf wears a cap pulled low, covering her eyes. this odd position is recognized, yet remains unexplained. Perhaps the cap is pulled low to deliber-ately obscure the woman’s sight and aid her achievement of an alternate state of consciousness.

in many societies, shamans practice with their eyes or face deliberately cov-ered by kerchiefs (olson, 2011), fringe (society for Art Publications 1973), or caps. then, shamans could more easily concentrate (edson 2009), enter trance (society for Art Publications 1973), and gain access to the spirit world (eliade 1951/1964; olson 2011) through inner sight (edson 2009).

the Willendorf’s cap might also represent the cap of a mushroom. sculpt-ed, modeled, or drawn human figures wearing hats shaped like hallucinogenic mushrooms are found in in the ancient art of mesoamerica as well as egypt (ruck 2006).

the Willendorf’s arms, in their disproportionately thin shape and position, resemble the dentate ring remaining from the ruptured veil of the psychoactive mushroom, Amanita muscaria (ruck 2006; Berlant 2010–2011), used as a sha-manic entheogen. (Figs. 1, 2)

to describe the woman-mushroom composite sculptures possibly in a state of morphosis, i suggest we use the term entheogenmorphic. the statues may rep-resent female shamans shape shifting into hallucinogenic mushrooms during trance states caused by ingesting entheogens during shamanic rituals.

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Iconography

When researchers identified Paleolithic images of shamans via specific symbols and themes commonly seen in shamanic rituals and beliefs, researchers are us-ing an iconographic method developed in the field of art history by Panofsky (1939/1973). iconography is used to analyze motifs in images, stories, and al-legories; interpret themes through historical, cultural, or social contexts; and discover intrinsic meaning through a revelation of symbolic values and icono-graphic synthesis. the final stage of iconographic analysis applies “synthetic in-tuition (familiarity with the essential tendencies of the human mind), psychology, and Weltanschauung” (ibid. 1939/1973: 15).

the shamanic Weltanschauung, or world view, constructed by eliade (1951/1964) provided a lens through which prehistoric and shamanic proto-arts were interpreted, establishing a direction of thought and a momentum of ideas that gained strength through subsequent popular publications (e.g., Castaneda 1968; halifax 1979, 1983; m. harner 1968/1986), as well as archaeological and

Fig. 1. Woman or Venus of Willendorf. Krister Parmstrand, photographer. Permission granted to reproduce photograph via email.

Fig. 2. Fliegenpilz (Amanita muscaria), Heike Löchel, photographer. Open source, retrieved from http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fliegenpilz_21.jpg


anthropological explorations of shamanic arts (e.g., lewis-Williams and Dowson 1999; lommel 1966; trueblood Brodzky et al. 1977).

in Shamanism: The Beginning of Art, lommel (1966) performed an icono-graphic exegesis of material culture objects created by shamans, meticulously explaining the symbolic meanings and cultural functions of visual and plastic el-ements. lommel’s “synthetic intuition” was informed by a wide range of sources, including ideas from psychology, especially the theories of Carl Jung.

Jungian psychology

in europe, knowledge of shamanism was limited during the life of Carl Jung (ryan 2002). his theories about archetypes, individuation, art, creativity, ritual, active imagination, and dream interpretation were rooted in eliade’s (1951/1964) work. in turn, Jung’s ideas influenced the analysis and interpretation of art cre-ated by shamans and provided concepts used by native Americans to analyze and interpret their own shamanic art (e.g., trueblood Brodzky et al. 1977).

eventually, Jung’s own experiences, theories, artwork, and practices were in-terpreted as shamanic (see Koslor 2010; ryan 2002; smith 2007). Jung’s theo-ries influenced the surrealist belief that artists served as shamanlike mediums or seers. Painter John Graham believed that artists connect with the “uncon-scious” and the “primordial past” (rhodes, 1994: 188) while poet André Breton credited artists with creating the “living myth of our time” (ibid. 1994: 189).

Contemporary Artists as Shamans

As flaws in the myth of progress became increasingly obvious, with increased crime, environmental degradation, and horrific wars, a growing number of peo-ple became interested in shamanism (hoppál 1996) including many artists.

to heal societal ills, some contemporary artists created work inspired by their traditional native culture’s shamanic traditions (see Benyshek 2012), including Korean-born American video artist nam June Paik; Chippewa/German-Amer-ican novelist louise erdrich; ojibwe painter-shaman of Canada, norval mor-risseau; Peruvian mestizo painter-shaman Pablo Amaringo; hungarian painter-shaman Jóska soós; and south Korean shaman-choreographer Kim Kum hwa.

many nontraditional contemporary artists were also inspired by shamanism. Joseph Beuys, a self-identified shaman, created ritual performances and objects with the intent to heal (levi strauss 1999). the growing body of literature on shamanism formed an upsurging wave of interest that swept through the arts of europe and north America into abstraction (rhodes 1994), feminist art (oren-stein 1988), eco-art (mcGreevy 1987), environmental art (Women environmen-tal Artists Directory 2009), and ritual-performances (Benyshek 2012).

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in popular culture, the association of rock musicians with shamans is persis-tent but generally unsupported by research literature on shamanism. Writing about rock musician and poet Patti smith, o’hagen (2003) reflected:

"it strikes me, while watching her perform, that Patti smith is perhaps the last of a lineage the stretches back beyond Jimi hendrix and Jim morrison to the likes of Antonin Artaud and Charles Baudelaire – the artist-performer as both shaman and catalyst, someone whose whole raison d’être is to evoke and invoke the transformative power of the Word."

o’hagen linked rock music, surrealism, and romanticism with shamanism based on a single variable – how literature can be transformative. o’hagen pre-sented several generations of artists previously linked with shamanism: Baude-laire, “who defined the modern poet as a shaman communing with and becom-ing God in the process of artistic creation”(Kuritz 1988: 365); through Artaud, “someone who has made a spiritual trip for us – a shaman” (sontag 1976); fol-lowed by Jim morrison, for whom shamanism “focused the passion behind his rebellion and the power behind his persona” (riordan and Prochnicky 1992: 191); then to rock star Jimi hendrix, who “performed ‘Wild thing’ – starting out with the movements of a burlesque dancer, and then metamorphosing into a shaman or a madman as he ignited his guitar” (Doggett 2004: 84); and, finally, culminating with smith.

the legendary rock singer, Jim morrison, claimed he was a shaman based on a partly fabricated incident from his childhood. “morrison often recounted the accident story and many of his friends believed it” (riordan and Prochnicky 1992: 192).

"As a child he [morrison] was driving with his parents, and there was a truck full of indians that had crashed and overturned. there was a medicine man dying at the side of the road, and Jim, this four- or five-year-old child viv-idly remembered a mystical experience when, as the shaman died, his spirit entered Jim’s body. that was the pivotal event of his entire life. he always viewed himself as the shaman, having mystical powers and the ability to see through many façades to the truth. it was this power that drove him. this was the great force that pushed his life and took him out of the rigid, military environment of his youth and turned him into a seer." (rothchild, as quoted in riordan and Prochnicky 1992: 193)

this tale links morrison with spirit possession, mysticism, paranormal ex-perience, and other signs of transliminality, a “hypothesized tendency for psy-chological material to cross (trans) thresholds (limines) into or out of con-sciousness” (thalbourne and houran 2000: 853) especially of an affective and ideational kind (thalbourne, Delin and Bassett 1994), also associated with crea-tivity and magical thinking (thalbourne and Delin 1999).


Based on a definition of shaman primarily dependent on achieving a state of ecstasy, riordan and Prochnicky (1992) perceived morrison as a full-fledged shaman. in contrast, Krippner (2009) concluded that morrison failed to qualify as a shaman partly because morrison did not demonstrate concern for his audi-ence. Although the singer/songwriter was influenced by shamanic beliefs and practices, morrison “lacked the commitment to… [his] community [his audi-ence] and the disciplined use of altered states of consciousness that characterize traditional shamans” (Krippner 2009: 109). Krippner not only noted similarities between morrison and traditional shamans, Krippner also differentiated mor-rison from shamans, commenting:

"traditional shamans often engage in wild, chaotic behavior. But it is a per-formance, not a life style; shamans respect the needs of their community and conserve their energy for their roles as healers, mediators, and protectors. Jim was out of control more often than he was in control. his music and his poetry reflect craft and skill, his life style does not. he chose dissipation over control, rage over compassion, death over life. his early demise indicates his lack of concern for his own well-being. nor, unlike traditional shamans, did he manifest concern for the audiences who idolized him and were transported by his music into other worlds." (ibid. 2009:115)

Faris and Faris (2010) diagnosed the shamanizing of Jim morrison as a pseu-do-identity resulting from a borderline personality disorder. how morrison’s life is framed by shamanism depends on who is holding the camera, what kind of camera it is, and which direction the camera is pointed.

tucker (1992), levy (1993), and Weiss (1995) explored the shamanic roles of contemporary artists, primarily as evident in works of art, through iconographic analysis and informal cross-cultural analysis of contemporary artists and tradi-tional shamanism, using dystadial societies, meaning societies that are not usu-ally perceived as technologically matched.

tucker (1992) loosely linked shamanism with theories on individuation and spiritual healing from Jung (1962), ideas on mythology (e.g., Campbell 1975, 1976, 1982), the Great Goddess revival (e.g., Gimbutas 1989; orenstein 1990; starhawk 1989), plus various spiritual beliefs and esoteric schools of thought. tucker (1992) wrote of artists who are “shaman-like” or “shamanic” due to signs of mysticism, primal simplicity, mythopoeisis, ecstasy, visions, spirituality, rev-erie, participation mystique, altered states of consciousness, dreams, cosmic re-ligiosity, woundedness, or an intent to heal.

many of tucker’s (1992) references were books (e.g. Castaneda 1968, 1971, 1974, 1975; eliade 1951/1964; halifax 1979, 1983; m. harner 1968/1986) that provided inspiration, guidance, and momentum to the neoshamanism move-ment – a noncentralized, primarily text based (noel 1997), spiritual offshoot of

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the human potential movement (Znamenski 2007). Before and after tucker’s (1992) book was published, several of his primary references were criticized for cultural appropriation, flawed methods, or fictional accounts (see Bellin 2008; de mille 1976; hagan 1992; r. marshall 2007; marton 1994; murray 1981; Zna-menski 2007). eliade’s (1951/1964) description of shaman, a globally general-ized metanarrative, was criticized for a number of inaccuracies, omissions, and over-generalizations (see Benyshek 2012; Dudley 1977; heinze 1991; Kehoe 2000; lewis 1984; Walter and Fridman 2004). Furthermore, tucker (1992) ig-nored differences between traditional shamans and contemporary artists that might have disconfirmed his argument (Wallis 2004).

nonetheless, tucker (1992) showed how certain contemporary artists were constructing a synthesizing consciousness, built, in part, from the raw materials of shamanism. tucker also made an important distinction between illustrative art that depicts shamans compared to art that “contains within itself the mytho-poeic (and formal) power needed to stimulate transformative, shamanic quali-ties of consciousness in the onlooker” (ibid. 1992: 50). in his regard for members of the art audience, tucker passed through the invisible wall that often prevents researchers from comparing art audiences with shamanic communities.

levy (1993) observed how “ecstasy, the most vital element of religion, has almost disappeared from conventional forms of worship” (xv). in response, some artists have “resumed the ancient role of the shaman” (levy: xv) by becoming what eliade called “technicians of ecstasy” (1951/1964: 4). levy believed that shamanism, especially the practice of seeing and the experience of ecstasy, could provide alternatives to the illegal drug use of art students.

early in his book, levy (1993) included a definition of shaman from heinze (1993): a shaman has the ability to “access alternating states of consciousness at will” (ix); the shaman serves “the community and fulfills vital needs” (x); a sha-man is the mediator “between the sacred and the secular” (xi); and “Divine mes-sages” are delivered by the shaman to the community via “symbols, metaphors, and rituals” that “shift[s] the attention” (xi) of clients through art. Although, levy did not undertake a systematic comparison of artists to shamans based on the definition’s properties, i recently demonstrated that contemporary art-ists can fulfill all actions and functions described by heinze, providing for the psychological, social, physiological, and spiritual needs of art audience members (Benyshek 2012).

For levy, shamanic works of art, invested with “spiritual content,” offered alternatives for “artists who are seeking to go beyond the idiosyncratic selfish-ness, commodity fetishism, adherence to fashion, and sterile appropriation that informs much of contemporary art” (1993: 303). levy differentiated genuine, contemporary shamanic art from works by artists who “simply borrow spiritual contents by appropriating images and styles from a wide range of cultures, in-


cluding tribal art,” resulting in “a simulacrum of meaning which lacks depth” (ibid. 1993: 303). this is an important distinction, between art that is shamanic and art that appears or pretends to be shamanic. in levy’s opinion, shamanic art does not require a tribal, “primitive” style. While levy’s book is weakened by less rigorous research methods, he provided support to spiritually inspired art-ists and underscored the ability of art to provide shamanic services to the art community.

Weiss (1993) read early russian anthropological publications regarding sha-manism, which allowed her to interpret themes in Kandinsky’s work through the Weltanschauung of siberian shamanism – with which Kandinsky was familiar due to his formal training as an anthropologist, his familiarity with ethnograph-ic studies on shamans, and his field research in siberia. Based on this knowl-edge, Kandinsky developed a visual vocabulary composed of symbols found in shamanic paraphernalia and myths, syncretized with symbols and myths from pagan, folk, and Christian orthodox sources.

Weiss stated that Kandinsky’s small, quickly executed watercolors “signaled that the shaman had once again taken up his drum and sought, by ‘shamanizing,’ to overcome the catastrophic disruption of war, revolution, and personal crisis” (1995: 121), problematic relationships with women, and the death of his young son. Weiss wrote, “Kandinsky clearly enunciated his shamanistic intentions and delineated a parallel between the creative act of the artist and the shamanizing of the shaman” (ibid. 1995:163).

however, the process of creativity, as an act of shamanizing, was never fully explicated by Weiss (1995). instead, she veered back to iconographic analysis of Kandinsky’s creative product, discussing how Kandinsky used “an ancient Buryat myth concerning the ‘First shaman’” as an allegory for the russian revolution, and then describing how Kandinsky depicted the myth in paint.

Psychology of Creativityin Weiss’s investigation of Kandinsky’s relationship with shamanism, she un-knowingly ventured into categories known as “the four P’s,” namely person, process, product, and environment press, employed by researchers studying creativity (Barron 1988; richards 1981). Weiss briefly mentioned aspects of Kandinsky’s personality, discussed aspects of his creative process, performed careful iconographic analysis of the artist’s work, and explored the influential environmental press of war and personal relationships.

research on the psychology of creativity is potentially relevant to shamans inasmuch as shamans were seen as highly creative (Bergquist 1996). richards recognized that most early eminent creators were probably shamans. she iden-tified many ways in which shamans are “highly creative” (2000–2001: 127) in-

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cluding how “they dare to depart from the ruts of ordinary reality to bring back broader perspectives for all of us” (ibid. 2000–2001: 127). the development of shamanic creative potential is also supposedly related to the development of purported psychic talents (Kharitonova 2004). According to tedlock during divi-nation sessions, “individual poetic creativity” of shamans contributed to the “ideas, metaphors, and symbols” that “suggest various possible interpretations” (ibid. 2004: 447).

shamanic creative processes are seen in semantic meaning making (rasmus-sen, 2004), while playing a trickster role (Balzer 2004), and in the invention of images to support healing (van Deusen 2004). saniotis mused, “early shamans...must have generated creative ways of rapport with the nonhuman world” includ-ing the ability to slip out of ‘perceptual boundaries’” and the creation of “a litany of novel symbolisms and immersion in nonordinary states” (2009: 466). Al-though researchers recognized shamanic creativity, the significant amount data generated by psychologists studying creativity remained untapped by almost all research comparing artists and shamans.

one exception is Whitley (2009). however, despite Whitley’s achievements as a scholar of archaeology, he misinterpreted and misapplied data from psy-chological studies investigating the association between everyday creativity and bipolar disorder (richards, Kinney, lunde and Benet 1988) and studies looking at the presence of psychopathology in artists (Andreasen 1997; Jamison 1993). Whitley assumed all Paleolithic artists were shamans, and then diagnosed them as having severe forms of psychopathology. But, Whitley’s arguments and con-clusions were flawed (Benyshek 2012).

Whitley did not consider critiques of data sources on the psychopathology of artists (see rothenberg 1990; sass 2000–2001; simonton 1984, 1988, 1999) and ignored studies finding shamans had average or superior mental health (see Boyer, Klopfer, Brawer and Kawai 1964; noll 1983; ripinsky-naxon 1993; Walsh 2001; stephen and suryani 2000; van ommeren et al. 2004).

Whitley also misinterpreted key findings in the richards et al. (1988) study. these researchers found most creative individuals functioned well in daily life, which indicated a high degree of mental health. some creative individuals had few symptoms or mild symptoms. As a result, they did not qualify for a psy-chopathological diagnosis. in addition, the richards, et al. study used everyday activities to identify creativity. research findings on everyday creativity are not necessarily representative of research data on shamanic or artistic creativity (Benyshek 2012).

it is important to remember that shamans are not exclusively artists. sha-mans serve many societal roles: psychotherapist, physician, diagnostician, spir-itual and/or religious functionary (Krippner 1991), masseuse (leavitt 1997),


herbalist (Joshi 2004), and more. moreover, the concept of art, usually refer-ring to the fine arts that are “modes of expression that use skill or imagina-tion in the creation of aesthetic objects, environments, or experiences that can be shared with others” (Arts 2009), is culture specific (Adajian 2007; Bowman 2006), historical (martindale 1999a), and recently developed in the West (soffer and Conkey 1997), started in the 18th century (Adajian 2007). the concept fine art generally excludes objects or actions that were created for shamanic utilitar-ian purposes such as containing and focusing power, divination, communication with purported spirits, performing rituals, or altering consciousness.

shamans appear to represent a unique set of creators possibly due to the transformation that occurs during apprenticeship when “power,” i.e., voluntary regulation, is gained over hallucinations and purported spirits (see Benyshek 2012; legerski 2006; stephen and suryani 2000).

Recent Research on Contemporary Artists as Shamans my 2012 study undertook a rigorous theoretical comparison of traditional sha-mans and contemporary artists using archival data from psychology, philosophy, art history, archaeology, anthropology, and the underutilized field of creativity studies. i focused on properties of creativity found in of artistic persons, crea-tive processes, and environmental press that, through art products, communi-cate with audiences and individuals. As a visionary artist and poet, i contrib-uted an integrated artist-researcher voice through arts-based inquiry methods. Artist-shamans from traditional cultures (hitherto neglected by most art his-torical studies) were featured. the creative processes of art audiences validated the results.

multidirectional comparisons were structured by properties in an operation-alized and cross-culturally validated definition of shaman initially proposed by Krippner and then given minor refinements to better reflect data on shamans:

A shaman is a socially designated spiritual practitioner who obtains informa-tion in ways not available to the shaman’s community through the voluntary regulation of the shaman’s own attention, which is used for the benefit of the shaman’s community and its members.

These necessary properties must all be fulfilled for an individual to qualify as a shaman.many shamans and artists were found to use similar technologies, meaning the “practical applications of knowledge” or “a manner of accomplishing a task es-pecially using technical processes, methods, or knowledge” (technology 2011) to regulate attention, obtain information, and translate what they discovered

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and experienced into objects providing benefits to others. in this way, many sha-mans and some contemporary artists can be viewed as inhabiting and creating systadial cultures. A general overview of the study’s results is presented below.

Four artists from traditional cultures – norval morrisseau (ojibwe), Kim Kum hwa (Korean), Pablo Amaringo (Peruvian mestizo), and Jóska soós (hun-garian) – individually fulfilled all necessary properties defining shaman. the fol-lowing theoretical model describes shamanic artists who fulfill all defining prop-erties of shaman.

Shamanic artists are likely to come from families with clusters of shamans and sha-manic traits, such as musicality and purported psi abilities, receive early support for their talents, and begin learning shamanic myths, songs, and other kinds of information during childhood. there is likely to be a genetic basis for some shamanic talents as seen in studies on musical ability and purported psi talents.

Shamanic artists receive social designation through culture-specific titles that indicate a practicing shaman. social designation is also seen through recogni-tion of shamanic illness and other signs of calling to shamanism, including an-drogyny, transliminality, need for solitude, and experiences of communication from spirits. social support is also provided through structured apprenticeships and, after initiation, important social roles.

Shamanic-artists are spiritual practitioners who use creative processes to en-gage the unconscious, archetypes, divinity, alternate states of consciousness, numinous inspiration, collective unconscious, purported paranormal realms and entities, and experiences of the sacred. shamanic beliefs, experiences, and prac-tices are structured and understood through traditional shamanic cosmologies.

Shamanic artists voluntarily regulate attention through a variety of processes, including an increase in brain synchronization and slower brain wave patterns, traits and abilities influenced by kinds and numbers of neurotransmitter re-ceptors, plus changes in dopamine levels that result in divergent thinking, less inhibition, synthesis of disparate elements, novel associations, and experienc-es of ecstasy and journeys to spirit worlds. the use of concentration, entheo-gens, meditation, ritual, food restriction, sleep deprivation, music, sonic driving, dancing, occult practices, and other methods also regulate attention.

Shamanic artists, as creators, tend to have certain personality traits and abilities, such as tolerance of ambiguity, androgyny, regression in service of ego, positive disintegration, purported psi abilities, transliminality, ability to cross thresholds of consciousness, entry into imaginal realms, mysticism, exceptional dream re-call, extra sensitivity, fluid boundaries, a belief in so-called magical thinking, and experiences of spiritual emergence that result in transpersonal orientation. these qualities also enhance imagination, heighten intuition, and strengthen empathy.


through a medical model, some of these traits, beliefs, and actions are some-times seen as symptoms of mental illness, especially schizotypy. nonetheless, shamanic artists – as typical of many highly creative individuals – also generally showed resilience, ego-strength, and high daily functioning.

Shamanic artists access information generally unavailable to their communities, the art audiences, because the aforementioned traits, training, and experiences, as dynamic systems, provide opportunities for experiences that allow shamanic artists to access information that is generally unavailable to individuals without these properties and processes. As a result, shamans can voluntarily achieve al-ternate states of consciousness.

For an artist to fully qualify as a shamanic artist, all defining properties of sha-man must be fulfilled including social designation, spiritual practitioner, volun-tary regulation of attention, access of information unavailable to the artist’s community, and creation of art with the intention of providing benefits to the art audience.

A second, larger category of contemporary artists was found to fulfill some, but not all, properties defining shaman. these artists were labeled as shamanlike and were seen to have family resemblances to shamanic artists. Family resem-blance refers to “members of a category may be related to one another without all members having any properties in common that define the category” (lakoff 1987: 12). Almost all of the traits, experiences, talents, and processes found in shamanic artists were also found, to varying degrees, in shamanlike artists. When considering the clusters of traits and patterns of behaviors found in con-temporary artists with family resemblances to shamans, the following key find-ings stood out.

Shamanlike contemporary artists who are not members of traditional shamanic societies usually lack explicit social designation as shamans. there are artists, such as Joseph Beuys and Jim morrison, who were self-identified shamans. such sha-mans are also occasionally found in traditional societies; however, self-identified shamans are believed to have weaker powers.

Some contemporary artists might receive implicit social designation as shamans. there may be a second avenue of social designation that is implicit. Art audi-ences receive psychological, social, physiological, and/or spiritual benefits from some works of art. if art audience processes are found to be adequately similar to processes found in traditional shamanic clients, then some art audiences, as groups and as individuals, may be implicitly designating subsets of contempo-rary artists as shamans.

Shamanlike artists do not generally benefit from the kinds of social support pro-vided to shamans. there appears to be forms of social recognition, support, and training available to shamans and shamanic artists that are not readily available

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to most contemporary artists. in traditional societies, signs of shamanic talents are often respected and shamanic illness can lead to apprenticeship. training includes interpreting purported visions, spirit contact, and other paranormal experiences via shamanic myths, beliefs, and cosmologies, which give structure and respected purpose to these experiences. shamanic apprentices learn to vol-untarily alter states of consciousness, and develop skills that strengthen, and utilize their talents. After initiation, a shaman serves an important social role. these forms of social support, role, respect, and training appear to transform and strengthen the mental health of shamans.

nontraditional societies do not have ways to identify shamanic illness that has the potential to be transformed into a practicing shaman. the traits, tal-ents, and experiences of shamanlike artists are not given meaning through sha-manic myths and cosmologies. Contemporary artists do not receive training on how to alter consciousness and regulate attention, develop spiritual practices, or provide benefits to others. Artists are often marginalized, even feared, in nontraditional societies. the important benefits they provide are not widely recognized. these social realities may negatively affect the mental health status of some artists.

Shamanlike artists use artistic creativity in forms of spiritual practices. Contem-porary artists received spiritual inspiration from divination (enjai eele and Am-nue eele), visions (Allen Ginsberg, William Blake, lauren raine), séances (hilma af Klint, James merrill), mediumship (František Kupka), dreams (lord Byron, this author), the Zeitgeist (Wassily Kandinsky), ghosts (louise erdrich, susan hiller, von Goethe), divine light (henri matisse), deity in the form of wilderness (thomas Cole), and an art spirit that was believed to animate artworks and com-municate with audiences (robert henri). many artists created art as a spiritual practice, without believing in a culture-specific shamanic cosmology. For exam-ple, Constantin Brancusi spoke of portraying a fish, not through illustrative de-piction, but by expressing “the flesh of its spirit” (shanes, n.d.).

Funk (2000) and levy (2001) recognized how altered states of consciousness and nonordinary states of mind can result from transpersonal sources of inspira-tion and “are likely to occur to those at higher developmental levels since one’s ego boundaries become ever more permeable and open to the numinous….” (Funk 2000: 58). then, artists and geniuses can access transcendent conscious-ness and perceive “cosmic patterns existing beyond newtonian space and time” (ibid. 2000: 59).

Shamanlike artists voluntarily regulate attention, using a variety of talent, skills, experiences, and practices, to obtain information that is generally unavailable to mem-bers of art audiences. Artists sometimes undergo destabilized or mildly patho-logical personality states that can be catalysts for change and creativity, leading


to shifts in attention, productive regression in service of ego, positive disin-tegration, and then reintegration into a stronger synthesis of being. shaman-like artists might engage in intense concentration, enter liminal states, explore imaginal reality, utilize alternate states of consciousness, communicate with purported spirits, or undergo mystical experiences. these experiences can be translated into works of art that then offer audience members opportunities for limited, contained, and structured experiences of these states.

shamanlike artists are likely to have passed through the deficiency creativity stage (see rhodes 1997) to meet needs such as safety, belonging, self-esteem, and love, or during a healing process to address previous hurts, and may qualify as wounded healers.

Deficiency need creativity can also be used to resolve personal problems, such as troubled relationships or past traumas, or simply to rebuild boundaries and regain balance. such art can help others to resolve problems, heal traumas, remember the past, establish boundaries, find balance, discover meaning, and even achieve soul retrieval.

Deficiency creativity can evolve into being creativity, where growth needs are met and self-actualization occurs. this change process can occur during the creation of a single work of art, across a period of years, or in a series of cycles wherein deficiency creativity is integrated with being creativity.

there is also a “postconventional level of development” described by Funk as “well-integrated...ego development” that “is likely to facilitate inspired creativ-ity and genius” (ibid. 2000: 66) and is probably typical of shamanic artists and some shamanlike artists. Furthermore:

"Postconventional development is more likely to allow for non-ordinary sources to influence the creator, be they dreams, primary thought processes, transcendent states, and so on. this is so because the rigid boundaries of the conventional egoic stance have become more permeable. the subject/object dis-tinction, so crucial to ordinary functioning as well as to scientific endeavor, becomes increasingly less powerful, more transparent as constructs, as devel-opment proceeds. thus, the barriers to numinous experience become less de-fended, less rigid." (ibid. 2000: 66)

Art audiences receive many important benefits from art created by shaman-like artists. Beneficial intent may be a key quality that differentiates shamanlike artists from artists without shamanic properties.

Benefits provided by the arts may be social, psychological, physiological, or spiritual in nature. harriet Beecher stowe’s novel, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, helped stoke the fire that eventually freed slaves in the united states. through a kind of soul retrieval, martha Graham’s dance, Lamentation, helped a traumatized au-dience member grieve for a son suddenly killed in an accident. seneca/tuscaro-

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ran indian George longfish’s representation of native American genocide gave ojibwe writer and art historian, molly mcGlennen (2004), spirit “within the remembering of a horrific massacre…. longfish’s art draws on a sense of honor that allows truth to be pulled from all directions and the spirit to emerge from within the work in a way that heals the very wound it addresses.”

music can provoke reduce pain, anxiety, depression (Guétin et al. 2011), heart rate, blood pressure (Bradt 2009), and stress hormones, while also improving ease of movement and immune system functioning (enk et al. 2008). Artworks also evoke memories and serve as catalysts for limited degrees of disintegration, catharsis, and integration, while also strengthening immune system functions, lessening anxiety and depression, increasing productivity, forming community, and promoting longevity.

Due to the intent to benefit others, shamanlike artists are generally in, or have evolved through, the generative developmental stage (Benyshek 2012), de-fined by erikson as a concern for “establishing and guiding the next generation” (1950: 267) and a general desire to work for the benefit of others.

Important Considerations for Shamanlike Artists

While artists can potentially develop some skills, talents, and practices related to shamanism, there are serious ethical considerations involved in practicing shamanism. Without extensive training in traditional methods from a master shaman who determines when an apprentice is ready for initiation, a practi-tioner may not have adequate knowledge to provide safety to clients, as seen in the tragic deaths of participants in a sweat lodge “ceremony” officiated by a charismatic self-help guide writer and “spiritual guru” (Ferran 2010; ortega 2011). Artists from nontraditional societies may be viewed as inauthentic by some members of traditional shamanic cultures (see rose 1992) and might be accused of cultural appropriation.

Ways to develop shamanism in the West were described by Kremer in his ar-ticle, “shamanic inquiry as recovery of indigenous mind: toward an egalitar-ian exchange of Knowledge.” to remedy the problems associated with cultural starvation resulting from “the loss of indigenous conversations in eurocentered societies” (1999: 131), Kremer shared:

"i find it only legitimate to write about shamanism if what i write is true to my own shamanic tradition…. We can only be proper participants in shamanic exchange and dialogue if we know who we are as indigenous people. otherwise we should take our hands off of other cultures." (ibid. 1999: 129)

Kremer also stressed, “As long as we think writing about shamanism is about ‘them,’ we remain unconscious of shamanism in us” (ibid. 1999:128).


Conclusionthe trajectory of ideas linking shamans and artists can be found within myths and followed through many fields of study. until recently, these multiple sources of data were not integrated into a theoretical model of artists as shamans. how-ever, a recent study demonstrated multiple similarities between these two roles.

the ideas offered herein may also provide insight and inspire transformation in artists, art audience members, and arts engaged institutions. Perhaps, with more knowledge and developed skills, these populations can receive greater ben-efits from the arts. museums can structure exhibits so as to promote receipt of these benefits and educate the art audience about these benefits. Performance venues can present concerts as shamanic rituals. Art schools can teach students ways to alter consciousness and obtain information, supporting development of transliminality and higher stages of psychological development. shamanlike contemporary artists can be given respected social roles.

this historical overview, combined with findings from recent research, pro-vides a cross-disciplinary understanding of artists as shamans that can serve as a foundation for future studies. in addition, this information may inspire, edu-cate, and benefit artists, art audiences, and art institutions, potentially leading to healing and spiritual transformation in these interrelated systems

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Barbara Wilhelmi

Perspectives on the arts of Parbati

Methodical standards researching spatial stagingsEpistemological Remarks

recently a sculpture of a Celtic prince of the 8th century BCe was presented in front of an audience in an archeological museum. the guide tried to explain the object. she had done some research on the strong legs and came to the conclu-sion:

the voluminous legs should serve for a better stability. she continued with the little protective shield and explained, that the small size was necessary be-cause otherwise a big part of the sculpture would have been hidden (Fig. 1).

this example shows how the artistic perception and meaning is neglected or even ignored. the question is, who forces to a strict interpretation? Why seek-ing the signification instead of significance? Wouldn`t it be better to allow to see „something else“?

the aesthetic perception in the dimensions of art is out of focus in most of the historical, cultural and religious research.

rituals and actions of shamans are usually not considered as a type of art movements. marilyn Walker noticed, that the language in researching shaman-ic actions appears as text. „the language shamans use in ritual, including the language of songs and chants, has been studied by western science primarily as text, in which sound has been spatialized into writing“ (2001: 35).

though researchers recently looked at the music and epic traditions as a form of art, a lack has to be observed in aesthetic art theory referring the arrange-ments and performances of shamans. the academic standards and the methods of historical and cultural science are focused on compatible definitions and dif-ferentiations.

242 Barbara Wilhelmi

they are based on certain prem-ises and conditions, a hypothesis in order to be able to formulate perspectives in advance of the re-search which leads through the in-vestigation. But on the other hand it excludes unexpected views and preordain the result.

to go into details: the shamanic action is fre-

quently categorized under the perspective of aim and purpose. A dance may be seen as a means to drive out evil spirits with the consequence, that the dance seems merely to exist as such function. Finally this shamanic dance may belong to a paradigm and rests in being healing ceremony by expelling evil spirits. But a dance is not a cer-tain rhythm or steps.

Another example of a tang-Ki in taiwan shows the difference of understanding. in taiwan a tang-Ki usually gives advice, while sit-ting on a chair in trance, painting. the helpers oint the pencil and sheet after sheet they renew the paper and they translate the sig-

nificance of the spoken and written words to the one, seeking for advice. the process avoids the desire to understand the written sheeds literally.

to sum up: even proceeding in a phenomenological way in observing processes, the ar-

tistic impressions of the shamanic actions are out of interest despite handcrafts, clothes and unique pieces. But on the contrary it is obvious that the arrange-ments and spatial stagings call for a multisensory approach and reading.

Fig. 1. Celtic Prince of Glauberg in Germany (photo: B.Wilhelmi)

243Perspectives on the arts of Parbati

Spatial stagings – a multisensory approach and readingit could be interesting to integrate concepts of art theory in observing shamanic actions.

specific terms are getting importance for the artistic approach: the spatial staging as a form of mise-en-scène is situational, tied to a time and

place. in art theory the analysis of the reception has come into focus, instead of the producer of a sculpture or a painting (Rezipientenanalyse versus Produzen-tenästhetik (Kilger 2004: 31). the important question does not seem to be: Who makes and arranges the objects, but the fact, that this visual existence is able to produce meanings and different possibilities of perception.

in the context of cultural performances we come to the point that the open view turns to new dimensions and engages essential components. the open view reveals a wideness. Art has no 'purpose' and in some way it is incompatible, mak-ing visible 'something behind'. We are forced to go behind the form in order to perceive the subtle effects of a piece of work. the art historian eva schürmann worked on Sehen als Praxis. Ethisch-ästhetische Studien zum Verhältnis von Sicht und Einsicht and she refers to the importance of „metaphorical viewing“ (2008).

the metaphor contains a rich imagery and makes sure that we should not perceive an art-object in a straight and literally way (ibid. 2008: 177).

this leads us to a new complexion on the perception of shamanic acting as a transforming process to a turn to see something under a different light.

Philosophical remarkstwo philosophers are important in this context: Friedrich nietzsche and mar-tin heidegger.

An epistemological view on the philosophy of Friedrich nietzsche shows specific characteristics. he wrote his philosophy in poems and aphorisms. Art serves to tell the truth. to his opinion it seems to be the fitting and adequate form to express philosophic thoughts. the way of thinking grows stronger be-cause of that. nietzsche pointed out to the moment of the reception that con-tains infinity too. he remarked, that a work of art was born while suffering but later it will serve to heal the viewers – those who regard on it (nietzsche 2009). that reminds us to the shaman´s way of healing.

martin heidegger wrote about the „origin of work of art“ in Der Ursprung des Kunstwerks. he refers to the antique Greek word sym-ballein, that means 'throw together' in the sense of a combination. heidegger comes to the point, that the „work of art reveals something different from that, what has to be seen in „real-ity“ (heidegger 1990: 10). the German term Wirklichkeit in the texts cannot be translated.


Dealing with what is out of disposition and what is not available reminds us to the shaman´s contact with the other-world.

there is further thought about the en-ergy of a „work of art“. once again heidegger refers to a Greek word: er-gon, that means 'work' and it has the same root as the word en-ergy. heidegger: „work in the antique sense of er-gon... the substantial existence (heidegger: 'sein') is the en-er-geia, that means it contains infinity and endless movements – more than modern energies do (heidegger 1990: 65).

seeing, hearing, smelling and sense impressions are in no respect meaning-less. they can´t be replaced by investigating the intention of the performers. in fieldwork i encouraged shamans to talk about the concepts of their sessions. mostly they answered in a way they presumed that members of other cultures would expect to hear. Probably they were convinced that it was impossible to express what really happened. But on the artistic and metaphoric level we could share the moments in an open view and open mind.

not focussing the conceptual considerations gives the viewers the chance of having complex spaces of experiences and reflections. of course information is important, e.g. the shamaness tells the researchers from whom she receives the wisdom in communication with the spirits – or as a second example, the sherpa shaman answers why he has to sing all strophes of a song in a complete form during a session. But this information cannot explain, what happens and occurs. By the way, the same applies for Artists too. their answer may be disappointing when you ask them about their paintings.

Following this idea, that the artistic impressions of the presentations and perceptions of shamanic ceremonies are not of marginal importance, we real-ize, that it is necessary to create a specific language to be able to express the inherent dynamism of an artistic process. A visual language is required, that is intelligible but does not necessarily have to be readable verbally.

in art theory the following words in terminology are used: 'Polygonal' and 'multilayered circumstances', 'remaining in flux', 'intensity' and 'transformation', 'mutual friction' or 'constructive tension'. the language mentions emotional im-pressions and refers to the present singular moment by using poetical expres-sions which do not aim at a purpose of the art-object or of the performance.

may be that we have to invent a new language in order to be able writing about shamanic presentations.

The shamanic presentation as Artshamans deal with several forms of art expressions: music, performances with masks and acting – combining tradition and improvisation. it is not possible to


mark clearly the borderline between handcrafts and arts. But we can say, that shamans do not merely deal with hand-crafts and art-objects, they a r e Artists.

the creations and performances, the spatial stagings of shamans are not arranged anyway. Art is not a form of decoration which is supposed to serve a more important reason, for instance the purpose: healing.

Art rather seems to be an essential necessity. the Korean researcher Kim tae-gon established a connection between Art

and shamanhood as regards of Performance. in his studies he defined five cat-egories for both, shamans and artists concerning their ceremonies and perfor-mances: the presentation, using materials, the concept, acting on stage, finally performing in front of an audience (1995: 5).

Art Performances in the 60s and shamanic ceremony

in the extended art-concepts of the 60s of the last century, actions and ar-rangements found their place. Artists create events (Fischer- lichte 2004: 12). in former times the focus was the internal experience while regarding a work of art – which might turn a man like rilke`s Apoll: „You have to change your life“ (ibid. 2004: 12).

But beside the internal experience there is also the external artistical event as a performance. For fifty years we have known the terms action art and some years later: spatial stagings which were of great importance of art expressions. erika Fischer-lichte shows in the Ästhetik des Performativen, that apart from putting the focus on presentation the artists did physical harm to their bodies – especially at the beginning. For instance the Vienna Artists and the Fluxus Group have to be mentioned here. hermann nitsch bloody actions made the horrible experience subject of discussion – and too he rendered a taboo (ibid. 2004: 22–23).

in this context, it seems to be important that the artists did not proclaim self hurting as a model of living, like some religious groups of the middle-ages did. on the contrary the chosen position of the artist is quite close to the loneliness and isolation of a shaman or shamaness (ibid. 2004: 12).

the self-reflections of artists lead to the assumption, that they proclaim a new form of communication“ – even between human being and animal. in his 'Action with the Coyote' the artist Joseph Beuys called it a as a dialogue of energy (ibid. 2004: 178). Joseph Beuys chose materials like suet, felt and honey and he brought himself in a sphere of the shaman´s way of acting.


Joseph Beuys: The Action with the Coyote

the Action with the Coyote took place in the rené Block Gallery in new York in may 1974 from 10 a.m. by 6 p.m. daily. Beuys wrapped in felt at the airport ar-rived in an ambulance at the gallery. Five days later he left America in the same way. the action took place in a bright room separated from the audience by a fence. Beuys put two pieces of felt in the middle of the room. Apart from that he brought along a walking stick, gloves an electric torch and fifty Wall street Journals to which the latest edition were added every day. Beuys showed the journals to the Coyote, who sniffed and pissed on it.

the communication took place in a different way, sometimes in a distance, sometimes the Coyote circled round the figure smelling or biting the felt to pieces. sometimes both, the felt-figure and the animal lay side by side and the Coyote tried to crawl under the felt (ibid. 2004: 179–180).

the above mentioned dialogue of energy was initiated by the chosen materi-als, which are used in energy production and energy transmission with the felt as heat-isolation or heat-accumulator.

in our context it is important to look at the artist`s concept: he presented himself in the „image of a navajo shaman“ by using felt, fur and the musical in-struments. Joseph Beuys referred to the traumatic point in American history. he tried to settle an account with the coyote as a partner. Beuys did not want to go back to the roots, but look out for a better life in the future. the connected material and spiritual life produce a certain energy, that initiates a change or a transformation (ibid. 2004: 182).

Marina Abramović

marina Abramović has exposed herself with specular art-performances and she occupies a place in art-history. the artist took no notice of the border of the bearable regarding her body and psyche. in the art-performances of marina Abramović we can find the dialogue between the human being and the animal too.

i had the chance of visiting the marta museum in herford some years ago in December 2009. i was able to watch and join a performance of marina Abramović (Fig. 2).

the artist was standing on a big black block with a large red flag in her hands and she hold the flag for a long, long time, while it was flying. the audience could see this scene after a procession (walk) and wondered how long she had been in that position before. Watching the protagonist losing her strength but still holding the flag caused the audience to react.


Room, Space and Relationship

the view on the art-dimension of the shaman`s action was methodically based on the philosophical discipline: Phenomenology.

Gaston Bachelard has to be mentioned in the context of epistemology in sci-ence. in his book Poetry of the space he defended apparent pure and objective methods concerning artistic productions as literature or paintings. As a non-positivism philosopher, his opinion was to consider not just the theoretical prop-ositions but simultaneously to allow subjective interpretations (Bachelard 2007: 9). in the eyes of Bachelard the painting is the process of unification of a pure, but unsteady subjectivity with reality (ibid. 2007: 9).

the uncountable experiences cannot be applied in a manipulative way by the artist. they are subjective, not straight-forward and arise out of a process.

in the context of shamanic and artistic spatial stagings we have to refer to the space in a special sense. space is a human and living sphere (original: Men-schlicher Raum ist erlebter Raum (Kilger 2004: 34).

Actually the sociological and philosophical discussion was about different dimensions: space considered under the perspective of the meaning or under the perspective what can be done in this room. these reflections removed the former idea of a room as a mere container.

Fig. 2. Performance with a red flag (photo: B.Wilhelmi)


the relation-room – German term: Beziehungsraum – is identified as a space where something happens in relation with human beings who are inside – even with the objects (schroer 2006: 26–47). the idea is, that the relations are cre-ated under the conditions of the rooms.

one of the examples of the relation-space is the sacred or holy room, partly a taboo zone or area.

We find a relation-space in an important story in the Bible (exodus 3) about the first meeting of moses and God. God stopped the approaching moses and told him to take off his shoes and continued: For the place wheron thou standest is the holy ground. But after that God explained to moses what the relation be-tween him and human being would be like in the future. to explain the hebrew original word Jhw:

the contact may take place anywhere in one´s life: On the way.this sentence (exodus 3) seems to be a formula for the relation-room as we

have defined above. the conversion and transformation of rooms belong to the religious and spiritual context.

it reminds us of the shaman´s lower, upper and middle world too. Coming to a conclusion about the meaning of the space in shamanhood it is

obvious that space and stagings are important. the terms art-installation and spatial-staging we found in art theory can be adapted. the room and the ob-jects of a shamanic session are not arranged by chance. neither is there a one dimensioned pattern nor is it a question of taste. moreover it seems to be an essential necessity.

At any rate they have got the power of artistic expressions. the shaman arrangement is a spatial staging. the space can be outside or

inside a house. in addition to that the session create a relationship between the viewers, moreover with the upper – lower and middle world – all times and ages – up to eternity.

Parbati`s Art: The mobile altar – an artistic view on a shamanic object

Finally this example of an artistic view to an object of a shamaness should il-lustrate the topic (Fig. 3).

Parbati rai is a nepalese shamaness who has practised for decades in her house and in a clinique near Kathmandu. she belongs to the 'rai', the people of the Kirati and she has travelled to Germany for many years to bring German people close to her culture and let them participate in her cultural background and make them understand her culture.

(Fig. 4) this picture shows an altar which she has made lacking her own altar in Kathmandu and which she could not take with to Germany. on the one hand we may look upon this mobile altar as a researcher. in that case we pay attention


Fig. 3. Parbati`s Art (photo: H. Meyerdierks)

Fig. 4. Mobile altar (photo: H. Meyerdierks)


to the special Kirati symbols we are acquainted with from literature and which we know belong to the shamans of the nepalese tribe. But on the other hand we are able to discover more.

We may see an artistic object.looking at this object in the context of a picture we might express our feel-

ing in words which are almost poetical and sensitive concerning the perception of place and situation, the person and the object.

in the context of art history and cultural science we could consider the alu-foil as an item typical to our culture but on the other hand we could see an ar-tistic object for which it is completely unimportant that it was built up local in our culture – it is nevertheless a piece of art and it cannot be explained in an one-dimensioned way.

the artistic impressions of the shamanic objects and actions are of interest and the spatial stagings call for a multisensory approach and reading.

ReferencesBachelard, G. 2007 [1957]. Poetik des Raumes. Frankfurt am main: Fischer taschenbuch

Verlag.Fischer-lichte, e. 2004. Ästhetik des Performativen. Frankfurt: suhrkamp.heidegger, m. 1990. Der Ursprung des Kunstwerks. stuttgart: Philipp reclam.Kilger, G. 2004. Das szenographische Konzept der DAsA. in G. Kilger and W. müller-

Kuhlmann (eds) Szenographie Ausstellungen und Museen, 30–35. essen: Klartext. nietzsche, F. 2009. Über Wahrheit und lüge im außermoralischen sinne (1873). in G.

Colli and m. montinari (eds) Friedrich Nietzsche. Sämtliche Werke (KsA). münchen: DtV/de Gruyter.

tae-gon, K. 1995. the symbolic ur-meaning of shamanism and performing arts. in K. tae-gon and m. hoppál (eds) Shamanism in performing arts, 1–16. Budapest: Aka-démiai Kiadó.

schroer, m. 2006. Räume, Orte, Grenzen. Frankfurt: suhrkamp.schürmann, e. 2008. Sehen als Praxis. Ethisch-ästhetische Studien zum Verhältnis von Sicht

und Einsicht. Frankfurt: suhrkamp.Walker, m. 2001. the language of shamans and the metaphysics of language: ermerg-

ing paradigms in shamanic studies. Shaman 9(1): 35–59.Wilhelmi, B. 2003. the prophetic performance in the Bible and the shamanic ritual. in m. hoppál, G. Kósa (eds) Discovery of shamanic heritage, 11–17. Budapest:

Akadémia Kiadó.



Daniel A. Kister

Shamanic artistry in a French Absurdist play

mircea eliade has stressed that a shaman is one who manipulates the spirits (1964: 8, 16), but he gives a great deal of space in his works to analyzing the symbolic patterns that shamans and other traditional myth-makers use to ma-nipulate the minds of ritual participants and drawn them into a world of mys-tery and belief. Artists sometimes use basically the same patterns to draw in-dividuals or groups into a world of mystery, but not necessarily belief. to that extent, they bear kinship with traditional shamans. one of eliade’s rumanian compatriots, eugène ionesco, does so in several of his Absurdist plays from the 1950s and 1960s, most notably his first full-length play, Amédée, ou Comment s’en débarrasser (Amédée; or How to Get Rid of It, 1952). the play derives much of its power to engage audiences from the way it roots comic-serious motifs of marital division, alienation, confinement, guilt, and death in symbolic patterns of the mythic imagination. Avant-garde Parisian theater though it is, the play manifests some of the same symbolic matrices, existential dynamics, and modes of performance that we find in traditional shaman rites for the dead in Korea. like such rites, the play centers on exorcising a bane of polluting evil; and like them, it blends laughter, fear, and wonder in lively symbolic drama.

the would-be writer Amédée Buccinioni and his wife madeleine live a tense life in the comically eerie, yet threatening confines of their apartment. mush-rooms are spreading from the adjoining bedroom, where there lies a man's corpse that for the fifteen years of their married life has been growing with "geometrical progression. . . . the incurable disease of the dead!" (1958: 21, 27–28). madeleine holds Amédée responsible for the corpse and threatens divorce (ibid. 1958: 33). he should have confessed immediately that he had killed him. "You always said you thought he was my lover," she says, "And i never denied it" (ibid. 1958: 36). Amédée quizzically replies, "oh? is that why i killed him?" (ibid. 1958: 36) "Did i really kill him?" (ibid. 1958: 38) Perhaps he is only guilty of not aiding a drowning woman (ibid. 1958: 39–40). Whatever the origin of

252 Daniel A. Kister

the burdensome corpse and the defiling mushrooms it spawns, the vague but indubitable sense of guilt associated with its presence increases as madeleine pursues her shrewish accusations throughout the second act. At the same time, the corpse's expanding mass becomes unbearable. When Amédée finally prom-ises to remove the body, madeleine bemoans, "All those wasted years, they're a dead weight" (ibid. 1958: 41).

the corpse is a comically symbolic transformation of common twentiethcen-tury themes of marital division and life lived under the threat of death. But it is much more. eliade has noted that according traditional myths, we lost long ago the "immortality, spontaneity, freedom" of our original, paradisal state and be-came what we are "today—mortal, sexual and condemned to labour—in conse-quence of a primordial murder" (1960: 60, 45). honor matthews rightly observes that ionesco's Amédée "begins as a fantastic modern parallel to the primordial myth" (1967: 209). indeed, as vague memories of murder and sexual defilement give rise to the guilt-laden atmosphere of the second act, the play traces the evo-lution of traditional symbolic perceptions of the evil of our lost-paradise state.

According to Paul ricoeur's analysis of ancient rituals in The Symbolism of Evil, human beings early became aware of evil under the guise of a contagious stain or blemish, "a quasimaterial something"—often associated with murder or sex-ual violation—“that infects as a sort of filth, that harms by invisible properties" (1967: 25). thus, in ionesco's play, are the sprouting mushrooms and spreading corpse. As ricoeur understands ritual symbolism, moreover, the dread of the impure which this stain engenders constitutes from the start, not just a fear of something physical, but an ethical, ontological dread of deadly vengeance (1967: 30). thus, faced with the threatening contagion of the corpse, madeleine re-marks early in the play, "if he'd forgiven us, he'd have stopped growing. . . . he still has a grudge against us. the dead are terribly vindictive" (ionesco 1958: 19).

ricoeur finds that a shift takes place in the human awareness of evil when a person "becomes conscious of his sin as a dimension of his existence, and no longer as a reality that haunts him" from outside. Ancient rites express this awareness in the symbol of "binding," a symbol which "expresses seizure, posses-sion, enslavement, rather than contagion and contamination" (1967: 48). in the present play, an awareness of evil as both physical stain and physical-existential bondage comes to the fore in a visionary flashback of Act ii in which madeleine, as a young bride, grumbles about being "bogged in the mud" (ionesco 1958: 49). this awareness is already implicit in the infected confinement of the apartment, and it dominates the play by the end of Act ii in the burdensome mass of the defiling corpse (ibid. 1958: 62).

in ricoeur's account, as the perception of evil as sin takes over from the more primal perception of physical defilement, symbols which "do not so much signify

253Shamanic artistry in a French Absurdist play

a harmful substance as a violated relation" dominate our apprehension of evil (1967: 7475). A person begins to perceive his or her faulty condition as one of sinful separation from the gods, relations with whom have somehow been bro-ken so that one is "abandoned" to his or her own "nothingness" (1967: 74–75). similarly, in ionesco's play, the association of the corpse with a violation of the Buccinionis' marriage bond comes to the fore in the flashback scene of Act ii. the young groom Amédée—in images of spring, flowers, and children's voices—exults in the rejuvenating joy and love which he feels as his life with madeleine begins (ionesco 1958: 47–48); but the young bride, in images of darkness, mud, mushrooms, suffocation, shrieking sounds, and piercing flames, expresses pain in the face of what she feels as sexual defilement and torture from her husband: "thorns of fire! Flames like needles, flames of ice . . . they're digging redhot pins into my flesh. A-ah!" (ibid. 1958: 50) Giving vent to feelings of abandon-ment and nothingness that in ricoeur's schema signify a recognition of inner sinfulness, she cries, "there is nothing. . . . i am a widow, i am an orphan!" (ibid. 1958: 50–51)

According to ricoeur, human beings' primal apprehension of evil as defile-ment evolves at the final stage into an awareness not only of sinful division, but of personal guilt. rooted in the earlier dread of vengeance that burdens the defiled person, guilt is expressed symbolically in the "consciousness of be-ing `burdened,' burdened by a `weight'" (1967: 101). ritual symbols of captiv-ity and infection continue to hold sway, but they are supplemented by juridical and penal symbols. At this final stage, they "are transposed `inward' to express a freedom that enslaves itself, affects itself, and infects itself by its own choice" (1967: 108 ff., 152). the comically threatening, lost-paradise world of Amédée is a world marked not simply by infection, captivity, possession, division, death, and loss of innocence; it is a world in some way imputable to the Buccinionis themselves. the corpse does not just grow; it grows out of vengeance for some-thing that they have done. madeleine says, "if he'd forgiven us, he'd stopped growing" (ionesco 1958: 19). At the turning point of Act ii, Amédée suggests that they are responsible for their situation and could recover their primal in-nocence, "if we loved each other" (ibid. 1958: 52).

the play’s imaginative power to move audiences springs not so much from the playwrights’ symbolic inventiveness, but from his original use of symbol-ic patterns that seem somehow ingrained in the human imagination. Fanciful avant-garde farce though it be, Amédée; or How to Get Rid of It displays layer upon layer of symbolic remnants that age-old encounters with the evil of our life have left stratified in our subconscious. it gives evidence that, as eliade has said, "the progressive de-sacralization of modern man has altered the content of his spiritual life without breaking the matrices of his imagination" (1961: 18).


modern entertainment though it is, ionesco’s play manifests a symbolic and dramatic kinship with traditional Korean shamanic rites for the dead. shaman rites of contact with Gods and spirits continue to support the imaginative and spiritual life of many persons on the Korean peninsula into the twenty-first Century. Worship, dramatic artistry, psychotherapy, and comic play become one as the shaman, usually a woman, entertains, cajoles, and invokes the spirits, dramatically displays their presence and power, and manipulates the minds and hearts of her clients so as to assuage their anxieties at a time of illness, finan-cial reverses, or death. A rite for the dead is held sometime after the funeral to bring peace to both the deceased and those left behind. it takes place in a room or yard decked with paper lotus blossoms and other paper-craft Buddhist sym-bols that vary by region. in seoul, we find a flower-covered "gate of thorns" to the other world along with images of the Buddha and the ten Kings of the Bud-dhist World of Darkness, fearsome judges of the underworld. on the east Coast, we have paper Buddhist lanterns and a colorful paper boat for the soul to take to the "other shore" (Kister 1997: 107–111).

Korean shaman death rites reflect a primal anxiety about defilement. they begin with a purification ritual, and the southwest rite for the dead is, itself, called "rite of Purification." As in Amédée, the evil to be exorcised is not simply a matter of external, physical pollution. the rites release sal, an inexplicable nox-ious force that is believed to give rise to disease, misfortune, and death. As such, it is a form of pollution. At the same time, however, sal signifies bad blood or rancor within a family. in ricoeur's topology, it is a form of sin. on the whole, sal, like the corpse in Amédée, has associations of defilement, possession, and sinful division. the soul of one who has died an untimely or violent death has a particularly urgent need for purification. it is surely unsettled and a threat to those alive. it is filled with han, a kind of sal characterized by bitter regret, ran-cor, and resentment. A manifestation of what ricoeur would term sin, but not necessarily guilt, han is not just the bane of the dead. it can, for example, bur-den the heart of a Korean woman in a traditional, male-dominated Confucian household. it burdens madeleine in ionesco's play.

rites for the dead achieve family healing and release from sal and han in part through a psycho-dramatic episode of reconciliation between the deceased and the bereaved. through the agency, and sometimes mediumship, of the shaman, the deceased addresses final words to the family and vents any pent-up feelings that could hinder peace. At the same time, family members work out their own grief and han under the compassionate guidance of a witty shaman and sup-ported by sympathetic friends and onlookers. the rites achieve healing and re-lease also through the artistic manipulation of symbols. A shamanic rite from the southwest of Korea achieves release in the gopuri, a ritual centered on the


untying of seven large loops knotted in a long white cloth. embodying a pun on the words for loop knot (go) and bitterness (go), the knots symbolize the bitter tangles of han that life has left bound in a person's heart; in ricoeur's schematol-ogy, they symbolize the binding force of accumulated sin, but without implying guilt. Dressed in white, the shaman slowly unties the knots in graceful, dance-like movements that, along with the accompanying chant, evoke both sorrow and hopedfor peaceful release.

ionesco's play initially displays the bane of evil that threatens the Buccinionis for the theatrical fun of it; but the play, too, is a salpuri, an exorcism, a modern-day "rite of Purification." transposing age-old ritual symbols of pollution and sin onto the modern French stage, it progresses as a drive to exorcise the in-scrutable bane of the fearfully spreading corpse and release the rancorous knots of han that Amédée and his wife have allowed to bind up their married life. in the symbolic dynamics of both Amédée and the southwest rite for the dead, the double consciousness of evil as something physically impure and sinfully binding forms a single dramatic movement. the symbolic action of Amédée begins with the image of the corpse as a deadly contagion, but achieves its climax in terms of the corpse's massed power to close in on the Buccinionis. the southwest "rite of Purification" signifies cleansing from impurity, but achieves its climax in the ritual untying of knots of sin.

the kinship between ionesco’s play and shamanic rites that i stress in this paper lies in the dynamics of their symbolic artistry. Andreas lommel has said that a shaman "is not merely a medicine man, . . . he is above all an artistically productive man," a person "who gives ever-renewed shape and fresh life to the images that live in his group's imagination" (1967: 8, 140). the main argument of this paper is that the power of ionesco’s play to engage audiences derives in great part from its use of symbolic patterns that underlie the dynamics of tra-ditional myths and shamanic rites. more significant for an understanding of the dynamics of shamanic rites themselves, however, are two corollaries to that argument: 1) the power of traditional myths and rituals to engage communi-ties of believers derives in great part from their artistic use of symbolic patterns similar to those of ionesco’s play. 2) the fact that basically the same symbolic patterns provide the life force for two such culturally remote forms of dramatic artistry suggests that these symbolic patterns are not the ad hoc inventions of either the playwright or shamans, but a given of the human psychic make-up. Both forms of dramatic artistry derive their power from an original use of sym-bolic, perhaps archetypal patterns that seem part of our human psychological heritage. they derive their power from a compelling imaginative logic of the mind and heart that seem imbedded in our subconscious.

eliade sees traditional seasonal rites as seeking to recover an original paradi-siacal time, fresh from the hands of the gods (1954: 49–92). As it moves toward


its end, ionesco’s play does the same, but without gods. From various mythic explanations of evil in our symbolic heritage, ricoeur singles out the myth of the loss of paradise as that which best expresses the ultimate intentionality of the symbol of defilement. According to the implications of this symbol, infec-tion presumes a primal soundness; a blemish presupposes an original purity. likewise, according to the implications of the myth of the loss of paradise, "evil is not symmetrical with the good; . . . it is the staining, the darkening, the dis-figuring of an innocence, a light, and a beauty that remain. however radical evil may be, it cannot be as primordial as goodness" (1967: 156). in sharp contrast with other Absurdist plays, Amédée displays human existence as subject to the full terms of the myth of the loss of paradise. For the infectious evil symbolized by the corpse finally looses its grip on Amédée, if not on his wife, and becomes a symbol of transcendent, paradisaic freedom. When Amédée finally drags the polluting corpse out of the house, astonishment in the face of a marital paradise-lost suddenly gives way to the wonder of paradisiacal freedom (ionesco 1958: 73 ff.). it does so in a display of images of light and ascension, such as eliade finds in shaman’s dreams, visions, and ritual séances (1964: 58–62, 115–135, 477–486).

in the visionary flashback of Act ii of the play, the young Amédée introduces images of transcendent freedom and harmony which point toward a clearing of the play's noxious atmosphere. Addressing his new bride, he wistfully urges, "if only you wished ... nature would be so bountiful. ... wings on our feet, our limbs like wings ... our shoulders wings ... gravity abolished" (ibid. 1958: 50). he tells her, "What is withered can grow green again. What is separated can be reunited. What is no longer will be again" (ibid. 1958: 51).

By the end of Act ii, the huge feet of the corpse have spread out from the adjoining bedroom onto the stage. Finally, at midnight, Amédée opens the shut-ters; and as the deathridden confines of the apartment open to a night bursting with flowers and radiant with rivers of light, a sense of mystical wonder sud-denly overcomes him. he exclaims:

look, madeleine ... all the acacia trees are aglow. their blossoms are bursting open and shooting up to the sky. . . . the milky Way is like creamy fire. honey-combs, countless galaxies, comets' tails, celestial ribbons, rivers of molten silver, and brooks, lakes and oceans of palpable light. . . . infinite space! (ibid. 1958: 59)

At the same time, the sprouting mushrooms suddenly loose their noxious sense and give rise, rather, to an entrancing vision, as certain types of ecstasy-inducing mushrooms do in actual fact in some shamanist cultures. A "varied play of light seems to come not only from the window, but from all sides . . . from the furniture and the mushrooms, big and small—the young ones sprouting on the floor are shining like glowworms" (ibid. 1958: 59). With no use for mystical


wonder, madeleine simply tells Amédée to get rid the corpse. By now, it seems to be "dragging the whole house with it and tugging at the entrails of the two principal characters" (ibid. 1958: 62). it manifests something of the phenomenal increase in bodily weight that is said to be experienced in Chinese exorcisms (thompson 1969: 162).

As Act iii begins, Amédée has finally managed to lug the corpse out the win-dow into a square bright with a radiant moon and "huge clusters of stars . . . comets and shooting stars, fireworks" (ibid. 1958: 66). the action moves quickly in a kaleidoscopic display of improbable farce and paradisaic symbols that cre-ate a scene reminiscent of the theatrical magic that eliade finds in a shaman's séance. When a drunk soldier gives the body a tug, it lands in a heap, making a racket (ibid. 1958: 70). the body coils around Amédée's waist, and he spins round and round and gets encumbered in its legs. then suddenly, the corpse opens out like a sail or a huge parachute; and its head has become a sort of glow-ing banner. Amédée's head can be seen appearing above the rear wall, drawn up by the parachute. he is flying up and away (ibid. 1958: 73). madeleine anxiously calls, "Amédée! Amédée! Come down. . . . You can come home, the mushrooms have bloomed" (ibid. 1958: 7576). Amédée continues rising, however, and dis-appears.

like many Absurdist plays, ionesco’s play displays the disharmonious, death-burdened state of paradise lost. At the end, however, in a radical break with most Absurdist plays, it surprises us with wondrous release and transcendent flight. Amédée's ascent does not recover marital bliss. As eliade says of the clas-sic visionary flight of siberian shamans, however, it recovers momentarily the sought-for freedom of paradise. initiatory séances make a public theatrical dis-play of what the shaman encounters on ecstatic journeys. ritual tree climbing and props colored like the rainbow signify ascent to the heavens; bird costumes display the shaman's "new, magical body in animal form" (eliade 1964: 99, 156, see also 117–118, 125, 135).

in a display of wondrous release from the deadly bane of the past fifteen years, ionesco’s play ends as eliade says a shaman rite ends, in "a spectacle un-equaled in the world of daily experience," a spectacle revelatory of "another world—the fabulous world of the gods and magicians . . . where the `laws of nature' are abolished, and a certain superhuman `freedom' is exemplified and made dazzlingly present" (1964: 551). Korean shamans are not believed to take ecstatic journeys to the realm of the spirits, but to be possessed by the spirits, who descend into them or another person present. Korean shaman rites, more-over, are not quite the spectacles that eliade describes. still, something of the fabulous world that he speaks of comes alive when a seoul shaman bedazzles spectators with a lightning-swift knife dance and with the eagerly awaited event


in which a shaman initiate's freedom from the ordinary laws of nature appears most evident, a dance barefoot on high raised chopper blades.

Korean shaman rites for the dead end in more subdued fashion, but the peaceful release from life's woe that these aesthetically appealing rites evoke comes close to being paradisiacal. in the final episode of a seoul rite, the sha-man dresses in the elegant garb of the "Abandoned Princess," the spirit through whose power the shaman is believed to lead a soul through death. taking the role of this spirit, she escorts the deceased to the other world in a graceful dance to the stately music of drum, cymbals, and pipe, processing around tables of of-ferings stacked with colorful paper flowers and before a flowerbedecked "gate of thorns" to the other world. she makes three rounds as a butterfly, three dis-playing long flowing sleeves in a gesture of leading, three whisking away hinder-ing spirits with a fan, and three using a knife magically to cut away obstacles to peace. in this way, she transforms the passage through death into an event of great beauty and peace.

Giving renewed symbolic life to traditional perceptions of evil and mythic longings for release in his fascinating play, ionesco is very much a modern sha-man. With varying degrees of dramatic success, he traces mythic and ritual pat-terns in other plays as well, most obviously in his later verbose and imaginative-ly over-laden plays: Tuer sans gages (The Killers, 1959), Le piéton de l’air (Stroller in the Air, 1963), and La soif et la faim (Hunger and Thirst, 1966). other Absurdist playwrights likewise play with traditional patterns of the mythic imagination, most notably: samuel Beckett in Waiting for Godot (1953), harold Pinter in The Birthday Party (1958), and Jean Genet in his elaborate play of mirrors, Le Bal-con (The Balcony, 1957). Consciously or unconsciously, however, ionesco and his Absurdist colleagues normally evoke mythic symbolic patterns in order to strip them of their original psycho-mental significance (Kister 1973: passim, 2010: 262–270). Amédée is the noteworthy exception.

the fact that both ionesco’s modern play Amédée and traditional Korean sha-manic rites employ similar imaginative patterns to draw audiences into their worlds of playful mystery suggest that those symbolic patterns are not simply created by the playwright or myth maker, but are somehow embedded in our minds so as to structure basic, perhaps archetypal drives for transcendent free-dom and wholeness. the fact that shamanic rites succeed in part by employ-ing such imaginative patterns suggests that a part of a shaman’s powers con-sist not in manipulating the spirit world, but in artistically manipulating innate structures of the imagination to give them renewed life for his or her group. As a modern-day shaman in Amédée; or How to Get Rid of It, ionesco gives renewed life to age-old symbols of evil and mythic longings for release. to modern French audiences raised on realist drama, this Avant-garde play is bizarre; but it does


only what Korean death rites have done for centuries, transform the defilement of death into an event of beauty, wonder, and release. on the other hand, seen in their imaginative resonances with ionesco’s play, the death rites reveal them-selves as not just indigenous artifacts of Korean folk culture, but as an expres-sion of a universal human urge. if the symbolic motifs that ricoeur and eliade find in traditional myths are somehow imbedded in human consciousness as expressions of primal desires for wholeness, freedom, and release from bond-age, that can explain much of the power that the motifs have in both the play and Korean shamanic rites.

Referenceseliade, m. 1954. Cosmos and history: The myth of the eternal return. transl. P. mairet. re-

print: new York: harper 1967. eliade, m. 1959. The sacred and the profane: The nature of religion. transl. W. r. trask.

new York: harcourt.eliade, m. 1960. Myths, dreams and mysteries: The Encounter between contemporary faiths

and archaic realities. transl. P. mairet. reprint: new York: harper 1967. eliade, m. 1961. Images and symbols: Studies in religious symbolism. transl. Philip mairet.

reprint. new York: sheed and Ward 1969.eliade, m. 1964. Shamanism: Archaic techniques of ecstasy. transl. W. r. trask. Bollingen

series 76. 1st ed. Princeton: Princeton university Press.ionesco, e. 1958. Amédée; or how to get rid of it. in Four plays. transl. D. Watson, 1–89.

new York: Grove. Amédée, ou Comment s’en débarrasser. Theatre, i. Paris: Gallimard, 1954–1966. Pp. 257 ff.

Kister, D. A. 1973. Some imaginative motifs from primitive sacred myths in the theater of Eugène Ionesco. Diss. university of southern California.

Kister, D. A. 1997. Korean shamanist ritual: Symbols and dramas of transformation. Buda-pest: Akademiai Kiado.

Kister, D. A. 2010. Shamanic worlds of Korea and Northeast Asia. seoul: Jimoondang.lommel, A. 1967. Shamanism: The beginnings of art. transl. m. Bullock. new York:

mcGraw-hill. matthews, h. 1967. The primal curse: The myth of Cain and Abel in the theatre. new York:

Chatto and Windus. ricoeur, P. 1967. The symbolism of evil. transl. e. Buchanan. Boston: Beacon Press.



Carla Corradi Musi

The shamanic works of Minsalim Timergazeev and other artists of the First International Woodcarving Festival of Uvat

minsalim timergazeev (1950-), who lives in tobol’sk, in Western siberia, practices the profession both of shaman and artist, a carver prevalently of wood, bone, and mammoth tusks found on the banks of the river after the spring thaw. his works are linked to the magic and mythical world of the shamanic system of beliefs of his ancestors, handed down from fables, legends and folk tales.1 in addition, he has long been inspired by the traditional art of the ob-ugrians, which he has been able to study closely, participating in expeditions organized by the museum of Fine Arts of tyumen’. the ob-ugric area, thanks to new ar-chaeological discoveries and research in progress, has recently attracted also the interest of other siberian artists who draw on ancient traditions.

minsalim timergazeev has many times visualized the figure of the shaman, mostly carved in elk horn. in some works he has emphasized the hands, which appear to be transformed into branches, and the feet into roots, indicating their connection with the “world tree”,2 on which he flies in trance, in the role of the “medium” between the spheres of the cosmos, imagined as placed vertically one above the other. in some sculptures the identity of the shaman is made even

1 information about the artist and shaman minsalim timergazeev appears on several rus-sian websites. the “tobol’sk Foundation” has also dedicated to him the volume Tobol’skiy kos-torez Minsalim Timergazeev [the bone carver minsalim timergazeev], tobol’sk, the Vozrozhdeniya tobol’ska Foundation, 2004, cf. the website www.tobolsk.org/fond/prints/440html (last consul-tation July 2014).

2 the “world tree” or “cosmic tree”, at the centre of the world, whose branches touch the vault of the sky and whose roots the lowest depths, links the sky, the earth and the afterlife. the ar-chetypal tree can be symbolically replaced by a pillar (column, post) and a mountain.

http://www.tobolsk.org/fond/prints/440html

262 Carla Corradi Musi

more explicit by the drum, his means of transport, and by the bird which ap-pears on his costume, into which his “second soul” is often metamorphosed. in some representations his long hair has been highlighted. the power of survival, which dwells in the head, the earthly dwelling of the immortal soul, extends over his hair (Donner 1920: 2–3). the shaman is depicted in several ways: near his sacred tree and the typical elevated little house containing seeds or flour, or sitting on a bear, or dancing or doing other ritual tasks.3 Particularly interesting is the sculpture entitled Legendy Samotlora “legend of samotlor”, which places the shaman in the context of daily life (along with other people of the village engaged in their jobs, with animals nearby and a tent), in contrast with one of the oil wells of samotlor, the largest russian oil field in Western siberia (Fig. 1).4 in a variant of this sculpture minsalim represented maksim lapa, a shaman of tuva, and President Putin, with facial features similar to those of the nordic idols, raising three flags: one russian, one of the peninsula of Yugorskiy and one of tyumen’ (Fig. 2).

in an original composition, made of wood, elk horn and mammoth tusk, min-salim timergazeev has also carved the shaman par excellence of Vogul mythol-ogy, mir-susne-hum “World-surveyor-man”, the most honoured of the seven children of the God of heaven. According to belief, the shamans in trance re-ceived their extraordinary information directly from him. the god, who, like the shamans, became inebriated with Amanita muscaria, by order of his father had planted the “cosmic tree”, of which the personal trees of the shamans are a re-duced copy (róheim 1966: 19, 48–49). mir-susne-hum also had the shamanic function of psychopomp: on the arrival of cold weather, he guided, along the milky Way, the seasonal migration of the dead-birds towards the south and, on that occasion, was able to take on the form of a duck, a swan or a crane (róheim 1966: 18), divine initiatory “vehicles” in close connection with the forces of the sun.

minsalim timergazeev has presented the god with his extraordinary horse5 and the drum in his hand. he has included the god in a circular structure with rays (the sun), embedded between two stakes and placed on a curve-shaped plat-form like a sledge upside down, with representations of trees (the land), over-looking two mammoths (the afterlife of the ancestors), located on both sides: in this sort of sun chariot, which symbolically embodies the three levels of the

3 see the images on the website: http://www.minsalim.ru/ (a series of Legendy i Mify “legends and myths” (last consultation July 2014).

4 this and subsequent images are reproduced here by kind permission of the author.5 the Voguls used to honour the horse of mir-susne-hum with ritual offerings during the mi-

gration of the dead-birds towards the afterlife. Furthermore, they associated the northern lights with the glare of that steed (Capacchi 1968: 152).

https://mail.unibo.it/owa/redir.aspx?C=2da31ee379714de3a4d0e728282b78c0&URL=http%3a%2f%2fwww.minsalim.ru%2f

263The shamanic works of Minsalim Timergazeev and other artists...

cosmos, he has focused on the heliocentric nature of the shamanic system of siberian beliefs.6

the artist-shaman has reproduced several times the bear, semi-divine an-cestor, the son of the God of heaven, that descended onto the earth from the Great Bear and, endowed with exceptional and ambivalent energy, became the progenitor of man.7

6 see the image on the website: http://www.minsalim.ru/ (a series of Legendy i Mify “legends and myths” (last consultation July 2014).

7 As we learn especially from ob-ugric tradition, the bear, fascinated by the appearance of the earth as seen from above, begged his father to let him come down: to satisfy his wish, the God of heaven put him in a cradle and brought him down among men, with a silver or iron chain. According to a variant of the legend it was the father who drove away the bear from the sky be-cause of his exaggeratedly disobedient and proud behavior, and ordered him to defend good men and punish the wicked (Bovina lentini 1987: 8, 10, 26, 30–31).

the liminal nature of the bear, used to moving between the world of the supernatural forces of the taiga, the tundra and the forest and that of men, and to crossing the border between the

Fig. 1. Minsalim Timergazeev: the “Legend of Samotlor”

Fig. 2. Minsalim Timergazeev: variant of “Legend of Samotlor”



the bear, whose presence in siberia is inescapable, appears in minsalim’s works as an animal which frightens the hunter because the latter respects the earth, or as an animal by now a hunting prey, in front of a hunter who, with a se-rious, embarrassed expression, is about to strike him because he knows he is go-ing to kill a sacred creature. the bear is also depicted as a hunter and fisherman: he does not show any fierce characteristic, but as a man needs nourishment.

man tries to treat it as a blood relative. indicative, in this respect, is the work in which minsalim has reproduced a man and a bear sitting one opposite the other in front of a cut tree trunk on which is placed a teapot: the two are ready to have a break and drink tea.8

timergazeev has carved other animals of his country linking them with the relative symbolism and associating them, often, with a tree which is reminiscent of the archetypal tree. he has paid particular attention to the totemic deer fam-ily. For example, in depictions of the elk and the reindeer he has highlighted the long, branching antlers, a symbol of renewal after death because of the gener-ally annual shedding of the antlers in male deer and the branch-like form which links them symbolically to the “cosmic tree”.9

human and the divine, made him an animal both honoured and feared at the same time. the sha-mans made use of their extraordinary energy. the reverential fear of man in regard to the bear is obvious in the taboo of the use of his name, usually replaced by pseudonyms or periphrases. in siberian tradition the animal was named with terms which meant “grandfather”, “stepfather”, “stepmother” (Alekseenko 1968: 176), which indicate his close relationship with men, sometimes marked by a certain ambiguity.

the myth of the progenitor bear was widespread in Finno-ugric and siberian traditions. For example, according to the Vogul legends of the animal, after having fathered with a girl, a son or a daughter, he was killed by the brother of the woman or by the same son or daughter who wanted to escape together with the mother from the cave in which the bear had forced them to live for years (the animal had devoured the woman’s husband and had dragged her to his lair) (Kannisto 1958: 333–334; munkácsi 1893: 356–360). the bear himself considered men his rela-tives: for example, in a Vogul song the soul of the animal calls “aunt” the old woman who ap-proaches his skinned body to purify it in the fire (Bovina lentini 1987: 54, 56).

in the Finno-ugric field the skull of the killed animal was hanged from a tree branch so that his “second soul”, which was believed to be located in the skull (in the same way as the “second soul” of man), returned to heaven, to his origins, in order to be reincarnated later on the earth in an eternal cycle which did not involve any disruption. in the ob-ugric area the remains of the animal were taken into a wood along a path envisaged as a silver chain which led directly to the God of heaven. As we read in a Vogul poem, the bear, having reached heaven, underwent judg-ment on his behavior on earth, and was welcome only if he had not been disobedient and had not hurt anyone (Pentikäinen 2007: 259–261).

8 see the images on the website: http://www.minsalim.ru/ (a series of okhota “the hunt”); see also the images of series of Medvedi “the bears”) (last consultation July 2014).

9 see the images ibidem (a series of Zhivotnye “the animals”). the elk, like the bear, is consid-ered an ancestor. the inhabitants of the siberian forest where timergazeev lives are divided into two native phratries, the one of the bear and the other of the elk, the two main tribal ancestors.



minsalim also decorated knives, especially paper-knives, with traditional mo-tifs. the handle of one knife, for example, is the head of a horse, the legendary means of transport of peoples of the steppes. of significance also is a sheath made of beech wood engraved with hunting scenes reminiscent of prehistoric rock paintings.

the handle of one paper-knife represents in a stylized form the “world tree”;10 another depicts the head of a bear and shows the soul in the guise of a shaman who hovers in the air (Fig. 3).

timergazeev has also created many amulets and talismans, once widely used because they had an apotropaic function and brought good luck. For example, one amulet shows in a stylized form the “tree of life”, another, a shaman in trance during flight, another, the Vogul god mir-susne-hum on his horse.

of interest also are the charm necklaces with their value as amulets which highlight the main star in the sky: one, for example, represents the circle of the sun surrounded by its rays, usually the female principle and symbol par excel-lence of life and regeneration, with a central point which indicates the centre of the cosmos, with a small horn for good luck attached to it; another shows the incision of a little human being with a bird’s head inserted in the middle of the circle of the sun surrounded by rays: this is clearly the figure of a shaman whose “second soul” in trance has assumed the form of a bird.11 We recall some sibe-rian stories which consider the eagle, the bird of the sun, as a heavenly father, like the first shaman.12

With regard to the deer, we are reminded that the Voguls knew of the myth of the magic deer pursued by the celestial hunter (both totemic ancestors of one clan); it is not surprising that the Voguls named the milky Way “track of the man who chases the deer (or the elk)”. the myth was also known in the Finnish area (Corradi musi 1983: 51) and has also left traces in one of the ori-gin myths of the hungarians (handed down by simon Kézai in Gesta Hungarorum), that of the “miraculous” deer which brought the two hunters hunor and magor, the ancestors of the mag-yars, in their new homeland (Pauler – szilágyi 1900: 491; Buday 2004: 34–36). the mythology of the luminous deer of heavenly origin is reflected in the popular hungarian songs known as regösök: the symbols of the sun and the moon appear on his body and often very many candles are lit and extinguished by themselves on his horns. in many cases he is called “miraculous son-deer” (Csodafiú-szarvas), probably because he represents the figure of Jesus. on the other hand, according to legend, the magyar King st. stephen was converted to Christianity at the invita-tion of Jesus in the form of a deer, with the symbols of the sun on his forehead, the moon, the stars and a luminous cross on the sides of his body, and the holy candles on the horns (rozsnyói 2002: 49–50). the totemism of the deer is clearly reflected also in the figure of the ancestor of the lapps, who was a man-deer, cultural hero from whom men learned the ritual of deer hunt-ing, during which they must wear antlers (limerov 2007: 29).

10 see the images on the website: http://www.minsalim.ru/ (a series of Podarochnye nozhi “Gift knives” (last consultation July 2014).

11 see the images ibidem (a series of Amulety – Oberegi “Amulets – Charms”).12 there are several traditions which report the early shamans as descending from the eagle

and bring into close relationship shamans and the sun. According to beliefs of the Jenisej os-



As is well known, the sun and the shaman are traditionally closely linked. the sun, the realm of truth, constitutes the highest goal of the shaman’s ecstatic journey, the place where he can obtain the greatest insight and acquire the su-perior knowledge which allows him to penetrate the secrets of nature.

to represent the long journey necessary for man to attain knowledge, min-salim has, among other things, carved a dervish, a symbol of consciousness, on a tortoise (Fig. 4).

the ancient nomadism of the siberian peoples is expressed by timergazeev in two panels of wood and leather with incised bone. in one of these, entitled Etnoarkheologiya “ethnoarchaeology”, we see, on the one side, two warriors on horseback, who are shooting their arrows and, on the other, small antique ob-jects for personal use, including arrowheads. in the other panel, called Vsadnik “the Knight”, is delineated a hunter on horseback tackling a deer; the right side of the panel is occupied by two arrowheads which are connected with the base of the panel.13 Both panels highlight the impressive beauty of the horse, prodigious animal-guide, particularly in the origin myths of the ugrians.14

tyaks, for example, the shamans had their own home in the sun, which they could reach by means of a way unknown to others (Corradi musi 1995: 24).

13 see the images on the website: http://www.minsalim.ru/ (a series of Panno “Panels”) (last consultation July 2014).

14 in ugric tradition is the recurrent motif of the “Great stallion”, associated with the sun for its whiteness, the progenitor endowed with magic powers. traces of this animal are found in the hungarian legend of the white horse that Prince Árpád, during honfoglalás (settlement in the

Fig. 3. Minsalim Timergazeev: head of a bear (paper-knife)



the “minsalim Atelier”, directed by timergazeev, located in the or-phanage in which the artist-shaman grew up, contains numerous paint-ings on the walls and a large number of wooden sculptures: it represents a centre both of interest for art and ethnology. simple wooden objects evoke the atmosphere of tradition, such as a stylized sacred tree, called Khanty,15 with many coloured rib-bons tied to their branches as a sign of ritual offering. minsalim, to give more visibility to his Atelier, loves to be photographed next to his works, sometimes dressed in traditional clothes and with his shaman’s drum. in a significant photograph he ap-pears next to the sculpture of a sha-man, very similar to him in appear-ance, who brings his hands placed together, fingers bent, to his mouth, to imitate a cup for drinking water. As minsalim himself has communi-cated to us, the sculpture entitled

Carpathian Basin) in 896, gave to the king of the moravians in exchange for the land which he dominates. the magyars thought that the táltos, magic priest with the role of shaman, gave full consideration to the im-mortal souls of white horses and accompa-nied these in the afterlife. the horse-táltos also, linked to the ancestral myths (Dömö-tor 1984: 428), winged and fully initiated, allowed the hero of the magic hungarian fairy tales to gallop through the spheres of the cosmos crossed by the “world tree”. it is no coincidence that the “cosmic tree” and the horse in hungary were often associated in artistic representations.

15 minsalim with this name wished to re-call the tradition of the ob-ugric Khanti.

Fig. 4. Minsalim Timergazeev: dervish on a tortoise

Fig. 5. Minsalim Timergazeev: “The Cup”


Chasha “the Cup”16 emphasizes the importance of water on which life depends: all living beings drink from the same cup, that of water (Fig. 5). Particularly striking is a photograph showing him sitting on a bench with his legs crossed next to a bear sitting in the same way, much like a man (Fig. 6). he has also had photographs taken of himself near a baby bear in a cradle hanging with metal chains from a hollowed out tree trunk, which remind us immediately of the myths of the bear descended from the sky (Fig. 7). to emphasize the ties of friendship and kinship between humans and bears, the artist-shaman has been photographed in half-length profile in front of a bear’s head, it also in profile, so that the two seem to look in each other’s eyes (Fig. 8).

the “minsalim Atelier” collaborates with other artists involved in bringing back the motifs of ancestral tradition. they include the painter margarita sa-fraleeva-Botsman, of tatar origin, who in 2005 presented her works in a joint exhibition with minsalim, entitled MIF.17 in several striking creations, the im-agination of the painter has drawn inspiration from shamanic symbolism, espe-cially in relation to the themes of metamorphosis (as in the painting Zarodysh “embryo”),18 sacred flora and fauna (as in the paintings Derevo zhizni “the tree

16 this work is in the private collection of marta Cerni in Bern.17 MIF is an acronym resulting from the initial M of the names of the two artists, I from the

russian word iskusstvo “art” and F from the russian filosofiya “philosophy” (imposti 2011: 110).18 in this painting he depicted a tree with its trunk coming out of the navel of a fetus; the

image, in oils on canvas, is starred with beads which give light to the monochrome, and function

Fig. 6. Minsalim Timergazeev and the bear


of life” and Kosmicheskiy kovcheg “the heavenly Ark”),19 origins (as in the paint-ing Edemskiy Sad “Garden of eden”)20 and, more recently, pre-Christian cosmo-

almost like the third dimension (Fig. 9). this and subsequent images are reproduced here by kind permission of the author.

19 in the first image human figures appear on some branches (Fig. 10), in the second the “co-smic tree” stands out as the centerpiece of the ark (Fig. 11). trascrizione fonetica

20 in this work the figures of the first man and first woman, the first trees and animals are repeated in horizontal and consecutive rows. this painting also is illuminated by pearls (Fig. 12).

Fig. 7. Minsalim Timergazeev near a baby bear

Fig. 8. Minsalim Timergazeev and the bear, in profile


Fig. 9. Margarita Safraleeva-Botsman: “Embryo”

Fig. 10. Margarita Safraleeva-Botsman: “The Tree of Life”

Fig. 11. Margarita Safraleeva-Botsman: “The Heavenly Ark”

Fig. 12. Margarita Safraleeva-Botsman: the “Garden of Eden”


gonic myths (as in the painting Karta “map”).21 We concentrate, in particular, on her series of drawings entitled Sibirskie Amazonki “siberian Amazons”, in which is represented the energy of women through the depiction of tatar nomadic warrior-wizards of the past, not only painted on the backs of horses, but also of totemic animals like wolves and bears (Fig. 14). these designs reflect historical reality: the legendary Amazons, mentioned by ancient authors,22 actually lived on the border between russia and Kazakhstan. this is confirmed by field stud-ies of Jeannine Davis-Kimball,23 backed up by funeral trappings found in burials exclusive to women, dating back to the 2nd-6th centuries BCe, excavated between 1992 and 1995 in the area at Pokrovka.24

in illustrating the myth of the Amazons, the painter drew the motifs of scyth-ian medallions found during archaeological excavations, which have allowed her to discover the peculiarities of those adventurous warrior women in the sha-manic imagination of the ancient nomadic peoples of Asia.25 margarita’s interest

21 in this painting of the siberian land, intersected by rivers, appear animal figures reminiscent of the mythology of its indigenous peoples (Fig. 13).

22 According to Histories of herodotus, the places where the untamed Amazons lived gravitated around the swamp maeotis and the euxine (herodotus iV: 110–117).

23 For documentation reviewed by Jeannine Davis-Kimball see Eurasian Warrior Women and Priestesses, Petroglyphic, Funerary, and Textual Evidence for Women of High Status, available on the website: http://www.csen.org/aciaa_article/eurasian%20Women%20Warriors3.htm.

of the same scholar cf. also Statuses of Sauromatian and Sarmatian Women on the website: http://www.csen.org/WomenWarriors/statuses_Women_Warriors.html (last consultation July 2014).

24 the site is located on the border with Kazakhstan, about 120 km south of orenburg. 25 the arrow, emblem of magical flight among the siberian peoples, was also an important

element in scythian mythology (Corradi musi 2008: 77). on the other hand, the scythians, as

Fig. 13. Margarita Safraleeva-Botsman: “Map” Fig. 14. Margarita Safraleeva-Botsman: an Amazon on the back of a wolf

http://www.csen.org/aciaa_article/Eurasian%20Women%20Warriors3.htm

http://www.csen.org/WomenWarriors/Statuses_Women_Warriors.html


in this topic is better understood if we think that the courageous determination attributed to the Amazons is a subject frequently associated in russia with the figure of woman both in folk tradition and in reality: we need only think of the polyanica or polenica, the heroine of byliny, the epic songs of folklore, or of great women of russian history, such as the Czarinas in the eighteenth century, or of the famous nadezhda Durova, who disguised herself as a man and enlisted in the russian army to fight against napoleon or of more women-writers of the literary group known as new Amazon (founded in 1988), the most feared of anti-soviet women because they shook the foundations of patriarchal society (imposti 2009: 140–150).

the workshop of minsalim participated in arranging the First international Woodcarving Festival Legends of the Siberian Land, held in uvat (2009).26 the artists of the Festival wanted to highlight the importance of the recovery of the values handed down from the distant past and now even more relevant than ever. in particular, they drew attention to the necessary respect for the natural habitat, undermined by the processes involved in the “savage” development of industrialization of our day.

the same timergazeev, along with sergey luginin of salekhard,27 has pre-sented in the Festival his work Starik i lodka “the old man and the Boat”, which symbolizes the predestined course of life and death of man (Fig. 15).28 the old man standing with his arms raised supporting an upturned boat surmounted by two birds has a precise metaphorical meaning: he is the man who overturns above himself the heavy but protective boat, and thus feels safer, like a child in search of shelter. every day the man goes on the banks of the river and lifts his boat of destiny with its prophetic birds; if he does not raise it, but sits in it, it means that he goes to an “other”-life. every morning the man is ready to face the

narrated by herodotus in the Histories, resorted to smoking cannabis to achieve a state of in-ebriation (iV: 75), a type of ecstasy. they had shamanic cosmological beliefs: the dead directed to the hereafter had to cross a bridge understood as a mythical means of connecting the various levels of the cosmos, in the same way as the “world tree” (eliade 1985: 421–423). in addition, they considered the ritual hunting of human heads as an initiatic test. this practice was based on the shamanic concept of the head as the seat of the “second soul”, according to which pos-session of the head of an enemy meant possession of all his energies. they used to hang on the reins of horse the decapitated heads of their enemies and carried them to the king; they also had the habit of using the skull of the fiercest enemies as bowls (herodotus iV: 64–65). Finally, they believed in the totemism of reptiles and practiced corresponding taboos of shamanic matrix (Corradi musi 2008: 70).

26 During the Festival shamanic dances and rituals were performed. minsalim wore a robe on which was depicted the portrait of the bear.

27 salekhard is located in the Yamal peninsula, inhabited by the nenets and Khanty.28 the image of this work and the works of other artists of the Festival here are taken from

timergazeev – Vishnyakova, 2009, unnumbered pages.


difficulties of his daily journey of initiation, aware that, by suffering, every day he can boost his energy, until the renovatio which he will accomplish by means of the temporary stage of death. At that time his “second soul” will use the boat to cross the mythical “river of the world” and arrive in the realm of the dead, where in the form of a bird he will wait on the “world tree” for the moment of his reincarnation into a new born being. this is the destiny of man, which does not permit alternatives. in the Festival the work was nominated “For creating an original image of the uvat land”.

the works of other artists of the Festival have interpreted themes directly related to the ethnographic data of siberian communities, which, despite their regional variations, lead to a totally convergent world view. the choice of an ex-hibition of sculptures in wood only, according to the indigenous material culture based on woodwork prevalent in those lands, immediately calls to mind the sa-credness of the tree and the forest, forgotten by the industrialized world. the living forest with its “soul” was put into special prominence by Galina medve-deva of uvat and sergey Fedotov of Kazan’ (tatarstan).

Fig. 15. Minsalim Timergazeev and Sergey Luginin: “The Old Man and the Boat”

Fig. 16. Galina Medvedeva: “The Heart of the Wood”


the work of Galina medvedeva, entitled Serdtse lesa “the heart of the Wood”, consisting of a log surmounted by a set of cut branches, which seem to be ar-teries and veins, reminds us that the forest is a great living being (Fig. 16). the imaginary beat of his heart, like the rhythm of the drum of the shaman, is ca-pable of guiding thought outside the boundaries of the earth to the spheres of the invisible world. the composition was chosen to represent the category “For originality”.

sergey Fedotov’s sculpture, entitled Dukh Lesa – Lesovik “the spirit of the Wood – lesovik”, is a kind of totemic column presenting an anthropomorphic figure with a huge head, the face of an old man with a very long beard coming down over a tiny body; out of the beard emerges a hand holding a stick for sup-port (Fig. 17). lesovik, who according to legend has hands and feet covered with bark, hair and beard with ivy, and the face with moss, is clever and amusing. he lives in the woods and helps good people by pointing out the right path; how-

Fig. 17. Sergey Fedotov: “The Spirit of the Wood – Lesovik”

Fig. 18. Viktor Seliverstov: “The Wanderer”


ever, he plays tricks on bad people by making them take difficult routes to the point of tiring them. the sculpture was nominated as “the most lyrical image” of the Festival.

in connection with those who are looking for which way to go there is also Strannik “the Wanderer” by Viktor seliverstov of novyi urengoy,29 who, with skis on his feet, well interprets the magic figure of this shamanic character of the tundra (Fig. 18). According to the legends of the Yamal peninsula, the sacred and miraculous wayfarer shows, with the tracks left by the skis, the right way to people who are lost, helps the hunters find deer and keeps away the wolves from cattle. the work received the nomination in the category: “For fidelity to traditions”.

other exhibitors have also referred to the natural habitat.For example, the udmurt artist Viktor Yakovlev presented the figure of the

bear in the sculpture entitled Syn Toruma “the son of torum”, where the stand-ing animal, with a human body and a bear’s head, is leaning against a “vertical axis” which is surmounted by the head and beak of a raven, a symbol of spring and herald of renewed life. the bear, with a serene and tranquil expression, holds a stick which gives him authority and identifies him as a sort of shepherd of the people (Fig. 19). Yakovlev also humanizes the bear-ancestor and, at the same time, stresses the divine origin of this son of the God of heaven. the sculp-ture in its compact verticality, which is reminiscent of the “world tree”, empha-sizes the importance of the bear in siberian mythology and the interdependence between heaven and earth, on which the bear lives to give man a sign of that divine lost essence to which by nature man continues to aspire. the sculpture was nominated in the category: “the prize of the audience’s affection”. in real-ity, the bear is always in the hearts of the inhabitants of siberia.

Galina Polikarpova of semenov has exhibited another beautiful sculpture, en-titled Sedoy Irtysh “the Gray irtysh”: it shows the white-haired, powerful, elderly man who embodies the spirit of the river, keeper of the legends of the inhabit-ants of its shores, with the image of a fish-shaped boat. on the back of the fish-boat, fishermen are pulling up nets full of fish from the water, physically joining with them in an unbreakable bond (Fig. 20). the interpretation of the spirit of the river is related to tradition and, at the same time, to modernity: this boat-shaped fish, which recalls the idea of a spaceship, refers to a modern vision of movement in space and, at the same time, recalls the ancient cosmic symbolism of the “magical flight” along the “world tree” to the otherworldly spheres, and the “magic navigation” along the “world river”. not surprisingly, the sculpture was nominated as “uvat between the past and the future”.

29 the city is located in the Yamal peninsula.


in these artists of post-soviet russia the interest in ethnographic data, which is inherited from the early twentieth century avant-garde, is combined with the recovery of tradition as an expression of cultural identity. their works enhance the widely ignored culture of the province, distinguishing the forms of contem-porary art which express self-deconstruction of the national “myths” and post-modern irony.30 minsalim timergazeev is one of the catalysts of a genuine recov-ery, in a modern key, of tradition in the arts. his profession of shaman, who can repeat (mastromattei 2010: 23–25 ) and update the mythic images, assists him in this task. his artistic approach to the original myths betrays, in more recent works, a melancholy bitterness about the aggressive progress of civilization.

A certain nostalgia for the unattainable past strikes even those contempo-rary artists who interpret the tradition from the mythopoetic point of view, as did margarita safraleeva-Botsman in several paintings. During an international conference on the culture of siberia, held in tobol’sk in may-June 2007, the art-ist herself said in an interview that in herself and in minsalim the link with the

30 About shamanism and contemporary art see Parisi 2010: 271–290.

Fig. 19. Viktor Yakovlev: “The Son of Torum”

Fig. 20. Galina Polikarpova: “The Gray Irtysh”


original past, with “something blue and cosmic”, is equally strong. the difference is that they work with different materials, guided by their individual creativity; the artist herself has declared in this respect: “With my works i create myths, he simply creates”. (imposti 2011: 110).31

References Alekseenko, e. A. 1968. the cult of bear among the Ket (Yenisei ostyaks). in V. Diószegi

(ed.) Popular beliefs and folklore tradition in Siberia, 175–191. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó.

Bovina lentini, F. 1987. Il culto dell’orso presso gli Ugri dell’Ob. Parma: Palatina editrice.Buday, Kornélia. 2004. ‘The Earth Has Given Birth to the Sky’. Female Spirituality in the

Hungarian Folk Religion. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó – european Folklore institute.Capacchi, G. 1968. Gli Ugri dell’Ob. Parma: studium Parmense.Corradi musi, C. 1983. I Finni. Parma: Palatina editrice.Corradi musi, C. 1995. il binomio fuoco-sole nell’ideologia sciamanica eurasiatica. Il

Polo 2: 24–27.Corradi musi, C. 2008. Sciamanesimo in Eurasia. Dal mito alla tradizione. roma: Aracne. Dömötor, t. 1984. the Problem of the hungarian Female táltos. in m. hoppál (ed.) Sha-

manism in Eurasia, 423–429. Göttingen: edition herodot.Donner, Kai. 1920. ornements de la tête et de la chevelure. Quelques mots sur leur sig-

nification. Journal de la Société Finno-Ougrienne 37: 1–22.eliade, m. 1985. Lo sciamanismo e le tecniche dell’estasi. transl. J. evola, revised and up-

dated by Franco Pintore. roma: edizioni mediterranee.imposti, G. 2009. le nuove Amazzoni: l’affermarsi della letteratura al femminile nella

russia post-sovietica. in G. Golinelli (ed.) L’ambiguità dell’Amazzone in una prospettiva di genere. Decostruzione e riappropriazione di un mito, 137–154. Bologna: i libri di emil.

imposti, G. 2011. Videniya perinatal’noy zhizni i “sibirskie Amazonki” v tvorchestve margarity safraleevoy-Botsman. in n. nikolaeva (ed.) Iskusstvo Evrazii vchera, segod-niya, 110–119. izhevsk: udmurtskiy universitet.

Kannisto, A. 1958. Materialen zur Mythologie der Wogulen. ed. by matti liimola and erik Anton Virtanen. helsinki: suomalais-ugrilainen seura (suomalais-ugrilaisen seuran toimituksia 113).

limerov, P. F. 2007. la Dea-madre nella religiosità precristiana del popolo komi: per una ricostruzione dell’immagine. in C. Corradi musi (ed.) Simboli e miti della tradizione sciamanica, 29–37. Bologna: Carattere.

mastromattei, r. 2010. Arte degli artisti e arte degli sciamani. in V. Parisi (ed.) La Venere e lo sciamano. L’influsso dello sciamanesimo siberiano e la cultura russa del novecento, 23–25. napoli: università degli studi di napoli ‘l’orientale’.

31 A special thanks to Gabriella imposti for putting us in touch with minsalim timergazeev and margarita safraleeva-Botsman, and for her valuable support.


munkácsi, B. 1893. Vogul népköltési gyűjtemény. Vol. 3. Budapest: magyar tudományos Akadémia.

Parisi, V. 2010. lo sciamano e la città. note sull’arte contemporanea post-sovietica e lo sciamanesimo. in V. Parisi (ed.) La Venere e lo sciamano. L’influsso dello sciamanesimo siberiano sulle arti e la cultura russa del Novecento, 271–290. napoli: università degli studi di napoli ‘l’orientale’.

Pauler, G. and szilágyi, s. (eds) 1900. A magyar honfoglalás kútfoi. Budapest: magyar tudományos Akadémia.

Pentikäinen, J. 2007. sulle orme dell’orso. il primitivismo artico nella mentalità euro-pea. in G. Golinelli (ed.) Il primitivismo e le sue metamorfosi. Archeologia di un discorso culturale, 249–273. Bologna: ClueB.

róheim, G. 1966. Hungarian and Vogul Mythology. seattle-london: university of Wash-ington Press.

rozsnyói, Z. 2002. il ‘doppio’ nell’arcaico canto propiziatorio ungherese: il regölés. in C. Corradi musi (ed.) Lo sciamano e il suo ‘doppio’, 43–54. Bologna: Carattere.

timergazeev, m. and Vishnyakova, i. (eds) 2009. Chudo-Tvortsy. The First International Woodcarving Festival ‘Legends of Siberian Land’. transl. by natalia Yaitskaya. ekater-inburg: ‘Format’.



Jürgen Werner Kremer

Norval Morrisseau — Shaman-Artist

Introductionhe Anishnaabe painter norval morrisseau is an important example of a shaman who is an artist; he also illustrates the importance of re-traditionalization, re-newal, and the opportunities artistic expression affords for such processes. i will describe morrisseau’s life and art to discuss the significance of shamanic pro-cesses in his work. the German Joseph Beuys similarly claimed to be a shaman-artist and i will contrast the two briefly in my concluding discussions.

the focus of my discussion is on morrisseau as a shaman-artist, not his place in art history or the interest of 'the West' in 'the other'. i will consequently limit myself to the discussion of his biography and his own words; commentary from a fellow Anishinaabe visionary, the writer Gerald Vizenor, will be used to am-plify the discussion. the terms “Anishinaabe, Chippewa, and ojibwa” are used interchangeably below.

LifeJean-Baptiste norman henry morrisseau was born on march 13 or 14 in the years 1931, 1932 or 1933 (different sources provide different dates and places of birth). he was the first of five boys and, as was traditional, he was raised by his grandparents on the sand Point reserve near lake nipigon in Canada. When about 12 years old morrisseau goes on a vision quest with his grandfather mo-ses “Potan” nanakonagos. he encounters a sacred bear face to face which be-comes his spirit guide. When about 18 years old he falls very seriously ill and is unresponsive to any treatment. A medicine woman gives him the name Mis-kwaabik Animiiki or Copper thunderbird and he subsequently recovers. Despite the discouragement by relatives and elders he begins to illustrate Anishnaabek mythic stories. six years later he contracts tuberculosis; during his stay in the

280 Jürgen Werner Kremer

sanatorium two important events occur: he meets his future wife harriet and he has a vision in which the Great manitou approves of his desire to depict Anish-naabe mythic stories and offers protection; as a result he becomes more determined to illustrate these an-cient stories or legends. in 1957 he has a special vi-sion of the thunderbird during which he is told that he has been chosen for a special mission in life. Dur-ing this time period he sells baskets and paintings at a local store and begins to record the old stories. not much later he sends a first manuscript to an anthro-pologist he had met. 1962 is his breakthrough year with a sold-out first solo show in toronto. morrisseau receives wide publicity, including an article about his work in Time magazine.

morrisseau continues his cultural work by record-ing songs, lullabies, and stories which result in the 1965 publication of Legends of My People, The Great Ojibway (edited by selwyn Dewdney). in 1967 he de-signs an exterior mural for the expo 67 in montreal. his first european solo exhibition in France is viewed

by 12,000 attendees, Picasso and Chagall among them. morrisseau’s paintings are now used as illustrations in numerous books. in 1972 he suffers burns to three quarters of his body in a hotel fire in Vancouver; during this incident he has a vision of Jesus telling him to be a role model through his art. At this point he converts to the apostolic faith. in 1973 he is appointed member of the royal Canadian Academy of Arts. throughout his life morrisseau suffers from numer-ous illnesses and accidents as well as continuous problems with alcohol; during an incarceration for drunk and disorderly behavior the prison provides him with studio space. During this time period he works with religious, especially Chris-tian, themes. his exposure to eckankar in 1976 leads to a shift from a conven-tional Christianity to a concern with more universal conceptions of the soul. his work is documented in films and books. in 1986 he is appointed Grand shaman of the ojibwa, thunder Bay, ontario. not much later he lives on the streets and sustains his drinking through the sale of paintings. he suffers a minor stroke and gets diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 1996. in 2002 morrisseau is in-volved with the development of four animated movies based on his art, Stories from the Seventh Fire. At this point his paintings are in major private and public collections. in 2006 the national Gallery of Canada in ottawa opens a retrospec-tive. norval morrisseau dies on December 4, 2007 in toronto.

Fig. 1. Self Portrait Devoured by Demons (1964)

281Norval Morrisseau — Shaman-Artist

Cultural Backgroundmorriseau comes from an indigenous or shamanic culture where “the spirit teacher told the first people on the earth that they “must fast and find out things by dreams and that if they paid attention to these dreams they would learn how to heal the sick” (Vizenor 1984: 3). Creation stories establish 'original instructions', patterns of being in the world.

the woodland creation stories are told from visual memories and ecstatic strategies, not from scriptures. in the oral tradition, the mythic origins of tribal people are creative expressions, original eruptions in time. … the tell-er of stories is an artist, a person of wit and imagination, who relumes the diverse memories of the visual past into the experiences and metaphors of the present. … the variations in mythic stories are the imaginative desires of tribal artists. … the variations are the work of imagination, not disagree-ment. (Vizenor 1984: 7–8)

Vizenor notes the “imaginative desires of tribal artists” as well as “diverse memories” and connects all this into the present where morrisseau is an exem-plar of variations as a consequence of his imagination and his intense spiritual explorations grounded in his Anishinaabe culture.

Vizenor discusses the shaman and healer Ka Ka Geesick who lived most of his life as trapper until he died at the age of 124 (he was born in 1844). he was traditional through his connection with the visionary realm: “Ka Ka Geesick was a man of visions and dreams; his music and world view connected him to a tribal place on the earth. he was secure at the center of his imagination and memories; in a sense, he was in a spiritual balance, blessed to live so long” (Vizenor 1984: 143). Ka Ka Geesick’s traditionalism was alive and changing as he worked im-agination and memory. morrisseau describes the cultural world this healer had been connected to, the world before colonization, as follows:

Before the settlers and priests came from the old World in europe, the na-tive people all over America used their imaginations freely. there was a vast amount of culture. i believe the people were going to the house of invention. By being unconditioned, they were able to travel easily on the inner highways, right to the source of all knowledge and invention. (1997: 11)

morrisseau did not have the same ease of connection with his cultural im-agination and memory; despite the fact that he spent much of his early years in a remote place, colonization impacted him profoundly. he was sent to Catholic boarding school and suffered physical, sexual, and emotional abuse and was for-bidden to speak his own language. the impact of these traumatic experiences is not easy to fathom.


moses “Potan” nanakongas, his grandfather, was the initial connection to his cultural roots. moses was known as midé and visionary shaman. morris-seau would later acknowledge that all the paintings he painted were the result of dreams of his grandfather. he never lost his Anishinaabe tongue. it was his grandfather who put him out on a vision fast where, lying on a scaffold, he en-countered a bear. As the bear was sniffing him all over he opened his eyes, de-spite his grandfather’s warnings. moses told him that he would have obtained much greater powers had he not opened his eyes. the bear thus became his guiding spirit and many paintings show bears as sacred.

morrisseau was strongly rooted in his indigenous culture. he felt compelled to express his own culture visibly; his aim was to “reassemble the pieces of a once-proud culture and to show the dignity and bravery of [his] people” (ibid. 1997: 28). his grandfather had told him the legends or mythic stories of his culture. At times he felt discouraged when he wanted to give visible expres-sion to his culture and he appears to have wrestled with elders on this issue. his doubts were intermittent and he had intense periods where he felt he had violated a cultural taboo by representing ancient mythic stories. this issue was finally resolved when he had a vision while recuperating from tuberculosis in a sanatorium:

Behind me is a grizzly bear. in front of me, two water gods chewing on bones. something stronger than myself is protecting me from them. like a shadow. the shadow starts moving. the bear shows his claws. the water gods are coming towards me. i know fear. i run after the shadow. ‘Great spirit! help me! i am much afraid!’ it says, ‘i’m the Great manitou. i’m testing you. now, here’s a charm for you.’ And he throws down two pieces of silk, like flags, yes. light blue and dark blue. Day sky and night sky. ‘these will protect you. Go

Fig. 2. Sacred Bear From Visions (ca. 1959-62)


ahead and do these things. never fear. i will help you.’ i woke up. since then i am not afraid. (hill 2006: 18)

From now on he gave expression to his visions of the ancient stories and al-lowed his visual language to flourish.

Because of the destruction of his native culture morrisseau had to live in two worlds, he was a hybrid living between cultures. later in life he embarked on spiritual explorations of Christianity (which had a tortured aspect as he felt crucified for what he was and wasn’t) and eckankar. the integration of these experiences occurred visibly in his paintings which continue to be grounded in his Anishinaabe culture. morrisseau’s hybridity and paradox can be seen in the tensions between contemporary and ancient, torment and centeredness, An-ishinaabe language and english, Anishinaabe culture and Christian as well as eckankar influences. this hybridity was obviously immensely generative while it also took traumatic tolls on his well-being. Yet, morrisseau never seems to have succumbed to victimry and survivance was his trump card.

Initiatory IllnessWhen asking whether morrisseau was merely a great artist or whether he has the hallmarks of a shaman-artist, we can look for evidence of his initiatory ill-ness. he has given an account of his initiation into Copper thunderbird. it is worth quoting at length:

When i was nineteen, i became very sick. A woman that was interested in me had given me this potion to drink. i went to see the doctor, because at first it was just like an ordinary sickness. it was like a pain in the chest. the doctor couldn’t understand what was happening so he gave me some kind of pills…Finally, i was going down and down. i was getting sicker and sicker, with nosebleeds. … i certainly thought i was going to die because of that indian medicine that had been administered to me. You see, this woman that was interested in me, her mother was a medicine woman, and the mother gave her the herbs. All because i refused her advances.After about ten days of losing weight, i was like a skeleton. so my mother got a very good medicine-woman for me. she came to look at me. she had already befriended me many times before. then she performed the sucking ceremony, sucking out the objects or the medicine that was lodged somewhere in my insides. she would spit these things out and there would be a good feeling.And then she did something special. You see, this is the custom of the ojib-way indians when everything is hopeless, when even the indian medicine is hopeless.…

… this is the highest sort of power that can be given to any one that is sick: and that is to give him a new name, a powerful new name. it is just like ad-

denitabenyshek

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denitabenyshek

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ministering extreme unction, like the Jesu-its do, almost like a last rite.so at that special moment she gave me a new name, the name of Copper thunderbird. that was a very, very powerful new name; and it cured me. From then on i changed, because that was a name whose power you could actually feel… my name was changed to Copper thunder-bird. i sign my paintings Copper thunder-bird. (hill 2006: 17)

this experience is consistent with initiato-ry patterns of shamans we find in the litera-ture (see Power, 2004, or Vitebsky, 1995, for summary discussions). While we don’t have very detailed verbal descriptions of his en-counters with thunderbird, we certainly have numerous paintings that attest to his trans-formation (most importantly his 1977 paint-ings Man Changing Into Thunderbird).

Shamanmorrisseau has a number of descriptions showing how he regularly intention-ally and unintentionally went through changes in the patterns of his phenom-enal world (integrative or altered states). the Anishinaabe writer Vizenor (1984: 146) states that “the shaman is a person who dissolves time, establishes an ecstatic relationship with the spirit world, and learns to speak the languages of animals, birds, and plants. the shaman is a soul or spirit doctor who heals through ecstasies and contact with spirits and unusual forces in the world; … shamans … seek to balance the forces in the world through ecstatic experiences: music, herbs, dreams and visions, and ceremonial dances” Delete, it’s a repeat: (Vizenor 1984: 146). or, in morrisseau’s words (ibid. 1997: 102): “the spirit comes through you. it is a very creative force, you see. You could be a singer, you could be a writer, you could be a painter, you could be anything if you allow that spirit to flow.”

We know that morrisseau was not initiated into the midé medicine society and that he never was a practicing midé. however, this in no way discounts his personal experiences and revelations unique to his shamanic practice. he claimed himself to be a “shaman-artist” (ibid. 1997) and saw his images as focus-ing spiritual powers generated by traditional belief and wisdom.

Fig. 3. The Grand Shaman of the Bear Lodge, Medicine Society (1996)

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morrisseau described his shamanic practice on a number of occasions, usu-ally focusing on the capacity to travel or journey:

Being a shaman, i was taught different things. What i was taught was how to leave my body and be able to go to the other worlds, which we talk about today as eckists. to be able to go there awhile, to walk there through the tun-nels, to fly there with eagles, or to fly there yourself. During my many travels as a young person, or a middle-aged person and so on, i seemed to discover many things. … i used to ask my grandfather, “Where did the indians get these images that they put on the rock paintings?” he would say to me, “they come from the spirit world. (ibid. 1997: 14).

he emphasized that “the real work is in the astral plane…. this is where my images are coming from” (ibid. 1997). Consistent with shamanic practices in other cultures he enters the spirit world, which he refers to as Quotation marks: “house of invention”, in order not only to obtain images, but also to ef-fect healing:

We can learn how to heal people with colour. the house of invention gave me the colour. there was a big candlestick on top of the golden table. the flame was above the candle. it was not touching the candle. All the colour of the spectrum was there. so this is soul imprinted or imbued with all these colours. that’s how you come to be a master of colour. my art reminds a lot of people of what they are. they heal themselves…. many times people tell me that i’ve cured them of something, whatever’s ailing them. But i didn’t do anything. it was the colour of the painting that did it. But now it’s even much stronger. the healing is more colourful than ever. (ibid. 1997: 14–15)

morrisseau goes on to detail how healing through color works in his under-standing:

each colour represents a different kind of sickness, i suppose. so now how does it work? i believe that everyone has a colour space. When one looks at

Fig. 4. Shaman Rider (1972)

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a picture, the picture and the colours reflect in the mind or in soul or in what-ever part of the body has the colour space inside of you. so now for a brief moment you are more or less in tune with it. When you do that you heal yourself. the colour heals you. i don’t heal you. the colour heals you. the spirit doesn’t heal you. it’s the colour that does something. (ibid. 1997: 17)

All these descriptions clearly suggest that morrisseau was engaged in pro-found shamanic processes most of his life. From the foundation of his cultural background he explored the depths of visionary worlds in his travels which are then depicted in his paintings. As his comments show, he saw them as much more than visual entertainment. his self-understanding of how he healed came from the depth of his shamanic work. As he grew older he acknowledged that all humans have shamanic gifts:

i say everybody is born to be a shaman, but not everybody is a Grand shaman, meaning that the Grand shaman is able to go in and out of these places, in a dream state. so before the other shamans, the apprentices are able to reach that stage where they could voluntarily go by their own free will, whether it’s tomorrow or when they’re fifty years old, it takes time. i guess it’s not the idea of trying to be an artist — just be one. (ibid. 1997: 17)

We also have a video (entitled After the Bear Dance Ceremony) that shows morrisseau, at this point visibly suffering from Parkinson’s disease, drumming in full regalia and bestowing a gift on one of the people present.

Imagerymorrisseau drew on birch bark and other found materials before working with acrylics on canvas. While his style can be classified as x-ray (comparing his moose images to moose rock carving images is telling), this seems a rather inadequate

Fig. 5. Untitled (Thunderbird and Canoe in Flight, Norval on Scooter; ca. 1990)

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Figs. 6–9. Man Changing Into Thunderbird, panels 1, 3, 5 & 6 (1977)


description given his unique use of color and imagery. traditional Anishinaabe spirits and beings are present throughout his lifework. numerous images of his work can easily be found on the worldwide web. We see spirit canoes (Thunder-bird and Canoe in Flight, 1990s), humans turning into thunderbirds, shamans, travelers, Artist and Shaman Between Two Worlds (1980), the astral world, halos showing the blessings of the earth, bears, shamanic transformations of differ-ent kinds, horned snakes, Ancestors Performing the Ritual of the Shaking Tent (c. 1958–61), horned snakes, turtles, Power Emanating from Ancient Spirit Vision (1972), and much more. some of the images are drawn on a drum. late in life he endorsed the use of his style and imagery to create four animated movies (The Four Seasons) to teach younger generations traditional legends in english and Cree (available from Film West Associates). morrisseau’s imagery is stunning in its power and for many people, including myself, seeing his art in a show for the first time is an overwhelming experience. he states: “my paintings depict my own uncorrupted impressions of ojibwa beliefs and legends, gods and crea-tures” (delete: ibid. 1997: 40); this and the healing power he attributes to them may be the central reason for the power of the experience.

Morrisseau and Beuysmorrisseau is not the only artist who claimed to be a shaman-artist. the Ger-man artist Joseph Beuys made similar assertions. While this is not the place for a detailed comparison of their stance, a few comments are in order to point to similarities and differences.

Joseph Beuys (1921–1986) was a performance artist, sculptor, painter, in-stallation artist, and graphic artist. Central to his work was an “extended defi-nition of art” and the idea of social sculpture. he saw sculpture as the result of consciousness development resulting from free imagination and thus facilitat-ing a model for the future which furthers individual creativity and new political possibilities. much of his work was based in rudolph steiner’s anthroposophical ideas, but he also took inspiration from German mythic images and shamanic cultures. there are numerous performances, statements, and images that could be used to make the case that Beuys is a shaman-artist like morrisseau (Kremer 2013). While Beuys manages to connect to older and ancient cultural materials in his works, he provided this cautionary note:

i don’t want to create ur-ur-myths and exhibit here an image of the past. We are in a different place of our development. this place, this spot requires us … to discover how we are intertwined with the past. (Beuys 1969, harlan, rappmann & schata 1980: 87, translation J.W.K.)

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his 1974 performance piece Coyote, I Like America and America Likes Me is ex-emplary of his understanding of himself as shaman-artist. Beuys lived for three days with a coyote in the same room in a new York gallery. he was concerned with healing the trauma of the native American genocide:

i believe i made contact with the psychological trauma point of the united states’ energy constellation: the whole American trauma with the indian, the red man. You could say that a reckoning has to be made with the coyote, and only then can this trauma be lifted. (Beuys 1990: 141)

similarly, morrisseau speaks of an intent of cultural healing:

it was a time when i realized the part the artist can play in indicating the traumas of time and initiating a healing process. that relates to medicine, or what people call alchemy or shamanism … i take this form of ancient behav-ior as the idea of transformation. (hill 2006: 34)

indeed, he hopes to heal racism through his art: “the time has come for us all to write and to record the story of our people, not only for ourselves but also for our white brothers so that they will be able to understand and respect us” (ibid. 1997: 36).

Joseph Beuys grew up far removed from any indigenous roots, yet his life experiences (fictive and not) and his art led him to become a shaman-artist who frequently used modern materials to evoke possibilities of different ways of being in the world and to start a “Fifth international” to overcome ecological problems and social inequalities. morrisseau, by contrast, became a shaman-artist through a shamanic exploration of his cultural roots which led him to create healing imagery.

Shamanic Survivancemaybe the most important aspect of morrisseau’s œuvre is the survivance it exemplifies. Clearly morrisseau suffered throughout his life as a consequence of the native American genocide and the destructive impact it had on his An-ishinaabe culture. Yet, he never seems to have given in to victimry and a pas-sive stance of mere survival. he exemplifies a renewal of tradition in which his ancient Anishinaabe roots become present in renewing and healing expressions. it is an intentional going back in order to move forward into the future and to make tradition present today in a profound and ancient sense.

the nature of survivance is unmistakable in native stories, natural reason, remembrance, traditions, and customs and is clearly observable in narrative resistance and personal attributes, such as the native humanistic tease, vital irony, spirit, cast of mind, and moral courage. the character of survivance

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creates a sense of native presence over absence, nihility, and victimry. (Vi-zenor 2008: 1)

morrisseau has created native presences that disallow nostalgia or romanti-cism or the moan for vanishing natives, rather, he challenges natives and non-natives alike to look at their cultural roots to create a healing sense of surviv-ance.

ReferencesBeuys, J. 1990. Joseph Beuys in America. nY: Four Walls eight Windows.harlan, V., rappman, r., and schata, P. 1980. Soziale Plastik. Achberg: Achberger Ver-

lagsanstalt.hill, G. A. (ed.) 2006. Norval Morrisseau. ottawa, on: national Gallery of Canada.Kremer, J. W. 2013. Joseph Beuys – shaman-Artist. in preparation for a volume on sha-

manism and art edited by Qu Feng.morrisseau, n. 1997. Return to the house of invention. toronto, on: Key Porter Books.Power, C. 2004. initiation. in m. namba Walter and e. J. neumann Fridman (eds) Sha-

manism: An encyclopedia of world beliefs, practices, and culture, 153–159. santa Bar-bara, CA: ABC-Clio.

Vitebsky, P. 1995. The shaman. Boston: little, Brown and Company.Vizenor, G. 1984. The people named the Chippewa. minneapolis, mn: university of min-

nesota Press.Vizenor, G. (ed.) 2008. Survivance: Narratives of native presence. lincoln, nB: university

of nebraska Press.

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Susan Michaelson

The hand on the wall of the cave. Exploring connections between shamanism and the visual arts

Introductionthis research is based on ideas and artwork that developed out of a PhD. i com-pleted in 2007. originally focused on making bridges between transpersonal psychology and image-making it took me on an extraordinary journey in which i made profound connections between shamanism, the visual arts and the heal-ing process. the research was by project, which meant that it included both a written thesis and a considerable body of artwork. i looked at art history, ex-perienced shamanic rituals in russia and siberia, made artwork on location in the landscape in morocco and in France. A substantial background in transper-sonal psychology had already given me the opportunity to use techniques like visualisation, guided imagery, active imagination and dreamwork to explore in-ner worlds, inner landscapes and to recognise the healing nature of creativity. it had also given me a good introduction to the concept of the masculine and feminine principles as qualities or energies that we all possess, whether we are male or female.

i came to realise that shamanic journeying, the inner journeys of transper-sonal psychology and the creative journeys of visual artists are all different, but equally important techniques for accessing an imaginal realm beyond everyday imagination, through which the world of spirit – or whatever is 'out there' – makes itself known to us and through us. the visual arts give us a language to communicate what we find. eventually my work became focussed on the quali-ties of the feminine principle in two-dimensional image-making. i discovered that in its origins, the feminine principle was closely connected with shaman-

292 Susan Michaelson

ism, that it is very likely that in its origins making artwork was also closely connected with shamanism – that a connection between shamanism, the visual arts and the healing process goes back to our roots and origins as human be-ings. i became aware of the power, potency and magical nature of working with images. images say what cannot be said any other way; they can take you on a journey that is both creative and healing if you follow them and let them lead the way. the combination of research plus my own inner image-maker gave me confidence in ways of working as an artist that feel very close to the artist/sha-mans of pre-history – perhaps to bring meaning and healing into life in a con-temporary Western context. Workshop work and teaching enabled me to share ideas and experiences with other people.

My own backgroundFor more than thirty years, two major parallel themes have been central to my life. the first of these has been a lifelong involvement with the visual arts both as a practitioner and subsequently as a lecturer in colleges of art and design in london. i had wanted to be an artist ever since i was a very little girl and have always produced creative work which has taken a variety of different forms. in recent years, this has manifested as drawing, painting, printmaking and photog-raphy. my work has always been characterised by a search for deeper meanings; the need to find both ways of working and a context to work within that felt real and right and true. i love drawing and painting on location in the landscape and also creating work in big sketchbooks, that enables me to follow visual and psychological themes as they come to the surface and reveal themselves to me and through me. the second theme central to my life has been my long involve-ment with transpersonal psychology as client, counsellor/therapist and even-tually workshop leader, so that i have been closely connected with the healing process and the use of techniques for going on inner journeys and exploring in-ner landscapes in a therapeutic context.

eventually my two worlds became closely interwoven and interconnected and grew themselves into a project that i simply had to do – i didn’t feel that i had any choice about it – and i embarked on a long period of searching and researching that made bridges between transpersonal psychology and image-making that was essentially about art and healing. As my project evolved it be-came focused on the qualities of the feminine principle in the visual arts and in 2007, i completed a PhD. i learnt to respect what Gloria orenstein has called “the methodology of the marvellous”; a magical and synchronistic process that reveals itself through the world of images and image-making that seemed to be going on alongside a more conventional linear approach to research. the whole

293The hand on the wall of the cave. Exploring connections between shamanism...

body of work took me on a miraculous journey on every level – literal, per-sonal/emotional, creative, intellectual, metaphorical, metaphysical – a journey that linked psychology, spirituality and the visual arts. i made profound con-nections between the feminine principle, shamanism, the visual arts and the healing process.

A shamanic world view is built on the belief that everything is alive, intercon-nected and animated by spirit. shamanism uses rituals for making a connection with other worlds, other dimensions for the purpose of healing both individuals and communities, and restoring the balance with the world of nature.

Roots and Originsit is very likely that in its origins, making artwork was closely connected with shamanism. While i was doing my research, i had the opportunity to visit the pre-historic caves at Pech merle in Cabrerets in France. French pre-historian, Jean Clottes, in his book Les Chamanes de la Préhistoire, co-written with David lewis-Williams, has drawn on both anthropology and neuroscience to suggest that the images on the walls of the caves at Pech merle and also at lascaux, were created by artists who were also shamans and that they may have been created as part of some sort of ritual involving trance or altered states of consciousness. he goes on to describe some of the processes involved in making the artwork.

on the walls of a cave at Pech merle there are images of hands and wonder-ful spotted horses that seem to be flying round the space, deep inside the earth. According to Jean Clottes, the artist placed his/her hand on the wall of the cave, a wall that was like a screen or membrane between this world and the other. he/she then blew pigment onto his/her hand so that it merged with the wall of the cave. the artist made the drawings with the hand ritualistically empowered both by the breath of life and the world of spirit. the hand was the interface be-tween the visible and invisible worlds, and the drawings created made the cave a sacred space that people could return to when they wanted to make a connec-tion, once again, with the world of spirit deep inside the earth. the shaman/artists may well have been extraordinary people, who either symbolically or in reality, had the capacity to travel between this world and the other and anchor their experiences in very powerful imagery. Paint, the paintings and the view-ers of the paintings were all ritually connected. light and dark were important. the caves were lit by oil lamps; cracks and indentations in the walls sometimes suggested animal forms in the flickering light. these forms were brought to life by the shaman/artists who helped them to emerge from the walls of the cave. in some of the caves there are red spots which could be part of some ritual in-volving pigment.


Fig. 1. A hand on the wall of a cave at Pech Merle

Fig. 3. Tafraoute Morocco (detail), 1994. Watercolour and coloured ink

Fig. 2. Aphrodite surveying her Domaine (detail). Serre de la Madone Garden, France, 1995. Watercolour and coloured ink


obviously any attempt to explain the wondrous images on the walls at Pech merle (and also lascaux) is speculative, but Jean Clottes draws on contemporary neuroscience to suggest that the Pech merle images may well be connected to rituals involving trance. he says that in the initial stages of trance one can en-counter abstract signs: dots, zigzags, grids. At a deeper level one can encounter animals or even become one. Dots, zigzags and abstract marks occur in many caves and these, plus the horses, suggest several stages in the trance experi-ence. the horse frequently appears in Palaeolithic caves along with bison and other large herbivores. Was the horse a powerful spirit, a metaphor for shamanic journeying, or was it simply a source of food? if this was the case perhaps the shaman needed to pacify the spirit world on behalf of his tribe which killed ani-mals for food.

it is possible that early shaman/artists were women. measurements taken of the hand prints on the cave walls at Pech merle show that they could be fe-male hands, suggesting that the paintings could have been made by women. it feels quite extraordinary to speculate on the possibility of female pre-historic shaman/artists ritualistically placing their hands on the walls of a subterranean womb-like cave, making connections with the world of spirits through creativ-ity in order to ensure the continuity of life in some way. in other parts of the world, shaman/artists painted their visions on rocks and in sacred spaces in the open air. Anthropologists have suggested that this may have taken place the day after their rituals and that the shamans probably believed that if they didn’t an-chor their visions in this way, they probably believed that they would fall ill and die. the places they painted became charged with power and facilitated further shamanic journeys. it’s clear that for the artists who made the images, it wasn’t the end product in our sense of the word that was important, but the process of making the images.

historically, in Western culture making artwork became separated from its roots and origins. As part of the evolution of consciousness, human beings de-veloped the capacity to separate out from their surroundings and use mind as a beam of light to shine on things, to see from a distance, alongside their abil-ity to feel connectedness and the interconnectedness of everything. As our ca-pacity to see from a distance evolved, we lost touch with our rhythms and our roots and, along with the feminine principle, images and image-making became undervalued compared with the rational mind. that way of connecting with the sacred dimension was lost or hidden. one of the major tasks we have today is to heal the spirits that have resulted from this separation – splits between head/heart, mind/soul, masculine and feminine principles. re-learning to value the imaginal realm both personally and culturally has a very important role to play in this process.


Jung has said that we all carry within ourselves at some deep level, memo-ries of our origins as human beings that are still accessible today. he wrote that “nothing to which the psyche belongs or which is part of the psyche is ever lost. to live fully, we have to reach down and bring back to life, the deepest levels of the psyche from which our present consciousness has evolved” (Jung 1961). now, as the feminine principle comes to the surface again, in order that she can walk hand in hand with the masculine, we need to create a new myth and images that are an expression of that myth. Part of that process involves feeling our way back to that ancient relationship between the feminine principle, shamanism, the visual arts and the healing process, not just in order to retrieve and revive the past, but as part of a natural process of cultural renewal that enables us to move forward in a new way.

The Imaginal Realmin an article entitled The Presence of Other Worlds In Psychotherapy And Heal-ing, roger Woolger (2001) describes how Jung developed the technique of ac-tive imagination as a way of connecting with the image or spirit forms that he called archetypes that reside in the collective unconscious. in the same article, he goes on to look at the work of henry Corbin, a great scholar of sufism, who makes a distinction between imaginary and imaginal. Woolger says that Corbin described the former as fantasies we create with our rational, working mind, whereas the imaginal derives from the higher reality of spiritual imagination. once we have learned to connect with this very powerful form of awareness, we can journey between realities and encounter worlds beyond the physical where we have access to the universal source of healing. this imaginal world is known by different names in different spiritual traditions. the creative imagination is the imaginal power by which spirit acts through us. Corbin says that the world these forms inhabit is “a perfectly real world preserving all the richness of the sensible world but in a spiritual state”. he also looks at the nature of visionary journeys and suggests that these are the same as shamanic journeys to upper or lower worlds.

the shamanic journey appears to be a visual journey. Certainly, when i heard a shaman in moscow describe his experiences, his journey sounded very simi-lar to the way people describe their experiences in the context of transpersonal psychology. in 2004, i had the opportunity to attend two workshops given by shamans in moscow. Both of these included imaging exercises that were also very similar to inner explorations i experienced in transpersonal psychology workshops. there seems to be an important difference between being a shaman and possessing a shamanistic sensibility, centred on the shaman’s ability to go


Fig. 4. Everything is shimmering 2012. Two images from a sketchbook made in the Gorges de Thodra, Morocco

Fig. 5. Hands. Pages from a sketchbook


into a trance in the course of a ritual. Valery topoev (Topoev 2010) has suggested that the true shamanic journey involves full or partial loss of self-control in the process of ritual, and that in the case of full loss of self-control, shamans often do not remember what happened in the course of a ritual. not everyone can be a shaman. A shamanistic sensibility is something we all have the capacity to de-velop, however, and seems much closer to the role of a traditional storyteller in which a door opens and the voice of the universe comes through, maybe – the song sings itself, the story tells itself, the painting paints itself.

Creating ‘a new shamanology’At the end of her book, Shamanism and the Eighteenth Century, Gloria Flaherty suggests that it might now be time for “a new shamanology”. in her book, she suggests that what could be called a shamanistic sensibility has been surfacing in Western europe since the eighteenth century and manifesting itself in the world of the arts. At the beginning of his book Dreaming With Open Eyes: The Shamanic Spirit In Twentieth Century Art And Culture, (tucker 1992) michael tucker takes this theme forward. he describes a little shaman-like figure on the wall of one of the pre-historic caves at lascaux in France, and says that a figure of the sha-man is the archetype of all artists – actors, musicians, dancers, singers, poets, painters. he goes on to describe in depth how artists in the twentieth century, took on the role of the shamans of pre-history and have contributed to the much needed shift in consciousness that is still taking place today. Peg Weiss has writ-ten in depth about how Kandinsky, one of the great pioneers of modern art, was deeply influenced by shamanism. he was an anthropologist before he became an artist and had experienced shamanic rituals first hand as a young man. other writers have expressed similar ideas. steven larsen in The Shaman’s Doorway (larsen 1976), talks about creativity as a door to the sacred that is shamanistic. Brian Bates in The Wisdom Of The Wyrd (Bates 1996) expresses the need to give cultural value to people who have the capacity to journey in and articulate the language of the imaginal – actors, writers, dancers, painters, poets – and sug-gests that they fulfil the role of the shaman in contemporary Western culture.

in 1956, henri Georges Clouzot made a beautiful film about Picasso called The Picasso Mystery. in the film, Picasso draws directly onto a large glass screen in a darkened room and is filmed from the other side of the screen. he appears to be in a trance-like state and magic seems to be flowing out of his hand directly onto the screen, so that the drawings appear spontaneously before the viewers’ eyes. it’s a most wonderful example of the magical nature of the creative process at work. Films of Jackson Pollock also reveal a ritualistic shaman-like approach to working. he stands for a while, contemplating a long blank canvas on the


floor, wearing a hat. slowly, he lights a cigarette, then eventually picks up a big brush, dips it into a large tin of paint and starts to dance his paintings to life as he moves up and down the canvas. his paintings appear to be very physical and, like Picasso, emerge on the floor directly out of his hand.

niki de st. Phalle is another artist whose work feels closely related to sha-manism. the tarot Garden she created at Grosseto, sixty miles north of rome, is full of shards of mirror glass and fragmented images, reminiscent of the magic crystals and mirrors that are often part of shamanic customs and rituals. she describes the garden as being “for all the women who over so many centuries were not allowed to create and if they dared they were burned as witches or

Fig. 7. Images from a cave at Pech MerleFig. 6. The Silver Road. In 1997, an image of a silver road appeared in an imaging exercise during a workshop on the heart I attended at a Transpersonal Psychology conference in Poland. A year later, I found myself driving along that same silver road in the south of Morocco. It took me to a place of origins, the Magic Garden of the imaginal realm and a the Magic garden in the landscape in the world 'out there'


Fig. 8. Niki de St. Phalle's Tarot Garden

Fig. 9. A selection of carpets made by Berber women from the High Atlas mountain of Morocco


locked up in a madhouse. the garden is homage to them and also to an ancient lost wisdom”. this “ancient lost wisdom” is also very clearly embedded in the Berber tribal rugs made by women in the high Atlas mountain of morocco. the carpets, made of hand-spun wool and natural dyes, are deeply connected with the earth. the process of making the carpets is very ritualistic and full of im-ages of healing and childbirth as well as the tattoo and henna patterns found on women’s hands and faces. this tradition is said to go back to the stone Age and, certainly, some of the images are very similar to images and symbols found on pre-historic cave walls and in other sacred sites. Vibrant colours and abstract imagery make some of the carpets almost barbaric. Perhaps they are the true source of modern art – they carry tremendous power and were much admired by Gaugin, Paul Klee and matisse. they could even be a living tradition that connects directly back to the shaman/artists of pre-history, although this too is obviously speculative.

Finally, i would like to say something about my own research and my ex-periences of working as a practicing visual artist. When i started my research i couldn’t make any headway at all with the project. eventually, i began working visually on a theme i called “my india”. i worked in a big sketch book and as soon as i started working with images, the research lifted off and took me on what became a most extraordinary multi-dimensional journey that was like flying on a magic carpet. i found, retrospectively, that for many years images had been tell-ing me everything i needed to know, long before ideas crystallised in the form of words. Places and situations i responded to strongly in the world “out there” of-ten mirrored inner landscapes. Perhaps they were one and the same thing. images have the capacity to flow, transform and change. Journeying in inner realms can lead us from our inner worlds into the world 'out there' and that in turn leads us into inner worlds once more. through my artwork, i became aware of a process at work within me that is absolutely awesome, that was revealing itself to me and through me in the form of images. often the images carried secret meanings that i only became aware of, retrospectively, sometimes years later.

i have two very different ways of working, both of which are equally impor-tant. i work in big sketchbooks and put everything into them – thoughts, feel-ings, dreams as well as drawings and paintings. Working in these books ena-bles me to identify important visual themes as they emerge and find threads of meaning as they reveal themselves – to get a sense of my own journey through life. that feeling of a process of work in me is in every way as important as any end product.

i also love working on location in the landscape. i spend a long time finding a magic place to work that feels energetically right – a place of power maybe. i feel a connection between me, the place and something beyond myself. the


work seems to take over and draw or paint itself. i feel vibrantly alive. i never know if i will ever be able to do it again. i do know that 'healing' in the sense of 'making whole' happens through my creative work, certainly for me, maybe for others. rituals are an important part of my working process. i honour the place and the materials before i start to work and i ask the spirits of the place to help. often my husband, Ali, makes a bunch of flowers and we leave them as an offering to the spirits of the place when we leave.

i feel very strongly that when i am immersed in creative work, i am in some sort of heightened or altered state of consciousness that is very close to shaman-ism. it’s not the same because shamans go into a trance, but it is a state which is very focussed, intuitive and meditative. i feel in touch with some sort of sa-cred space within myself that i am not normally aware of, that gets blocked by day-to-day reality and the demands of necessity. it has been suggested that my experiences are closer to those of a traditional storyteller, in which a door opens and things come through – the voice of the universe maybe. the story tells it-self, the song sings itself, the images seem to come out of my hand in a way that completely bypasses the mind. Perhaps what happens could be described as “a shamanistic sensibility” at work within me.

through my creative work, i feel very close to the shaman/artists of pre-his-tory. A shamanic worldview is one in which everything is felt to be alive, inter-connected and interrelated. We now know that we are made of the same stuff as meteors and that blood is similar to sea water. modern science has taught us that we are the same as everything around us, which is what the shamans and god-dess cultures of pre-history have always known. transpersonal psychology has been described as shamanism in modern dress. it is built around the idea that we all have a soul or Centre that is the central motivating and guiding force within the individual. it uses techniques like guided imagery and active imagina-tion to journey in the imaginal realm for the purposes of healing our relation-ships with ourselves and each other. shamans use rituals to make connections with the imaginal realm for the purposes of healing individuals, the community and our relationship with the world of nature. As artists we have the opportuni-ty to access and explore the imaginal world, to work creatively with what we find there and to produce artwork that is healing for both the artist and the viewer of the work. Although there are still areas where shamans are working, creating healing rituals according to traditional forms and beliefs, in many places tradi-tional shamanism no longer exists. in its place a shamanic spirit or shamanistic sensibility is surfacing spontaneously, through the arts, through transpersonal psychology, through our new sense of connectedness with the world around us and beyond us. We can make a healing connection with the universal source. We can experience the aliveness of everything and an ecstatic response to nature.


the combination of my own work as a practicing visual artist plus my re-search, have given me the opportu-nity to explore and elaborate on the idea expressed by Gloria Flaherty at the end of her book, that it is now time for “a new shamanology” and to suggest that the “new shamanolo-gy” she proposes, might include psy-chology, the visual arts, ecology and the environment.

A new shamanology that includes all of these areas can give a focus to ways in which a shamanic spir-it and a shamanistic sensibility are emerging, that can bring meaning and healing to life in contemporary Western culture. this is also one very important way in which the feminine principle can find a voice.

the French composer Dutilleux described composing as a celebra-tion, full of magic and mystery. the same could be said about work-ing creatively with images. one of the best ways to explore, express and celebrate our connectedness with each other and the world around us and beyond us is through metaphor; through the language of the arts. the images that come through us can be heal-ing and transformative for the person who creates them and they can also have the power to work as healing images for the people who contemplate them and allow their magic to work. through making artwork, it is possible to connect with the sacred in an authentic and contemporary way, and at the same time to heal some of the splits and imbalances that are the source of many psycho-emotional problems in the contemporary world. A new shamanology can give us the opportunity to study ways in which a shamanic spirit has been manifesting in Western culture for 200 years so that we can focus on creating new rituals and devising practical ways of carrying that work forward, in order to help the much needed new myth to find a form and a voice and new images to emerge that are essential to the evolution of human consciousness.

Fig. 10. Mandala. In 1980, a Mandala appeared, before I knew anything about Jung or transpersonal psychology. The following year, someone else signed me into a transpersonal psychology workshop and it completely changed my life


Fig. 11. a) Images of a Celebration Dress and a Meditation Dress. In 1980, I wanted to make costumes that had meanings. A Celebration Dress and a Meditation Dress emerged. Nearly 20 years later, I realised that these costumes were metaphors for intuition and meditation, two of the major themes of my research, and were costumes I literally needed to wear in life. b) Close up of Meditation Dress. c) d) e) Details from Meditation Dress


Fig. 13. a) Once when I was working in the landscape in Tafraoute in Morocco, a woman's body appeared and took me completely by surprise. Watercolour and coloured ink, 2004. b) Some years earlier in the Jardin Majorelle in Marrakech, an image appeared that was so sexual that I was embarrassed by its presence.

Fig. 12. Pages from one of

my big sketchbooks

Fig. 14. a) b) Two etchings from a series called Magic Garden, 1996


As an artist, i feel a very strong connection with the shaman/artists of pre-history. When i work my hand is directly in contact with the screen in the inner world of the imaginal realm. magic comes out of my hand. For the shaman/art-ists of pre-history, the caves were a sacred space and the drawings on the cave wall were brought to life through ritual, contact with the earth, the belief that everything was alive and interconnected and above all through the hand that made the connection between the screen or membrane that was the cave wall and what lay beyond it. As artists today, we have the opportunity to do that same thing; to bring healing and meaning into life in a contemporary context through ritual, a new sense of everything being alive interrelated and intercon-nected, our capacity to journey in and articulate the world of the imaginal and to anchor what we find through the hand that is the interface between the vis-ible and invisible realms. in Dreaming with Open Eyes, michael tucker quotes the scottish artist, Alan Davie, “who has always had a “shamanic” attitude to creativity. in a lecture he gave at Brighton Polytechnic in 1989, he summarised a lifetime’s quest for a language that might realise the romantics’ desire to dwell ‘poetically on earth’. it’s his suggestion that “basically the creative state would appear to amount to a kind of religious communion with the great external. here it’s apparent to me that what i am doing is fundamentally the same as the artists of remote times – the same as artists in tribal society – engaged in a sha-manic conjuring up of visions which will link us metaphorically with mysterious and spiritual forces normally beyond our apprehension” (tucker 1992).

ReferencesBaring, A. and Cashford, J. 1993 The myth of the Goddess. Evolution of an image. Viking. Barbatti, B. 2006. Tapis Berberes du Maroc. La Symbolique. Origines et Signification. Par-

is: Art Creation realisation edition internationale.Bates, B. 1996. The wisdom of the Wyrd. Teachings for today from our ancient past. lon-

don: rider & Co.Clottes, J. and lewis-Williams, J. D. 2001. Les chamanes de la préhistoire. Transe et magie

dans les grottes ornées. Paris: le seuil.eliade, m. 1991. Images and symbols. Studies in religious symbolism. Princeton: Princeton

university Press.Flaherty, G. 1992. Shamanism and the Eighteenth Century. Princeton: Princeton univer-

sity Press. Gordon-Brown, i. with somers, B. and marshall, h. 2008. The raincloud of knowable

things. A practical guide to transpersonal psychology. Wimborne: Archive Publishing.hillman, J. 1987. The thought of the heart (eranos lectures 2). Dallas, texas: spring

Publications inc. hillman, J. 1983. Healing fiction. Putnam Connecticut: spring Publications inc. Jung, J. C. 1961. Modern man in search of a soul. london: routledge, Kegan and Paul ltd.


Jung, J. C. 1990 [1964]. Man and his symbols. london: Arkana.Kingsley, P. 1999. In the dark places of wisdom. shaftesbury:element Books.larson, s. 1976. The shaman’s doorway. Opening imagination to power and myth. new

York: harper & rowe. slain, l. 1998. The Alphabet versus the Goddess. The conflict between word and image. new

York: Penguin Arkana.tarnas, r. 1996. The passion of the western mind: Understanding the ideas that have shaped

our world view. london: Pimlico.tucker, m. 1992. Dreaming with open eyes. The shamanic spirit in twentieth century art and

culture. san Francisco: Aquarian/harper.Villaldo, D. and Krippner, s. 1986. Healing states. A journey into the world of spiritual heal-

ing and shamanism. new York: A Fireside Book/simon and schuster inc. Woolger, r. 2001. the presence of other worlds in psychotherapy and healing. in D.

lorimer (ed.) Thinking beyond the brain. A wider science of consciousness. edinburgh: Floris Books.

Weiss, P. 1995. Kandinsky and Old Russia. The artist as ethnographer and shaman. new haven and london: Yale university Press.



Gilah Yelin Hirsch

Artist as Shaman

Introductionover a period of forty years, i have come to understand that my life as an art-ist parallels the life of a shaman in many ways. this idea has been corroborated by witnessing ritual and practice in the many cultures i have both lived in and visited. this essay, based on personal experience, focuses on imagery as a pow-erful vehicle for physical/emotional healing, and recognizes the body as the re-pository of intuition, creativity and intrinsic knowledge leading toward behavior benefitting the greater good.

Artists collaborate with their medium (paint, etc.) to layer veils of light and shadow to produce illusions of form that have dimension, reflection, refraction and the presence of substance. shamans (and priests) are the mediums who in-voke illusions of form that have dimension, reflection, refraction and the pres-ence of substance. the Cabala (ancient hebrew mystical text) states that “Adam was created as the shadow of the reflection of the substance”. Both artist and shaman bear responsibility for the affect of their conjuring and are generally lauded as visionaries and respected for upholding and expanding the positive values of their culture.

Following the characteristics delineated by mircea eliade (1964: 3–7), i can align much of my experience as an artist to that of a shaman in the following ways:

– straddle and intermediate between the spiritual and material/human worlds

– evoke imagery to change the consciousness of self and others – heal trauma and restore balance to both the physical and spiritual aspects

of the individual, resulting in positive change in the community at large 'called' to this vocation

– spend long solitary periods in wilderness

310 Gilah Yelin Hirsch

– experience serious illness that is not curable by western medicine (turner 1996)

– self-heal through spiritual means – help heal others of both emotional and physical illnesses for the greater

good– use symbols of respective cultures– identify with certain animals– require paraphernalia and ritual, (sacred space) – enter into auto hypnotic trance

Intuitive imagery in my life and workin the 1970’s, my paintings yielded the idea that floral organic forms may be re-lated to letters – particularly to hebrew letters. While immersed in explorations of letters within my art work, white spheres appeared in “reconciliation.” i had no interpretation for them (Fig. 1).

in 1980 i developed a paralysis on the left side of my body. i received noth-ing but diagnoses carrying dire prognosis from doctors at the time, including multiple sclerosis.

i decided to explore my illness intuitively. i had two canvases built to my height – five and half feet tall – and, standing in front of the canvas, had myself outlined on to the canvas so that i could work visually within my body.

in “through Generation” i worked into the physical aspects of my body, try-ing to locate and separate areas that were distressed. (Figs. 2, 3)

Whether or not the deep work i did within my own image over a period of a year was responsible for the positive response in my body is not that signifi-cant at this moment. suffice it to say, that as i delved visually into the tangles of my body and psyche, i emerged well.

White spheres continued to appear in my work, as at the top of “through Generation.” then, i interpreted them as seeds of growth, twelve seeds of renewal. that was the first time these had appeared related to healing in my work. they did not reappear until sixteen years later.

From earliest childhood in montreal, Canada, i felt comfortable alone in na-ture. my two last names mean deer – Yelin in Polish and hirsch in German. i have always felt comfortable where deer live, and during the time i lived in the rocky mountains of Banff, Canada (1985) i enjoyed a daily communing re-lationship with a forest deer.

After i moved to California in 1967, i began solo journeys into wilderness. in my first lone foray into the sierra nevada mountains in 1974, i was trapped in a blizzard, sank into the snow and was miraculously detected, found and re-trieved from under a snow bank two days later – a barely live utterly frozen

311Artist as Shaman

Fig. 1. Reconciliation, 1976, Oil on canvas,

2.5' diameter

Fig. 2. Through Generation, 1980, Oil on canvas, 5.5’ x 2’

Fig. 3. Surge, 1980, Oil on canvas, 5.5’ x 2’


Fig. 4. Five Forms – Alphabetic Morphology

Fig. 5. Letter Forms in Nature a) The first and last letters of the Hebrew alphabet, “aleph” and “taf” form the Hebrew word for “letter,” OT; b) “Y” in English. “Ayin” in Hebrew; c) “X” in English, “Aleph” in Hebrew; d) Examples of nature forms in alphabets, from “Cosmography, The Writing of the Universe.” GYH, DVD 1995; e) Eucalyptus tree; f) Human neuron; g) Dried branch

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body – and was revived. From the early 1980s i spent long solitary sojourns in wilderness, culminating in a 16 month retreat from 1989–1990 in an isolated mountain forest in northern Arizona.

During these long stays in wilderness, i began to perceive patterns in nature, eventually reading letters and words, first in hebrew and then in various alpha-bets in the landscape.

the Cabala states that each letter alone and in combination represents states of consciousness of the universe (Fig. 5).

i conjectured that as early man and woman roamed the landscape looking for food or alert for foe, they were repeatedly struck by certain patterns in na-ture that they eventually utilized as alphabetic morphology. i hypothesized at the time that these resonated because they mirrored the shapes of the neurons and neural processes of perception and cognition. By 1985 i had isolated five forms that i found to be present in all alphabets – ancient and modern. i was convinced that there is a continuous oscillating process between perception and cognition based on that which we are innately on a physiological level (Fig. 4).

Years of world travels ensued. i continued to look at alphabets, confirming my idea even farther. i also noticed that all things considered beautiful by all peoples share in these five forms. the nature of beauty appeared to be a reflec-tive/reflexive system mirroring the beauty of nature.

“The best therapeutic environment is said to be a place of great natural beauty,” the ancient tibetan medical treatise, Gyu-Zhi (tibetan rGud-bzhi), states unequivo-cally. if we label as 'beauty' the reflecting process which simultaneously induces harmonious states of wholeness, healing and health, we can then deduce that non-harmonious reflections, or the removal from or distortion of these positively reflecting elements, will cause negative emotions such as anxiety, fear, rage and grief.

studies in psychoneuroimmunology, a medical term for mind and body heal-ing, indicate that there is a significant relationship between healing and beauty on one hand and illness and chaos on the other.

the power of art and architecture lies in their potential to concentrate the ingredients of reflected beauty or life forms at the most innate level of being. in this vein, Dr. Gordon shaw, of university of California, irvine, shows that the notation of mozart’s most sublime music echoes the eeGs of very bright people. the highly publicized “mozart Quotient” has had the odd effect of popularizing classical music with the expectation of making young children, as well as adults, smarter (shaw and Peterson 1999).

in 1989–90 i lived alone in tonto national Forest in north eastern Arizona. i lived with flora and fauna – bear, elk, deer, coyote, tarantula, etc. With no heat, and no water, i had to learn to survive, particularly in the winter when the snows


were high and the temperatures fell to ten below zero. i covered the outside of the cabin with heavy plastic sheeting to reduce the effect of the wind. the in-terior temperature was never more than 32 degrees F. i had to melt snow for water, had to be ever vigilant against freezing, and was constantly working for survival. my only buddy was a baby bobcat who adopted me as his mother and slept in my hair. he grew enormous, but always considered himself tiny, even as he slithered off the bed and grabbed my head with his huge paw.

i grew more and more entranced by nature. i lost all sense of identity as it had been formed by attachments and position in the city. i was exiled from the human embrace and comforted by the universal embrace. there was no differ-ence between interior and exterior – everything was fluid. i had become tabula rasa. in January of 1990, the frozen pipes burst through the decaying wood floorboards of the cabin and one of the pipes leaked a steady stream of propane gas. it was too cold to cut the plastic open for ventilation. i was prepared to die. i lay on the bed, as always fully dressed, and dreamed: i saw my soul floating above me and the person who had saved me from the freezing death in 1974 stood by the bed and said, “You will get through this one in the snow too, Gilah.” i awoke, and from that moment on, the burdens and difficulties of simply stay-ing alive were transformed into the gifts of capacitating ongoing life. my will to live was far stronger than my will to die (Fig. 6). in 1986 and 1987 i journeyed through fifteen Asian cultures searching for that which is considered sacred. i also researched the relation between spiritual and medical/psychiatric treat-ment as it was practiced in each of these cultures, including examining form in rituals, believing that these would conform to the five patterns i had discovered as the basis of all alphabets. since i saw a correlation between neurological form

Fig. 6. Burden into Gift, 1995, Oil on canvas, 16” x 32”

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and alphabet, i was convinced that other well-functioning social systems would share healthy physiological patterns as well.

During that year i met and was befriended by ngawandandhup narkyid (Kuno), the official Biographer of the Dalai lama in Dharamsala, india. he undertook to instruct me in diverse esoteric aspects of both the history and spiritual practice of tibetan Buddhism. i became privy to the heart of another culture in which spiritual practice is simultaneously medical/psychiatric treatment. (Figs. 7 a, b)

in April of 1990 a letter from my friend, Kuno, arrived at my isolated moun-tain hermitage, inviting me to mcCleod Ganj, Dharamsala, home of the Dalai lama, to attend the first tantric (secret teachings) practice ever taught by a Da-lai lama. i left my snow covered mountain top in Arizona, and sat with tibetan monks in blizzards for six weeks on that other snow covered himalayan moun-

Fig. 7. Dharmsala, India a)

Ngawandhondup Narkyid (Kuno); b) Dalai Lama


tain top being filled with ancient teachings and very clear visualizations about how to live and how to die. the method of instruction was direct transmission of exceptionally detailed visualizations, which were accompanied by mudras (san-skrit mudrās) (hand gestures) and mantras (sounds).

one of the essential components of these teachings had to do with the pro-cess of attainment of Bodhicitta (Buddha-mind). Bodhicitta (compassion) was visualized as a white sphere which travelled from the top of the head down one side of the body through very specific channels and routes, essentially lubricat-ing every organ, and then travelling up and similarly nourishing the other side of the body to be eventually expelled out the of the crown chakra (top of the head) into the universe to spread compassion. Bodhicitta practice is core to the ultimate goal of enlightenment.

“the thought of enlightenment is said to be the one great thought that al-ways bears positive fruit. As inspiration, motivation, it is awakened by the prac-tice of the ‘four boundless meditations’: boundless love, boundless compassion, boundless sympathetic joy and boundless equanimity. the open, endless nature of these positive qualities, generated from the heart, leads to a state of complete meditative absorption (samādhi).” (Clifford 1994)

this fully interactive approach to changing mind, body, and speech had a pro-found emotional and behavioural effect on me. the highly articulated visualiza-tion process not only achieved a sense of emotional calm and well-being, but also a sense of physical wellness and energy.

After the teachings in Dharamsala i once again returned to my snowy moun-tain top in tonto national forest and remained there through spring and sum-mer, returning in september of 1990 to the civilization of los Angeles, my home, my life, my identity as artist, writer, and professor.

By this time, i had presented my theory on the origin of alphabet which i called Cosmography: The Writing of the Universe in many parts of the world. each time it was presented, it changed the vision and minds of the audience. Additionally, after each presentation in small or large groups, individuals com-mented that they felt emotionally and physically better. they stated that they were simultaneously stimulated by visually experiencing the ideas, while calmed by the sequencing and content of the imagery. they were so transformed by the pre-sentation that they were unable to see their environment, nor their world in the way they had seen it before.

meanwhile, i was thinking deeper into the implications of the connections between neurology, perception and psychoneuroimmunology (mind/body heal-ing). As an artist i knew that certain forms will catalyze direct psychophysiologi-cal affect in the viewer (as well as in the creator). our bodies are delicately en-tangled with our perceptions. every emotion precipitates biochemical reactions

317Artist as Shaman

that change the physical state of each cell of our bodies. in our culture, the only area where this sort of direct emotionally impacting influence is popularly ac-knowledged is in the realm of sexually explicit imagery, which in the west has come to be known as pornography.

Form affects feelingFeeling conjures metaphormetaphor demands expressionif the form conjures a positive feeling, or even a moderate sense of physical

and emotional comfort, anxiety and tension would be reduced. When this hap-pens, there is easier communication and attention between people as well as be-tween people and their environment. it is this form that is universally construed as 'beauty'. Form considered beauty, then, has to do with positive affect, as it prompts evolutionary behavior, such as contact, communication, care, compas-sion, attunement to the interdependent nature of all things, thus promoting health and well-being. Beauty reflects congruence between internal perceptual apparatus and externally perceived phenomena.

For example, Dr. Andre novac, psychiatrist at university of California, irvine, sent me his newly considered model of the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems. When the two systems, measured in sine waves, are working well, the sine waves overlap and form the image of the DnA helix. When they are ob-structed or in “chaos,” they lie in parallel, non-communicating lines. (Figs. 8 a, b, c)

“Beauty is…a compact, or contract between the beautiful being (a person or thing) and the perceiver. As the beautiful being confers on the perceiver the gift of life, so the perceiver confers on the beautiful being the gift of life…each

Fig. 8. Model of Dr. Andre

Novac: Sympathetic And Parasympathetic Systems a) Sine Wave; b) Working Well Together;

c) In Chaos


‘welcomes‘ the other; each – to return to the word’s original meaning – “comes in accordance with (the) other’s will.” (scarry 1999)

“this reciprocal pact should assist us in turning toward problems of justice…” scarry continues, as she considers the second attribute of beauty, “the pressure toward distribution.” if one experiences something or someone beautiful, one spontaneously wishes to duplicate it, by sharing it verbally, taking a photograph, drawing or painting, writing a poem, etc. scarry connects the mutuality of beau-ty to that of justice through the use of language: “the notion of pact here again comes into play. A single word, ’fairness,’ is used both in referring to loveliness of countenance and in referring to the ethical requirement for ‘being fair,’ ‘play-ing fair’ and ‘fair distribution.’”

my time alone in the forest had precipitated thoughts and writing about the nature of exile, specifically the continuum of independence to exile. With no other human referent, i had understood that i had become an ungrounded, floating soul. it became clear that we, humans, are herding animals, as were the animals i lived with, since it is only within the herd that we can be heard. i ques-tioned at what point does the independent thinker, explorer, astronaut lose connection with the community, prevailing belief systems, continent, galaxy, to drift into exile?

if contact and communication is the glue between thinkers, explorers, and astronauts, and gravity is the force tethering planets and galaxies, i believed that there must be a profoundly embedded paradigmatic reflexive model that allows us to perceive the forms that are considered beautiful, that promote health and interdependent evolutionary behaviour.

taking this as the next springboard, i began to examine human physiology from the cellular level. if, as i had come to believe, recognition is propriocep-tive, hard-wired into the physiological system, the meta-model of contact and communication must lie submerged in our deeper physiological recesses as well.

i looked at cell behaviour as it seemed to be a small enough discernable unit of life that tends to live in groups, as do herding animals and humans. i learned that adjacent cells “whisper” together through their cell membranes that vibrate in the electromagnetic field (soliton) created by the bioelectrical valence of vari-ous facilitating hormones, minerals and neurotransmitters. the presence of cal-cium, (an element that will weave into this discussion again), is essential for all of these processes to take place. if a cell ceases to be in contact with another, it becomes diseased. the synapse or “gap junction,” grows wider and unbridge-able. in trying to arrange other neighbours of communion, it begins to prolif-erate itself, becoming cancer. recent experiments conducted by Dr. ross Adey at loma linda, California, VA medical Center, show that the introduction of enough healthy cells into a cancerous environment may re-establish sufficient

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communication to propel the organism back to health. this process has been demonstrated in a film by Adey. (Figs. 9 a, b, c, d, e, f, g)

Cell communication met the parameters of my quest for a meta-model. even at that minute level, it is necessary to have an 'other' who mirrors. Yet the 'other' cannot be a clone, i.e. a cancer cell, but a fully differentiated functioning cell. i had found a deeply seeded metaphor for conscientious behaviour. We cannot mirror ourselves, although we may try to as narcissists. if we are physically iso-lated, we may begin to talk to ourselves. if we are emotionally isolated, we may produce multiple personalities. Yet our emotional search from birth is for a res-onating, not duplicating mirror. We look for congruency (as two hands clasped and wrapped inside each other), not identical sameness, (as two hands held up against each other). Difference, although harmonious, much like a triad in a mu-sical chord, is necessary to incite healthy growth. the well-intentioned rub of stimulation animates emotional and behavioural evolution.

this concept is reflected socially, universally. Joy is often culturally deter-mined, and predicated on achievement. For example, one culture will value many husbands, another many wives, one many sons, another many daughters, some are heterosexual, others homosexual, and gods change radically from group to group. however, grief is universally experienced in loss of contact with a loved one, bereavement, divorce, separation from Beauty, removal from a cultural and/or physical home, abandonment.

Fig. 9. Gap Junction a) electrical impuls solition; b) presence of calcium; c) communicating cell; d) Gap junction; e) Beginning cloning; f) Cells same (cancer)


in 1995 i began a series of paintings which i called the “Architecture of the temple of mind.” there were four in the series, all within the same format, hav-ing lead frames – the alchemist’s material. As i worked in each image sequential-ly, white spheres appeared. i suspected that they had to do with “worlds within worlds” of Chinese ivory sculpture, but then the thought of calcium crept into my mind. the spheres were persistent in their presence (Figs. 10 a, b, c, d).

hat my own body was in need of more calcium. Doctors generally advocate that people, particularly women, take calcium supplements as they grew older. i noticed two more parallel physiological/psychological congruencies: aging re-duces calcium in the bones and simultaneously may increase emotional isolation and loneliness among many individuals as the body declines. one may become less physically active, which may cause greater emotional/intellectual separa-tion.

i moved into the new studio building that i built adjacent to my house. my first painting, “Alembic” signaled new birth, and there were those white spheres, dancing in the field. there was something alive, almost scary, about this work (Fig. 11).

i began to seriously study calcium.“small ion with Cachet. the Calcium signal: Calcium is in a different league

from the sodium and potassium ions; though still quite small, it holds enough information to carry a hormone message. Crystallographers have known for some time that calcium is a cut above the rest of the small inorganic ion crowd...it has a flexible crystal field – bond distances and angles are adjustable, with coordination numbers that can vary from six to ten – and it has higher ioniza-tion energies. the adaptable coordination sphere permits a wide variety of co-operative packings, giving the ion an advantage in the cross-linking of crystal structures, both inorganic and organic ones. Proteins – domains with, say, six carbohydrate residues – can accept the calcium ion rapidly and sequentially and

Fig. 10. Architecture Of The Temple Of The Mind a) 1st Window in the Temple of the Mind, A/C, 1994, 22" x 30"; b) 2nd Window in the Temple of the Mind, A/C, 1994, 22" x 30"; c) 3rd Window in the Temple of the Mind, A/C, 1994, 22" x 30"; d) 4th Window in the Temple of the Mind, A/C, lead frame 1994, 32” x 23.5"

321Artist as Shaman

can twist around it, and all this with specific structure and reversible.

Thus, we may rightly say, this ion is within the proteins’ grasp.

“there is hardly a function in your body that doesn’t involve calcium: heartbeat, muscle contraction, gland secretion, signal transmission in the nervous system, signal transmission between nerve and muscle, cell division, cell motility, bioluminescence, cell adhesion, etc…” (loewi 1999 – discoverer chemical signal transmission in the nervous system, in loewenstein 2000)

in 1997 i began to paint in a diamond format, concurrently with other paintings. i found the diamond to be very much a mirror of the body, my body, and the white spheres persisted.

in “equipoise” i was searching for the bal-ance between mind and body, heaven and earth, firmament and water (Fig. 12).

i wondered if it were possible that these white spheres could possibly be Bodhicit-ta, compassion, similarly envisioned in the tantric (tibetan secret) visualizations.

in “Delicately tangled in the sway” i looked deeper into the heart of hearts, where the ex-perience of loving is felt (Fig. 13).

in the summer of 1998 i was in Dharamsa-la again, a guest in the Dali lama’s monastery, reading everything i could find about tibetan medicine and psychiatry, hoping to discover a link. it was then that i came across the rare Gyu-Zhi, as quoted in Tibetan Medicine and Psychiatry (Clifford 1994) to my astonish-ment also called “the Diamond healing.”

“…the three kayas, the “three bodies of the Buddha,” the Dharamkaya, the samb-hogakaya and nirmanakaya represent the Buddhist sacred trinity of the three levels of expression of the reality of Buddha-nature.

Fig. 11. Alembic, Oil on canvas, 1997, 60" x 50"

Fig. 12. Equipoise, Oil on wood, 1997, 38" x 38"

Fig. 13. Delicately Tangled in the Sway, Oil on canvas, 1998, 42" x 42"


they represent the unmanifest, subtle and manifest levels of Buddha-essence. they represent the Buddha mind, the Buddha speech, and the Buddha body".

in Vajrayana, the practice is to transform ourselves and the world around us into the body, speech and mind of the Buddha. these practices are described in a series of texts known as tantras (tibetan rGyud). through tantric esoteric ritu-als the practitioner creates and simultaneously identifies with a particular form of deity. this is accomplished through visualization, mantras (special formulas of syllables that use the spiritual power of sound vibration), mudras (symbolic gestures that awaken spiritual receptivity and awareness), and through formless meditation. in these tantric sadhanas or, in fact in any meditation or religious practice, there are three things the tradition holds of main importance: first, to have the intention of doing the practice for the sake of the liberation of all beings; second, to be unattached to the experiences that may arise in meditation; and third, to share the merit of the practice, to emulate none other than the medi-cine Buddha himself. While the physician is practicing medicine normally he is spiritually identified with the medicine Buddha…”

i learned about “thigles,” visualized as spheres or the vital essences which are of two types: absolute and relative. “the relative thigles are of many kinds and pervade the body as vital essence-drops…”

All the thigles in the body are generated from the main thigle in the central channel at the heart center. this central thigle is composed of the pure quin-tessence of the five elements (represented by five–colored light); it also con-tains the essence of the life-force. the red mother essence-drop and the white father essence-drop are generated from it and move downwards and upwards respectively, in the central column……when the thigles are maintained in the body as gross essences rather than wisdom essences, the world outside is perceived negatively. When maintained as wisdom essences, good karma is created in the practice for the universal womb of illumination…

in the higher mahayana and Vajrayana, the medicine Buddha is not simply worshipped for his healing powers. the medicine Buddha is the form of Bud-dha-nature that the practitioner aspires to realizing himself. through practice of meditation of the medicine Buddha, one can generate enormous healing power for self-healing and for healing others. thus, the exalted model that the tibetan Buddhist physician aspires. transmuting the thigles into their refined wisdom nature, the world is perceived in a positive way, and one’s awareness blossoms as bliss and peace. thus the purpose of tantric yoga is to untangle the knots in the channels, purify the karmic wind-energies, and reveal the thigles as the na-ture of wisdom.”

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i remembered and reviewed the two healing paintings of 1980, “through Generation” and “surge.” At the time i had worked to untangle the physical and emotional knots present in my body (Fig. 14).

“the thigles are, through yogic practice, drawn into the hollows of the central column along with the airs. By controlling all the airs and essences and sending them into the central column, and further activating those essences within the central column with the force of the “mystic heat” one opens the mandalas of the chakras, the inner psychic centers along the central column, and sets a straight course to full enlightenment.

the absolute thigle is pervasive. it represents the Buddha-nature and exists within all the subtle pathways, airs, and essences. it is the “Great thigle” which is the same as the absolute bodhi-mind. …realization of the great thigle is tan-tamount to enlightenment. this is the transformation that occurs when the subtle airs and essences are in the central column and become respectively the inherent wisdom-air (tibetan ye she kyi rlung) and bodhi-mind.

therefore the central channel is the most important space within the subtle body; in its realized state it is called the “Wisdom Channel.” When it is con-trolled and purified, it completely transforms the basic ignorance (which it rep-resents) that is the cause of all delusion. it is the “middle Vein” like the “middle Way,” and in this sense it indicates that its nature is shunyata (sanskr. śūnyatā) and that it avoids the two extremes of nihilism and externalism (the polarities of energies of two veins). This vein is not produced by visualization. It is discovered by visualization and meditation. It is always there. It is the main link between the purely spiritual and purely physical worlds.

realization of the karmic airs as the wisdom-air and the thigles as the bodhi-mind within this central channel at the heart center is equivalent to realization of the Dharmakaya.”

Fig. 14. Tibetan Medicine: Body

energy systems


in “exaltation” i was perceiving harmony in the many aspects of the universe, the white spheres ever present. however, i began to notice a pattern in the place-ment of the spheres (Fig. 15).

i became convinced that there was a correlation between Bodhicitta and cal-cium. And i believed the locations of the white spheres or thigles were related to acupuncture points. i read in, Tibetan Medicine and Psychiatry, “tantric mystic physiology of the subtle body is directly related to the somatic physiology of regu-lar medicine, and the tantric practices of manipulating it bear directly on tantric healing. For example, the system of subtle veins and pathways are the channels used and manipulated in tibetan acupuncture and moxibustion” (Clifford 1994).

on the 29th of June, 1999 i was in a near fatal accident on Queen Charlotte island, 200 miles out from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, in the Pacific ocean. this archipelago has been the home of the haida indians for 15,000 years. the steering wheel of the rented car seized up, took off to the right, rolled three times and landed upside down, in a ravine invisible from the road. i was left hanging upside down, unconscious, my thorax twisted and crushed be-tween the two front seats. many hours later the overturned crunched car and my crushed unconscious body were miraculously discovered. i survived, and became neither quadriplegic nor brain dead. i had broken two vertebrae, many ribs, the scapula on both sides, sternum, tibia, five millimeters of bone fragment floating in my spinal channel, injured head, and my heart so contused until that i have continued for years to have flat t waves on my eKG.

From the first moment of consciousness i began to visualize life. After 5 days in unequipped remote island infirmary, i returned to los Angeles alone by sheer volition and morphine “to go”. there, in an mri tunnel i literally saw how ter-ribly injured my body was, and i experienced unbounded compassion for my se-verely broken skeleton and smashed organs. i understood that my body had once again insisted on life rather than death. i had no surgery but was immobilized in my home on my back for three months in a back brace, and my full time job was active visualization – practicing imagery, cell by cell, to heal my back, chest and heart. With the aid of medical texts, i pictured discreet and specific images at all levels of the physiology, bringing it from the pathological to the health-ful state. When i began to walk, and could pick up a brush for a minute or two, i began to paint again, at the beginning one stroke per day if at all. i intended to reconstruct my body from the inside out. every bit of that active intentional change was geared toward the direction of wellness as life could be used toward service. i knew i held the greatest power to heal my own body.

As in my self-healing work twenty years earlier, i was the one initiating and effecting the healing from the inside out. i focused on regeneration of the ribs, spinal column, cells, evoking the DnA and reflowering power of spirit in “Who

325Artist as Shaman

Will live and Who Will Die? the Jaws of life and Death.” (the hebrew words, “mi Yichyeh Vami Yamut? – Who Will live and Who Will Die?” from the Jewish high holi-day prayers are painted in the lower part of the work. i felt it necessary to add the pow-er of written incantation along with the im-agery) (Fig. 16).

i was painting layers and layers of imag-ery as the body changed, from the trauma of the breaks to the light and wholeness of the image. the white spheres continued to appear. i realized that that they were ar-ranged in a pattern that reflected merid-ian and acupuncture points. By focusing on these healing spots the paintings were increasingly acting as medicine paintings.

in “refuge” (Fig. 17, hebrew: Chassiah) i magically parted the ribs and painted protection for the heart and spinal cord, in a bed of healthy cells. (Chassiah is my first given name, although i have never been called by that name. i inscribed the word in hebrew around the spinal cord.)

i felt and continue to feel enormous gratitude for the gift of life, and hope that the tasks for which i have been spared will be accomplished with grace equal to that which i have been granted. in the months of painting “Grace” (Fig. 17). (hebrew: Chessed, inscribed in red in the upper part of the work,) i came to a profound under-standing of the seeming internal chaos, yet all held together by a strong force at the heart. All is simultaneously substantive, di-mensional and transparent, all illuminated by the entire spectrum, revealing a matrix of interpenetrating layers of life (Fig. 18).

i read later in the Gyu-Zhi, “the whole of conditioned existence consists of radia-

Fig. 15. Exaltation, Oil on canvas, 1999, 70.5" x 70.5"

Fig. 16. Who Will Live & Who Will Die? The Jaws of Life & Death, Oil on canvas, 1999, 85" x 85"

Fig. 17. Refuge, Oil on wood, 2000, 27" x 27"


tions of energy vibrations emitted as rays or as fields of force and at varying rates of speed and thus solidity, intersecting and in-teracting in accordance with the harmonics of karmic balance.”

i was determined to uncover what i could to corroborate my idea about calcium and Bodhicitta. in my experience, the tibetan mind is one of the most acute in the world. the rigorous climate and all protein diet, con-tribute to honing an incisive mind and lean dedicated body. my strong hunch was that the visualization practice contained calcium in its metaphor. i re-examined what i knew about tibetan history and diet. the high-est peaks of the himalayas are the young-est mountains of the world (called the Baby mountains in tibetan). that means that they were most recently covered in crusta-cean-rich sediment. the tibetan diet on the tibetan plateau is almost 100% yak that eats the tiny plants nourished by the crustacean-rich soil. Yak meat, butter, cheese is a high protein, high calcium diet. i conjectured that when the tantric healing visualizations were conceived, calcium had been combined with Bodhicitta (Buddha-mind/compassion), at either the conscious or unconscious level.

i emailed my friend Kuno, in the Pri-vate office of the Dalai lama, sending him my idea and requesting published imagery and direct translation of the tantric practice i had been taught in Dharamsala by the Da-lai lama. he suggested i send my request to Geshe tsultrim Gyeltsen, (1924–2009), an authority on tantric practice, founding direc-tor and spiritual head of the thubten Dar-jeeling tibetan temple and Center in long Beach, California. Geshe-la responded with

Fig. 18. Grace, Oil on canvas, 2000, 85" x 85"

Fig. 19. Wind/ Spirit (Ruach), Oil on canvas, 2001, 17" x 17"

Fig. 20. Light as Space as Skin, Oil on canvas, 2001, 68" x 68"

The Hebrew word for Light, “Or,” is the homonym for Skin

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a telephone call and the following letter that he permitted me to excerpt and quote:

…First, there are two types of Bodhicitta: the first Bodhicitta is that mind which perceives the great enlightenment of Buddhahood: it is a consciousness and is the real Bodhicitta. the Bodhicitta which you are referring to, coming from the crown chakra down through the wind channels etc, is the second Bodhicitta, the physical, white bodhicitta which is merely named Bodhicitta.

The first Bodhicitta that I mentioned is not directly related to or with calcium. The physical, white bodhicitta and calcium are connected because both are related with elements of the body. If calcium helps to support the health or well being of an individual, then it does indirectly relate to the first Bodhicitta in that it sustains a practitioner’s ability to remain healthy and continue to meditate on the first Bodhicitta. The great compassion though, is the true cause of the real Bodhicitta, which is the mind aspiring to great enlightenment in order to benefit all sentient beings. As I mentioned, the functions of the physical white bodhicitta are contained in the secret teachings (tantra) and it would not be suitable to discuss this with those who have no background in Buddhist teachings and have not received proper initiation into the secret teachings…

Conclusionthe hebrew word for wind, Ruach (Fig. 19), is also the word for spirit. each breath inspires grace in life and the exchange of atoms physically connects all things. Both artist and shaman trans-form by conjuring: the artist trans-figures the medium into form in order to change the mind/body of both the artist and the viewer, much as the shaman (or a lama or priest) invokes an altered state of mind and/or body by visual/aural performance. sequenced ritual is key to both, and may be either private or public. Both artist and shaman must wisely shape the metaphors that they use as well as the metaphors by which they are known.

As surviving creatures of nature, we already have the blueprint for compas-sionate high efficiency, hard-wired and available, literally at hand. if we use our awareness and powers to model and remodel relationships, environments, archi-tecture, social and political institutions so that they will be based on the linea-ments of natural, paradigmatic form, we will more deftly accomplish our goals of harmony and peace. As creators and reflectors of divinity, our capacities are only beginning to be known. Divinity in humanity implies spirituality in behav-ior. With this focus directing mind and heart, we have an optimal opportunity to consciously link the eternal with the temporal, and the spiritual with the physical, providing an arena in which the human and the universal can embrace (Fig. 20).


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The Diamond Healing, foreword by hh Dalai lama, introduction by lokesh Chandra, Delhi: motilal Banarsidass Publishers Private limited.

loewenstein, W. r. 2000. The touchstone of life: Molecular information, cell communication, and the foundations of life. oxford: oxford university Press.

scarry, e. 1999. On beauty and being just. Princeton, nJ: Princeton university Press.turner, e. 1996. The hands feel it: Healing and spirit presence among a Northern Alaska

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shamanhood and art: traditional and contemporary arts, artists, and shamans

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