The Shaman's Mirror

by Hope MacLean

  » shamanic activities, such as curing or helping women in childbirth; shamanic activities other than conducting ceremonies

  » cosmologies, such as José Benĺtez’s supernatural maps or Mariano Valadez’s land, sea, and sky paintings

  » mandala nierikate; symmetrical images with repeated figures, some moving toward pure abstraction

  » single figures with minimal narrative content; simple designs such as an animal, a flower, a peyote, or a muwieri

  » dreams and visions; depictions of the experiences of the artist

  » miscellaneous; paintings, such as those depicting Christ on the cross, which do not deal with aboriginal Huichol cultural themes, but which may reflect what has become modern Huichol culture

  Myths, ceremonies, and depictions of deities are some of the most popular themes. When painting myths and ceremonies, the artists often aim for accuracy and completeness of detail. In myths, they try to show all the main characters of the story. For ceremonies, they try to make sure that all the required offerings for the ceremony are shown, as well as the main actors and activities. Thus, the paintings might be considered a type of visual aide-mémoire: a guide to a myth, ceremony, or story, along with a list of its important elements.

  The use of a straight line of repeated figures—a motif drawn from traditional weaving and embroidery—has become less popular over time. I found few examples of it. It has evolved into the mandala nierika with a circle of repeated figures. The mandala nierika has become an important item of commerce; several artists turn them out almost like assembly lines. It is probably a particularly easy design to reproduce because of the standardized circular shape and repeating symbols.

  The “land, sea, and sky” cosmological painting has become a popular theme also. Made by artists who worked with Mariano, it has been adopted by artists who have not worked with him. Mariano’s realistic style is being passed on to other Huichol artists, who copy his lifelike animals and human figures.

  In 2000, for the first time, I saw a realistic yarn painting of a landscape without figures. In a painting of fields and mountains, the artist used perspective to show distance, and fairly naturalistic colors for grass and trees. I expect that in the future, this trend toward realism in yarn painting will continue. The Western fondness for realism may well encourage the yarn painters to satisfy it.

  I have seen some yarn painting with Christian themes. A yarn-painted Christ on the Cross was on display at the Basilica of Zapopan, and staff said the artist was a Huichol invalid living in Guadalajara. This yarn painting, with its Christian subject matter, does not reflect what is usually thought to be Huichol tradition; however, it may reflect modern religious practice in the Sierra. There is an active cult of santos, which are Christ figures on crosses. I saw these wooden santos displayed in the church in San Andrés and used extensively in ceremonies such as the Fiesta de Pachitas. Therefore, a yarn-painted version of a Christ is not necessarily a sign of non-Huichol imagery. It may grow out of what is “traditional” Huichol culture in the Sierra today.

  A Huichol who had joined a Protestant evangelical church showed me his yarn painting of Noah and his ark full of animals. He identified it as Noah rather than the Huichol story of Nakawe and her ark. I would speculate that the reason Huichols make few yarn paintings on Christian themes is that Western buyers do not want them—they are not “Indian” enough.

  Some paintings are attributed directly to visionary experiences. The Mara’akame Talks to the Deer God at Night by Eligio Carrillo shows a mara’akame in ceremony talking to a giant deer, which hovers over the fire; the colors represent the mara’akame’s power, which lights up the night sky like a searchlight (Fig 9.4; MacLean 2005, 67).

  Fabian González Rĺos explained that his painting of an evil spirit and an owl is based on a vision he experienced as a young man. He saw these spirits come into the house one night and offer him powers. However, his father, a mara’akame, also saw the spirits and advised Fabian not to become a mara’akame, because those spirits would lead him to deceive people. So Fabian became an artist instead.

  Religious subjects are primary. Everyday or natural events, such as daily life in a village or nature scenes and landscapes, do not appear in yarn paintings. Nor are yarn paintings abstract art—that is, pure form without content. They are always representational paintings. However, some paintings, such as the mandala nierikate, are on the edge of losing their link with empirical referents and becoming purely an exercise in color and design.

  The subject categories for yarn paintings that I have developed here are arbitrary groupings—a pragmatic way of organizing the paintings. Huichol artists may have their own categories, which likely will be different from mine. Several times during interviews, I noticed that artists categorized their paintings by the particular ceremony or myth depicted. An artist might say, “I know how to make a yarn painting of the Drum Ceremony, the Fiesta of the Peyote, the Birth of the Sun,” and so on. Evidently, the artists were most interested in the ceremonies or myths, and used these as the basis of their categorization. Even more specifically, they seemed to see the most significant aspect of the paintings as the depictions of the offerings that were presented to the gods. Thus, in telling me about their paintings, the artists might list which offerings should be presented at each ceremony and explain how they had represented all the offerings in the yarn painting, not omitting any. I have touched on this role above, suggesting that the yarn paintings may almost serve as a form of aide-mémoire or perhaps as a historical record of what the artists consider important in the Huichol tradition.

  Fig. 7.3. Fabian González Rĺos, a yarn painting of his vision of an evil spirit, death, and an owl, 1994. 24” x 24” (60 x 60 cm). The painting shows a mara’akame healing a patient, bottom. The devil, who wants to carry off the person, is passing his powers to death, represented as a skeleton. The owl is the companion of death. However, the other powers, such as the sun and the deer, will not let death take the person. The mara’akame bargains with death, promising him offerings in return for the patient’s life. Photo credit: Hope MacLean.

  Table 7.1. Comparison of Attributes of Sacred and Commercial Yarn Paintings

  The commercial yarn paintings retain many elements from the sacred offerings. Table 7.1 summarizes some of the similarities and differences.

  Symbols and Imagery

  I have debated whether to call the images in yarn paintings “symbols.” The figures in yarn painting are not generally “symbols” in a theoretical sense—that is, images that stand for or represent something other than the image itself. The images represent exactly what they are, whether a man, a deer, or a prayer arrow. However, the drawings may be simplified or somewhat abstract. The artists usually paint figures that are simplified sketches of whatever they mean to portray, such as a stick figure for a person, or a wand with two oval feathers for a muwieri. The most abstract images may be the various stars, crisscrosses, or netted circles that depict the nierika.

  Yarn painters use a basic vocabulary of symbols to convey stories and ideas. When one knows these symbols and the mythology they refer to, it is possible to “read” the figures in a yarn painting with some confidence. The specific meaning of a painting always depends on the artist’s explanation. Each painter has his or her own style of drawing figures, but they tend to be variations on a theme. In general, there is a remarkable consistency in which objects are considered important and how they are portrayed.

  The Huichol have evolved, and probably are still evolving, a pictorial vocabulary to depict their religious worldview. While some design elements are old, such as two deer facing a nierika, appearing in offerings and artifacts collected by Lumholtz and Zingg, many other images appear to be modern innovations. The stylized mara’akame with head plumes is one such innovation; it does not seem to appear in museum artifacts or in traditional Huichol weaving or embroidery designs. The combining of designs to tell stories is also new. It seems that new figures and elements ar
e being added to the vocabulary by innovative artists and then adopted by other artists. Examples include paintings such as the “land, sea, and sky” nierikate as well as those depicting myths and ceremonies.

  Huichol drawing is remarkably conservative, and there is a great deal of continuity between the imagery in yarn paintings and the older Huichol arts. Many of the images can be found in offerings, weaving, embroidery, beadwork, and other arts collected by Lumholtz in the 1890s. For example, the stick-figure person is found in samples of embroidery, front-shields, and god disks. A diverse range of animals, ranging from stick figures to somewhat rounded representations, can be seen in Lumholtz’s examples of stone disks, front-shields, embroidery, and weaving.

  Far from being a completely modern invention, the symbols in yarn paintings are an outgrowth of symbols used historically. Over time, there has been a gradual evolution in the style of drawing, but many artists still continue to draw their symbols in ways quite similar to those used in the older arts. Perhaps what is most new in yarn painting is the freedom allowed by the medium. That is, the artists have the freedom to paint anywhere on the board, to use free-flowing lines, curves, circles, and shapes in a painterly way, to paint in a wide range of colors, and to use fine detail. They are not restricted by the linearity of a medium such as weaving, cross-stitch embroidery, or beadwork, which build up images in vertical and horizontal lines.

  8

  making yarn paintings

  Eligio Carrillo sits down to make yarn paintings in the morning. After breakfast, he brings a small wooden table out of his three-room concrete-block house and sets it down in the shade of a large mango tree on his patio, a level patch of earth swept clean of plants, debris, and insects. In front of him on the table is a plywood board spread with beeswax. To one side is a plastic bag filled with balls of acrylic yarn.

  Eligio works in the midst of his family, surrounded by household activities. When I sat with Eligio, visitors came and went, young men fixed a truck engine, pigs and chickens wandered through the yard. Women gossiped and ground corn for tortillas, children ran through the cooking area, and dogs scratched their fleas.

  Eligio works all day, stopping for lunch, his main meal, at about one. After a meal of thick homemade corn tortillas, boiled beans, a sauce of chile peppers or tomatoes ground in a stone molcahuete, and perhaps a fried egg or some meat stew, he resumes work. During the day, he moves the table around the patio, following the shade of the mango trees. By late afternoon, he is sitting in the shadow cast by his house. He works until about five or six o’clock, when the light begins to fade. Then he covers the painting with a towel to protect it from dust and animals and carefully takes it into the house. He packs up his balls of yarn, takes the table back into the house, and joins his family around a campfire for a few hours of conversation before going to bed by eight or nine. While Eligio lives in an area that now has electricity, power is costly and not to be wasted. He and his family organize their work around the daylight hours.

  Techniques and Materials

  Eligio begins his yarn painting by waxing the board. First, he softens the wax by rolling small balls between his hands. He places the balls on the edge of the board, then spreads them in strips with his thumb. He spreads the whole board at one time. An experienced artist can spread a board quite evenly this way. Some artists use a small tool to even out the thickness.

  Fig. 8.1. Eligio Carrillo sitting at a table on his patio and beginning a yarn painting by making a border of lines around the outside to invoke the spirits, 1994. He presses the yarn into the beeswax with a finger. Photo credit: Hope MacLean.

  Eligio has a choice of two types of wax. One is a white beeswax mixed with pine resin. This is the only wax I saw in the late 1980s, and for a long time, it was the only kind available in Tepic. Eligio still uses this kind of wax, which he has been using since he was young. The white wax can be identified because it smells of pine. It may dry out over time, especially if kept in a hot, dry place, and the yarn can lift off the wax. Because it used to be cheaper, it was used more at the lower end of the market.

  The second wax is called cera de Campeche and comes from a particular type of bee in Mexico. It is dark orange and smells like honey. Most painters now use cera de Campeche because it is easier to work with and stays sticky longer. It used to be sold only in Mexico City; in the mid-1990s, dealers started to sell it in Tepic.

  Artists using white wax may have to put the board in the sun to warm it every time they work on it. Early morning is best. By midday, the sun may be too hot and will melt the wax. If there is already part of a design on the board, the wax may melt through the yarn and ruin the painting. On a cool, cloudy day, it may not be possible to work because the wax will not become sticky enough. Cera de Campeche is more reliable because it remains sticky and pliable even when cool.

  After waxing the board, Eligio takes up a ball of yarn to begin painting. He starts by making a border of straight colored lines around the outside edge. Eligio says that this is a way of acknowledging, or making a prayer to, the sacred powers or deities in the four directions and the center. Once he does this, he feels the sacred powers wake up and begin to communicate with him.

  ELIGIO: The three lines [around the border] refer to the four cardinal directions. They have always existed. Because we have that custom to do it this way when a person is translating [speaking shamanically to the powers]. And normally, we go to the right, then secondly to the left, wa tuatüa, wa ku tu hi rrapa. There are five points. And [the person] has to notify [the powers] so that they can give guidance on how to be able to do it at a ceremony over there, to guide you. That’s how you can give them a gift [Sp.: propina, literally, a tip] to those four, five places. Because they are going to wake up then, because we are going to translate. Then we feel the power, making contact.

  HOPE: It is like waking up the powers?

  ELIGIO: Yes. Wake up the powers. To be able to work.

  HOPE: And then almost always you make [the border] first, right?

  ELIGIO: Yes.

  HOPE: And it is like a prayer?

  ELIGIO: Prayers, yes.

  It occurs to me that the border is remarkably similar to a traditional god’s eye or thread cross, with its concentric colored lines and its reference to the four sacred directions. I wonder whether the god’s eye could be the antecedent for the border on yarn paintings.

  Eligio usually uses three colors to make a border. He says there is no particular significance to the number three. It is simply a custom, and artists can use as many colors they like. Three-color borders are common, but some artists use as many as five or six colors. Some artists choose contrasting colors such as pink, yellow, and blue, while other artists prefer colors adjacent to each other on a color wheel, such as yellow, orange, and red.

  A second type of border uses geometric shapes, such as a row of repeating triangles or a fretwork (Greek key) design. These borders have a close relationship to the border designs used in embroidery, and have deep roots in ancient Mesoamerican and pan-Uto-Aztecan arts.1 Similar designs are found in sacred offerings such as those collected by Zingg and Lumholtz (Berrin 1978, 152–153).

  A few artists begin in the center and work their way outward. This method protects the edges of the painting from being damaged or soiled while the artist is working on the middle.

  After completing the border, Eligio draws the main figures. Sometimes he begins by painting with yarn directly on the wax. Other times, he uses a sharp object such as a nail or the point of a metal compass to make a rough sketch in the wax. When he is making the circular design of a nierika, he uses his metal compass to draw a neat circle.

  Eligio starts work on his figures, pressing the yarn into the wax. He holds the strand of yarn to one side, and presses along its length using a fingernail or his thumbnail. Most artists work with one strand at a time. Some can press two strands at once. Eligio works carefully, pressing firmly, making sure the yarn strands lie tightly against each othe
r, and making many turns in the direction of the yarn.

  As Eligio changes the direction of the yarn, the painting takes on a textured look. Rather than using straight lines, he fills in the background with solid colors and follows the curves of the main figures. The texture creates pleasing patterns and may also help preserve the painting. Yarn laid down with frequent turns in direction is less likely to snag and lift off the wax than yarn laid down in straight rows.

  The technique of pressing the yarn neatly takes time to master. Some artists learn by filling in the background for other artists. Once they have mastered the technique, they may move on to doing their own paintings.

  Eligio applies no fixative or protective coating to the surface of the painting after he finishes it.

  Yarn

  Eligio uses commercial acrylic yarn, dyed with aniline dyes. In fact, the Huichol prefer the bright colors and range of hues available in aniline-dyed acrylics. Acrylic yarns are cheaper than wool and easy to find in Mexican stores. Acrylic yarn may also be more practical than wool because it resists damage from acids in the wax as well as from insects and moisture.

  I have never seen a yarn painter using sheep wool or natural dyes for commercial yarn paintings. There is very limited documentation suggesting that sheep wool was used in the 1960s. Some Huichol still know about natural dyes, but they are seldom used. Schaefer (2002, 47–48) is collecting information on plant dyes from the few older women who remember how to make them. She records use of wild indigo for blue, a form of marigold (Tagetes erecta) for yellow, a cosmos for orange, brazilwood for reddish purple, and palo dulce (Eysenhardtia polystachya) for blue-green. Eligio told me that in the past, yarn for sacred paintings was dyed red with brazilwood or cuachalala.