Musical Landscapes in Chile

TOKATA, & Cantata Santa María de Iquique, Temuco

2011-12-27T14:29:00.000-08:00

ESPAÑOL (English below)

Hace 104 años, el 21 de diciembre 1907, entre 2.200 y 3.600 obreros se murieron en la Matanza de la Escuela de Santa María de Iquique, durante una de las masacres más grandes de esa época en la República de Chile. Las víctimas eran de distintos países, y habían declarado una huelga general por las condiciones laborales en las minas de salitre en el norte de Chile. Hoy en día, Iquique permanece una ciudad icónica de la costa norteña del país, culturalmente y economicamente activa, así como un lugar hermoso. El cobre ahora reemplaza el salitre como el recurso principal que se extrae por la minería en el Desierto Atacama en el norte de Chile, ya que el salitre es un ingrediente antiguo en las municiones, el fertilizante, y otros compuestos. Además que el acceso precioso al mar en la región del Desierto Atacama, Chile peleaba contra Perú y Bolivia durante los años 1870 para asegurar su dominio sobre los recursos bajo el superficie en el desierto. Una buena cantidad de la inversión para las aventuras militaristas e industriales provenía del extranjero, presagiando la dinámica económica y política en el Chile actual, así como las repercusiones sociales.

El 20 de diciembre 2011, un grupo de músicos se juntaron en Temuco para tocar la “Cantata Santa María de Iquique,” una obra que dura una hora, compuesta en 1969 por Luis Advis Vitaglich, y popularizado por el grupo de nueva canción, Quilapayún. Por todo Chile, los músicos tocan la cantata cada año, muchas veces en lugares públicos, sin cobrar entrada. La muestra en Temuco tomó lugar en la Plaza Dagoberto Godoy (más frecuentemente llamada la Plaza Hospital), frente un público grande. Mientras las brisas frías de la tarde provocaron que tiritaran la gente, los músicos llenaron el aire de hermosas melodías de quena, ritmos galopantes, y versos solemnes sobre la tragedia de hace más que un siglo.

Antes de la cantata, los músicos, liderados por Javier Fuentes y Titi Aguila Rojas, organizaron una tokata, durante la cual participaron otros músicos y poetas. Aquí se encuentra un video de 13 minutos, de la poesía y la música de antes, así como una serie de fotos y una grabación de audio de la cantata.

ENGLISH

104 years ago, on December 21, 1907, between 2,200 and 3,600 workers died in the Matanza de la Escuela de Santa María de Iquique (the Massacre of the Santa María School) during one of the early Chilean Republic’s major massacres of striking laborers. The victims hailed from various countries, and declared a general strike regarding the labor conditions in the salitre (nitrate) mines in northern Chile. Iquique today remains an iconic coastal, northern Chilean city, culturally and economically active, not to mention gorgeous. Copper now supersedes nitrate as the major resource extracted by mining in the Atacama Desert in northern Chile, as nitrate is an antiquated ingredient in munitions, fertilizers, and other compounds. In addition to the precious access to the sea in the Atacama region, Chile went to war with Perú and Bolivia during the 1870s in order to secure its dominion over subsurface desert resources such as nitrate. A good deal of the financing for military and industrial adventures into the region was foreign, foreshadowing the economic and political dynamics of contemporary Chile, and the social repercussions.

On December 20, 2011, a group of musicians gathered in Temuco to perform the “Cantata Santa María de Iquique,” an hour-long cantata composed in 1969 by Luis Advis Vitaglich, and popularized by the nueva canción group Quilapayún. All around Chile, musicians perform the cantata every year, often for free and in public venues. The performance in Temuco took place in the Plaza Dagoberto Godoy (more commonly known as the Plaza Hospital), before a large audience. As the cool, late afternoon breeze started to make people shiver, the group filled the air with soaring quena melodies, galloping rhythms, and solemn verses recalling the tragedy over a century ago.

Before the cantata began, the musicians, lead by Javier Fuentes and Titi Aguila Rojas, held an open tokata (a playing, or a music performance), in which a number of other musicians and poets participated. Here is a 13-minute video of the performance, followed by photos of the Cantata, and an audio recording.

Cantata de Santa Maria, Plaza Hospital, Temuco, 11-12-20

Del Día por la Tierra, a la Controversía de HydroAysén

2011-05-13T10:06:00.000-07:00

ESPAÑOL

(In English, below)

Hoy día (el 12 de mayo) merece la pena revisitar el tema del ambientalismo. Hace dos días, la Intendenta de Aysén en la Patagonia, con el apoyo del Presidente Piñera y los Ministros de Energía y de Interior, aprobó un controversial proyecto de desarrollo, incluso la construcción tras diez años de cinco centros hidroeléctricos por corporaciones extranjeras, para llevar unos 2.600.000 MW de energía desde embalsadas aguas patagónicas hasta la capital de Santiago. El 10 de mayo terminó con manifestaciones y protestas en Coyhaique (en Aysén), Temuco, Santiago, y otras ciudades, criticando lo que se ve de muchos lados como un proceso cerrado de aprobación, entre funcionarios públicos ya decididos hace mucho tiempo, y muchos vinculados a las empresas involucradas.[i] Además, el proyecto parece ignorar la obligación del gobierno, puesta por la ONU, de consultar con los pueblos indígenas antes de llevar a cabo tales mega-proyectos.[ii]

Tomás Mosciatti, del Radio Bío-Bío, resume la polémica, enfocando los siguientes asuntos (su video de CNN se vincula arriba). El Ministro de Energía de Chile justificó la aprobación de HidroAysén por citar una emergencia energética, sin embargo los pasos normalmente tomados en tales situaciones (por ejemplo, el racionamiento de luz) nunca ocurrieron. El Ambajador chileno en Buenos Aires ha hablado de la venta de energía chilena en Argentina, lo que significaría que Chile se quedaría con la contaminación, como el precio de hacer negocios, mientras vendría en el extranjero la energía que no se alcanza gastar en este lado. Pues, concretamente 100% de la energía producida por HidroAysén irá a Santiago, por 2.200km de tendido, cuya construcción todavía no ha sido aprobada ambientalmente. El tendido cruzará seis parques nacionales, once reservas, dieciséis humedales, y treinta y dos áreas privadas protegidas. El sistema tarifario de la producción de energía en Chile se basa en los métodos menos eficientes, entonces los chilenos pagarán a los dueños de HidroAysén la tarifa medida para la producción de energía con el petróleo, mientras en realidad se usarán el agua. HidroAysén disminuye la competencia y aumenta la concentración en el ya monopolístico sector energético de Chile: Colbún y ENDESA, dos de las tres más grandes corporaciones energéticas operando en Chile, se han combinado en HidroAysén, y como resultado compartirán 80% del mercado chileno de energía. Por su parte, ENDESA, basada en España, ya es dueño de 96% de los derechos de agua en Aysén.

INGLÉS

“Porque mi cuerpo es tierra—sangre y agua”: follow-up on Día por la Tierra—why call attention to environmentalism?

Right now (May 12) it is worth revisiting the topic of environmentalism. Two days ago, the Intendenta (regional governor) of the Aysén region in Patagonia, with the support of President Piñera and the Ministers of Energy and the Interior, approved a highly controversial hydroelectric development project for Patagonia. Named HidroAysén, the project will involve the ten-year construction of five hydroelectric plants by foreign corporations, to bring some 2,600,000 MW of power from dammed Patagonian rivers to the capital in Santiago. May 10 ended with large protests in Coyhaique (in Aysén), Temuco, Santiago, and other cities, criticizing what is widely viewed as a closed approval process among political officials who already had their minds made up, and/or have close links to the energy corporations involved.[iii] Additionally, the project allegedly shirks the government’s U.N.-enforced obligation to consult indigenous communities before carrying out mega development projects.[iv]

Tomás Mosciatti of Radio Bío-Bío summarizes the issue in broad strokes, focusing on the following points (his video spot on CNN Chile is linked above). Chile’s Energy Minister rationalized the approval of HidroAysén by citing an energy emergency, but other steps normally taken in energy emergencies (such as electricity rationing) never occurred. The Chilean Ambassador in Buenos Aires has discussed the sale of Chilean hydroelectric energy to Argentina, meaning that Chile would keep the contamination as the cost of doing business, while sending energy abroad that exceeds the domestic consumption needs. More concretely, as currently planned, 100% of the energy produced by HidroAysén will go to Santiago, through 2,200km of cables and towers, whose construction does not yet have environmental approval. The cables will cross six national parks, eleven reserves, sixteen wetlands, and thirty-two private protected land reserves. The tax system for energy production in Chile is based on the least efficient forms of production, so Chileans will pay the owners of HidroAysén the rate of petroleum-produced energy, while the energy will actually be produced with water. HidroAysén will further diminish competition and augment concentration in Chile’s already monopolistic energy sector: Colbún and ENDESA, two of the three largest energy corporations working in Chile, have combined in HidroAysén, and as a result they will share 80% of Chile’s energy market. Spanish-based ENDESA, for its part, already has 96% of the water rights in Aysén.

[i] Ver “Tensa Jornada terminó con incindentes y apedreos en el centro de Coyhaique,” El Mercurio, 10 mayo 2011.

[ii] Ver “Comunidades Mapuches Huilliches rechazan proceso de consulta que está llevando a cabo el gobierno, denominado "consulta nacional Indígena," Mapuexpress.net, http://mapuexpress.net/?act=news&id=6882.

[iii] See “Tensa Jornada terminó con incindentes y apedreos en el centro de Coyhaique,” El Mercurio, 10 mayo 2011.

[iv] See “Comunidades Mapuches Huilliches rechazan proceso de consulta que está llevando a cabo el gobierno, denominado "consulta nacional Indígena," Mapuexpress.net, http://mapuexpress.net/?act=news&id=6882.

Día por la Tierra, Temuco, 21 abril

2011-05-09T22:02:00.000-07:00

Parte 1

Parte 2

ESPAÑOL

(In English below)

El día 21 de abril, en Temuco se realizaron una multifacética manifestación artística, para apoyar las causas de la protección de los recursos naturales, y de las tierras ancestrales de las poblaciones indígenas.[i] “Temuco por la Tierra” fue la bandera de una red de organizaciones sociales, que llevaron a cabo el evento. En la mañana, un grupo de poetas, bailarines, actores y músicos se juntaron en una plaza al lado de la folklórica Feria Pinto para afinar instrumentos y pintar caras. La Feria, como todos lo dicen, es el lugar tradicional para comprar y vender frutos y verduras, piñones, carne, ropa, y artesanía, o para comprar pasajes de los buses rurales que van a las varias comunidades y lejanas de la región. El lugar de inicio del Día por la Tierra fue una muestra de solidaridad con los campesinos y paisanos que viajan largas distancias en las micros, para vender cilantro, tejidos, o lo que sea, entre ellos o a la gente que viven en la zona urbana. El lugar representa la intersección de ciudad y campo, y el pequeño agricultor es el comerciante principal.

Antü Liwen, Alejandro Stuart, Lorenzo Aillapán, Braulio Soto, Suzana Cofré, Nicolás Michel, Rayen Kvyeh, y varios otros artistas iniciaron la jornada con un pasacalle. Tocaron instrumentos de bronce y de cuerda, al lado de danza con coreografía y traje, pasando por varias cuadras del centro de Temuco, mientras llevaron banderas que pertenecían a las causas del ambientalismo y de los derechos ciudadanos y indígenas. El pasacalle ofreció algo de una mezcla entre el minimalista teatro chileno, una peña de la música folklórica, una manifestación política, y un musical funeral caminando al estilo de New Orleans.

Cuando los artistas y el público llegaron al Gimnasio O’Higgins, entraron, se secaron (hizo lluvia durante el pasacalle, pero el espíritu no se disminuyó), y subieron al escenario. Greenpeace colaboró con el evento, ofreciendo información sobre acciones y oportunidades, y colgando banderas grandes sobre las paredes del Gimnasio. Un grupo llamado la Revolución de la Cuchara alimentaron a todos—incluso el público—con un generoso plato gratis de comida vegetariana, y un agua caliente de canela y manzana, perfecto para un día lluvioso en Temuco.

Braulio Soto inicio las realizaciones en el escenario con una composición personal, un himno a la tierra, y a nuestra conexión biológica y espiritual con ella, siendo nosotros seres humanos: “Porque mi cuerpo es la tierra / Mi agua viene con sangre / Porque mi espíritu es fuego / Porque mi palabra es el aire . . . ” Antü Liwen siguió después del Braulio, bailando, tocando el kultrún, y cantando en Mapudungun, la lingua franca de la gente de la tierra. Después de Antü Liwen, Alejandro Stuart se presentó por decir “Mari mari,” y añadió, “Nosotros no somos guerrilleros, somos defensores de la tierra . . . ” Otros varios artistas entraron en el escenario: Evelyn Cornejo, Los Aparecidos, Daniel Neumann, Nicolás Michel, Fernando Salazar, Suzana Cofré, and Diego Inostroza, Lorenzo Aillapán, y por lo menos una poeta más cuya nombre se me escapa.

Los temáticas de las interpretaciones artísticas contaron con un rango ancho, desde reclamos directos en contra de los abusos del ambiente natural y de los derechos humanos, hasta la alabanza del vegetarianismo, así como una serie de expresiones musicales y poéticas que fueron simplemente hermosas. La mezcla recuerda de los ideales del femenismo de la tercera ola (third wave feminism), así como del poder del arte en vivo para liberar la mente. En cuanto al feminismo, se dice que combatir una forma de opresión implica combatir a las todas formas de ella. Refiriendose a la poderosa unión cultural y espiritual entre la sociedad Mapuche y la tierra, esta noción sí se pertenece al apoyo mutuo entre las manifestaciones pro-ambientales y pro-indígenas en la América Latina, y por supuesto en WallMapu. En cuanto al poder del arte en vivo (y reconociendo el riesgo de reiterar la exaltación ya cansada del arte por el arte), escucha no más a la Antü Liwen (video 2, 4:05), o a la Evelyn Cornejo (video 1, 18:30), y deja que cualquier pensamiento malicioso en la cabeza se evapore con el viento.

INGLÉS

On April 21, Temuco was the site of a multi-form, collaborative, artistic celebration supporting the protection of natural resources and indigenous ancestral lands.[ii] “Temuco por la Tierra” was the banner of the network of social organizations who put on the event. In the morning, a handful of poets, dancers, actors and musicians gathered in a plaza near the folkloric Feria Pinto to tune up instruments and paint faces. The Feria, as everyone calls it, is the traditional spot for buying and selling produce, piñones (the seeds of the pehuen tree), meat, clothing, and artesanía, or for buying tickets on the buses rurales headed for the distant comunidades of the region. The starting point itself for Día por la Tierra comprised a show of solidarity with the campesinos who make long journeys on the micros (buses) to sell cilantro, Mapuche textiles, or any variety of things, to each other and to the people living in the city; it is the meeting point of city and country, and the small agriculturalist is the principal merchant.

Antü Liwen, Alejandro Stuart, Lorenzo Aillapán, Braulio Soto, Suzana Cofré, Nicolás Michel, Rayen Kvyeh, and many more artists began the day with a pasacalle, or street procession. They played brass and stringed instruments, with choreographed and costumed dance, through several blocks of downtown Temuco, waving banners extolling the causes of environmentalism and indigenous rights. The pasacalle offered something of a blend between minimalist Chilean theatre, a folk music peña, a street manifestation, and a parading funeral in New Orleans.

When the artists and the crowd arrived at the Gimnasio O’Higgins (Bulnes & Lautaro), they entered, dried off (it rained on the pasacalle, however spirits remained bright), and took the stage. Greenpeace joined the event, passing out information about actions and volunteer opportunities, and hanging large banners around the Gimnasio. A group called Revolución de la Cuchara (Revolution of the Spoon) fed everyone—including the entire audience—with a bounteous meal of free vegetarian cuisine, including a hot drink of cinnamon and apple, perfect on a rainy day in Temuco.

Braulio Soto began the indoor performances with a personal composition, an anthem to the earth, and to our biological and spiritual connection with it as human beings: “Porque mi cuerpo es la tierra / Mi agua viene con sangre / Porque mi espíritu es fuego / Porque mi palabra es el aire . . . ” (“Because my body is the earth / My water comes with blood / Because my spirit is fire / Because my word is the air . . . ”). Antü Liwen followed Braulio, dancing, playing the kultrún, and singing in Mapudungun, the lingua franca of the people of the earth. Following Antü Liwen, Alejandro Stuart introduced himself with “Mari mari,” the traditional Mapuche greeting, and added, “Nosotros no somos guerrilleros, somos defensores de la tierra . . . ” (“We are not warriors, we are defenders of the land . . . ”) Various other performers graced the stage, including Evelyn Cornejo, Los Aparecidos, Daniel Neumann, Nicolás Michel, Fernando Salazar, Suzana Cofré, and Diego Inostroza, Lorenzo Aillapán, and at least one other peot whose name escapes me.

The themes of the performances ranged widely, from direct pronouncements against environmental and human rights abuses, to calls for vegetarianism, to simply gorgeous expressions of music and poetry. The mix calls to mind the tenets of third wave feminism, as well as the power of live art to liberate the mind. Regarding the former, it holds that combating one form of oppression involves combating all of them. In light of the profound cultural and spiritual attachment of Mapuche society to the land, this notion holds true in the mutual support between pro-environmental and pro-indigenous manifestations in Latin America, and certainly in WallMapu (Araucanía, or the IX Región of Chile). Regarding the latter (and at the risk of reiterating a well-worn exaltation of art for art’s sake), just listen to Antü Liwen (video 2, 4:05) or Evelyn Cornejo (video 1, 18:30), and let any malicious thought in your head vaporize with the wind.

[i] Para unos resumenes de problemas ambientales ahora poniendo en peligro la salud y las comunidades humanas, vea Mapuexpress.net. El 10 de mayo, un proyecto sumamente controversial de hidroeléctrico en Aysén, en el sur, fue aprobado a pesar de la presunta negligencia de la obligación del gobierno (y forzada por la ONU), de consultar con las comunidades indígenas antes de llevar a cabo tales proyectos gigantes de desarrollo.

[ii] For summaries of environmental problems currently endangering health and community in the region, see Mapuexpress.net. On May 10, a highly controversial hydroelectric project in Aysén, in the south, won approval despite alleged neglect of the government’s U.N.-enforced obligation to consult indigenous communities before carrying out such projects.

Grabaciones de largometraje / Full-length field recordings

2011-01-06T14:56:00.000-08:00

ESPAÑOL

Aquí se encuentra dos grabaciones de largometraje, hechas reciente en Temuco. La información al principio de cada grabación ofrece un resumen básico, con el objetivo de compartir grabaciones que más o menos explican su propio contenido. Por supuesto, un párrafo (o un ensayo completo) sería apropiado para cada uno… pero todo con su tiempo. Espero que estas grabaciones provoquen conversaciones con otras personas interesadas en la música de la IX Región, la música folklórica, el hip-hop, u otros asuntos relacionados. (Si no tienes un blog, puedes dirigir comentarios a facebook.)

INGLÉS

Here are two full-length field recordings, made recently in Temuco. The information at the start of each recording offers a basic gist, the point being to share recordings that are more or less self-contained. Of course, a blurb (or a full essay) would be nice for each… but all in due time. I hope these recordings can serve as a medium for others interested in music in the IX Región, folkloric music, rap, or any other related issues. (If you’re not a blogger, feel free to direct comments to facebook.)

Pasaferia en Temuco, 9 septiembre 2010 from Jacob Rekedal on Vimeo.

Rumba Rap, parte 1 from Jacob Rekedal on Vimeo.

Rumba Rap, parte 2 from Jacob Rekedal on Vimeo.

Reflecting on Mining, folkore, Chile and California

2010-10-14T08:38:00.000-07:00

Queridos Chilenos y Californianos (entre otros):

First off, happy birthday to my brother Jon (Oct. 14), and congratulations to the miners. On Wednesday October 13, all 33 miners in the north of Chile were rescued, delivered from the 700-meter depths of the San José mine near Copiapó, after 69 days. Wednesday was a day of rejoicing in Chile, nothing short of historic. As a visitor from California, I’d like to offer some thoughts about a common history, and about miners, heroes and songs (I wouldn’t dare leave out the songs). (Photo: "Surfaced Miner," http://www.cbc.ca/news.)

Reaching back, and north, from Chile to California, folklore, and music:

Industrial mining in the north of Chile has had a huge and varied historical impact. Subsoil resources in the north played a major part in the War of the Pacific, 1879-1884. During that conflict, Chile fought with ammunition made from nitrate mined in it’s own Atacama desert in the north, conquering portions of Perú and Bolivia, and establishing the resource-rich desert and lenghty seacoast as Chilean territory (the rival countries to the north remain bitter). Mining also played an important role in the development of modern organized labor in Chile during the 20^th century, and has been the focus of much left-wing music and theatre devoted to social change over the years. Chilean-American scholar and playwright Ariel Dorfman recently published a piece in The Guardian on this subject.[1] Chile’s copper (among other principle mineral resources) is considered one of the country’s greatest assets, and many have argued that Bachelet’s careful management of copper helped Chile to sustain the blows of the recent global economic crisis.

Mining is also at the heart of a longstanding relationship between Chile and California. The California gold fever of the 1840s and 50s attracted thousands of Chileans, as they knew how to mine. Today, one can visit Chili Gulch in Calaveras County, where many Chileans worked as miners, and fought hard for access to the land.

In the 1850s, a supposed Chilean named Joaquin Murrieta became a folk hero in California. Murrieta earned his status for banditry and horse theft, with a fierce mission of retribution for the rape of his wife and the loss of his mining plots at the hands of racist Californians. (Photo: "Murrieta," http://noblebandits.asu.edu.)

Such events were chronicled simultaneously in literature, the news, and folk tales, generating a legend out of Murrieta. For instance, see Walter Burns’s 1932 novel, The Robin Hood of El Dorado: the saga of Joaquin Murrieta, famous outlaw of California's age of gold. In the song “Joaquin Murrieta,” contemporary North American bard Peter Rowan sings:

In the tender young arms of Carmelita Rosita,

Was the only refuge he knew,

There he would lay like a baby and weep,

For the deeds hatred caused him to do

Murrieta appears in songs both North and South American. I owe my first encounter with Murrieta to a Peter Rowan performance in San Diego, at which point I didn’t learn about the Chilean connection (Rowan’s song considers him either Mexican or Californian). Upon beginning to study guitar in Chile, I learned from musician Leo Matus that many Chileans consider Murrieta one of their own. Victor Jara and the group Cuncumen (with lyrics by Pablo Neruda) are among Chilean performers who have dealt with Murrieta. The late, great Tejana singer Lydia Mendoza also sang of him. Cuncumen/Neruda’s version includes the lyrics:

Galopa con poncho rojo,

En su caballo con alas,

Aquí donde por el ojo,

Y miran por de la bala

Y ¿cómo se llama este hombre?

Jaquin Murrieta es su nombre

(inglés)

He gallops with a red poncho,

On a winged horse,

Here are his eyes,

Looking into the barrel of a gun

And what is this man’s name?

Joaquin Murrieta is his name

Here are some songs, to remind us of a common folk heritage between California and Chile, all beginning with mining. In closing, after this week’s rescue at the San José mine, we have another 33 heroes in the history of Chilean mining. Let’s see if any musicians out there endeavor to sing them into the folk canon as well.

Lydia Mendoza, “El Corrido de Joaquin Murrieta”

Victor Jara, “Cueca de Joaquin Murrieta”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYFem1Ob1PY&feature=related

Peter Rowan, “Joaquin Murrieta”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SC-bn9zjxMk

Cuncumen, “A Joaquin Murrieta”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVfAFABoclk&feature=related

[1] Read Dorfman’s piece entitled “The lessons of Chile's past helped keep miners alive,” at http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/oct/13/chile-miners-rescue-ariel-dorfman.

Introducción a los Contextos Políticos y Culturales del Hip-Hop Mapuche, y el Propósito de la Documentación Etnográfica / Introduction to the Cultural and Political Contexts of Mapuche Hip-Hop

2010-09-14T21:04:00.000-07:00

(in English, below)

Este ensayo argumenta en favor de documentar y entender mejor la música rap y la cultura del hip-hop en el sur de Chile.[1] Para comprender el campo cultural general de Chile es fundamental examinar las emergentes formas de producción cultural. En este sentido, el contenido de la música rap en la Araucanía ofrece una rica variedad de expresiones y sentimientos. Así, el analisis etnográfico de las condiciones de producción y recepción de una música asociada con la migración rural-urbano, y con un continuo cambio de la cultura indígena, ofrece una potencial visión única a los retos socio-economicos que enfrentan las generaciones jovenes de Mapuche en la IX Región. Finalmente, en los sentidos artisticos e historicos, el rap Mapuche potencialmente se vincula a la transmisión oral de la lengua Mapuche, y a otras formas más antiguas de arte y cultura.

Multiples discursos afirman la necesidad de documentar y analizar el incremento de fuerza y popularidad del rap y hip-hop globalmente, y del rap Mapuche en específico en el sur de Chile. En la introducción al volumen editado, en el 2001, sobre perspectivas geo-culturales y comparativas sobre rap y hip-hop en el siglo XXI, Tony Mitchell escribe sobre la falta de documentación y analisis adecuados a la música rap en el mundo:

Modelos e idiomas deriban del periodo crucial del hip-hop en los Estados Unidos durante 1980 y han sido combinados en [varios] paises con idiomas musicales locales y vernaculares para producir distintas manifestaciones de sincretismo [con] elementos indigenas locales. Pero estos desarrollos estranjeros han sido raramente, si es que han sido, reconocidos entre el comentario académico sobre el hip-hop . . . (2001: 3)

En una entrevista en el 2006, el rapero, poeta y antropólogo Danko Mariman comentó sobre el rap indígena en la Araucanía:

Cuando hablamos de “mapuchizar” el hip-hop y la poesía, nos referimos a incorporarlos como elementos a nuestra cultura. A través de estas expresiones artisticas nosotros traemos a luz nuestras luchas personales y colectivas . . . Nuestra cultura no está congelada en libros, al contrario, está viva en los Mapuche que estamos vivos hoy . . . Tal y como nos envolvemos en relaciones culturales, con otras comunidades humanas, adquirimos nuevas herramientas que incorporamos sin perder nuestra identidad como Mapuche. (Estrada 2006)

Respondiendo, de alguna forma, al llamado de comprender la significancia del rap en el mundo, las palabras del artista Mariman indican que la cultura Mapuche, como cualquier otra cultura, crece, cambia, se mueve y ofrece diferentes formas de expresión con cada generación. Más aun, esta tiene el derecho de hacerlo.[2] Esta plasticidad cultural requiere documentación para valorizar las formas de expression y permitir a la amplia sociedad reconocer sus variadas subculturas.

Documentar y analizar el rap y hip-hop Mapuche presenta unos retos inmediatos. Primeramente, en la representación pública relacionada a la cuestión Mapuche, existe una tendencia a estigmatizar sentimientos publicos en favor de las demandas Mapuche (particularmente por voces menos escuchadas). La música rap como improvisación del verso intelectual sirve, de hecho, para revisar el registro histórico y manifestar posiciones y sentimientos politicos. Sin embargo, como forma artística y verbal, no es uniformemente radical, y por eso merece documentación y análisis. Un catastro básico del contenido en la obra de grupos de rap Mapuche como Wenu Mapu, Wechekeche ñi Trawün (de Santiago) y Weichafe Newen, además de individuos como el Gran Massay, revelan una variedad. En momentos estos artistas hacen abogacia por la recuperación territorial, por la valorización de su cultura en un sentido histórico, o por la colaboración colectiva hacia un futuro mejor.

La pluralidad de prerogativas en el rap (Mapuche u otro) hacen borrosas las fronteras entre el radicalismo y la construcción comunitaria. Rap y la cultura del hip-hop han funcionado así desde sus inicios en el Bronx (Ciudad de Nueva York) durante los 1970 y 80, como trabajo creativo entre las marginalizadas juventudes negras. En lo más altruisto, el rap da voz a los que menos la tienen y libera a los oprimidos a través de la presentación artistica; en lo más antisocial, el rap ofrece una voz a la delincuencia y glorifica la violencia y misoginia (Rose 1994: 1-2).

En el siglo XXI, y particularmente desde el consenso internacional para el reconocimeinto y apoyo a las culturas indigenas (considerar la ONU y el Convenio 169 de la OIT), los raperos de comunidades indigenas de Latino y Norte América han utilizado la forma artística para atraer atención a los conflictos por derechos e igualdad. Sin embargo, falta un estudio sistemático del rap indígena en la mayoría de las regiones de América. Mientras se aproxima la segunda década del nuevo siglo, un detallado documental sobre el rap Mapuche podría servir como herramienta para el intercambio cultural en la sociedad chilena. Lo cual no significa que un estudio del rap Mapuche revele formas pacificas de vida y de contenido. Sin embargo, una investigación así podría mostrar las diversas realidades micro-sociales y la heterogeneidad de la vida y las prerogativas que informen de una crecida practica artística.

Además, el rap Mapuche potencialmente ilumina enlaces a áreas tradicionales de transmisión de cultura oral, y a sentidos de identidad cultural y resistencia basados en lenguaje y expresión. Reflexionando sobre la pérdida cultural basada en el deterioro del Mapuzugun, comentó el Lonco Pascual Coña (originalmente en Mapuzugun):

En nuestros días la vida ha cambiado; la generación nueva se ha chilenizado mucho; poco a poco ha ido olvidándose del designio y de la índole de nuestra raza; que pasen unos cuantos años y casi ni sabrán y hablarán su lengua nativa. Entonces, ¡que lean algunas veces siquiera este libro! He dicho. (2006 [1930])[3]

En cuanto al propósito de este ensayo, las palabras de Pascual Coña sirven para destacar dos aspectos importantes de la lengua y cultura Mapuche: Primero, en un sentido tradicional, el Mapuzugun es transmitido oralmente. Como tal está basado en diferentes construcciones de conocimiento y comunicación que el Castellano Chileno, y está en peligro por el dominio del Castellano, y de la producción y transmisión de conocimiento de manera occidental. Segundo, la cultura y la lengua Mapuche pertenecen a procesos de auto-identificación basados en la diferencia y la resistencia ante la mayoría de hispanohablantes de la sociedad chilena. Al examinar su relación con el Mapuzugun y con otros aspectos de la transmisión oral de la cultura Mapuche, una investigación detallada del rap Mapuche podría alumbrar las bases de las nociones contemporaneas de diferencia y resistencia Mapuche.

Los poetas Mapuche, y aquellos que han estudiado su trabajo intensamente, han avanzado en estos temas, generando un entendimiento de la poesía como mediador entre la oralidad Mapuche y la lengua occidental. En esta frontera cultural-lingüística, el potencial para el crecimiento político y cultural, además de la resistencia, son considerables (a ver, García Barrera 2004: 14-15; Rojas 2009).

El rap Mapuche en Temuco consiste de prácticas musicales y poeticas con similares preocupaciones interculturales entre los artistas. Unos raperos han expresado su inclinación por escribir y utilizar el Mapuzugun, sugiriendo un motivo e una inclinación de revitalización lingüística en su música (Estrada 2006; M.M.L. 2009). Aún así, diferentes perspectivas basadas en distintas situaciones de vida y diferencias generacionales, parecen separar al rap Mapuche de la poesía Mapuche más en general. Tipicamente (aunque no siempre), el rap Mapuche emerge en las zonas urbanas de Padre Las Casas y Temuco, y trata de las luchas que acompañan la pobreza y la migración de una generación más joven. La documentación sobre el rap Mapuche debiera mostrar un enlace entre la música, el Mapuzugun, y aspectos de transmisión de la cultura oral, para generar comprensión del valor cultural y lingüístico del rap en este contexto.

En conclusión, estudiar las formas de música que tratan de cambios culturales, como aquellos estilos aprendidos de otras partes del mundo y adaptadas a situaciones locales, sirve para mejorar el comprendimiento intercultural entre la sociedad en general. Mientras Chile se aproxima a su bicentenario, es imperativo documentar y analizar los cambios internos de su paisaje cultural. La situación Mapuche sigue atrayendo atención como polémico nacional, marcado por una larga historia de violencia y desacuerdo. Sin lugar a duda, la reputación multicolor del rap expone esta forma de música al estigma de radicalismo. Por el otro lado, fundamental para la comprensión intercultural, hay que reconocer que la cultura Mapuche (o cualquier cultura) es dinámica y plural, a la vez rural y urbana, y marcada por multiples propuestas para el mejoramiento politíco y social. (see Ansion, et al. 2007: 5).[4] Entre los “elementos indigenas” del sur de Chile (siguiendo la cita de Mitchell al principio de este ensayo) que se combinan con estilos y sensibilidades del rap estadounidense, los raperos Mapuche traen a su arte verbal las políticas contestatarias con las que viven y luchan. Sin apoyar ni rechazar ninguna posición ni prerogativa política, la documentación etnográfica intenta enriquecer el intercambio de conocimiento e ideas entre jovenes raperos Mapuche y la sociedad que los rodea.

Bibliografía

Ansion, Juan, et al. Educar en ciudadanía intercultural. Temuco: Universidad de la Frontera, 2007.

Coña, Pascual. Lonca Pascual Coña ñi tuculpazugun. Testimonio de un Cacique Mapuche. Santiago: Pehuén Ediores, 2006 [1930]).

Estrada, Daniela. “Mapuche hip-hop.” Inter Press Service News Agency. Octubre 24, 2006. http://ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=35211 [April 13, 2010]

García Barrera, Mabel, ed. Crítica situada: el estado actual del arte y la poesía Mapuche. Rakizuam. Pu mapuce tañi kimvn ka tañi vl zugu fahtepu. Temuco: Universidad de la Frontera, 2004.

M.M.L. “Hip-hop mapuche viene a quitar la mufa del Galpón.” La nación. 30 julio 2009. http://www.lanacion.cl/prontus_noticias_v2/site/artic/20090729/pags/20090729233814.html [April 13, 2010]

Meneses, Magaly, dir. Wichan—El Juicio. DVD. n.p.: Wein Producciones, 1995.

Mitchell, Tony, ed. Global noise: rap and hip-hop outside the USA. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 2001.

Rojas, Rodrigo. La lengua escorada: la traducción como estratefia de resistencia en cuatro poetas mapuche. Santiago: Pehuén Editores, 2009.

Rose, Tricia. Black noise: rap music and black culture in contemporary America. Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press, 1994.

[1] El término música rRap se refiere, especificamente, a expresiones musicales y verbales. La cultura del hHip-hHop se refiere mas ampliamente al espectro visual, vestimenta y discurso diario asociado con la música rRap.

[2] Habiendo ratificado la declaración de las Naciones Unidas Sobre Temas Indigenas y el Convenio 169 de la OIT en el 2008, Chile otorga ~~garantias~~ garantías legales, culturales y politicas a las comunidades indigenas, además de libertad de discriminación al nivel de los estandares internacionales. En un sentido ~~antropologico~~antropológico, este criterio debiera alcanzar reconocimiento de los cambios culturales y sociales, que necesariamente producen nuevas formas de expresión e identificación cultural.

[3] Este pasaje inicial del testimonio del Lonco Pascual Coña también ~~esta~~ está citado al final de su l film de recreación ~~historica~~ histórica llamado Wichan-El Juicio (1995).

[4] ~~Estoy dibujando aqui sobre e~~Refiero aquí al volumen llamado Educar en ciudadanía intercultural (2007), el cual es utilizado como guia teorica por el Proyecto Rüpü (Programa de Apoyo Académico para Estudiantes Mapuche) de la Universidad de la Frontera en Temuco.

IN ENGLISH

This essay makes the case for documenting and better understanding Mapuche rap music and hip-hop culture in southern Chile.[1] Ethnographic researchers Danko Mariman, Isabel Cañet and I have just finished a state funding proposal to assemble a documentary film on this topic during 2011. Here I summarize our argument about the need for such documentary material, in cultural and political terms. Foremost, understanding Chile’s cultural landscape requires the examination of specific emerging forms of cultural production, and the content of rap music in Araukanía today offers a rich variety of expressions and sentiments. Furthermore, ethnographic analysis of the conditions of production and reception of music associated with rural-urban migration, and with a continually changing indigenous culture, offers a unique glance at the socioeconomic challenges facing a young Mapuche generation in the IX Región. Finally, in both an artistic and an historical sense, Mapuche rap also bears potentially fascinating connections to orally transmitted language and other oral Mapuche art forms, rendering rap music a contemporary manifestation of longstanding expressive traditions.

These research premises are backgrounded by the need to increase understanding of the so called cuestión Mapuche in Chile. Currently, the Mapuche situation complicates the grander narrative of Chile's success as a representative democracy and a regional economic power. The Concertación, Chile's center-left governing coalition between 1990 and 2010, pertained to what John Beverly has characterized as the neoconservative/neoliberal Latin American Left.[2] Despite orientation towards democratic and human rights reforms, and the local ratification (albeit delayed) of U.N. Convention 169, Chile's government and legal system has regularly failed to intervene when land disputes simultaneously threaten the environment and indigenous communities.

Danko Mariman’s 2009 documentary entitled En el nombre del progreso, accompanied by Wenu Mapu’s rap composition of the same title, details the following examples of such disputes under the watch of the Concertación: 1) the 1991 installation of a garbage dump in Boyeko; 2) the government’s legal and military backing since 1996 of the Celulosa Arauco y Constitución (CELCO) project for dumping contaminants in the ocean at Mewin; 3) the division of the Mapuche communities Likanko and Rofuwe for the construction of the Ruta Longitudinal Sur highway in 2004-5; 4) and the current threatening of waterways and agricultural assets in the communities Kepe and Pelal, by the impending construction of an airport.

Mapuche rap and hip-hop in local and global perspectives

The increasing force and popularity of rap and hip-hop globally, and of Mapuche rap specifically, indicate the need to document and analyze this phenomenon locally in southern Chile. Multiple discourses affirm this necessity. In the introduction to his 2001 edited volume about comparative geo-cultural perspectives on rap and hip-hop at the turn of the 21^st century, Tony Mitchell notes the lack of adequate documentation and analysis of rap music around the world:

Models and idioms derived from the peak period of hip-hop in the USA in the mid-to late 1980s have been combined in [various] countries with local musical idioms and vernaculars to produce excitingly distinctive syncretic manifestations [with] local indigenous elements. But these foreign developments have rarely, if ever, been acknowledged in the growing body of academic commentary on hip-hop . . . (2001: 3)

In a 2006 interview, rapper, poet and anthropologist Danko Mariman commented about indigenous rap in Araukanía:

When we talk about “Mapuchifying” hip-hop and poetry, we mean incorporating them into our culture. Through both these art forms we bring to light our personal and collective struggles . . . [O]ur culture isn't immobilised or fixed in books, quite the contrary, it's alive in those of us who are alive today . . . As we engage in cultural contact with other human communities, we acquire new tools that we can incorporate without losing our Mapuche identity. (Estrada 2006)

Responding, in a way, to Mitchell’s call for signals of rap’s significance around the world, Mariman’s words indicate that Mapuche culture, like any culture, grows, changes, moves, and offers different forms of expression with each generation. Moreover, it has the right to do so.[3] This plasticity of culture necessitates documentation, to valorize forms of expression, and to enable society more broadly to embrace its various subcultures.

Documenting and analyzing Mapuche rap and hip-hop presents several immediate challenges. Foremost, the conflicted politics of the cuestión Mapuche tend to stigmatize publicly stated political sentiments, or revisions of the historical record (particularly by non-mainstream voices), which favor Mapuche demands. Rap music, as improvised, intellectual verse, indeed serves the functions of revising the historical record and stating political positions and sentiments. However, as a verbal art form it is not uniformly radical, and thus merits close documentation and analysis. A basic survey of lyrics by Mapuche rap groups such as Wenu Mapu, Wechekeche ñi Trawün (of Santiago), and Weichafe Newen, or by individual artists such as Gran Massay, reveals a variety of content. At turns artists advocate for the recuperation of land, the valorization of their culture in the historical record, or collaboration toward a more positive future.

With the Cross, the Bible and the sword,

the lands become usurped,

out of deception, and from assassination,

and the women and children taken from communities,

are forced to live on reservations.

-“Usurpación,” Wenu Mapu / Kolectivo We Newen[4]

Life of an Araukano, a concept designed to inspire . . .

We should incorporate Mapuzungun into our education,

Generating a bilingual education,

This will enable us to conserve our language,

This is the first step toward a new life for the younger generation,

Respect, tolerance, equality (a better future),

This is not only for the Mapuche,

But also for our Chilean brothers,

Those who live in Mapuche territory,

That is, the Araukanian Chileans,

This, in our generation of Mapuches and Araukanos,

To change how we live,

To live better, to live intelligently,

And to change for a better future.

-“Mari mari,” Gran Massay

As Tricia Rose points out, the plurality of political prerogatives in rap (Mapuche or otherwise) often blurs the lines between radicalism and community building. Rap and hip-hop culture have functioned in this way since their inception in the Bronx (New York City) during the 1970s and 80s, as creative work among marginalized, black youth. At its most altruistic, rap gives voice to the underserved, and liberates the oppressed through performance; at its most antisocial, rap offers a voice to delinquency and glorifies violence and misogyny (Rose 1994: 1-2).

In the 21^st century, and particularly since international consensus concerning recognition and support of indigenous cultures (consider UN/OIT Conv. 169), rappers from among Latin and North American indigenous communities have made poignant use of their art form to draw attention to ongoing struggles for rights and equality. Yet, systematic study of indigenous rap in most regions of the Americas still lacks. As the second decade of the new century approaches, a detailed, documentary study of Mapuche rap could potentially serve Chilean society with an important tool for intercultural understanding. This is not to suggest that an ethnographic study of Mapuche rap would reveal uniformly peaceful content and lifeways. Rather, such an investigation would likely demonstrate diverse micro-social realities, and the heterogeneity of life circumstances and political prerogatives informing a burgeoning artistic practice.

Mapuche rap also potentially illuminates links to more traditional areas of orally transmitted culture, and to notions of cultural identity and resistance based on language and expression. Reflecting sentiments of cultural loss based on the deterioration of the Mapudungun language, Lonco Pascual Coña famously commented (originally in Mapudungun):

Entonces, ¡que lean algunas veces siquiera este libro!

He dicho. (2006 [1930])[5]

For the purposes of this writing, these words of Pascual Coña highlight two important aspects of Mapuche language and culture: First, in a traditional sense, Mapudungun is transmitted orally. As such, the language is based on different constructs of knowledge and communication than Chilean castellano, and is imperiled by the predominance of castellano and western forms of knowledge production and transmission. Second, Mapuche culture and language involve processes of self-identification on the basis of difference, and resistance, before the Spanish-speaking majority of Chilean society (and prior, before Spanish colonial society). By examining its relationship with Mapudungun, and with other orally transmitted aspects of Mapuche culture, a detailed investigation of Mapuche rap stands to shed light on the roots of contemporary Mapuche notions of difference and resistance.

Mapuche poets, and those who study their work intensively, have already advanced these issues in their discussions, fostering an understanding of poetry as a mediator between Mapuche orality and occidental language. On this border, the potential for political and cultural growth, and resistance, is considerable (see García Barrera 2004: 14-15; Rojas 2009).

Mapuche rap in Temuco consists of musical and poetic practices among artists with a similar set of intercultural concerns. A number of rappers have expressed their inclination to write and perform in Mapudungun, suggesting a motive of linguistic and cultural revitalization in the music (Estrada 2006; M.M.L. 2009). Nonetheless, different perspectives, based on living situations and generational differences, potentially separate Mapuche rap from Mapuche poetry in more general terms. Mapuche rap typically (though not always) emerges from the urban areas of Padre las Casas and Temuco, and speaks more specifically to the struggles associated with migration and poverty for a younger generation. Documentation of Mapuche rap ought to flesh out the link between the music, Mapudungun, and orally transmitted aspects of Mapuche culture, to generate understanding of the cultural and linguistic value of rap music in this context.

In conclusion, studying the forms of music which address cultural change, such as popular musics learned from other parts of the world and adapted to local situations, fosters intercultural understanding within the broader society. As Chile approaches its bicentennial, it is imperative to document and analyze its shifting, internal cultural landscape. The Mapuche situation continues to attract attention as a national polemic, marked by a long history of violence and misunderstanding, and undoubtedly rap music’s variegated reputation exposes it to the potential stigma of political radicalism. On the other hand, the acknowledgement that Mapuche (or any) culture is dynamic and plural, both rural and urban, and characterized by multiple proposals for political and social advancement, is fundamental to the development of intercultural understanding (see Ansion, et al. 2007: 5).[6] Among the southern Chilean “indigenous elements” (following Mitchell’s quotation at the beginning of this essay) which combine with rap styles and sensibilities originally based in the United States, Mapuche rappers bring to their verbal art the contested politics with which they live and struggle. Without either directly supporting or rejecting any particular political position, ethnographic documentation stands to enrich the exchange of knowledge and ideas between young Mapuche rap artists and their surrounding society.

Bibliography

Ansion, Juan, et al. Educar en ciudadanía intercultural. Temuco: Universidad de la Frontera, 2007.

Coña, Pascual. Lonca Pascual Coña ñi tuculpazugun. Testimonio de un Cacique Mapuche. Santiago: Pehuén Ediores, 2006 [1930]).

Estrada, Daniela. “Mapuche Hip-Hop.” Inter Press Service News Agency. October 24, 2006. http://ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=35211 [April 13, 2010]

García Barrera, Mabel, ed. Crítica situada: el estado actual del arte y la poesía Mapuche. Rakizuam. Pu mapuce tañi kimvn ka tañi vl zugu fahtepu. Temuco: Universidad de la Frontera, 2004.

M.M.L. “Hip-hop mapuche viene a quitar la mufa del Galpón.” La nación. 30 julio 2009. http://www.lanacion.cl/prontus_noticias_v2/site/artic/20090729/pags/20090729233814.html [April 13, 2010]

Mitchell, Tony, ed. Global noise: rap and hip-hop outside the USA. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 2001.

Rojas, Rodrigo. La lengua escorada: la traducción como estratefia de resistencia en cuatro poetas mapuche. Santiago: Pehuén Editores, 2009.

Rose, Tricia. Black noise: rap music and black culture in contemporary America. Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press, 1994.

Discography

Gran Massay. Ayudando a fortalecer una fuerte identidad regional en territorio Mapuche. Kolectivo We Newen. 2006.

Kolectivo We Newen. “Usurpación.” http://www.nodo50.org/kolectivowenewen [November 26, 2008]

Videography

Mariman, Danko, dir. En el nombre del progreso. DVD. n.p. Pelon Producciones, con Kolectivo We Newen, 2010.

Meneses, Magaly, dir. Wichan—El Juicio. DVD. n.p.: Wein Producciones, 1995.

[1] The term rap music refers specifically to musical and verbal expression and performance. Hip-hop culture refers more broadly to a spectrum of visual art, dress, and every-day speech, which are culturally associated with rap music.

[2] Beverly gave a lecture focused on this issue at UC Riverside on March 13, 2008, entitled “Rethinking the Armed Struggle in Latin America.”

[3] Having ratified United Nations / International Labor Organization Convention 169 (regarding the rights of indigenous peoples) in 2008, Chile legally grants its indigenous communities cultural and political rights, and freedom from discrimination, at the level of international standards. In an anthropological sense, these criteria should also entail recognition of changing cultural and social circumstances, which necessarily produce new forms of expression and cultural identification.

[4] Author’s translations from Spanish into English.

[5] This opening passage to Lonco Pascual Coña’s testimony is also quoted at the end of the historical reenactment film entitled Wichan—El Juicio (1995).

[6] Namely, I am drawing here on the volume entitled Educar en ciudadanía intercultural (2007), employed as a theoretical guide book by Proyecto Rüpü (Programa de Apoyo Académico para Estudiantes Mapuche) at the Universidad de la Frontera in Temuco.

Haikus by Marylouise Beck, inspired by Vivaldi

2010-08-30T09:21:00.000-07:00

THE FOUR SEASONS – HAIKUS

The bees are buzzing,

Wind chimes singing with the wind,

Flowers blooming, Spring.

The glowing skies blush,

Blinding is the golden sun,

Clear blue days, Summer.

Falling golden leaves,

Are dancing with the cool breeze,

Trees stark and bare, Fall

Cold bitter morning,

Angels on carpet of white,

Snowball fight! Winter.

(Saturday, 28 August, Riveside, California)

Más música, con Leo Matus, Javier Fuentes y Jacob Rekedal

2010-08-30T08:19:00.001-07:00

Muestra de Música, con Leo Matus, Marcelo Brevis y Jacob Rekedal

2010-08-06T10:25:00.000-07:00

(descripciones abajo)

(in English, below)

Después de unos meses de estudio de guitarra y la canción chilena, latinoamericana, folklórica y la nueva canción, aquí presento una “muestra de música.” Debo gracias a mi profesor de guitarra, Leo Matus, y a Marcelo Brevis, un músico invitado y de alta habilidad, así como a un pequeño equipo de amigos y familiares para apoyo técnico; aparecen sus nombres al principio del video.

Partimos con la música de J.S. Bach, “Menuett, aus dem Notenbuch für Anna Magdalena Bach,” que se escucha al fondo del discurso de Leo. Lo que nos ofrece Bach en este instante consiste de una base harmónica y melódica de la música folklórica chilena y latinoamericana, lo que demuestra Leo brevemente en relación a la cueca chilena. Además, como la matemática ofrece una especie de ejercicio mental que sirve en la práctica de otras disciplinas, la música barroca y clásica (incluso la obra de Bach) ofrece ejercicios musicales que apoyan el aprendizaje de otros estilos y tradiciones musicales. (No se ve un video de nosotros tocando el tema de Bach, pero sí se lo escucha.)

Después se ve y se escucha una muestra, o en otro sentido un “examen” musical, a través de la primera vuelta de 4-5 meses (simestre, tal vez) de clases de guitarra entre Leo y mí. Unos temas, como “Historia de la Silla” (Silvio Rodriguez), y “Te Recuerdo Amanda” (Victor Jara), yo toco solo. “Pequeña Serenata Diurna” (Silvio Rodriguez), “El Aparecido” (Victor Jara), “La Exiliada del Sur” (Violeta Parra), “Ni Chicha ni Limona” (Victor Jara) y “Mocito que vas Remando” (Rolando Alarcón) tocamos entre los dos o tres (incluso Marcelo Brevis en unos temas). “La Viquina” (folklore mexicana) y “Chogui” (folklore Uruguayo) nos regalan Leo y Marcelo en forma de dueto instrumental.

Leo Matus y Marcelo Brevis ambos son músicos profesionales en Temuco, Chile. Entienden los contextos políticos, sociales y culturales de esta música, de una manera personal. Leo trabaja diaramente con músicos que tocan y venden discos en lugares públicos de esta ciudad sureña, incluso de esquinas, peñas, conciertos, y manifestaciones públicas. Él mantiene un repertorio ancho en su propia música, incluso de la canción y el folklore chileno, la nueva canción latinoamericana, el folklore venezolano y uruguayo, hasta la samba, el choro, y la música clásica y barroca. Leo ha trabajado con bastante fuerza en los meses recientes para iniciar el Sindicato Independiente de Músicos Interurbanos de Temuko, lo que apoya la obra y el arte de los músicos en esta región.

Marcelo es músico bien visible, que ha tocado en peñas y lugares públicos en la región de Temuco, así como Pucón (donde yo por primera vez ecuché a estos dos en vivo, durante el febrero 2010), y las zonas centrales y nortes de Chile. Es padre de una familia grande en Temuco.

Yo por mi parte estoy agradecido haber participado con estos dos músicos, así como con nuestro equipo tecnico, para llevar a cabo esta muestra. ¡Gracias por leer, ver y escuchar!

Music Demonstration, with Leo Matus, Marcelo Brevis

and Jacob Rekedal

After several months of studying guitar and canción chilena, folklórica and nueva canción, here I present a muestra de música (music demonstration). I owe thanks to my guitar teacher, Leo Matus, and to Marcelo Brevis, an invited musician of great skill, as well as to a small team of friends and relatives for technical support; their names appear at the start of the video.

We begin with the music of J.S. Bach, “Menuett, aus dem Notenbuch für Anna Magdalena Bach,” which you hear underneath Leo’s discussion of the music. In this case, Bach offers us a base of harmony and melody for Chilean and Latin American folkloric music, which Leo demonstrates briefly in relation to the cueca chilena. What’s more, just as mathematics offers a set of mental exercises which support practices in other disciplines, baroque music and classical music support the learning of other musical styles and traditions. (We don’t have video footage here of us playing the piece by Bach, but you can hear it.)

Next you see and hear a demonstration (muestra), or in other words a musical “exam,” following the first round of 4-5 months (a semester, more or less) of guitar classes between Leo and me. I play solo on “Historia de la Silla” (Silvio Rodriguez), and “Te Recuerdo Amanda” (Victor Jara). On “Pequeña Serenata Diurna” (Silvio Rodriguez), “El Aparecido” (Victor Jara), “La Exiliada del Sur” (Violeta Parra), “Ni Chicha ni Limona” (Victor Jara) and “Mocito que vas Remando” (Rolando Alarcón), we play together among the two or three of us (including Marcelo Brevis on a few pieces). Performances of “La Viquina” (folklore mexicana) and “Chogui” (folklore uruguayo) are gifts from Leo and Marcelo, in a duet setting.

Leo Matus and Marcelo Brevis are both professional musicians in Temuco, Chile. They understand the political, social and cultural contexts of this music in a personal way. Leo works daily with musicians who play and sell music in public places around this southern Chilean city, including street corners and plazas, peñas, concerts, and public demonstrations and celebrations. He maintains a wide repertoire in his own music, including canción y folklore chileno, nueva canción, folklore venezolano and uruguayo, samba and choro from Brazil, and baroque and classical music. Leo has worked hard during recent months to initiate the Sindicato Independiente de Músicos Interurbanos de Temuko, which supports the work and the art of musicians in this region.

Marcelo is a fairly visible musician, and has played throughout the region of Temuco, as well as Pucón (where I first heard these two musicians play live in February 2010), as well as the central and northern regions of Chile. He is the father of a large family.

For my part, I am thankful to have participated with these two musicians, and with our technical crew, to bring to fruition this muestra. ¡Thanks for reading, watching and listening!

La Bandera y el Fútbol, en las calles de Temuco… ¡Chile clasifica!... contra Brazil el 28 de junio

2010-06-27T22:19:00.000-07:00

It's not quite as elegant as samba, but they're hitting those bombos hard!

(fotos gracias a Liliana Pérez)

“All About You,” Performed at a Wedding in New York State

2010-06-02T16:32:00.000-07:00

This has nothing in particular to do with my research. Rather, it happened on a break during May, when I returned to the US for two weddings. One wedding was that of my cousin Ben and his lovely (now wife) Jessica. Jess asked my cousins Evan and Sarah Kuras, and me, to play “All About You” during the reception. She heard a recording of Alex Finazzo and me playing the piece several years ago, and thought it would be a nice interlude for her and Ben. I think it went great; take my word for it, or watch the reaction of the little girl in front of us!

Gran Peña Solidaria, Temuco

2010-04-30T13:38:00.000-07:00

El jueves, 22 abril 2010, lanzó el primer “Gran Peña Solidaria,” del Sindicato Independiente de Músicos Interurbanos de Temuko, en el Bar Encuentro de Temuco. A la invitación de un integrante, yo asistí para sacar fotos y videos. Más en el futuro, vamos a preparar un pequeño DVD del evento; por el momento, aquí se ve unos pedacitos del montaje.

Lo siento por faltar información sobre quien aquí está tocando—más será disponible después de editar los documentos de video.

Al fondo, se ve las caras de las grandes figuras en la canción chilena.

Chilean Earthquake Aid

2010-03-02T09:28:00.000-08:00

Chile suffered an 8.8 earthquake on Saturday, February 27 at 3:35 am. The epicenter was just off the coast of Concepción, 300 km north of here, 35 km under the earth’s surface. Buildings and walls fell in Temuco, and points south, as well as up in Santiago, almost 700 km north of here. This radius seems incredible, although I’m no geologist.

Life in Temuco hasn’t been too badly disrupted. I was without water and electricity for a couple of days, but stayed with friends and had no serious issues personally. However, up in Concepción and on the coast, conditions are absolutely grave: martial law, lack of resources and shelter, and minimal flow of information.

Cruz Roja (Red Cross), Techo para Chile (A Roof for Chile), and other organizations are channeling aid very well, however there is a great deal of suffering. TO HELP—SEE LINKS BELOW.

UPDATE ON SURVIVORS, March 5:

-En Constitución apareció IVAN LARA DE 8 AÑOS QUE ESTÁ SOLO en esa ciudad...busca parientes en todo Chile favor de copiar y pega...

-En Constitución apareció CRISTIAN BEAS LOPEZ DE 16 AÑOS. Es enfermito ESTA SOLO en esa ciudad... busca parientes de todo chile. Has el favor de copiar y pegar!... hazlo no te cuesta nada 

Contact: Maria Rivera C., F/ 56 - 2 - 374 5116

Additional analysis, Council on Hemispheric Affairs:

“Chile’s Re-opened Human Rights Investigations and Piñera’s Balancing Act.”

(Earthquake jars Santiago, preceding a turnover in government and anticipating a paradigm shift in the nation’s values.)

http://www.coha.org/chile’s-re-opened-human-rights-investigations-and-pinera’s-balancing-act/

Naomi Klein, “Chile's Socialist Rebar.”

(Which economic ideology deserves credit for Chile’s building codes? Klein’s answer is not surprising, but well argued nonetheless.)

http://www.naomiklein.org/articles/2010/03/chiles-socialist-rebar

BBC footage from Talcahuano, on the coast near Concepción:

Earlier BBC footage from the coast:

Links for people interested in helping out:

http://www.google.com/intl/es/relief/chileearthquake/

http://ko-kr.facebook.com/group.php?gid=337311026167&ref=mf

http://noticias.prodigy.msn.com/internacional/articulo.aspx?cp-documentid=23556259

http://chileayuda.com/

http://www.untechoparachile.cl/

“Terremoto en Chile: ¿Cómo ayudar al pueblo mapuche?” (Mapuchenoticias.com)

http://www.mapuchenoticias.com/2010/03/terremoto-en-chile-como-ayudar-al.html

http://www.cooperativa.cl/
(Radio Cooperativa de Chile—información)

Specifically for Donations

-Cruz Roja: N° cuenta corriente: 362883 Banco Estado a nombre de: Cruz Roja Chilena

-Caritas Chile: N° cuenta corriente: 0-082-18-00080-1 Banco Santander RUT: 70.020.800-1

-Exterior: Las donaciones serán canalizadas por Unicef y por Direct Relief International. Se puede donar en el siguientes sitio:

www.google.com/intl/es/relief/chileearthquake/

(español)

http://www.google.com/intl/es/relief/chileearthquake/

-U.S.A: Donaciones por mensaje de texto. Por favor difundir! Enviar un SMS con texto “CHILE” al 20222 o al 25383 para donar US 10 a Habitat for Humanity o a World Vision.

Tejer la Música y la Textilería / Weaving together Textiles and Music

2010-02-22T04:06:00.001-08:00

(English below)

Tejidos de la Fundación Chol-Chol.

Victor Jara acaba de enseñarme algo importante. Primeramente, el fondo: De luego estoy trabando mucho en proyectos por la Fundación Chol-Chol, una organización sin fines de lucro orientada hacia la abogacía del comercio justo, ubicada entre Temuco y Nueva Imperial, aquí en el sur de Chile. Más antes durante el febrero, pasé tres días trabajando por la Fundación en la ExpoNativa (feria de culturas indígenas) en Pucón, más al sur. Más reciente, he montado una propuesta de investigación sobre la iconografía en los tejidos producidos por las tejedoras vinculadas a la Fundación. Espero que esta investigación se vinculara con un esfuerzo más ancho en el futuro, para difundir información dentro de la organización para la enseñanza, y afuera de ella para promover la identidad cultural mapuche, al lado del sustento económico. Además estoy colaborando con Natalia Castañeda, también de la Fundación, para postular becas de microcrédito con tejedoras mapuches, la mayoría son mujeres de comunidades rurales afuera de Temuco.

Por supuesto, no puedo evitar la pregunta: Trabando en la Fundación Chol-Chol, ¿cómo puedo entender mejor el mundo musical aquí? Mis trabajos con la Fundación siguen al lado de mi investigación etnográfica sobre unos tipos de música que enriquecen el entendimiento de las luchas de las comunidades Mapuches. Pero, ¿cómo se vinculan estas formas de pruducción cultural? Tengo varias respuestas preliminarias: Primeramente, la música mapuche se concibe, en términos tradicionales, como una colección de símbolos—unos visuales (dibujos en los instrumentos), unos sónicos (los sonidos actuales), otros materiales (los instrumentos). Entonces, para entender la manera de que la música funciona en la cultura Mapuche, hay que enfocar también otros campos simbólicos, en los que los tejidos son importantes. Otra manera de tratar del asunto tiene que ver con mi propia posición aquí. Me intersa contribuir algo a las comunidades, mientras estoy estudiando y aprendiendo. Entonces, la Fundación Chol-Chol ofrece una fuente accesible de trabajos sociales y culturales, señalando el entendimiento en esta región de la cultura como recurso, y la capacidad de organizaciones sin fines de lucro para convertir este entendimiento para el bienestar de las comunidades marginadas.

Sin embargo, en conversación anoche con mi colega Natalia, yo encontré un vinculo más directo aún entre la música, los tejidos, y la fascinante cultura política de este país; todo esto me dejó sin palabras, lágrimas no más. Natalia me presentó una grabación de “Angelita Huenuman” de Victor Jara. Ella contó, “Con ese tema me enamore de las tejedoras, antes de conocerlas. Lo que canta Victor es precisamente lo que yo veo hoy, a pesar de que han pasado mas de 50 años.”

En el valle de Pocuno

Donde rebota el viento del mar

Donde la lluvia cría los musgos

Vive Angelita Huenuman.

Entre el mañio y los hualles

el abellano y el pitrán

entre el aroma de las chilcas

vive Angelita Huenuman.

Cuidada por cinco perros

un hijo que dejó el amor

sencilla como su chacrita

el mundo gira alrededor.

La sangra roja del copihue

corre en sus venas Huenuman

junto a la luz de una ventana

teje Angelita su vida.

Sus manos bailan en la hebra

como alitas de chincol

es un milagro como teje

hasta el aroma de la flor.

En sus telares Angelita

hay tiempo, lágrima y sudor

están las manos ignoradas

de este mi pueblo creador.

Después de meses de trabajo

el chamal busca comprador

y como pájaro enjualado

canta para el mejor pastor.

Yo había escuchado la canción antes, pero no había prestado bastante atención. Anoche, sin embargo, Natalia me imploró que escuchela bien atento, y con razón. Aquí, Jara describe con cariño la existencia difícil de una tejedora mapuche. Con la Fundación, trabajamos con tales mujeres, de comunidades en los alrededores de Temuco. En la canción de Victor Jara, se encuentra una profunda descripción sonora de la misería y el arte, la que también ilumina el lugar de la representación cultural mapuche dentro del movimiento musical de la Nueva Canción. Pocas veces durante la investigación, se encuentra por escuchar tanta explicación política ni cultural; y esto aparte del afecto que produce la canción en mí.

Aquí se encuentra la versión de Jara, así como un ensayo de fotos, al estilo de youtube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmwnXBKnYig&feature=PlayList&p=9702F2067DC9BCE8&index=0

Victor Jara just taught me a tremendous lesson. First, some background: Lately I’ve been working hard on projects for Fundación Chol-Chol, a non-profit fair-trade advocacy organization based between Temuco and Nueva Imperial, here in southern Chile. Earlier this month I spent three days working for the Fundación at the ExpoNativa indigenous culture fair in Pucón, further south. More recently I’ve put together a project proposal for an investigation into the iconography in the textiles produced by weavers working with the Fundación. Hopefully this research will dovetail with a more comprehensive effort in the future to disperse information within the organization for the sake of training, and outside of the organization for the sake of promoting Mapuche cultural identity, alongside economic sustenance. Additionally, I’ve been collaborating with Natalia Castañeda, also of the Fundación, to assemble microcredit grant applications with Mapuche weavers, most of whom are older female artisans from rural communities outside of Temuco.

Of course, in the back of my mind lingers a question: how does this work with textiles inform my understanding of the musical world here? My work with the Fundación runs alongside my ethnographic research about several types of music and performance which enrich an understanding of the struggles faced by Mapuche communities. But how do these forms of cultural production fit together? I have various preliminary answers: Firstly, Mapuche music is, in a traditional sense, conceived of as a collection of symbols—some visual (drawings on instruments), some sonic (the actual sounds), others material (the instruments). Thus, to understand the way music functions in Mapuche culture, one must engage other areas of symbolism as well, in which textiles figure importantly. Another way I address this issue involves my positioning here as a researcher. I have an interest in giving something back to the communities, while learning and studying. Thus, Fundación Chol-Chol offers an accessible outlet with which I can work, signaling the increasing understanding of culture as a resource in this region, and the ability of non-profit groups to capitalize on that understanding of culture, for the benefit of marginalized populations.

However, last night, in conversation with my colleague Natalia, I encountered a more direct link between music, textiles, and Chile’s fascinating political culture; this all left me sin palabras, lágrimas no más (speechless, in tears). Natalia played for me a recording of Victor Jara’s “Angelita Huenuman.” She noted, “Con ese tema me enamore de las tejedoras, antes de conocerlas. Lo que canta Victor es precisamente lo que yo veo hoy, a pesar de que han pasado mas de 50 años.” (“With this song I fell in love with the weavers, before even meeting them. What Victor sings is precisely what I see today, even though fifty years have passed.”)

En el valle de Pocuno

Donde rebota el viento del mar

Donde la lluvia cría los musgos

Vive Angelita Huenuman.

Entre el mañio y los hualles

el abellano y el pitrán

entre el aroma de las chilcas

vive Angelita Huenuman.

Cuidada por cinco perros

un hijo que dejó el amor

sencilla como su chacrita

el mundo gira alrededor.

La sangra roja del copihue

corre en sus venas Huenuman

junto a la luz de una ventana

teje Angelita su vida.

Sus manos bailan en la hebra

como alitas de chincol

es un milagro como teje

hasta el aroma de la flor.

En sus telares Angelita

hay tiempo, lágrima y sudor

están las manos ignoradas

de este mi pueblo creador.

Después de meses de trabajo

el chamal busca comprador

y como pájaro enjualado

canta para el mejor pastor.

(My English translation)

In the Valley of Pocuno

Where the wind skirts off the sea

Where the rain, cultivates the mosses

Lives Angelita Huenuman.

Between the mañio and the haulles [local plants]

the abellano and the pitrán

between the aroma of the chilcas

lives Angelita Huenuman.

Accompanied by five dogs

a son who gave up on his love

she is simple like her little farm

the world outside revolves around.

The red blood of the copihue [flower]

runs in her veins Huenuman

under the light of the window

Angelita weaves her life.

Her hands dance in the threads

like the wings of the chinchol [bird]

it is a miracle how she weaves

equal to the aroma of a flower.

In her weavings Angelita

there are time, tears and sweat

there are the hands ignored

of this my people who create.

I had heard this song before, but had not paid enough attention to it. Last night, however, Natalia implored that I listen closely, and for good reason. Here, Jara describes lovingly the hardscrabble existence of a Mapuche weaver. With the Fundación, we work with such women, from communities outlying Temuco. In Victor Jara’s song, we encounter a rich, affective sound-description of their difficult lives, which also helps to locate Mapuche cultural representation within the Nueva Canción folksong movement. Rarely in research do moments of listening produce such immediate political and cultural insights, and provoke so many more questions, not to mention the affective responses of those listening.

By way of demonstration, here is Jara’s version, with a nice youtube-esque photo essay:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmwnXBKnYig&feature=PlayList&p=9702F2067DC9BCE8&index=0

Rap & Poetry on the Land

2010-01-21T17:50:00.000-08:00

It might seem counterintuitive to spend research time gathering rap albums and camping gear, but this is the 21^st century, and speaking truth to power takes many forms in the southern Chilean countryside. What I’ve been up to in Temuco the last few days: reading blogs about spoken word and rap events in rural southern Chile, listening to groups such as Wechekech ñi Trawün (up in Santiago), and Kolectivo We Newen (here in the south) [see links]; and gathering items like a 4-season tent & trekking pants, for the significant amount of time I plan to spend outside in this warm-now-but-not-for-long part of the world over the coming months.

Tomorrow I’m heading to the area directly west of Temuco, half-way to the coast, just south of Nueva Imperial, for the 4^o Mingako Kultural (4^th Cultural Gathering) [again, see links], organized by poet Erwin Quintupill.

My ipod is still behind in the count when it comes to Chilean rap, so I’ve been riding around Temuco on the buses, listening to Mos Def & Talib Kweli, getting psyched up for the weekend. The NYC beats in the summer heat of southern Chile stir reflections about cultural identification, sense of place, and different forms of self-determination.

Here are some links: to beats, readings, and stirring cultural production; all thanks to Erwin Quintupill, Fabian Marin, and other regional artists (except the Wekecheke ñi trawün link—that group is up in Santiago).

http://mingakokultural.blogspot.com/

http://www.nodo50.org/kolectivowenewen/

http://poesiamapuche.blogspot.com/

http://www.myspace.com/wechekeche4

And finally, some scenery shots from recent travels:

From the cordillera and all across Argentina to the Atlantic (pic. 1, on the Chilean side of the border), westward to Chilean coastal towns like Puerto Saavedra (pic. 2), Mapuche culture is deeply attached to the land. At this juncture in a long and complex history, what do rap and poetry bring to the table? More on that after the weekend.

1. Sierra Nevada & Nacimiento del Bio-Bio, on the Chilean side of the cordillera, near Argentina

2. The coast at Puerto Saavedra: black volcanic beaches, rough cold water stirred by wind, waves & the arctic Humboldt current, rich sea life.

Faith, Anonymity, Architecture, the Country and the City

2010-01-04T09:14:00.000-08:00

Anonymity is a complex issue for a foreigner in a big city, i.e., Santiago, Chile. No one knows me here, at least not out in the street; the government just issued me an ID card, and they know where I’m from, how long I’ll be here, where I’m living, and why I came. But really no one knows me on the street in Santiago. That feeling of being unknown, combined with the heat and noise of a summer afternoon’s errands downtown, can get a little tiring. So I’ve taken a break to drop in on the Catedral Nacional here on the Plaza de Armas (the actual date is Dec. 16 ’09, although I wrote this up & posted it later). This is a stop motivated by both cultural curiosity and an understanding that cathedrals are often relaxing havens from busy cities.

Immediately inside, the cool air, long, dim nave, red marble, colonial artwork, gentle echoes, and pungent smell of a homeless man on the pew in front of me, provoke some reflection and questions: How, in this country with a unique tapestry of Catholicism, Evangelical Protestantism (particularly Anglicanism and Pentecostalism, both prevalent in the south), and multiple indigenous faiths (some syncretic with Christianity), among other forms of spirituality, do Church, faith, power and anonymity mediate one another and shape the dynamics of cultural identity and political/economic ideologies? In terms of pragmatic research concerns, how does my experience as a foreigner inform my understanding of these issues? Allow me to elaborate.

Chile's Catedral Nacional on the Plaza de Armas. Pedro de Valdivia in the foreground.

Sliding scales of architectural grandeur, intimacy, and power determine the sense of anonymity that I feel in the Catedral Nacional in Santiago, and the penetrating lack of anonymity that I experience when friends in the south invite me to church. As a Jewish foreigner, I find these issues very stirring for reflection and writing.

In the south, indigenous culture, specifically of the Mapuche, is a great deal more visible than in Santiago. The south is thus the frontera, both in geographic and cultural terms. Christianity in the south takes different forms than in Santiago, including a much larger presence of Evangelical Protestantism. This set of Christian worship practices and attitudes, in my view, involves a great deal less anonymity than state Catholicism. Southern churches are smaller, the relationship to God is personal, and evangelical work is intimate. This is significant in terms of the role of religion in the state, assuming that the power of the state relies in part on its ability to work anonymously on the body politic. Along these lines, southern Protestants often consider themselves outside of the authority and doctrine of state Catholicism—a stance both politically and spiritually liberating. Also the center of Mapuche culture, with its long-running problematic relationship with the state, the south is perhaps the least Catholic region of Chile.

As noted elsewhere, Chile’s native cultures challenge the civilizational grandeur often attributed by historians, archaeologists and tourism agencies to pre-Colombian cultures of the Andes and Mesoamerica. While they differ enormously in their anthropological frameworks for studying pre-Colombian Chile, both cultural evolutionist Fernando Silva V. (whose work is included in a volume by Villalobos, et al. (1992 [1974])) and left-leaning potter and Mapuche historian Sergio San Martín (2002 [1996]) note that, in Chile, abundant natural resources long precluded the kinds of resource production and monopolization associated with state- and civilization-formation in other parts of the world.[1]

A central Chilean landscape: abundant green and imposing mountains.

This unique economic relationship to the land, spanning the history of Chile’s human populations, is reflected in the architectural legacies of the indigenous populations, the Spanish colony, and the Chilean state. Whether the topic is pre-Colombian architecture or national cathedrals, Chile offers considerably less grandeur than its Latin American neighbors (consider Mexico, for an extreme comparison), and certainly less than Spain. Rather, Chile is filled at every turn with a lush and staggering topography. Perhaps the mountains, desert, rich valleys, and abundant sea-coast are the churches and temples, informing sophisticated, millennia-old cosmologies. By contrast, in other regions these functions belong to great pyramids, ancient cities and colonial cathedrals, situated alongside complex agricultural infrastructure designed to make arid ecosystems support large populations.

In all fairness, Santiago does boast some impressive colonial architecture, albeit less grand than in other Hispanic capitals. The Catedral Nacional stands on the Plaza de Armas amidst other large colonial buildings, along with glass and steel structures telling of Chile’s modern economic prowess. However, around these architectural markers of statehood hovers a blanket of thick smog, a different sort of marker of modernity. Beyond the smog, the central Andes render Santiago a speck of concrete amidst rushing rivers and peaks which retain their snow year-round.

Pedro de Valdivia, conquistador de Chile, on the Plaza de Armas.

What drives faith and cultural identity here: the architecture, or the natural topography of the land? The answer is undoubtedly subjective, belonging to individuals and communities. However, the historical and archaeological records do signal a somewhat inversely proportional relationship between the pre-existing abundance of natural resources and the visibility of huge buildings signaling civilizational advancement in the western sense.

Landscape in southern Chile, Padre las Casas (adjacent to Temuco).

An Anglican Church in Temuco.

Furthermore, between Chile’s internal centers and peripheries, the varied topography of architecture and religion is palpable on a personal level. In the capital, I am a foreigner, in the comfort of religious architecture that is large and impersonal. In Santiago anonymity is both a form of shelter and a boundary to a feeling of belonging, while it mediates spirituality with the power of the state. In the country, to the south, a cultural borderland (frontera) makes faith a more intimate issue, marked by evangelism and small buildings. The south offers no large structures in which to hide, nor from which the state religion can work anonymously.

References

San Martín, Sergio. Importancia de la cultura mapuche: lo que la historia calla. Santiago de Chile: LOM Ediciones, 2002 [1996].

Villalobos R., Sergio, Osvaldo Silva G., Fernando Silva V., y Patricio Estelle M. Historia de Chile. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 1992 [1974].

[1] I may have cited the wrong author for this section of Historia de Chile. The book belongs to a friend in Santiago, and I am writing this entry in Temuco (and not bothering to go the library to double check!). It is either the author I’ve noted, Osvaldo Silva G., or Patricio Estelle M.

From Ceramics and Poetry to Social, Economic and Political Wisdom: Learning about Mapuche Expressive Culture

2009-12-14T08:42:00.000-08:00

En Español, abajo.

This piece of writing approaches Mapuche ceramics and anthropological understandings of traditional expressive culture, as well as contemporary poetry and Mapuche-ized Spanish in the Temuco region. I begin by describing a day at a pottery workshop with Sergio San Martín, and move to a discussion of a civilizational critique based in the study of Mapuche culture, community and economy. I wind up by articulating these themes with poetry, language and music.

A pottery workshop in Gorbea, Chile

December 8 began with a drive from Temuco out to Gorbea, where Johanna Pérez had invited me to attend the second gathering of a FONDART (government sponsored) ceramics workshop. Participants had met once previously to craft greda (clay) into Mapuche-style ceramics. At this second meeting they planned to fire their works in a kiln, at the home of master alfarero (potter) Sergio San Martín, and his daughter Sandra and wife Delia, also master alfareras.

Sergio San Martín and Johanna Pérez.

I had set the whole day aside, having learned during just one week in Temuco that gatherings in southern Chile are seldom hasty. This planning was wise: depositing projects for the kiln occupied only a small part of the day, which between ten in the morning and ten at night also included tea, two large meals, walks around farms, parks and waterfalls, and lengthy discussions about art, music and politics.

From the moment we entered the house, I sensed we were in a special place. Textiles, pottery, paintings and drawings lined the walls, including archeological artifacts, reproductions and modern works, all delicately cared for in a house worn in by a loving family of artists over several generations. Sandra and Sergio invited us to sit in their living room, where casual conversation over tea at mid-morning led to deeper discussions of the importance of Mapuche culture and artwork in modern society. As I found out quickly, don Sergio had literally written the book on this topic (2002 [1996]).

From ceramics to social, economic and political wisdom

Sergio San Martín’s work as an artist, researcher and author involves a combination of archeological investigation and reproduction. His work highlights the social functions of Mapuche ceramics, and the anthropological and historical lessons entailed. As an artist, he is committed to accurate reproductions of Mapuche ceramics, recovered archeologically over long periods of history (reaching back decades, and even hundreds and thousands of years). Many works are anthropomorphic, offering information about family and community life in pre-Colombian contexts. Along with his deep surveys of anthropological and historical literature, his process of (re)doing opens invaluable cultural insights.

Pottery in the taller (workshop) of Sergio, Delia and Sandra San Martín.

At eighty-one years of age, don Sergio has lead a life of devoted political engagement and community work, informed philosophically by Mapuche culture. In my own writing (thus far, mostly research proposals), I have described traditional Mapuche agricultural practices as “collective”—a designation I take from social science literature which counterposes southern Chilean indigenous lifeways against neoliberal capitalism (see Buendía 2006; Foerster y Vergara 2003; Haughney 2006, 2007; Paillal 2006; Penroz 1995). Sergio San Martín, by contrast, has a much deeper understanding of this dynamic, and his knowledge of Mapuche culture has informed his leftist political work since the 1940s.

As we discussed the political and economic lessons embedded in Mapuche culture, don Sergio offered an anecdote: Once during the 1970s or 80s, he was invited to speak at a conference on Latin American indigenous cultures in Cuba. He and his wife Delia attended the event, which took place in a huge, plush conference room. The previous speaker came from Mexico, and elaborated on the grand pyramids and cities of her nation’s indigenous civilizations. She spoke eloquently, and earned great applause. Don Sergio spoke next, and naturally he had a hard act to follow. He stepped to the podium and calmly announced that Chile had no pyramids, no great indigenous cities, no immense temples to pre-Colombian deities. He noted that building pyramids requires the sweat and blood of slaves, and each great city marks the death of a river. In Chile, rather, the indigenous people were free, and they had other ideas about living in harmony with the natural world. Apparently the audience was quiet for a moment, and then offered don Sergio his own loud applause.

Sergio San Martín’s personal copy of Pablo Neruda’s Incitación al Nixonicidio y alabanza de la revolución chilena (1973), signed by the author.

This anecdote speaks to the unique positioning of the Mapuche among indigenous Latin American communities, and their complex relationships to pan-American leftism. If we are to seriously consider Xavier Albo’s discussion of Latin American pluralism and democracy “starting in the base” (1995), then surely San Martín’s deep knowledge of Mapuche culture and its political and economic lessons is exemplary.

One of San Martín’s books, Importancia de la cultura mapuche: lo que la historia calla (Importance of Mapuche culture: what history silences), begins with a similar tone:

Siempre resaltan las pirámides, el oro, las ciudades, los grandes conocimientos de la astronomía, los ejércitos, príncipes y emperadores, como culturas importantes.

De ahí que sepamos tanto del Imperio Inca, Maya y Azteca . . .

. . . A los historiadores les gustan las pirámides, pero los pueblos libres no las construyeron. Se educa contando que el oro lo trabajaron las culturas importantes; la verdad es que el oro siempre está al lado de la vanidad y la codicia, y los imperios que lo trabajaron lo hicieron con esclavos o indígenas que debieron pagar tributo trabajando. Critican al mapuche porque no construyó ciudades ¡qué aberración! cada ciudad fundada ha significado la muerte de un río.

El pueblo mapuche sabía lo que era ser libre, y como dijo Pedro de Valdivia: “aman en demasía a hijos, mujeres y casa”. Eso defendieron nuestros nobles antepasados. (2002 [1996]: 14)[1]

What always stands out are the pyramids, the gold, the cities, the great traditions of astronomy, the armies, princes and emperors, as markers of cultural importance.

From there we know so much about the Inca, Maya and Aztec empires . . .

. . . The historians always like the pyramids, but the free peoples never built them. Our education tells us that the important cultures worked with gold; the truth is that gold always exists alongside vanity and greed, and the empires that worked with it did so with slaves and indigenous people who had to pay tribute while laboring. The Mapuche are criticized because they didn’t build cities. What an aberration! Every city founded has meant the death of a river.

The Mapuche people knew what it was to be free, and as Pedro de Valdivia said: “they love in excess their children, women and families.” This is what our noble ancestors defended. (2002 [1996]: 14)

San Martín’s lessons lead to a wonderful impetus for studying Mapuche culture: a society can be intellectually advanced, with solid family structures and a highly developed sense of natural resource sustainability, without being “advanced,” in the sense of having pyramids and great metropoles. This civilizational critique brings to mind Thomas C. Patterson’s concisely argued thesis in Inventing Western civilization (1996), and clears the way to formulate a study of indigenous expression and lifeways with a deeply committed sense of social purpose.

Language, phonetics, poetry and rap

The idea that the Mapuche have deep-seated cultural ideals—often called a cosmovisión—oriented toward sustainability is common in anthropological and indigenous studies literature (see
Bengoa 2000; Paillal 2006; Penroz 1995). Examining this cosmovisión as a bedrock set of social and cultural principles, furthermore, articulates the Mapuche struggle over land and cultural sovereignty with contemporary polemics over climate change and globalization. This premise also draws the discussion toward language, and other forms of expression.

The Mapuche concern for the environment is not secluded in traditional cultural practices and ideals. Contemporary Mapuche bard Leonel Lienlaf contributes “Temuco-ciudad,” a bilingual Mapudungun-Spanish poem, to the walls of the newly reopened Museo Regional in Temuco:[2]

Kautinleufü

ranginmew müley

ngümanmew nagküley.

Temukowariapüle

ngümamekey.

El río Cautin

en el medio

baja llorando

por Temuco

llora.

Ñielolwinkul

anüley lelitupelu

füchakeruka,

mapuchenoruka.

Rakiduamküley.

El cerro Ñielol

sentado mira

grandes casas

Casas que no son

de mapuches,

piensa.

Temuko-waria

mi iñchemew

umagtumekey

ñi füchake cheyem.

Temuco-ciudad

debajo de ti

están durmiendo

mis antepasados.

Pewmanmew

müley yengün

ka witrumekey

leufümew

ñi molfün.

Soñando en su sueño

están ellos

y corre en el río

su sangre.

(My English translation)

The Cautín River

in the middle

descends in tears

through Temuco

crying.

Cerro Ñielol[3]

seated, looks

at large houses

Houses which don’t belong

to the Mapuche,

it thinks.

Temuco-city

below you

are sleeping

my ancestors.

Dreaming in their sleep

they remain

and running in the river

is their blood.

Temuco, as seen from Cerro Ñielol.

The Temuco-based rap and poetry group Kolectivo We Newen offer other examples of contemporary poetic verse covering both languages and cultures, describing the value of land to indigenous communities.[4] One of the Kolectivo’s members, a young man named Salvador Mariman, recently completed an impressive 118-page volume of personal compositions. In “Hay ausentes que ne se van” (“Some of the absent haven’t left”), Mariman (ND) writes:

Y mi abuelo lloró el día que no pudo volver a su tierra;

me subía a su rodilla

y contaba historias que ya no tengo pues me las quitó el cigarro,

aún cuando el nunca fumó . . .

Hasta el día de hoy no conozco una persona

que cuente mejor las historias que mi tío Beno

y el día de su muerte yo puedo contar,

pero pienso sería prudente no de ello hablar.

Lo extraño y esas conversaciones en el patio,

en el campo, en la noche y en los sueños.

A veces digo que maldito el día

que me dejó ir la vida de mi Temuko amado,

pero aprendí a amarle en la soledad de la pena,

la cual a veces es compañera guía. (subrayar mío)

(My English translation)

And my grandfather cried the day he could not return to his land;

he put me up on his knee

and told me stories that were new to me as he put out his cigar,

even when he didn’t smoke . . .

Until today I do not know a single person

who tells the stories better than my uncle Beno

and the day of his death I can remember,

but I think it would be prudent to not speak of him.

I miss him and those conversations in the backyard,

in the country, in the night and in the dreams.

Sometimes I say damn the day

that I left my life in my beloved Temuko,

but I learned to love it in the solitude of sorrow,

which at times is my companion and guide. (my underlining)

Note the spelling of “Temuko,” with a k rather than c. The hard k sound, and use of the letter in writing, are important markers of difference between Mapudungun, in which they are rather common, and Spanish, in which they essentially never appear.

The use of language, poetry and rap to express the pain of rural-urban migration, and of losing access to rural land, comprises a well-formulated and deeply theorized theme for Kolectivo We Newen. Recent liner notes state:

Nosotros mapuchizamos la poesía y el hip-hop transformandolos en herramientas modernas para la lucha de nuestro pueblo. Estamos concientes que hoy el 70% del pueblo mapuche vive en las zonas urbanas y que el 30% restante depende de las zonas urbanas para salud, educación, trabajo, etc., pero que se puede ser mapuche en la urbe. Además estamos concientes que la cultura no está congelada en el tiempo y por ende creemos que podemos adoptar nuevas herramientas que ayuden a fortelecer nuestra identidad, mapuchizarlas y darles un enfoque nacionalista pues es valido. (2008)

We mapuche-ize poetry and hip-hop, transforming them into modern tools with which to fight for our people. We are conscious of the fact that today 70% of the Mapuche people live in urban locations and that the remaining 30% depend upon the urban areas for health, education, work, etc., however we can be Mapuche in the city. We are also conscious that culture is not frozen in time, and so we believe that we can adopt new tools to help foster our identity, mapuche-ize those tools, and focus them on the creation of a valid nationalism. (2008)

Theory and praxis merge even in everyday communications for members of this group. For instance, they respond to my emails with word substitutions such as “kasa” for “casa,” “aka” for “acá/aquí,” or “kualkiera” for “cualquiera.” Coming from well educated literary artists, these substitutions are calculated, deliberate and impactful.

The materiality of language

Back in the living room in Gorbea, this application of language came up as a topic of discussion during the morning of the greda workshop. Don Sergio suggested reading a book by Adalberto Salas, entitled Textos orales en mapuche o araucano del centro-sur de Chile (1984), which treats this play of language and phonetics (again, consider the k in “Temuko”). All of this discussion helped me to understand that the multiple indigenous art forms we had considered during the day are each entwined in cultural identity, economics, community, and sense of place. Our host offered a thought that further illumines the relationship between the material arts (i.e., pottery and textiles) and the performative arts (i.e., poetry, rap, Mapuche-ized Spanish language), by considering the materiality of the written word. Referring to the use of Mapuche phonetics in written Spanish, don Sergio suggested: “You see, in writing, language becomes a kind of drawing.”

Southern Chilean countryside.

Desde la greda y la poesía hasta la sabiduría social, económica y política:

el aprendizaje sobre las expresiones culturales mapuches

Este ensayo trata de la alfarería mapuche y el entendimiento antropológico de la expresiva cultura tradicional, así como la poesía contemporánea y el castellano mapuchizado en la región de Temuco. Empiezo por describir un día en taller de greda con Sergio San Martín, y sigo a comentar sobre una crítica del concepto occidental de civilización, basada en el estudio de la cultura mapuche, así como en conceptos mapuches de comunidad y economía. Al fin, yo relaciono estos temas con la poesía, el idioma y la música.

Un taller de alfarería en Gorbea, Chile

El día del 8 del diciembre comenzó con un viaje en auto de Temuco a Gorbea, donde Johanna Pérez me había invitado a la segunda reunión de un taller de greda y alfarería, auspiciado por FONDART (parte del gobierno chileno). Los participantes ya se habían reunido una vez para trabajar con la greda al estilo mapuche. Durante esta segunda reunión, tuvieron planes de preparar sus obras en el horno de la casa del alfarero maestro Sergio San Martín, y de su hija Sandra y su esposa Delia, también alfareras de alto nivel.

Sergio San Martín y Johanna Pérez.

Yo había dejado todo el día para este evento, habiendo aprendido durante sólo una semana en Temuco que reuniones en el sur de Chile son normalmente no muy apuradas. Fue una buena idea: dejar las obras para el horno ocupó solamente una pequeña porción del día, que entre las diez en la mañana y las diez en la noche inclusó también el almuerzo, la once, un paseo en el campo, y unas discusiones fascinantes sobre el arte, la música y la política.

Desde nuestra llegada en la casa, yo entendí que estuvimos en un lugar especial. Tejidos, alfarería, pinturas y dibujos están en las paredes, incluso de artefactos arqueológicos, reproducciones y obras modernas, todos cuidados delicadamente en una casa de una cariñosa familia de multiples generaciones de artistas. Sandra y Sergio nos invitaron a sentarse en la sala, donde una conversación informal con té durante la mañana siguió a discusiones profundas de la importancia de la cultura mapuche en la sociedad contemporánea. Como aprendí rapidamente, don Sergio literalmente había escrito el libro sobre este tema (2002 [1996]).

Desde la alfarería hasta la sabiduría social, económica y política

La obra de Sergio San Martín, como artista, investigador y autor, incluye una combinación de investigación arqueológica y reproducción. Su obra enfoca la función social de la alfarería mapuche, y las enseñanzas antropológicas y históricas implicadas en ella. Como artista, él se dedica a reproducir con precisión la tradicional alfarería mapuche, rescatada arqueológicamente tras largos períodos de la historia (décadas, así como cientos y miles de años). Muchas obras son antropomórficas, ofreciendo información sobre la vida familiar y comunitaria en contextos pre-Colombinos. Junto con sus estudios profundos de la literatura antropológica y histórica, su proceso de (re)crear abre importantes lecturas culturales.

Alfarería en el taller de Sergia, Delia y Sandra San Martín.

Con ochenta y un años, don Sergio ha tenido una vida dedicada a la participación política, informada filosóficamente por la cultura mapuche. En lo que yo he escrito ya (por la mayoría, incluso de propuestas de proyectos y becas), he descrito la tradicional agricultura mapuche como “colectiva”—una designación que viene de literatura en las ciencias sociales, donde se contrapone las formas indígenas de vida en el sur de Chile, con el capitalismo neoliberal (a ver Buendía 2006; Foerster y Vergara 2003; Haughney 2006, 2007; Paillal 2006; Penroz 1995). Sergio San Martín, en contraste, lleva un entendimiento mucho más profundo de esta dinámica, y su conocimiento de la cultura mapuche ha informado sus trabajos izquierdistas desde los años 1940.

Mientras hablar de las lecciones políticas y económicas implícitas en la cultura mapuche, don Sergio ofreció una anécdota: Una vez durante los años 1970 o 1980, él fue invitado a dar una charla frente un congreso en Cuba sobre las culturas indígenas de la América Latina. Sergio y su esposa Delia asistieron el congreso, que tomó lugar en una gran sala. La hablante previa vino de México, y describió las grandes pirámides y ciudades de las civilizaciones indígenas de su nación. Ella habló elocuentemente y ganó un aplauso fuerte. Después habló don Sergio. Llegó al podio y con tranquilidad contó que Chile no tiene pirámides, ni grandes ciudades indígenas, ni templos para los dioses pre-Colombinos. Él notó que construir pirámides requiere el sudor y la sangre de esclavos, y que cada gran ciudad significa la muerte de un río. En Chile, en cambio, la gente indígena eran libres, y llevaban otras ideas para vivir en la armonía con la naturaleza. Aparentemente el público se quedó en silencio por un momento, y después ofreció a don Sergio su propio aplauso fuerte.

La copia personal de don Sergio, del libro Incitación al Nixonicidio y alabanza de la revolución chilena (1973), firmado por el autor Pablo Neruda.

Esta anécdota demuestra la posición especial de los Mapuche entre las comunidades originarias de la América Latina, en cuanto a sus relaciones complejas con el izquierdismo panamericano. Si vamos a consider en serio la discusión de Xavier Albo, del pluralismo latinoamericano “empezando en la base” (1995), entonces seguramente el conocimiento profundo que lleva San Martín sobre la cultura mapuche y sus lecciones económicas y políticas es ejemplar.

Uno de los libros escritos por San Martín, Importancia de la cultura mapuche: lo que la historia calla, abre en un tono así:

Siempre resaltan las pirámides, el oro, las ciudades, los grandes conocimientos de la astronomía, los ejércitos, príncipes y emperadores, como culturas importantes.

De ahí que sepamos tanto del Imperio Inca, Maya y Azteca . . .

El pueblo mapuche sabía lo que era ser libre, y como dijo Pedro de Valdivia: “aman en demasía a hijos, mujeres y casa”. Eso defendieron nuestros nobles antepasados. (2002 [1996]: 14)

Las enseñanzas de San Martín nos dirigen a un impulso muy productivo para estudiar la cultura mapuche: una sociedad puede ser intelectualmente avanzada, con sólidas estructuras familiares y un entendimiento avanzado de la sostenibilidad de los recursos naturales, sin ser “avanzada” en el sentido de tener pirámides y grandes ciudades. Esta crítica del concepto de civilización me acuerda del tesis, muy bien formulado, del libro Inventing Western Civilization (La invención de la civilización occidental) (1996) de Thomas C. Patterson. Además, esta crítica abre el camino hasta estudios e investigaciones con una positiva finalidad social.

Idioma, fonética, poesía y rap

La idea de que los Mapuche tienen ideales culturales—muchas veces rodeadas bajo la palabra cosmovisión—orientadas hacia la sostenibilidad, es común en la literatura antropológica y histórica (a ver Bengoa 2000; Paillal 2006; Penroz 1995). Además, examinar esta cosmovisión como base de principios sociales y culturales nos permite vincular la lucha Mapuche, por causa de recuperar tierra y soberanía cultural, con otras polémicas contemporáneas sobre el cambio climático y la globalización. Este propósito también acerca la discusión del idioma, entre otras formas de expresión.

La preocupación mapuche por el ambiente natural no es secuestrada en la cultura tradicional. El contemporáneo poeta mapuche Leonel Lienlaf, contribuye “Temuco-ciudad,” un poema bilingue (español y mapudungun), para la pared en el Museo Regional de la Araucanía:

Kautinleufü

ranginmew müley

ngümanmew nagküley.

Temukowariapüle

ngümamekey.

El río Cautin

en el medio

baja llorando

por Temuco

llora.

Ñielolwinkul

anüley lelitupelu

füchakeruka,

mapuchenoruka.

Rakiduamküley.

El cerro Ñielol

sentado mira

grandes casas

Casas que no son

de mapuches,

piensa.

Temuko-waria

mi iñchemew

umagtumekey

ñi füchake cheyem.

Temuco-ciudad

debajo de ti

están durmiendo

mis antepasados.

Pewmanmew

müley yengün

ka witrumekey

leufümew

ñi molfün.

Soñando en su sueño

están ellos

y corre en el río

su sangre.

Temuco, visto del Cerro Ñielol.

El Kolectivo We Newen, un grupo de rap y poesía basado en Temuco, ofrece otros ejemplos del contemporáneo verso poético que emplea ambos idiomas y culturas respectivas, con el propósito de describir el valor de la tierra para las comunidades indígenas.[1] Salvador Mariman, poeta y miembro del Kolectivo, recientemente escribió un tomo impresionante de poesía original. En el poema “Hay ausentes que no se van,” Mariman escribe:

Y mi abuelo lloró el día que no pudo volver a su tierra;

me subía a su rodilla

y contaba historias que ya no tengo pues me las quitó el cigarro,

aún cuando el nunca fumó . . .

Hasta el día de hoy no conozco una persona

que cuente mejor las historias que mi tío Beno

y el día de su muerte yo puedo contar,

pero pienso sería prudente no de ello hablar.

Lo extraño y esas conversaciones en el patio,

en el campo, en la noche y en los sueños.

A veces digo que maldito el día

que me dejó ir la vida de mi Temuko amado,

pero aprendí a amarle en la soledad de la pena,

la cual a veces es compañera guía. (subrayar mío)

Nota la manera de escribir “Temuko,” con k en lugar de c. El sonido duro de k, y el uso de esta letra escrita, marcan una diferencia entre el mapudungun y el español (dónde casi jamás aparecen).

El uso de idioma, poesía, y rap para expresar la pena de la migración desde el campo hasta la ciudad, y de la pérdida de tierra, representa un tema bien formulado y teorizado por el Kolectivo We Newen. El folleto de un álbum reciente propone:

La teoría y la práctica se unen en comunicaciones diarias para los miembros de este grupo. Por ejemplo, frecuentemente responden a mis emails con palabras substituidas, por ejemplo: kasa/casa, aka/acá, kualkiera/cualquiera. Estas substituciones son calculadas, deliberadas y impactantes.

La materialidad del idioma

Otra vez en la sala de la familia San Martín en Gorbea, esta aplicación de idioma surgió como tema de la conversación durante la mañana del taller de greda. Don Sergio sugirió que yo lea un libro de Adalberto Salas, Textos orales en mapuche o araucano del centro-sur de Chile (1984), que trata de este juego de idioma y fonética (otra vez, considera el k en “Temuko”). Esta conversación me ayudó entender que las multiples formas de arte indígena que habíamos considerado durante el día son vinculadas con la identidad cultural, la economía, y el sentido de lugar (o tierra). Nuestro anfitrión ofreció un pensamiento para iluminar aún más la relación entre los artes materiales (i.e., la alfarería y los tejidos) y los artes performativos (i.e., la poesía, el rap, el castellano mapuchizado), por tratar de la materialidad de la palabra escrita. Referiendose al uso de la fonética mapuche en el español escrito, don Serio sugirió: “Como se ve, escrito, el idioma puede ser un tipo de dibujo.”

Paisaje del sur de Chile.

Bibliografía

Albó, Xavier. “Our identity starting from pluralism in the base.” In The postmodernism debate in Latin America, edited by John Beverly, José Oviedo and Michael Aronna, 18-33. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1995.

Bengoa, José. Historia del pueblo Mapuche (siglo XIX y XX). Santiago de Chile: LOM Ediciones, 2000.

Buendía, Mauricio. La lucha del pueblo Mapuche. Valparaíso, Chile: Oikos Ltda., 2006.

Foerster G., Rolf y Jorge Iván Vergara. “Etnia y nación en la lucha por el reconicmiento. Los mapuches en la sociedad chilena.” En Mapuches y aymaras: el debate en torno al reconicimiento y los derechos ciudadanos, editado por Hans Gundermann Kröll, Rolf Foerster González and Jorge Iván Vergara del Solar, 105-66. Santiago de Chile: Universidad de Chile 2003.

Haughney, Diane. Neoliberal economics, democratic transition, and Mapuche demands for rights in Chile. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2006.

———. “Neoliberal policies, logging companies, and Mapuche struggle for autonomy in Chile.” Latin American and Caribbean Ethnic Studies 2, no. 2 (September 2007): 141–60.

Kolectivo We Newen. http://www.nodo50.org/kolectivowenewen [November 26, 2008]

Mariman, Salvador. Extiendo mis alas a pesar del largo invierno. ND, NP.

Paillal, José Millalén. “La sociedad Mapuche prehispánica: Kimün, arqeuología y etnohistoria.” In ¡ . . . Escucha, winka . . . !: cuatro ensayos de historia nacional Mapuche y un epílogo sobre el futuro, edited by Pablo Marimán, Sergio Caniuqueo, José Millalén and Rodrigo Levil, 17-52. Santiago de Chile: LOM Ediciones, 2006.

Patterson, Thomas C. Inventing Western civilization. New York: Monthly Review Press, 1996.

Penroz, Ziley Mora. La Antigua vision indígena de la naturaleza como energía inspiradora en la fundación de una ética del ambiente. Temuco, Chile: Editorial Kushe, 1995.

Salas, Adalberto. Textos orales en mapuche o araucano del centro-sur de Chile. Concepción, Chile: Editorial de la Universidad de Concepción, 1984.

San Martín, Sergio. Importancia de la cultura mapuche: lo que la historia calla. Santiago de Chile: LOM Ediciones, 2002 [1996].

[1] We Newen significa fuerza en mapudungun.

[1] Pedro de Valdivia is the Spanish conquistador associated with the colonizing of Chile. His contact with the Mapuche dates to the middle of the sixteenth century.

[2] Mapudungun, sometimes also spelled Mapuzungun, refers to the indigenous language of the Mapuche. The term Mapuche means “people” (che) “of the land” (mapu). Mapudungun, in turn, means “language of the people of the land.”

[3] Cerro Ñielol is a hill on the northern edge of Temuco, which has long been an important site in Mapuche culture. During the Pacificación (pacification) of the region, Chile’s military incursion to terminate native sovereignty in the south during the 1880s, the Cerro Ñielol served as the site of an important treaty.

[4] The group’s name means “Collective Force” in a synthesis of Spanish and Mapudungun.

Chile: Eating Globalization

2009-12-14T08:13:00.000-08:00

Temuco, the southern Chilean city where I live at the moment, is a place with unmistakably local character. The micros (buses) are uniquely small and rumbly; the downtown is dense, though by and large it lacks high-rises; there are at least two large universities, two malls and an airport; and most of the area is heated by woodsmoke. This is in many ways Chile’s breadbasket: the longstanding center of Mapuche horticultural/agricultural practices; a major producer of wheat during the mid-20^th century; and, controversially, a major exporter of farmed timber in recent decades.[1]

Chilean produce is world-renowned for its richness in flavor and variety. In the age of skype, Chilean fruit seems to move abroad more efficiently than international phone calls. Under the dictatorship (1973-90), Chilean produce became a hot commodity in foreign markets. A number of studies document the challenges for Chilean agriculturalists, particularly among indigenous and/or migrant farming communities, in the changing economic and political landscapes of the 20^th and 21^st centuries (Faron 1961; Tinsman 2002; Titiev 1951). The more recent stages of change involve intense orientation toward a global export market. Examining the effects of these dynamics abroad, Heidi Tinsman illustrates how recent North American attitudes about consumption and body type have evolved contingent upon the availability of Chilean produce.[2]

What does globalization taste like in Temuco? The other day I sat down for once (late-day tea in Chile; pronounced like the Spanish word for eleven) with Lydia, the matriarch of a family with whom I am very close here. Lydia put an apple on the table, with a knife. I cut the apple, and before I could form any opinions, she pointed out that the fruit was a little dry, and had browned in certain areas. She noted that it was the best thing available at the market that day. Chile has superb produce, she told me, but many of the best items go abroad.

Fruit stand in Santiago.

The next day, in my new apartment, I surveyed the provisions I had picked up for breakfast: American Quaker Oats cereal, with local milk; an under-ripe local peach (though it would taste wonderful later); English tea; and NESCAFE instant coffee (produced who-knows-where). I laid it all out over a table cloth woven in Southeast Asia, and briefly said thanks for the cheap rent I was paying.

Of course, life isn’t driven entirely by common denominator price floors—especially not in Chile. The non-profit sector here demonstrates that a similar target market as the one engaged by the fruit trade is also more than willing to support indigenous artisans by purchasing textiles and other crafts at a premium; and indeed, this is a very positive cultural-economic relationship.

Thanks to a splendid topography, eco-tourism produces a similar effect, but not without complicated dynamics of exchange. I’m jotting these thoughts in my notebook as I sit in a cafe in Pucón, a small town about two hours south of Temuco, nestled between deep, blue lakes, and colossal, snow-capped volcanoes and Andean peaks. It is now the beginning of summer, and all day long I have watched bus-loads of adventurous, young foreigners arrive. They are dressed fashionably, if ruggedly; they speak many different languages; and more are arriving than leaving. Earlier in the day, the attendant at an adventure travel outfitter (where I had rented a bike) told me in impassioned, impeccable English about how badly he wanted to get to the United States. There, he said, the economy could give him room to grow. In Pucón, by contrast, he makes $400(US) per month, with only two days off, despite the bread-and-butter tourist season just getting under way.

Pucón, Chile.

Yet globalization in southern Chile means more than young, stylishly invested capital in places like Pucón, and food flying northward off the shelves from Temuco. Admittedly, this writing results partly from the buzz of a German-style lager, accompanying a heavy plate of ravioli, served with Mapuche-style fried bread—all of this about two hours ago, right here in Pucón. And the energy to write came, in addition to an invigorating ride on a bike earlier in the day, from a powerful Italian-style espresso served in a spot called “Coffee & Adventure” on Pucón’s main street. Even if the coffee points to more recent trends in gourmet consumption (although I can’t confirm this based on my own ethno-culinary knowledge), the lager and the heavy pasta dish point to a long history of European—and especially German—immigration to the region, reaching back to the 1840s. To be sure, southern Chile offers some pretty complex flavors.

References

Faron, Louis C. Mapuche social structure: institutional reintegration in a patrilineal society. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1961.

Tinsman, Heidi. Partners in conflict: the politics of gender, sexuality, and labor in the Chilean Agrarian Reform, 1950-1973. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2002.

———. Personal website. http://www.humanities.uci.edu/history/faculty/tinsman [December 14, 2009]

Titiev, Mischa. Araucanian culture in transition. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1951.

[1] Whereas wheat farming comprised a more stable source of employment when it was more widespread during the mid-20^th century, tree plantations require a smaller labor force. As a result of the recent predominance of tree plantations, large portions of the rural labor force has migrated away from the region.

[2] See Dr. Tinsman’s personal website, where she describes this innovative research project: http://www.humanities.uci.edu/history/faculty/tinsman.

Manka Saya playing a wedding in Santiago

2009-12-01T18:56:00.000-08:00

This is a brief collection of photos. Manka Saya played a lively set at this wedding on Nov. 29, and had the entire party dancing, con gusto! The event took place on a vinyard just outside the city, to the southeast. I was fortunate to be invited along, both to observe and to take some photos which both the band and I could use. This was my first Chilean wedding experience; needless to say, I tried to keep quiet and listen. Being the photographer in a new place is not easy; in this case I worked hard to follow cues for a situation previously unknown to me in Chile, and to learn new dance steps--literally! The camera always makes relationships with new friends more complex, but my hope is that the members of Manka Saya will find these photos useful, and strengthen my bond with them. Enjoy!

¿Aymara Cumbia en Santiago? ¡Sí po’!: Panpipes Rock a Chilean Venue

2009-11-28T20:47:00.000-08:00

The night of November 25, 2009 began with cumbia, which is extremely popular in Chile these days, and moved on to, well, more cumbia, played on traditional Aymara sikus (also called zampoñas, or panpipes). This piece of music-writing modulates between performance descriptions, reflections on cultural politics, and considerations of ethnographic understandings about music, based (with admitted short-sightedness) on just one night of music in one of Santiago de Chile’s music venues.

About the writing style

Since this is a blog, most thoughts are immediate and reflective, based on my current observations and state of mind. A more thorough piece of ethnographic writing would engage a great deal of theoretical material, offer comparative case studies, and dialogically represent other people involved in the event. At some point in the future, this piece may become part of a bona fide ethnography, however for now it remains a blog. This kind of expressive writing can certainly share generative processes of observation and reflection with more formal, transactional ethnographic writing. Yet the styles remain deliberately rather different. For instance, when I attended the performance described in this piece, I had been thinking about work by ethnomusicologists Steve Feld and Rosalía Martínez. Whereas a long list of references could color the analysis of this scene in more deeply ethnographic writing, I am blogging rather informally, focusing on insights from these two scholars; put simply, their work was on my mind, and it influenced the way I experienced and have since interpreted the event. Lastly, this being a blog, I wanted to get it out quickly, lest it sour on the vine while I try to work it into something more scholarly.

Who, what, when, where, and how it sounded

I was standing on the side of the dance floor at Casa Bar, on Santiago’s Plaza Brasil, when the emcee jubilantly announced the evening’s first performers, JuanaFé, to roaring applause. Earlier that day I had taken in a much more commercial version of Chilean cumbia, when a record store owner near the Plaza de Armas in the middle of Santiago laid four hit albums out on the counter before me, each by Américo, the young Chilean cumbia star from Arica in the far north. I admit some skepticism: despite Américo’s obvious talent, I struggled to hear beyond his sultry romantic style, and to see beyond his slick, three-piece suit, all of which reinforced the association in my mind between the artist and a slew of un-thrilling, commercial pop music issued by labels such as Feria de Discos. Neither did it help when, a day later, I watched a bland biographical talk-show piece about Américo on a publicly mounted television set, while waiting in an interminable line to apply for a Chilean identification card at the Registro Civil e Identificación (akin to the DMV in the United States). Yet at the club that night, JuanaFé offered quite a different kind of listening experience, as did Manka Saya, the Chilean Aymara-style siku band that followed them.

JuanaFé is a young and talented band playing rock-style cumbia. Lead singer Juan Ayala alternately commands the percussiveness of a rapper, the high soaring tones of a Jamaican rude boy, and the screams of a punk rocker, while the band shifts rhythms and tempos correspondingly; cumbia is the primary rhythmic and stylistic glue. The audience at Casa Bar struck me as primarily twenty-something, filling the gray concrete inside of the bar with youthful energy. Dreadlocks bounced while hips swayed and feet stepped quickly to the güiro, congas, trap set, keyboard, electric bass, and off-beat guitar chords. While cumbia derives initially from Colombia, and has a huge commercial presence around Latin America and beyond, JuanaFé performed a local rendition, staging styles of dance and music, and attitudes about socializing in public, which pertain foremost to Santiago, Chile.

I had heard about that evening’s show from Pedro, a Chilean graduate student and member of Manka Saya, while attending an ethnomusicology seminar at the Museo de Bellas Artes earlier in the day. Pedro told me to expect zampoñas, which in my mind signaled música andina or folklórica—fitting in this bohemian scene. The show was sponsored by Fundación Victor Jara, underscoring the decades-old political consciousness palpable in many Chilean music venues. Indeed, Casa Bar on November 25 was really more of the dreadlocks-and-drinking-beer-in-the-park crowd, which Chile is known for at least as much as it is for Américo’s romantic cumbias and ballads from Arica.

After an hour of boisterous, enthusiastically received cumbia by JuanaFé, Manka Saya took the stage; for lack of an adequate Chilean modismo (colloquial expression), I’ll just say they completely rocked the joint with Aymara-style zampoña music. For the initial portion of their set, the group remained on the stage, wearing brightly colored sashes and woven satchels, playing hard into their instruments, and dancing in coordinated steps to a rolling snare drum, crashing cymbals, and an enormous bass drum slung over the player’s shoulder like a bombo (a more traditional large Andean drum). Audience members danced sayas and cumbias (among other steps), and applauded thunderously after each piece. Time and again the applause was displaced by the booming bass drum, an introductory melody on the sikus, or a bell signaling the start of another aggressively interpreted Andean dance number. Pedro made rapid-fire announcements between songs, and if I had a better ear for Chilean Spanish, I probably would have understood that he was preparing the audience for the moment later in the set when Manka Saya would descend onto the floor.

My vantage point

This performance occurred on my third day in Chile. I had just arrived from Mexico City, where I attended the meeting of the Society for Ethnomusicology, an annual event which invariably inspires me to go out in the world and develop insights about how sound articulates with social life and structure, through my listening and writing. I had also been reading Steve Feld’s Sound and sentiment (1990 [1982]) during my first several days in Chile, trying to reinvigorate a sense of what to listen to while researching a topic—human rights in Chile—which interests me equally in its political dimensions as in its sonorous ones. (Serendipitously, Feld gave the keynote talk at SEM, further enriching the inspiration I’ve encountered lately in his writing.) Under these influences, I found myself asking: how does the Chilean human rights debate sound? And how does the cuestión mapuche, or cuestión indígena sound?[1]

In this writing, I initially planned to elaborate on the sounds of an indigenous music-culture (Aymara, from northern Chile) in an urban music scene, and what the presence of these sounds might reflect about today’s intense controversía over human rights in Mapuche communities to the south. However, reading into a performance of Aymara-style cumbia for ideas about the Mapuche situation soon struck me as a bit far-fetched. On the other hand, this performance does indicate an urban community’s active interest in local Andean cultures, and the show’s sponsorship by Fundación Victor Jara certainly articulates this interest with a deep sense of social and political awareness. Herein certainly lie insights about Chilean cultural, political and social life, even if they are not the insights I initially sought.

During the afternoon leading up to the performance, I had attended a seminar by Chilean ethnomusicologist Rosalía Martínez (who researches in Bolivia and teaches in Paris), on the multisensorial experience of color and sound in Andean music. Martínez attended to the importance of chromatic motifs in the brightly colored textiles which often accompany the bright sounds of music in Aymara and Quechua Andean communities. Before this writing, I had returned for another round in the seminar, during which Profesora Martínez addressed the construction of identity through music, vis-à-vis collective bodily movement. In other words, identity-forming experiences in music occur not only through the organs which most acutely produce and receive sound, but through the entire body, as sound provokes coordinated movement. And of course, movement and sound during music events affect subjectivity and identification right along with whatever host of visual, olfactory, or other stimuli are present. At any rate, that night at Casa Bar I had structuralism and the body politic on the brain, with my ears and eyes open to come-what-may in one of Santiago’s more bohemian situations.

Manka Saya hits the ground running

Half-way through their set, Manka Saya filed from the stage down onto the dance floor. Sashes, hats and satchels bobbing, feet stomping, drums banging and zampoñas blaring, they opened up a space of movement and sound which, despite the absence of microphones (which they had left up on the stage), made the huge room reverberate for an additional thirty minutes of sweaty, smoky, beer-sprinkled jubilation. The audience danced to the group’s lively cumbias, alternately in pairs, alone, or joining hands with multiple people in the close vicinity. Musicians grabbed beers from surrounding revelers, taking large gulps between blasts into their zampoñas. The band moved up and down the dance floor in columns and concentric circles, and suddenly we were all transported to Carnival on the altiplano.

Rosalía Martínez’s discussions flashed through my mind: symmetry in Andean artistic expression; coordinated bodies in motion during Andean celebrations; brightness in color and sound; the ringing in the ears and the moving of the feet, which together wash over the individual with a sense of the collective. Behind me a group of audience members linked hands and began rotating the outer rim of the club in concentric circles around the musicians. In the middle, the band turned the giant bass drum on its side and hoisted one of the musicians up on it, so that he could dance above the entire crowd. The snare drum held the dance together, breaking through the dense layers of sound with an irresistible Andean roll, morphed into an equally irresistible cumbia. The zampoñas and drums together filled the large room with an incredible amount of sound, while the PA system remained onstage, its parts dangling unused.

Analysis: sikus, cumbia, politics, and cultural identity in Santiago

Bearing in mind the lessons of Steve Feld and Rosalía Martínez, what did this intense sonic, visual and kinesthetic experience signify about the culture(s) and society(ies) which produced it? Beyond music, or inside and all around it, what was sounding here, as electrified rock/reggae/punk-oriented cumbia gave way to cumbia on sikus, with both performances provoking great excitement in the Casa Bar on Santiago’s Plaza Brasil?

As noted earlier, the evening was, in part, courtesy of Fundación Victor Jara. Pictures of Jara, the martyr of Chile’s overtly political nueva canción movement, hung in the back rooms of the Casa Bar. Onstage, JuanaFé played a cumbia directly honoring him, while an audience member hoisted an acoustic guitar in the air as a symbol of solidarity with the legendary bard. That the evening featured panpipes, then, is not surprising, considering their importance to nueva canción, which Jara helped to pioneer in similarly bohemian atmospheres during the 1960s and 70s.

More interesting, I think (though this is probably not surprising for neighborhood locals), is the shared, embodied enthusiasm for the rock-cumbia of JuanaFé, and the Aymara/siku-cumbia of Manka Saya, on the same bill. That Aymara indigenous music is a centerpiece of an evening of cumbia in one of Santiago’s popular music venues signifies that Chileans, at least in this neighborhood, cherish the music-cultures native to their part of the world. Going a step further, perhaps the overall event illustrates the articulation of the artistic and political prerogatives of two generations: the earlier one, which through nueva canción brought northern Andean indigenous sounds to national and international notoriety; and the later one, which has embraced cumbia (among other rhythms and styles originating in tropical regions), and adapted it to regional variants that enhance the appeal and versatility of music styles considered more traditionally Andean (such as Aymara music).

Closing thoughts

During a panel at the recent SEM meeting in México, D.F., several young scholars discussed the role of the urban dance club, as a place where people reinvent or reassert themselves—culturally, aesthetically, sexually, even economically. A powerful counterpoint to the activity of the urban workday, this imaginative process occurs collectively, through bodily and sound-mediated recreation. A major concern of panelist Kate Levitt, of the University of California at San Diego, involved whether such social action is now largely corporate in metropolitan nightclub scenes, and the ways in which club-goers might mobilize to recapture their social space. In this part of Santiago, I am happy to report a lively commingling of locally reworked rock-cumbia by JuanaFé, as well as cumbia played on indigenous zampoñas, with the spirit of Victor Jara lingering all around.

References / Links

Feld, Steven. Sound and Sentiment. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1990 [1982].

Fundación Victor Jara. http://fundacionvictorjara.cl [November 28, 2009]

JuanaFé. http://juanafe.cl [November 28, 2009]

Manka Saya. http://www.myspace.com/mankasaya [November 28, 2009]

[1] Since the end of its dictatorship (1973-90), Chile is known as a leading Latin American nation in human rights reform and economic development. Today, however, ongoing territorial conflicts between the government and indigenous Mapuche communities in the south call into question the rigor of the recent reforms, suggesting that human rights is an opportunity cost of economic advancement. Getting back to sound, I’ll elaborate elsewhere on the onomatopoeic etymology of the term Araucanía (referring to southern Chile), media sound bytes about the Mapuche, indigenous rap, the kultrún (a Mapuche drum), and so forth. At the moment, I’m not there yet.