Showing posts with label Mexican traditional music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mexican traditional music. Show all posts

Friday, July 6, 2018

Traditional Indigenous Dancers: Concheros and Danzantes Aztecas

In our early years living in Mexico City, we had frequently seen "Aztec dancers" dressed with elaborate feather headdresses and loin cloths, performing with their drums and rattles and burning incense in the Zócalo, Mexico City's central plaza. In the 21st century, they seemed to be an anomalous throwback to prehispanic times, more than five hundred years past. We assumed they were performing for the tourists, Mexican as well as foreign. We were wrong. Our biased perspective was that of a tourist.

Over the past two years, attending many fiestas in the originally indigenous pueblos and barrios now incorporated in the City, we have frequently encountered such Aztec dancers. We have learned that, while they present themselves in several variations of attire and play a variety of musical instruments and even call themselves names other than Aztec, they share an identification with Mexicans' indigenous roots. And their only audience, except for us, is el pueblo, the people of the neighborhood.

It became obvious that they take their dancing very seriously. It is not for entertainment. It is a very personal and communal ritual act, something that would have to be called religious and spiritual. We wanted to understand the complexity and history of what we were witnessing. So we began to explore their story, speaking with some dancers and researching online.

Aztec dancer at the patron saint fiesta of
Pueblo San Sebastián Axotla,
Delegación Álvaro Obregón

It turns out that, while these dancers may seem a nostalgic re-creation of a past that has disappeared, they actually have a long and continuous history going back to the early days after the Spanish Conquest (Wikipedia).

Origin of the Aztec-Conchero Dancers


The dances, now often called Azteca in Mexico City, originally arose in areas of South Central Mexico not too far from Mexico City. Different sources give varying accounts. Querétaro, a state to the northwest of Mexico City, is one. Tlaxcala, to the east, is another. The dancers were originally called concheros, after the lute-like stringed instruments they played.

According to one tradition, the birth of the Conchero Dance was in the city of Santiago de Querétaro (now the capital of the State of Querétero) on Tuesday, July 25, 1531. The tale is very Mexican; it centers on a miracle. (Coincidentally, the Virgin of Guadalupe is believed to have appeared to the Nahua Juan Diego in a series of visions the same year, between December 9 and 12, 1531). The story goes as follows:
After a long period of war with the Spanish after the fall of Tenochtitlan, the chichimecas (not a specific tribe, but the generic name applied by settled, agrarian indigenous, hence 'civilized' peoples to nomadic hunter-gatherer tribes, considered to be "Barbarians") decided to open themselves to the possibility of a pact of peace with the Spaniards, sealed by a final, symbolic battle of honor.
The proposed day for the battle was July 25, a significant date for both parties. For the chichimecas, that day was when the constellation of Sagittarius was high on the horizon, which they saw as the "tree of life" (Tamoanchan). On the same day, the Spaniards celebrated the feast of Santiago (St. James), the patron saint of Spain.  
At dawn on that date, on the hill of Sangremal (Bad Blood), both groups began a fight without weapons, body to body. But spirits got overexcited and anything could happen. Then an eclipse of the sun occurred and a luminous cross appeared in the heavens, accompanied by the form of a person that the natives identified as Quetzalcoatl (god of creative acts) and the Spaniards as the Apostle Santiago. Everyone fell to their knees at the same time, as a loud voice was heard proclaiming "El es dios" | "He is God!"
The chichimecas raised a stone cross in the place (called the "Cross of Miracles") and executed their sacred dances to celebrate the event. Since then, this dance (called the Dance of the Conquest) has been danced in that place without interruption until the present. The expression "He is God!" has remained as an obligatory greeting among the Concheros. (Translated from Origin de las Danzas Religiosas, [Origin of the Religious Dances], link no longer available). 
The Franciscan friars, and friars of the other religious orders who subsequently arrived to convert the indigenous from their "pagan" beliefs and practices to Catholic ones (the so-called Spiritual Conquest, following the military one), banned indigenous dances using traditional drums and rattles as being "pagan" rites to gods who were "the Devil". However, following their strategy of allowing adaptation of indigenous rituals to Roman Catholic ones, the native people were taught to play European-style stringed instruments, such as the lute, and adapt their dances (mitote in Nahuatl) to Spanish Catholic symbolism. Thus modified, they could participate in church fiestas.

Following the Catholic structure of cofradías, confraternities, lay groups supporting church events, the people created formal dance groups. Maintaining indigenous tradition, membership was limited and handed down along family lines. The stringed concho instruments they play (in Mexican Spanish concho means a skin or peel of a fruit), were made from hard kins of native armadillos Traditionally, they wore simple white tunics, possibly modeled after priests' robes.

                  
Concheros in traditional dress.
(The origin of the use of ostrich feathers is another mystery.)

Members of la Corporación de Concheros Sociedades Unidas,
the Corporation of United Societies of Concheros,
which has existed in Mexico City since the 1920s.
Dancing at the Fiesta of the Holy Cross,


Comparsa (troupe) of Conchero dancers,

Throughout the Spanish Colonial era (1521-1823), concheros remained a phenomenon of las provincias, the predominantly rural and culturally more traditional areas outside of Mexico City. [Under Spanish rule, these regions were officially provinces; the term is still used informally by residents of the capital to refer to what are now states of the federal union.] It was only in the late 19th century that people moving into Mexico City from the countryside brought conchero dancing to the capital.

Syncretism as the Path to Survival


For many decades, the Conchero Dance, with its adaptation of indigenous dance to Catholic beliefs and symbols, provided a means among Mexican indigenous groups in Central Mexico to maintain their communal identity. Their answer to the Spanish Conquest was to embrace Catholicism and make it into their own Mexican version, what is called popular—i.e. the people's—Catholicism. Two Catholic saints, in particular, were vehicles for this syncretic solution. (See our Santos Populares, Saints of the People)

The Virgin of Guadalupe, Mother of Mexico, Mother of the Union of Religions and Cultures


Central to Mexicans' adaptation of indigenous beliefs and culture to Roman Catholicism is the adoration of the Virgin of Guadalupe. The Virgin of Guadalupe reverberates with the powers of Tonantzin, one manifestation of the Earth Mother. Appearing to (now Saint) Juan Diego, an indigenous peasant, at a temple site of Tonantzin and speaking Nahuatl, la morena (the dark-skinned) Virgin is the quintessential embodiment of the union of the two cultures.

Actually, our first major encounter with Conchero/Azteca dancers in a religious context was an accidental one at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Visiting on a Sunday, the first November we were living in Mexico City, and a month before the Virgin's feast day on December 12, we were caught completely by surprise to find the huge plaza in front of the Basilica full of dozens of groups and hundreds of such dancers, all simultaneously engaged in their dances and rituals. The air was filled with the cacophony of their drums and the scent of their incense (copal). They carried banners indicating they were each from a different pueblo in or near Mexico City.

At the time, we were completely puzzled by what was clearly a major occasion for the groups. It ended with them entering the Basilica in their full indigenous panoply to participate in a Catholic Mass held especially for them. We did not pursue resolving the puzzle until our encounters with such dancers in the various pueblos finally motivated us to do so.

Aztec dancers at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
On the banner is the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe.

(See our spouse's blog post: 


The Crucified Christ and Indigenous Sacrifice


The other primary figure in the joining of indigenous beliefs with Catholic ones is Jesus the Christ. He has a parallel with Huitzilopochtli, chief god of the Mexica/Azteca. Huitzilopochtli was also the miraculously conceived son of a god, Tonatiuh, God of the Fifth Sun, and he, like Jesus the Christ, was born at the winter solstice. As the crucified Son of God, Jesus also echos the centrality of sacrifice in the indigenous religion.

          
Crucified Christ as "The Lord of Miracles",
next to Coatlicue, another version of the Mother Goddess.

Displayed by a conchero/Azteca dance group at a fiesta honoring the Lord of Miracles,
in Colonia Ajusco, Delegación Coyoacán

In front of both gods sits an
ofrenda of flowers in the shape of a cross.
The cross is at once the Christian symbol of Jesus Christ's self-sacrifice,
reconciling sinful humans to God,
and the indigenous symbol of the four cardinal directions
that organize and orient us within our world.
The four candles also mark the cardinal directions.

The circle in the center represents our bounded human world.
The central candle is the axis mundial, world axis,
the vertical connection with the gods in the heavens.
As such, this symbolic construction is likely one of the oldest and most archetypical
symbols in human culture, going back to pre-historic, hunter-gatherer times.

"Conformidad y Union": "The conquest of the flower"


For the conchero groups, the joining of indigenous symbols and traditions with those of Spanish Roman Catholicism is a matter of pride, a representation of what they call "Conformidad y Union", active acceptance of and joining together with the faith and culture brought from Europe. They call it "la conquista de la flor", "the conquest of the flower", i.e., of the heart. 
(Interestingly, the Mexicas fought so-called "flower wars" with some of their neighboring peoples specifically for the purpose of taking captives who would be sacrificed to their gods, with the removal of their hearts as the central act. The Sacred Heart of Jesus is also an important symbol in Catholicism. See our: Mexican Fiestas As Sacred Play - Part II: Fiestas as Creative Acts of Cultural Transformation and Continuity.) 

"Union, Conformidad y Conquista"
("Joining together, Agreement and Conquest")
Banner of an Azteca dance group 
from the Pueblo Santiago (St. James) Tlatelolco.
at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Thus, as we have encountered concheros in many of the originally indigenous pueblos within Mexico City, we have come to realize that the Conchero/Azteca dance tradition is one of the main vehicles for the syncretism of the religious and spiritual traditions of two otherwise alien cultures.

From Concheros to Aztecas: From Merger of Cultures to Indigenous Identity


During the 20th century, reflecting both their long tradition and the events of 20th century Mexican history, the concheros evolved into the various versions that we have encountered in our ambles.

Historically, the Catholic Church, as a virtual arm of the Spanish crown, had great wealth and wielded much power in Nueva España. Much of its power continued after Mexico won its independence (1823), even after efforts by the Reform government of Benito Juárez in the mid-19th centry to diminish it.

For that reason, in the aftermath of the Mexican Revolution (1910-1917), the post-revolutionary government became increasingly anti-church. It repressed public religious displays, including fiestas and processions in the streets. The practice of Catholicism was restricted to the interior of churches and private homes. The government also attempted to forge a shared national identity, in part by glorifying the indigenous past, particularly the "Aztec Empire" and the Mayan civilization.

In this context, the conchero groups were faced with a crisis. Some groups—affiliated with the church and holding to the Catholic faith—continued to dance in secret. However, others adopted a secular form called Dance Mesas (Tables, i.e., organized commissions) and separated themselves from Catholic symbolism and rituals. They made their explicit purpose the preservation and transmission of the indigenous dances of Central Mexico's original peoples, and thereby, their traditions and identity.

In one of those very Mexican paradoxes arising from the syncretism of the two cultures, the attire these groups adopted is modeled on that portrayed in the codices compiled nearly five hundred years ago by Spanish monks, in collaboration with indigenous informants. The codices were created with the specific aim of preserving knowledge of the indigenous culture and finding commonalities with Catholic belief and practices that could be used as bridges to move the "pagans" from their beliefs to Catholicism. Thus, the codices were an explicit instrument in the strategy and tactics of the Spiritual Conquest.

Conchero in Aztec or Mexica dress,
Festival of the Virgin of Sorrows, Xaltocán
Delegación Xochimilco

Some of these groups eliminated the use of conchero instruments, as they were of European origin, and use only indigenous percussion instruments (drums, rattles, ankle bracelets made of dried seeds) and, sometimes, small wooden flutes. These groups adopted the name Azteca to make their indigenous roots explicit. As the name Aztec is one that was applied by foreign anthropologists to indigenous Nahuatl speakers in Central Mexico, other groups proudly declare that they are Mexica (Meh-SHE-kah), the original name of the residents of Tenochtitlan.

               


Over time, some groups broke their exclusive, hereditary membership and began to initiate members from the middle class. With this opening, the conchero dance ceased to be a more or less marginal phenomenon of the working class and became a medium for indigenous-based cultural and spiritual expression for broader sectors of Mexican society. (Wikipedia)

Contemporary mezcla, mixture


Gradually, through the mid to late 20th century, the government retreated from its suppression of the Catholic Church and its prohibition of public religious acts. Fiestas and their processions of saints through the streets of pueblos and barrios could be celebrated once again. The conchero groups that maintained their allegiance to the Catholic faith and its rituals were able to return to a public presence. During recent decades, differentiations between these traditional concheros, in their white tunics, and Azteca or Mexica dancers, in their indigenous dress, has been blurred.

In our visits to the original pueblos of Mexico City, we have encountered several variations of the conchero/Azteca/Mexica dancers. There are groups that wear variations of the destinctive, original white tunics. There are also concheros, playing the traditional lute instrument, but garbed in indigenous dress. Then, there are groups in indigenous dress and using only indigenous instruments, but still participating in Catholic fiestas. There are also groups who reject any connection with the Catholic Church and hold their ritual dances in parks and plazas around Mexico City.

Passing on a Living Tradition


In our encounters with each of the variations on Conchero/Azteca/Mexica dance groups, we are always amazed by the multi-generational composition of the participants. There are many adultos mayores, seniors, dancing with vigor. There are also many middle-aged and younger adults fully involved.

Moreover, it is very clear that the members are very invested in passing on their traditions to the next generations. Teenagers and younger children are very much included. One traditional, white-tunicked conchero we talked with proudly stated that he is the fifth generation in his family to belong to his group. He added that both his son and now a grandson are participants, making it seven generations!

               



                  

So, what we initially thought was an anachronistic performance for tourists in the Zócalo, we have discovered is a five-hundred-year-old tradition, a syncretistic solution to the confrontation between indigenous and Spanish Catholic cultures, expressed by the motto, "Union, Conformidad y Conquista". Over the years, particularly in the 20th century, it has been modified by political changes, shifts in the centrality of Catholicism to Mexican culture and the emergence of explicit movements to restore a presence and pride to indigenous identity. 

Nevertheless, a powerful cultural and spiritual force, legendarily released on a July day in 1531, on a mountain top in Querétero, is very much alive and well in Mexico City nearly five hundred years later. 


Saturday, November 18, 2017

Folk Dance in Mexico City

Mexican popular culture is distinguished by its exuberance. It is effusive, overflowing with enthusiasm, excitement (emoción), cheerfulness (alegría) and vigor (ánimo). It is full of energy, noise and bright colors. Nowhere is this more true than in Mexico's traditional folk dances.

Mexican folk dance.
Each state has its own distinctive, traditional style of dance and dress.
Here the style is that of the state of Tabasco,
on the southeastern coast of the Gulf of Mexico.

Dance of Los Viejitos, the Little Old Men
Michoacán

Zapoteca corn planting dance,
from the southern state of Oaxaca

Yucatán,
the eastern peninsula, separating the Caribbean from the Gulf of Mexico.

Note the Cuban influence. 

Jalisco,
on the Pacific coast:

Mexican Hat Dance

Veracruz,
on the western coast of the Gulf of Mexico

Folk Dance in the Big City


When we lived in the rural, small city of Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, there were two or three amateur folk dance companies, based in public schools, but with many adult members. They performed frequently and were excellent. As a balletomane—lover of the dance, in any form—their performances captivated us. When we moved to Mexico City, we knew the world-famous Ballet Folklórico de México was here, but we did not come across amateur groups like those in Pátzcuaro. That is, until recently.

At a couple of recent patron saint fiestas taking place in Mexico City's original villages—in San Pedro Tláhuac and Santa María Natividad—part of the festivities included performances by small, amateur folk dance companies. Being a balletomane, we took lots of photos, but apart from including a few in the Santa María post, we didn't know what to do with them.

Then, about two weeks ago, on our Facebook page, we saw an announcement of a series of performances by the Ballet Folklórico del Valle de México. the Folkloric Ballet of the Valley of Mexico. One performance was to be held on a Sunday afternoon in the central plaza of the southern Delegación Tlalpan—a picturesque, tranquil Spanish Colonial plaza with a small-town feeling. We visit it often to relax from the urban bullicio (hubbub) and enjoy a delicious, unhurried comida (afternoon meal) at one of the many restaurants lining the square.

Off to Delegación Tlalpan for Ballet Folklórico


So this past Sunday, we set off by taxi at about 11 AM in order to arrive at Tlalpan plaza before the 12 noon performance. When we arrive, we see the stage set on the stone esplanade in front of the ayuntamiento, headquarters of the delegación. A small audience is begining to occupy the plastic folding chairs set up for them.

The open-air stage is partially covered by a huge, bright yellow tarp, casting a yellow tint down the front of the stage; in contrast, the back of the stage is in the strong Mexican sun. Also in the background, reflecting and intensifying the sunlight, are white tents shading the puestos (stalls) where artesania, arts and crafts, are sold on the weekends.

Managing the strong lighting contrasts presents a genuine photographic challenge. Checking out several positions to find the best possible option, we settle on the corner at stage right, where the gray stone ayuntamiento partially provides a softer, more neutral background. We establish ourselves because we know that if we move away, some other photographer will take it. 

Soon, over a PA system (always loud in Mexico), an announcer calls primera llamada (yah-MAH-dah), first call. It is a tradition at Mexican performances to make a series of three llamadas, calls, to alert the audience to the approaching performance. The calls mirror the three llamadas sounded by the ringing of a church's bell before every Mass. In a few minutes, segunda llamada is made followed in short order by the tercera llamada. Lively music issues from the large speakers at each side of the stage (one right next to our ears!) and dancers enter the stage from steps at the rear. The show begins!

Danza Azteca




               
These two are real bailarín(a)s,
ballet-trained dancers!
Great balance, leg extension and pointed toes!
    
We also note a very young dancer (age 7? 8?)
fully into the dance.

These aren't the Aztec dancers we see at church fiestas or in the Zócalo. Obviously, their dance has been formally choreographed and costumed for a show. Folk dance performances often begin with this reference to the pre-Conquest Aztec culture.

Spanish Mexico 


The next dance transports us to post-Conquest Mexico and its transformation into an extension of Spain: full, colorful skirts over generous, white petticoats. 


La bailarina shines!

Indigenous, Purépecha Fisherman's Dance


Two young boys enact fish, to be caught by the local fishing community.

This transports us directly back to "our" Pátzcuaro and its Lake. The Lake is known for its special species of small white fish. The embroidery on one of the boys' pants is distinctively Purépecha. 

Going fishing.
The men's sombreros are also distinctively Purépecha,
as are the women's rebozos, shawls, 

The Catch!
The fish are then released, instead of being taken home to become a meal.

Dance of the Moors




The Dance of the Moors was the first folk dance we ever saw in Mexico, performed in a pueblo on the shore of Lake Pátzcuaro on the night of the Purépecha celebration of Nuevo Fuego, New Fire, the indigenous New Year, on February 1-2 (mid-winter). In that performance, the dancers wore long robes and capes; similar scarves covered their faces, and the tall hats they donned were somewhat different. 

The Dance of the Moors, like the Battle of the Moors and Christians that we have seen enacted at fiestas here in Mexico City, was introduced by the Franciscan friars to convey the message of the need for "pagans" to submit to Catholic Christian conversion, i.e., the Spiritual Conquest

Campesino Romance


Spanish influence is seen in a romantic pas de deux.
Indigenous dances are always religious rituals 

or celebrate humans' dependence on nature.
Here, the barefoot country maiden attracts the young farmer,
a universal story.

He shows off for the maiden with a balletic jeté.

The romance progresses.

Cowboys and Cowgirls: It's Hoedown Time!



Already, a dancer!
Geat arabesque!

Then the big boys and girls get into the act!
(Reminder: Cows and cowboys--and cowgirls--came to the United States
from Spain via Mexico (the original "Southwest")

"Spin your partner!"

Mexican Cossacks, or What?


Totally comsumed with finding and capturing "shots", we weren't able to attend to the announcements of each dance. Given the ankle rattles, this one is evidently indigenous, but we have no idea who these guys are portraying. Their moves remind us of Cossack dancers from a Russian ballet.
   



"White Ballet" of Veracruz


 




 
Two young dancers with potential 

On to the Mexican Revolution!


"Adelitas"
Women who fought with Pancho Villa in the Mexican Revolution.

People's army,
 with machetes and bandoliers;
an archetypical image in Mexican culture.


Beauty, Colorful Dresses and a Dance Where Girl Gets Boy, and Vice Versa


Little Señoritas


Las Señoras

Enter los chavos,
the guys,
in charro, fancy, Jalisco cowboy dress,
with machetes.

Showing off their stuff!

Classic ending:
boy gets girl, girl gets boy.

The Last Dance: Jarabe Tapatío | Mexican Hat Dance




                  

Final bow and ... 

... a tradition and an art are passed on.