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ABSTRACT:
In an inventory of genres and instruments of African heritage within
Dominican folk music, the most important is the constellation of
the palos long drums associated with Afro-Dominican religious brotherhoods
(cofradías). This paper surveys palos of the Dominican Republic
with regard to organology, ensemble, and musical style, and situates
the variants thereof geographically. The paper then discusses the
cofradías as performance contexts, a living legacy of colonial
society, defunct in many other sites of Afro-Latin America.

In juxtaposition
with neighboring Haiti-- a “black republic” by constitutional
definition since its establishment in 1804—the Dominican Republic
has defined itself as a white republic, touting “hispanidad”
(Hispanic heritage) as official cultural policy. As a general comparison,
there is some truth in this contrast. However, the vehemence of
the Dominican elite in rejecting everything African, black, and
Haitian, taken as synonymous, as an intrusive and tainting “Other,”
is an inaccurate representation of Dominican culture. In reality,
the Dominican Republic could best characterized as a “mulatto
society,” despite notable domains of cultural retentions of
both European and African origin.
However, what
exists ethnographically is not necessarily reflected in a consciousness
about it. The Dominican public is, in fact, unaware of elements
of both Taíno Indian and African heritage, both of which
contribute to what is perceived as “Dominican popular culture,”
part of everyday life. Members of the elite may pronunce against
Haitian infiltration (a common topic), between bites of rice with
pigeon peas garnished with fried plantain—a typically African
lunch.
My research
since 1972 has intended to balance the previously hispanically-slanted
documentation of traditional Dominican culture by emphasizing its
African-influenced component. My research has been followed by others—musicians
of a proliferation of Afro-Dominican music/dance ensembles of the
1990s to the present—in search for “material”
for staging a more inclusive sense of identity. The topic of the
current redefinition of Dominican identity through music is a fascinating
cultural phenomenon, in which expatriates in New York City are playing
a significant role.
But this is
a topic for another paper. My purpose in the present paper is ethnographic
documentation of the African cultural presence in the Dominican
Republic, which can then be used for various purposes, both scientific
and applied. My focus is the most African of Dominican traditional
music: the long-drums (“palos”): the instruments and
ensembles, their musical styles, and their social contexts of performance.
History
of the African musical presence in Santo Domingo
African heritage—both
racial and cultural—has been present throughout the island
since the earliest days of the colony. Its introduction into the
cultural fabric of what is today’s Dominican Republic has
occurred in three major phases:
1) During
the first two hundred years of European conquest, from 1492 to 1697,
when the entire island of Quisqueya (“Hispaniola”),
of five Taíno chiefdomships (cacicazgos) became Spain’s
first colony in the New World, Santo Domingo. A Taíno Indian/Spanish/African
tripartite heritage is thus the common denominator of the island
as a whole.
The first phase
of the African presence were “ladinos” (Christianized
blacks) from Spain, where Africans had resided for a hundred years
before 1492. Soon afterward, “bozales” (untamed) were
brought from Africa itself, first from the Senegambia region, and
later from points increasingly south. After France was ceded the
western third of the island in 1697, which became its colony of
St.-Domingue, the cultural trajectories diverged due to the differing
demographies—with a million Africans brought to St.-Domingue
in the 18th century while Santo Domingo languished underdeveloped
and underpopulated. The ethnic origins as well as numbers of African
slaves also diverged, such that today’s Haitian culture is
more Benin-region influenced whereas Dominican culture represents
a greater Congo-Angolan presence, the source of slaves when the
trade was cut off in the early 1800s.
2) During
the Haitian occupation of Santo Domingo, 1822-44.
In a gesture
of freeing the entire island of European domination, Haiti occupied
Santo Domingo in 1822, such that the whole island was the Republic
of Haiti for twenty-two years. During this time, President Boyer
resettled Haitians in underdeveloped areas of the island, with land
titles. And of course there was no border, allowing population to
flow from the more populated Haiti to the underpopulated Santo Domingo.
It is very probable that all or many of the local religious brotherhoods
based on family lineages in the Central-South (Provinces of Peravia,
San Cristóbal, and the Distrito Nacional), date to settlements
from that period. The oral history of two important ones in fact
attribute their origin to Haiti: the brotherhood of St. John the
Baptist (San Juan Bautista) of Baní, Province of Peravia,
which plays the music called “Sarandunga,” unique in
the Republic; and the brotherhood of Our Lady of Sorrows (Nuestra
Señora de los Dolores—“La Dolorita”) of
Paraje Los Morenos, Sección San Felipe, Villa Mella). It
is possible that the notable ethnic differences among rural communities
in the Province of San Cristóbal, each with different styles
of drumming—the most complex and notable being the brotherhood
of the Holy Spirit (El Espíritu Santo) of Santa María—may
also date from this period.
However, extended-family
religious/musical enclaves founded during this time are undoubtedly
intermixed with others founded previously and under different circumstances,
such as by resettled runaway slaves (cimarrones). The latter is
my hypothesis with regard to the founding the brotherhood of the
Holy Spirit in Villa Mella, who play the “Congos” a
musical style, repertoire, and instrumentation unique in the Republic.
3) During
the mid-late 20th century and the rise of the modern sugarcane industry.
During the late
nineteenth and early twentieth century, the sugarcane industry,
which flourished in colonial times, expanded in the Dominican Southeast.
An imported labor force was drawn from the Anglophone Caribbean,
most notably from the British Virgin Islands (called cocolos, sometimes
despectively). These were Protestant people. So their contribution
to Afro-Dominican music was not in the sacred domain, but rather
the secular: the fife-and-drum ensembles associated with the “mummers,”
street-theatre revelers associated with the Christmas season, in
the town of San Pedro de Macorís. (Such ensembles are also
found among Afro-Americans in the U.S. South, such as Mississippi.)
In the southwestern
province of Barahona during the First U.S. Occupation (1916-24),
and in the central-south area east and west of the Capital during
the dictatorship of Rafael Leónidas Trujillo (1930-61), new
sugarcane plantations on the one hand, and revitalized plantations
on expropriated land on the other, utilized seasonal laborers (braceros)
from Haiti. Haitians brought with them vodoun and rará. The
former are the well-known healing societies characterized by spirit
possession, with major subdivisions: the Rada, Congo, and Petro
families of deities and differences in instruments and musical styles.
The latter are Lenten-period vow-based religious societies which
celebrate life, death, and—as part of the celebration of life--human
fertility, utilizing Petro drums plus an ensemble of one-note bamboo-tube
trumpets (in Spanish, bambúces or fotutos).
The continued
presence of Haitians in the Dominican Republic—of over a million
residents who have come and stayed—have influenced the current
flourishing of Dominican vodú, the counterpart of Haitian
vodoun and influenced by it. (Note: The term vodú is used
only by Dominican scholars and definitely not by practicioners,
for whom it rings of “Haitian black magic.”) The growth
of vodú is also attributable to the relaxation of enforcement
of proscriptive edicts. In addition, rará (pronunced by Dominicans
as “gagá”) is found in many cane settlements
(bateyes) throughout the Republic as well as in the border town
of Elías Piña. In locales such as Haina (site of a
major port and sugarmill just west of the Capital) second- or third-generation
Haitian-Dominicans now sing gagá in Spanish. Thus, the genre
is becoming a form of Afro-Dominican music. However, this paper
focuses upon the older Afro-Dominican traditions of the long-drums.
The
African Presence in the Dominican Sociocultural Composition
We must take
care to recognize an increasing non-correspondence between race
and culture in the New World, of great population movements and
of cultural amalgamation, in contrast with the co-occurrence of
specific physical and cultural features in world areas inhabited
by the same population for millenia. Hence the previous comment
about the Dominican elite of African palate but Hispanicist ideology.
For what is considered general Dominican popular culture is in fact
notably African-influenced, although unbeknownst to its practicioners.
Nonetheless,
there are different cultural realities in the Dominican Republic—and
practically any other modern nation—based on three factors:
region, rural or urban location, and social class. With regard to
class, the oligarchy (the landed elite) are white and endogamous,
the upper-middle class are white or light, and the lower-middle
class and lower class and peasantry vary according to the region.
The peasantry of the southern region and the border area with Haiti
are mostly black and African-influenced; those of the Cibao Valley
(north), mostly Hispanic; and those of the eastern region, mixed.
The cities and towns are traditionally white, ringed with black
communities in the case of the Capital and southern towns—a
settlement pattern determined by economics and reinforced by racism.
However, this pattern is changing with rural-to-urban migration,
the tremendous influx of peasants into towns and secondary cities,
and the general influx into the Capital and beyond—to New
York and elsewhere abroad.
It is within
the rural areas of the southwest, the central-east, and the eastern
Cibao, as well as La Línea (the northwest border area with
Haiti) that the most notable African presence, racially and culturally,
is found—probably representing the most recent stratum of
African and Haitian (indirectly African) input into the national
configuration.
Afro-Dominican
Musical Genres
Dominican genres
of notably African heritage include metered, responsorial work songs
(plenas), such as wood-chopping songs (plenas de hacha); stories
about animals, with their characteristic little sung responses;
the semi-sacred music of longdrums (palos, atabales), the focus
of this paper, associated with Afro-Dominican religious brotherhoods
and used in saints’ festivals (velaciones) and sometimes vodú
ceremonies; non-liturgical Salves (the Salve Regina prayer set to
music) performed at saints’ festival altars; the cocolo fife-and-drum
ensembles; and the Haitian-Dominican gagá society ensembles.
The
Performance Context of Dominican Palos
Dominican long-drums
or palos (also atabales) are associated with Afro-Dominican religious
brotherhoods (cofradías, hermandades). These are a medieval
Mediterranean phenomenon: guild-based societies, each associated
with a parish. They are well-documented among the Africans in southern
Spain of the fifteenth century, and undoubtedly there was continuity
among the “ladinos” (Christianized Africans) in Hispaniola
since their arrival ca. 1502. The Mediterranean cofradías,
solely of males with rotating leadership positions, was reinterpreted
by blacks in Hispaniola, and perhaps earlier in Spain. Likewise,
the phenomenon was replicated elsewhere in Spanish and Portuguese
Catholic Afro-Latin America, including the cofrarias of colonial
coastal Brazil. In Cuba, they were known as cabildos (literally,
“city hall” or “city government”). The cofradía
was also incorporated into Spanish-dominated society of indigenous
America, representing another sort of cultural reinterpretation.
In Afro-Latin America, the cofradía served as a mutual aid
society—including the important function as a burial society—among
a social sector marginalized from social services and economic productivity.
In Spanish and
Portuguese Afro-America, the cofradía was a feature of colonial
society prior to the abolition of slavery; today, the cofradía
has died out virtually everywhere because the Afro-Latin American
sector has had increasing access to social services. The exception
is in the Dominican Republic, where we are viewing living remnants
of colonial society. They are found in the more African-influenced
areas of the country (most areas except the central Cibao), each
geographically specific.
Again, I would
argue that the origins appear to vary—some dating from colonial
times, others from the early nineteenth century when the border
was suspended.
Today’s
Afro-Dominican brotherhoods are family-based lineages of both males
and females, with female leadership in inherited positions (mother
to eldest daughter), whose patron saints have African-deity correspondences,
and whose “voice” is represented by the long drums and
the sound of their music. The slave trade to Hispaniola was drawn
from incrasingly southerly points on the West African coast: first
from Senegambia, later from Congo. Incomplete historical data suggest
a changing predominance in patron saint of cofradías: In
the eighteenth century, the most common patron saint was St. John
the Baptist, whereas in the nineteenth century, the Holy Spirit
had apparently taken over predominance, although using the same
icon as that for St. John. This suggests intra-African syncretism,
undoubtedly replicated in other aspects of Afro-Dominican folk religion,
such as in the music.
The Afro-Dominican
cofradía is active during the entire year, but most active
for its patron saint’s festival and for death rituals for
its members. The specifics vary according to the cofradía
with regard to the patron saint, how he/she is celebrated, and the
specific death rituals emphasized—and the degree to which
death itself is emphasized. Those brotherhoods celebrating the Holy
Spirit, may celebrate on the Fridays of “Small Lent,”
the seven-week period between Easter and Pentecost. An enclave in
Villa Mella, just north of the Capital (discussed below), which
play the ensemble called the “Congos,” are the cofradía
most dedicated to death rituals. They celebrate primarily the rezo,
the ninth night of the novena following burial (which serves as
a “second burial” --of the spritual remains, as it were),
and the banco, or anniversary of death.
In addition,
individually-sponsored, annually recurring saints’ festivals,
may assume the structure of a cofradía in miniature, activated
once a year. This is particularly prominent in the Central-Eastern
area, where the larger cofradías are not found. The festival
leadership structure of “king” and “queen”-for-a-day,
the use of the long drums, and other features, replicate the social
organization and music of the larger cofradías.
In the South-Central
region, the main drum rhythms—palo abajo and palo arriba—are
originally for the dead, hence are lugubrious. As a sort of compensation,
the gaity is expressed in the altar music, in which musical settings
of the Salve Regina prayer, include an Africanized variant in which
various small membranophones— panderos (hand drums), the mongó,
and others--are played polyrhythmically. These non-liturgical Salves,
which often lose all or most of the sacred text, are played after
the rosary and three sacred Salves de la Virgen (which are antiphonal
and unmetered). This setting of the non-liturgical Salve is in fact
another sort of drumming ensemble, which may be played simultaneously
with the long drums, although at another spatial site: the Salves
in front of the altar, the palos outside in the enramada, or rooved
patio.
Afro-Dominican
Palos Sacred Drum Music
The palos (
“tree” in colloquial Spanish) or atabales (from the
Arabic tabl) are membranophones made of hollowed-out logs, generally
with single cowhide heads (except in two enclaves, discussed below).
They are played in ensembles of two or three, varying regionally,
with optional idiophones: metal scrapers (güiras), hand rattles
(maracas, single or double), or a stick beaten on the body of the
master drum (catá, maraca). All are hand-beaten and accompany
singing. The larger and deeper drum is the master drum (palo mayor),
in ensembles of three flanked by the smaller drums, generally called
alcahuetes (literally, “pimps”).
In the East,
the palos are wide and with pegged heads, played in pairs; whereas
in the South, the palos ensemble is three, with tacked heads, wide
in the Southwest and narrow in the Central-South. There are further
micro-regional variations with regard to size, shape, use and number
of idiophones, and rhythms. The two major enclaves are the Brotherhood
of the Holy Spirit of Villa Mella which play a drum ensemble called
the Congos—a set of two double-headed drums, one a third the
size of the other; and the Brotherhood of St. John the Baptist of
Baní, which play the “Sarandunga” on a set of
three squat drums held between the knees in seated position or under
the arm for procession.
Drums are played
for saints’ festivals—of cofradías and festivals
of individual, vow-based sponsorship (velaciones)—and for
the dead. The rhythms are usually different. On the whole, there
are only one or two piece types for saints’ festivals and
dance, with regard to rhythm and often tune as well; the variation
is in the text, which is improvised in call-and-response structure
with a spontaneously rotating solo. In the text, even for dance,
there tend to be frequent references to death and the ancestors.
Drum dance,
baile de palos, is a couple dance symbolizing ritual pursuit, in
which a balancing step is alternated with a circular step, first
in one direction, then in the other. In the case of death rituals,
the spirit of the deceased may dance in the person of an heir.
Conclusion
I offer this
introduction to Afro-Dominican palos and palos music not as yet
more material on a pile of descriptive ethnography. Rather, I offer
this documentation as a contribution to the basis of identity and
the redefinition of national identity to include the African heritage.
In the Dominican Republic, there are periodic seminars on “national
identity.” However, they have no impact because they are based
on sentiments without data. In a larger, Caribbean and Latin American
frame of reference, I offer a Dominican building block of regional
identity. The intentions behind my small contribution from the Dominican
Republic have been replicated on a grand scale in Cuba by a multi-person
team over ten years, which published a three-volume atlas of Cuban
musical instruments, as part of their results (Instrumentos de la
música folklórico-popular de Cuba, Victoria Eli Rodríguez,
ed., 1997) which I reviewed for Ethnomusicology – see the
forthcoming issue. This is a model of what teamwork over time can
achieve. In the Anglophone Caribbean, you may be aware of the new
research center for the Lesser Antilles, the Alton Augustus Adams
Center on St. Thomas, a field station of the Center for Black Music
Research at Columbia College Chicago. During this conference and
my stay in Guadeloupe, I am learning about what you are doing here.
I hope my words and intention may serve as inspiration for your
work in the French West Indies, as your work will undoubtedly be
inspirational for mine.
It is important
that each of us, in our respective corners of the Caribbean, continue
individually and, if possible, collectively, document traditions
as fully as possible, for both scientific and applied purposes,
the latter in benefit of the people of the respective places including
the musicians themselves. At the same time, it is also important
for us to join together, in publications and in encounters such
as this one, graciously facilitated by the Espace Musique Chano
Pozo of the Médiathèque Caraïbe Bettino Lara,
under the coordination of Gustav Michaux-Vignes, with great efforts
toward overcoming the linguistic barriers which divide the Caribbean.
Such events help us understand the themes and the variations in
Caribbean musical traditions—the most significant theme and
common denominator of course being the African cultural influence
throughout the region.
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