Corn dancers, Kachinas bring rain...
Almost every pueblo in New Mexico holds a Corn Dance in the summer, and as a result of the influence of Spanish missionaries, it is usually held on the feast day of the village's patron saint (a list of dances for 2010 is here.)
Why a dance? Why not call it a "ritual," a "service" or "Mass"? To Pueblos and other American Indians, rhythmic movement and music are essential components to their religious observances. Weeks of preparation and private ritual always culminate in the grand public event, The Dance.
Dances have many variations, reflecting the differences among the many Pueblo groups themselves, but usually involving lines of dancers moving in a constantly changing zigzag pattern, making gestures that are prayer offerings to the Corn Mother: they lower their arms for the lowering clouds, move their arms in a zig-zag motion for lightning, lower their palms for rain, and lift their hands for the growing stalks of corn. Both sexes participate, the women wearing headdresses called tablitas, thin wooden boards cut in terraced cloud patterns and pierced or painted with the sun, the moon and the stars. Their hair, usually bound in a squash blossom hairdo or braided, hangs loose in imitation of long wisps of summer rain that sweeps the land. Tablitas symbolize the special connection that women have with the Corn Mother.
Corn Mother, also called Corn Woman and Corn Maiden, is perhaps the most important deity in Pueblo mythology. Life began with a Corn Mother, who planted all the flora and fauna in the universe. Newborn children are given a perfect ear of corn, their own personal Corn Mother, which they keep for life, the dried kernels a continual reminder of this connection of heritage.
In the Pueblo Corn Dance, Koshares, "Delight Makers," impudent holy clowns, pantomime the dancers with exaggerated gestures. Between dances, they indulge in ribald horseplay, much to the delight of spectators and the chagrin of their "victims". Koshares have a more practical function as well, performing services like making needed adjustments and repairs to the dancers clothing. They are representatives of spirits of the departed who possess much power to bring rain clouds and influence the growth of crops.
Koshares are not to be confused with Kachinas, however. Kachinas are not gods (as commonly supposed) but symbolic representations in humanlike form, of the spirits of nature and the ancestors. There are over 300 different Kachinas and, although Hopi and Zuni of the western Pueblo tribes have the most, they are a part of the ceremonials of all Pueblo people.
Children are given carved cottonwood dolls that look like Kachinas to play with, so that they would not be frightened when they saw men in the tribe dress like the Kachinas during ceremonies. Once a boy turns 13, he is invited to the kiva where the identity of the Kachinas is revealed to him. Girls are not brought to the kiva, but they are also told the secret of the Kachinas.
The next day, we got back on Hwy 68 to go white water rafting on the Rio Grande, and afterward on our way back to Albuquerque, we got out of the car to take some scenic pictures. I turned around to find I was being followed by an old but very beautiful white mare, her mane shining bright in the evening sun. Bob said it was my Spirit Horse, but she actually belonged with the niece of a Taos pueblo shopkeeper.
Dances have many variations, reflecting the differences among the many Pueblo groups themselves, but usually involving lines of dancers moving in a constantly changing zigzag pattern, making gestures that are prayer offerings to the Corn Mother: they lower their arms for the lowering clouds, move their arms in a zig-zag motion for lightning, lower their palms for rain, and lift their hands for the growing stalks of corn. Both sexes participate, the women wearing headdresses called tablitas, thin wooden boards cut in terraced cloud patterns and pierced or painted with the sun, the moon and the stars. Their hair, usually bound in a squash blossom hairdo or braided, hangs loose in imitation of long wisps of summer rain that sweeps the land. Tablitas symbolize the special connection that women have with the Corn Mother.
Corn Mother, also called Corn Woman and Corn Maiden, is perhaps the most important deity in Pueblo mythology. Life began with a Corn Mother, who planted all the flora and fauna in the universe. Newborn children are given a perfect ear of corn, their own personal Corn Mother, which they keep for life, the dried kernels a continual reminder of this connection of heritage.
In the Pueblo Corn Dance, Koshares, "Delight Makers," impudent holy clowns, pantomime the dancers with exaggerated gestures. Between dances, they indulge in ribald horseplay, much to the delight of spectators and the chagrin of their "victims". Koshares have a more practical function as well, performing services like making needed adjustments and repairs to the dancers clothing. They are representatives of spirits of the departed who possess much power to bring rain clouds and influence the growth of crops.
Koshares are not to be confused with Kachinas, however. Kachinas are not gods (as commonly supposed) but symbolic representations in humanlike form, of the spirits of nature and the ancestors. There are over 300 different Kachinas and, although Hopi and Zuni of the western Pueblo tribes have the most, they are a part of the ceremonials of all Pueblo people.
Children are given carved cottonwood dolls that look like Kachinas to play with, so that they would not be frightened when they saw men in the tribe dress like the Kachinas during ceremonies. Once a boy turns 13, he is invited to the kiva where the identity of the Kachinas is revealed to him. Girls are not brought to the kiva, but they are also told the secret of the Kachinas.
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It was a bit difficult to decide whether to attend the St John feast day dances at the namesake San Juan pueblo or Taos, but I'm glad we chose Taos, because it happened to be the same day that Robert Mirabal gave a free concert at the Taos plaza! It was a huge crowd gathered, and my husband Bob hung out toward the back, but I was up there dancing with a few brave souls right next to the stage. Mirabal asked himself aloud if he was in the company of Catholics celebrating the feast of San Juan, but concluded that we were all a bunch of Pagans! Doubtful, but no one objected, everybody was spellbound by the music.The next day, we got back on Hwy 68 to go white water rafting on the Rio Grande, and afterward on our way back to Albuquerque, we got out of the car to take some scenic pictures. I turned around to find I was being followed by an old but very beautiful white mare, her mane shining bright in the evening sun. Bob said it was my Spirit Horse, but she actually belonged with the niece of a Taos pueblo shopkeeper.
"Spirit Horse"
