Dealing with the devil: meaning and the marketplace in Makonde sculpture.

In 1970 the Grosvenor Gallery in London exhibited "Makonde Sculpture," a collection of ebony wood carvings produced mostly by Mozambican migrants living in Tanzania. Writing on the exhibition, Dennis Duerden protested that although those he facetiously identified as "authorities" on African art had praised the work,

   [t]hey have not produced any evidence
   ... that [modern Makonde
   sculpture] serves any purpose in
   the traditional framework of African
   religion. Perhaps these sculptures
   represent spirits, but they are
   not used as vehicles for spirits to
   enter. Instead, they are sold to
   tourists. They are not kept in
   shrines and smeared with blood
   and feathers, but they do appear at
   airports and are carried around by
   traders. Looking at them we are
   immediately aware of the kind of
   art which could be used for amusing
   after-dinner jokes or discussed
   at bars in clubs. This work is the
   coffee planters' "modern art."

   (Duerden 1970:76)

Duerden's scorn was echoed almost twenty years later in an editorial by Eddie Chambers following the opening of "Makonde: Wooden Sculptures from East Africa from the Malde Collection" at the Museum of Modern Art in Oxford--even if Chambers was more critical of the tourists buying "tourist art," and of the museum curators exhibiting it, than he was of its producers:

   When African carvers realized that
   Europeans didn't consider themselves
   to have been to Africa unless
   they brought back "tribal
   artefacts," they (the carvers) began
   to knock out carvings by the crate
   load. Any production-line foreman
   would be proud of these carvers,
   who have responded to an insatiable
   demand for their work by
   literally mass producing it.

   (Chambers 1989:19)

Where Duerden was concerned with the inauthenticity of Makonde sculpture as an expression of tradition, Chambers alleged that mock primitivism rendered these works insignificant as modern art.

Laudatory reviews have certainly outweighed dismissive ones over the past few decades. E. P. Njau, director of the Kibo Art Gallery in Kilimanjaro, Tanzania, suggested in his foreword to J. Anthony Stout's Modern Makonde Sculpture that "[a] close study of [the book] will reveal latent seeds of an artistic renaissance in East Africa" (Stout 1966:viii). According to Jean Libman Block, "Despite their total orientation to the marketplace, these sculptures are original, unique, vibrant, powerful, fanciful, uninhibited, and altogether astonishing" (1971:31).

Others have commented directly upon the issues of patronage and market influence which have seemed constantly to challenge the reputations of these artists. In her article "Patronage and Maconde Carvers," Sidney Littlefield Kasfir asserted that patronage had negligible "feedback effect" on their artistic production, being limited to positive and negative reinforcement on works already made (1980:68). (1) Megchelina Shore-Bos has said that "... artists such as the Makonde, rooted in their African heritage, simply absorb influences from anywhere, adapting and molding them to their own uses and needs, and in the process, remaining essentially and dominantly African" (1969:80).

Like the genre's harsher critics, however, these commentators have remained concerned with the "authenticity" of the sculpture in the polluting context of the marketplace. (2) Walter Battiss, himself an advocate of these works, hinted that their powerful expressiveness derives in part from the isolation in which the Makonde existed until only recently (1970:70). Such assessments allow other commentators easily to accuse Makonde sculptors of pandering to the market in cases where they do not work in isolation and when they do achieve recognition and financial reward. Makonde artists share this dilemma with counterparts in other world regions and at other historical moments, but they are judged according to a more static standard than their Western peers: they are expected by diverse elements within their audience to remain true not to themselves but to some larger force vaguely defined as "their culture."

In this article we challenge the persistence of polar descriptors such as "authentic" and "commercial" in assessments of contemporary Makonde artistic production. We also argue against the deeper dichotomy between "traditional" and "modern" which lingers beneath the surface of even supportive commentary on the sculpture. (3) These false divides obscure the essential dynamic of its historical reproduction and evolution. (4) Makonde carvers have found patrons for their works for nearly a century, including Portuguese administrators, Indian shopkeepers, and Dutch Catholic missionaries in the colonial period, FRELIMO and the international solidarity networks which supported the guerrilla movement during the war for Mozambican independence, and, beginning in the 1950s and continuing into the present, commercial art dealers, tourists, and international development workers.

Following E. P. Njau, we believe that expanding patronage over the past century has acted as a catalyst for a kind of Makonde artistic renaissance. It has provided sculptors with a steady income and permitted them to make of their work a profession to which they could devote their fullest energies and attentions. These factors, combined with increasing competition among artists, have led to noticeable improvements in the quality of works produced and to increased social status for master artists.

At the same time, for the Makonde carver, patronage in its various forms has always been situated within a broader historical context. Colonialism, missionization, the war for independence, and state socialism have all transformed the lived experience as well as the "traditions" of those who carve. As elsewhere in the world, "tradition" among the Makonde has been sustained and continuously redefined upon an ever-changing substrate. Consequently, as Michael Stephen has argued, "Changes over the years in the style and form of the sculpture produced by the Makonde have mirrored economic and political changes experienced by the Makonde people" (1990:106).

Had the works of these sculptors not undergone creative transformations over the past century, their art would have become anachronistic--rendered meaningless, if not to consumers further afield, at least to the artists themselves and the communities in which they live. Quite clearly, and fortunately, it has not. Stout's opinions on the matter are as relevant today as they were when he wrote on the subject three decades ago: "[Today's Makonde artist] discovers new ways to express his heritage, thereby establishing continuities between past and present in terms that satisfy both his economic and emotional needs" (Stout 1966:13). (5) Beyond this, these sculptors have, to use the artist Chanuo Maundu's favorite term, "astonished" themselves (see Kingdon 1996) and their audiences over recent decades, all the while dealing with "devils" both foreign and familiar. (6)

A Brief History of Makonde Sculpture and Patronage

Precolonial Carving Genres

The precolonial Makonde carver was first and foremost a farmer, dedicating time to carving only in the off-season or during periods of rest. Carving was undertaken primarily to satisfy an individual's need for a specific utilitarian object or the community's need for a piece for a particular social occasion (Kingdon 1994:97). Makonde then lived in dispersed settlements in the plateau area some 60 kilometers inland from the northern Mozambican coastal town of Mocimboa de Praia. Each settlement was composed of a small number of households headed by men belonging to a matrilineal kinship unit called a likola. A likola was said to derive from a common female ancestor, revered as a life-giver and protector, who was represented by figurines only a few inches tall. Carved from soft woods such as njala or mpapwa, the images were embellished with traditional body decoration (Fig. 1): the face and torso had geometrical designs representing scarification, and the upper lip exhibited the lipplug (ndona) worn by Makonde women of the time. People often carried such carvings with them on long journeys. For example, a man going out to hunt might have tied one to his back or hip to protect him from danger (Shore-Bos 1969:48-49; Jasienski 1973:194).

[FIGURE 1 OMITTED]

Other carvings served educational purposes. One of the most important events in the life of a Makonde was initiation. During this intensive months-long ritual, girls and boys were provided with knowledge and skills essential to the Makonde way of life (Dias & Dias 1970:162-241). Carvings sometimes functioned as teaching tools in this context. Two figures in the 1989 "Makonde" exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in Oxford (Fig. 2) were reportedly used to portray to initiates the devastating results of a lifestyle that is counterproductive to, or disrespectful of, Makonde social values (Coote 1989:17). The pair's sunken stomachs signal bodies ravaged by disease. The single ear, grossly enlarged, symbolizes their failure to listen to the advice given by their elders. (7)

[FIGURE 2 OMITTED]

Perhaps the most important carving used in initiation ceremonies--the one for which precolonial Makonde sculptors are best known--was the mapiko mask, which was worn over the top of the head, tilted back so the wearer could look out through the mouth (Fig. 3). Usually made of njala wood and painted brown, the mask was intended to be a realistic representation (Kingdon 1994:51): human hair was pasted onto the mask, thin rolls of beeswax were applied to simulate scarification (Mohl 1990, vol. 1:24; Coote 1989:17), and teeth were sometimes sharpened into points, following the actual practice of the time. The mask was carved by a member of a men's secret society and was danced by another of these members at ceremonies for new initiates. The dancer masqueraded as a deceased person's spirit, mysterious and terrifying. Only initiated men knew that he was a living member of the community.

[FIGURE 3 OMITTED]

Among the utilitarian objects produced in precolonial times were ornamental staffs (Fig. 4), stools, and figurative containers for snuff, medicine, and gunpowder. The carver made them for himself for fellow Makonde, or for trade with Indian merchants on the coast, but in any case he could not make a living producing these objects (Kingdon 1994:52-53). Initial Portuguese interest in, and patronage of, Makonde carving may have been stimulated by viewing any or all of these types of utilitarian works.

[FIGURE 4 OMITTED]

Colonial and Post-Independence Developments

The first of these carvings made specifically for Portuguese patrons can be dated to the mid- to late 1920s. During the early colonial period, Makonde women were taxed, and those who did not have a tax receipt risked being imprisoned by colonial officials until they were "paid for." Women wore their receipts around their necks, suspended in vials for which carvers began to fashion stoppers. These stoppers, generally in the form of human heads, soon won the admiration of the Portuguese, who at first sought to "buy" them from the women they taxed (Kingdon 1994:59; West 1997:75-76), and then started to commission these and other works (Fig. 5). Liking their possessions to be durable, they asked carvers to work in the harder, darker ebony (mpingo) found in the lowlands around the plateau. (8) Far from corrupting Makonde sculpting, the shift to mpingo--with its dense grain--allowed artists to advance their technical skills and to obtain finely detailed results (Kingdon 1994:60). (9)

[FIGURE 5 OMITTED]

Most agree that the first carver to produce objects explicitly for sale to the Portuguese was Nyakenya Nang'undu, who lived in the Miula region near the western edge of the Mueda plateau. (10) As was typically the case, Nyakenya was primarily a farmer. As the demand grew, however, he took to sculpting full-time. Asked by the Portuguese for "tribal" objects, he obliged. What colonial officials may not have realized is that Nyakenya and other carvers developed commercial versions of ritual objects. Such trade pieces became highly stylized, showing little of the naturalism of precolonial works. Scarification on mapiko masks intended for sale, for example, was incised into the wood rather than being formed of carefully applied wax (11); real hair gave way to illusionistic strokes of the carving tool (e.g., see ill. in Korn 1974:52).

The Portuguese also commissioned simple carved figures, giving rise to a genre which came to be called binadamu. Binadamu-style sculptures were realistic depictions of Makonde people in their day-to-day pursuits: a man seated, smoking a pipe (Fig. 6); women with pots and gourds fetching water (e.g., see Association Francaise d'Action Artistique 1989:134-36); a man making an offering to his ancestral spirits (Fig. 7). Figures of lions, elephants, and other animals were also commissioned. Although binadamu carvings reinforced the Western stereotype of the idyllic African life, they also challenged carvers to adopt new techniques and refine their skills for mimetic representation (Kingdon 1994:60; Coote 1989:18). Eventually Portuguese administrators began approaching carvers with photographs of people. (12) The Western-style busts resulting from these commissions constituted a new although not altogether unfamiliar genre to Makonde carvers already adept in the production of bottle stoppers in the form of human heads (Kingdon 1994:63, pls. 25, 26).

[FIGURES 6-7 OMITTED]

In 1924 the first Catholic missionaries arrived on the plateau. At first they met with resistance, but in time they were able to offer a number of tangible incentives to converts, including good working conditions and pay, educational opportunities, and access to rudimentary Western medical care. Carvers, too, reaped the rewards of association with the church through substantial commissions. The church introduced a wealth of new images--including saints, the Madonna, and the Crucifixion--and provided incentives for the incorporation of these Christian symbols into the carvers' expressive repertoire (see ill. in Hayes 1977:32-35). These artists came to enjoy privileged status in Makonde society as demand grew within the church for their work.

These and other carvings produced during this time were clearly departures from the objects--functional and ceremonial--of the precolonial era. They represented sculptors' sensible adaptations to changing social and economic conditions. Portuguese rule and missionization became a part of Makonde life, and although artistic creations bore the marks of foreign influences, they also represented the lived experiences of Makonde as these influences contributed to historical transformations within the society itself.

During the late colonial period--a period including the Mozambican war for independence--the binadamu theme of an idyllic African life was increasingly replaced by the theme of oppression. One common subject was two Africans transporting a reclining colonial official in a machila, a hammock on a pole (Duarte 1987: fig. 13); another was a man or woman, bound, being taken away by a cipaio (an African policeman) for a beating (Association Francaise d'Action Artistique 1989:142).

Makonde carvers in this period also caricatured their oppressors, whether the dictatorial Portuguese head of state, the colonial officer, or the cipaio. One local cipaio had a damaged eye, and sculptors in the area incorporated this feature into carvings of him--sometimes done in the form of mapiko masks (Stephen 1990:111) (Fig. 8).

[FIGURE 8 OMITTED]

Throughout the late colonial period, many Makonde fled the Portuguese regime, taking refuge in what was then Tanganyika across the Rovuma River border. There, having witnessed African nationalism culminate in 1961 in Tanganyikan independence from British rule, they supported and participated in the formation of FRELIMO (Front for the Liberation of Mozambique). As refugees living in the new state of Tanzania, many carvers continued their work.

After initiating its guerrilla campaign against the Portuguese in 1964, FRELIMO took concerted steps to ensure that artists remaining in the Mozambican interior continued their work as well. The Front eventually organized cooperatives for sculptors that allowed them to obtain their timber supply collectively, keep their costs down, and work and bargain together to earn a better price. (13) Some sculptures were marketed through the international solidarity networks which supported the FRELIMO campaign. Proceeds were used sometimes to support the FRELIMO organization and sometimes merely to meet the needs of sculptors and their families, but, in any case, international marketing drew world attention and sympathy to the Mozambican nationalist cause. This patronage ensured the production of works most supportive of the nationalist objective. Those expressing opposition to Portuguese rule would become images of popular resistance and, eventually, part of a Mozambican national consciousness (Alpers 1983, 1989; Stephen 1990).

Prominent among the stylistic innovations supported by FRELIMO patronage was a genre which came to be referred to as ujamaa. These sculptures depict a group of entwined figures standing, sitting, crouching, or hanging (Fig. 9). Anywhere from one to eight feet tall, ujamaa towers reflect the shape of the log from which they are carved. The figures may emerge from the wood in shallow or deep relief, or the center may be hollowed out, leaving only a tubular latticework of figures.

[FIGURE 9 OMITTED]

Complex and technically difficult, the power of ujamaa towers lies in the social bond they represent and the communal values they assert (Alpers 1989:83). Ujamaa is the Kiswahili term for "socialism" that was employed by the Tanzanian (formerly Tanganyikan) government, which hosted the FRELIMO guerrilla organization and nurtured its socialist ideology. Intended to symbolize national unity, ujamaa towers thus reflected the politics of the time. Curiously, however, they closely resemble a prewar sculptural genre which portrays the various figures within a matrilineal likola and which features a female ancestor at the base. By superimposing ujamaa unity upon that of the more familiar institution of the likola, carvers gave shape to the nationalism they were said to support. What is more, when carvers wished to suggest, years after independence, that FRELIMO had failed to honor promises made to its supporters during the guerrilla war, they produced sculptures whose didactic potential was as strong as the figures once used in initiation rites: the figures in these ujamaa towers grimaced where they had once smiled, and kicked one another where they had once embraced.

What the Devil Are Shetani?

In responding to the demands made by patrons of various kinds over the past century, and the opportunities they afforded, Makonde sculptors may be said to have made deals with the devil. Where others see devils, however, the sculptors may see something quite different. Such is the case with the genre for which they are perhaps best known internationally: shetani, often translated as Satan or devil. As we shall see, something more familiar to the Makonde sculptor lingers behind the shetani "devil," something that has allowed him to speak a historically meaningful language while at the same time producing works that communicate powerfully to contemporary consumers near and far.

Accounts conflict about the origins of this genre; most agree, however, that a sculptor named Samaki Likankoa, a Mozambican migrant living in Dar es Salaam, first produced and marketed what he referred to as a shetani in 1959. (14) At the time Samaki was among the growing number of Makonde migrants who, under the patronage of an Indian trader named Mohamed Peera, had taken up carving as a full-time profession. Peera provided them with wood and maintained first rights to the works they produced. Among this group, friendly rivalry gave rise to creative innovation, and most carvers refined their skills.

Samaki, however, was a free-spirited man, renowned for his drinking and womanizing, and in time he found himself surpassed by his colleagues. Soon after Peera told him that his binadamu works were lifeless compared with those of other sculptors, Samaki brought the trader a figure that had two spindly legs, a round body, and a ball-like head with two round eyes. When Peera asked him what it was, he initially feigned ignorance, but finally called it a shetani, meaning, in Kiswahili, a "spirit." According to legend, Peera bought the piece and, just hours later, sold it to a customer. Soon Samaki and other sculptors were producing similar works to meet the demand for them in Peera's shop.

In the catalogue to the 1989 Museum of Modern Art exhibition in Oxford, Jeremy Coote considers the possibility--suggested by Nelson Graburn in reference to the art of the "Fourth World" more generally--that grotesque works (a category in which some might place shetani) "[cash] in on the Westerner's ambivalent attitude towards exotic peoples" (Graburn in Coote 1989:18). (15) The sculptors with whom we have spoken have themselves considered this possibility. In 1994 Matias Ntundu (Fig. 10) told us that foreigners "buy shetani works because they like to think they are buying more than a sculpture--they like to think they are buying the creativity, the very thoughts, of the sculptor himself." (16) This seems to be the case even if they fail to understand these thoughts, as is evidenced most clearly in the common misconception that the term shetani derives from the Christian word Satan and that these sculptures represent devils or demons.

[FIGURE 10 OMITTED]

Commentators on Makonde sculpting have complained that the artists themselves do little to assist their audiences in understanding the meanings of their works, demonstrating a reticence to interpret them explicitly (Korn 1974:9; Kingdon 1994:91). The mystery surrounding shetani has fed some people's presumption that hallucinogenic drug use lies at the foundation of the genre (Stout 1966:99; Coote 1989:19). Because many of these commentators on Makonde carving have done only superficial, if any, field research with the artists themselves (not to mention with their broader communities), their interpretations of shetani are often limited to textual readings of the objects.

One notable exception is Zachary Kingdon, who completed a doctoral dissertation on contemporary Makonde sculpture in 1994, after eighteen months of ethnographic fieldwork among Makonde sculptors (all of Mozambican origin) living in Tanzania. (17) Kingdon warns that shetani--or, more accurately, mashaitani (pl.)--are conceived of differently depending upon one's religious faith (1994:140). In general, however, he explains that they can be understood as "mystical beings indigenous to the East African coast" (p. 100). He goes on to list four principal types in the "spirit world of the Makonde" (pp. 100-102): mahoka (ancestral spirits), mandandosa (enslaved victims of a sorcerer's enchantments), vantubya (malevolent bush spirits), and vanandeng'a (disease-spreading spirits that live in the forest or in caves and travel about in whirlwinds and dust-devils; see also Shore-Bos 1970:44). (18) Kingdon's work on shetani sculpture (forthcoming) is thoughtful and detailed, and will serve as a key reference for scholars with an interest in contemporary Makonde sculpture.

Curiously, however, much of the sculpture produced by Makonde carvers on the Mozambican side of the border may not fit within the shetani categories listed by Kingdon nor, in fact, within a genre named for "spirits," even if many artists do speak of these works as shetani. Mozambican Makonde sculptors with whom we spoke--both in Mueda and in Maputo (where many of the most talented now live and work)--sometimes offered vague interpretations of their pieces. (19) Just as often, though, they explained without hesitation that their sculptures portrayed not spirits but the living. Matias Ntundu, in Nandimba, told us that "shetani may represent the spirits of deceased individuals who lived their lives poorly and committed many sins," but he offered this as one of two principal categories of shetani he produced. Those in the other group, he asserted, "represent living persons ,with bad hearts, people who treat others wrongly and are disliked." The sculpted image of such a person, living or dead, Ntundu explained, "is meant to serve as a warning, a mirror in which people can see the ugliness of evil and eliminate it." (20)

Nkabala Ambelikola (Fig. 11), a matri-lateral nephew of the original master carver Nyakenya Nang'undu, linked shetani works even more explicitly to living people. "Many shetani represent sorcerers (mwavi)," he told us. To this he added, "Some are good and some are bad, but either way, they are people who live among us and look just like us until, under cover of night, they transform themselves into something unfamiliar." (21) Ambelikola used the terms uwavi wa kudenga and uwavi wa kudjoa to express the range of motives and characteristics for vahavi (sorcerers) represented in his works (Fig. 12) and in those of fellow carvers. These terms are defined in detail elsewhere (West 1997), but for present purposes simpler definitions will suffice. Uwavi wa kudjoa, "sorcery of danger," is said to be undertaken by individuals who, driven by jealousy and uncontrollable appetites, transform themselves into predators and feed on the flesh and wellbeing of their neighbors and kin. They are believed to use medicinal substances which allow them to enter into a realm unseen by the ordinary person; hence a sorcerer might be out practicing uwavi wa kudjoa even if it appeared to others that he or she was quietly resting in bed. The other form of sorcery uwavi wa kudenga, is also said to require the use of medicinal substances to enter into the invisible realm, but the practitioner of this "sorcery of construction" is normally a respected authority figure motivated by the desire to protect the larger community from the predations of "sorcerers of ruin" by monitoring and controlling their acts.

[FIGURES 11&12 OMITTED]

In Kingdon's interpretations of his informant-carvers' works, we find the preponderance of spirits, and the corresponding absence of sorcerers, puzzling. (22) On the Tanzanian side of the border, where Muslim and Swahili influences are considerably stronger than on the Mueda plateau, mashaitani and spirits of Arab origin called majini are clearly more powerful forces in local cosmology. Kingdon tells us that his informants, like nearly all "African Blackwood" carvers (i.e., ebony carvers) in Tanzania, are of Mozambican origin (1994:21), but after decades' residence in Tanzania, perhaps their cosmological landscape had come to more closely resemble that of their hosts.

In Modern Makonde Sculpture (1966), J. Anthony Stout labels many of the illustrated pieces carved by Mozambican migrants then living in Tanzania as "sorcerers"; evidently some individuals among the first generation of shetani sculptors explained their works in the language of sorcery. (23) Kingdon, nonetheless, also interprets Samaki's first shetani--sculpted by the artist only a few years after his migration from the Mueda plateau to colonial Tanganyika--in a language of "spirits" and even "spirit possession." For Kingdon, the piece's theme reflected not only the "spirit world" as Samaki might have imagined it but also, metaphorically Samaki's situation at the time. Having recently been challenged by Mohamed Peera's negative assessment of his sculpting, Samaki "[fit] the category of persons with `some sort of ambiguous status identity,'" the very sort of people susceptible to spirit possession (1994:110). (24)

One might, however, just as easily read Samaki's personal crisis in the language of sorcery. Kingdon tells us of the rivalry among the carvers working for Mohamed Peera in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He even cites carvers who talk about the jealousy (wivu) that motivated them at the time (1994:134). Elsewhere, Kingdon describes a "consuming jealousy that took hold of Samaki" within the context of this competitive atmosphere (1994:93). As sorcery springs from the fount of jealousy, Samaki's oeuvre may provide a window on an invisible realm in which sorcerers--perhaps, even, fellow sculptors--of conflicting motivations maintain surveillance over one another's appetites and fulfill their own. In a metaphorical sense, Samaki's work might then be said to constitute a "sorcery of construction" (uwavi wa kudenga) such as that practiced by a responsible elder or by a healer. Kingdon himself eloquently suggests what Matias Ntundu hinted at in describing shetani works as mirrors for displaying and challenging "evil": "Like the diviner the carver also possesses a special gift for `interrogation' and for disclosing a hidden reality and, like the work of the diviner, that of the carver is also `astonishing' and/or `frightening'" (1994:171). (25)

Whether particular pieces represent spirits or sorcerers, Kingdon reminds us that shetani sculptures serve as a medium for expressing entities and ideas that lie beyond one's easy grasp and that elude simple understanding (1994:141-43). His interpretation resonates powerfully with West's reading of the discourse of sorcery among residents of the Mueda plateau today (West 1997). Perhaps it is because shetani works reflect upon the unknown and the unknowable that they appeal to a world of consumers living beyond the edges of the plateau. Nonetheless, in speaking to the world beyond, Makonde carvers employ a language of images grounded in their unique historical experience. More than two decades later, we may therefore answer Dennis Duerden's call for evidence that contemporary Makonde sculpture relates to Makonde cosmology in profound ways. To do so, we need only accept the fact that Makonde, and those among them who sculpt, live, now as in the past, a dynamic and eventful history in which their notions of the world and their place in it are in constant and "astonishing" transformation.

[This article was accepted for publication in July 2001.]

This article is based upon a paper given by the authors at the 11th Triennial Meetings of the Arts Council of the African Studies Association, held in New Orleans, April 8-12, 1998. Preparation of the paper was supported by the Department of Art History and the Department of Anthropology and Sociology, by the Honors Program, and by the offices of the Dean and the Chaplain at Sweet Briar College while Sharpes was a student there and West a Visiting Assistant Professor of Anthropology.

(1.) See also Kingdon (1994:6) on this issue.

(2.) In her subsequent work, Sidney Littlefield Kasfir (1992) has provided insightful commentary on the issue of "authenticity" in African art.

(3.) What was perhaps the most widely attended exhibition of Makonde sculpture in the Western world, staged in 1989 at the Musee des Arts Africains et Oceaniens in Paris, was given the revealing title "Art Makonde: Tradition et Modernite." As Zachary Kingdon points out, "the exhibition did not problematize or reflect on the notion of `tradition' and `modernity,'" but instead highlighted the dichotomy by dividing into two rooms works attributed to each of the two categories (Kingdon 1994:2).

(4.) For an interesting discussion of continuity and dynamism in contemporary African art, see Vogel 1991:14-54.

(5.) This is not to suggest that all contemporary Makonde carving successfully balances forces far and near For example, in an interview conducted by West, the sculptor Nkabala Ambelikola explained that the figure of a Maasai warrior, which he was then carving, had little meaning for him or any of his fellow sculptors, but that they all make such figures "because they sell," "because tourists like primitive things from Africa" (interview, Maputo, Mozambique; August 1997). Other carvers admit that they carve for the market when they are hungry, and to satisfy their aesthetic aspirations when they are not (Coote 1989:15), but Matias Ntundu told West that he carves primarily "not to forget how to carve." To this he added, "When the works pile up, we all rent a truck and send them to market. Sometimes we are fortunate enough to make enough money to help ourselves a bit" (interview, Nandimba village, Mueda district, Cabo Delgado province, Mozambique; July 18, 1994).

(6.) Our observations on Makonde sculpture derive from a review of the literature undertaken by Sharpes (and supervised by West) during which Sharpes produced an annotated bibliography on Makonde art (forthcoming). They are also based on eleven months' ethnographic field research among the Makonde-speaking populations of the Mueda plateau region on the Mozambican side of the border conducted by West in 1993-95. West's field research was funded by the Fulbright-Hays program, the United States Institute of Peace, and the Wenner-Gren Foundation, and was facilitated by the Land Tenure Center, University of Wisconsin, as well as by the Arquivos de Patrim6nio Cultural and the Associacao dos Combatentes de Luta de Libertacao Nacional in Pemba. Marcos Agostinho Mandumbwe collaborated in the field research, while Felista Elias Mkaima and Tissa Eusebio Kairo assisted. As West's field research was focused not on Makonde art but on local discourses on power and changing political institutions over the past century (West 1997), our comments are offered as a complement to existing literature in the hope that they may open up new paths for future research.

(7.) Some challenge the claim that these particular objects were actually used for such pedagogical purposes (e.g., Sidney Kasfir, personal communication, 1999).

(8.) Interviews with Matias Ntundu in Nandimba village, Mueda district, Cabo Delgado province, Mozambique; July 18 and 19, 1994; as well as with Nkabala Ambelikola in Maputo, Mozambique, in August 1997.

(9.) In time, sculptors also began to work in other hardwoods such as rosewood, as seen in Figure 5.

(10.) Kingdon (1994:59) corroborates those West interviewed on this subject.

(11.) Eventually, carvers ceased using beeswax on mapiko masks altogether, as seen in Figure 3.

(12.) In some cases, administrators required carvers to sit in the administrative post yard and complete a given number of works each week (interview, Matias Ntundu, Nandimba village, Mueda district, Cabo Delgado province, Mozambique; July 18, 1994).

(13.) Sculptors interviewed attributed these developments to Raimundo Pachinuapa, who served FRELIMO as provincial secretary of Cabo Delgado after the defection to the Portuguese in 1970 of Lazaro Nkavandame, who had served FRELIMO as "regional commissioner" of Cabo Delgado (interview, Matias Ntundu, Nandimba village, Mueda district, Cabo Delgado province, Mozambique; July 18, 1994).

(14.) For a summary of various accounts, see Kingdon (1994:104-6) and Kasfir (1980). See also Jeremy Coote's catalogue essay for the exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in Oxford (1989:21), in which he challenges the idea of a singular originator of the shetani genre.

(15.) In his dissertation (1994:108), Kingdon even considers the possibility that in crafting his first shetani, Samaki may have been issuing a counterchallenge to his patron, Mohamed Peera: producing a "grotesque" image ridiculed what Peera, a non-Makonde, expected and demanded from him as a Makonde carver.

(16.) Interview, Nandimba village, Mueda district, Cabo Delgado province, Mozambique; July 18, 1994.

(17.) Sidney Littlefield Kasfir also conducted substantial interviews with Makonde sculptors in the late 1970s.

(18.) Margot Dias undertook ethnographic fieldwork among the Makonde of Mozambique with her husband, Jorge Dias, in the late 1950s, and wrote about "so-called `modern' Makonde sculpture" in 1973. She describes mahoka and vanandeng'a as well. She omits mandandosa and vantubya from her analysis, but includes a category of animal spirits not listed by Kingdon (Dias 1973:17-19).

(19.) Like other commentators, West was told by sculptors that inspiration for their works came in dreams, or in shapes seen in passing dustdevils (perhaps reminding them of vanandeng'a spirits). Some stressed that the shape of the wood itself gave form to what they would sculpt (interviews, Nandimba village, Mueda district, Cabo Delgado province, Mozambique; July 18 and 19,1994; as well as in Maputo, Mozambique, conducted in August 1997).

(20.) Interview, Nandimba village, Mueda district, Cabo Delgado province, Mozambique; July 18,1994.

(21.) Interview, Maputo, Mozambique; August 1997.

(22.) Sorcerers, of course, are believed to move about in disembodied form when practicing sorcery, but in referring to sorcerers and their activities, most Makonde would not speak of them in the same language used to describe spiritual entities not linked to living people.

(23.) To give another example, Korn (1974:15) provides an illustration of a sculpture that is described as a sorcerer disguising himself as a chameleon.

(24.) Kingdon suggests not that Samaki's work was a result of spirit possession but merely that the trope of spirit possession was, for Samaki," `good to think' on the question of relations between Makonde carver, and dealer Mohamed Peera" (1994:110). Kingdon (personal communication, April 6, 1999) has since revised his interpretation (see Kingdon, forthcoming).

(25.) Chanuo Maundu explained to Kingdon that one-eyed shetani figures have extraordinary vision because they combine the ocular power of two eyes in a single one (Kingdon 1994:116).

References cited

Alpers, Edward A. 1983. "The Role of Culture in the Liberation of Mozambique," Ufahamu 12, 3:143-90.

Alpers, Edward A. 1989. "Representation and Historical Consciousness in the Art of Modern Mozambique," in Art and Politics in Black Africa, ed. B. Jewsiewicki, pp. 73-94. Ottawa: Association Canadienne des Etudes Africaines, Sari. Association Francaise d'Action Artistique. 1989. Art makonde: Tradition et modernite. [Paris.]

Battiss, Walter. 1970. Response to "Modern Makonde" by Megchelina Shore-Bos, in "A propos," African Arts 3, 3:70-71. Block, Jean Libman. 1971. "Makonde Sculpture," Craft Horizons April:31-32, 57.

Chambers, Eddie. 1989. "Makonde Art," Art Monthly 129:18-20.

Coote, Jeremy. 1989. "Modern Makonde Carving," in Makonde: Wooden Sculpture from East Africa from the Malde Collection. Oxford: Museum of Modern Art.

Dias, Jorge and Margot Dias. 1970. Os Macondes de Mocambique: v. III, Vida social e ritual. Lisbon: Junta de Investigacoes do Ultramar, Centro de Estudos de Antropologia Cultural.

Dias, Margot. 1973. O Fenomeno da escultura maconde chamada "moderna." Lisbon: Junta de Investigacoes do Ultramar, Centro de Estudos de Antropologia Cultural.

Duarte, Ricardo Teixeira. 1987. Escultura Maconde. Maputo: Nucleo Editorial e Departamento de Arqueologia e Antropologia da Universidade Eduardo Mondlane.

Duerden, Dennis. 1970. "The Modern Makonde Sculpture shown at the Grosvenor Gallery," Studio International 179, 919:76-77.

Hayes, Charles. 1977. Contemporary Makonde Sculpture: The Madan Sapra Collection, Nairobi, Kenya, East Africa. Beverly Hills, CA: David Love, inc.

Isaacman, Allen. 1996. Cotton is the Mother of Poverty: Peasants, Work, and Rural Struggle in Colonial Mozambique, 1938-1961. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.

Jasienski, Jerzy. 1973. "Modern Makonde: Contemporary Ebony Sculpture of the Makonde Tribe (An Outline)," Africana Bulletin 18:183-206.

Kasfir, Sidney Littlefield. 1980. "Patronage and Maconde Carvers," African Arts 13, 3:67-70, 91-92.

Kasfir, Sidney Littlefield. 1992. "African Art and Authenticity: A Text with a Shadow," African Arts 25, 2:40-53, 96-97.

Kingdon, Zachary Edward. 1994. "A Host of Devils: The History and Context of the Modern Makonde Carving Movement." Ph.D. dissertation, University of East Anglia.

Kingdon, Zachary Edward. 1996. "Chanuo Maundu: Master of Makonde Blackwood Art," African Arts 29, 4:56-61, 95-96.

Kingdon, Zachary Edward. Forthcoming. A Host of Devils: The History and Context of the Making of Makonde Spirit Sculpture. London: Routledge.

Korn, Jorn. 1974. Modern Makonde Art. London: Hamlyn.

Mohl, Max. 1990. Masterpieces of the Makonde: An East African Documentation. 2 vols. Heidelberg: M. Mohl.

Museum of Modern Art, Oxford. 1989. Makonde: Wooden Sculpture from East Africa from the Malde Collection. Oxford, England: The Museum of Modern Art.

Sharpes, Stacy. Forthcoming. "A Bibliography of Sources Relevant to the Study of Makonde Art."

Shore-Bos, Megchelina. 1969. "Modern Makonde: Discovery in East African Art," African Arts 3, 1:46-51, 80-81.

Shore-Bos, Megchelina. 1970. "Makonde Sculpture," Natural History 74, 3:42-49.

Stephen, Michael. 1990. "Makonde: Sculpture as Political Commentary," Review of African Political Economy 48:106-15.

Stout, J. Anthony. 1966. Modern Makonde Sculpture. Nairobi: Kibo Art Gallery Publications.

Vogel, Susan (ed.). 1991. Africa Explores: 20th Century African Art. New York: The Center for African Art.

West, Harry G. 1997. "Sorcery of Construction and Sorcery of Ruin: Power and Ambivalence on the Mueda Plateau, Mozambique (1882-1994)." Ph.D. dissertation, University of Wisconsin.

STACY SHARPES received a B.A. in art history from Sweet Briar College in 1998. Currently working in Maryland as a certified public accountant, she plans to apply her business expertise to the field of arts management.

HARRY G. WEST is assistant professor of anthropology in the Graduate Faculty at the New School University. He has conducted research in Mozambique since 1991.