Ukara cloth

Ukara cloth
Ukara cloth detail, Etara community, Cross River State, Nigeria

Sunday, 27 May 2018

Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, an Ìgbò-speaking community with links to Cuban Abakuá

Cuban Abakuá mask, 1870s (left); Ẹ́bị́rị́bá funerary mask, 2015 (right)
Ùmọ́ọ̀n Ékpè mask, Cross River State, Nigeria. I. Miller photo, 2010

Ékpè masks in Ẹ́bị́rị́bá community.  I. Miller photos, 2016

Ẹ́bị́rị́bá (colonial spelling ‘Ábíríbá’) is an Ìgbò-speaking community in Abia State, southeastern Nigeria, known by locals as “small London.” The nickname derives from Ẹ́bị́rị́bá’s centuries-old tradition of traders, who brought wealth home to build elaborate homes when possible, and who value western education, as well as their indigenous traditions. The Ẹ́bị́rị́bá traders who worked along the Cross River and into Cameroon created a guild called “Ábíríbá Umong.” This guild owns Ékpè in Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, and they are represented by an Ékpè canoe.
“Ábíríbá Umong” Ékpè canoe in performance, Calabar. I. Miller photo, 2015

Ẹ́bị́rị́bá migration narratives claim that Ùmọ́ọ̀n community on the Cross River was their residence in the distant past. But from the 1700s, those Ẹ́bị́rị́bá who worked along the Cross River referred to the entire region as "Umong", since Ùmọ́ọ̀n island on the river was a direct link to the Calabar port. Ẹ́bị́rị́bá historian Ijekpa Kalu Ijekpa wrote:

"With Umon as a beachhead, Abiriba smithery and enterprise gained entry into Efik land. It was extended as well to all the important commercial centers in Ibibio, Annang, Eket as well as the inland port of the Ekois and other sub tribes of the Upper Cross River. Because of this, the Abiriba traders in this region became known as Abiriba Umon or the Abiribas of Umon region or better still, as the Abiriba of the River towns (Abiriba Mba mini)." (Kalu Ijekpa 2007: 120).

As Kalu Ijekpa indicates, Ùmọ́ọ̀n culture has become important in Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, as shown by the name of the canoe mask illustrated above. Independently, Ùmọ́ọ̀n influence also reached Cuba where in Havana, an Abakuá lodge is called “Apapa Umon” (Cabrera 1988: 63).
            The artistic heritage of Ùmọ́ọ̀n Ékpè masks is clearly reflected in an 1800s Cuban Abakua performance, on the one hand, and in that of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá on the other, in contrast to other Ékpè masks elsewhere in the Cross River region. The visual similarity is also accompanied by a ritual one: the Ùmọ́ọ̀n, Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, and Cuban Ékpè masks (as in the images above) may touch their knees to the ground, while in Calabar, an Ékpè mask that did this would be fined.
            To understand these historic links, Miller traveled to Ẹ́bị́rị́bá several times at the invitation of community members, who have family ties with Calabar, Ugep and Arochukwu, where their ancestors were blacksmiths and traders, participating in the infamous commerce with European merchants of slaves and other commodities.
Beaded chewing-stick bag created by leaders of Ishie Town, an historic Ìgbò section of Calabar, for Chief Kalu Ndukwe of Ábíríbá, 1992. A sign of historic links between both communities. I. Miller photo

Ítù Éyè Annual Ceremony

Ẹ́bị́rị́bá community leaders are admirable for their love of heritage, commerce and education. Every July, Ẹ́bị́rị́bá community holds a ceremony called Ítù Éyè, meaning “to pronounce the laws” (Ítù ‘to pronounce’; éyè ‘taboo’). This rite is performed by the Enachioken, the Eze or ruler of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, with the assistance of the Chief of Ihungwu (a village in Ameke) and the Chief of Amaogudu, representatives of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá’s three major quarters: Ameke, Agboji and Amaogudu.
Sign for the Ítù Éyè gazebo used annually to pronounce community laws. I. Miller photo, 2016
This gazebo was created by an age-grade, an example of the system that organizes youth into lifetime comradeship, encouraging each other to excel through healthy competition. This sign reads:
“1964. Obu Itu Eye at Amuku Ábíríbá. Erected by Akanu Age Grade (Uke Ji Agbala Ndikon Na Ndinvom) Ábíríbá, in commemoration of their celebration of Uche Festival in 1964 at the age of 54 years during the reign of the Paramount Chief Ikpe Mba 1, Eze Otisi of Ábíríbá, Chief Ibe Agu of Aboji, Ngdieke of Amogudu.”
The Ítù Éyè gazebo in Ameke square, next to the Enachioken’s palace. I. Miller photo, 2016
Before Ítù Éyè is done publicly, the Chief of Agboji, the Chief of Amogudu and the Enachioken meet to decide what laws are to be made, what laws are to be abolished, in addition to the bylaws regarding public health and works, agricultural production and holidays made by the seventeen village heads of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá. Each of the seventeen villages of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá have an Ékpè hall, often decorated with representative sculptures.
The entrance to an Ẹ́bị́rị́bá Ékpè hall, with sculptures of Ékpè masks and leaders at left, and a ‘totem pole’ in the center, with a bell to call members to order above. I. Miller photo, 2016
Ékpè hall sculpture exhibit the blue and white Ùkárá cloth of Ékpè culture. I. Miller photo, 2016

Ékpè hall totem pole. I. Miller photo, 2016

During the public Ítù Éyè, the entire community gathers.
The Enachioken and council face the Ẹ́bị́rị́bá community, waiting for the arrival of representatives of the community founders. I. Miller photo, 2016
As new laws are announced, the two other people with the Enachioken are Eze Amogudu and Eze Amugu; they represent the younger brothers of the original founder of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, who moved away from Ndi Okogo (Ameke), where the Enachioken palace is. The first one, whose name was Chukwu, founded Umu-e-chukwu at Amaogudu; then the second child of the Enachioken, named Ngwu, founded Ihu-ngwu where it is today at Ẹ́bị́rị́bá. These people assemble when new laws are being made, and they are always present during the Ítù Éyè. 
The Enachioken, dressed in white for purity, and cabinet await the arrival of Eze Amogudu and Eze Amugu.
I. Miller photo, 2016
When the Umu-e-chukwu Eze is coming out, he waits at a point for the Eze of Ihu-ngwu to join him, and then the two of them move up to the podium to join the Enachioken.
One of two representatives of younger brothers of the Ébíríbá founder arrives to Ameke square, holding a staff of office. I. Miller photo, 2016
A second representative of the younger brother of the Ẹ́bị́rị́bá founder arrives to Ameke square in procession.
This Eze carries a broom with many strands, each one representing a family in the community.
I. Miller photo, 2016

The procession includes sacred objects of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá community, including an elephant’s tusk. I. Miller photo, 2016
The sacred objects are placed on the platform before the laws are announced. I. Miller photo, 2016
As each new law is proclaimed, the Enachioken receives a fresh palm frond from an elder. I. Miller photo, 2016
The Enachioken then throws the frond outwards to the leader of the presiding age grade. I. Miller photo, 2016
They may say for example, “From next year if a girl becomes pregnant, the man who laid with her must marry her; this law will govern us.” Then the Enachioken will throw the fresh palm frond outwards, and the leader of the age grade overseeing the implementation of the law of the land will pick it immediately, indicating that the law is accepted and will be implemented. As another pronouncement is made, another palm frond will be thrown out, and picked up by the age-grade leader, until all the laws to govern the community are pronounced. The leader of the governing age grade (an age grade normally governs for four years), will pick the frond, representing an instruction for the implementation of a new law; that is Ítù Éyè.
The leader of the age-grade awaits the palm fronds from the Enachioken; they will be placed inside the basket.
I. Miller photo, 2016
The age grade that receives the palm fronds holds them as sacred: if two persons are quarreling or disputing about a piece of land and the palm frond is presented, it is a halt order. Those who claim it must not enter that piece of land or building until the matter is settled, and the frond is removed. In the past when Ẹ́bị́rị́bá was going for war, they carried the palm fronds and it was a taboo to harm the person carrying the palm frond; he would go to declare war, then put the palm fronds in his mouth to return safely. When a corpse is being brought home, and the palm frond is displayed, all know that someone special is being brought home. It is a greatly revered symbol of peace.
After the pronouncement of the king and the laws are pronounced, in the evening there is dancing and wrestling. First at Amuku square and secondly at Udanta square, Amogudu, people dance and celebrate. During these events the slit gongs are played for excitement.
The wooden gong beaten during the wrestling match is called Ufi. I. Miller photo, 2016

A new monument called "Íkòrò Ábíríbá" was unveiled in the July 2016 Ítù Éyè event. I. Miller photo, 2016
Ufi is also very important during New Yam Festival. Then the larger gong called Íkòrò is beaten when a great thing is happening or about to happen, and also when an important person is entering the community.
 "Íkòrò Ábíríbá" monument. I. Miller photo, 2016
If there is war or an attack by an enemy, the Íkòrò will be played to alert the whole community. Those on their farms will rush home to find out what the Íkòrò has said; if it is war then they prepare to fight. Many people have their own Ufi, a smaller one in their home, to beat it for the celebration of New Yam Festival.
Wooden door with sculpted image of war dance. I. Miller photo, 2016
The Ikpirikpe war dance is common to Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, Ohafia, and Abam communities. The war dance song will tell listeners that in such a place such a hero did this and that. In the past they carried human skulls, but today they mainly carry carvings while dancing. In a war dance there is normally a singer, and people who beat two sticks together and drummers; the dancers are in front surrounded by two assistants to the left and the right. 

Thanks to the following for granting interviews to Dr. Ivor Miller:
His Majesty Eze Kalu Kalu Ogbu IV, the Enachoken of Ẹ́bị́rị́bá kingdom, the Paramount Ruler of Ébíríbá people.
Prince Ijekpa Urum Ijekpa ‘JJ’, from Ndi Onuegbe compound, Ihebu Ameke Ẹ́bị́rị́bá, Ohafia L.G.A. Abia State,
Mr. Ijekpa Kalu Ijekpa, son of the late Eze Ábíríbá Umon, Chief Kalu Ikejpa, and the author of Ábíríbá Civilization.
Mr. Ijekpa Kalu Ijekpa, author of Ábíríbá Civilization.
I. Miller photo, 2016

Published sources
Cabrera, Lydia. 1988. La Lengua Sagrada de los Ñañigos. Miami: Colección del Chicherekú en el exilio.
Kalu Ijekpa, Ijekpa. 2007. The Ábíríbá Civilization: Early days to the 20th Century A.D. Aba, Abia State: Heritage House Pubs. ISBN 978-978-084-525-4.


Wednesday, 30 August 2017

‘Voice of the tortoise’, Èyòngó nèwèn

Tortoise 'nèwèn' on the center post of the Ékpè (Mgbè) hall,
Mgbè Àfànghá, of Ègbékàw village, Mamfe, Cameroon. I. Miller photo
In the Kenyang language of the Bayangi people, Nèwèn ‘tortoise’ is an instrument of the Mgbè society, related to the grade Békúndí. The role of Békúndí is to communicate between the living and dead members. Depending upon the context, the Békúndí communicates through these instruments: a drum ‘nkah’ or ‘ekpiri’ [derived from ekpri 'small' in Èfịk], a tortoise shell ‘nèwèn’, iron gongs ‘èbòghò’, or ‘clappers’, called ‘mbíák’. In some lodges, ‘mbíák’ is the rhythmic engine for processions.
    When a chief initiated into Békúndí dies, the Békúndí goes to receive the corpse, evoking his spirit, communicating with him, because the belief is that he has not died, but merely transited to the spirit world.
    When the Békúndí plays the tortoise shell, all are silent in the lodge. Only the Seseku responds to the tonal language of the Békúndí, even if others may understand the conversation.
    In the following videos, the Békúndí uses the nèwèn to evoke the ancestors, to alert them that the living members are thinking of them and sharing with them. The Békúndí calls on the spirits to enable the living to have prosperity, food, money, children and long life.

— Mr. Ebot Dickson Arrey, from Ègbékàw, of Mgbè Èchòkó, Ègbékàw village, Mamfe, plays the nèwèn ‘tortoise’ in the hall. See video here!

— 'Seseku' Takor Zacheus Besong, of Mgbè Èchòkó, plays the nèwèn ‘tortoise’ in the hall. See video here! See video here!
      (Profound thanks to Seseku Agbor Benson Besong of Mgbè Àfànghá, of Ègbékàw, the Secretary General of Mgbè Manyu, for sponsoring this event).

The tortoise is a universal symbol of the Mgbè society, extending to the historically related Abakuá society of Cuba, where turtles are used because they are more prevalent. The tortoise is a forest reptile, while the turtle dwells in the water. The tortoise has a life-span of 80-150 years, much longer than the turtle, making it a symbol of wisdom. In Cuba, Lydia Cabrera reported that,
     "many lodges display turtle shells during celebrations or sometimes have a live turtle in their Fambá [lodge hall] with the sign of Mokongo. These turtles wander around all the corners of the Fambá, going out to the patio and returning to the Foekue [inner sanctum]. 'They know what they are doing and fulfill their mission like a person. I left one in the Iriongo, and saw it go out to the patio, arrive to where the music was playing and then return to the Iriongo. That turtle is returned alive to the river as well as part of the offerings'." (Cabrera, La lengua sagrada, 1988: 86).

In "Los Pocitos", an Abakuá stronghold in Havana, ‘Naldo’, holds an Abakuá ‘suit’ in process, including a ‘small hat’ with a turtle shell, 2017. I. Miller photo
In Havana, the turtle shell continues as a symbol of the Abakuá society in the artistry of tailors such as Reinaldo Verrier Govín ‘Naldo’, who makes an Íreme 'body-suit' with a turtle shell on the back.

Monday, 28 August 2017

Èbòngó society initiation - South West Cameroon

Senator Agnes Mambe moves in procession with the Èbòngó leaders after her initiation in Ekondo Titi, 2009.
Èbòngó is a traditional society for royal women of the Bàlóndó-speaking area. Senator Agnes Mambe, President of the Cameroon Traditional Women’s Society, is an active civil society leader in the South West region. She was initiated by the members of the Èbòngó society in recognition of her lifetime achievement.

The Ékpè chiefs collectively select one elder woman from the Èbòngó society to receive the title of Manyang-Aro (in Éjághám) or Nyang’a Mboka (in Bàlóndó), or ‘Head of Women’s Traditional Leaders in the Community’ in English. The Manyang-Aro is the representative of women to the Ékpè society.

Senator Mambe with the certificate received from the Ekondo Titi Council Area Chiefs Conference, 2009.

Thursday, 4 May 2017

Celebration of Cuban bàtá percussion: the 80th anniversary of an historic concert in Havana (English/ Español abajo)


(image courtesy of María Fernanda Ortiz)

“Object of veneration and worship by some, defiled and prohibited by others; considered as messenger of the gods and embodiment of the ancestors in the black religions of Cuba; victim of kidnapping and stabbings by reactionary and racist authorities, the fate of the drum has run parallel to that of blacks, their creators par excellence.” (Rogelio Martínez-Furé, 1979).




On May 30, 1937, musicians Pablo Roche “Akilakua,” Águedo Morales, and Jesús Pérez “Oba Ilú,” appeared on stage in Havana, presented by scholar Fernando Ortiz. Being the first time Lukumí initiates performed bàtá percussion outside a ritual context, this event set the course for the integration of this West African cultural form into Cuban national identity, in a process that Fernando Ortiz called ‘transculturation’.

In West Africa, bi-membraned bàtá drums were traditionally played for both the Òrìà àngó, deity of thunder and justice, and the Egungun ‘ancestor’ masquerades in the city-state of Ọ̀yọ́-Ilé. In the 1830s, with the collapse of Old-Ọ̀yọ́, thousands of Yorùbá-speaking culture bearers were forcibly migrated to the Caribbean. In Cuba, the bàtá drummer’s guild was established and passed on by Yorùbá-speaking migrants like Àtàndá, Añabí and Adéínà in the early 1800s, developing exclusively in the port cities of Havana and Matanzas. An integral part of communal ceremonial life, the bàtá drum ensemble was kept hidden because of colonial repression until the 1937 concert. From then onwards, the bàtá drum entered national consciousness through radio programs, fusion with popular music and theatrical folklore performances. About bàtá performance, Ortiz wrote:



“The soloist (called akpuón) begins the song . . . and the choir (called ankorí) responds in the same tone. But the drumming does not accompany the songs. One could say that the drums sing on their own and the choir interweaves with them. In reality the drums, above all the iyá, ‘talk’, order and guide the singers, who only support them with their voices.” (Fernando Ortiz 1954).


In 2017, on the 80th anniversary of the foundational event in Havana, we celebrate the cultural victory of prestigious African-descendants whose efforts over several generations have resulted in the globalization of this tradition.


L-R: Michele, Yunior, Yosvany, Sandy, Román, Mauricio.           I. Miller photo
Performers:

Bàtá drums: From Cuba - ‘Román’ Díaz, Olúbàtá, of Havana; ‘Sandy’ Pérez, Omóañá, of Matanzas; Mauricio Herrera, Omóañá, of Holguin. 
Piano:  Michele Rosewoman, of New York City.
Voice: Vanessa ‘Ayaba’ Lindberg, of Gloucester, Massachusetts.
Bass: Yunior Terry, of Camagüey, Cuba.
Saxophone and chekeré: Yosvany Terry, of Camagüey, Cuba.
Original idea, research and writing: Dr. Ivor L. Miller, of Amherst, MA.


Thanks to Deena Anderson, Professor Alejandro De La Fuente, Cary García, Ivor Miller, Eva Rosenberg, and Yosvany Terry for helping to organize this event. Sponsored at Harvard University by the Cuba Studies Program, David Rockefeller Center for Latin American Studies; The Afro-Latin American Research Institute at the Hutchins Center; The Center for African Studies; El Observatorio de Cervantes at Harvard University; El Instituto Cervantes.

Celebración de la percusión del bàtá cubano: El octogésimo aniversario de un concierto histórico en La Habana

“Objeto de veneración y culto por unos, profanado y prohibido por otros; considerado como mensajero de los dioses y encarnación de los antepasados en las religiones negras de Cuba; víctima de secuestros y acuchillamientos por autoridades reaccionarias y racistas, la suerte del tambor ha corrido paralela a la del negro, su creador por excelencia.” (Rogelio Martínez-Furé, 1979).

El 30 de mayo de 1937, los músicos Pablo Roche “Akilakua,” Águedo Morales, y Jesús Pérez “Oba Ilú,” fueron presentados en La Habana por el erudito Fernando Ortiz. Fue la primera vez que iniciados Lukumí tocaron percusión bàtá fuera del contexto ritual, este evento marcó el proceso de la integración de esta forma de cultura de África occidental en la identidad nacional cubana, el proceso que Fernando Ortiz llamó ‘transculturación’.

En África occidental, los bàtá bimembranófonos se tocaban tradicionalmente para el Òrìà àngó, deidad del trueno y la justicia, y las mascaradas Egungun ‘ancestros’ en la ciudad-estado de Ọ̀yọ́-Ilé. En 1830, con el derrumbe del Viejo-Ọ̀yọ́, miles de portadores de la cultura Yorùbá fueron llevados a la fuerza al Caribe. En Cuba, el gremio bàtá fue establecido y trasmitido por Yorùbá natales como Àtàndá, Añabí y Adéínà a comienzo de 1800, desarrollándose exclusivamente en las ciudades portuarias de La Habana y Matanzas. Siendo una parte integral de la vida comunitaria, la orquesta del tambor bàtá se mantenía escondida frente a la represión colonial hasta el concierto en 1937. Desde entonces, los tambores bàtá entraron a la conciencia nacional a través de programas de radio, la fusión con la música popular y espectáculos folklóricos en teatros. Ortiz escribió sobre el toque de los bàtá lo siguiente:

 “El solista antifonero (denominado akpuón) inicia o ‘levanta’ el canto . . . y el coro (denominado ankorí) le responde en el mismo tono de aquél. Pero los tamboreos no son acompañamiento de cantos. Diríase que los ‘tambores’ cantan por sí y que con ellos se entreteje el coral. Son en realidad los ‘tambores’, sobre todo el ‘iyá’, los que ‘hablan’, ordenan y dirigen a los cantadores, quienes no hacen sino secundarlos con sus voces.” (Fernando Ortiz 1954).



En 2017, en el octogésimo aniversario de este evento fundacional en La Habana, celebramos la victoria cultural de los prestigiosos descendientes de africanos cuyos esfuerzos por varias generaciones han resultado en la globalización de esta tradición.
 
Vanessa 'Ayaba', lead voice.          I. Miller photo

Saturday, 1 October 2016

The Masked Theater of Cuban Abakuá: Communication by Gestures, Costumes and Chants

Cubans and Cameroonians share Ékpè-Abakuá heritage at Smith College. Patricia González photo
Link to video of the Ekpe-Abakua-Piano performance

This was a very productive first year for our NEH funded translation project, “Lydia Cabrera’s ‘The Sacred Language of the Abakua’ and its West African Sources.” We created a draft translation, we identified cultural experts in Nigeria and Cameroon to help with interpretation of Cabrera’s text, and we traveled to Nigeria, Cameroon and Cuba for research. In Calabar, Ivor Miller identified several Nigerian consultants who could help in the interpretation of Abakuá terms, then audio recorded their utterances so that Victor Manfredi could began etymological analysis. Patricia González and Miller presented on the Cabrera project to the Faculty of Arts at the University of Calabar, where the faculty and students seemed to be in awe of the survival of Cross River region linguistic and cultural heritage in Cuba. We also traveled to the University of Buea in southwest Cameroon to present the Cabrera project to colleagues, because this is part of the cultural area shared with Calabar. Present at our lecture was the University Vice-Chancellor, the Registrar, the Head of the Department of History, and many students, whom we thank profusely. The travel to Nigeria and Cameroon has proven invaluable to understand the underlying cultural context of the Cuban Abakuá material.

To celebrate and disseminate our achievements, we organized a public presentation of this project at Smith College, where on 22 September, 2016, we presented Cabrera’s Abakuá text as a living language:

Photographs and Research by Ivor Miller; design by Julian Lustig-González

At Smith College, González discussed Lydia Cabrera and the translation process, Miller discussed Abakuá history and its West African sources, while Manfredi presented the results of his linguistic analysis.

Victor Manfredi presents an analysis of an Abakuá phrase in Cabrera's book

The highlight was surely the six Cuban participants who came from Miami, New York City, and Boston, as well as two Cameroonian Ékpè chiefs from Washington D.C., who discussed and performed several examples of texts documented by Cabrera. The Cuban and Cameroonian participants demonstrated easy recognition of shared cultural traits and language in their performance of song, percussion and dance. Another highlight was Vanessa Lindberg's performance of the Bríkamo songs of Matanzas, illustrating the presence of women in Cuban “Carabalí” culture.


Cuban Íreme "purifies" the communal space at Smith College (Carroll Room, Campus Center). Patricia González photo

Our distinguished participants were:
Mr. Mforkem M. Asam-Eyong of Fumbe community, Manyu Division, S.W. Cameroon (Bayang-speaking people). In Ékpè, his title is Etem Etem Ntui in the Bero-Nteng Ékpè lodge (Etem Etem Nuti is the second in command after the Seseku of the lodge). He currently lives in Washington, D.C.

‘Román’ Díaz of Havana. Formerly of Yoruba Andabo in Havana, ‘Román’ is one of the most sought after percussionists in New York City today. Moní Bonkó of the lodge Ápapa Umóni Ekueritonkó of Havana.

Angel Guerrero, of el barrio de Pogolotti, Havana. Aberiñán of the lodge Itia Mukandá Efó. In 2000, he was lead chanter on Ibiono, the first full Abakuá CD in Havana. He currently lives in Miami, where he founded of the annual Abakuá Festival.

Vanessa Lindberg of Gloucester, Mass. She studied for many years with the leaders of the Bríkamo tradition in Matanzas city, Cuba, and is the mother of Divina Ayé.

Clemente Medina, from Havana. Currently living in New York City, as a professional percussionist.

Sandy Pérez of el barrio de la Marina, Matanzas city. From the Villamil family that founded the Cabido de Sta. Teresa in the 1800s. Eribangandó of the lodge Efí Kunanbére.

Sandy Pérez plays Bonkó to communicate with the Íreme, accompanied by (L to R) 'Román', Mbe Tazi, and Asam-Eyong. Ivor Miller photo.

Diosdado Rodríguez of Guanabacoa, Havana. Nkóboro of the lodge Eklé Ntáti (1840). He is the son of singer Adriano Rodríguez, and nephew of Giraldo Rodríguez, Olú Añá (leader of sacred Batá drums).

Philip Mbe Tazi IX of Fontem, Cameroon. He is the traditional ruler of Njeh-Mveh village in Fontem. His father Mbe Tazi Ate'awung VIII was an important informant for Robert Brain, who wrote important books on Bangwa cultural heritage, such as Bangwa funerary sculpture, Robert Brain & Adam Pollock, University of Toronto Press, 1971.

David Virelles of Santiago de Cuba. Currently working in New York City as a professional pianist, his album Mboko won many awards in the jazz competitions of USA and Europe.

After the Cuban-Cameroon presentation, we were happily surprised with a spontaneous performance on piano by maestro David Virelles, dialoging with the African and Cuban percussionists. Truly, this inherited trans-Atlantic culture is not a thing of the past, but of the future!


David Virelles, piano, with the Cuban-Cameroon team. Ivor Miller photo.
Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this report do not necessarily represent those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.