La noche

Lovely Colombian kompa! Possibly my favorite Joe Arroyo song, it reminds me of "Ti Carole" by Nemours and a few other hits, but with a thoroughly 'modern' sound a greater emphasis on the drums. This is the kind of music I need to find more of, Colombian coastal music reflecting Haitian and Caribbean influences! 

A Depiction of the 1801 Constitution

Source

I find this lithograph quite fascinating. Supposedly a depiction of the 1801 Constitution of Toussaint Louverture, for the island of Saint Domingue, we see a bishop and a Moses figure giving the image religious and obvious abolitionist symbolism. I find it odd that the lithograph refers to the republique de Haity, however, since Toussaint Louverture never declared independence in the 1801 Constitution. And based on certain stylistic similarities with a future painting of Petion and Dessalines, I would not be surprised if this image was completed after 1801. But perhaps I am wrong, since more than one source seems to indicate this celebrates the 1801 Constitution with Toussaint himself appearing in the center, near the bishop. 

The Choices Program: Haitian Revolution

Check out this fascinating program on the Haitian Revolution featuring 3 different scholars. The Choices Program special on the Haitian Revolution features several video interviews with scholars (such as Alex Dupuy) that cover the basics of the turbulent period, as well as some of its legacies. Although it serves more of an introductory purpose, there is still lots to learn from this project, as well as a chance to hear Anthony Brogues and Patrick Sylvain, two scholars I am not familiar with.

Barranquilla

A classic salsa jam from Joe Arroyo, a Colombian legend's tribute to one of the most Caribbean of cities in Colombia. The rhythms are infectious and now I know I must see this great city one day. En Barranquilla me quedo!

Haiti Noir 2

Funny, I just finished reading Haiti Noir 2 today, and Kreyolicious has a short review up! This collection was not as interesting as the first, but I thoroughly enjoyed reading translated works by some of the best in Haitian literature, such as Jacques Roumain and Ida Faubert. In addition, the reader is treated to a short story by Roxane Gay that has me dying to read her recently published novel. Perhaps due to the inclusion of writers from various epochs in Haitian history, one feels that the great diversity of 20th century and 21st century Haitian history is represented here, including political allusions (the Duvalier dictatorship and Aristide), recent troubles (the rise of kidnappings, sex tourism and gang violence), and class dynamics of Haitian society over time. Overall, my favorite selections were by the following writers: Jacques-Stephen Alexis, Jan J. Dominique, Ida Faubert, Roxane Gay, Dany Laferriere, and Roxane Gay. Check here for my brief thoughts on the first installment of Haiti Noir.

Blackness in Hispaniola

I am quite fond of Haitian History's insightful and brief review of the many faults of Henry Louis Gates' approach to blackness and relations between Haiti and the Dominican Republic. Undoubtedly, the most serious mistake in the documentary series is the fixation with a US-based understanding of 'blackness' to elucidate 'blackness' in Latin America. Moreover, as Haitian History says, Gates never defines 'blackness' in the series. In addition, the episode on Hispaniola just lacks nuance, research, and makes false claims (such as one denying Dominican recognition of Afro-Dominican agency and contributions, even going so far as to claim there are no statues of black heroes in the DR).

Neg Kont Neg

A great song with a great message.

Musa Original

I am really digging Joe Arroyo these days, a Colombian salsa legend. He even covered Haitian kompa songs, revealing the diversity of Caribbean Colombian music. Although "Musa Original" is a cover of Accolade de New York, Arroyo showed his worth on more Colombian salsa-styled music, as can be heard here, featuring jazzy piano.

David

Lovely. Although I am new to DP Express, I am quite fond of their style, particularly the contributions of Ti-Manno.

Toujou Sou Kompa

Ardouin on Haitian Independence and Dessalines

Came across this fascinating translated account of the proclamation of Haitian independence online today. Our old friend Beaubrun Ardouin's clear bias against Dessalines shines throughout, as well as his alleged dedication to the principles of the French Revolution, but it's an engaging read regardless. Boisrond Boisrond Tonnerre's immortal words (“In order to draw up the act of our independence we need the skin of a white man to serve as parchment, his skull for inkwell, his blood as ink, and a bayonet as the quill.”) and the removal of the white from the French tricolor still resonate today, as well as the political turmoil of the Haitian state (something Ardouin alludes to quite clearly, though still defensive of the initial type of government adopted in 1804). Placing the Haitian Revolution in a much broader regional and global perspective, Ardouin  also emphasizes the importance of Haitian independence for the progress of the black race. Much thanks to the Marxists who provided this enthralling excerpt, translated by Mitchell Abidor.

DP Express

One of my favorite Caribbean jams, featuring Ti-Manno. Excellent kompa!

Moso Manman

A lovely song for mothers, even if it's a little after Mother's Day. I found it while perusing my mother's CD collection. 

Africans in Science

An interesting lecture from a controversial scholar, Ivan Van Sertima. Regardless of one's take on Afrocentrism (and the variety of forms which it can take), his work certainly challenges common assumptions about African history, gender relations, science, and civilizations. Without a doubt, African contributions to science, technology, astronomy, and medicine do not get the recognition they deserve, so enjoy this lecture. Africa gave us modern human behavior, mathematics, art, astronomy, advanced surgery, antibiotics, innovative metallurgy, and a plethora of advances in human history that are belittled, ignored, and denied to this day.

Turbulent Haiti

An interesting look at how US media covered Haiti in 1962, a year of one of the political crises of the Duvalier dictatorship. Unfortunately, it seems to only be an excerpt, but it's fun to watch nonetheless. Lots of stereotypes of Haiti and vast generalizations are reported as fact (not to mention a lack of depth), but clearly the political crisis in Haiti (I assume the political crisis referred to here is the moment where Duvalier sought to extend his presidency (which he did successfully) and the near-war with Juan Bosch's government in the DR) was important in the minds of US politicians due to the Cuban Revolution and the fall of Trujillo's dictatorship the previous year. The alluded to violation of the security of the Dominican embassy was one of the factors that nearly brought the Dominican Republic to war with Haiti, as well as JFK's own disdain for Papa Doc. While watching this, go ahead and check out these news reels about Duvalier in 1971 and 1972.

Lèlène Chérie

One of my favorites from Shoogar Combo, a superb cover much better than the original. We get prominent horns, keyboards, and delectable melodies.  What's not to love, with that unforgettable chorus?

Edwidge Danticat's Claire of the Sea Light

I just finished reading Danticat's latest novel, Claire of the Sea Light. Although the text was enthralling (and the interconnected episodic chapters, which link it structurally with The Dew Breaker, works quite well) and engaging, I am still unsure what to think. At times the novel seemed to clearly allude to recent events or current problems in Haitian society (such as the deteriorating conditions of the country due to deforestation, causing soil erosion, and increases in extreme weather), but remained optimistic. Claire, the titular character, is a young girl whose mother died during her birth, and her father, an illiterate fisherman living in poverty, wants to give her away as a daughter to the childless widow, Madame Gaelle. However, Danticat perfectly weaves together several other characters into their own sub-plots, which all come together thematically and link the characters to their past, present, and future. Definitely worth reading, but as I am still unsure of my final thoughts on the novel, I will have to postpone a further analysis.

Amba Lakaye

Ti Manno has quickly become one of my favorite kompa artists.

Se Acaso Você Chegasse

"Se Acaso Você Chegasse," when Elza Soares was in her early prime. Although she is legendary and has remained relevant to Brazilian popular music, her early sound is what I prefer. She's jazzier, scats (hence the Louis Armstrong comparison, and the shared raspiness), features a big bang sound that recalls samba's origins in the large processions and public revelry, and her ostentatious display and style forces one to include Afro-Brazilians. Indeed, entitling one of her early albums A Bossa Negra was a startling find (to me, at least), but perhaps that was more due to how white record labels marketed her. Regardless, she's an amazing singer. Check out her version of "Marambaia" and "O Gato" for more examples. 

Gagotte Djet La

I am always on the quest for excellent 'world music,' and this kompa song by Djet-X is everything I love about 1970s and 1980s mini-jazz. It's jazzy, features a strong horn section that emphasizes the band's larger social context of a fusion of various musical influences (from Latin America, Cuba, and the US). This is just one example of the types of Caribbean and African music I enjoy most.

The Spirits and The Law

Rereading Ramsey's The Spirits and the Law: Vodou and Power in Haiti has been an enlightening experience. Ramsey's text, epic in scope, expertly weaves together the tale of the Haitian state's relationship with Vodou and popular religious practices. In her clearly well-researched narrative, Ramsey coherently reveals the contradictory and ambivalent relationship between laws issued by the state and the power of Vodou as a site of resistance, compliance, and alternative sources of political organization. Ramsey takes from the colonial era to the mid-20th century (with a short epilogue on how Vodou was incorporated into the Duvalierist state as a source of revenue and subordinated to the control of Papa Doc, much like the military and nearly every institution in Haitian society) to define how Vodou and 'sorcery' (les sortilèges) on how Vodou's relationship related to intellectual, religious, national, political, and legal identities that, despite their contradictions, belie the truth of Derrida's claims about the nature of laws (which are meant to be enforced, or always have the potential to be enforced, can have an affirming effect rather than negate, and how the law functions as a form of 'civilizing' and 'policing' in French legal legacies). 

One of the most interesting themes in the text is the malleable, problematic definitions of Vodou (or, 'le vaudoux' that equated the popular religious practice with sorcery). Since the colonial era, legislation was passed to curb the effects of slave assemblies and African-derived religious practices, but it was rooted in how Vodou could be a tool for political power and organizing by slaves, as well as an attack on the ideological underpinnings of the faith (African religious thought was reduced to 'fetishism' by Europeans). This relation of the state in Saint Domingue to popular religious practices continues to rear its ugly head in Haiti to this day, a point Ramsey emphasizes. Indeed, Vatican anti-superstition campaigns, the state's attempts to eradicate Vodou and sorcery with fines and prison time and Haitian legal codes (the Code Penal of 1835 being key here, as well as parts of the Code Rural, likely to limit the amount of dances and maximize rural labor) copying France's legal codes indicate an attempt to 'civilize' the country, promote a better image in a European-dominated world, and undermine popular religious practices to 'uplift' the population. 

However, given that anti-superstition campaigns (such as that of Geffrard in the 1860s, the US Occupation targeting of Vodou and 'sorcery' based on Haitian legal precedent, or the Church's campaigns in the 1890s and 1940s) tend to reinforce belief in sorcery (according to Ramsey) and would actually gain support from Vodouizan (who defined sorcery as something outside of the Vodou traditions), these laws and campaigns clearly had a contradictory relationship with practices they were designed to destroy. Clearly, some Vodouizan saw the anti-sorcery laws as aligned with their own religious practices, and in fact, Haitian Catholics sometimes joined in the Vatican's anti-superstitious campaigns while retaining their own Vodou faith because Vodou and 'superstition' and 'sorcery' are fundamentally different things. Political elites and Church authorities who ignored the distinction nevertheless faced resistance by subaltern actors throughout Haitian history. 

As another ironic twist of fate, sometimes Church-led anti-superstition campaigns, particularly that of the 1940s targeting the mélange (a mixture of African and Catholic beliefs and rituals), could be suicidal as rural Haitian communities then stopped frequenting the churches in a form of religious boycott. Perhaps for this reason, the accompanying political or religious suicide that could accompany these campaigns as Vodouizan resisted led to early terminations of their stated goals (the main examples Ramsey uses being Geffrard's and those of the Church, largely due to popular resistance, etc.). As Ramsey explains, the 'Bizonton Affair' and international reputation likely led to Geffrard's temporary tightening of restrictions against sorcery and African-derived traditions, which ultimately came to a premature end due to a lack of enough power or centralization to enforce it for long (my guess and something hinted at by Ramsey, too) and perhaps due to the perception by Western powers that barbarism reigned in the 'Black Republic' despite these various campaigns. 

This curious, paradoxical effect of state repression of popular religious practices still not overturning the overwhelmingly racist views of Europe and the United States (somehow confirming Haitian retention of 'African savagery') must have shaped Haitian elite attitudes toward enforcing politically unpopular legislation. Moreover, during the US Occupation, American fascination with 'voodoo' and racial stereotypes from Occupation literature, travel accounts, and hunts of cacos and 'bandits, only further linked Haiti with racist views of Vodouizan and Haiti in general by US viewers.

Undoubtedly clarifying the malleable nature of 'sorcery' and Vodou in Haiti throughout history, Ramsey then prioritizes weaving the relationship of Vodou to the state and political power through deep analysis of Haitian and foreign sources, especially intellectual history and ideological currents. Thanks to Ramsey, many 21st century readers now can learn how the late 19th century Haitian lawyer, Duverneau Trouillot, wrote the first ethnography in Haiti in his elucidations of Haitian Vodou (categorizing and explaining it). Of course Firmin, Janvier, Price-Mars, Roumain, Lamothe, Jaegerhuber, Lorimer Denis, François Duvalier, and other important literary, political, and intellectual giants in Haitian history feature prominently in Ramsey's narrative. 

Perhaps due to a paucity of sources, subaltern voices are not at the forefront, but clearly Vodou and popular religious practices have a unique power structure where the oungan (or mambo), communities, and political elites themselves were sometimes tied together in reaffirming ways. For instance, the case of future president Oreste Zamor being accused of hosting a Vodou ceremony, or Hyppolite being known as an advocate for one Vodou temple shows how Vodouizan were politically active, within their own temples, secret societies, and patronage networks with elites or established, formal politicians. Clearly, Freemasonry, the military, and Vodouizan communities could foster interdependent social networks and centers of political activity. 

The intellectual giants of Haiti who sought to foster cultural nationalistic notions of Haitian identity in the 20th century (during and after the US Occupation) and apologists for Haiti and the black race of the 19th century (Firmin, Janvier, etc.) could easily find some value in Vodou, or at least refuted the mythology around the concept. Indeed, according to Ramsey, Firmin, in his classic rebuttal to the scientific racism sweeping across the West, argued for a sophisticated belief system that separated Vodou and African religions from European notions of 'fetishism.' Janvier defended Haiti against her detractors by emphasizing the common people. Price-Mars further explained Vodou in ethnographic and scientific terms. Last but certainly not least, the wave of indigeniste, noirist, and folkloric movements of 20th century valorized Vodou and peasant cultural practices in a variety of ways, including nationalism, economic gain, music, intellectual hybridity, and promoting the cultural particularity of the nation during the wave of pan-Americanism during the Lescot years. 

Dance troups, performance ensembles, radio, classical music, marketing, the creation of the Bureau d'Ethnologie headed by Roumain, a flowering of Haitian literature endowed with peasant characters, rural to urban migration, the dissemination of Protestantism, etc, all contributed to a 'new' perception of Haitian Vodou where penal prohibitions of the faith were decreasingly enforced, despite Vincent's decree in 1935 or Lescot supporting the Vatican's anti-superstition campaign with troops. Foreign anthropologists and scholars also added some legitimacy to Vodou (Herskovits, Hurston, etc.) through a scholarly approach. Even if Haitian elites endeavored only to exploit Vodou as folkloric material while limiting actual religious practice on the stage (or abroad during performances for US audiences), Vodou within Haitian society seemed less stigmatized and, at least during the Duvalier years, more openly acknowledged (despite the Duvaliers  enforcing the articles of the Code Penal a few times), albeit through manipulation and subordination to dictatorship. 

Besides her excellent overview of relations between the state (and its laws) and popular religious practices, sometimes mistakenly lumped with witchcraft and savagery, Ramsey's work is a call to action for additional comparative scholarship on parallels in Haitian, Cuban, and Brazilian suppression of popular religious practices (although Ramsey states that Cuban and Brazilian reasoning was rooted more in criminology). And, as previously noted on this blog, an in depth, historical monograph examining peasant practices and resistance in Haiti would be very much appreciated, particularly in episodes where popular religious practices were key to social struggle. Examples abound in Haitian history, but a few alluded to by Ramsey include the Piquets, the Haitian Revolution, Macandal, Soulouque's decision to declare himself emperor (a Marian apparition apparently!), popular Catholicism and Haitian peasant resistance to anti-superstition campaigns, and perhaps the caco (kako) uprisings against US Occupation. Thus, further examination of specific examples of how Vodou as power figured into Haitian history is needed.

Overall, Ramsey's book is a stunning success of accessible, yet highly academic, first-rate writing that challenges one's preconceived notions of Vodou and Haitian history. Vodou, adaptable given its diverse roots and influences, has survived over 200 years of prohibition, racist denigration, false association with witchcraft, and Duvalierist subordination, ample proof of its resiliency. Ramsey's articulate monograph places this relationship in a broad context that encompasses literary, cultural, intellectual, political, and international relations, as well as regional history, Afro-Atlantic religion, and US imperialism. Vodou's troubled relationship with the state, as a result of all the aforementioned issues, is much more than a simple binary view of Haitian society, as can be seen in the case of numerous Haitian governments of the different intellectual currents that categorized, romanticized, criticized, undermined, ignored, praised, practiced, and prohibited Vodou as the vicissitudes of Haiti in the world at large changed.

Os Afro-Sambas

A lovely classic. I finally listened to the entirety of the album and the light classical touches with Afro-Brazilian samba and religious references work quite well.

Bossa Nova with João

One of my favorite bossa nova albums by one of my favorite artists. This lyrical, brilliant bossa nova guitarist is a talented composer and songwriter whose gentle, soothing, sweet sounds are perfect relaxation music. The swaying rhythms, elegant and restrained playing style, and general ethos of bossa nova are just what I need after today...

Kadans Soukous

An interesting fusion of two similar genres, kadans and soukous. To be honest, I don't detect too much of a 'soukous' influence except in the guitar styles, but otherwise it sounds like it could fit in quite well with the 1970s kadans scene in the Antilles. Nevertheless, it's an interesting listen. Enjoy!

Nayide

One of my favorites from Les Frères Déjean, "Nayide" might be influenced by "Tumbele Wai Se Éma" by Les Rapaces, a French Antillean kadans band. It could just be a coincidence that the chorus melodies are so remarkably similar, or, more likely, Les Rapaces influenced Les Frères Déjean. I would not be so surprised given the long musical exchange between various bands in the Creole-speaking Caribbean and the popularity of kompa/kadans in Guadeloupe, Martinique, Dominica and beyond.