Plate 19 The Carver.jpg (58718 bytes)

CHAPTER THREE

 

                The Artist

 

As artists the Bangwa are unsurpassed anywhere in the forest and upland areas, Even today their reputation is high; it is to the Bangwa carver that the societies of the Banyang villages and the chiefs of the neighbouring Bamileke chiefdoms come for their masks and ornate stools (Plate 41; Figs 10, 11, 12).

    Carving is regarded as an honourable occupation both for commoners and nobles. Professional carvers exist (Plate 19) who have been trained from childhood and who earn their living exclusively through this craft. There are also innumerable amateurs. In fact there is scarcely a man among the Bangwa who has not tried his hand at some time at a mask, statue or anti-witchcraft fetish (Plate 24).

    For chiefs and other royals, farmwork, smithing, trading, housebuilding and other occupations are still considered undignified: in the past retainers traded for them, supervised oil production in the forests and organised other profitable ventures. While commoners today are making fortunes from their coffee plantations, many chiefs are too proud to be seen hoe in hand like a woman, on their farms. A chief’s business is politics, and it is an arduous one. He is available throughout the day – even the night – to settle disputes in his compound and among his subjects. Carving is a pleasant relaxation to occupy him as he patiently attends interminable palavers or conducts witchcraft inquests. Chief Fontem is often at work on a small carving in the house where he receives petitioners and disputants: an ivory ring, perhaps, or a fixture to be added to a complete mask. He frequently puts the finishing touches to masks

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fig10.jpg (66284 bytes)

Figure 10
Royal Stool

 

sold under his aegis at the palace. He dyes plumes for the helmet masks of the Royal society (Col. Pl. 3); he makes detachable horns and does skin-covering. Before his father died (in 1951), he was a full carver, and it is his constant regret that he has not more time to devote to it now. In the past chiefs encouraged their sons to take up carving, as a dignified means of earning a livelihood. They were trained by the resident retainer-sculptors and their work was sold in different chiefdoms, particularly in Eastern Bamileke . Some knowledge of techniques which are disappearing is preserved by royals – as is also the ability to sing or play some of the more esoteric musical instruments and old songs.

THE PROFESSIONAL CARVER  

The most important group of carvers was and still is the professionals. In the past many of them were slaves; or at least this is the tradition. Deals were made between individual chiefs to sell, for a price, valued slaves who were proficient blacksmiths, carvers and so on. In this way a wealthy patron of the arts, like the chief of Fontem in the nineteenth century, could acquire his artists ready-made. This is true of the founder of the Fontem blacksmith group. On the other hand, exact details of the origins of famous carvers are not known, the Bangwa merely saying that a certain man was ‘owned’ by the chief. This implies that the man worked exclusively for his master, selling his work through the palace and occasionally being ‘loaned out’ to other chiefs to carve a portrait figure or a set of Night society masks. It is a curious fact that, in spite of the large prices demanded in the past for the work of an accomplished sculptor (usually a slave for a statue, the Bangwa say) none of the famous names has been perpetuated in large families. The chiefs say that a retainer worked for them. He was rewarded by occasional gifts from the palace and the free presentation of a wife, usually a royal ward. Payment was made to independent carvers in traditional currency (beads, iron rods and to a lesser extent, cowries).

    Bangwa sculptors are free men today, of course. They are, however, not necessarily free agents, but retain important connections with the palace. Some of their work including important items of royal paraphernalia to which sumptuary laws apply, may only be carved in the palace and sold by the chief. Work made from ivory or leopards’ teeth is carried out under close palace inspection. The leopard and the elephant are important royal symbols, and in witchcraft beliefs the most common transformation for members of the family royal is into these animals. If a leopard is killed it is brought to the chief and elaborate rites are carried our before the animal is apportioned among the country’s nobles. The chief takes the pelt, the whiskers (the latter being an important ingredient in royal rituals), and the teeth, which are fashioned into

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Fig11.jpg (55680 bytes)

Figure 11
Royal stool

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fig12.jpg (55473 bytes)

Figure 11
Royal stool

plate20.jpg (65671 bytes)

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Plate 20
Mother and child figure.
Note the leopard's
tooth necklace

plate21.jpg (83718 bytes)

necklaces. They are worn by ranking royal retainers and on ceremonial occasions by mothers of twins (Plate 20). The leopard, as a symbol, is incorporated into utensils associated with the Gong society (Fig. 13), and into royal stools (Figs 10-12). From the tusks of the elephant, horsetail-whisks (Plate 23), armlets and rings are made which only chiefs may own. Ivory was sold as a monopoly to forest traders in the past; today it is only bought, expensively, through the chiefs. Objects made from it by local sculptors are carved inside the palace and are only occasionally sold to distant nobles at the discretion of the chief.

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Some carvers prefer to use the chief as their agent, and will stress a kinship or retainer connection with him to bolster their link with the palace. The chief carries out an important service, buying the masks from the carvers and selling them to his subchiefs and other paramount chiefs for what he can get. He may also commission figures and masks for his friends and, nowadays, for Europeans. There is a polite fiction at the palace that the chief himself carves everything for sale. Chief Fontem who, as we have seen, is a carver himself encourages good craftsmanship. He is astute as well as artistic. At a time when standards are slipping, as both professional and amateur carver rush to capitalise on the sculpture boom, he alone insists that the proper wood be used, that skin is done with care and that masks are correctly finished off.

TWO SCULPTORS

The best known of the Bangwa carvers today is Atem. He leads a free-and-easy life – his prowess with the adze and his devotion to pleasure are equally renowned. When not working he lives for the moment. Once a mask or drum has been completed and the money handed over, the money is mostly invested in drink, which he shares with his crowds of friends. Unusually for a Bangwa he is uninterested in other material comforts. He works in a small decrepit wattle-and-daub hut miles away from the Bangwa centres. A visit to him and his young apprentices involves a steep, muddy trek to a forested mountain slope in Upper Bangwa . In spite of his many opportunities for wealth, he has only a single wife. This is startling to a Bangwa, whether Christian or not, since a man’s success is usually determined by the number of wives housed in his compound. Atem carves more and more for wealthier patrons outside Bangwa. He carves masks for Banyang societies and royal stools for neighbouring Bamileke chiefs. He is even sought after in the cultural foyers in the French dominated towns of Yaoundé and Douala , and he has made a stool for the wife of the President of Cameroon. Although he travels widely (‘to drink’, he says) he returns home to work. Chief Fontem , as marriage lord of his mother, is a ‘father’ of Atem. This connection with the palace justifies the chief’s acting as his agent in selling his work to visitors to the chiefdom.

    Atem carves masks primarily for the Bangwa jujus described in Chapter Four. Plate 21 shows a Night society mask carved by Atem in 1967. He prefers to carve masks associated with jujus which have been recently imported from the forest areas (Plate 43); these are the dance societies which are most popular with Bangwa young men today. He is commissioned by the society, the members of which contribute money to pay for a mask which may cost anything from £3 to £15. These are usually Janus-headed, horned masks, painted in brightly coloured European hues. They are lively, extrovert and

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fig13.jpg (48363 bytes)

Figure 13
Eating bowl used in
Gong society feasts

amusing, a far cry from the expressionistic Night masks or the serene memorial figures of the old artists. Atem also carves drums, vast slit drums which he works in situ in the forest, often simply following the shape of the tree trunk from which they are cut; they are then hauled complete to the owner’s compound. Other drums are elaborately decorated at the ends; there is one which has the portrait of a chief and his princess royal at either end. Atem is also an expert musician as well: the ‘sound’ of the drum is important as well as its appearance. His favourite diversion is a cry-die. He is a fine dancer and a virtuoso on the drums. Col. pl. 12 shows him performing on a slit-gong.

    Ben is another well-known carver. Like many other artists he is considered odd by his friends and relatives. He is separated from his wife, a woman older than himself, a widow of the late chief of Fontem. He is a wanderer, living in different parts of the country and rarely to be found by his enthusiastic patrons. He is an introvert, and very ‘religious’. He carves madonnas Plate 22 arid Christ figures alongside fetishes. His main interest is the supernatural and he is apt to be swept up by any fad. His best work is done in ivory, such as the chief’s royal fly-whisk handles (Plate 23). These are made at the palace and sold to other paramount chiefs – the wealthy coffee planters of the Bamileke grassfields. Ben is a member of a retainer family still closely attached to the palace and when in Fontem works under the supervision of the chief.

    Ben and Atem are typical of the individualistic carver working on his own. Bangwa society gives free rein to individuals and even by their standards the sculptors are allowed great unconventionality. Famous carvers of the past are remembered as ‘Bohemians’ – wits and personalities who refused to conform to Bangwa norms. Nevertheless the Bangwa ‘Bohemian’ artist is not as much of an outsider as he may be in Europe . Art in Bangwa is a job like any other, a job a respectable man would be proud to see his son take up.

THE ‘BLACKSMITH’ GROUP

In Bangwa there are no artists’ guilds and few families of artists. Techniques may be passed on from father to son, from uncle to nephew, even from father-in-law to son-in-law. But carving is a career for the individual which anyone may take up. The Bangwa have no lineages. Rarely do groups of related kin live together in extended families sharing a common economy or craft.

    There is one case, however, of a kin-group co-operating in an artistic enterprise. This is a group of carvers and feather-workers which centres round the head of the Fontem blacksmiths, Ngangala. Members of this group are, of course, primarily blacksmiths, a craft requiring co-operation and the hereditary transmission of skills (see p. 40). Almost as a side-line this group has taken up

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plate22.jpg (41174 bytes)    plate23.jpg (27158 bytes)

Plate 22
Madonna

 

Plate 23
Ivory fly-whisk

plate24.jpg (74654 bytes)

the profession of artist. Exceptionally, its members form a fairly compact residence group and are related to the head of the blacksmiths through diverse kinship ties. Three of the artists in this group share a compound, each with an independent wing. On the whole they work separately, each specialising in a different branch of art. One young man carves figures; his own father was a famous carver of the skin-covered masks associated with the Royal society. Another, the owner of a sewing machine, makes the brilliant patchwork costumes of the massem society. Another is widely renowned for his feather head-dresses.

    The blacksmith group keep up their former connection as retainers of the chief. As the only semi-organised Bangwa artisan group they have taken a lead in the very new Bangwa business of selling old and new works of art, to outsiders. This they do primarily through the chief who stores their work, as it is produced, in his wives’ huts. It is only in the last few years that carvers have begun to make series of masks and figures to be sold to casual buyers.

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Copies are now made of famous masks; scores of them may be seen in the palace cluttering up a food rack receiving their preliminary smoking from a wife’s cooking fire.

THE APPRENTICE

A child who shows talent while playing with a piece of wood and his mother’s kitchen knife may be sent off by his parents as a casual apprentice to an established carver. Atem has two ten -year-olds as apprentices. To begin with they help with the unskilled work, preparing blocks of wood and sharpening tools, as well as working about the compound and running messages. Then they are given the humdrum jobs, such as the initial hollowing out of some of the larger helmet masks. All the time they are expected to watch the master. He gives them independent work to do; repairing an adze for a neighbour or making a wooden spoon. They help with the decoration of the mask: dyeing skins, carving horns, painting. They make simple masks for their young friends, since children also have masquerades which they perform for their elders’ amusement. Only those who show real talent are encouraged to take up sculpture professionally. Others are sent away; or they may train as craftsmen – making domestic implements for the market only. The young apprentice who has a flair begins to copy his master’s work. Then he makes his own, adding his own ideas. Youthful work is given full praise by the Bangwa if it is deserved and originality, within limits, is encouraged. Gradually the young sculptor receives his own commissions and leaves his master. Payment for any kind of apprenticeship is variable; for a kinsman it may be merely services and a nominal gift; for a non-kinsman the sculptor may be promised up to £25, plus various gifts.

PATRONS

Masks and statues are normally commissioned. The patrons of Bangwa sculptors are chiefs, lesser nobles, dance societies and cult associations. If a mask or an ancestor memorial is commissioned by an individual the carver works in his patron’s compound, where he is lavishly entertained until the work is finished. Small drums are also carved in the compound. A noble with a newly acquired title must also have the emblems associated with it: a series of masks for his dance societies, and the terror heads associated with his regulatory Night society. Some of the objects – those that are ritually important – must be carved in secret and this is best achieved in the owner’s compound. In the past the portrait memorials and the Night masks were carved with strict attention to sexual and food taboos; having the carver work in the palace meant that these taboos would not be accidentally or wilfully transgressed.

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Nowadays Bangwa patrons say that sculptors are of such an irresponsible character that the only way to make a sculptor finish the work is to seclude him in the palace and allow him out only when the job is finished.

    Today payment is made in cash, accompanied by innumerable gifts of wine and food. A contract is made before the artist begins the work, but if the group who commissioned it is particularly pleased an additional payment may be made on completion. The amounts for a statue or mask are not small, ranging from a pound or two for a small head or face mask to £15 or £20 for a figure. The great carvers of the past were only paid in slaves, it is said. A figure will be pointed out which cost, according to the owner, a ‘wife’. Since bridewealth today is anything up to £200, prices for works of art may be said to be falling since a new ancestor statue may be bought for £30 today.

    The works of the artist who makes ceremonial objects are not sold in the open market. Another group of carvers, regarded as craftsmen pure and simple, make domestic implements for sale in the market. These include many objects; two kinds of mortars, eating bowls, pestles, spoons, stools and oil pots. They are sold in a separate section of the Bangwa market, by the wives of the artisans.

    Unfortunately discussion of domestic art is beyond the province of this book. Carving for domestic use is not often the work of the professional carver who specialises in masks, figures and ritual objects. Professional carvers, however, do turn their hand to elaborate domestic articles used by chiefs or in societies of nobles. These include royal stools, eating bowls and decorated oil pots, illustrated in Figs 10-13 and Plate 25. The artist, rather than the craftsmen is responsible for those objects, since their success depends on their aesthetic appeal as well as their efficiency as useful objects.

THE CRAFT

    Trees suitable for carving grow in the forests surrounding the more densely settled districts. Chiefs preserve such trees for specific purposes – the carving of a slit-gong or a new set of masks. When a carver needs wood for his work he approaches the chief, owner of the forest, and receives permission to fell the tree. Most of the best trees are now only found several steep miles from the villages. No payment is made to the chief nor is there any rite to be undertaken before the tree is felled today. Once cut down the tree is left to season and taken to the compound where the carving is to be done. Hardwoods are preferred by the professional carver since they last better, resist termites and allow certain kinds of fine detail. Nowadays seasoned wood is hardly used at all and softwood is preferred by the amateur carver. The work is easier but accidents are more frequent; modern pieces frequently develop huge cracks, which the old ones rarely do.

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plate25.jpg (47918 bytes)

The sculptor carves consistently over the whole surface of a piece of wood, so that the piece progresses as a whole. The large block is pared down, taking grain into consideration until the various blocks composing a figure are visible (Plate 19). Fantastic shapes appear which have no relation to the original shape of the wood. In the helmet masks of the Royal society, on the other hand, the artist makes only minor changes in the pole-shape of the original block. The rough work, including all the main shaping, is done with a cutlass, a strong, broad, one-sided knife about two feet long. This is the universal tool of the Bangwa man and woman and is used for all farmwork, for raffia and

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Plate 25
Oil pot

plate26.jpg (41224 bytes)

oil-palm work and for butchering meat. It is an admirable all-purpose instrument which can both fell a tree and peel a kola nut. Some cutlasses which are considered superior, are made by the local blacksmiths; others are imported. On the whole the Bangwa are content with traditional tools. Even wealthy carvers prefer them to those of European manufacture. The Bangwa sculptor has never been limited by his primitive technology. When the outline has been achieved with a cutlass, he uses a mallet and a series of curved chisels for detailing. He sometimes uses charcoal to draw in the lines to be followed. A double-handed semi-circular blade is used to empty the inside of masks and mortars.

    In some of the statues associated with the ancestor cult the figure achieves strength by the crude finish of the wood. In some of the great masks of the Night society the sculptor shows a remarkable indifference to detail (Plate 27). The surface shows the grooves and chips of knife and chisel (Plate 26). This in itself differentiates many of the Night masks and ancestor figures from the finely finished masks of the Royal and Challenge societies. These masks are smoothed with a rough leaf, or, nowadays, with sandpaper. There are some masks which appear to have been worked with a kind of rasp. An even smoother texture, of course, is achieved by skin-covering.

PATINA

A finished mask may be treated in several ways. The Night society masks are rubbed in oil and placed high up in the hut in the smoke of a central fire. Ancestor figures nowadays being made by the family of artists led by the head blacksmith are treated with certain leaves to give the wood an initial blackness. Palm oil is then rubbed on them, as a preservative, and they are laid in racks in a

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Plate 26
Carving tools

plate27.jpg (73995 bytes)

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Plate 27
Double-headed 
Night 'mask'

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Plate 28
A Night mask with thick patina before cleaning

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colplate5.jpg (43930 bytes)

colplate4.jpg (52934 bytes)
colplate6.jpg (50349 bytes)
 

Colour plate 3
Royal helmet mask

Colour plate 4
Modern Royal mask (polychrome)

Colour plate 5
Beaded wine calabash with bird stopper

Colour plate 6
Feather head-dresses

colplate7.jpg (97602 bytes)

 

 

 

Colour plate 7
Beaded elephant mask

plate29.jpg (57225 bytes)

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Plate 29
The same Night mask after cleaning, with raffia attached

special hut, a few feet over a permanently burning fire of green wood which smokes continuously. Patina is acquired through smoking and many masks are found encrusted with soot, mud and congealed blood. On the whole the sculptor does not see this as part of the aesthetic effect of the finished work of art (pace modern collectors who admire mysterious patina). Often parts of the decoration, even whole features of it, are entirely obscured by the dirt of months of neglect (Plate 28). On the other hand it should be pointed out that in the case of the Night society masks the thick, black patina is purposely left to make them more terrifying.

SKIN-COVERING

Skin-covering is a common process used by the Bangwa artist to achieve further textural effects. In some cases the carver himself covers the masks, in others he calls in an expert. Any pliable skin is suitable; monkey, antelope, sheep, even pig’s bladder. Even Conrau, after his death, was scalped and the skin of his face worn by the then princess royal at a funeral celebration in a neighbouring chiefdom. This is the only indication that human skin might have been used for covering masks.

    Skin-covering is a lengthy process. The animal is skinned with great care. The fat is removed by scraping and the skin left to soak in a running stream for several days until it becomes malleable. The hairs are removed with a knife. The skin is cut to a rough shape, and stretched wet over the mask and fastened on to the wood with small bamboo pins. It is forced into the deep cavities of the eyes and over the nose and ears. The mask is then bound with fine, plaited fibres which press the skin firmly against the wood, and left for about a week. During this time the skin hardens and moulds itself round the contours of the mask. The cord is removed, usually leaving indentations. The skin is trimmed round the eyes and mouth and sewn where it joins at the neck or back. Janus masks are given a skin to each face and joined at the sides. The smaller heads attached to large masks may also he covered. The finished mask is usually coloured red and the hairline and beard suggested with black paint. The eye rims are frequently lined with a silver metal.

    Skin-covering adds a further dimension to the masks of the Royal and Challenge societies (Plates 10, 15) and the effects are strikingly successful. No mask of the Night society has been discovered with skin-covering, possibly because the inspiration of these masks is from the east and not from the western forests of the Ekoi and other Cross River tribes where the Royal and Challenge societies probably originated. In the simply shaped blocks of the Royal society masks the use of skin allows the carver an alternative technique for details. Tribal marks on the cheek or forehead need not be incorporated into the carving

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fig14.jpg (61013 bytes)

of the mask but may be added later, being fastened separately to the carving before the skin is added (Plate 10). Even whole features may be added in this way; there are old masks of the type illustrated in Plate 17 which show artificially attached protruding mouths and eyes when the skin peels away. Among the Bamileke many masks are beaded after completion by the sculptor (Fig. 14): Bangwa beadwork appears to be limited to carved fly-whisk handles, calabashes and the sewn Elephant society masks (Col. pls. 5, 7). 

COLOURING AND DECORATION

Most masks (except of course the Night masks) are coloured by the addition of red or black vegetable dyes (from leaves, kola nuts or camwood barks). Both wooden and skin-covered masks are dyed. Nowadays there is a type of mask which is painted in bright polychrome (Col. pl. 4). Many masks become far more elaborate once they have left the sculptor’s workshop. Dyed plumes are placed in a hole on the top. Striated horns, made from bamboo, are inserted at each corner. Cockades made from the fine hair of a ram’s beard are added

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Figure 14
Mask from Fumban,
with beaded headdress
and copper-plated face

plate30.jpg (72818 bytes)

(Col. pl. 3 ). Raffia is plaited and fastened to the chin in the form of a beard; or is attached to the front and back of head masks (Place 29).

MEDICATION OF THE CARVING

Once the artist’s work is over, the mask, statue or fetish is taken to a ritual expert to be medicated. Even drums are medicated (Plate 30). The only carvings which are considered complete once they leave the sculptor’s hands are those of purely domestic use; such as dishes, stools and carved houseposts. Medication gives the objects power: it makes a drum sound well, or a mask dance well. By medication Night society masks acquire the gift of transforming members into witch shapes and an ancestor figure becomes the repository of a piece of the soul of the ancestor. A fetish gains dangerous powers with which it can harm witches. Objects which have been medicated are honoured and

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Plate 30
Newly carved drum, after medication

revered. They are regarded as beings and treated with exaggerated respect and surrounded by taboos. This applies particularly to the ancestor figures, the Night masks and the fetishes. These are presented in public only after elaborate ritual precautions. They are handled by retainers, who are unpolluted by sex and by certain foods. A kungang fetish (see p. 127) is carried by its particular servant who walks with a leaf in his mouth (a symbol of his enforced silence and state of ritual purity) and one bare buttock revealed to enable the power of the object to escape from his body. Dance masks are medicated; henceforth they are respected for their ability to dance as well as for their beauty, but they not considered powerful in themselves.

    The Bangwa loosely call all their figures and masks ‘jujus’. Ancestor figures (e.g. Fig. 15) are ritual objects but they are not fetishes. They are the temporary abodes of spirits during sacrifices. Stories are told of these statues being used as magical implements in the aggrandisement of chiefship. They may fly through the air to carry out the chief’s wishes in any part of the country. In this, however, they are not much different from miraculous madonnas , which are certainly not fetishes. A fetish is an object, fashioned of wood, or any other material which as an inherent power, active at all times. Only the anti-witchcraft figures (njoo and lekat, see pp. 127ff) are true fetishes among the Bangwa art objects, although the association of the Night masks with the supernatural activities has given them a dreaded prestige, which is bolstered by members of the society and the chief. The ‘masks’ are not worn but carried; chiefs say the masks’ power would kill a person who placed one on his head. But the mystique associated with these masks is part of a general aura of mystery which has been built up around this police society.

    These various magical elements are added to the art object by the ritual expert. In this sense his work is considered as important as the carver’s. It may convert the clumsiest effort of an amateur into a mighty fetish. Naturally, however, a statue should express, by its beauty and imposing form, the power inherent in it. The Bangwa enjoy sculpture and have high standards by which they judge it. But their enjoyment is, on the whole, the appreciation of good craftsmanship, a good likeness – not an articulate appreciation of an artist’s vision. A mask is well carved; it must also dance well or efficiently protect the country. A statue may look like the dead chief; but it must also have the power to communicate with the ancestors. What is important is the proficiency of the piece in fulfilling its function; and this proficiency is determined not by aesthetics, but by its magical potential, which is given it by the ritual expert, nor the carver. This is an aspect of art which is somewhat difficult for a European to grasp. It comes home to him when he tries to buy a carving. An uninspired, badly preserved mask may cost twenty times as much as a marvellously carved figure in mint condition:

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fig15.jpg (32171 bytes)

because the former has been medicated. The buyer is buying the work of the ritual expert, and the power accumulated over time, as well as the work of the carver.

    Treatment by the ritual expert (usually a tanyi priest, a father of twins) varies according to the object. We only witnessed the medication of a drum (Plate 30). An elaborate mixture of barks was ground, mixed with the blood of a cock and squeezed on to the carving. The most important ingredient is the bark of the ndung tree; which is believed to have human affinities. It screams when its bark (‘skin’) is removed, and its power is believed sufficient to decapitate the fowl which the owner of the drum brings in order to appease it. Drops of medicine were squeezed over the drum, accompanied by the appropriate incantations. It is blessed by the Night society of the chief and a goat is sacrificed on the drum itself. The type of carving determines the type of medication. The most powerful masks associated with the Night society and the fetishes receive a more elaborate and highly secret medication. It is even hinted that human sacrifice was once involved in the medicating of these masks. But it is not only masks and figures that are treated in this way.

THE CARE OF ART OBJECTS

Bangwa art objects are liable to deteriorate. The climate is wet – the rainy season lasting for up to nine months in the year. Termites are a constant threat. Even in 1967 many great masks and statues were kept out of doors, usually on a bamboo shelf built on to an outside wall. Some ancestor figures stand in lean-to skull-houses often poorly protected from the weather – the feet usually rot first. A few years is enough for a mask to suffer serious deterioration. Not one of the famous beaded manjong masks, in use in the 19505, is extant today. The only Elephant beaded masks are those that have been kept in the drying smoke of a house. The Bangwa house is a solid construction and offers a greater degree of protection than is usual in primitive conditions. However, they are liable to frequent fire hazards; the high thatch roofs catch alight and the fire spreads easily to neighbouring huts. For this reason many Bangwa chiefs prefer to scatter their precious sculptures and other objects among dispersed kin and retainers living outside the palace. Most chiefs who lack royal paraphernalia (‘king-things’ in pidgin English) blame fires of this kind. Chief Fontem and other paramount chiefs blame the harsh reprisals which were inflicted on them at the conclusion of the Bangwa uprising against the Germans in the 1900s when most of the large palaces were then sacked and burned.

    Most masks are stored in lofts today; when they are finally brought out at the request of an inquisitive anthropologist their condition is often very bad. Masks of the Night society and Gong society figures are kept in a secret place

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and are not used very frequently. They may be forgotten for years on end. On the whole masks which are in constant us; such as the dance masks which appear at cry-dies of commoners, remain in a reasonable state. They are kept in a dry place, above a constantly tended fire. Some old masks have lasted particularly well, preserved by layers of smoke and soot. The skin-covered masks are not allowed to collect the kind of black patina which adds wonder to the Night society masks, but they are oiled and cleaned in a more or less regular fashion. They are taken out into the courtyard during brief spells of sunshine during the rainy season. The masks of the Night society, on the other hand, are rarely touched and must on no account be cleaned, though they may be repaired. Cracks are filled with beeswax and prevented from widening with strong vine-rope clips. Once an art object no longer has a use or aesthetic interest it is thrown out and replaced by an object that has. And if something rots there are sculptors to replace it.

INDIVIDUAL STYLES

Although the sculptor is to a certain extent limited by traditional styles there are many opportunities for individual expression. The Bangwa sculptor was not working simply to satisfy ritual functions. Many other objects apart from masks and portrait figures are made and ornamented according to the artist’s or patron’s fancy. Eating bowls are decorated with prancing leopards; the tail of a dog forms the rim of a wooden plate; naked women support a camwood bowl; wooden houseposts with innumerable figures give the sculptor scope for invention; fly-whisk handles are made in a multitude of shapes. The use of paraphernalia is not rigidly fixed; new ideas and foreign paints and ornaments may be added without upsetting traditions. In fact, in cases such as these, the more original the more wondrous they are. A carved antelope’s head bought by the authors in Fumban, a different culture a hundred miles away, performed with great success at one cry; one of the women’s societies received applause when one of their number wore a large pink wax doll on her head. A present of a Guardsman’s bearskin was incorporated with no difficulty.

    The Bangwa carver expresses his own vision within a traditional framework. Rarely are the works of famous carvers merely copied by their apprentices; nor does an artist sit down to re-create a work that has already proved its rigid ritual efficiency. Although the type of mask may be similar no mask is ever an exact copy, except in the case of the very new tourist models. Once a man has developed his own treatment of ancestor figures or Night masks he may carve several which are of the same general form, but they are never identical (see Plate 14). There is a kind of stylistic progression, a weaving backwards and forwards around a central model. The symbolism required for the efficacy of a mask or

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figure is respected. An ancestor memorial gives an imposing portrayal of a chief in full regalia; a fetish must have the swollen stomach and bent knees of the afflicted witch; a Night mask should be awesome. But within this traditional symbolic framework the artist develops his own individual ideals, minimising or stressing certain features, adding or removing details as he feels inclined. In the masks even single features receive different approaches according to the needs of’ the mask-type, or according to the fancy of the artist. Ears, for instance, can be little oblong lumps, striated triangles, or curved peaks (see pp. 131-44). Eyes may be incised circles, triangular hollows, huge windows, egg-shaped, bulging, or cylindrical. The mouth may be closed, wide-open, with or without teeth, laughing or serious. Masks may be painted, skin-covered, decorated with raffia or with feathers, or fur – or left in a natural state.

CHANGING STANDARDS AND MODERN SCULPTURE

Western art critics declare that the Bangwa have achieved masterpieces of sculpture. Judging Bangwa art is not easy, for their standards are not necessarily our own. It is difficult for foreign experts to discriminate between good sculpture and poor imitation. It is rare for the poorest Bangwa figure or mask to lack vigour; yet it is possible to make a comparative assessment of their aesthetic value and of the craftsmanship of the sculptor. Some Bangwa pieces in European museums are no more distinguished than rough-hewn carvings made by youths to pass away a few minutes. Inferior ideas and inferior execution are noticed by Bangwa experts. A comparison of Plates 31 and 32 on p. 61 is illuminating. Plate 32 is not a new sculpture nor an example of contemporary decline but a highly valued old work. Nevertheless it can be seen to be badly carved, with its flattened nose, a drinking horn crudely attached to its chin, and an improbable jaw line. This is not an example of primitive liveliness, stylisation or inventive ness, but of uncertain, unskilled workmanship.

    Poor modern work is made of unseasoned wood so that cracks abound and the extremities drop off with the slightest accident. Lack of symmetry is accidental. These figures, carved in response to a demand for old statues are given an entirely frontal position and are stiff and lifeless as a result (Plate 33). And the same lifelessness also invades the work of professional carvers working on subjects of which they have little experience. Most of them are bewildered when their work is rejected. They believe that this is because the European wants ‘antiques’ and so rows of identical Night masks and ancestor figures are rubbed in oil and soot and smoked above fires and turned into heirlooms for the unwary buyer.

    The problem of a comparative study of new and old work is made more difficult by the fact that until 1966 and 1967 no Night masks or ancestor memorials had been made for many years. Nowadays they are being made by amateurs

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plate31.jpg (40932 bytes)        plate32.jpg (36158 bytes)

 

 

Plate 31
Royal ancestor figure

 

Plate 32
Royal ancestor figure

plate33.jpg (71120 bytes)

or by professionals unpractised in this genre. The only modern Night mask illustrated in this book was made to satisfy the interest of the authors (Plate 21). Today, spurred on by a recent European interest in their work, everyone, trained or not, is chip-chipping away, copying a Night mask, or an ancestral figure. Even the professional works as fast as possible since the prices given cannot compare with those paid by wealthy chiefs in the past. A statue used to take several months to complete. Now a carver spends less than a week. Older men know that these rough and ready methods must detract from the perfection of the work. They say that it used to take twenty years of apprenticeship before a sculptor could or should tackle an ancestor figure, and that a Night society mask should not be attempted with any chance of success until a carver had

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Plate 33
Modern figures made by the Blacksmith group for the tourist trade

both a daughter and a son. The total commitment of the old masters included abstinence from sex and certain foods throughout the period of work. Modern carvings say the elders, cannot compare with the inspired work of the past.

    If neither the sculptor, nor his patrons, believe in shape-changing, the magical powers of the chiefs, the supernatural potential of twin-mothers or the benefits derived from the ancestors and the mystical depradations of the Night society, then the objects themselves cease to communicate to the audience. On the other hand, until the carvers were spurred to copy, unsuccessfully, portraits and Night masks for Europeans, they were content to carve sculpture which still retained meaning in the Bangwa of the 1960s and for which there is a constant public. These are the masks associated with the dance societies to which not the chiefs, but the young men, who have the money, belong. Anti-witchcraft fetishes are still in demand: witchcraft is one of the beliefs which are still strong. The young are not concerned with old things for their own sake. Many of them took the missionaries’ advice and threw out their ‘idols’. A number of remarkable ancestor figures have been found lying in the bush, in deserted compounds (Col. pl. 1). The real need for them has gone. The arrival of primitive art experts from Europe to buy only the old carvings cannot stimulate what is already dead.

    There are few masterpieces left in Bangwa. The first reaction to requests by traders, representing European collectors, was to shout in indignation: ‘How can I sell my grandfather? What will happen to the country if we sell the symbols of the Night society?’ Yet the rising tide of scepticism towards the old cults, encouraged by missionaries and converted youths, persuaded the chiefs and h eads of kin groups to sell the carvings. Only a few diehards have been able to resist the blandishments of the traders, who offer them up to £300 for a figure. The sale is easily rationalised: ‘Why should we keep the dirty old things, lying in the loft, rotting in the damp?’ They are therefore sold. A modern chief needs money to send his children to school and buy a Land-Rover. Some of the figures are replaced by new ones, which are placed in the skull-house. Since most of these sculptures only appear in public at rare intervals most people will be unaware of the change. Masks of the Night society belong not to the society, but to the country as a whole; ancestral figures (Fig. 16) belong to the family, not to the chief alone. The sale of a famous Bangwa figure in 1967 occasioned a public outcry, not because it was sold but because it was sold without consulting the corporate group of owners. Some chiefs cover themselves by first consulting the ancestors, through the figures they wish to sell and the skulls. Food is offered to them, and if it is eaten by them (by the termites) this is taken as a sign that the ancestors agree to the sale. An eager seller can, of course, repeat the sacrifice until the termites give him the correct answer. The chiefs further justify the sale of the

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fig16.jpg (29084 bytes)

Figure 16
Ancestor figure

masks by saying that it is not the mask itself which is important, but the medication. A new mask can go through the same treatment and receive the same mystical powers. However an ancestor figure was originally carved as a portrait of an individual; a copy by a contemporary sculptor is not the same. And as Chief Fontem points out the medication performed by present-day ritual experts is not of the same order as in olden days. To many Bangwa what the European is buying is not an object of aesthetic interest; they do not believe that a Night mask is really going to sit in a museum for people to stare at. For them the huge prices are being paid for their supernatural powers, which the ancient ritual experts gave them and which will be used to their advantage by the Europeans. There has been a reaction against the wholesale selling of the masks and figures. Chief Fontem sent off his retainers to the compounds of his sub-chiefs and nobles to check periodically that the full complement of Gong and Night society paraphernalia is still there. The sale of a famous figure by a chief’s brother occasioned a public outcry and several weeks’ discussions and meetings. The man was fined, ostracised and told to arrange for the replacement of the carving. He did so, the new carving costing him £15. The old one was sold for £100. In a New York sale-room it may fetch up to £10,000.

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