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Jon Hardeman Creative. Jon Hardeman Photography.

This page is meant to give a little information about Salvador and Candomblé, for those learning, playing or teaching Afro-Brazilian percussion and anyone else who might be interested.

Please note that what I’ve written is from my learning and experience so far, it's an ongoing project and I am continually editing and improving it.

Today there are many hundreds of Houses of Candomblé in and around the Brazilian city of Salvador, and many more across the country. People of all colours and from all backgrounds practice the religion.

Through their music, Brazilian artists, most notably Vinicius de Moraes and Baden Powell with their 1966 album ‘Afro-Sambas’ and others including Martinho da Vila, Gilberto Gil, Carlinhos Brown, Maria Bethania and Caetano Veloso, have been responsible for introducing Candomblé to a vast portion of the Brazilian population, to people who before might have had little or no idea of the living culture of the Candomblé religion and its part in their story and their country’s history and popular culture. The songs, the rhythms and dances of the deities of Candomblé, the Orixás, continue as they always have done, to inform and influence all of Brazil’s folkloric and popular music and dance. It’s the rhythms and dances of Candomblé that gave birth to the street music and dance of the Afoxé’s and the Blocos-Afros of the city of Salvador da Bahia. Olodum, Filhos de Gandhi, Ilé Aiyé, Malê Debalê, Ara Ketu, Muzenza, Timbalada and Bankoma, all are born from Candomblé. The most well known of all Brazil's music and dance, the carnival Samba of Rio de Janeiro is a product of the Reconcavo region around and including Salvador. It’s from here, from communities with Samba de Roda, Samba Chula and Candomblé at their heart, where many migrated to the south, to Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo in 1930’s and after to find work. These people took with them the samba of Bahia and the first Escolas de Samba were eventually born.

 

My story in Candomblé began in the early 1980's. I was a percussionist already, learning, exploring and playing the instruments, the sounds and rhythms of Brazil, but I wanted to get deeper, I wanted to learn the story of how the drums and percussion had come to be, of what peoples had come together to make such a rich and beautiful mix of things. For me everything seemed to point to this mysterious thing called Candomblé, to it's ritual practices and to it's beautiful songs, rhythms and dances.

Sometime before I'd been given a cassette tape, an album of Candomblé music and I was becoming more and more familiar with Afro Brazilian rhythms other than the samba of Rio de Janeiro, for instance the music of the North-East, the more earthy sounds of Samba-Reggae and Maracatu. But the music of Candomblé was different, these were African songs, chants, strange rhythms and drum sounds. This wasn't carnival music, this was something other, something I found profoundly beautiful. This was mysterious, ritual music, spiritual music. I learnt as much from that first cassette tape as I could. Eventually in the mid 1990’s, on a mission to learn and to understand more I began my visits to the home of Samba, the heart of African Brazil, Brazil's original capital city, Salvador da Bahia. 

I studied with two renowned Candomblé drummers, Gabi Guedes and Everaldo Santos Brito. Eventually, after many years I was initiated into Candomblé, I received the Orixá Omolu and was made an Alabé, a drummer and caller of songs for the Orixas. And that was the real beginning of my learning about Salvador, about Candomblé and about Brazil, for there in that city is the story and the soul of the country.

My Candomblé House, my place of initiation is Ilé Axé Opo Oyá Igbalé, in Lauro de Freitas, Salvador, and my Pai de Santo, my Candomblé priest is Babalorixá Junior de Oyá Adupé.

1. Africa to Salvador.

The spiritual practices of Ifa, Orisa, Vodun and Nkisi amongst others, become known as the Candomblé religion in Brazil. Candomblé has survived much, and due to the constant oppression of its followers and the repression by the Portuguese and later the Brazilian authorities of anything deemed as threatening the status quo, the religion was still illegal until the 1970’s. For hundreds of years the people of Candomblé had been forced to hide their religion, to disguise what they did as Catholic religious practices or as something purely recreational. 

If you ever watch a good game of Capoeira Angola, African Brazil's dance/fight art form that shares a similar story to Candomblé, you’ll see two people in movement, inside a circle of people clapping and singing. This circle, like the Xiré circle at the beginning of a Candomblé ceremony is the circle of life, where everything we do takes place. Put rather simply the aim of each of the Capoeiristas inside the circle is to catch the other one out, and it's a beautiful thing to see, the twists, the turns, the deftness, the tricks, the danger, the humour, the joy, the disguises and most importantly the respect. For me this game perfectly encapsulates Salvador, it's history, it's people and it's ways. 

Like all port cities Salvador Da Bahia is a place full of characters, of strange stories, mixtures and mixes, longing and magic, but its art, its music and its dance traditions, stemming from a mix of African, Portuguese and Brazilian indigenous peoples are the most striking of things about the place. The city was for many years the main port in Brazil for the receipt of people taken as slaves from the African continent. It is a history difficult for most of us to imagine possible, that people can and did treat other people with such utter hatred and cruelty, as was the case for the people from across the Atlantic who were forced there by the slavers.

The city, a product of the buying and selling of people by European governments, aristocrats, church leaders and business men, now has a larger population of African descendants outside the African continent than anywhere else on Earth. It’s easy to think the story is simple, that people were landed there from a couple of countries in Africa, that they unpacked their music and dance when they got there, changed it a bit and that was it, tropical holiday paradise Brazil. The truth is much more complex and goes much much deeper than that, and once you begin learning about it and really looking at and listening to the city and it’s people, you quickly realise.  

All things in Salvador have something of Candomblé in them, you can't fail to see and feel aspects of it in everything there. Samba was born there in Candomblé, Samba-Reggae too. The city is built from Africa, built on, by and because of the trans-Atlantic slave trade, which saw millions of men, women and children stolen from the many tribal nations and kingdoms of West and South-Central Africa and delivered to Salvador's Bahia de Todos os Santos, the Bay of all Saints.

This trading in humans from Africa as slaves for the New World lasted for hundreds of years, during which time millions of people, whole communities across vast swathes of Africa were smashed apart and the people sold off as labour for the new Brazil.

Candomblé is the umbrella term for the African/Brazilian religions found mostly across the North-East of Brazil. Born from ancient philosopies, practices, knowledge and wisdom and carried to the New World by African priests and priestesses, holy men and women, all transported and forced to work and die in the sugar plantations around Salvador, or as labourers and servants in the city.

Candomblé is remembrance, of all of this, but of a deeper remembrance too, held within us all, of a time of connection and of reverence. 

 

2. The Candomblé Nations.

 

The diverse range of tribal and geogaphical African origins of the peoples and practices that became Candomblé, translates to now as separate Nações do Candomblé (Nations of Candomblé), with each one representing different African tribal/nation heritages, but all existing as and within Candomblé.

Although the names now used in Salvador for the Candomblé Nations tend to be considered accurate descriptions of the roots and the peopling of each one, they were in part originally a product of the slave trade, referencing trans-shipment points or cities used by the slavers, to collect or group their human cargo. So the names of these places, to an extent have hidden the extraordinary diversity of the places, the peoples and cultures that came to make Brazilian Candomblé.

 

In modern day Bahia the Candomblé Nations are as follows:

 

  • Nação KetuThis Nation uses the Yoruban language and so is seen as being only from the people of the Oyo kingdom in what’s now Nigeria. In reality it’s roots also lie with other peoples from Nigeria, including the Egba and the Egbado. Ketu is the most widely practiced form of Candomblé.

  • Nação Jejé. Jejé refers to peoples of what’s now Benin, including the Fon and Ewe peoples, but it’s roots are broader and include the Fanti and the Ashanti peoples of what’s now Ghana.

  • Nação Angola. Although we know Angola as one country, in the case of this Candomblé Nation the name refers to South-Central Africa and the Bantu, Congo-Angola peoples found there. Some of these are the Ambunda, the Cassange and the Bangala peoples of the Luanda region of what’s now Angola, the Kicongo people of Angola and Congo, the Benguelas of the Benguela region of Angola and the people of the Cabinda region of Angola/Congo, also the Macua people of what’s now Mozambique.

  • Nação Ijexa. This name refers to the Yoruba kingdom/city of Ilesha in the Osun State of South-Western Nigeria.

 

These Nations or types of Candomblé are generally referred to as being Candomblé de Ketu, or Candomblé de Jejé and so on.

3. The Orixás.

Central to the practices and beliefs of Candomblé initiates and adherents are the spirits, or entities known as Orixás. In Candomblé de Jejé these entities are known as Voduns and in Candomblé de Angola as Inkices or Nkisi.

Although much is and can be written about the Orixás, in reality it’s very much a personal relationship for each initiate, a process of learning and of growing over time. Each initiate of Candomblé develops their own relationship with each of the Orixás, so while we can write generally about the Orixás and state, as I have here that they are this and that, it’s kind of not real. I could describe vividly and perhaps beautifully a forest. I could convey it’s mystery and it’s messages, but your experience of the forest would be different from mine and different each time you put yourself in it. It’s still the forest, but the spirit of the forest you need to be in to feel for yourself, it’s only you who feels the forest for you, and it’s the forest who senses and feels you in a way unique to you. Please bare this mind when reading the following. You’ll notice Omolu, my Orixá has the most written.

 

The Orixás can be described as energetic forces, embodying elements of nature and spirit. They are free of time and come through drumming and song and manifest in dance. The word Orixá is from the Yoruban word Orisa, with Ori meaning 'head' or 'expression of the divine self’. The word refers to the path each human begins at birth, both natural birth from his or her mother and birth into Candomble at the time of initiation. Ori is the destiny of each of us, the destiny to realise our physical and spiritual selves as one.

Each Orixa represents different human character types, earth energies and elemental forces and are embodiments of these. They are bridges between our mortal human plane (Aiyé) and other planes/worlds/dimensions (Orun), inhabiting and moving between them.

There are male Orixás and female Orixás and there are Orixás considered by some to be both male and female. An Orixá might be a warrior or father or mother figure, she or he may be air, plants and herbs, fire, wind, wood, iron, water or earth. She or he may live in and embody the forest, a mountain, a river or the ocean. She or he may be old, slow, wise and calming, or young, fast and bringing swift transformation.

Every space, place, object, animal, bird, plant and human being is an expression of a particular Orixá and every Orixá an expression of particular ones of those. There are no good Orixás or bad Orixás, they are us and our world in all our/it's variations, colours and states. Collectively the Orixás are symbols of diversity and co-existence, community and communion.

 

Over the years, as Brazil has changed, many Orixás have lost relevance and faded from ceremonies and from broader Candomblé practice. An Orixá particular to an African community's specific needs or geographical situation, an Orixa of agriculture for instance prior to the transition from Africa to Brazil, will have had less and less relevance in the city of Salvador and will have slowly disappeared. Other Orixás like Oya, Oxossi, Xango, Oxala, Ogun and Yemanja, as well as having grown in the Candomblé religion have become very popular icons across all Afro-Brazilian culture.

In Salvador, Yemanja (originally and still a river deity in Nigeria, but in Brazil the Orixá of the oceans and motherhood) is everywhere, with shops selling figurines and paintings of her and restaurants and bars named after her. Nearly all the fishing communities in and around Salvador have their own annual Yemanja festival, but the biggest is held every year on the 2nd February on and around the Rio Vermelho beach in Salvador. This Festa de Yemanja sees the beach packed with Candomblé groups/families, as hundreds and hundreds of people gather, all dressed in white and light blues, giving thanks and gifts to the Ocean from before dawn. Boats laden with people and offerings leave the beach and make their way out beyond the surf, where gifts of flowers, dolls and perfume are scattered and wishes made. Thousands arrive later on as the rest of the day gets going in typically Brazilian style. Samba, Samba-Reggae and Afoxé groups fill the streets with dancing and music. In a country with many major cities by the sea, Yemanja continues to be celebrated in much of the music and dance of Brazil, she's part of the Brazilian psyche, deep in there, a potent symbol of connection, of motherhood, water, children and family. She has become the ocean, the water that forever joins land to land, Brazil to Africa, people to people and the present to the past and future.

 

The main Orixás of Candomblé:

 

  • 1. 'Exu' (male with female versions). Exu is doorways and pathways, the uncertain time before beginnings where choices must be made. He is dynamism, like the sparks flying from a sparkler in all directions at the same time. Exu ithe devil in the trips and turns of the road, the hidden dangers therein, the shadows, the nooks and the crannies. He's the mischievous, troublesome rascal child, moving things from where we put them, hiding things, playing with us. A metal statuette of a male Exu stands just inside the entrance to each House of Candomblé, every initiate entering will lightly stamp their foot three times and speak his salutation ‘Laroye’, as a call for him to open the path before they pass into the House. These Exu statuette's always have him with an erect penis, both as an acknowledgement of male sexual energy and also the male tendency toward self-indulgence and self-gratification.  

  • 2. Ogum/Ogun' (male). The deity of metals/iron, the clearer of pathways, the unstoppable force, the blood that courses through our veins. Ogum is often called the Orixá of war, and his dance is that of a warrior doing battle. With sword and shield in hand he charges and attacks, retreating to gather himself and then charging and battling again. Ogum can be felt as the brute force and straight ahead determination we sometimes need to summon in order to get through things and get something done, but he is also protection. He is technology, both mechanical and digital, he is the process of constructing and using tools, machinery and technological aids.

  • 3.'Oxossi' (male). Oxossi is the hunter, a cunning and wise forest dweller and the king of Candomblé de Ketu. He is a lover of the arts and is the guardian of Axé, the life force energy present in all things. Oxossi is aim and focus, his arrow points, marks and hits the spot. He is the hunter archetype, patiently tracking and skilfully achieving the goal. Oxossi follows Ogum as he clears the path, and once done, Oxossi, on horseback or by foot goes.

  • 4. ‘Omolu’ (male)Surrounded by mystery, Omolu is a being of opposites. He is black and white, light and dark, Yin and Yang. He is the whole, the seer of all things and the the owner of earth magic. Omolu is the child of Nana, the great earth mother and Oxala, the great father. After his birth Omolu was ravaged by small pox, and Nana, who found him ugly, abandoned him and left him next to the ocean, where he was bitten relentlessly by crabs. Yemanja, the mother of the oceans, spotted the baby Omolu and recognising his power and beauty, gave him a home there, in her home, the ocean. It is from the ocean he became Lord of the Earth. Yemanja named him Jeholu, the Lord of the hidden treasure. Omolu is always seen covered in folha da costa (leaves of the coast), he hides his scarred skin, from the top of his head down in a cloak of grasses cut from the land at the edge of the ocean. His face is light so intense that it would blind if looked at. Omolu strips away man's pettiness and falsehoods, he is no sufferer of fools, and children of Omolu often find themselves ostracised, for fear they will reveal the truth. Omolu, although a separate entity, can also be known as Obaluaiyé (king of the Earth), Babaluaiyé (father of the Earth), and Xapanã, or Sapatá (the god of contagious diseases). He is the owner and purveyor of preventative remedies and of pestilence. He holds the power to cleanse the Earth and is regarded as the most powerful of the Orixás. Omolu is both life and death, the holder of the earth, from where life comes and returns. He is all the stories told of land and he is in the respect and understanding needed to live on and of the Earth. Where memory and spirit are lost Omolu will eventually be felt. Omolu is the body of the Earth and the eyes of the sun, he is the timeless truth of existence. 'Atoto' is his salutation, a call for and of silence, the great silence, the quiet of mind and heart needed to hear Earth, the silence of knowing and of unknowing. The deep hum of the Earth, this is Omolu.

  • 5. ‘Ossain’ (male). The master and guardian of herbs, leaves and bark. One of the holder's of Axé and the master of curative remedies. Ossain is the link between the Sun and life on Earth, the one responsible for the process of photosynthesis, the one who gives the Sun's energy to and for life on Earth. Ossian, like Oxossi is a forest dweller, he is the calm and the cooling of forest leaves on the forehead of Omolu. Ossian’s dance shows him preparing remedies, picking leaves, sieving and then pummelling them. He also likes to make alcohol the same way and sometimes becomes very drunk from his own brews.

  • 6. ‘Oxumaré (male). The rainbow and the snake, Oxumaré represents fortune, time and transformation. He is the carrier, the reciever and transmitter of information, the line between points of life. Together with the Orixa Ewa they make the double helix, the shape of DNA, him the male energy, Ewa the female. 

  • 7. ‘Iroko’ (male). The sacred tree, the single tree from the beginning and from which all came. Iroko is the roots deep in Earth and time which survived the great cataclysms that have seen the Human race nearly wiped from the face of the Earth. The tree's roots are deep, they are time, weather, the stationary point from where cycles begin and end.

  • 8. ‘Logunedé’ (male). Although Logunede is male, some consider and portray him as androgynous. He is the youthful mix of Oxossi and Oxum. His domain is the forest and it's rivers, streams and waterfalls.

  • 9. ‘Oxum’ (female). Fresh water, sweetness, innocence and sensuality, Oxum represents these, but also over-indulgence, cunning, slyness and the Machiavellian spirit in us all. Ovum is who brought water and love to the Earth.

  • 10. 'Ibeji'. (children, twins). The boy child and the girl child, the masculine and feminine infant energy within us all. Ibeji is/are joy, innocence and the ingenuity of a child, but also the possible disruptive nature of an unhappy and uncared for infant. For this reason, like with Exu offerings are often made to Ibeji before a Candomblé ceremony takes place.   

  • 11. ‘Nana’ (female). The ancient Earth mother. Perhaps the oldest of the Orixás, Nana is the mixture of water and earth, the swamp, the primordial mix, the conductor of life.

  • 12. ‘Oba’ (female). The oldest warrior and hunter, Oba is a river dweller, the owner of floods.

  • 13. ‘Ewa’ (female). Another deity of water according to some, but her domain is virgin forest, the red sky and stars. Ewa is the mystery of horizons, she shows possibilities. Like Oxumaré she is a serpent, she the female and him the male, together they are transmittance and reception, continuation. They are the keys of life.

  • 14. ‘Oya’ (female). The tempest, the fierce wind and rain, the bringer of change. Oya is a warrior, she is swift transformation, once present she will destroy what’s not needed anymore. Oya is forward and uncompromising energy. 

  • 15. ‘Yemanja’ (female). The oceans and motherhood, Yemanja is the protector of children and fishermen, she is the link between lands and peoples, between past, present and future. Like the oceans she is a force that must be respected and understood, and like the oceans, she can be both calm and gentle, or terrifyingly destructive.

  • 16. ‘Xango’ (male). The owner of thunder and lightning. Xango is celestial fire, the fire of life and death. He represents law, decree, justice.

  • 17. ‘Oxala’. (male). The father figure. Wisdom and harmony, the bringer of peace, the light of conclusion. Oxala is the equal and opposite of Exu, he calms and orders the frenetic. From here at the time of resolution and self-realisation, the cycle, the ages begin again, to the doors of Exu and into the time of separation, through male, then female, again and again.

 

Each Orixá has different types or aspects, there can be older or younger aspects, or calm or more fiery aspects, and when a person is initiated into Candomblé they receive one of these specifically. The same goes for the Houses of Candomblé,  each will be dedicated to an aspect/version of one of the Orixas. A House (Terreiro or Ilé) will also be of a certain Nação, my particular Terreiro for instance, a Candomblé de Ketu House, has the title 'Ilé Axé Opo Oyá Igbalé', meaning a sacred space (Ilé) of the Orixá Oya, and more specifically the type or aspect of Oya known as Igbalé. Here in this House I received the Orixa Omolu, and the Omolu I received goes by the name Omolu Narawe.

4. The Drums of Candomblé.

 

In public Candomblé ceremonies there is nearly always an ensemble of three drums and a bell, there also might be a chekeré. The drums and the bell are all played by initiated drummers, the Ogans, or Alabés. 

The drums are known as Atabaqués, I've heard say they are of Sudanese origin. 

The three Atabaques stand upright in metal or wooden feet (pés) and are skinned only at the playing end of the drum.

For tuning purposes the drums are either fitted with threaded metal rods and nuts, or they’ll use the more traditional ropes and wooden pegs method, much like the Sabar drums of Senegal.

The sticks used for playing the drums in Candomblé de Ketu and Jejé are known as Agidavi.

 

The Atabaques are:

 

  • Rum, the mother drum. She is the largest and deepest sounding, her rhythms are complex. This is the calling drum, from here beginnings, ends and rhythm changes are sounded. The Rum’s patterns, phrases and calls are completely in tune with the dancing Orixa and will indicate and initiate changes in his or her movemental language. The Rum will be skinned with cow or goat skin.

  • Rumpi or simply Pi, the father drum. This is the second largest drum, the largest of the two side, or support drums. The drum skin will usually be made of goat skin.

  • Le, the child drum. The smallest and highest pitched of the Atabaques. Like the Rumpi the drum skin will usually be made of goat skin.. 

 

The Rum has an extensive repertoire of patterns and calls, it is in Candomblé de Ketu and Jejé (except for two or three rhythms) played with a stick and a hand in. In Candomblé de Angola and Ijexa it's always played with two hands.

 

The Rumpi and the Le have many ryhthms which will change depending on the Orixa being played for and the call from the Rum. They are the supporting drums for the Rum and once playing they generally play with no variations. Their job is to play the repeating, mesmeric rhythms over which the Rum sounds.

In Candomblé de Ketu and Jejé the Rumpi and the Le are played with sticks and play the same rhythm as each other, although the Rumpi may sometimes play a slightly more complex version. In Candomblé de Angola and Ijexa they are played with hands and their patterns for each rhythm are always different to each other.

 

The Atabaques used for Candomblé will have always been through a process of consecration, they are made sacred living objects and are then regularly fed and will have offerings made to them just as the Orixas are.

For many, an aspect of Oxum known as Iyangalu is the particular Orixá of the Atabaques.  

5. The Rhythms of Candomblé.

 

Each Candomblé Nation has it's own particular rhythms for the Orixás and for particular parts of a Candomblé ceremony. In many Ketu houses though you'll often hear Jejé rhythms played for certain Orixás, Oxumaré for instance, being an Orixa of the Jejé Nation will nearly always dance with and to the Jejé rhythms Bravum and Savalu. Likewise in Jejé Houses you'll often hear Ketu rhythms, particularly for Oxossi.

Each House will also be of a certain lineage, affecting how that particular House plays and sings, meaning that although the shape of a particular rhythm played for an Orixá in a Candomblé Nation will be more or less the same for all Houses of that Nation, certain things, like how the side drum rhythms, or Rum calls and variations are played may vary slightly.

Names for rhythms may often seem different too, however many rhythms in most Terreiros are often simply given the name of the Orixá they're for and each House will know exactly how that rhythm is played for them. In Ketu Houses, if the Orixá Oxossi is present and is being played and sung for, then all the Ogan's will know it's either his rhythm Agueré, or his particular variation of the rhythm Vassi (for him also known as Cacador or Arawaratafa) that wil be played.

As a ceremony goes on the Pai or Mae de Santo will give directions to the Alabés, watching and guiding the Orixás, many times they'll call for a rhythm and song to stop and for a different one to begin. The job of an Alabé is to know exactly which song to call and so which rhythm to play.

 

This is a list of the most commonly used and lesser known names for the rhythms of each of the Candomblé Nations.

 

  • Candomblé de Ketu rhythms (Except for where stated the Rum is played with a stick and a hand. The side drums are always played with sticks):

Hamunha/Ahamunha. 

Bani/Mojuba/Akabi.

Dobrando/Kitipo.

Vassi/LagunLo, Cacador/Arawaratafa. 

Agueré. 

Ogele/Awo, Hun Tossé (when played for Xango the Rum is played with hands). 

Opanijé. 

Ilu/Adaro. 

Aluja (the Rum is played with two hands).

Arebete/Tonibobe (the Rum is played with hands). 

Oba.

Ewa/Abiaaman. 

Agabi (all the Atabaques are played with two hands).

Ibi/Igbin.

 

  • Candomblé de Jejé rhythms (Except for where stated the Rum is played with a stick and a hand. The side drums are always played with sticks):  

Bata (the Rum is played with hands). 

Avaninha. 

Savalu. 

Bravum.

Sato. 

Jinka.

Adarrum

 

  • Candomblé de Angola rhythms (All drums are played with hands) 

Samba Cabila/Kabila/Cabula.

Congo (faster versions may be known as Congo de Ouro).

Barravento.

 

  • Candomblé de Ijexa rhythms (all drums are played with hands): 

Ijexa and it’s variants.

 

There are thirty-six rhythms listed here, but in reality there are actually many many more. In the Ketu Nation for instance, Ogum's rhythm, a fast 12/8 rhythm which mimicks the sound of attack movements (the slicing and clearing actions of a sword and the actions and sounds of physical work and machinery) is called Lagun Lo but is commonly known as Vassi. The rhythm Vassi can be played for nearly all the other Orixás, what will change are the variations played by the Rum, and although many people will use the name Vassi for all these rhythms, they each in fact have their own specific name. It’s important to note that the name Vassi is sometimes used for all of the Ketu 12/8 rhythms, usually just to specify the pattern to be played by the Rumpi and the Le, which is the same 12/8 clave based figure for all of them. 

In the Jejé and Angola Nations it’s the same, rhythms may be ‘owned’ by a particular Orixá, but (with Rum variations) played for them all. 

The Ijexa Nation has the rhythm Ijexa, owned by Oxum, but again with Rum variations and in many cases Rumpi and Le variations, played for all the Orixás. There will have been many other rhythms played by the Alabés of this Nation, but Houses of Ijexa are now few and far between. The Ijexa rhythm remains and can be played in all the other Nations, mostly for Oxum.   

Across all the Nations, the patterns and variations played by the drums in the Rum part of a ceremony work with the dancing Orixá, they lead and/or follow, emphasising each Orixá's particular movements and characteristics, for instance Oxossi, hunting in the forest with his bow and arrow in his hands, and Ogum, in battle with his sword, clearing a pathway of obstacles, Yemanja dancing the motion of the sea, waves calm and gentle or stormy and destructive, Oxum, bathing herself in sweet river water and waterfalls, and adorning herself with fine gold jewellery. And Ossain picking leaves from the forest trees, then wringing them to make healing balms.  Every rhythm, with it’s nuances and it’s energy plays and speaks each of the Orixá’s. 

6. The Dances of Candomblé.

There’s a book by Yvonne Daniel, a dancer and an academic who travelled to Brazil, to Cuba and to Haiti to study the African religious dances of these countries. The book is titled 'Dancing Wisdom: Embodied Knowledge in Haitian Vodou, Cuban Yoruba, and Bahian Candomblé’. It’s a book I highly recommend, but for me the first four words of the title, 'Dancing Wisdom' and ‘Embodied Knowledge' sum up and say exactly what the dances of Candomblé are. In those few words is what can’t be said with a million. The dance is in the dance and not in any words about them, but I’ll try and say a little.

 

If you’re unfamiliar with Candomblé, then it’s all too easy to see what happens in a public ceremony as only theatrical, to see the possession taking place in a Candomblé ceremony and the dancing Orixá as something put on, play acting almost. We’ve been conditioned to think that only things that are quantifiable, measurable and commodifiable exist, that everything can and must be labelled and packaged, and that realities and dimensions other than the material world we’re tied to simply don’t exist. Yes there’s a theatrical element to Candomblé ceremonies, but if you put aside what theatre has mostly become in our time and place, for us as adults and instead think of how theatre can be for children, how it was for you as a child, the conjuring of and the revealing of the world as magical and mysterious, then you’ll be beginning to understand what that theatrical element of Candomblé is. The dances are certainly not pretence in any way, they’re quite the opposite.

 

I can tell you that in the movements of the Orixás as they dance are stories, histories, but that makes it sound like something external to the initiate dancing, which it is not. Yes it’s the Orixá dancing, yes it’s a connection with more than this dimension, but yes it’s also the initiate and their experience, their telling of their story, their understanding of their journey. For them the dances are a teacher, a guide, a personal ritual.

I didn’t really begin to understand any of this until I began learning the dances. I saw myself as a drummer who plays for the Orixás, for the dance in public ceremonies as well as for other private practices in my Terreiro. I liked to think I was connected, but the truth is I wasn’t, I was learning to play this for this bit and that for that bit, the sequences and parts of the rhythms that go with each of the movements. I was keeping the music and dance elements separate and It quite simply wasn’t working anymore for me. The only way I could get to understand the dances was to learn to dance them.

 

Each dance is made up of specific gestures, movements and sequences for each Orixá, with beginnings and ends, these gestures are symbols much like individual glyphs, together telling a story and conveying a message. Ogum’s dance is a metaphor for preparation, action and achievement. His dance has him firstly preparing for battle, chopping with his sword before retreating to charge. He confronts his adversary, then prepares again perhaps differently, acknowledging his being and the task ahead in the process. He has many things he can do and will either lead the Alabé with his movements, or the Alabé will lead him. Some sequences can change, with the order dependent on the Orixá, in this case the particular Ogum, one Ogum may wish to go to the floor, another may wish to run more. 

As an Orixá dances you’ll see clearly the characteristics of that particular Orixá, perhaps things of the natural world, water, wind, fire, or earth. You’ll perhaps see the physical actions of an animal or a human archetype, or perhaps, as with Ogum forging a path and clearing it of obstacles you'll see the actions and embodiment of the energy or spirit they/we consciously or unconsciously manifest to make or do something. The dances are representations, or rather re-presentations, re-manifestations there in the sacred space of a House of Candomblé.

 

For someone who is (has recieved) the Orixá Oxumaré, when they dance they'll be dancing a snake. The gestures of the hand and the body shape will be that of the cobra, but it's more than simply mimicking, the dancer will embody the cobra, how it is in it’s landscape, the energy with which it interacts with all the elements and dimensions of it’s world. Symbolically the snake is a line, a line that can be any shape and can be drawn anywhere. Like the umbilical chord, Oxumaré is the line that can stretch, feed and allow continuation. As with our symbol for medicine the snake is also representative of harmony when coiled with another snake, in Candomblé it is with the Orixá Ewa, together the harmony of male and female coiled in a double helix. Oxumaré can be seen as dance of fortune and of transformation and like all Orixá dances is a dance of re-emergence. 

Omolu’s dances have him gesturing life and death with his hands, close to the Earth as he slumps, burdened by ailments and the weight of responsibility and the diseases and cures he carries. His main dance sees him walking slowly side to side, hand palm side up signalling life and then palm side down signalling death, repeated twice for each side he walks to. Then he gestures to his shoulders, then his eyes, ears and mouth. Finally and before he returns to the beginning his dance sees him hands across his chest absorbing his illnesses into them, his demons, then the same behind him before he throws off the weight of the pain of this to the sky.  

Yes the initiate, the Orixa will make the shape of the cobra as Oxumaré, or the motions of Earth life and death cycles in Omolu, but those shapes, those forms, those ways of being are physical keys, ways of remembering and of passing on knowledge to help us function in this world and to tune ourselves to the multiple other dimensions we exist in. The dances are a transcendence, a gift, a teacher, a meditation on states of being, they are an expression in the physical world of our metaphysical being.

7. Public Ceremonies/Axé.

 

Candomblé recognizes the life force energy present in all things, everything animate and inanimate, the energy and multiple worlds present in every place, situation, thought, idea and action. In Candomblé this energy is called Axé, from the Yoruban Àşe, meaning among other things 'may it manifest’. It is spoken at the end of prayers and in general to wish good fortune. Axé is the eternal energy that fills the cosmos, and one of the primary purposes of every Candomblé ceremony is the cultivation, replenishment and dissemination of Axé.

In Candomblé, everything is done with ceremony, mostly in private, with only the initiates and the Maé or Pai de Santo present. Many days throughout the year though will have the public ceremonies taking place. These parties are known simply as Festa’s or by the Yoruban word for party or celebration ‘Ajòdún’. Each can be for one or more for Orixás, Ogum, Oxossi and Ossain are brothers and so may be celebrated in the same Ajòdún together. Likewise Oya and Oba, the grand queens (Ayabas) of wind, rain and change may also be celebrated together. Each House of Candomblé will have their own specific dates for when celebrations for particular Orixás are held.

The preparations for a celebration will go on for days prior, as special food and costumes must be made or prepared and the main ceremonial area, the Barracão and the entrances and all the pathways must be ceremonially washed and adorned. The final party will see the House hopefully filled with the local community, with as many guests as will come, with all the Filhos and Filhas de Santo, the Maé or Pai de Santo and the Orixás.

 

Before every public ceremony takes place, private one's will have prepared and made safe the space and all it's sacred objects. Offerings must be made for Exu, the messenger of the Orixas and the guardian and keeper of entrances and pathways. This 'feeding' of Exu, known as Ipadé. With the offerings made and with Exu positively, or rather not negatively involved, the entrances are laid open and a ceremony can happen. Nothing is done in a Candomblé without rigorous attention to detail and the observation of and adherence to strict ceremonial practices and disciplines.

 

The beginning part of every Candomblé ceremony is known as the Xiré, from the Yoruban ‘Sire' meaning wheel or dance of life. In Ketu and Jejé Houses the rhythm Hamunha will sound, calling people into the Barracão for the Xiré to commence. 

The Xiré sees the initiates of the Terreiro. the sons and daughters of the Saints (Filhos and Filhas de Santo) emerge and dance in a slow anti-clockwise circle, while each of the Orixás are greeted with three of their songs, all sung in fairly quick succession. The Maé or Pai de Santo usually sits as this takes place. The Alabé’s play. This is a carefully ordered and executed sequence, with the point being once again to prepare the space and all present, and to initiate contact with the Orixás. At this stage the music is held back, with the drumming always a slow to medium tempo and with the Rum playing pared back rhythmic variations, not the full ones reserved for later on in the proceedings when the Orixás will dance.

 

After the Xiré the main part of the ceremony begins, the part where the Orixas arrive and possession takes place. This part, like the lead drum is also known as the Rum. if all has gone right, if all the preparations were properly made, then for some the trance state begins, possession, as dancing bodies become the manifestations of and vehicles for the Orixas, the bridges between our world and the spirit world.  Here the songs and the rhythms are louder, fuller and more involved, with everyone being encouraged to sing and clap. The Alabés here demonstrate their vast knowledge of the rhythmic sequences for each of the Orixás. This is the longest part of any public Candomblé ceremony, lasting anything from a few hours to all night or all day. It's in this part of a Festa de Candomblé the drums are much stronger and at full complexity, here they converse directly with the Orixás, calling and following, encouraging, lifting and then calming, settling and playing as they leave. The dances of each Orixa and each of the rhythms that are played with them are a language of their own, the universe runs in them, profound things, teachings and memory exist in them. These moments, these visitations are stories in the true sense of the word.

 

At the end of a Candomblé the Paó takes place, three times the Atabaques and bell sound unison strikes, going from slow to quick spaced beats. After the third sequence the Rum is completed and the Candomblé closed. Food is then shared (usually the favourite food of the Orixá the Candomblé was for). Everyone is invited to eat.

Everyone in Candomblé takes great pride in the public celebrations, the Festas, a Candomblé will be considered beautiful if many people came, if many Orixás came, if the dancing and the music was powerful, if the Maé or Pai de Santo controlled and ordered the whole thing well, if the Axé was strong.

In the music and dance of Candomblé, in the songs, the rhythms and in the symbology of the dance movements are the voices and stories of the Orixás. Here are the vibrations, the undulations, the comings and goings, the calling and the whispers of the Orixás and the ancestors. In this music and dance is connection, knowledge and wisdom, histories are remembered, replayed and retold as guide’s and frameworks to help in enabling us to live in connection with ourselves, with each other and with the Earth. Here, in the rituals of Candomblé the spirits talk with us.

The Candomblé religion is not just a potent expression of the African-Brazilian story and identity, but of a story, a journey and identity shared in many ways by us all. 

Àşe, may it manifest.

 

 

 

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