MASKS

What roles do masks play in African art? Discuss and bring in at least 3 examples from 3 different cultural contexts.

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The custom of masking appears to have transcended most African intercultural boundaries. Despite the geographic, religious, economic, and other diversity we have witnessed so far in our analyses of various African cultures, masking has pervaded nearly all of them. What are the commonalities in the way this custom is performed? And how are the details, motivations, and performances of the custom adjusted from culture to culture?

Using four cultures -- Senufo, Igbo, Dogon, and Bamana -- I hope to illustrate both similarities and differences in the reasons for and execution of masking rituals across Africa.

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For a relatively broad introduction, I would like to point out some perceived commonalities in the masking custom. Firstly, a discussion of the significance of the custom. More often than not, masking appears to be a way of contacting, communicating with, manipulating, or honoring the spirit world. The supernatural and its interactions with natural earthly processes -- rain, harvest, birth, death, etc. -- are intricately connected, and masking is a way to navigate that connection.

But the goal of such a navigation varies: it ranges from warding off evil spirits, to calming angry spirits who could effect the harvest, to encouraging fertility, to divination to helping a loved one cross into the afterlife -- the list goes on and on.

Bamana masking shows variety even intraculturally, as within the Bamana cultures there are five types, as we discussed: Ciwara, Ntomo, Kore, Kono, and Komo. Though initially believed to represent a sort of hierarchy, scholars now know that simply come from different regions of the culture with slightly different customs.

Of these masks, however, the Ciwara is particularly interesting in determining the role of a mask in African culture. This is because a particularly utilitarian attitude can be taken towards this mask: despite its striking aesthetic, it is in fact very much a functional tool. As we learned, dances on the grounds to be harvested are performed to calm angry spirits and ensure a bountiful season.

Therefore, we see for the first time masks being used to make pleas from and manipulate the spirit world for its effects on the natural world.

Dogon masks like the Sirigue above can also vary in function. The Sirigue is known to depict the "house of many stories" and has multiple purposes. The first is for important funerals, most likely to combat evil so as to allow the deceased to pass into the world of the ancestors unharmed. Here, we see the supernatural being invoked not for the secular world, but for more things supernatural, a contrast from what we saw with the Chiwara mask.

But the Sirigue mask is not suitable for all tasks. In fact, a different mask is invoked for another purpose: to mark generational changes, it is not the Sirigue but rather the Sigui (or "Great Mask") that is used. Every 60 years, this mask is used to invoke pardon for viewing earlier masks.

But even this, too, seems somehow related to the supernatural, possibly even the afterlife: while the new generations are asking for the ancestors to spare them pain in this life, the older generation could be securing peace in their lives to come.

This firespitter mask of the Senufo actually relates to another trans-cultural phenomenon: the Janus mask. We spoke of these while discussing the Igbo, and yet here it is again, the same term, to describe a mask with the Senufo.

The Janus mask refers to an level of masking association and special powers of protection. Appropriately, it is somewhat double-headed. That is, with two heads and four eyes, it reflects its own importance by demonstrating extra spiritual power, coupled with its ability to see double: the front and the back, the earth and the spirit world, etc.

Much like the Sirigue mask of the Dogon, this firespitting Janus is used to combat evil at funerals and other ceremonies. The proximity, geographically and culturally, of Dogon and Senufo is hereby reflected, despite the tremendous aesthetic differences; masking therefore illustrates this very important phenomenon.

I conclude with a Mwo mask of the Igbo. This mask is part of an important symbolic pairing, Mwo and Mgbedike -- female and male, beauty and beast.

This masking ritual seems to introduce a new function that we have not yet seen with Senufo, Dogon, or Bamana: the function of education. As we discussed, the symbolism of the pairing reflects strong Igbo values, presumably to pass on to children and to remind adults. It teaches the lesson of intersexual dependence: "beauty, while pretty & desirous ‐ may be weak or defenseless alone, [while] beast ‐ often dangerous ‐ can be vital but can work against community harmony. [The] two represent counterposed societal values" and teach about the potential harmony of marriage.

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Masks as tools of agriculture; masks as ushers into the spirit world; masks as education tools; masks reflecting the breakdown of transcultural boundaries; masks reflecting aesthetic uniqueness from one culture to the next -- masking therefore plays a tremendous role in reflecting the complex and nuanced nature of the diversity of African art. United yet unique, similar yet distinct, masks from one culture to the next tell tales of both unity and diversity, making this custom quite a vital one indeed.

Sources (besides lecture):

http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/1978.412.311

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2003/05/photogalleries/dogon/

http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/757032/African-art/57119/Western-Sudan?anchor=ref519988

http://www.jstor.org/stable/20167662

Museum Project

INTRO:

To design my exhibit, I spent time researching initiation processes of various cultures, African and otherwise.

The more I learned about the Jo society and its initiation, the more it reminded me of inclusion processes in groups that I know very well: Harvard fraternities and sororities, "comp" processes and hazing in various clubs, or even a brit milah to welcome a baby boy into the Jewish community. I became interested in rituals of initiation and the tools and objects associated with them. I found that no continent is devoid of societies that perform rites of initiation, and I became very interested in this trans-cultural phenomenon and its aesthetic.

Therefore, the title of my exhibit is:

INITIATION AND ITS TOOLS: INCLUSION ACROSS THE GLOBE

AN IMPORTANT NOTE:

I felt very strongly that initiation tools should be the focus of my exhibit, but as I searched for objects to include, I was surprised to find that it was very difficult to find these sorts of objects catalogued in official existing colletions. The Smithsonian Museum of Natural History contained none from my selected cultures, and other objects from the described cultures were not accompanied by photos, so I did not include them. The Peabody Online Collections Catalogue also did not reflect possession of any such objects.

Therefore, you will notice that the photographs I included are often images from field research, rather than photographs from a museum collection. I realize that this implies that my exhibit would be far more anthropologically focused than art-historically focused. However, just because the objects portrayed do not appear to have yet been analyzed from an art-historical perspective does not mean that they are not prime objects for this sort of analysis.

As usual, the conflict of utility vs. aesthetic was a relevant one in the research I did for this project. I wanted to acknowledge this struggle at the beginning of my analysis, not to dismiss it, but to posit that the images below do not reflect a lack of potential for artistic analysis, to complement and supplement what may seem like more anthropological or ethnographic musings.

THE OBJECTS:

My object

A Jo Initiation Figure

Source: Peabody Museum Collections

A 1920's sign collected by the National Museum of American History from Brooklyn, NY.

It belonged to a knife shop owned by Joseph and David Miller.

The top left objects are a circumcision knife an shield.

A circumcision is a way of initiating an 8-day-old Jewish baby boy into the Jewish community.

Source: http://circcentral.tripod.com/knives.htmlx

Naghol land diving -- Tower and Vine

On Pentecost Island in the South Pacific, Naghol tribe members initiate their men by inviting them to participate in a yam harvest ritual that involves bungee jumping from a tower up to 90 feet high.

One hope for my exhibit would be to include a miniature replica of this tower and potentially a preserved vine. I would be very interested to analyze the tower for its architectural qualities.

Source: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/picturegalleries/2602520/10-top-world-festivals.html?image=3

Sepik Cutting Patterns

Multiple tribes along the Sepik River in Papua New Guinea initiate their men by cutting into their skin with razor blades, giving it a crocodilian texture.

The tools use for this process are less interesting than the patterns themselves; it appears that a common razor blade (as seen in Western razors) is the tool of choice.

These patterns are fascinatingly beautiful, for although they are meant to replicate the texture of crocodile skin, they are intricately detailed and often resemble geographical or zoological features from nature. I would love for my exhibit to include a series of photographs of these various patterns and explanations/analyses of their meanings.

Source: http://www.majorwageratsea.com/Blackwater0409.htm

Mentawai Tooth Chisel

In Sumatra, females in Mentawaian communities are initiated into womanhood through a process of tooth-chiseling, to sharpen their teeth and make them more attractive to men.

The tools used to chisel the teeth are specifically designed and ornamented, and in my exhibit I would include a few for analysis.

Source: http://www.mobile-media.nl/video/teeth-chiseling/

Xhosa circumcision tools: Goat skin, Swadi, Isichwe

Male circumcision is by no means limited to Jewish communities. The Xhosa community in particular initiates its men with circumcision. In this photo are three interesting artifacts: a bandage fashioned from goat skin, swadi (to treat bleeding), and isichwe (used as an antiseptic). The medicines are clearly adorned, and an artistic analysis of their decorations would fit perfectly into my exhibit.

Source: http://www.ezakwantu.com/Gallery%20Lister%20Hunter%20Photo%20Set%20A%20-%20Abakwetha.htm

Sabiny Female Circumcision Tools

Multiple communities initiate their young girls into womanhood with female circumcision, or female genital mutilation. Much like in the Sepik cutting ritual, it looks like Western tools might be used in this process, as the picture implies. However, I would be interested to collect some of these tools to see if they are adorned in any way. I would also be interested to collect garments and jewelry from the surgeon, the young girl, and the onlookers to analyze for significance.

Not surprisingly, however, most literature on this subject does not focus on an art-historical analysis of the tools, but rather on a call for action to put an end to this painful ordeal.

Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/1045516.stm

Sande Helmet Mask

The Sande Society, which is much like the Jo society but spans multiple tribes in multiple countries across West Africa, also practices female circumcision. However, as an all-female women's society, it also hosts many initiation masquerades.

This particular helmet mask belongs to the Sherbo tribe sect of the Sande and was carved by a bundu, or masker. As the object that most resembles other types of maks and human figures that we have seen in this course, I thought it was importnat to include as a more classical representation in this realm of initiation.

Source: http://afrikadawn.com/africa/sande.html

Mormon Undergarments

I became interested in this type of object because of the fact that my freshman year roommate is Mormon and has always been graciously open and honest with me regarding Mormon tradition. Receiving the undergarments is a type of initiation, much like baptism; one receives the garments upon receiving endowment, a blessing that enables one to enter sacred Mormon temples. This rite of passage is one of many steps undertaken to fully participate in the Mormon community.

Sources:

http://www.ldschurchtemples.com/mormon/underwear/

http://www.mormonstudies.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=8:what-are-mormon-underwear-or-garments&catid=1:faq&Itemid=2

Image courtesy of http://dekerivers.wordpress.com/

THE ARRANGEMENT OF MY EXHIBIT:

In total, therefore, I have nine objects:

9 objects:

· Jo initiation figure

· 1920s Jewish circumcision sign

· Naghol land diving tower

· Sepik Cutting Pattern Photos

· Mentawai Tooth Chisel

· Xhosa Circumcision tools

· Sabiny Female Circumcision tools

· Sande Helmet Mask

· Mormon Undergarments

I would want to arrange my objects in a way that is both thematically relevant yet aesthetically inviting, to provoke curiosity and thoughtfulness in both young students and elders.

Therefore, I would put the Naghol tower in the center a circular room. (Ideally, this would be a room with high ceilings, and the replication, although miniature, would still be an awesome thing to behold.) Then, in this order in a circle, I would put: the Sande Helmet Mask, the Jo initiation figure, the Mormon Undergarments, the Jewish circumcision sign, the Xhosa Circumcision tools, the Sabiny Female Circumcision tools, the Sepik Cutting Pattern photo, and the Mentawai Tooth Chisel.

This order was chosen to group objects according to region, while at the same time, to show a transformation from objects that replicate or enhance the body to objects that physically change the body, inspiring contemplation on the role of bodily transformation in initiation, and what this says about dedication in various cultures.

MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS:

As previously mentioned, the biggest challenge in designing this exhibit was to maintain a balance of aesthetic and ethnographic/anthropological relevance. Ethnocentrism is also difficult to avoid when designing an exhibit, but this is why I hoped to choose objects that were as globally diverse as possible (though it is quite clear to me that multiple Asian, Latin, and, of course, African cultures -- among countless others -- may not be adequately represented).

Overall, I found the experience to be exciting and enlightening, and I've found myself wishing that bringing this sort of exhibit to life were of even comparable difficulty to designing it.

OTHER SOURCES:

http://listverse.com/2010/07/17/10-incredibly-painful-rites-of-initiation/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Initiation#Religious_and_other_spiritual_initiations

Enigma and Mystery

Every work of art holds certain dimensions of reality and mystery. What are the most enigmatic elements of your object? What questions might they lead you to explore in your final paper? What evidence could you find to build an argument around?

This is an exciting and multi-layered question for me; so much of both the details on my object and its history are enigmatic, in that they either have not been written about, or that their significances are merely impossible to rightly divine.

When I examined my object in person for 2+ hours, I came up with this (preliminary!) list of attributes that were mysterious to me:

**pictures of what I'm describing here are coming soon, once I get my camera phone functioning for transfer!**

• The body markings are arranged in something like a "dotted line" where each "dot" looks like a little equilateral (or in some cases, isosceles) triangle that points either up or up and to the right. Is the shape of the "dot" (a triangle) symbolic? Intentional? Justa result of the available tools?
• The body markings are not symmetrical; to the right of the breasts and the navel, two lines -- parallel on the left-hand side -- diverge away from each other to the right.
• Similarly, the whole object seams to lean/tilt toward the right. The buttocks are clearly defined and delineated from the thighs on the left, but not on the right. This looks almost inarguably intentional to me; what is the significance of the right-leaning?
• She also leans forward, in almost a bowing or submissive stance -- or is this just the wood settling oddly?
• There is a hole on the top of the coiffure and smaller holes on the sides -- what for? I never read that this could be hung...
• She's so light! Why, compared to other, heavier figures of comparable size?
• Lines/scratch-marks emerging in the shape of a sunburst around the breasts and navel -- intentional, or just the result of available tools?
• 9 red beads on bracelet, 16 red beads on left anklet, 14 red beads and 2 blue beads on right anklet. Are these numbers significant? Why the seemingly arbitrary inclusion of two pieces of blue?
• What color were beads on the bracelet intended for the other hand? How did that bracelet fall off? Where is it now? (It was definitely attached at some point, the indentations are clear.)
• The metal eyes! Are those actual nails? How were they pounded in without destroying the nasal bridge?
• The legs make almost a perfect rectangle -- is this intentional? What is the significants?
• The face is so flat on the bottom -- practically no chin. Significance?
• The markings on the back and the markings on the front are not connected -- is this significant, or was it just impossible to get tools in under the arms?
• What is the significance of the nose ring? How many women wore them at the time? How did he make the rippling pattern in it? What is its significance.

And there are many, many more where those came from.

Still, beyond the physical attributes of the objects that are enigmatic, I am additionally dumbfounded by the number of possibilities regarding its use and ownership:

• It was carried during the Jo initiation journey, but before then -- how was it stored?
• After that -- how was it stored?
• Was it actually put on a staff?
• What happened after the ceremony? Was it really given to young girls?
• At what point in its life was it hanging?? What are those holes for? Hanging in storage?
• How did Donald Deskey get it?
• Why did he not donate it in his first batch of donations?
• Why does no one seem to care about it in the correspondence?

Given these facts, I am choosing between the following frameworks for my paper:

• Semiotic
• Psychodynamic
• Structuralist
• Formalist

Right now, the enigma that most interests me is the body markings, so despite the persuasive thought of a paper that discusses purely gender issues, I am hoping to look at gender through a semiotic lens -- if that is possible! I look forward to discussing the potentials and possibilities further.

"Prestige" Part 2

My presentation and our discussion in class covered most of what I had planned as an elaboration on this topic. But still, a brief summary for records:

• My object was donated by Mr. Donald Deskey. I need to confirm, but if this is he: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donald_Deskey
  that adds quite a bit of prestige to my piece, as it influenced this important designer's later works!
• Donald Deskey donated a collection to Peabody in 1960.
• Then, in 1975, "Mr. Deskey wished to release his life estate into the collection."
• Because this object was donated in the later batch, it could be less prestigious (not interesting enough to donate on the first go-around), or more prestigious (Mr. Deskey might have wanted to keep it because valued it as a find).
• This was one of 64 objects in the second batch of donations, most of which consisted of Yoruba and Warega pieces; it did not receive much attention in the correspondence and was lost among the larger, more popular communities' collections. This detracts some prestige.

Other things that could raise its prestige:

• Kate Ezra (http://mavcor.yale.edu/people/kate-ezra) wrote her dissertation on Jo initiation figures.
• David Rockefeller owned one of these figures.

"Prestige" Part 1

I have chosen to divide this blog post into two parts. The first will be published on the evening of Sunday Nov. 6th, before I have seen my figure in person and read its accession file (which contains information on its collection history); the second part will be published on the evening of Monday Nov. 7th, after I have spent a number of hours with the piece and learning about its history. I am anticipating at least some major changes to my analysis of its level of prestigiousness after I have learned of its acquisition.

LOW TO PRESTIGE IN ITS ORIGINAL CONTEXT

The value of the piece in its original context was determined, I believe, by the commissioner and the keepers of the piece after its initial use. Depending on which of the conflicting sources I choose to believe, the piece would have various levels of prestige.

According to Bamana, by Jean-Paul Colleyn (2009), the jonyeleniw (small Nyele, or nyeleni figure) would be held by select initiates while they "travel for a period of six months and appear in small groups from village to village, carrying a bag to receive gifts," as part of the initiation process. After the initiation rites come to a close, "the statues have their finery removed and are stored away for their next appearance" (33).

This is in stark contrast to the Kate Ezra article I previous referenced, where she says that, post-initiation, the statues are given to young girls as dolls for play. Interestingly enough, in my mind, whether or not Colleyn or Ezra is correct plays an important role in my judgment of the "prestige" level of the object. If the statues are stored carefully and respectfully, sanctioning them for the coming year, I would assume a high level of prestige. If they are stored hastily, dustily, like Christmas lights after the holidays, I would assume a lower level. And if they were merely tossed aside to the children, never restored to their former glory, I would assume very little prestige indeed.

Still, it is agreed that only select Jo initiates get to carry a nyeleni throughout their initiation. I cannot know for sure yet, but my assumption is that the initiates whose families could afford to commission a statuette were the ones who were privileged to hold one. This leads me to believe that the object was, in fact, relatively prestigious.

On the other hand, the standing of the Jo in comparison to other Bamana jow ("religious complex," according to Bamana: The Art of Existence in Mali by editor Jean-Pail Colleyn, 2001) also contributes to my assessment of prestige. Colleyn stated in 2009 that, of all the jow, Jo was not the most prestigious and feared; the komo was. Therefore, this figure is not as prestigious as the figures of the komo would be, in both its original and its current context.

Therefore, my conclusion is that the figure was certainly far from commonplace; but it was also far from being one of the most revered objects in its community.

LOW TO PRESTIGE IN ITS CURRENT POSITION

This portion of the blog post will be addressed tomorrow, after I discuss with curators the history of the object's accession, prices that were debated, the process of negotiation and sale, etc.

Changing Lives of Nyeleni

As a Jo initiation figure, my work has assumed many different lives over the course of its history. It stood on its own as a figure before it was mounted on a staff. Once on that staff, it was only one of many different artifacts brought on a symbolic journey. Upon return, it was separated from its staff and became a self-standing object again. Then, it went from being a purely aesthetic, symbolic piece of decoration – meant for one initiate in particular – to being a functional toy for someone completely different. Most of this, of course, is speculation – until I know about the collection history of my particular piece, these details will be difficult to verify. But, as assumed from the lives of other known Jo initiation pieces, this makes the work flexible in function and meaning.

The life of the work began in the hands of a divinely inspired carver. For this carver, the work was a recipient of wisdom from the cosmos, as merely transferred through his own hands. The piece itself was a vessel of wisdom, and it alone was the concern of its maker.

The piece then became the object of social attention, as it is introduced to its intended initiate. It becomes almost a person, a representative of the ideal wife, a potential “girlfriend” for the initiate, and a means of playful teasing and banter. From a sacred object to a conversation piece – like a coffee-table book or a magazine – the transformation of the object’s life and meaning is an important one.

But then the self-defined object becomes part of something larger. It gets attached to a staff, and that staff gets carried with a number of other staffs. Has the severity of its significance been decreased? Or, has it at least suffered the consequences of distraction from other sources? Does it lose its own intrinsic value?

If the answer is yes, it is about to be even further exasperated, as the initiation comes to a close. The figure has done its job; it is now like an empty vessel, a shell, a mere souvenir of an event that once was. The initiate for whom it was intended has no claim over it; instead, it is given to young girls to play with, for no particular purpose, fertility or otherwise. A mere household object, a means of a child’s distraction; the holiness of the object has practically disappeared.

Not only has the work itself evolved in function and meaning, but interpretations of the work have evolved, as well. As Kate Ezra pointed out in the article cited below, figures like this were once considered to be fertility dolls, until that theory was clearly disproved. Later, it was considered to be a depiction of a deceased family member; only later was this interpretation found to be pure speculation. Just as the meaning of the piece itself changed over time, historian’s interpretation of both function and meaning are equally fluid.

To me, this all emphasizes the overly simplistic nature of inarguable definitions and distinctions. Just like our minds, an object’s significance is fluid, as are the interpretations of it. To slap a categorization or a definition onto a piece of artwork with a much more nuanced meaning is neglectful of the true intent and real life of that piece of artwork.

Blog for 10/24

Discuss all the steps the artist needed to fulfill to complete the

work. Who were the likely patrons? What role might they have had in deciding the

form the work assumed.

For this blog post I was fortunate enough to have a book called The Making of Bamana Sculpture, by Sarah C. Brett-Smith at Rutgers University. The book conveniently delineates every step in the process of being a Bamana sculpter, including interactions with the spirits, negotiations in the human world, the economics of the commission, the place, timing, and pacing of the caring, the artist's motivation, his aesthetic objectives, and the process of carving itself. I will attempt to summarize and interpret as many of these categories as I find relevant!

First, to become a sculptor and get commissioned for work:

To become a working sculptor in Bamana culture requires a great deal of work and apprenticeship. A sculptor has a unique power that is not granted lightly. He must learn to control this power, this nyama, or “a potential power to act in the world that is inherently dangerous” (8), once he receives it.

The sculptor must develop a relationship with the spirit world that makes it accessible to him. As it turns out, this "relationship with the spirits feminizes the master sculptor, and... this process has social as well as ritual dimensions" (84).

Once developed, a master sculptor tends to have a specific personality. “Famous sculptors are difficult individuals. They are cantankerous at best, forthright to the point of rudeness, and their generally exceptional intelligence is often directed with venomous intent. They may, in the full flow of speech, stop abruptly, stare off into space, and simply walk away if their spirit calls.” (48)

Even then, individuals or communities in need of a sculptor's service have different artists to choose from, and "criteria for choosing a carver reveal striking similarities to those employed in evaluating women for marriage… clients assess the artist as though he were to become the ‘mother’ of the ritual object they are seeking.” (84)

Second, to negotiate with the client:

Artwork can be commissioned on behalf of an individual, or on behalf of an entire community. If on behalf of a community, the commissioner will be what is called a KOGLKJ. If on behalf of an individual, the commissioner will simply be a "cekun," a "leader of men, an important person."

"Komo masks and other communally owned objects have clear public functions, but… small human figures are usually commissioned by individuals," the book clarifies (100). Therefore, my piece was likely commissioned by a cekun.

Once the cekun chooses the artists, they must agree on the terms. Most often, the sculptor chooses not to inquire into the functional purpose of the piece. The artist distances himself from the client’s goals, maintaining a “know-nothing” policy. “This attitude of nonjudgmental comprehension enables the sculptor to listen to his clients’ ritual and psychic needs with acute attention" (101).

The details of the piece itself must be negotiated. Often, the "Bamana client often makes specific visual requests: the horns of their Komo mask must be longer than those of village x, the old mask had too many teeth, or the human figure bust be a likeness of the client’s grandfather" (101). But, when it comes down to it, the artist has the final say; the commissioner, in reality, has very little role in deciding the form of the work:

"When the emissary or client approaches the sculptor, he will mention these specifications, and the aesthetic dialogue that results is an accepted part of the commission process, for the artist does not wish to carve an object that will diminish his reputation. Sculptors acknowledge that they have a responsibility to fulfill their clientele’s visual expectation… however, they also direct their more obtuse clients." (101)

Third, to determine the payment:

It is important to note that “what we term ‘payments’ for ritual carvings are still largely viewed as ‘gifts’ or laada by the Bamana” (107). The commissioner must pay the artist in three installments, all with different intentions: “subsistence for both the sculptor and his extended family for the duration of the commission [usually grain, a sheep or goat, and payment of ongoing expenses], ritual offerings made during the course of the sculpture’s execution, and the exchange of cattle, other livestock, and/or slaves for the finished object” (107)

Fourth, to divine the details of the piece:

Determining the image of the piece involves "prolonged attempts to obtain visionary images through a spirit familiar" (179). The visual phenomena that they experience in these attempts are signs form another world, so when recreated, “their importance does not like in their appearance, but in their function as an abstract code that enables the artist to communicate with the invisible” (179).

Often to “harness the inspiration that comes from the alternate world,” the artist must “protect himself by ingesting special drugs, aim for a visual equilibrium that does not threaten traditional assumptions, and develop his visual memory so that he can recall the exact features of a mask he ahs only seen preifly by night. Finally, he must maintain a sexual abstinence that assures his purity when at last he picks up his adze" (179).

Therefore, despite the important role of the commissioner, deciding the form of the artwork lies far from the commissioner; in fact, it lies beyond the artist himself and in the world of the divine.