by Hope MacLean
Lumholtz (1900) illustrates a number of god disks that he collected in the 1890s. The designs painted on them represent various deities, their animals, and their powers. Some have simple designs, such as a central hole or circle surrounded by a spoked figure representing the sun, or two deer facing each other. Some have complex designs of plants, animals, and geometric figures. The disks showing many kinds of animals are reminiscent of the yarn painting in the myth cited above, which Tamatsi Kauyumari made in order to create the animals. Another design was an arrangement of figures representing the center and the cardinal directions. Yet another god disk represented astrological constellations. Many of the designs in god disks reappear in modern form in commercial yarn paintings.
Fig. 4.2. Two god houses (xiriki) with thatched roofs, next to a concrete-block house at a rancho in Santa Catarina. The god house at right has a round god disk embedded high above the door. Photo credit: Hope MacLean.
Fig. 4.3. Stone disk (tepari) of Grandfather Fire, used as a stand for a statue of the god in a Huichol temple. The center is marked by a small round mirror called the “eye of the god” (sikuli). The four round figures with a design of beads surrounded by wool represent the four cardinal directions. The long strands of beads crossing the disk represent the intercardinals, as do the diamond-shaped figures of wool. Credit: Carl Lumholtz, Symbolism of the Huichol Indians (New York: American Museum of Natural History, 1900), 31.
The designs on god disks may be repeated in sacred yarn paintings. According to artist Chavelo González, when a person makes a yarn painting as an offering, the painting may be a copy of a god disk. The disk stays in the temple, but the yarn painting is taken to a sacred site and left there as a representation of the family’s spirit. Thus, one way of conceptualizing a yarn painting is as a portable copy of a god disk.
In fact, the substrate, or base material, may be the main difference between a stone god disk and a wooden one. Lumholtz (1900, 24) pointed out that god disks were occasionally carved out of wood or molded from clay. Wooden god disks could be used in the same way as stone ones. In particular, substitution was frequent in god disks used as stands or bases for other objects. Lumholtz (1900, 26) collected a statue of the fire god standing on a stone god disk. Robert Zingg (1938, 628–632) found painted boards used as stands for votive bowls, noting that in mythology, Kauyumari made the first board as a stand for the votive bowls of Rapauwĺeme (Rapawiyeme), one of the rain goddesses. Zingg named the stands hawime itali, or “sacred round boards.” He also collected square boards, which were used in the same way in Tuxpan and which he called simply itali.
I believe that Zingg’s use of the term “hawime itali” as a general term meaning “yarn painting” is a misunderstanding. None of my consultants recognized it as a term for yarn paintings. When I checked the meaning of “hawime,” Eligio Carrillo translated it as “when the corn is dry (Sp.: cuando el elote está seco). I believe that the term probably means “the disk representing the time when the corn is dry,” or the itali of hawime.
Some authors have used “itari” as the Huichol term for yarn paintings generally. This word links the yarn painting to another sacred concept, the bed or mat that draws the gods to lie on it so that they may read the prayers of the maker in the pictures depicted. Juan Negrĺn (1979, 25–26) defines itari as “a bed on which the ancestral gods come to rest and also a field that is prepared for . . . planting.” Itari is also the name of a ceremonial mat that the mara’akate use as a kind of portable altar. When the mara’akate sing during a ceremony, they spread a mat on the ground in front of them, where they put their takwatsi (or shaman’s basket), gourd bowls, and offerings of cash or food given by participants. Traditionally, the itari was a woven mat (Schaefer 2002, 306), but nowadays the itari may be simply a commercial costal, or grain sack, woven of plastic strips. Modern Huichol also use the word “itari” for an ordinary bedsheet (Sp.: sábana; Consejo Supremo Huichol 1990, 8).
While the term “itari” may be used for a yarn painting, I found that all the Huichol artists I interviewed used the term “nierika” instead. Knab (2004, 268) records a third term, wewia, for yarn painting, but I have never heard Huichol use this term.2 Because of its wider aesthetic meaning, I have given preference to the term “nierika” (plural: nierikate), which has multiple meanings in Huichol, all of which shed light on the deeper significance of yarn painting.
Nierika: Face of God
The word “nierika” is derived from niere, “to see,” and ka, “habitual” (Liffman 2002, 140). It suggests the ongoing ability to achieve vision. As I talked to the artists, it became clear that nierika is a tool for achieving shaman vision as well as a representation of visionary experience. Because “nierika” has these multiple meanings—both a representation of the world of the gods and a prayer for vision—a nierika can take many forms. Lumholtz (1900) collected many different objects, all of which the Huichol called “nierikate.” Some look quite similar to yarn paintings, while others are linked only in theory. Even objects with another Huichol name, such as a tepari (Hui.: god disk) or a tsikürü (Hui.: god’s eye), can be considered nierikate. This flexibility of naming may reflect the fluidity of Huichol thinking about sacred objects generally.
Lumholtz tried to organize his collection of nierikate by making a rough division into two categories. He called one group “front-shields,” and all the others “special” nierikate. Even this division is unsatisfactory. As Zingg (1938, 616) pointed out, the term “front-shield” is inaccurate, since the nierikate that Lumholtz describes have little to do with a shield used for protection. Lumholtz tried to synthesize what he knew about nierikate in this description (1900, 108):
The front-shield or neali’ka [sic] is primarily round, because first of all it symbolizes the buckler, which was round; but it has also come to symbolize the face (hence a mask is a neali’ka) or aspect of a god or person: in fact, it may be said to be the Indian expression for a picture, therefore rock carvings are called neali’ka. The round mirrors bought in Mexican stores are also called by the same name. My Huichol informants, who understood a little Spanish, sometimes even used to call these symbolic objects “mirrors,” alluding to the pictures shown on them. The holes in the walls of a god-house,—one above the entrance, and a corresponding one at the rear,—which are always round in shape, are also called neali’ka. The round netted shields . . . are neali’ka, as are also the diminutive ceremonial deer-snares. We shall call these symbolic objects “front-shields,” substituting at times “face,” “aspect,” or “picture” as names expressive of the Indian thought in particular cases. The front-shields express prayers for rain, corn, or health.
The objects that Lumholtz called “front-shields” have some similarity to yarn painting. Front-shields are round objects made of bamboo sticks wrapped with white cotton or colored yarn to form a pattern. Like god disks, some illustrate animals, people, stars, or clouds. Some have a circle or geometric design at the center, surrounded by bands of color. Some are entirely filled in with yarn, while others have holes or gaps in the yarn. Some have feathers attached to the center of the shield or puffs of cotton around the edge. Also like god disks, the designs of front-shields often reappear in modern yarn paintings.
“Special front-shields” were made in various shapes and out of various materials (Lumholtz 1900, 131–137). They include arrangements of sticks, twine, and arrows to represent the waxing or waning moon; circular stone disks and wooden rectangles with designs in beads, wool, and paint; a lump of glass with a circular frame of beeswax and red beads; and even a pear-shaped heart molded from amaranth (Hui.: wave) dough. The Huichol considered all these to be faces or images of gods.
A third type of nierika is ceremonial face painting. The Huichol paint elaborate designs on their faces during ceremonies such as the peyote pilgrimage. The paint is made from a yellow root called uxa, which grows in Wirikuta. Through the painting, a person’s face literally becomes a representation of the face and symbols assoc
iated with the god. Lumholtz (1900, 197,199,201) illustrated a number of these designs.
Lumholtz seems to have struggled to understand the concept of nierika, perhaps because he was trying to find a unifying principle in the objects themselves—in their shapes or external forms—rather than beginning with the idea itself. I suggest that it is the concept that links all the related objects. Lumholtz did manage to tease out some of the basic ideas encompassed by nierika, including the relationship of a face to a mirror, to a picture, to a rock carving, and to various symbolic objects. All these are significant, as I will show below.
Like Lumholtz, Zingg struggled to understand the relationships among nierikate. He lamented the difficulty involved:
The symbolism of the nealĺka [sic] is even more puzzling than the term. The Huichol conception of this is so obscure that Lumholtz got only a glimmering of it. I feel that my data adds a little more. That it is the “face” and not the “front-shield” of the god seems certain. The mythology specifically attributes to the “face” the power of “sight.” (1938, 616–617)
Zingg’s sections on nierikate and sacred yarn paintings repeat Lumholtz’s information, since he was trying to replicate Lumholtz’s work. The information he added to Lumholtz seems fragmentary, since Zingg did not understand the visionary implications either.
Fig. 4.4. Front-shield of Father Sun. Symbols include a, the sun; b and c, water serpents; d, a moving serpent; e and f, two children; g, a mountain lion; h, a tiger; i, a wolf; j, a tiger; k, shaman’s plumes; l, butterflies; m, insects. Credit: Carl Lumholtz, Symbolism of the Huichol Indians (New York: American Museum of Natural History, 1900), 119.
Fig. 4.5. Face painting of Elder Brother Deer, showing deer snares. Credit: Carl Lumholtz, Symbolism of the Huichol Indians (New York: American Museum of Natural History, 1900), 197.
I believe that to understand the deeper meaning of nierika—and thus of what the yarn paintings represent—we must talk about Huichol beliefs regarding shamanic vision. This means exploring the abilities of the shamans, including abilities that might be labelled “psychic” in Western society. In Chapter 1, I addressed the need to understand that whether or not Western readers agree that these abilities exist, the Huichol are operating on the assumption that they do. Beliefs about shamanic vision underpin the symbols and objects that Lumholtz and Zingg tried to interpret and are essential for understanding what they mean.
Nierika and Shamanic Vision
Eligio Carrillo gave me some of the most forthright and articulate explanations of the nierika. Because his answers were so extensive and formed a connected whole, I have quoted him at length. I draw also on my conversations with other Huichol consultants about nierika and shamanic vision.
Early in his career, Eligio described the idea of nierika to an American friend, a yoga practitioner named Prem Das (1978, 132), also known as Paul C. Adams. Eligio said, “I want to see into the visionary world . . . to make good yarn paintings of the gods, spirits, and powers who teach the mara’akate . . . Only by truly seeing them and their hidden world can I attempt to portray them in my paintings.”
Prem Das later compared the nierika to the idea of a doorway in the mind that humans enter after death (1979, 1): “There is a doorway within our minds that usually remains hidden and secret until the time of death. The Huichol word for it is nierika. Nierika is a cosmic portway or interface between so-called ordinary and non-ordinary reality. It is a passageway and at the same time a barrier between worlds.” In this passage, Prem Das is using popular Western notions about near-death experiences and the image of a door in the mind that opens at death. It is a Western point of view, not a Huichol one; however, it does give Westerners a framework for understanding the Huichol concept, and to that extent it is useful.
The idea of a door in the mind, or shamanic “portal,” has been picked up by some anthropologists, psychologists, and New Age writers. George MacDonald, John Cove, Charles Laughlin, and John McManus wrote about shamans using mirrors as portals into the visionary world, and defined “portalling” as “the cross-culturally common mystical experience . . . of moving from one reality to another via a tunnel, door, aperture, hole, or the like. The experience may be evoked in shamanistic and meditative practice by concentration upon a portalling device (mirror, mandala, labyrinth, skrying bowl, pool of water, etc.)” (1989, 39). Charles D. Laughlin (personal communication) describes some sacred art as portals, such as Tibetan mandalas, which are believed to induce visionary or spiritual experiences when people meditate on them.
Nevertheless, when I tried to translate the idea of a door in the mind back into Spanish to Eligio, he did not understand Prem Das’s metaphor.
HOPE: And does “nierika” mean a door also?
ELIGIO: “Nierika” means a face. That’s what it is. It is as though a nierika is coming from the gods; it is what you look for there. It is a face. You look for it there, then you carry it here in the mind.
HOPE: It is the face of the gods?
ELIGIO: Yes, which remains here with the person.
Here he refers to one aspect of nierika, which is the face of the gods that a person sees when looking into a shaman’s mirror. Once the person has seen the face of the gods, he or she carries that face in the mind.
Eligio also translated the word “nierika” as mirror: “‘Nierika,’ this means the mirror. It is used to cure or, accordingly, to see what there is [in the world of the gods]. That is the meaning of ‘nierika.’ It is the mirror of the Deer God.” Eligio refers here to the mirror as one of the tools that Huichol mara’akate use to see into the world of the gods. These are often just inexpensive round mirrors about two to three inches (six centimeters) in diameter that are sold in Mexican markets. A mara’akame may look into a mirror during a curing ceremony in order to diagnose illness or to communicate with spirits.
The Huichol use of mirrors is similar to a Western psychic’s use of a crystal ball or to some forms of divination that use water as a reflective surface (scrying). Eligio refers to this function here. A mirror is a tool with which to see into or reflect the world of the gods. The use of a mirror for divination has deep roots in Mesoamerican thought. For example, Durán described an Aztec idol of Tezcatlipoca that carried “a round plate of gold, shining and brilliant, polished like a mirror. This [mirror] indicated Tezcatlipoca could see all that took place in the world with that reflection . . . It was called Itlachiayaque, which means Place from which He Watches” (1971, 99). In Durán’s time (the mid-1500s), the Aztec still resorted to fortune-tellers “who divined fates by looking into tubs of water.”
A Huichol who wants to achieve the ability to see into the world of the gods makes a nierika as a prayer. Then he or she offers the nierika to the gods, praying that the power will be granted. According to Eligio: “Well, then we look for it [the power of vision], carrying it [a nierika] to these places. For five years, you have to be travelling to these places carrying this [offering].” Yarn paintings are one of the nierikate offered to the gods at sacred sites. Thus, a sacred yarn painting can be a prayer for the power of shamanic vision.
“Nierika” also means the vision itself, or that which is seen by using shamanic visionary power. The Huichol artist Alejandro López de la Torre crystallized all these meanings in one elegant metaphor. He told me that when we look into the world of the gods, it is as though we are looking through a telescope. The gods appear very tiny or far away. The same thing happens when shamans look into their mirrors. The gods are visible as small round images, just like images seen through the wrong end of a telescope. When an artist makes a yarn painting, he or she may try to paint the image of the gods as it was seen in a shamanic vision. Some artists even make their paintings round in order to emphasize their similarity to a round mirror. Thus, a yarn-painted nierika is a physical representation of what the shaman sees in the mirror nierika.
For this reason, nierikate often emphasize circular imagery, with objects arranged around a central figure or around
a hole at the center. Some yarn paintings even have a small mirror embedded in the center of the painting.
Fig. 4.6. Prayer arrow with a notched tip and a netted deer snare, representing the nierika. Credit: Carl Lumholtz, Symbolism of the Huichol Indians (New York: American Museum of Natural History, 1900), 94.
The idea of the nierika as a circular, mandala-like image may draw on visionary experience. Eger (1978, 39–41; see also Eger Valadez 1986a) documents the experience of a young Huichol aspiring to become a shaman. He saw spiral-shaped images while eating peyote. He identified the designs as nierikate belonging to various gods and said they were shown to him by the Deer God. Later he made pen-and-ink drawings of the designs. The designs he drew are circular images with a central figure surrounded by concentric circles of designs.
The tiny round netted deer snare is a particularly meaningful expression of nierika. The Huichol originally made large rectangular deer snares to hunt deer (illustrated in Lumholtz 1902, 41, 203). The miniature deer snare is attached to a prayer arrow as a prayer for shamanic ability. One way of thinking about it is as a snare to trap the Deer God, Tamatsi Kauyumari, who may confer the ability to dream and envision.