At Hopi, the katsinam take corporeal form: They dance, they run, they invoke their namesakes to bring the blessings for which they are responsible.
To outsiders, the idea of “blessings” associated with some of these spirit beings is counterintuitive; they are disciplinarians, and not always pleasant. Unlike what you will hear from New Age appropriators of indigenous ways, the spirits are not all “love and light”; they are eminently practical beings who teach their people to be equally practical. It’s a worldview that is absolutely necessary for surviving harsh physical environments, to say nothing of surviving the invasion of genocidal colonizers. It’s one of the ways our peoples have managed to survive an onslaught now more than half a millennium in duration — by understanding the necessity of hard work and fulfilling one’s responsibilities, to one’s own family, to the people, to the ancestors, and to future generations.
And, as is so often the case, the spirits leaven the lessons with a little levity.
At Hopi, an example is Aya, The Runner. He is actually one of a number of runners, sometimes called the Rattle Runner, or Rattle Racer; occasionally, he’s known as a Whipper.
The races are an essential part of the dances there, just as they are a part of feast days and celebrations and ceremonial functions all over Indian Country. It’s one reason our peoples have been known for their speed and athleticism on the track: Footraces have long been an integral part of our cultures, a mild form of competition aimed at building strength and endurance in an environment of fun for children. But they are something more, too — they function in symbolic fashion, with deeper, more significant meanings attached.
And so it is with Aya. He is a fixture at certain spring dances, appearing in pairs. His immediate task is to challenge men and boys of the village to races; his larger function in doing so is to help bring the rains for the year, since the races are symbolic of the flowing water.
His identity as The Runner is obvious, since he organizes the footraces among the men and boys present. The names Rattle Runner or Rattle Racer come from his mask: Although in his incarnation in the photo above, he wears a sack mask, at dances, he may appear in a solid case mask. In figurine form, the mask may be filled with pebbles or other small objects that turn him into a personified rattle. It’s likely no coincidence that his function is in part to help bring rains; rattles are used in many indigenous cultures to invoke the rains and support fertility and abundance.
So far, he seems not merely benign, but downright pleasant. True, being challenged to a footrace may not be everyone’s idea of a good time, but at the dances, it’s expected, and men and boys know they are potential marks.
However, like his fellow spirit beings, Aya knows well human frailty: our lack of focus, our wavering sense of commitment, our penchant for laziness. And so arises his role as disciplinarian. He often carries a yucca whip, and he will use it on recalcitrant runners, those who don’t comply, who don’t try hard enough, who lose the race. It’s a symbolic whipping, not a severe one, although strands of yucca make themselves felt. But the point is the lesson. And, of course, for those who actually win the race against Aya, there is a reward at the end, often piki (traditional Hopi bread, the making of which is a skill to be mastered by girls and young women).
Perhaps in recognition of the fact that this Aya will be running along the shelf or mantel of someone not from Hopi, carver Josh Aragon has given him a gentler persona; instead of a yucca whip, he carries an eagle feather, used to send our prayers to Spirit. From its description in the Other Artists: Katsinam Gallery here on the site:
Aya (“The Runner”) is handcrafted in the traditional Hopi style, of a single piece of cottonwood root, by master carver Josh Aragon (Hopi/Laguna). Roughly 9.5″ from feather tip to base, Aya wears the classic ruff and sack mask, and carries an eagle feather instead of a yucca whip. Hand-painted in traditional patterns.
Hand-painted cottonwood root
$175 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Fragile; extra handling charges apply
In Josh’s version, he’s softer around all the edges: a sack mask instead of the hardened case mask; a ruff of feathers rather than something that will contribute to the rattling sound; a blanket as a robe instead of a bare chest and a kirtle. But he’s no less traditional for all that — he wears regalia in traditional colors, and the pattern on the back of his robe is of the thunderheads bringing the much-needed rain.
He’s a powerful embodiment of tradition, of culture, of life lessons for the people, in a very small figure. Like the spirit he personifies and the lessons he conveys, he’s a model of compact efficiency — and an example of the effectiveness of traditional teachings.
~ Aji
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