Joy Harjo: "I Pray for My Enemies"

In her first new recording in a decade, Joy Harjo -- the first Native American named Poet Laureate of the United States -- digs deep into the indigenous red earth and the shared languages of music to sing, speak and play a stunningly original musical meditation that seeks healing for a troubled world -- I Pray for My Enemies, newly released in March 2021.
 

Collaborating with producer and engineer Barrett Martin on this unique new album, Harjo brings a fresh identity to the poetry and songs that have made her a renowned poet of the Muscogee Creek Nation and one of the most authentic and compelling voices of our times.
 

In a recent interview Harjo said, "The concept for I Pray for My Enemies began with an urgent need to deal with discord, opposition. It could have been on a tribal, national or a personal level. I no longer remember. The urgency had a heartbeat and in any gathering of two or more, perhaps the whole planet, our hearts lean to entrainment -- that is, to beat together."
 

Latin Grammy-winning producer, composer and founding father of the historic Seattle music scene, Barrett Martin brings a new dimension to Harjo's unique sound-world -- her words and music spoken, sung and explored in a vibrant mix of classic instrumental sounds. Harjo and Martin describe it as "funkified spoken word" inspiring "elegant jazz, urban soul, and inner city, reservation grit." Harjo sings and speaks her poetry, as well as playing saxophone and flute, on an album she describes as "very much of-the-moment."
 

Martin holds it all together with drums, upright bass, keyboards and production duties on I Pray for My Enemies. He assembled an all-star band to explore Harjo's work, featuring Peter Buck (R.E.M.) on electric guitar and feedback; Mike McCready (Pearl Jam) on electric guitar solos; Krist Novoselic (Nirvana) on acoustic guitar; and Rich Robinson (Black Crowes) on electric guitar solos. Additional players include renowned Iraqi oud master Rahim Alhaj; trumpeter Dave Carter and percussionist/backing vocalist Lisette Garcia. Harjo's stepdaughters sing harmony vocals, and her husband Owen Sapulpa plays surdo drum on the album. 

 

Harjo defines songs and poems as distinctly different expressions, and both are featured in the 16 tracks that make up I Pray for My Enemies. Her words and music, older and newer, get a fresh new identity here. The album opens, however, with a traditional Muscogee song "Allay Na Lee No." "Music travels," she says, adding, "It travels through history, ancestors and especially loves ports and waterways."
 

Some of Harjo's defining poems appear here -- "An American Sunrise," "Fear," "Running" and "Remember" -- refracting her own experience as a Native American woman of her culturally defining generation. "Calling the Spirit Back," from an early collection of Harjo's poems, and the new song "How Love Blows Through the Trees" -- written when COVID-19 reached her home in Tulsa, OK -- echo the suffering of a world experiencing a pandemic.
 

"Once the World Was Perfect" is based on a version of a Muscogee Creek creation story, which describes a time similar to now. She says, "We lost our way in the dark, forgot who we were, then had to find our way again."
 

Vignettes and "licks" of songs and poems also appear on I Pray for My Enemies, ranging from the epiphany of "We Emerged from Night in Clothes of Sunrise" to the playful "trickster" piece "Rabbit Invents the Saxophone." Both feature Harjo's soulful sax. "Stomp All Night" delivers all the primal energy the title suggests, inspired by Muscogee Creek social dances. Harjo's poetic music is just the medicine the world need at this time.

The Resonance Theory of Consciousness

The resonance theory of consciousness postulates that synchronized vibrations are central not only to human consciousness but to all of physical reality. Resonance is the ability of a vibrating object or sound source to transfer its energy to another object, making it vibrate in sympathy. The term resonance originated in the field of acoustics, particularly the sympathetic resonance observed in musical instruments, e.g., when one string starts to vibrate and produce sound after a different one is struck. All things in our universe are constantly in motion, vibrating. Even objects that appear to be stationary are in fact vibrating, oscillating, resonating, at various frequencies. Resonance is a type of motion, characterized by oscillation between two states. And ultimately all matter is just vibrations of various underlying fields. As such, at every scale, all of nature vibrates.

Something interesting happens when different vibrating things come together: They will often start, after a little while, to vibrate together at the same frequency. They "sync up," sometimes in ways that can seem mysterious. This is described as the phenomenon of spontaneous self-organization. For example, fireflies of certain species start flashing their bioluminescent fires in sync in large gatherings of fireflies. If two pendulums, swinging at different rates, are placed next to each other, they will gradually entrain until they are locked in perfect synchronization. They entrain because it requires less energy to pulse in unison than in opposition. Nature always seeks the most efficient energy state. 

This synchronization is a kind of physical communication between entities. Synchronized vibrations allow an exchange of energy and information. In the human brain, synchronization, in terms of shared electrical oscillation rates, allows for smooth communication between neurons and groups of neurons. Large-scale neuron firing can occur at specific frequencies, with human consciousness thought to be commonly associated with various kinds of neuronal synchrony. This shared resonance through specific neuronal electrochemical firing patterns creates an electromagnetic field that may itself be the seat of macro-conscious awareness. 

Consciousness through shared resonance takes panpsychism as its metaphysical starting point. This philosophical perspective suggests that all matter has at least some associated consciousness, albeit highly rudimentary in the large majority of instances. In other words, consciousness did not emerge at some point during evolution. Rather, it's always associated with matter and vice versa; they're two sides of the same coin. It is all about vibrations, but it's also about the type of vibrations and, most importantly, about shared vibrations. The more complex the synchronization is, the more complex the consciousness. So, for example, the billions of neurons that fire in the brain together to make a decision and form our experience of the world are extremely sophisticated, yielding a rich and dynamic sense of self or perception. To learn more, read "The Neuroscience of Drumming."

"Things are Looking Native"

Nicholas Galanin is a multi-disciplinary artist and musician of mixed Tlingit/Aleut and non-Native ancestry. His work often explores a dialogue of change and identity between Native and non-Native communities. Born in Sitka, Alaska, Galanin first learned to work with jewelry and light metals, apprenticing with his father. He received a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Design and Silversmithing at London Guildhall University in England, and a Masters of Fine Arts in indigenous visual arts at Massey University in New Zealand. Being trained in both traditional and contemporary approaches in art, he pursues and merges both, exploring the questions of identity, misinterpretation and cultural appropriation.
 

Things are Looking Native, Native's Looking Whiter was the centerpiece of "Unsettled," a 2012 exhibit hosted by the Nevada Museum of Art. It is a digital print that bisects and combines two photographs. On the left is a 1906 Edward S. Curtis image entitled "Tewa Girl," a photograph of an unnamed Hopi-Tewa girl with a traditional "squash blossom" or "butterfly whorl" hairstyle. The right half of the photo-montage depicts Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia from the 1977 film Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope with her classic "cinnamon roll" hair style. Galanin's piece is intended as a commentary on cultural appropriation in popular media, which is largely dominated by white actors and directors.
 

Edward S. Curtis's great body of work, while beautifully executed artistically and doubtlessly valuable, has often been criticized. Curtis presented himself as a scientist as well as the artist, documenting the real Indians of North America in their environment. However, by the time Curtis took his first photograph in the 1890s, the noble savage he presented to the public no longer existed. He has also been known to stage his images to look more Native at the time, for example removing or retouching contemporary items in his photos. Each of the images used for Galanin's art piece represent different aspects of cultural appropriation. One--the desire to depict it in an unchanging, romanticized way as a vanishing race; the other--blatantly reusing a piece of cultural heritage while disposing of all Native elements of it.

"Angakusajaujuq: The Shaman's Apprentice"

In the 1980s, an Inuit elder told Nunavut Canadian filmmaker Zacharias Kunuk a story about a young female apprentice who was learning shamanism from her grandmother. In the story, a sick man breaks a taboo and needs to be healed by a shaman. The young woman and her grandmother travel to the underworld, or "the one below," to find the answers to the man's sickness. The shaman-in-training discovers she must believe the teachings of her grandmother and mentor and to control her fears while encountering challenges and dark spirits. Three years ago, the acclaimed Inuit filmmaker began turning the story into a 20-minute animated film, which was named the Best Canadian Short at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2021. Members of the awards jury at this year’s event released the following statement: 

 

"Zacharias Kunuk's Angakusajaujuq: The Shaman's Apprentice is an enthralling stop-motion that encapsulates an array of textures, sound, and nuanced expressions that collectively invite you into the apprentice's journey in learning traditional knowledge and caring for community while confronting your own fears. You can't help but feel the questions asked of the apprentice are for us all to consider: Who are you? What have you learned?"

 

Kunuk took the world by storm in 2001 when Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner had its world premiere at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival. The film, which won the Golden Camera Award at Cannes, was the first Canadian dramatic feature film ever to be written, directed and acted entirely in the Inuktitut language. Set in the ancient past, the film retells an Inuit legend passed down through centuries of oral tradition. It revolves around the title character, whose marriage with his two wives earns him the animosity of the son of the band leader, who kills Atanarjuat's brother and forces Atanarjuat to flee by foot. 

 

Zacharias Kunuk says his latest film project aims to reclaim Inuit pre-Christian spirituality while experimenting with a different form of storytelling--animation. It illustrates a part of Inuit culture that was "hidden" by colonialism, he said. "I see this short film simply as a tool to start talking about shamanism again, to invite Inuit, especially children and younger generations, to be proud of our rich spiritual traditions and feel comfortable to explore and ask questions about shamanism."

 

Kunuk says he has no plans to stop making films, even though he’s now in his 60s. He continues documenting Elders' stories today. He's been recording interviews with Iglulik Elders who reflect on oral teachings they received prior to colonization. He plans to expand that effort to other communities in the future. "That's what I love to do," he said. "I love to interview Elders because all their knowledge is in their heads."

Contemporary Korean Shamanism

While traditional shamanism continues to decline around the world, it is currently undergoing a revival in South Korea. Korean shamanism, also known as Muism ("mu [shaman] religion") is the ethnic religion of Korea and the Koreans. Though Korean shamanism has suffered centuries of ridicule and persecution, it is now acknowledged to be an important repository of Korean culture and indigenous psychology. Shamanism, in modern as well as historical eras, provides many of the same functions for Korean society as does psychological counseling. Its form is flexible and adaptable, integrating modern elements as needed in order to maintain its relevance.
 

Once viewed as an embarrassing superstition, the theatrical religious performances of Korean shamans--who communicate with the dead, divine the future, and become possessed--are going mainstream. Attitudes toward Korean shamanism are changing as shamanic traditions appear in staged rituals, museums, films, and television programs, as well as on the internet.
 

Contemporary Korean Shamanism, a new book by professor Liora Sarfati, explores this vernacular religion and practice, which includes sensory rituals using laden altars, ecstatic dance, and animal sacrifice, within South Korea's highly technologized society, where over 200,000 shamans are listed in professional organizations. Dr. Sarfati reveals how representations of shamanism in national, commercialized, and screen-mediated settings have transformed opinions of these religious practitioners and their rituals.
 

Applying ethnography and folklore research, Contemporary Korean Shamanism: From Ritual to Digital maps this shift in perception about shamanism--from a sign of a backward, undeveloped Korea to a valuable, indigenous cultural asset. Professor Sarfati masterfully demonstrates how and why shamanism in contemporary Korea is not only the most widely dispersed religion, even more widespread than Christianity and Buddhism, but also thrives through the virtual media of a digital society.