A Raw Vision - Contemporary Haitian Art

Most of the Caribbean has a rich tradition of art, but none of the islands are as prolific and unique as Haiti. In comparison to its size and population, Haiti has an abundance of artists, predominantly painters, but also metalworkers and Vodou flag makers. Much of Haitian art has been classified as 'naive' or 'primitive' because of a simple, almost childlike style, usually without the use of perspective.

Even though the plethora of creativity is considered something of a phenomenon, as well as producing some of the world's best art, Haiti also churns out some of the worst. Stalls in front of Port-au-Prince's central post office, and hotel foyers are flooded with bad and indifferent work. These rural scenes are mass-produced for the tourist market, and are on a par with kitsch souvenirs the world over.

History can supply some explanation for the rare talent that distinguishes Haiti from the rest of the region: the slaves' revolt, which culminated in independence in 1804, isolated Haiti from the rest of the Caribbean, and also from an overpowering colonial cultural stranglehold. While the mulatto elite have always preferred to aspire to European cultural interests and style, the peasants have been unaffected by any such influences, and have retained their African spiritual vision.

The major factor that contributes to the singular vision of Haiti's artists is their inextricable link with Vodou in everyday life. Before Haitian art was 'discovered' the artisans served the lwa (Vodou spirits) and the hougans (Vodou priests) with their talents. Their painted murals decorated the walls of the houmfors (temples), and the elaborate sequin flags were used in the ceremonies to summon the lwa.

"It is the special circumstance - the existence of a limitless source of spiritual inspiration....which has made the art of Haiti so effective and important," wrote Sheldon Williams in his book 'Voodoo and the Art of Haiti'.

The concept of marketing this creativity as art was of course imported from the 'West'. An American schoolteacher, De Witt Peters, can to a certain extent take the honour of having discovered the wellspring of creativity in Haiti. Until his arrival in 1953 some of Haiti's potentially great artists were blacksmiths or decorators, occasionally constructing metalwork crosses for the cemeteries or painting the spirit gods on the doors of local shops. (Visual art is an important aspect enhancing everyday life and death and respecting the spirits.) Peters was working as a teacher in Port-au-Prince, but was also trained in the arts. He recognised the extraordinary flavour of the primitivist, and helped the artists to develop their skills by setting up the Centre D'Art.

Hector Hyppolite, considered Haiti's greatest painter, was discovered by Peters, when he and a friend spotted some paintings on a cafe door while passing through the town of St. Marc. Above the door was a prophetic sign which read 'Ici La Renaissance'. Finding the artist, they invited him to join them at the Centre D'Art, and soon Hyppolite was producing his intense and strange works on canvas.

Hyppolite was a hougan, and his works were inspired by his rich dreams and visions. He never lost his allegiance to Vodou during his years of success.

Truman Capote wrote, "because he is the most popular of Haiti's primitive painters, Hyppolite could afford a running-water house, real beds, electricity; as it is, he lives by lamp, by candle in the Trou de Cochon slum, and all the neighbours, old withered coconut-headed ladies and handsome sailor boys and hunched sandal makers, can see into his affairs as he can see into theirs....this is the reason that I find Hyppolite admirable, for there is nothing in his art that has been slyly transposed, he is using what lives within himself, and that is his country's spiritual history, it's singing and worships. See Hector Hyppolite mini-biog.

Another artist (and soon after, a new art form) discovered by De Witt Peters was Georges Liautaud. Whilst driving through Croix-des-Bouquets, he was intrigued by strangely fashioned iron crosses protruding from many of the raised tombs in the town cemetery. The author of these works was a local blacksmith, and in Georges Liautaud's small forge Peters persuaded him to try his hand at a free standing cross with a figure bound to it. Once he was free of utilitarian boundaries, Liautaud's imagination and work flourished.

Croix-des-Bouquets, one of the recognised centres for most Haitian religious practices (Vodou ginen), magic (Vodou makanda) and secret societies (sandwel, zobop, bizango, vlingblingding), is now the heart of the Haitian metalwork movement. The two master sculptors, Gabriel Bien-Aimé and Serge Jolimeau, were trained by Georges Liautaud, and now their various apprentices are producing new works all forged from recycled oil drums.

One aspect of art in Haiti which cannot be marketed is the tradition of painting murals with a political content. Most of these appear overnight, and the artists remain anonymous.The departure of Baby Doc in 1986 inspired a profusion of murals depicting the joys of losing the yoke of dictatorship, and hopes for a new social structure. The mural tradition continued during Aristide's campaign and election, many depicting the rooster (the symbol for Aristide) defeating the guinea fowl (the symbol for Duvalier). During the coup years most of these murals were lost, crudely daubed over with grey paint by the military, but recently new ones have appeared. Some depicting a hand putting an egg back inside a chicken are a direct reference to a comment by a pro-coup parliamentarian who said "There is as much chance of Aristide returning as there is of an egg going back into a chicken".

Any discussion on Haitian art must open up the debate on Naive art, and the effect that Western commercialism has had on it. As Tom Wolfe wrote in 'The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine Flake Streamlined Baby',

"... those poor bastards in Haiti, the artists, who got too much, too soon, from Selden Rodman and the other folk-doters on the subject of primitive genius, so they're all down there at this moment carving African masks out of mahogany - and what I mean is, they never had an African mask in Haiti before Selden Rodman got there."

However careful exponents of Haitian art, such as Peters and Rodman, have tried to be, it is a story certainly not lacking in exploitation. In the 1970s the vortex of creativity shifted to Soissons la Montagne where the Saint Soleil artists commune was set up by the Haitian intellectuals, Tiga Garoute and Maude Robart. The artists were all peasants, and their paintings, in fitting with tradition, depicted the lwa. These representations were not in costume or in a Catholic likeness, but were depicted as form and energy. This was the avant-garde of Haitian art. The group included Prosper Pierre Louis, Louisianne St. Fleurant, the mother of Stevenson and Ramphis Magloire, and Levoy Exil.

Garoute and Robart wanted the artists to avoid the increasing commercialism of Haitian art, and proclaimed that "true artists do not paint for money". Whilst Garoute was espousing his theory that artists would be contaminated by receiving just one penny of profit, he was receiving high prices for Saint Soleil works on the international market. The commune broke up when the 'Cinq Soleils", as they were then called, discovered that their paintings were selling abroad for very large sums of money, yet they were getting nothing. They were exploited for the very 'naivety' that made them popular. They moved out, sold to the highest bidder, and let the art critics decide whether or not their souls had been tainted by making a decent living.

During the coup years, life was hard for Haitian artists. Tourism fell to an all time low, seriously damaging the artists' livelihoods, and, due to the embargo, materials became scarce. This affected the metal workers of Croix-des-Bouquets dramatically as the oil embargo reduced the import of oil drums to nil. Some began to experiment with sheet metal, and Bien-Aimé began incorporating other bits of scrap metal in his work - car parts and wheel hubs. Sequins also became very rare, and in desperation some flag artists began using much larger sequins in order to cover ground faster. The flags produced were unattractive, but are considered a rarity as they are a product of those three hard years.

Now, since Aristide's return, life has certainly improved for the artists. Materials are more readily available, and the market is picking up again due to an increase in foreign visitors. Whether the artists continue to be exploited for their 'naivety', or begin to take their production and distribution into their own hands, relates to a wider question - when will Haitian working people as a whole, gain control over their own economic future?

Bibliography:
Where Art is Joy - Selden Rodman - Ruggles de Latour
Voodoo and the Art of Haiti - Sheldon Williams - Morland Lee
Spirits of the Night : The Vaudun Gods of Haiti - Selden Rodman & Carol Cleaver - Spring Publications
Sequin Artists of Haiti - Tina Girouard - Contemporary Arts Centre New Orleans
Forgerons Du Vodou: Voodoo Blacksmiths - Alain Foubert - Deschamps/Ulys Edition

Haiti's Vodou Blacksmiths

by Charles Arthur

(this article originally appeared in Raw Vision magazine, October 1995)

Haiti is the Caribbean nation famous for its successful slave revolution and, more recently, for decades of dictatorship and political unrest. It has also produced an abundance of creative and imaginative artists. One of the newest art forms to emerge is metal drum sculpture inspired by the rich mythology of Vodou. In a small dusty town ten miles north-east of the capital, Port-au-Prince, over a dozen different artists are turning old metal oil drums into unique and striking relief sculptures.

The sculptures are representations of mermaids, snakes, dragons, angels, devils, and other beasts that, for the foreigner, defy description. For the artists themselves each piece has a significance or tells a story that, more often than not, is strongly influenced by Vodou.

Vodou is the religion developed in Haiti by slaves first brought from Africa in the sixteenth century. When people from Dahomey, Congo and other west African kingdoms were thrown together to work the plantations their religious beliefs and artistic customs fused to become a new religion. Forbidden to practice Vodou by their masters, and forced to convert to Catholicism by zealous French priests, the slaves incorporated images of the Catholic saints into their own pantheon of deities. In this way they could continue worshipping their own gods unbeknown to the white European authorities.

After the revolution that overthrew the slave system in 1804, Vodou remained semi-underground, subject to periodic campaigns of persecution unleashed by the Catholic hierarchy and the mulatto elite. To this day it is practised far more openly in the surrounding countryside than in the capital, and one of the recognised centres for it is Croix-des-Bouquets.

The profusion of Vodou temples, overflowing with painted religious images, carved wooden drums and sequined flags, in Croix-des-Bouquets must provide a rich source of artistic inspiration. This may be one explanation why this town is the home of Haitian metal sculpture. A more concrete answer is provided by the artistic legacy left by a local blacksmith.

The creative metalworkers now working in Croix-des-Bouquets are the second and third generations, all owing a debt of thanks to the form's initiator, Georges Liautaud. Born in Croix-des-Bouquets in 1899, for some years Liautaud lived in the Dominican Republic working as a railway mechanic. Later he returned to Haiti and settled in his native town where he opened a blacksmith shop. He made and repaired tools, branding irons and metal crosses for graves in the local cemetery, and only began working on decorative metal sculptures in the early 1950s. Encouraged by an American teacher who established Le Centre d'Art in Port-au-Prince, Liautaud brought the mythology of Vodou to life.

Metal sculpture made by the 'master', Georges liautaud.

Liautaud's work inspired his neighbours in Croix-des-Bouquets, in particular the Louisjuste brothers who rose to artistic prominence in the 1970s. The Louisjuste brothers took on apprentices who, in turn, passed on the skills of metal sculpture to others in the town.

Just as other Haitian artists have made use of flour sacks for canvasses, and cement bags for papier-maché, the sculptors of Croix-des-Bouquets have been forced by their poverty to salvage the medium for their art. Old metal drums, once used for transporting oil and other petro-chemical products, are purchased for a small amount in the capital near the port. They are brought by cart or on top of a taxi to the artists' workshops.

To prepare a drum for use the artist or his apprentice first removes the ends which are used for smaller sculptures. A vertical slit is then cut along the length of the cylinder with a hammer and chisel. Next the drum is stuffed with straw and paper, and set on fire to burn off any remaining paint and chemical residue. When the drum cools down it is ready to be flattened into the shape from which a sculpture can be created. To do this the metalworker will climb onto the body of the drum and use all his weight and strength to open it up. The flattened drum becomes a rectangular sheet approximately four by six foot wide.

The whole sheet of metal is then hammered to make the metal softer and therefore easier to cut. Any excess charred oil, paint or rust is rubbed off before the artist draws his designs on the metal sheet using a piece of chalk. Then the figure is cut out with a hammer and chisel. The finished piece is signed by the artist and coated with a film of varnish.

Of the sculptors working in Croix-des-Bouquets today the two masters are Gabriel Bien-Aimé and Serge Jolimeau. Bien-Aimé, born in 1951, spent his early years working as a car mechanic. At the age of twenty he was inspired by the metal sculpture being made in his town and became an apprentice to the Louisjuste brothers.

His own artistic talent soon surfaced and his innovations have expanded the form and resulted in steel drum sculptures unlike any created by the artists who preceded him. Bien-Aimé twists parts of the metal to make the work three dimensional, giving a layered depth to the imagery. During the United Nations embargo against the military leaders of Haiti in the early 1990s, when oil drums became difficult to find, Bien-Aimé began incorporating car parts such as axles and wheels into his sculptures.

Bien-Aimé has recently moved a few kilometres away from Croix-des-Bouquets to the hamlet of Despinas. Here, in an attempt to make a "regular little salary", he has built a bakery. He also plans to indulge his second passion - classic car renovation, and vows that the beat-up, 1950s Plymouth sedan in his yard will run again eventually.

Bien-Aimé's contemporary, the other metal sculptor who currently enjoys an international reputation is Serge Jolimeau. He began working with Serisier Louisjuste at the age of twelve. In 1972 he started to sell his own work and has since exhibited in galleries in Mexico, Germany and the United States.

Jolimeau explains that his designs are inspired by Vodou. The mermaid depicts La Siren, the Vodou spirit or lwa with power under the sea who enchants sailors with the melodies of her trumpet. The bull is the symbolic image of Bosou, the master of agriculture, while the snake represents Dambala, the most powerful of the lwa who can bring wealth, luck and happiness. Another recurring theme are the birds, often perched on the heads of the strange figures Jolimeau produces, which he says are included purely because he loves bird-watching.

There are a number of other sculptors displaying talent and creative verve. One is John Sylvestre, aged 37, who was taught first by Janvier Louisjuste, and then by Serge Jolimeau. He started out on his own in 1975. A Catholic and a Vodouist, much of his imagery is inspired by the folklore that abounds in rural Haiti. The winged zobop (ghouls with both animal and human features), baka (demons and devils) and loupgaru (werewolves) are familiar characters from the stories Haitians learn as children. Surprisingly Sylvestre is the only sculptor to honour Ogou Feray, the spirit symbolising the strength of metal, with pieces depicting a warrior driving a sword into a beast.

Michée Rémy, who is the 25-year old stepson of Gabriel Bien-Aimé, started working about eight years ago. He says his ideas come from his dreams of birds and fishes, angels and gods. When he wakes up he hammers his dreams out of metal. He is currently working on a massive ten by six foot long piece cut from a manufactured metal sheet. It is an intricate scene based on a surreal dream about the Garden of Eden.

The four Balan brothers, Jonas, Julio, Joel, and Romel, were taught by their close neighbour, John Sylvestre. In their lakou, or shared compound, the Balans work together to produce art from the circular top and bottom metal drum pieces. Like most of the other sculptors they depict the Vodou spirits in their work. Particular favourites are Agwe, master of the sea, represented by a boat, and the Marasa, the twins associated with children and procreation.

A rising star in the world of Haitian metal art, is Gary Darius who in May took part in an exhibition alongside Jolimeau and Bien-Aimé at the French Institute in Port-au-Prince. Aware of the precariousness of relying on his art for a living, Darius is half-way through completing his studies to be an architect. He is troubled by the increasing influence on the metalworkers exerted by foreign buyers. According to Darius, he and other sculptors have been pressurised to quickly produce made-to-order pieces to the detriment of artistic expression. He also laments the fact that artists have been encouraged to mass-produce pieces and to garishly paint their works in order to satisfy a growing North American market.

Despite these perhaps inevitable commercial pressures it seems that the metalworkers of Croix-des-Bouquets will continue to conjure new and exciting art out of nothing. At 19 years old, Jose Delpé is one of the youngest artists in Croix-des-Bouquets. He is developing a unique style by welding metal pieces together to make three dimensional sculptures that are full of movement and menace. His newer pieces are getting bigger and more adventurous, and it seems he has a bright future as a metal sculptor.

Calendar of Vodou feasts and festivals