{"title":"从两首《IfáVerses》和《Ojúde》看约鲁巴马术人物的历史和象学-Ọ 巴节","authors":"A. Akande","doi":"10.1162/afar_a_00655","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"| african arts SUMMER 2022 VOL. 55, NO. 2 This study probes into the iconology, history, and representation of the horseman figure in Yorùbáland and art. Although literature abounds on this topic, many such writings have approached the topic from the investigation of visual cultures and plastic representation of the horse. The present study employs multidimensional and unconventional approaches arising from considerations of iconology, religion, orature, and socioreligious performative festivals among the Yorùbá. The aim is to expand the research frontiers of the history of the horse and representation of the horseman figure in Yorùbáland and add new narratives to existing discourse on the topic. Following extensive and perplexing scholarship on the horse and equestrian figure in Yorùbáland, the present research is premised on sources guided by the Yorùbá maxim ọ̀rọ̀ sùnùkùn, oju sùnnùkùn ni a fi nwòó, meaning, “a bewildering situation requires an infrequent approach.” This maxim is generally recalled when a situation seems to defy known solutions. Such puzzles require unusual approaches. Here, the proverb is recalled to justify different methods of inquiry, especially those unexpected from an art historian like me. Beyond the historical importance of the horse as a war machine and object of prestige—which I can justifiably say has been overflogged by scholars from different academic disciplines—the iconology of the equestrian figure in Yorùbá society is so strong that the horse’s importance is reflected far beyond academia; it even has a place in the play of Yorùbá children. I remember quite vividly how, as a seven-year-old Yorùbá boy, at playtime we used to climb on the backs of our elder siblings and, sometimes, our bigger mates, while they rested on their hands and knees, imitating the horse, while surrounding playmates clapped their hands and sang “kútúpà kútúpà” (mimicking the rhythm of a horse’s hooves in motion and hailing the human “horse”), and “ẹṣin do ndo” (“the horse, high up”), as other children applauded and acknowledged the superiority of the child on the back of the “horse.”1 At that time the interesting and enjoyable thing, for me, was riding on someone else’s back. I also recall that we sometimes fell and sustained injuries from such antics. Now, as an adult, especially an art historian, the performance reverberates in my memories. Now that I am aware that my ancestors were trans-Saharan traders from Mali, I have more personal associations with the idea of horseriding. The history of the introduction of the horse to Yorùbáland suddenly becomes germane to the discourse that connects my present place with my ancestral space.2 My family history was gathered from my uncle, Olaide Abass— professor emeritus of computer science at the University of Lagos—while we were discussing matters concerning our family compound at Ẹdẹ3; he asked if I knew the reason why our family compound is called Ilé-Ìmàle. I told him I thought it was because the members of the compound were mostly Muslims, who are often referred to by Yorùbá Christian groups as ìmàle (a compression of ìmọ̀líle, meaning “difficult understanding”) as a way of casting a sneer at Islam and its practitioners. However, the professor showed me that I was wrong—the name Ilé-Ìmàle was an inaccurate way of saying Ilé Mali (“Malian home”). Our ancestors, he told me, were trans-Saharan traders who travelled from Mali to Ilorin4 on horseback and later came to settle down, by the invitation of the then-timi (king) of Ẹdẹ town. He went on to narrate the story of how our ancestors found their way to Ẹdẹ, which we now know as our native home. Much more, the horse assumes a symbolic phenomenal position in the worldview of the Yorùbá by its association with very vital histories and sociopolitical systems, such as the founding of historically important settlements in Yorùbá mythology and its association with key kingship positions. Samuel Johnson (1921: 4) A Reconsideration of the History and Iconology of Yorùbá Equestrian Figure through Two Ifá Verses and the Ojúde-Ọba Festival","PeriodicalId":45314,"journal":{"name":"AFRICAN ARTS","volume":"55 1","pages":"36-49"},"PeriodicalIF":0.3000,"publicationDate":"2022-05-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"A Reconsideration of the History and Iconology of Yorùbá Equestrian Figure through Two Ifá Verses and the Ojúde-Ọ ba Festival\",\"authors\":\"A. Akande\",\"doi\":\"10.1162/afar_a_00655\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"| african arts SUMMER 2022 VOL. 55, NO. 2 This study probes into the iconology, history, and representation of the horseman figure in Yorùbáland and art. Although literature abounds on this topic, many such writings have approached the topic from the investigation of visual cultures and plastic representation of the horse. The present study employs multidimensional and unconventional approaches arising from considerations of iconology, religion, orature, and socioreligious performative festivals among the Yorùbá. The aim is to expand the research frontiers of the history of the horse and representation of the horseman figure in Yorùbáland and add new narratives to existing discourse on the topic. Following extensive and perplexing scholarship on the horse and equestrian figure in Yorùbáland, the present research is premised on sources guided by the Yorùbá maxim ọ̀rọ̀ sùnùkùn, oju sùnnùkùn ni a fi nwòó, meaning, “a bewildering situation requires an infrequent approach.” This maxim is generally recalled when a situation seems to defy known solutions. Such puzzles require unusual approaches. Here, the proverb is recalled to justify different methods of inquiry, especially those unexpected from an art historian like me. Beyond the historical importance of the horse as a war machine and object of prestige—which I can justifiably say has been overflogged by scholars from different academic disciplines—the iconology of the equestrian figure in Yorùbá society is so strong that the horse’s importance is reflected far beyond academia; it even has a place in the play of Yorùbá children. I remember quite vividly how, as a seven-year-old Yorùbá boy, at playtime we used to climb on the backs of our elder siblings and, sometimes, our bigger mates, while they rested on their hands and knees, imitating the horse, while surrounding playmates clapped their hands and sang “kútúpà kútúpà” (mimicking the rhythm of a horse’s hooves in motion and hailing the human “horse”), and “ẹṣin do ndo” (“the horse, high up”), as other children applauded and acknowledged the superiority of the child on the back of the “horse.”1 At that time the interesting and enjoyable thing, for me, was riding on someone else’s back. I also recall that we sometimes fell and sustained injuries from such antics. Now, as an adult, especially an art historian, the performance reverberates in my memories. Now that I am aware that my ancestors were trans-Saharan traders from Mali, I have more personal associations with the idea of horseriding. The history of the introduction of the horse to Yorùbáland suddenly becomes germane to the discourse that connects my present place with my ancestral space.2 My family history was gathered from my uncle, Olaide Abass— professor emeritus of computer science at the University of Lagos—while we were discussing matters concerning our family compound at Ẹdẹ3; he asked if I knew the reason why our family compound is called Ilé-Ìmàle. I told him I thought it was because the members of the compound were mostly Muslims, who are often referred to by Yorùbá Christian groups as ìmàle (a compression of ìmọ̀líle, meaning “difficult understanding”) as a way of casting a sneer at Islam and its practitioners. However, the professor showed me that I was wrong—the name Ilé-Ìmàle was an inaccurate way of saying Ilé Mali (“Malian home”). Our ancestors, he told me, were trans-Saharan traders who travelled from Mali to Ilorin4 on horseback and later came to settle down, by the invitation of the then-timi (king) of Ẹdẹ town. He went on to narrate the story of how our ancestors found their way to Ẹdẹ, which we now know as our native home. Much more, the horse assumes a symbolic phenomenal position in the worldview of the Yorùbá by its association with very vital histories and sociopolitical systems, such as the founding of historically important settlements in Yorùbá mythology and its association with key kingship positions. Samuel Johnson (1921: 4) A Reconsideration of the History and Iconology of Yorùbá Equestrian Figure through Two Ifá Verses and the Ojúde-Ọba Festival\",\"PeriodicalId\":45314,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"AFRICAN ARTS\",\"volume\":\"55 1\",\"pages\":\"36-49\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.3000,\"publicationDate\":\"2022-05-01\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"0\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"AFRICAN ARTS\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.1162/afar_a_00655\",\"RegionNum\":3,\"RegionCategory\":\"艺术学\",\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"0\",\"JCRName\":\"ART\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"AFRICAN ARTS","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1162/afar_a_00655","RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"0","JCRName":"ART","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
摘要
b|非洲艺术夏季2022年第55卷,第1期。2本研究探讨了骑马人物在Yorùbáland和艺术中的形象学、历史和表现。虽然关于这个话题的文献很多,但许多这样的著作都是从视觉文化和马的塑料表现的调查中接近这个话题的。本研究采用多维度和非常规的方法,这些方法源于对Yorùbá中圣像学、宗教、文学和社会宗教表演节日的考虑。其目的是扩展Yorùbáland中马的历史和骑手形象的研究前沿,并为该主题的现有话语添加新的叙述。在Yorùbáland中关于马和马术人物的广泛而令人困惑的学术研究之后,本研究以Yorùbá格言(格言)为指导的来源为前提,即“令人困惑的情况需要很少的方法”sùnùkùn, oju sùnnùkùn ni a fi nwòó。当一种情况似乎无法解决已知的问题时,人们通常会想起这句格言。这样的谜题需要不同寻常的方法。在这里,这句谚语被用来证明不同的研究方法是合理的,尤其是那些像我这样的艺术史学家意想不到的方法。除了马作为战争机器和声望对象的历史重要性之外——我可以理正气正地说,来自不同学术学科的学者已经夸大了这一点——马术人物在Yorùbá社会中的形象是如此强烈,以至于马的重要性远远超出了学术界的范围;它甚至在Yorùbá儿童的游戏中占有一席之地。我还清楚地记得,当我还是一个七岁Yorùbá的男孩时,玩耍的时候,我们常常爬到哥哥姐姐的背上,有时也爬到哥哥姐姐的背上,而哥哥姐姐们则趴在地上,模仿马的动作,而周围的玩伴们则拍手唱起“kútúpà kútúpà”(模仿马蹄声的节奏,欢呼人类的“马”)和“ẹṣin do ndo”(“马,高高在上”)。当其他孩子鼓掌并承认孩子在“马背”上的优越性时。在那个时候,对我来说最有趣、最愉快的事情就是骑在别人的背上。我还记得,我们有时会因为这样的滑稽动作摔倒受伤。现在,作为一个成年人,尤其是一个艺术史学家,这场表演在我的记忆中回响。现在我知道我的祖先是来自马里的跨撒哈拉贸易商,我对骑马的想法有了更多的个人联系。把马引入Yorùbáland的历史突然变得与我现在的地方和我祖先的空间联系起来的话语密切相关我的家族史是从我的叔叔Olaide Abass——拉各斯大学计算机科学的名誉教授——那里收集来的,当时我们正在Ẹdẹ3上讨论有关我们家族大院的事情;他问我是否知道我们家的大院为什么叫il -Ìmàle。我告诉他,我认为这是因为这个院落的成员大多是穆斯林,他们经常被Yorùbá基督教团体称为ìmàle (ìmọ æ líle的压缩,意思是“难以理解”),这是对伊斯兰教及其从业者的一种嘲笑。然而,教授告诉我我错了——il -Ìmàle这个名字是il Mali(“马里的家”)的不准确说法。他告诉我,我们的祖先是跨撒哈拉的商人,他们骑马从马里来到伊洛林,后来应Ẹdẹ镇当时的蒂米(国王)的邀请,来到这里定居下来。他接着讲述了我们的祖先如何找到通往Ẹdẹ的路的故事,我们现在知道那里是我们的家乡。更重要的是,马在Yorùbá的世界观中具有象征性的显著地位,因为它与非常重要的历史和社会政治制度有关,例如Yorùbá神话中历史上重要的定居点的建立,以及它与关键的王权地位的联系。塞缪尔·约翰逊(1921:4)《通过两首伊夫诗和Ojúde-Ọba节日重新审视Yorùbá马术人物的历史和形象学》
A Reconsideration of the History and Iconology of Yorùbá Equestrian Figure through Two Ifá Verses and the Ojúde-Ọ ba Festival
| african arts SUMMER 2022 VOL. 55, NO. 2 This study probes into the iconology, history, and representation of the horseman figure in Yorùbáland and art. Although literature abounds on this topic, many such writings have approached the topic from the investigation of visual cultures and plastic representation of the horse. The present study employs multidimensional and unconventional approaches arising from considerations of iconology, religion, orature, and socioreligious performative festivals among the Yorùbá. The aim is to expand the research frontiers of the history of the horse and representation of the horseman figure in Yorùbáland and add new narratives to existing discourse on the topic. Following extensive and perplexing scholarship on the horse and equestrian figure in Yorùbáland, the present research is premised on sources guided by the Yorùbá maxim ọ̀rọ̀ sùnùkùn, oju sùnnùkùn ni a fi nwòó, meaning, “a bewildering situation requires an infrequent approach.” This maxim is generally recalled when a situation seems to defy known solutions. Such puzzles require unusual approaches. Here, the proverb is recalled to justify different methods of inquiry, especially those unexpected from an art historian like me. Beyond the historical importance of the horse as a war machine and object of prestige—which I can justifiably say has been overflogged by scholars from different academic disciplines—the iconology of the equestrian figure in Yorùbá society is so strong that the horse’s importance is reflected far beyond academia; it even has a place in the play of Yorùbá children. I remember quite vividly how, as a seven-year-old Yorùbá boy, at playtime we used to climb on the backs of our elder siblings and, sometimes, our bigger mates, while they rested on their hands and knees, imitating the horse, while surrounding playmates clapped their hands and sang “kútúpà kútúpà” (mimicking the rhythm of a horse’s hooves in motion and hailing the human “horse”), and “ẹṣin do ndo” (“the horse, high up”), as other children applauded and acknowledged the superiority of the child on the back of the “horse.”1 At that time the interesting and enjoyable thing, for me, was riding on someone else’s back. I also recall that we sometimes fell and sustained injuries from such antics. Now, as an adult, especially an art historian, the performance reverberates in my memories. Now that I am aware that my ancestors were trans-Saharan traders from Mali, I have more personal associations with the idea of horseriding. The history of the introduction of the horse to Yorùbáland suddenly becomes germane to the discourse that connects my present place with my ancestral space.2 My family history was gathered from my uncle, Olaide Abass— professor emeritus of computer science at the University of Lagos—while we were discussing matters concerning our family compound at Ẹdẹ3; he asked if I knew the reason why our family compound is called Ilé-Ìmàle. I told him I thought it was because the members of the compound were mostly Muslims, who are often referred to by Yorùbá Christian groups as ìmàle (a compression of ìmọ̀líle, meaning “difficult understanding”) as a way of casting a sneer at Islam and its practitioners. However, the professor showed me that I was wrong—the name Ilé-Ìmàle was an inaccurate way of saying Ilé Mali (“Malian home”). Our ancestors, he told me, were trans-Saharan traders who travelled from Mali to Ilorin4 on horseback and later came to settle down, by the invitation of the then-timi (king) of Ẹdẹ town. He went on to narrate the story of how our ancestors found their way to Ẹdẹ, which we now know as our native home. Much more, the horse assumes a symbolic phenomenal position in the worldview of the Yorùbá by its association with very vital histories and sociopolitical systems, such as the founding of historically important settlements in Yorùbá mythology and its association with key kingship positions. Samuel Johnson (1921: 4) A Reconsideration of the History and Iconology of Yorùbá Equestrian Figure through Two Ifá Verses and the Ojúde-Ọba Festival
期刊介绍:
African Arts is devoted to the study and discussion of traditional, contemporary, and popular African arts and expressive cultures. Since 1967, African Arts readers have enjoyed high-quality visual depictions, cutting-edge explorations of theory and practice, and critical dialogue. Each issue features a core of peer-reviewed scholarly articles concerning the world"s second largest continent and its diasporas, and provides a host of resources - book and museum exhibition reviews, exhibition previews, features on collections, artist portfolios, dialogue and editorial columns. The journal promotes investigation of the connections between the arts and anthropology, history, language, literature, politics, religion, and sociology.