Smoke

Surfaces In attending to surfaces, as they wrap, layer and grow within sentient bodies, material formations and cosmological states, this volume presents a series of ten anthropological studies stretching across five continents and in observation of earthly practices of making, knowing, living and dying. Through theoretically reflecting on time spent with Aymara and Mapuche Andean cultures; the Malagasy people of Madagascar; craftspeople and designers across Europe and Oceania; amongst the architectures of Australia and South Korea and within the folds of books, screens, landscape and the sea, the anthropologists in this volume communicate diverse ways of considering, working with and knowing surfaces. Together, these writings advance a knowledge of the world which resists any definitive settlement of existential categories and rather seeks to know the world in its emergence and transformation, as entities grow, cohere, shift, dissolve, decay and are reborn through the contact and exchange of surfaces, persisting with varying time, power and effect. The book principally invites readers from anthropology, the creative arts and environmental studies but also across the wider humanities and social sciences as well as those in the neighbouring scientific fields of archaeology, biology, geography, geoscience, material science, neurology and psychology interested in the intersections of mind, body, materials and world. Mike Anusas is Lecturer in Design & Screen Cultures, Edinburgh College of Art, University of Edinburgh. Originally having trained and worked as a designer and engineer, he retrained as a social anthropologist to teach and research at the intersection of design and anthropology, exploring relationships between skilled practices, form-making and environmental perception. Cristián Simonetti is Assistant Professor in Anthropology, Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile. His work concentrates on how bodily gestures and environmental forces relate to notions of time in science, the topic of a monograph he published in 2018, also with Routledge, entitled Sentient Conceptualisations. Feeling for Time in the Sciences of the Past. Routledge Studies in Anthropology Security Blurs The Politics of Plural Security Provision Edited by Tessa Diphoorn and Erella Grassiani Cultural Models of Nature Primary Food Producers and Climate Change Edited by Giovanni Bennardo Guatemalan Vigilantism and the Global (Re)Production of Collective Violence A Tale of Two Lynchings Gavin Weston Human Extinction and the Pandemic Imaginary Christos Lynteris The Biometric Border World Technologies, Bodies and Identities on the Move Karen Fog Olwig, Kristina Grünenberg, Perle Møhl and Anja Simonsen Amerindian Socio-Cosmologies between the Andes, Amazonia and Mesoamerica Toward an Anthropological Understanding of the Isthmo-Colombian Area Edited by Ernst Halbmayer Surfaces Transformations of Body, Materials and Earth Edited by Mike Anusas and Cristián Simonetti Mambila Divination Framing Questions, Constructing Answers David Zeitlyn www.routledge.com/Routledge-Studies-in-Anthropology/book-series/SE0724 Surfaces Transformations of Body, Materials and Earth Edited by Mike Anusas and Cristián Simonetti First published 2020 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2020 selection and editorial matter, Mike Anusas and Cristián Simonetti; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Mike Anusas and Cristián Simonetti to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested ISBN: 978-1-138-12629-9 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-64694-7 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Apex CoVantage, LLC Contents List of figures Notes on contributors Acknowledgements 1 Introduction: turning to surfaces vii viii xi 1 M IKE ANUS AS AND C R IS TIÁN S IM ONETTI 2 On opening the book of surfaces 14 TIM INGOLD 3 Air, smoke and fumes in Aymara and Mapuche rituals 29 J UAN C AR LOS S KEWES AND DEB B IE GUER R A 4 In light and shadow: surfaces and polarities in rituals of second burial in Central East Madagascar 46 C HR IS TEL M ATTHEEUWS 5 Re-animating skin: probing the surface in taxidermic practice 62 P ETR A TJ ITS KE KALS HOVEN 6 The temporality of surfaces 80 C R IS TIÁN S IM ONETTI 7 Threshold as social surface 97 R AY LUC AS 8 Vital surfaces and the making of urban architecture ANUR ADHA C HATTER J EE 116 vi Contents 9 On the substance of surfaces: situating materials and design in Melanesian environments 139 GR AEM E WER E 10 On knitted surfaces-in-the-making 152 LYDIA M AR IA AR ANTES 11 A life surficial: design and beyond 167 M IKE ANUS AS 12 Epilogue 185 S US ANNE KÜC HLER Index 191 Figures 4.1 4.2 4.3 4.4 4.5 5.1 5.2 5.3 5.4 6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4 7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 8.1 8.2 8.3 8.4 11.1 11.2 11.3 11.4 Map of West Bezanozano and surroundings. Image of the land and the weather. Turning the destinies of the tomb. A tomb. Inside and outside realities. Creating manikins for a jackdaw out of wood wool, displayed next to the skinned body. Maurice Bouten, 2011 roebuck head demonstration, UK Guild of Taxidermists. Maurice Bouten, cast of deer nostrils. Darwin, Sinke & van Tongeren studio, detail. Head of a gigantic shark. Visual representation of the psyche. Development of the brain. Forward projection of the brain. Packages in movement via wheeled platforms and a porter with A-frame. Axonometric drawings of the unfurling market. Plan drawings of Seomun Market. A sectional drawing through the flea market of Dongdaemun. A) Corner view, Monaco House (2007), Melbourne, by McBride Charles Ryan Architects. B) View of balconies, Monaco House (2007), Melbourne, by McBride Charles Ryan Architects. BHP Billiton Headquarters (2004), Melbourne, Lyons Architects. Looking up from under one of the canopies, BHP Billiton Headquarters (2004), Melbourne, Lyons Architects. Glass façade, Nigel Peck Centre for Learning and Leadership (2008), Melbourne, John Wardle Architects. Suggestive surfaces – materials in the workshop. Gesturing surfaces – Post-It sketches in the ideation phase. A moment of making. James’ desk. 47 49 50 52 59 65 69 71 73 82 84 90 91 103 105 107 110 129 131 132 133 173 177 179 180 3 Air, smoke and fumes in Aymara and Mapuche rituals1 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra Introduction Miguel de Unamuno states that substances in the world aim not only to persist but also to change. In his words: We attribute some sort of consciousness . . . to all living things, and even to the stones themselves, for they also live. And the evolution of organic beings is simply a struggle to realize fullness of consciousness through suffering, a continual aspiration to be others without ceasing to be themselves, to break and yet to preserve their proper limits. Unamuno (1954: 141) Unamuno’s claim that things aspire to be something else suggests a contradiction that goes beyond Spinoza’s contention that ‘[t]he smallest or simplest body or bit may indeed express a vital impetus, conatus or clinamen’ (Spinoza, cited in Bennett 2010). Conatus for Spinoza is no more than the effort to persevere in existence once this is given (Deleuze 1996). Or, as phrased by Jane Bennett (2010: 21): ‘Anything . . . will always be able to persist in existing with the same force whereby it begins to exist’. However, vital life does not necessarily remain bound to its original material confines; there is always the possibility that things may morph into something else. Jane Bennett’s (2010: viii) concern with ‘the material agency or affectivity of non-human or not-quite-human things’ provides a framework for interrogating the interaction among substances in an inhabited world. Bennett offers an interpretation of the material powers, which while aiding or destroying, enriching or disabling, ennobling or degrading us, call for our attentiveness. Things have power; more strictly, they may be defined as thing-power, which acts not in its pure negativity or recalcitrance but also regarding its positive power, a power of its own. Bennett’s notion of vitality relates, indeed, to the capacity of things to act as forces with propensities. Therefore, her idea of vitality goes beyond Spinoza’s conatus. Bennett’s view may be criticised for attributing power to things, defining these as actants, as Latour (1993) does: as a source of action that can be either human 30 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra or non-human and which efficacy lies upon their capacity for altering the course of events. In this sense, she grants things human attributes that make them historical beings. Bennett’s (2010) notion of vitality needs to be reframed, answering her claim about rendering more attentiveness to things. Her vital materialistic approach may be perfected if closer attention is paid to the interaction among things – or substances, as we prefer to term them – where power seems not to lie in things themselves but more precisely in their interaction. Such interactions, however, ought not to be seen as a mechanical coalition, as Bennett (2010) does, but as a process of sophisticated exchanges between substances through their mediums. Surfaces, in this view, deserve to be studied in detail. Bennett’s (2010) assertion of thing-power as the contradiction posed by Unamuno (1954) – between things that aim to be others while remaining themselves – leads to an attempt to study surface as a zone of contact and exchange (Ingold 2011). Transformations occurring in substances – while modifying the medium – give place to the emergence of new surfaces, which are created when two phenomena meet. Surfaces are a threshold, an interface between substance and medium – as Gibson (2015: 19) states: surfaces are an ‘interface between any two of [the] three states of matter – solid, liquid or gas’. Or, as Ingold (2008: 4) considers, ‘Every surface in the inhabited environment . . . is established by the separation of substances from the medium’, and these surfaces are characterised by having ‘a relatively persistent layout, a degree of resistance to deformation and disintegration, a distinctive shape and a characteristically non-homogeneous texture’ (Ingold 2011: 22). Surfaces are critical for understanding flows of radiant energy: they either reflect or absorb it; they are ‘where vibrations are passed to the medium, where vaporization or diffusion into the medium occur, and what our bodies come up against in touch’ (Ingold 2011: 22). Absorption, reflection, diffusion, condensation and other dynamic processes inform the transformation of substances into the medium and vice versa. Thus, the change of the components of the inhabited environment ought to be understood as particular instances of articulating surfaces, substances and medium. Exposed to permanent change, these articulations express the cultural particularities in the making of life, as it is revealed in ritual practices among indigenous peoples. Smoke in the Andean cultures The use of smoke in rituals in Aymara and Mapuche Andean cultures is especially revealing of the processes that occur when substances and medium meet to invoke cultural practices with evanescent materials. Smoke, in this sense, represents a very particular kind of substance. It is fundamental to environmental change, to physical transformations occurring at a molar level, and it is radical in being elemental to the coming and going of entities in and out of existence (Gibson 2015). The ritual use of smoke positions itself amidst events where particulate substances are manipulated into existence, modifying the medium. Air, smoke and fumes 31 Rituals associated with the use of smoke are common among the Andean cultures, including the southern Mapuche. Tomás Guevara (1929, 1909), María Ester Grebe (2002, 1996, 1995) and Rodrigo Moulian (Moulian and Espinoza 2014), among others, suggest commonalities between the Mapuche and the Andean cultures. Although the historical aspects of this relation are open to debate, ritual and language reveal a close link between these cultures. Among the many aspects shared by these cultures is the ritual use of sahumerio (smoke) or sacred fire and tobacco in their ceremonies, as described by Guevara (1929). Guevara believed that this was evidence of the cultural influence on the Mapuche coming from the central Andes. Independent of the presumed origin of such practices, there is substantial proof of the use of pipes in Central Chile before the conquest (Planella et al. 2012). The use of smoke in ritual practices that are the gathering of microparticles in motion, moving through the air (the medium), suggests the emergence of dynamic surfaces that provide either ritual protection or access to perceptions that are absent in ordinary life. Smoke, as a result of combustion, fills the medium and new evanescent substances as fleeting surfaces are visible in its midst. In this case, substances, mediums and surfaces are articulated in ways that demand exploration. The medium – air for humans – allows moving around with little resistance. It also transmits radiant energy and mechanical vibrations, making it possible to see, smell and hear (Ingold 2011). The medium facilitates movement and perception. The alteration and manipulation of the medium transforms relationships with reality. Whereas we might consider that some particular material forms, such as a window, may frame a feeling of separation from a surrounding environment (Kuma 2007), the case of materials dispersed as aerial and volatile substances, by contrast, draws indigenous peoples into a close connection with their surroundings. The indigenous ritual practices indicate that although the distinctions between surface, substances and medium are clear, the interaction among them is complex. The medium seems to offer something more than ‘little resistance’ to the moving bodies. Human and non-human trajectories may be strengthened as well as weakened by the medium. Moreover, the medium is continuously used by birds, seeds, humans and other beings to expand their mobility or by mechanisms and structures which transform its qualities into physical forces for other purposes; as in the case of windmills, whose sails provide sufficient energy for pumping water or milling grain. Surfaces are also used by organisms to appropriate their environments, as when fish use vortexes to gain speed underwater or people project images on the air for the eyes to read. In these scenarios, the medium seems to behave like a surface. The relationship between medium and substance is contingent upon the organisms of consideration: for an organism that uses the air-water threshold (surface) to traverse, while its body is moving through the air-space, then air is its medium and water a substance. However, for an organism which crosses the air-water threshold (surface), with its body moving through water-space, then water is its medium and air a substance. Meanwhile, surfaces, dependent on substances, are 32 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra in tension insofar as the latter undergoes constant change. Thus, the threshold is dynamic and its coherence relates to the nature of the substance. Surfaces and their layouts persist for as long as substances remain, and their change is dependent on the conditions of the substance. In this sense, as Gibson (2015) suggests, it is better to speak of persistence under change and to consider that resistant lightreflecting surfaces may at any point disappear. Although there are not surfaces or sharp transitions in the medium (Gibson 2015), the dynamics of substances and surfaces find peculiar expression in it, especially if scales of space and time are considered. For example, the surface tension that results when liquid molecules face cohesive forces due to the presence of other substances around them (borders) affords diverse possibilities of interactions with a multiplicity of organisms. As Gibson (2015: 17) writes regarding water as a substance or as a medium: ‘the distinction depends on the kind of animal considered’. The small water-walking insects ‘water-walk’ because they treat water as substantial matter, a substance. By infiltration, substances can change the medium’s composition. Some organisms, under certain conditions, intentionally create evanescent surfaces in the medium: for example, when octopuses protect themselves by darkening the water. Thus, a surface is set up in the medium; the octopus injects a fluid (substance) into its medium (water), and the surface is created via an ink-water threshold (interface). It is a fascinating surface, as it is composed of highly complex curvatures that are constantly in motion and dynamic within the dual-fluid space. In this case of the octopus’s ink, the substance loses its substantial qualities, and it becomes subsumed into the medium. The substance and its respective surfaces seem to dissipate altogether. In the case of air, the variations of the medium regarding pressure, temperature and aerodynamics influence the mobility of substances. Not only birds, but also leaves, seeds, dust and smoke move according to the weather conditions that they face. Any substance that changes into a gaseous state is no longer so substantial, and the surface, together with its layout, ceases to exist (Gibson 2015). However, burnt particles, for example, remain as substance, even if their infinitesimal size renders them almost invisible to the human eye. The medium of air is filled, in these scenarios, by both organisms and substances. The dynamics between substances and the medium include flowing, mixing, interchanging, displacing and absorbing. Absorbing is crucial insofar as a thing may incorporate other things or, in the process of absorbing, may be correspondingly transformed. Smoke particles tend to be absorbed by their medium, and their substantial state disappears. The absorption of a volatile energy can prove lethal to an organism, but not so for the absorption of light by a plant. Furthermore, the absorption of nutrients is critical for the continuation of organic life. Absorption might reveal the relative power and influence of two substances while the medium becomes prevalent insofar as dissipation cancels out any continuation of either substance. Smoke is a case in point. It is the product of fire, that is, a chemical event, a large-scale rapid oxidation consisting ‘of complex motions and deformations, Air, smoke and fumes 33 fluctuating luminous surfaces, reddening and blackening of the opaque surfaces, billowing smoke, and finally a disappearance of the solid surface’ (Gibson 2015: 16). Events are changes happening at a molar level rather than at a molecular level: they are not physicochemical but environmental events. Fire is subject to human manipulation, mostly for functional purposes such as cooking, warming and destroying. But fire is a means to produce very particular substances: particles. Such particles, in spite of their tiny size, are nonetheless solid. Injecting such particulates into the air as smoke opens up powerful possibilities for the shaping of perceptions and cultural practices. Smoke, as a combination of liquid and solid particles and gases – and gas dynamics, including not only air but many gases – create conditions for the emergence of short-lived substances that are here described as evanescent. In such a case, the surface is evanescent due to the dissolution of substance and medium into one another: the dispersed particles are absorbed by the medium while, through oxidation, elements of the medium precipitate on the burnt surfaces of the particles. When different matter states coalesce, one of the phenomena, either substance or medium, may pervade: there could be so much substance injected into a medium that the medium is overwhelmed by substance. In the ethnographic setting, this dynamic produces unexpected vitalities between humans and non-humans. Among the circumstances that require permutations of this sort are relations with the supernatural, an uneasy, or at least an elusive, relation for a vital materialist approach. Instead of assuming that those relations are part of a pseudomaterial world or a metaphorical substitution of physical experiences, what is important here is the experience of embeddedness in a world where material connections exceed the semiology of ordinary life and where a shift in perception allows access to domains that are invisible in daily life. The contribution of Eduardo Kohn (2013) is decisive for dealing with a semiotic order where different beings are part of the communication process. Kohn starts with Peirce’s (1998: 478) definition of ‘a Sign as anything which is so determined by something else, called its Object, and so determines an effect upon a person, which effect I call its Interpretant, that the latter is thereby mediately determined by the former’. Peirce’s contribution lies in the role that the interpretant has in making meaningful the sign. Such a role leads to an open-ended process of semiosis, dependent on the interpretation. Simultaneously, the division of signs into icons, indexes and symbols – where icons represent a mere community in some quality or likenesses, indexes the correspondence in fact and symbols the imputed character of the object – allows for an expansion of the communication process to a heterogeneous world of interpreters. Peirce (1978) deals with those thought-provoking signs that enter through perception and exit through the door of intentional action. Human activity is inscribed in a context where other beings are engaged in simultaneous communication processes that are not always perceptible to humans. Kohn (2013) suggests that the world is made up of living thoughts: behaviour is iconic, embodying the interpretation that each participant has about his or her living circumstance. ‘All life is semiotic, and all semiosis is alive’, 34 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra Kohn (2013: 16) writes. However, semiosis is not an exclusive prerogative of humans; ‘Representation is something both more general and more widely distributed than human language’ (Kohn 2013: 38). Thus, Kohn suggests, the starting point is not the ontological differences amongst beings but the universal properties of communication. The world is inhabited by diverse kinds of thinking. Other than humans, there are multiple thinking selves. From this viewpoint, smoke lends itself to the semiotic process, turning iconic, symbolical or indexical and – depending on the context of its use – expands the arch of the thinking selves who translate their interpretations into actions. The association of smoke with the supernatural has a long, although declining, significance in Western traditions. Frankincense and myrrh were the preferred substances to burn. Their origins are in Somalia, where ‘a scraggly, thorny tree, Commiphoramyrrha, yields myrrh, while Boswelliafrereana and Boswelliacarteri, both taller, with tiny leaves growing at the ends of their branches, produce frankincense’ (Casson 1986: 150). However, odours associated with the ‘sweet smell of Sanctity’, were identified by early church fathers as sinful when associated with the body and sexuality, ‘unanimously condemning secular uses of perfumes (especially among women)’ (Thurlkill 2007: 138). As a result, smoke remains solely an instrumental ritual symbol within the Catholic tradition (Parachin 2012), removed from the central place given to myrrh and frankincense in the biblical narrative of the birth of Jesus. Among the Aymara and Mapuche people, events occurring in the air have an important role. Winds, rainbows and fog, among other meteorological phenomena, are incorporated into daily life. Likewise, the presence of smoke, a sum of burnt particles, is an integral part of Andean and Mapuche culture, and as an expression of the general metabolism implied by fire among living creatures, its presence is noticeable and sustained in everyday life. Chroniclers, early historians, and researchers describe the use of smoke as a part of divination, healing and communication in the Andes (Bouroncle-Carrión 1967, 1964; Burman 2009; Mamani 2001; van Kessel 2001, 1983), and similar uses are described for the Mapuche (Bacigalupo 2007; Guevara 1929). Smoke, in particular, is an integral part of rituals among Aymara and Mapuche. The use of smoke is a means for understanding not only the social construction of the supernatural but also the material transformation of the connection between humans and non-humans. Smoke, air and fumes as used in rituals pose an important question to the assumption implied by the conatus, that is, the insistence of a substance to persist in its condition. Smoke and gases pursue expansion and movement, and the course of this expansion is dependent on what it is expanding into, whether a substantial closed volume or an open, expansive medium. In a closed setting, fumes, gases and smoke become compressed, but in the open, gases dissipate. The latter challenges the ‘persistence’ of substance: smoke or gas seems to persist less and more dynamically move and merge. Thus, for such formations, dissolution seems their destiny; they represent the recalcitrance of the evanescence rather than the recalcitrance of things (Bennett 2010). Aside from its entropic character, dissolution may be understood as a means for reconnecting the living experience to its Air, smoke and fumes 35 milieu. Kuma’s (2007) invitation to dismantle a world of objects that separate humans from their environment represents a contemporary equivalence of the aims revealed by the ritual exercises that include smoke. In Kuma’s architectural work, the use of water, for example, contributes to dissolving the borders that buildings – objects – artificially erect between humans and their surrounding landscape. Like Kuma’s use of water, the production of smoke is part of lifegiving processes. In Mapuche and Aymara ritual practices, fog, winds, smoke or odours are an indispensable means for exchanging the properties of persons and things in ways that make them differ from their ordinary condition. ‘Smells, smoke, and fragrances are the means of ritual communication; they are the elements that enable the establishment and sustenance of relationships and they enable life to flow, mix and interchange’ (Burman 2009: 126). The ritual transforms volatile air into an evanescent surface used as a shield – the particulate cloud is dense at its instigation – either to protect the person, animal or thing from disruption or to prevent them from being disruptive by creating a platform whereby exchanges between humans and spiritual beings may occur. The selection of specific trees (canelo [Drimyswinteri], for example) or plants (ají [Capsicum spp.]) for burning is not arbitrary. Such substances produce dense and penetrant smoke by which particles remain for a while, suspended in air. With the introduction of these substances (particles of smoke), a new evanescent surface arises amidst the medium. Such particles contribute to a mass constitution of micro-surfaces, a cloud of micro-surfaces. At some point, these micro-surfaces become broken down so finely that they become subsumed into the medium, and thus the surfaces disappear. Fire, it must be remembered, consists of complex motions and deformations, fluctuating luminous surfaces, reddening and blackening of the opaque surfaces, billowing smoke and finally a disappearance of the solid surfaces (Gibson 2015). From this viewpoint, smoke works through its transformative power upon the medium – air – where humans are immersed: an evanescent cloud of microsurfaces may sustain an extra-ordinary experience that confounds humans and non-humans. By using smoke, the ritual allows the perception of out-of-sight things which support indigenous life, making explicit the interface between binding and unbinding ‘when the weather is weathering and the field is fielding’ (Ingold 2011: 121). People see things through the presence of the particulate substance – that is, they see it in the substance through the vague surface between medium (air) and substance (smoke). Smoke and ritual Disclosing Although different in their composition, fog and smoke open alternative views of reflecting surfaces. Fog is another type of particulate substance, one composed of air-suspended water droplets and crystals. In these terms, it is similar to smoke, but not the same. In spite of their differences, both are present in the indigenous 36 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra practices, providing the basis for accessing what is missing in the ordinary experience of the medium. In this sense, they disclose what otherwise remains invisible. The link between smoke, fumes and odours and the human body is critical for relating to death, sickness and the spiritual world. In the description of the mortuary rites of the Aymara provided by van Kessel (2001), the disclosure offered by the smoke is evident: moments after the death, non-relative neighbours arrive to wash the body and dress it in its best clothes (Sunday best). For the wake, they lay the body out, with the feet pointing west, on a white-clothed table. Beside the head, a candle is kept lit at all times. The explanation for this custom is that the deceased’s soul will not come home; rather it leaves on a journey to find its destiny beyond the sea of storms (‘mar de tormentas’) also known as ‘cocha grande’. When the traveller (the deceased) is ready with his bags for the trip, he leaves with his llama and dog, and they circle round the western side of the house to head towards the countryside downhill (‘para abajo’), accompanied by their mourners and neighbours. Three hundred metres away from the house, a small camp is organised, presided over by a friend or relative who represents the dead person. A candle, cigarettes, alcohol and coca leaves are left on a table. At dinner time people eat, except the person representing the deceased: the spirit eats the essence of the food. Firewood brought from the nearby house is used for the burning. The llama is sacrificed by cutting its throat. The blood is left running into a hole in the ground as an offering to the Manqhapacha. Once the animal is completely dead, the sacrificer understands that the dead person has gone to the cocha grande. His clothes are burned along with his dog and the previously sacrificed llama. Coca leaves are burned, and an exchange of alcohol and cigarettes takes place. Meanwhile, the fire is challada (sprinkled) with these elements. In the evening, five male relatives of the departed stand guard over the fire, watching carefully to see the spirit of the dead coming to take away his belongings. It is of utmost importance to see if the dead comes alone or with a relative. The presence of a relative or neighbour accompanying the dead is seen as a bad omen; the companions, who appear in the flames, will also die. The ghostly presence of the dead and his animals in the middle of the flames highlights not only the divinatory power attributed to fire but also the physical and material continuity of existence that transcends the limits imposed by the ordinary constraints of the senses. As stated by Gibson (2015: 9), ‘when an object has been consumed by fire, nothing has really gone out of existence. . . . Even if terrestrial matter cannot be annihilated, a light-reflecting surface can and this is what counts for perception’. Fire is an event with a surface, although a very unusual surface (Gibson 2015). Human control over fire allows creating such an event which displaces, although episodically, the medium. The duration of the fire, nonetheless, secures access to the spiritual realm. Similarly, although using droplets and crystals instead of fire, the ankawenumapu, among the Mapuche, corresponds to the weather world, where the climate and the spirits of the winds (ngenkuruf࣠࣠ ) dwell. Evil spirits, lurking in the clouds, may act against people. There is a tradition in the west which Air, smoke and fumes 37 relates steam, condensation, drinks and souls. In the Christian tradition, spirits are also meant to ascend, connecting souls with the heavens. In that sense, there is a parallel in the West relating to fumes and the world of spirits. Breathing would be another example in relation to the soul, going all the way back to Ancient Greece. However, such understandings are now regarded as mere metaphors. Furthermore, there is no apparent turning of the medium into a surface as in the Aymara and Mapuche world. The indigenous peoples might have reinterpreted Christian traditions, especially the use of incense, but if so, it is on a distinctly different premise. This spiritual world, rendered immaterial in anthropological accounts (Ingold 2011), is accessible to the Aymara and Mapuche through direct and indirect visual and sensory means (feelings concerning the weather, the flight of birds, wind direction or changes in the wind). It is also revealed through the interplay of the wind, smoke and odours. Smoke reveals the world that is invisible in daylight. As described by Bouroncle-Carrión (1967), smoke and fire are present before the Aymara start to sow: they render homage to fertility. On a slight rise in the terrain, they place a small statue and burn an offering, put on a grill over a small fire pan, at its feet. As it smokes before them, those present try to see signs in the rising wisps and curls, favourable or otherwise, regarding the work they are about to start. Fortune-tellers try to read the omens depicted on the earth by a handful of coca leaves thrown on the ground. Among the Mapuche, the machi (shaman) blows smoke from her mouth in the direction of the dwellings or the enemies: the direction taken by the smoke indicates the path the spirit followed (Faron 1964). Mapuche elders who invoke the pillán or spirit of the volcano by offering him tobacco smoke carry out a similar practice: ‘Accept this, Pillán’, they say. Fire and flames are as important as smoke and so are the processes of keeping things lit and the process of combustion. To ‘light’ a fire establishes a correspondence between light and flames. This aspect is highly transformative: substances and mediums can radically change state when they are subject to dynamic conditions. That is, gaseous mediums (e.g. air) can be liquefied through extreme energetic transformations. Solid substances (e.g. wood) can transform to particulate substances (smoke) when involved in energetic relations, and light (in the form of flames) plays a significant role in this process. In this sense, rituals imply the use of energy for transforming substances and creating evanescent surfaces. Feeding Pachamama has a mouth that eats and receives food and is challada. But Pachamama also eats us. There is a mutual phagocytising between human beings and non-humans: van Kessel (2001) emphasises that among the Aymara, the word burying means seeding potato (papa). Entities other than human, such as the wind, lightning, whirlpools, floods and volcanoes, claim to be fed by the people (Bugallo and Vilca 2011). ‘Smells, smoke, and fragrances are the means of ritual communication; they are the elements that enable the establishment and 38 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra sustenance of relationships, and they enable life to flow, mix and interchange’, states Burman (2009: 118). In addition to flowing, mixing and interchanging, absorbing also seems crucial. Things do not always mix equally, but sometimes one thing absorbs another. When a particulate substance and its corresponding cloud of micro-surfaces disappear, it is absorbed into the pervading medium. This is heavily linked to feeding and food where one being literally absorbs another, as is necessary for life to continue. With absorbing, power relations between one being and another are displayed in terms that are situationally defined: to absorb or be absorbed offers a potential for hierarchical relationships. Among the Aymara, spirits in general feed primarily on smells and smoke (sahumerios [incense]):2 the penetrating scented aroma released by the fire pans reaches the spirit, who is expected, if satisfied, to respond to the claims of the devotee (Fernández 1995). The ajayus (or protective spirits) are fed on odours and smoke. Therefore, Aymara rituals are organised to feed the ajayus through the burning of plant elements, minerals and animals. Odours and smoke are a means of ritual communication, elements that enable the establishment and the maintenance of the relationship with the ajayus, making the life flow (Burman 2011). The absorbing nature of the spirits establishes a dominant position over the humans who aim to satisfy them. Among the Mapuche, in the descanso (a small shrine by the house honouring a dead person), the spirits of the relatives are given cigarettes and mate. The descanso is a shrine erected by the side of a tree, chosen by a person prior to his or her death, which will remain as the site for encounters between the living and the spirit of the dead. The shrine is built on the border of the family plot and is also a decoy that will distract the spirit from returning to the house: he or she instead will go to this outside post. Control and memory are part of the interplay that is enacted whenever someone dreams with the dead person and remembers him or her by burning some cigarettes under the shade of the tree (Skewes et al. 2011). Like in the Aymara case, the Mapuche spirit ( püllü) gains command and control over the living relatives. The feeding of the spirits is in direct connection with tastes that might, on the one hand, satisfy them or, on the other, disgust them. The spirits are beings which are continually trying to absorb everything or as much as possible. The relation with the spirits needs to be worked through a contradictory balance that keeps in check the necessary, although not always desired, presence of forces that can both act against or favour the people. To keep them in check, spicy odours and bitter tastes are frequently used in both the Mapuche and the Aymara worlds. The use of ají or chilli peppers (Capsicum spp.), for example, is associated with purification and is mentioned in several birth and funeral customs. A person, when sick, is made to inhale chilli-pepper smoke to clear his head and lungs. Among the Aymara, illness in children is attributed to a spirit that has succeeded in getting hold of their body. To cure the victim, anise is burned in the sick child’s room. The bitter smoke is thought to provoke the retreat of the demon (Faron 1964). Increasing the application of energy is another transformative exercise associated with ritual practices: breathing in the offerings, as well as blowing smoke on Air, smoke and fumes 39 animals or people, is part of many rites used to cure diseases. To expel the wekufe (malignant being) from the body of the sick person, the machi drinks chicha and strikes her pipe. Absorbing, in this case, empowers the shaman with spiritual strength. The medium – air or smoke – is moulded or hardened for dealing with evil spirits and for protecting the living (Faron 1964). Likewise, before using a new house, the Aymara make an offering to Pachamama, burning the foetus of a llama or sheep together with other substances that please the divinity, such as fragments of ostrich eggshells, minute tin figures, sugar loaves, coloured candy, coca, llijta and cigars. While these products are being burned, the prayer ‘Our Father’ – an obvious influence of the Christian religion – is recited in Spanish. The ashes are buried in a corner of the house, which becomes taboo, and they must not be dug up. To chase away the evil spirits who may have installed them inside the hut, a handful of ají (cayenne pepper) is burned, the bitter smoke of which is unbearable (Metraux 1973). Processes of absorption dominate relations among humans and spirits. The one who is absorbed into is losing his or her existence and power, and the absorber, the spirit, is the one growing in existence and power. But with toxic substances the power roles are reversed, and that which is absorbed acquires power, as would be the case of the shaman. For those beings, their keenness to absorb becomes their undoing. A good example of this is the Mapuche myth about the Canillo, a voracious baby who eats the family’s food. This myth, originally documented by Quiroz and Olivares (1987), was recounted to the authors in Pucatrihue, southern Chile. Food, the story tells, was prepared only once a day and was kept in a big pot, but upon their return, the family always found the pot empty. The family became suspicious about the boy. One day they decided to discover what was going on. They left the pot as usual and went out, but they stayed nearby to see what was going on. They found that Canillo had grown large, reached the pot and eaten the food. Although they threw Canillo into the river, he escaped to the sun and punished his people with heavy droughts. To placate Canillo, they asked Huenteao, another mythical founder, to marry him to his daughter. The wedding was celebrated, and Huenteao told Canillo: ‘You stay here, in my house, because you are my son-in-law. And never again go doing wrongs. Imprison yourself here’. Canillo absorbed the family’s food, then he absorbed the sun’s energy, but, finally, through kinship, Huenteao absorbed him. In the west, burning is meant to get rid of something or to extract energy from it. In the indigenous context, burning is done to further processes of absorption, and absorption is crucial to transformation. To burn is to make a hard substance absorbable into a medium. The substance, through combustion, disintegrates, producing light (energy, flames) and a particulate substance (smoke), and the particulate substance disperses into the medium until it becomes completely absorbed. Thus, burning enacts absorption. Things that are hard and difficult to be absorbed are made absorbable through burning. Further, regarding surfaces, there is a process of continual breakdown and the undermining of surfaces. Hard substances have very discernible surfaces, fluid substances less so, and particulate substances (e.g. smoke, fog, odours) have highly indiscernible surfaces. Particulate substances can be absorbed, and their surfaces will dissipate. What transpires is an 40 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra intention to disrupt surfaces so that they are broken down, again and again, into increasingly indiscernible states. Smoke, as Burman (2009) notes, depends on the nature of the elements from which it is made. The quality of the smoke, in this sense, ‘is derived from the elements that are burnt’ (ibid.: 118). In a similar way, as smoke connects humans with spiritual beings, there is also a link between species and spirits. Burman (2009) suggests that although spirits are fed with odours and smoke, not every odour is suitable for them. Some are used to attract them, to satisfy them; others, on the contrary, are means of protecting the community from an unwanted spirit. Smoke, in this sense, works either as a threshold or as a shield for humans. The notion of food for the spirits and its association with smoke that has been worked through specific preparations implies injecting a substance into the medium to transform its relation with ordinary life. Substances are manipulated to shift materials from hard, fast and non-absorbable states into states which make them absorbable (via a particulate state, smoke) to the spirit. The action and energy to shift states inject a particulate substance into the medium, and thus the spirit absorbs it, sucking up all particulate substances as it seems colloquial bent on doing. The agency and power of the people relating to spirits develop skills to shift hard matter and discernible surfaces into states where the surface breaks down and can be absorbed. The action seems to be to inject a particulate substance into the medium like a sort of cloud rather than setting up a hard shield. Hardening The incorporation of smoke in the ritual life of Aymara and Mapuche societies provides a different understanding of the intermingling of humans and nonhumans. Its use directly concerns air as the medium where human life is immersed. Variations in the medium, we suggest, allow modes of communication between humans and non-humans other than those prevalent in daily life. The behaviour of air and smoke (and water and other particles that it transports) encompasses human life. As María Ester Grebe (1995) describes, the wind, depending on which cardinal points it comes from, is treated as follows: winds from the east ( puelmapu) are considered good and are associated with spirits that are benefactors. Likewise, the wind that comes from the south (willimapu) announces a good harvest, and it is considered a bearer of good luck. Contrary to these winds, one from the north predicts bad weather, thunderstorms, frost, disease and death, and it brings bad luck. The westerly wind (lafkenmapu) carries darkness, evil, storms, tidal waves, damaging rain, snow and frost, as well as bringing crop ruin, serious illness and death. It is associated with the wekufe (evil spirit), bad luck and evil. In general, the Mapuche are sensitive to climate changes: they attribute changing weather, gusty winds or unexpected rain to the misbehaviour of human beings. The Aymara are also sensitive to the wind and, as such, might be considered a weather culture. Van Kessel and Enríquez (2002) describe the winds as an integral part of the Aymara living experience. The words vintur cussi used for the wind mean joy and the end of the serranía (mountain range). The wind is a partner in Air, smoke and fumes 41 many agricultural activities, and a good part of the work would be impossible to undertake with no wind. The winds come from sajama, the west, and some of his echoes are heard in its blowing, echoes that are equally meaningful among the Mapuche and are known as aukinkos. The intense ritual life organised around air, fumes and steam suggests ways of co-opting materials that integrate human and non-human domains. Inhalation, burning, production of coloured smoke and the use of specific materials for fire to attain specific ritual goals are meant for assembling inner parts of the human body and spirits and for linking humans and non-humans (Burman 2009). Diverse types of smoke are ritually worked for various purposes, using particular types of wood from different species of tree or plant for firewood – such as foye (Drimyswinteri) or pellin (Nothofagus obliqua). Before his funeral, for example, the corpse of a Mapuche ulmen (wealthy, rich man) rests on a wooden grid made from the pellin or Chilean roble tree and is enveloped by smoke from the foye or canelo (Latcham 1909). The selection of the materials for the fire is far from arbitrary. The canelo is a sacred tree for the Mapuche, but it is also rich in tannin, which makes its smoke spicy and astringent. Tannin also contributes to preserving the body that has to await its funeral that will take place some months later. When entering the nguillatún – the Mapuche main religious celebration – the participants are required to approach the fire where the pellin is burnt. The pellín is a tree that has strong ties with humans, especially in funeral ceremonies (Skewes et al. 2011). The participant is invited to the nguillatún to apellinarse, that is, to protect him- or herself using the smoke born out of the fire. This use of the word differs from the most traditional one that refers to someone who has grown old enough to achieve maturity. After the funeral of an Aymara person, relatives and neighbours must sahumarse (cleanse themselves) with the smoke of aromatic plants such as rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), sage (Salvia officinalis) or chilli (Capsicum annuum) before entering the dead person’s house (van Kessel 2001). Before travelling, a machi rubs herself with the dense fog that – early in the morning – is abundant in the area. As an explanation, she says that it is a way of protecting herself from the trip’s dangers. In so doing, she emulates the pitrén, mountains that shield themselves behind the fog when some unwanted intrusion occurs. Both the machi and the mountains are responding to the same pattern of self-protection, and from the viewpoint of the medium, they are both manipulating substances to create an absorbable surface that makes them indestructible when faced with unwanted forces. Furthermore, as Latcham (1909) points out, the smoke is a part of the machi: it is regarded as his or her family spirit. The notion of shielding denotes the efforts made to thicken the air. Burning certain substances is clearly intended for that purpose. Some of the shamanic rituals of the Mapuche include the burning of canelo (Drimyswinteri) by the entrance door of the machi’s ruka (hut). ‘From the fire arose a thick, pungent smoke, which completely shrouded the entrance’ (Latcham 1909: 365). Then, the machi takes his stand in front of this fire, ‘face upturned and eyes unblinking for more than half an hour, inhaling without flinching the clouds of suffocating 42 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra smoke that enveloped him, and seemingly lost to everything around him’. More than a hundred years later, we have witnessed the same pattern in the initiation rite of a machi from Riñinahue, in the Ranco Lake area. The ceremony – the machipurrún – was the last one in her initiation process. Under the surveillance of an elder machi who trained her, and counting on the assistance of her helper and translator, she danced and climbed the rewe (the ceremonial pole) and entered into a state of ecstasy while speaking in tongues. Her dramatic dance was constantly stimulated by smoke, both coming from a fire and from the tobacco that her assistant provided her. The absorption of the smoke made it possible for her to access the spiritual domain and to become symbolically united with the sacred branches of the cinnamon, as Faron (1964) describes. The manipulation of the medium, in this case, creates a rarefied atmosphere that wraps up the shaman, isolating her from her followers and the experience of ordinary life. Conclusions The contribution of philosophers such as Miguel de Unamuno (1954) is crucial for understanding that agency is more a relational property rather than an attribute of agents. Authors such as Ingold (2011, 2008), Massey (2005) and Latour (1993) have emphasised that on-going agential processes result from the interaction of entities and not from entities in and of themselves. The ritual practices concerning smoke among the Mapuche and the Aymara suggest that more than the endurance of things, it is in their transformation – into different states – where the conditions for the existence of a world in process ought to be sought. Contrary to Spinoza’s conatus and Unamuno’s views of things aiming to be other while persisting as themselves, the rituals of the Mapuche and Aymara indigenous world suggest that things are meant to be others, or even to be more than one thing at any given time, depending on the circumstances and the point of view. Such transformations are associated with the energetic shifting of things as hard and persistent (with discernible surfaces) to substances, which are dispersed and evanescent, having their surfaces continually ruptured. By injecting substances – smoke – into the medium, the Aymara and Mapuche rituals create conditions for the interaction between humans and spiritual beings. These rituals create multiple surfaces with increasing perceptual uncertainty, and, in an evanescent condition, such surfaces are furnished with the means that might absorb or disperse the transcendent beings. In so doing, the ritual practice expands the articulations among substances of the landscape that escape daily awareness. The visible connections between humans and non-humans in everyday life are no more than a thin crust that hides more than it reveals, that is, the material forces that are shaping the landscape. Naïve realism consists of the mere belief that the real corresponds to the visible. Contrary to this notion and certain about the existence of deep vibrant forces, Mapuche and Aymara ritual practices aim to access domains that escape from the self-evident presences of daily life. To reach such domains, substances, surfaces and mediums ought to be altered. The twisting of the relation between medium, substance and surface is a powerful avenue for accessing fields that are far removed from ordinary experience. To Air, smoke and fumes 43 traverse into such domains, people have to walk through an evanescent surface made of smoke. Likewise, in moving through the uncertain domains, the body itself needs to be shielded with the thin surface provided by smoke. Such a shield is simultaneously coloured and scented in ways that are pleasant for good spirits and unpleasant for evil spirits. As a chemical composite, the smoke requires burning elements that vary according to local knowledge, the most powerful ones being those that concentrate odours. Coincidentally, the trees and bushes that provide the sources for the good smoke are invested with high ritualistic value. Although not enough evidence is available for demonstrating a process of cultural exchange prior to the Conquest, the Aymara and the Mapuche people, in the use of fire and smoke, have created an important repertoire of resources aimed at accessing domains that escape ordinary consciousness. The presence of smoke is key in altering daily consciousness, in divinatory practices, in retribution for what came from the land, in purifying bodies of humans and animals and so forth. A more detailed study of the commonalities found in this research could prove more intimate connections in the Andean world. Is the spiritual world a material realm that escapes ordinary consciousness? The question goes far beyond our possibilities of providing a convincing answer. Nonetheless, a close cultural examination of the material discussed in this chapter suggests that local cosmologies, as those of the Mapuche and the Aymara, deal with spirits as beings, living in other environs that require avenues to connect them to the daily life of the living. Instead of assuming the existence of a division between the spiritual and the material world, or between the sacred and the profane, a more productive approach is the one suggested by the local cosmologies: elements of the universe are connected by material conduits, such as smoke, and they deserve close observation. From a theoretical point of view, some reflection ought to be given to Gibson’s (2015) concepts of substance, surface and medium. The consideration of smoke as a particulate substance, no matter how evanescent it can be, suggests that definitions about the materiality of the landscape are contingent on time scales, cultural practices and local definitions. Sometimes, contrary to Spinoza or Unamuno, things such as fire or smoke aim to become something else. Notes 1 This chapter is part of two research projects, Fondecyt 1120139: ‘La impronta andina en el sistema cosmovisionario mapuche williche’ and Fondecyt 1140598: ‘Antropología del Bosque’. An important contribution came from our research assistants, Pablo Rojas B. and Wladimir Riquelme M. The authors acknowledge the stimulating work of Mike Anusas and Cristián Simonetti, editors of this collection. Finally, a significant contribution was made by Christine Hills, who reviewed this chapter’s grammar. 2 The sahumerios are offerings of incense that are thought to be pleasant for the spirits. Bibliography Bacigalupo, A.M. 2007. Shamans of the Foye Tree: Gender, Power, and Healing among the Chilean Mapuche. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press. 44 Juan Carlos Skewes and Debbie Guerra Bennett, J. 2010. Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. 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