Dance, Ritual and Mysticism: Interview With Roberto Ferreyra
Moira Pujols
Published: July 19, 2011
At the fall of the Aztec empire in 1521, the missionaries banned the use of percussion instruments considering them pagan. In 1525, they introduced stringed instruments. The guitars made of armadillo shell were originally created in 1531. As the armadillo was a sacred animal, the instrument could be used by the Indians in their sacred dances, the Spanish pair of mandolins. This new instrument became known as shell, and resonates with the huéhuetl the ayoyotes teponaztli and, until today, when the Concheros dance.
Roberto Ferreyra spoke with disappointment about his experience in the dance Concheros in Chicago.
CT: You're a visual artist. How did you start in this dance-ritual?
RF: I started when I was in school, I do not know, maybe it was in my blood. I was struck by the dancers. At first, I didn't know how to approach these dancers. I didn't know a thing because this type of dance is not known in Michoacan. It was only in Guanajuato or the D.F. I didn't know where I was. What I had learned in Michoacán was what my grandmother taught me, quite the Purépecha. When we moved to Mexico City, I lost some of my language of purembe. We forgot all that. But what I found in the D.F. was dancing. I followed the different dancers, but could not get into groups because they were closed.
CT: These closed groups you mention, do you think this of a ritual dance? Or is it disrespectful to think of it as dance?
RF: Rather I saw the artistic, cultural, slightly romantic idea of ??Mexico that no longer existed. Even at that time the movement was a bit of a repossession politically and socially. I did not know how I fell into it because I was not looking for the spiritual because it was a little scary. I wanted something else for myself as a was to recover the historical conquest, pre-Hispanic Mexico. I was always interested in the history of Mexico. Imagine, then I find this. Always read the books that had been completed, finished, deleted, and you also have the idea that you could speak any native language because you are marginal. And then nobody wants to be marginal, but leave behind the other.
CT: How did you dance?
RF: Every time I went, I followed a person with whom I had great friendship. With that person I met another artist who was already on a tradition of dance. We began to invite groups. They gave me tests: learning to play the shell. So I spent years without being able to dance, playing the pure guitar. It is not easy to do both at once touching and dancing. It's all preparation. The dance of the middens is solar, but there is also the moon, the part that we say women, who are the revelations, and that's where you exercise your voice, music, praise songs called. And so I spent several years, until, one day at Teotihuacan for the June 21, I forget what year, I literally pushed into the ring. I bought a suit and then told myself, "you get to dance." That was a very special day. Living with them you learn the blended movements and thereafter, I was almost able to dance a hundred percent.
CT: Why do it here in Chicago? How did you get here?
RF: I came to Chicago on business. Then, Montserrat (Alsina, his wife), and a lot of factors made me stay here. I came to do my job as a visual artist, once you're dancing you can not be stopped. Someone heard that I knew how to dance Conchero, then, I was invited to teach. They saw it as somewhat folkloric shoes and also gathered to practice. But when the dance shell-gatherers knew they forgot the rest. That was in 1993. I went to Mexico for 2 years and they invited me again. I came back with a project and the group continued, but as middens, and not as folk dancers. Not that I knew where I was going to arrive, nor had a crusade, or an order from my manager or captain to open one's conscience, but little by little the group took more character. This is not the same there. People here do not have the same mystique, or the patience to learn, and no conditions. Every town in Mexico has its own butler, the dancers invite the people, each group pays the steward, food, lodging, per diem, and that the dancers go from village to village. There are no such people, but we found the churches, and although there is no dance every week, two or three times a year on the Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe, for example. We invent occasions.
CT: Do you better be dancing non-Mexican, non-indigenous?
RF: Before the eighties, dance groups were dying out because they were too stringent. At first, many did not even speak Spanish but the dance was mestizo-Zand. Many leaders realized they had to open the groups. Before there was criticizism from white people, but Chicago is different, and although at first I had problems with people saying that this was just for Mexicans, the idea was not to exclude, but the dance is known to be preserved. When people want to learn something, people will understand the following as its dictated. I do not control it.
CT: Since when there are groups in Chicago? And in the United States?
RF: In the United States since the 60's was a boom. The first group formed in Chicago as I in 1993. I see that is increasing the height of the shell mounds. I have tried to maintain the rigor and orthodoxy, but I see that sometimes the mystique remains. The visual part of the dance is beautiful, it's art, but this tradition of concheros is a jewel that must be preserved. It is unique because it is one of the few traditions in which the individual dance and play at a time, and allows you to enter a spiritual, cosmic, esoteric energy. The Concheros have a military structure based on hierarchy. We have generals, captains...we are like the Malinche, who are carrying the fire. Each captain has his group. Nahui Ohlin in-yollotl Quetzal, which is our ceremonial group, are about 35 to 40 people. We also have a cultural group that goes to schools, festivals and universities. In our case, there are people who spend more to reclaim the past than the present, which is very romantic. The dance serves as an anchor to retain their Mexico. However, the energy and dynamics unites us with the traditions, with African groups, the tribes of Oceania, and the connection to the traditions of Asia and South America are obvious. Therefore, the right to tradition is not mine, because it transcends spiritual identity. It is universal.
Moira Pujols, Dominican, is the Executive Director of Contratiempo
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