(Review) Vibrant Voices: Women, Myth, and the Arts, editors Sid Reger & Marna Hauk, by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

If you are passionate about Goddess in your heart and mind and life, you only need to see/hear the titles of the five sections of this book Vibrant Voices: Women, Myth, and the Arts to know that you want to read it and enjoy its images. In my opinion, a passion for Goddess is inseparable from rampant creativity pouring forth and/or begging for expression in one’s life: it is Her nature, it is who She is. And in Her cosmology, nothing is mundane/profane: everyday acts may become conscious art forms. The titles of the sections, which beckon, are:

1. From the Beginning: Research into Images of the Female Divine

2. Inquiry into the Art of Experiencing the Goddess

3. Honoring Our Artist-Scholar Foremothers

4. Artists, Their Work and Their Words

5. Herstories and Solidarities

This book is indeed a celebration of women’s creativity in all its forms: visual arts, textiles, sculpture, dance, poetry, dream, altar making and storytelling. It is also a thoroughly scholarly approach, grounding all the contributions in well researched and much considered thought. It is Volume 2 of proceedings from the 2014 annual conference of the Association for the Study of Women and Mythology.

The context for the book is set beautifully in the first essay by Arisika Razak as she recounts the earliest of all human beginnings, in deep relationship with an alive world: and how central the female was to this. Arisika writes: 

Long before we developed writing, we placed messages in rock shelters open to the sky, in caves deep within the body of the earth, and in high plateaus and cliffs to which we ceremonially returned. We wrote, in the language of artistic expression, not only for ourselves but also for the returning generations, about what was important, revered and necessary for our lives. This is the well from which human art was generated. Although modern technocapitalism and commodity culture have obscured this beginning, it is still the source drawn upon by many cultures, particularly the ones discussed in this book[1].

There is a brilliant article by Miriam Robbins Dexter on Sacred Display: Divine and Magical Female Figures of Ancient Eurasia, followed by an important article by Javanese Muslim artist, Aprina Murwanti, on The Goddess Sri Spirit in Javanese Mitoni Pregnancy Ritual: Traditional Lurik Woven Cloths in Installation Art. The worship of Sri is an indigenous tradition in Javanese culture: she is associated with fertility, and underpins the Mitoni pregnancy ritual of protection, part of which is the weaving and wearing of sacred lurik cloths.

The article by Yuria Celidwen, Tonantzin-Coatlique-Guadalupe: Christian Symbolism, Colonization and Social Justice, offers a much needed analysis of the meshing of these narratives over time, within the context of Goddess by these names. In my opinion, such clarity about the influences on metaphors and ritual practices in cultures that have been colonized, contributes much to the present: so that choices can be made about what story one wants to tell, and/or the creative conscious combinations one may make, and are being made.  As Yuria says: 

… by realizing the connotations of the narratives that create our identity, we necessarily comprehend the ideologies by which we live. By understanding the origins of these ideologies, we can better respond and re-create new perspectives that can benefit us all[2].

There is no doubt that the Lady, named here in three guises, lives on in the hearts and minds of the people; they do desire Her. But what narrative guides the cosmology, who may She be, and who may She become?

Marna Hauk, Triangle Canyon of the Goddesses Dream, 2014.

I found the three essays in Section 2 of Vibrant Voices to be amazing journeys into the experiential modes of very different ritual practices: Mei-Mei Sanford examines and unfolds the “abundant embodiment” and complexity of the orisa deities in the West African Yoruba tradition; Toni Truesdale eloquently presents women’s expression of the sacred in daily routines; and Marna Hauk speaks of earth dreaming, drawing a great deal from her astounding doctoral work entitled “Gaia E/mergent: Earth Regenerative Education Catalyzing Empathy, Creativity, and Wisdom”. I found myself constantly making notes for further exploration throughout the reading of Marna Hauk’s essay. I was personally very excited by the resonance of her work with my own, primarily the Gaian context: Marna refers to the Hygeian dream temples of ancient Greece, as a base for her work, and I was reminded too of Delphi and the original nature of the oracular temple and priestesses there. She says: 

Earth dreaming can envision possibilities, perhaps sourced from the generative, collaborative ecomind, ecological intelligence, or Gaian intelligence of planet and people … Earth dreaming is a current option for reaching underneath the grid culture overlay of (post) modernity and recontacting the primary biocultural matrix[3].

Each of these essays is supported with beautiful images, that teach so much in themselves.

Mary B. Kelly, Lucina, Swedish Goddess of Light, 1989.

 I was moved by the poem by Gina Belton that introduces Section 3 which honors two artist-scholar foremothers and their work, Lydia Ruyle and Mary B. Kelly. The poem’s title is “I Give You to the Ancestors”, and it expresses their intimate presence. Joan Marler’s essay in that section, “An Appreciation of Mary B. Kelly 1936-2016”, includes a substantial number of Mary’s paintings, and comprehensive story of Mary B. Kelly’s travels particularly to Eastern Europe, Ukraine, and Russia for first hand research of Goddess embroideries; and referring to Mary B. Kelly’s emphasis on questioning established interpretations, much of which has been done by men blinded by their own religious and cultural biases. She encouraged her students: “Listen to what people say and record it. This is especially important with women, who have suffered millennia from lack of documentation of their artwork and religious beliefs[4].” I learned so much in the reading of this rich unfolding of the work of Mary B. Kelly.

Section 4 of Vibrant Voices is a plethora of art and story that could occupy one for a long time. I felt very nurtured as I read Laura Fragua-Cota’s presentation and gazed upon the images. One piece: My Cornmeal Bowl Full of Prayers of a Pueblo Indian woman sitting on the floor and holding a bowl of cornmeal, and holding it as if she were a bit selfish for the bowl. Laura describes the corn itself as “one of the many ‘Mothers’ that care for and nurture their children”, and that the woman “has many prayers for her family, her home, the village and all of the things she desires for the good of all”[5]. Another piece that I enjoyed was Who Made the Box? It is an image of traditional ceremonial figures, who are clown-type assistants, emerging from a box; and the questions that Laura poses along with the image are a valuable contemplation: “Who put us in the box? What is the box made out of? What is in the box that we no longer need?”[6]. The last painting presented by Laura Fragua-Cota is “Mother Earth’s Blessing”, along with the story of the work’s evolution, which is that it was her response to a call for artwork by Native Americans by the University of New Mexico Sandoval Regional Medical Center. There were five artists who collaborated, and Laura’s contribution was this painted Mother Earth whom Laura believes prays that we humans will “walk in wellness … including both our human relatives and all other beings that share this world”[7].

Lydia Ruyle, Oshun, 2009.

In that section of the book also is a remarkable piece by Cristina Biaggi In the Eyes of the Medusa: it is a classic work, and scholarly, as well as presenting Cristina’s iconic images. There is also Lydia Ruyle’s lecture notes from her 2012 presentation for the San Francsico AWSM conference, along with the images. It is a wonderful collection called “Splash: Mermaids”, one of my favourite topics. It includes a rich gathering of mermaid goddesses from around the world. 

Sid Reger, Wisdom Harvest, 2013.

This section concludes with a feast of work by twelve artists “seeking the holy wind”, (as the collection is named) which will connect the reader/viewer who seeks also. Those artists are Rae Atira-Soncea, Denise Kester, Helen Klebesadel, Louie Laskowski, Lisa Levart, Barb Lutz, Lisa Noble, Merry Grant Norris, Lauren Raine, Sid Reger, Cristina Rose Smith, and Carmen R. Sonnes. This collection of works offers a communion of sisters who have uncovered Her form and Her nature, and given Her expression. So many of us (Goddess women and some men) need such communion, scattered as we frequently are. We may hope that these works also reach a broader audience, for those who yet await Her epiphany. 

Louie Laskowski, Praying Mantis & Butterfly Goddess, 1995.

The concluding section 5 Herstories and Solidarities opens with a stirring invocation, a poem by Ann Filemyr, “Calling You-Who!”. It will call you. It needs to be read aloud, and preferably to each other. For me, reading the first essay, Simone Clunie’s The Representation of Goddess Imagery in Feminist Art, was a profound experience; as Simone presented an overview of the historical context, the fertile branching and evolution, of feminism and feminist art as it unfolded through diverse racial communities, particularly in the era of the 60’s, 70’s and onward. She names so many of the foremothers and their publications, and the energy of those times: which was to question everything and begin afresh to name and express the female (ourselves) from within our own female skins and experience. Personally and collectively many of us of those times asked: What did that look like? How did that sound?, as we shed the enveloping straight-jackets of patriarchal narrative and image, and sought Her form and Her shape (our own).

Yolanda Lopez, Nuestra Madre Coatlique, 1981-88.

Simone Clunie’s presentation features consideration of the art of Monica Sjoo, Marybeth Edelson, Mayumi Oda, Yolanda Lopez, and Ana Mendieta in particular, along with art from each. She considers what  links these artists, and she observes three qualities: (i) a feminist awakening to themselves “as female in a masculinist/patriarchal world, whether based on social, racial, ethnic, or political catalysts”[8]; (ii) the female body as a central image of these artists’ practice, whatever the chosen medium, paper, wood or canvas; and (iii) an identification with the functions of the female body, natural cycles as strength and not as negative aspects, including “female sexual desire; menstruation; the connection of the female body to nature and corresponding cycles such as the moon’s-birth and death; the act of physically and mentally giving birth;: all actions to be valorized”[9].

An important essay in this final section of Vibrant Voices is Cristina Rose Smith’s Stories of Multicultural Integrative Solidarity: A Mestiza (Xicana, Filipina, and Euroamerican) Approach to Creative Texts. As a woman who embodies a multiplicity of ancestry (Xicana-Filipina-Euroamerican), and as such identifying as a mestiza, Cristina Rose Smith addresses the common internal division and racism experienced and encouraged by “a pervasive white masculinist mentality that would have her locate herself as being from one homeland and identify as either a woman of color or white”[10]. She clarifies the reaching for a “ multicultural integrative solidarity”, as she has done, and analyses the work of others who have done so. She says “We are (i) challenged by indigenous healers to decolonize and embrace our ancestral roots and (ii) encouraged to grieve”[11]. Her very moving poem I ask my younger sister expresses this …

how I feel whitewashed.

Don’t you feel the same, sister?

The whole poem needs to be read from the mountaintop.

I personally found a new understanding of myself as I read Cristina’s research, being able to some extent to identify with the edges of her experience, especially in regard to the recovery of indigenous roots and decolonizing my mind; though her experience and that of the radical women of color who inspired and nurtured her research and creativity, has been much more confronting everyday. Cristina writes clearly of how she works with the complexities of coming into an integrative solidarity, choosing not to subscribe to a whiteness framework in reading and writing mestiza stories. I felt excited and moved by her telling of the mother-figure character Maria in Melinda C. Bobis’ Flight Is Song on Four Winds: how the poet herself becomes the Maria-mother “through combined ethnic, feminist and tribal perspectives”, creating “an empowered mestiza role model”[12], who acts as a transformer (“nepantlera”) and culture bearer of her communities (“babaylan”), ushering women into creative expression and life.

Cristina’s study found that only with the trinity of indigenization, decolonization, and transformational multiculturalism, can mestizas “acknowledge their privilege, deconstruct the hierarchical dualisms that are created from racism and return to their indigenous heritage”[13]. She concludes with acknowledgement of the necessity of grief for this process, and a profound personal locating of her mythology.

I highly recommend this volume of rich scholarly and cultural work that gives insight into diverse manifestations and expressions of women and their spirit. Even in everyday routine, and perhaps most commonly, women persistently create culture and indeed the cosmos: indigenous women never forgot this. Woman’s everyday work around the globe has commonly included art, expressive of connection to the sacred; art and its flourishing may thus be understood as innate to her being. This volume of Vibrant Voices: Women, Myth, and the Arts helps to bring this home.

To purchase a copy: Vibrant Voices: Women, Myth, and the Arts 


NOTES:

[1]p.5

[2]p.79 

[3]p.137

[4]citation from Mary B. Kelly, Goddess Embroideries of the Northlands, p.xvi.

[5]p.179

[6]p.185

[7]p.187

[8]p.247

[9]p.249

[10]p. 275

[11]p.276

[12]p.284

[13]p.285


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