Why do people all over the world make masks? Poke two eye-holes in a piece of paper, hold it up to your face, and let your voice growl, “Who wants to know?” The mask is already working its transformation, taking you out of yourself whether assisting you in channeling this “other voice,” granting you a new persona to dramatize, or merely disguising you. In any case, the act of masking brings the participants and the audience (who are indeed the other participants) into an arena where all concerned are willing to join in the mystery.

Every week for the past five years or so I have driven past the floating masks mural on Lankershim just south of Weddington in North Hollywood on my way to the Art of the Dance Academy and have never been able to ignore it. Some of the images were familiar to me from my studies in the history of art, but others remained obscure and intriguing. So, quite apart from the pleasing technique of the mural put there by the Ryman Program for Young Artists, a program for teens between 9th and 12th grades (see their web- site: www.ryman.org), I thought I would apply myself to the task of hunting down some of the various examples those Young Artists chose for their buoyant composition. Please enjoy the fol- lowing cluster of cultural factoids:

Starting from the left edge, it’s a mask from the Pacific Northwest coast Kwakiutl people used in a masked dance called Kwekwe. These dances were per- formed by four dancers (each of whom had inherited their healing powers), at times of birth, marriage, naming and illness. The Kwekwe was a dance originated by the Salish people. Among the people of the Pacific Northwest, dances were proprietary and either inherited or obtained some other way. The Kwakiutl got the Kwekwe dance by showing up on the Comox’s doorstep prepared for battle and were granted the dance and the appurtenant ritual equipment including masks and rattles.

Next is the funeral mask of Tutankhamun, the 14th c. BC youthful king of Egypt. It is probably a likeness.

The two African horned masks are both from the Bobo people of the eastern part of Burkina Faso and part of Mali. They are worn with costumes made of fibers and covered with shells or feathers. Divinity resides in the mask, and the masqueraders (all men who had been through initiation rites) cease to be them- selves in order to become one with the mask. This opens the doorway of communication between everyday life and the spiritual realm. The Bobo farmers use masquerades for agricultural festivities, initiations, and funerals. The masquerade at the end of the mourning period pro- vided a cut-off for excessive sorrow and allowed for the resumption of daily life.

The small mask near the center at the top of the wall is apparently a rendition of a Javanese Wayang Topeng theater mask. It portrays Panji, one of the most famous characters in the dance theater of Java. The Panji story is told in a five part dance cycle that takes Prince Panji through innocence and adolescence up through old age. For each life stage there is a different mask. The green color symbolizes peace. The main themes are love, the Bad defeated by the Truth, and the necessity of struggle. The dance itself has been waning in popularity because, despite being tremendously rigorous, it is not very exciting. A mask maker and instructor at Bandung’s State Dance Academy calls Panji “a form of meditation…thoughts must be empty…In such a state it might appear to the spectator as if the dancer were standing perfectly still and yet moments later he could be standing right in front of him.”

To its right is a grinning mask with squiggle hair. This comical-appearing mask is actually a sinister artifact. It is an Austrian “Mask of Shame” constructed to be worn by women as they stood trial for witchcraft.

Just try not to be silly in “Groucho Glasses!” Wearing a pair of these beauties gives you a way to channel his comic genius. Or just a place to hide. I have heard that in the small northern California town of Arcata, if you are in the food co-op and are in a hurry (or just don’t feel like socializing), there is a bin of Groucho Glasses that you may avail yourself of to signal your unapproachability.

The smiling bearded character is from Japanese Noh drama. It comes from Okina, the oldest Noh play, which has been performed since the 10th century. Sometimes known as the First Play,

it is used as an introductory ritual before the cycle of five Noh plays begins. The actor (generally the senior member of the troupe) dances for peace, good harvest, and eternal youth. On its left is a bit of painting that I believe was not an original part of the mural.

The teardrop-shaped image to the right represents a bark-cloth mask of the Solomon Islands in Melanesia.

At the top of the wall is what appears to be a Chinese Opera mask. These masks are miniature replicas of the facial make-up for the actors in Chinese opera. The symbolism of the colors (in this case, red for loyalty, black for integrity and white for craftiness) cues the audience as to the personality of each character.

At its right is the pre-contact Mexican jade and shell pectoral from the Zapotec site of Monte

Alban in Oaxaca. It represents Murcielago, a god of night and death, also known as the bat god. Bats are typically associated with shamanism (since they move easily between – and dwell in both – the underworld and above).

There are occasions for masking marking rites of passage, renewal ceremonies, festivals, ritual drama, and shamanic healing. Some masks are part of a carefully preserved formal tradition, where the audience needs to recognize each char- acter on sight, and their shapes, colors and facial expressions are carefully transmitted. Some are individualized variations on a theme or convention. When he brings a new mask into being, the Pacific Northwest Haida artist Robert Davidson of British Columbia considers himself “a medium to transmit those images from the spirit world.” In carrying forth the traditional artforms and iconographic language of his people, he looks back in order to “put the pieces together and move on…to keep expanding the circle” of experience and knowledge of the Haida people’s relationship to their own traditional stories and worldview.

If this has whetted your appetite for further exploration of worldwide masks and masquerades, there is an annual International Festival of Masks hosted by the Craft and Folk Art Museum (CAFAM) at 5814 Wilshire Blvd. in Los Angeles. The mission of event is to promote respect for and understanding of diverse cultures. This year’s event which takes place on October 26 from 11:00am to 5:00pm at Hancock Park on Miracle Mile (between Fairfax and La Brea). It starts with a parade of children from local schools who have participated in mask-making workshops and includes dance and music performances, art activities, food and craft vendors with an international emphasis.

Brooke Alberts is an Irish musician, Girl Scout leader and has a Masters degree in Medieval Studies.

From FolkWorks Volume 3 Number 5 September – October 2003