Showing posts with label anthropology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anthropology. Show all posts

Friday, 19 October 2018

Gold-weights as cryptography: the memetics of Asante proverbs

Proverbs are an integral part of Asante Twi (the dialect of Akan native to the Asante people. Each proverb represents a moral tenant, and many reference a pantheon of characters from local folklore. In effect, proverbs are a kind of shorthand through which such abstract concepts such as mortality, sorcery, gender, experience, and duty can be invoked in just a few words.

Passed down over uncountable generations, many proverbs are so esoteric that they are unintelligible to those unfamiliar with the folklore they reference. As Sir Hugh Clifford writes in his preface to R. S. Rattray’s translation of Asante Proverbs: the Primitive Ethics of a Savage People, 

‘Many of the aphorisms will be found to be somewhat cryptic, and it is rather daunting to find the curt dictum that“When a fool is told a proverb, the meaning of it has to be explained to him.” If this which is apparently axiomatic to the Tshi-speaking native of West Africa—be applied to the student of Mr. Rattray's book, few of us, it is to be feared, will escape conviction of folly.’ (Rattray, 1918)

In an era when ‘the Primitive Ethics of a Savage People’was considered an appropriate subtitle for this scholarly volume, wholesale condemnation of Asante morality based on the above discrepancy seems inevitable. Yet—to his credit, given the colonial zeitgeist in which he was writing—Clifford cautions the reader that the purpose of anthropology is to understand different cultures’ perspectives, not to pass value judgements on them:

‘Both [theories of wisdom], I think, should whet our curiosity, and neither should excite our derision. Our task is to endeavour to understand the workings of the minds by which these sayings have been evolved and of the minds which have adopted them as expressions of the collective experience of a people [emphasis added]’ (Rattray, 1918).

Here, Clifford recognises that Asante proverbs comprise not a mere library of witticisms, but they are also manifestations of wisdom accrued over generations, and which continue to evolve to suit the present and future needs of their people. The fluidity of proverbs makes it especially difficult for outsiders unfamiliar with the society’s current events to understand their meanings. This effect is most starkly apparent in the number of proverbs that concern strangers, one of which directly references the inability (or possibly, unwillingness) of Europeans to understand Asante culture: 

Ohoho ani akese-akese, nanso enhu man mu asem, na nea ode kurow aniwa ukete-ukete na oho mu asem [diacritical marks omitted].
A stranger may have big big eyes, but he does not see into what is going on among the people he is among, whereas the town's man, with little little eyes, he knows all the town's affairs (Rattray, 1918).

Just as proverbs permeate the Asante oral tradition, so too does proverbial imagery feature prominently in their material culture. Whilst interning in Object Collections sections at the Pitt Rivers Museum, I had the opportunity and resources to learn about the museum’s collection of Asante artefacts, some of which are on display in the Lower Gallery. The PRM houses dozens of Asante gold-weights, many of which were carefully created to artistically represent the wisdom of the ancestral proverbs and folklore so central to Asante culture. Upon reading about the history of these gold-weights, the cultural significance of the imagery depicted through them became abundantly clear.



Intricately detailed and carefully curated, these hollow brass figures were cast by pouring molten metal into fired clay moulds. Once cooled, the figures were used as counterweights when measuring gold dust as payment in commercial transactions. Much like the weights used by miners in the California Gold Rush, the Asante weights were precision tools, and they were carefully calibrated to function in Ghana’s then entirely gold-based economy. 

The process of moulding, casting, calibrating, and perfecting the finished product was so complex that only skilled metalworkers could produce the weights; thus, they were considered precious and powerful commodities. Like other African blacksmithing traditions, Asante metalworking was a mysterious and potentially dangerous process akin to sorcery. Blacksmiths were respected and feared, forges were located outside the village grounds, and many rituals and taboos had to be observed to appease the spirits during smelting. The Asante people’s choice to use such a mysterious and powerful material for the quotidian task of measuring indicates that—despite their utilitarianism—the weights were not considered mere tools, but important expressions of Asante culture and heritage. 

The power inherent in the metal that comprises the weights is augmented by the forms that they take. The weights generally fall into one of two categories: geometric and figural. Geometric weights can take the shape of pyramids, cubes, spheres, discs, and any number of polygons, and they are often decorated with ornamental, Islamic-style motifs. Figural weights, in contrast, represent objects, animals, and people significant in Asante culture, especially those featuring in the multitude of Asante proverbs. It is these figural weights which we shall primarily examine as examples of folkloric encryption.

As Asante children mature, they learn the meanings of more and more proverbs from their elders, eventually becoming fully culturally-literate by the time they themselves are elders. An outsider, however, would have no way of learning the meanings of proverbs except by being taught, which requires first gaining the people’s trust. Thereby, Asante morality is both self-perpetuating (it is passed down through generations) and self-preserving (it cannot be learned except by those fully intrenched in Asante society, and thus cannot be easily altered by external intervention). Both of these features are important mechanisms in ensuring that the people’s wisdom is suitably protected, a useful asset in information security.

As well as protecting the integrity of the proverbs themselves, the inheritance of Asante wisdom also strengthens the structure of Asante society macroscopically. Firstly, the act of passing down folkloric knowledge from one generation to the next fortifies the Asante tradition of ancestor worship: the proverbs grant the ancestors immortality through memory. Moreover, the system through which elders bequeath wisdom to their juniors ensures that the most experienced—and thus most qualified—members of society have the most control over its affairs, a system which (theoretically) ensures greater political and economic stability. 

Gold-weights such as those in the PRM’s collection not only ensure fairness in commercial transactions (as is their intended purpose), but lend physical form to otherwise abstract facets of morality. Their materiality is at once mystical and terrestrial, encrypted and apparent. They are tactile, multisensory reminders that ethics are as real and necessary parts of the world as any physical object. They are cultural codes, decipherable only by those who understand their cultural context and who appreciate their power.

Though it is doubtful that Asante proverbs would have been intentionally devised as mechanisms for transmitting secrets securely, further research is required to determine to what extent this phenomenon was intentionally exploited in a wider context, if indeed it was at all. I do not attempt to attribute authorial intent where there is none, but rather to suggest the possibility that cryptography today can reach beyond the scope of its modern applications in cybersecurity. 

Though the information transmitted by exchange of these proverbs cannot be extracted in plaintext—as in conventional examples of cryptography—their meaning transcends the boundaries of language, encapsulating the visceral, emotional, uniquely human experience collected over innumerable generations of wisdom. That, I suggest, is the message encrypted not only in Asante culture, but in the wider spirit of human creativity as well. 

Miranda Loughry
PRM intern summer 2018


Wednesday, 1 November 2017

Sensing Culture at the Pitt Rivers Museum, October 2017

In October Jamie Cameron (Research Assistant, Oxford Internet Institute) came to the Pitt Rivers Museum to 3D scan an object in the museum’s collection; a model of a totem pole (also known as a crest pole) made by the Northwest Coast Haida (1891.49.13 .1 - .2). The scan will be 3D printed and used for Sensing Culture, a Heritage Lottery funded project, led by the Royal National Institute of Blind People (RNIB). One of the aims at the project is to develop and produce ways in which the visitor experience for blind and partially sighted people can be improved. Other museums within the University of Oxford GLAM (Gardens, Libraries, Archives and Museums) are also involved.

 Jamie Cameron '3D scanning' the model Crest Pole © Pitt Rivers Museum


Our colleague Laura Peers (Curator of the Americans and Professor of Museum Anthropology) recommended the wooden model of a Haida totem pole for 3D printing. The pole was made in Haida Gwaii, British Columbia, Canada, most likely by artist Charles Edenshaw. Our documentation tells us that the model pole was collected by resident missionary Charles Harrison (who published accounts of the Haida) at the end of the 19th Century. The pole itself is carved with ‘crest figures’ that relate to lineages, aspects of status and property rights. To the Haida of the Northwest Coast, the act of looking up at these representations shown on the sides of giant crest poles would have triggered a visual reminder of the stories of how ancestral beings bestowed certain rights on a family. The figures on this particular model pole include an eagle, bears and their cubs in human or ancestral form, frogs and humans.

Unfortunately we don’t yet have insight into why this particular model totem pole was made. Could it have been a prototype for a much larger pole that was never carved? Was it a commercial product for Europeans, or could it have been made to order by European collectors to illustrate the types of narratives on totems that the Haida produced?

 © Pitt Rivers Museum (1891.49.13 .1 - .2) 
In 2009 the museum received a Haida delegation as part of the project “Haida Material Culture in British Museums: Generating New Forms of Knowledge”. The delegates, when looking at the model crest pole, observed that some of the original museum labelling is incorrect, and that the bear at the bottom of the pole was holding in its mouth a prawn or shrimp, and not a crayfish as had been labelled. They also added that this pole might be depicting the bear mother story, a popular Haida narrative. These observations were added to our online database, a living document which reflects the multi-vocality and dynamism of the museum’s collection. Visits like these highlight the importance of retaining relationships between museums and the living communities from which material culture was taken from, often under very difficult and problematic circumstances. The Pitt Rivers Museum always aims to be at the forefront in repairing relationships damaged in the past by European colonial collecting practices. We continue to generate positive outputs such as material repatriation, loans to source communities, access for originating communities to engage with and reconnect with the collection both physically and digitally, and collaborative work, such as the Great Box Project in 2014


Jamie used 3D imaging technologies, including photogrammetry, to create a ‘scan’ of the totem pole. This will be 3D printed, and such prints will allow visitors who are blind or partially sighted to ‘read’ the object through touch. Haida art uses a structured formline design, where different coloured paints highlight certain features, and on carvings such as the model pole, formline appears in incisions in shallow and deep relief. Visitors will be able to feel the incised lines on the 3D print to help understand the layout and proportions of the totem pole. Many museums are using 3D printing to engage their visitors, and it is just one of the ways that the Pitt Rivers Museum works to enable access to its collections.


Nicholas Crowe 
Assistant Curator

Monday, 15 May 2017

Learning to make armour from coconut - a tradition from Kiribati

On the 3rd April I was invited to Cambridge to attend a workshop on Coconut fibre armour from Kiribati. The Cambridge University Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology (MAA) is currently displaying the exhibition ‘The Island Warrior’ one of the many outcomes of the Pacific Presences research project. The coconut fibre armour from Kiribati has always held a fascination with me and the weapons that accompany it. I am inspired by the use of local materials, coconut fibre, shark’s teeth, ray skin and porcupine fish skin to make these fearsome objects. I think that the armour and weaponry of Kiribati epitomises the resourcefulness of an island nation. The Republic of Kiribati consists of thirty-three coral atolls isolated in the Pacific Ocean. The coconut fibre armour is unique to Kiribati and the Pitt Rivers Museum has the second largest collection of this armour in the UK after the British Museum. The armour consists of many component parts the most significant being the cuirass, which covers the torso, tunics, dungarees, trousers, forearm guards, waistbands and helmets. Today, the armoured warrior is a symbol of power and strength which appears on t-shirts and sarongs in Kiribati.








The ‘Island Warrior’ is exhibited in two show cases. One case displays the historic suit of armour from MAA’s collections and the other displays a contemporary suit made by artists Lizzy Leckie, Kaetaeta Watson and Chris Charteris. Also inspired by the use of local resources, Lizzy, Chris and Kaetaeta experimented with materials readily available to them from their home in New Zealand. They made the cuirass from twisted polyethylene twine used for fishing trawl nets. This material was successful after having discovered that the knotting technique used to make the original armour was indeed a similar technique used in making fishing nets. The overalls were made from sisal bailing twine. Other man made materials were used for the construction of the armour due to their availability, firmness and strength. As part of the workshop I was able to have a go at plying coconut fibre and the knotting and weaving techniques employed by the artists to make the contemporary suit. This opportunity gave me an insight into the specialist skills required, the time, effort and teamwork necessary to make a complete suit. I wasn’t very good at it and in attempting the weaving appreciated the whalebone needles Chris had made especially for the process, metal needles were extremely unforgiving on the hands! feel that the interdisciplinary approach embraced by the exhibition made me really examine the object and should be an approach adopted more often. The conservation element reminded me of the approach we recently applied at the PRM to reinterpret the Tahitian mourners costume from Captain Cook’s voyages now on display in the Cook case on the Lower Gallery. I was lucky enough the be able to stay for the exhibition opening where we were treated to Kiribati dancing from members of Kiribati community members living in the UK and working with the British Museum as part of their ‘object journeys’ project. We have on display in the Upper Gallery of the Museum a suit of coconut fibre Kiribati armour, do go and have a look when you are next visiting the Museum.




Faye Belsey

Assistant Curator