E

Expanding

Boundaries

Jeano Edwards
MA: Design:
Expanded Practice
Goldsmiths,
University of London
 Dedicated To

My Late
Grand Mother

Noami Robinson-Steers
‘Can there be a global blackness that connects,
articulates and synchronises experiences and
histories?’
 Contents
Introduction 9

Kumina: A Thematic Journey 13

Locaion/Dislocation 14
The Skin & Musicking 16
Rebellion 20

Preservation
& Its Place In The Context of Kumina 22

The Musical Feedback 28

Loop System

Design,
Research & Reflection 30
Bibliography 33
 Creators

Jasmine Padda Ras Happa Ras Prince

Goldsmiths Design Master Drummer Drummer
London. London. London.

Jasmine studies design at Goldsmiths and is one of my dearest
friends. She became interested in the project because of her love
for music and her curiosity about the sounds and practices of Ku-
mina. She is the main vocalist and sound engineer on the project.
Her involvement in the project was invaluable as she serves as the
primary technical backbone for everything audio.
Ras Happa is a Jamaican Master Drummer, he was
our London based Kumina expert and point of ref-
erence for the project. He is the person responsible
for providing the core drums that acts as a heartbeat
or pulse throughout the main sound pieces on side
‘A’ of the Record.
I was Introduced to Ras Prince by Ras Happa
during a drumming session we had organized
to both document and to host discussions
in regards to the significant of Kumina. Ras
Prince was our Bandu drummer for the night
and was both open and insightful.

Javed
Saxophonist
Jamaica/New York.
Javed is a Jamaican saxophonist who was inter-
ested in exploring the sounds of Kumina through
his lens and practice. He provided the lovely
harmonies of the saxophone to complete the
rhythms of Kumina.
 Kumina Group
Musical band Portland,
Jamaica.

Ras Cambell (seen in the center) and his Kumina group

was the base on which the project was built. They provid-
ed live sessions while I was in Jamaica, which tremendous-
ly helped contextualize the project. They are responsible
for creating the field recording on side ‘B’ of the record.

WU-LU Jeano Edwards

Musical Band Designer
London. NYC/London/Jamaica.

WU-LU is a South London based band headed by I am the Creative Director and Fa-
Miles. Miles is half Jamaican and was interested in cilitator of the project. My role was
the project from the onset. WU-LU is responsible for to facilitate the conversation and ex-
the amazing bass on track one of side ‘A’ of the record. changes between people across the di-
aspora, as a means to question the idea
of preservation as it pertains to cultur-
al practices and in particular Kumina.
Introduction
I would like to start by offering some context, as I believe this will aid in helping
the reader understand the underlying motives driving my inquiry. I was born in
Saint Thomas, a parish in the remote eastern part of Jamaica. I was raised by my
Grandmother, a direct descendant of the Maroon Tribe. The Maroons are often
described in both literary and popular cultural productions, as serving an ‘essen-
tializing’ function. Not only do Maroons embody positive values such as defiance,
resistance, and autonomy, but they represent an original cultural authenticity never
compromised by the experience of plantation slavery (Bilby, “Making” 265). The
aforementioned qualities of the Maroons, along with their rich African spiritual
practices were elements that played a major role in my upbringing and in forming
my identity.

In Saint Thomas, not far from the Maroon communities, live a group of people
who refer to themselves as ‘Africans’, members of a separate ‘nation’ which they
sometimes call the Bongo Nation. Like Maroons, they have retained a distinct iden-
tity, and an African-based religious tradition, Kumina, with its own music, dance,
ritual and cult of possession by ancestors. There has previously been confusion in
regards to the origins of Kumina. However, recent studies have shown that Ku-
mina was introduced to Jamaica shortly after emancipation by the Bongo Nation
who arrived on the island between 1841 and 1865 (Bilby, “Two Sister”).

My first experience of Kumina came from a visit to a ‘nine-night’ in Yallahs, a

community in St Thomas. Kumina sessions usually begin on the 9th night of a
nine-night - a wake, celebrating the life of the recently deceased. It was like nothing
I had seen before; Incredible pounding rhythms, guiding the dancer’s silhouettes
as they swirl, sweeping pleated cloth through the air. All revolved around a single
candle flame, placed in the center, between two drummers whose hands and drums
have been bathed in plantation rum. It was an experience that has stayed with me
as vividly as it had happened that night.
Kumina, at least the performance aspect of it - drumming, danc-
ing, singing - was widely practiced throughout the island. Its de-
cline was initiated by the introduction of the sound system into
Jamaica’s soundscape. By the time I had my first exposure to Ku-
mina - around the late 1990s- it was already on its last leg. I do
not attempt to discount the role nostalgia played in my decision
to center my major project around Kumina. However, beyond
nostalgia was the unmistakable fact that this part of my culture
was fading into obscurity. While my initial response to this im-
pending loss was an intense need to somehow preserve this part
of my childhood and culture, there also immediately arose the
question around “preservation”. The Oxford English Dictionary
defines preservation as: To Maintain (something) in its original
or existing state, to retain (a condition or state of affairs), and to
maintain or keep alive (a memory or quality) (“Preserve | Defi-
nition Of Preserve In English By Oxford Dictionaries”). All of
these definitions reflected my long-held views on what preserva-
tion means. I knew I wanted to contribute to the preservation of
Kumina but on the other hand, I knew that any conscious effort
to “preserve” would ultimately alter the very thing I was looking
to retain.

In this publication, I will examine the concept of preservation as it

relates to maintaining and propagating cultural practices such as
Kumina. This is in contrast to the more common interpretation
of preservation which simply means; maintaining (something) in
its original or existing state (“Preserve | Definition Of Preserve In
English By Oxford Dictionaries”). It is imperative to make clear
to the reader that the investigation will be undertaken through a
thematic lens - investigating the underlying themes within Kumi-
na instead of primarily looking at its distinct physical attributes
or aesthetics. My role in this effort will be that of a facilitator,
designer, and creative director/controller. Beyond exploring the
central concept mentioned above, I also seek to explore the role
of a designer in an anthropological and sociological setting.
Kumina:
A Thematic Journey

I was not born as a part of the Bongo nation, I do not know how to
speak the Bongo man’s language nor have I ever played the drums,
but when I hear Kumina, when I assemble and enter the ritualistic
space where the drums take control of your heartbeat, your mind,
and body, at that moment I understand it. Not in terms of aesthetics
- the drumming pattern, the language or even the way they dance -
Instead, I understand what it represents, and what it represents goes
far beyond the things I’ve just mentioned.
The fabric of Kumina is made of many thematic threads. The under-
lying themes that drove Kumina are identical to those of other Black
Atlantic, Afro-Spiritual traditions. The difference is the way in which
the threads are woven, the various pattern they have from through-
out the history of the African diaspora. A thematic journey means
we are not vainly plagued by the nuances of specificity in regards to
the aesthetics and particularities in the execution of the practice. In-
stead, we are able to take into account the local nuances of Kumina
in regards to their relationship with specific themes which enable us
to connect other practices within the rest of the Black Atlantic.
The objective of this thematic journey is multifaceted. My aim is for
the reader to fundamentally understand each theme and its signifi-
cance. And by extension understand how the themes are instrumen-
tal in forming the structural backbone which represents the ontolog-
ical significance of Kumina within the Jamaican society.
Location
Dislocation
The theme of location and dislocation represents two sides of the same
coin in the context of the African diaspora. Our history in the Atlantic
is one that is deeply linked to a psychological and physical dislocation
of the mind and body respectively. This initiated a perpetual search, in
which the black man ceaselessly tries to locate himself in the world. Lo-
cation and dislocation are major components which act as an adhesive
for the fragmented Black Atlantic and is, therefore, a crucial element in
understanding cultural practices throughout the region.

Location/dislocation is also a fundamental ingredient in

shaping our musical sensibilities. Ernest Brown refers to this
phenomenon as ‘musical pan-Africanism’ – ‘a recognition
of the resonance in musical style and/or content among the
peoples of Africa and the African diaspora’ (Bilby, “Making
Modernity” 284). The concept of musical pan-Africanism is
one that we will be returning to throughout this publication.

Kumina was to become a medium through which both the Afro-Jamai-

cans and the Bongo people would be able to locate themselves. Before
this would be possible the significance behind the practice had to be
reconfigured/re-understood in order to fit the needs of its new commu-
nity, situated in a new world. For example, resistance might have not had
much importance when Kumina was being practiced in the Kongo but
when it was placed in the confines of a colonial socio-economic system
where there were immense hardships and degradation towards the black
community it evolved as an outlet for dissent.
 The nocturnal assemblies that were Kumina ceremonies were
freedom spaces, communal spaces set up throughout Colonial
Jamaica. The ceremonies required the participants to psycholog-
ically, mentally and aesthetically ritualized their bodies, their per-
sons to repossess themselves from their enslavers by performing
rituals which enabled their ancestors and gods to possess them
(to guide them, to communicate with them, instruct them).

This provided a practice through which the dislocated were

able to locate themselves by ontologically desecrating and
commercializing their bodies to ritually become gods, kings,
queens, sovereigns and free persons cultivating an ethos
which enables them to resist and to cope with postcolonial
racism and disenfranchisement (Hutton, “Forging Identity”
131).

Kumina clearly emerged as a medium through which ritualistic and

spiritually grounded spaces were established. These rituals and practices
provided a way for pre-independent Afro-Jamaicans to be linked with their
ancestral home - Africa. In other words, it was a way for them to psycho-
logically and spiritually locate themselves in Africa, locate themselves in an
identity that empowers and enrich them spiritually and existentially. More
importantly is the fact that this is a common theme and a common reac-
tion or antidote to the phenomenon of dislocation throughout the African
diaspora.
The Skin
& Musicking
The skin holds numerous symbol-
ic importance and meanings; from
the skin as a means of separating one
from the outside world and each other
to the color of one’s skin being at the
center of centuries of abuse and degra-
dation, then back to the striking of the
skin, both animal and man, as a way of
communicating to other bodies (in the
case of a drumming ritual) or as a tool
through which a slave master “com-
municate” with slaves.
The skin as it relates to race. The color
of one’s skin serves as a form of iden-
tity. But for people who belong to the
African diaspora, the skin represents
a shared history, a shared struggle - a
struggle that still continues to this day
- the blackness of our skin represents
a shared consciousness and acknowl-
edgment of our place in the world and
with the people in it. It is an inescapa-
ble reality for better or for worse. This
shared identity is one that played a ma-
jor role when the Bongo people first
migrated to Jamaica.
It was the dawn of emancipation, the
former slaves were now “free” people.
Free men and women whose culture
and sense of identity had been sub-
jected to centuries of dissolution. The
timing of the arrival of the Bongo peo-
ple could not have been better. It must
have provided a point of reference for
the now free Afro-Jamaicans, a point
from which they were able to infer a
past, a past they had no recollection
of, and a point from which they could
now navigate themselves into the fu-
ture from. This was made possible
due to a sort of kinship black people
throughout the world share - an un-
derstanding of our oneness, solidarity
in our fight to be comfortable in our
bodies, in our skin.
The beating and striking of the skin
exist within numerous narratives
throughout the history of the African
diaspora. From the striking of the black
skin to the beating of the drum by en-
slaved Africans. Beating and striking
permeate all areas of life for the Black
Atlantic people.
“If we are to believe ethnomusicologist
the body is not only that which beats
as in the case of “patting juba” but its
the site of aboriginal beating. The re-
flexivity that positions the body both
as subject and object of beating sug-
gest if only in a “grammatical” way,
that percussion comes to the body nei-
ther from outside nor from far away”
(Mowitt,18). The interplay of the skin
and its relationship with being beaten
fundamentally embodies the dualistic
function the skin served to the Kumina
people. A concept that fully manifests
itself through the idea of musicking.
“Musicking establishes in the place
where it is happening a set of relation-
ships, and it is in those relationships
that the meaning of the act lies. They
are to be found not only between those
organized sounds which are conven-
tionally thought of as being the stuff of
musical meaning but also between the
people who are taking part, in whatever
capacity, in the performance; relation-
ships between person and person, be-
tween individual and society, between
humanity and the natural world and
even perhaps the supernatural world”
(Small, 13).
This idea can be thoroughly under-
stood by looking at the concepts Mow-
itt presents in his exploration of the re-
lationship between bodies, space, and
sound. Mowitt looks at the fact that
the human ear has not adapted itself to
a sophisticated rational and, ultimately,
highly industrialized order as readily as
the eye, which has become accustomed
to conceiving reality as made up of sep-
arate things. Ordinary listening, com-
pared to seeing is more ancient and for
this reason, the acoustic perception
has preserved comparably more traits
of “long bygone, pre-individualistic
collectivities than optical perception”.
The intrinsic concept embedded in
this phenomenon is its connection to
the sensation of spatial depth and in-
clusiveness which results in the absorp-
tion of a sense of individuality (Mow-
itt, 48).
“The orchid deterritorializes by form-
ing an image, a tracing of a wasp; but
the wasp reterritorializes on that im-
age. The wasp is nevertheless deter-
ritorialized, becoming a piece in the
orchid’s reproductive apparatus. But
it reterritorializes the orchid by trans-
porting its pollen” (Deleuze and Guat-
tari). Can you tell the dancer from the
dance? Who is in control and who is
being controlled? Kumina sessions
epitomize this type of interplay. The
sessions create a space that when en-
tered transforms the individual, it
strips them of any sense of being an in-
dividual, it forms a complete organism
which functions as a whole, where no
part is more significant than the other.
The skin and musicking are no doubt
important patterns in the fabric of Ku-
mina, but most importantly these con-
cepts, or rather, lived realities are shared
across the Black Atlantic. It is impera-
tive to also note that the philosophical
praxis of Kumina evolved based on the
“demands” of its community or in oth-
er words it has been molded through
the process of social contextualization.
The skin and musicking are themes
that have and continue to shape and
inform the musical and cultural sensi-
bilities of the Black Atlantic.
Rebellion
Rebellion is somewhat synonymous
with black history throughout the
world. It is the common denomina-
tor linking the entire African diaspora.
Rebellion as a theme within the black
historic narrative is a complex behe-
mothic concept that would be impos-
sible to tackle as a whole. For the scope
of this publication, I will be looking
at rebellion as it relates to the idea of
musicking. In other words, how do
Kumina and the practice of musicking
facilitates and animates the theme of
rebellion in Jamaica and the rest of the
Black Atlantic.
The ritualistic practices that Kumina
affords had tremendous existential im-
portance to the Afro-Jamaicans. These
practices created spaces in which the
black community was able to counter-
balance colonial influences and locate
themselves in relation to their lineage.
I believe Hutton’s explanation offers
a vital contextual framing, though it
speaks of African spiritual practices
pre-Kumina the significance of this ac-
count still holds true for the later Ku-
mina practices on the island:
“Rituals of possession or rituals of own-
ership of Black people were at the heart
of White people’s agency for the main-
tenance of colonialism, rituals of re-
possession were central to the struggles
of the enslaved for freedom, sovereign-
ty and being. These sacred nocturnal
meetings were rituals of repossession
engendering a profoundly important
psycho-epistemic/psycho-ontological
weaving of personhood, of communi-
ty and of agency antithetical to enslave-
ment”.
“In the slave plantations of the Carib-
bean Africans existed in two worlds.
There was the world of the day; that
was the white world. There was the
world of the night, that was the African
world, of spirits and magic and the true
gods. And in that world ragged men,
humiliated by day, were transformed-
in their own eyes, and the eyes of their
fellows - into kings, sorcerers, herbal-
ists, men in touch with the true forces
of the earth and possessed of complete
power. A king of the night, .. the Afri-
can night word might appear a mimic
world, a child’s world, a carnival. But
to the African ..it was the true world:
it turned white men to phantoms and
plantation life to an illusion.” (Hut-
ton, “Forging Identity” 131-132)
Afro-Jamaican were deprived of
wealth, elite connection, and a sense
of social mobility. African spiritual-
ity offered routes through which they
fought racial, political and economic
oppression. Turning to spiritual prac-
tices exemplifies how Afro-Atlantic
communities addressed their social
and political problems. Several early
laws prohibited drumming, dancing
and other African expressions notwith-
standing its negative consequences are
additional reminders that a distinct
Afro-Jamaican cultural and religious
space threatened the colonial status
quo.
Preservation
& Its Place In
The Context of
Kumina
The importance of embarking on a
thematic journey of Kumina was not
to just list and speak on the various the-
matic elements that Kumina consists
of. It was a process through which I
was able to understand the motives that
drove Kumina. A process that allowed
me to look beyond the aesthetic and
physical aspect of the practice, whether
it by the drumming pattern or the lan-
guage spoken. In other words, it helped
me to uncover some of the fundamen-
tal aspects of what Kumina represent-
ed and still represents today. Through
this understanding, it becomes much
easier to tackle the question of how
to go about preserving the practice.
As someone who is originally from Ja-
maica and of a generation that marks
the decline of the old and the ascent
of the new, I can say that I under-
stand the place of the new; the place
of the sound system, reggae, dance-
hall. However, this mindstate ex-
ists as a duality, one in which the old
and the new are both able to coexist.
Kumina existed as a medium to serve
the needs of a community, a com-
munity whose people and needs have
changed since its introduction. My
views on preservation are one that
must take into account the context in
which the practice being preserved ex-
isted in, the role it played in that socie-
ty and the underlying themes and mo-
tives that drove its propagation. With
this foundation, I believe preserva-
tion in the context of this publication
and by extension, the practical aspect
of the brief is best represented by the
term Praxervation. Praxervation can
be thought of as preservation coupled
with the idea of praxis. It is a self-updat-
ing system that continuously responds
to changes and development happen-
ing within a given cultural network
by referencing the mechanisms em-
ployed within the past cultural tradi-
tion in order to develop new practices.
Although the term praxervation was
never formally mentioned prior to
this publication it is a concept that
has been explored in other academ-
ic works. For example, Kenneth Bil-
by’s Making modernity in the hinter-
lands is a wonderful paper that clearly
speaks on and embodies a great deal
of the ideas embodied in the concept
of Praxervation. In particular, Bilby
examines some of the implications
of having a shared thematic history and
how the concept of musical pan-African-
ism acts as a mechanism through which
one can reference from in order to tackle
contemporary social/cultural problems.
This can clearly be seen from Bilby’s
conversation with Wailing Roots - a ma-
roon/reggae band from French Guiana:
“On a recent cassette release, Oudou
Loutou includes a song called ‘Regae’
[sic], backed by a new style of Maroon
drumming created by stripping the reg-
gae ‘beat’ down to its rhythmic essen-
tials; this new reggae-inflected Maroon
rhythm, played on the aleke drums, re-
sembles nothing so much as the tradition-
al nyabinghi rhythm of Jamaican Ras-
tafarians, which itself was an important
influence in the original development of
reggae during the 1960s...Both Maroon
reggae bands such as Wailing Roots and
neo-traditional aleke bands such as Ou-
dou Loutou have discovered that the
communicative potential of this import-
ed pan-African/Caribbean musical style
can be as fine-tuned to local realities, or as
broadly calibrated to diasporic concerns,
as need be” (Bilby, “Modernity” 276).
An even more direct thread can be seen by

looking at the transition from Kumina
sessions into a new emerging ontologi-
cal musicking space which embodies the
old but acknowledges and seeks to co-
exist with the new. Hutton description
of the sound system culture and its im-
pact paints a clearer picture of this idea:
“thousands of Jamaicans constantly
journeyed into ritualized dance spac-
es, to participate in a community of
movement to sound, engendering and
languaging a common national emo-
tional, psychological, aesthetic ethos,
transcending the epistemology and
ontology of coloniality and its pow-
er to alienate subjected peoples from
themselves, from their physicality and
metaphysicality, from the sovereignty
of their imagination, from their lin-
eality. The sound system movement
seemed to be drawing on the crea-
tive/aesthetic traditions developed
by the enslaved to forge a popular
national aesthetic modernism as Ja-
maica moved towards independence
in 1962” (Hutton, “Creative” 19)
Both examples represent how prax-
ervation can manifest and be utilized
within the African diaspora. What I
believe this re-interpretation of preser-
vation does is to help move us away or
beyond the surface glow of nostalgia or
aesthetic preferences. It places us inside
the internal structure, inside the en-
gine that drives the machine. Through
this sort of mechanical comprehension
of the practice, one is removed from
the role of a spectator and is instead
placed in the seat of the operator, the
facilitator, the creative director. Make
no mistake in thinking this a hierarchi-
cal role with only one driver, for it is
in actuality very rhizomatic in nature.
Implementation
Though there are numerous ap-
proaches a designer could take to test
or implement this theory, we will only
be looking at one - The MFLS. The
Musical Feedback Loop System is one
possible way the concept of praxerva-
tion can manifest itself. The MFLS is
a combination of electronic transmis-
sions of pulsations and rhythms which
is, in fact, a transatlantic conversation
between people of color across the Af-
rican diaspora. The primary aim of this
system is to highlight the role praxer-
vation could play in a contemporary
cultural framework, while also embod-
ying the notion of the past and present
coexisting.
The MFLS acts as a blueprint for these
rhythmic exchanges/conversations. Al-
though the system is designed using
Kumina as a case study it can be ap-
plied to almost any cultural practice
with minor tweaks.
M.F.L.S

1. The idea of an ‘Act’ is used to represent

an audio-based element(s) that that is
4. However, it is possible for
added to the system in response to what
was added before. Another way to think Acts 1 & 2 to get stuck in
of this is to refer back to the fact that a loop. If there is any con-
this is a transatlantic conversation be- fusion in what is being
ing had through sounds/rhythms/fre- said bewteen the two Acts.
quencies. So an Act consists of all the
elements that an individual(s) feel rele-
vant as a response to what came before.

2. The core or starting point (Act 1) 5. If

is established and acts as an initia-
tor and ‘base’. The importance of the
base is that it helps to retain the essen-
tial signifier of the music in this case,
though it could be other practices.
all is well then 1 will be re-
sponsible for progressing the
piece throught the system to
Act 3. and while Act 2 will be
progressing it to 4 & so on.

3. After Act 2 has composed her response

it is then sent back to Act 1. The rea-
son for this is so that the previous Act
(Act 1) is allowed to check that the es-
sence of what he had intended is still
present after the response by Act 2.
6. Thiscan obviously continue
indefinitely although I see no
reason it would or should.
Design,
Research
& Reflection

Design + Preservation
I believe that design can, in fact, play
a crucial role in an anthropological
and sociological environment. With-
in the scope of this brief, the role of
the designer sits at the center of the
aforementioned concept of praxerva-
tion as a theoretical concept and its
physical implementation in the word.

The designer’s role is in no way stat-

ic, it is rather dynamic and activating.
The activating aspect is in fact, the
most critical and underlying aspect
of the designer’s place in this con-
text. His place is primarily one that
enables - it activates the idea of prax-
ervation in the real world, by design-
ing systems and toolkits that allow
for the accessibility to useful cultur-
al-practice and methodologies and by
providing the mediums or platforms
through which they can be realized.
Reflection
Prior to the beginning of this project, I
knew that Kumina was a cultural prac-
tice that was somewhat exclusive. The
people I spoke to who are current prac-
titioners of Kumina - both in Jamaica
and in London - presented it as a prac-
tice with very high walls with a pinhole
view access. They explained to me that
Kumina was sacred and should not be
tampered with - that it should remain in
a pure state. This presented a paradox.
The world has changed, both Jamaica
and its soundscape has also changed
so how then can Kumina exist in a
pure state and also thrive? The idea of
“pure” was even more perplexing, for
based on the many interviews and pa-
pers I’ve read it has never been “pure”
it has never been a static thing. Yes, the
change has been slow, so slow that to
a generation it might seem unchanged,
even pure. But Kumina has always
been changing, from the second it ar-
rived in Jamaica, from the minute it
had to exist in an “impure” environ-
ment, an environment that was not
exclusively made up of Bongo peo-
ple but had many people, from many
different parts of the world, in that
very moment the pureness they speak
about was swept away with the sands
on the very beach they landed on.
This project has been about reconcil-
ing the differences between many mov-
ing parts. From the themes explored in
the publication, to the interest of the
people I met with while visiting Jamai-
ca and also my personal interests and
motives for undertaking the project.
The end result of all that work is nothing
less than beautiful and amazing for me per-
sonally but to also be able to witness the
happiness and emotion people expressed
while and after listening to the sound
piece showed me how much it also means
to other people as well. The project, both
the research and practical aspect has been
entirely about people. It was even created
by people of different background who has
a shared history and a shared sensibility.
Being able to bring these people together
for the purpose of Kumina and its preser-
vation and have something so brilliant in
the end proves to me that even if the ques-
tion of preservation wasn’t completely an-
swered it was at least a fullhearted attempt
that has made more than just a dent.
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University Press (CUP), doi:10.1017/s0261143000000179.

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