incorporating bata drums in secular settings

This is in continuation of the "ISLA BATA DRUM" thread in CongaSet and accessories:
There are several different perspectives on what is religious and what is fixed about the bata tradition and what isn't.
The basic agreement is that consecrated tambores de fundamento cannot be touched by people who are not initiated to Anyá, or have at least their "hands washed".
However, I know about at least two cases where this rule was broken, meaning that uninitiated drummers were encouraged to play a consecrated bata drum by an elder alanya (owner of a set of fundamento drums).
A drum like the Isla from the Ebay auction is not consecrated; it can never receive fundamento status, because certain features, like the metal hardware for instance, prohibit this. An un-consecrated bata drum is called aberikula. An aberikula drum is basically of the same status as a conga drum, or a bongo, or a snare drum; you can play a guaracha, a waltz or a shimmy on it, if you want; or you can use it as a table, a lamp, or a waste paper basket, if you are hard-boiled enough. Some conga drummers incorporate a single bata drum (mostly the iyá, the biggest) in their set-up, like Jerry Gonzalez (and yours truly, on occasion). In a Guarapachangeo style Rumba outfit, the batá have become a standard element, alongside conga drums and cajones. There are many examples for the use of the bata drums outside a religious setting (all aberikula, to my knowledge).
The critical point, however, is the fact that all those drummers who are playing the batá in a non-religious context have at least a basic knowledge of the traditional toques batá and an idea of the spiritual and historical importance that these drums embody. People like Papo Angarica or Octavio Rodriguez, on the other hand, are long past that; both of them own several sets of fundamentos, and moreover, both are renowned babalawos (high priests of Ifá).
Felix Navarro from Santiago (formerly of the Cutumba group) once put it like "although aberikula drums are not sacred, the toques and the cantos are sacred indeed". Arturo Martinez (of the Clave y Guaguancó ensemble) advised me to always rest my aberikula batá on the chairs (as opposed to the floor), as if the morphology of these drums already demanded a basic, Anyá-derived protocol. Orlando Fiol claimed that neither cantos nor toques were sacred, unless an Orisha would be entering a ceremony (in trance possession); before that, they were just liturgical music, like Christian church music. In fact, you can buy a lot of Lukumí music on records today, just the same as Christian gospel or choir music, or oratories and masses.
My personal attitude in this wide range of opinions, perspectives, and dogmas has gained shape on the way, although the new information did not change my original outset a lot. Whenever I perform a religious song or rhythm, I am always aware of its spiritual or ceremonial content. Always! This prevents me from inappropriate use of the repertoire at times or places where it doesn't belong. I knew from the start that I wanted to know as much as possible about the drumming, the rhythms, and about the religious background of the batá. But everybody has to start somewhere. So I listened a lot to recordings and read about Yoruba religion before I could afford my set of batá. By the time I bought my batá set, my knowledge was still close to zero point five. But I felt attracted to the whole world of the batá, and I have been studying their music for many years to come, I am still studying. It was like a call.
So, CongaTick, I don't think you have to know everything before you pick up the batá; you won't learn a lot unless you are inside practice, and with the respect you are showing, you have the best preconditions to get things right. If you feel the time has come for the batá, make it easy for yourself and don't get bogged down before you have begun. The material is difficult enough.
One last anecdote. In the Latin Jazz band in which I was playing (until last Tuesday, by the way), I was asked to play the big iyá batá drum for a tune. I found out that the rhythm for Orunmila would fit perfectly for that number. When I went home, I didn't feel too well about it. The next time I asked our band leader whether he wouldn't like to give the (unnamed) tune a title that would at least allude to this Orisha. He refused harshly, adding that he had nothing like that in mind, that he would give jacksh.. on religion on the whole, etc. I did not respond anything, but decided quietly to just improvise some BS on the iyá for him; if he esteemed any sort of artistic freedom ("jazz") over the sacred tradition of the batá, he should just get what he deserved. Hey, even Jesús Pérez is reported to have jammed on the batá!
TA
There are several different perspectives on what is religious and what is fixed about the bata tradition and what isn't.
The basic agreement is that consecrated tambores de fundamento cannot be touched by people who are not initiated to Anyá, or have at least their "hands washed".
However, I know about at least two cases where this rule was broken, meaning that uninitiated drummers were encouraged to play a consecrated bata drum by an elder alanya (owner of a set of fundamento drums).
A drum like the Isla from the Ebay auction is not consecrated; it can never receive fundamento status, because certain features, like the metal hardware for instance, prohibit this. An un-consecrated bata drum is called aberikula. An aberikula drum is basically of the same status as a conga drum, or a bongo, or a snare drum; you can play a guaracha, a waltz or a shimmy on it, if you want; or you can use it as a table, a lamp, or a waste paper basket, if you are hard-boiled enough. Some conga drummers incorporate a single bata drum (mostly the iyá, the biggest) in their set-up, like Jerry Gonzalez (and yours truly, on occasion). In a Guarapachangeo style Rumba outfit, the batá have become a standard element, alongside conga drums and cajones. There are many examples for the use of the bata drums outside a religious setting (all aberikula, to my knowledge).
The critical point, however, is the fact that all those drummers who are playing the batá in a non-religious context have at least a basic knowledge of the traditional toques batá and an idea of the spiritual and historical importance that these drums embody. People like Papo Angarica or Octavio Rodriguez, on the other hand, are long past that; both of them own several sets of fundamentos, and moreover, both are renowned babalawos (high priests of Ifá).
Felix Navarro from Santiago (formerly of the Cutumba group) once put it like "although aberikula drums are not sacred, the toques and the cantos are sacred indeed". Arturo Martinez (of the Clave y Guaguancó ensemble) advised me to always rest my aberikula batá on the chairs (as opposed to the floor), as if the morphology of these drums already demanded a basic, Anyá-derived protocol. Orlando Fiol claimed that neither cantos nor toques were sacred, unless an Orisha would be entering a ceremony (in trance possession); before that, they were just liturgical music, like Christian church music. In fact, you can buy a lot of Lukumí music on records today, just the same as Christian gospel or choir music, or oratories and masses.
My personal attitude in this wide range of opinions, perspectives, and dogmas has gained shape on the way, although the new information did not change my original outset a lot. Whenever I perform a religious song or rhythm, I am always aware of its spiritual or ceremonial content. Always! This prevents me from inappropriate use of the repertoire at times or places where it doesn't belong. I knew from the start that I wanted to know as much as possible about the drumming, the rhythms, and about the religious background of the batá. But everybody has to start somewhere. So I listened a lot to recordings and read about Yoruba religion before I could afford my set of batá. By the time I bought my batá set, my knowledge was still close to zero point five. But I felt attracted to the whole world of the batá, and I have been studying their music for many years to come, I am still studying. It was like a call.
So, CongaTick, I don't think you have to know everything before you pick up the batá; you won't learn a lot unless you are inside practice, and with the respect you are showing, you have the best preconditions to get things right. If you feel the time has come for the batá, make it easy for yourself and don't get bogged down before you have begun. The material is difficult enough.
One last anecdote. In the Latin Jazz band in which I was playing (until last Tuesday, by the way), I was asked to play the big iyá batá drum for a tune. I found out that the rhythm for Orunmila would fit perfectly for that number. When I went home, I didn't feel too well about it. The next time I asked our band leader whether he wouldn't like to give the (unnamed) tune a title that would at least allude to this Orisha. He refused harshly, adding that he had nothing like that in mind, that he would give jacksh.. on religion on the whole, etc. I did not respond anything, but decided quietly to just improvise some BS on the iyá for him; if he esteemed any sort of artistic freedom ("jazz") over the sacred tradition of the batá, he should just get what he deserved. Hey, even Jesús Pérez is reported to have jammed on the batá!
TA