This is one of two films by Montgomery and Vannier, each dealing with separate aspects of Ewe Gorovodu religious life (see also their African Herbsman, Reference Montgomery and Vannier2012). In both, there seems to be a creative tension between two time-honored and much debated aspects of ethnographic visual documentation, finding the proper balance between “the need for long, uninterrupted takes of interactive behavior” and the need to tell a story that encapsulates some kind of ethnographic whole (Balikci Reference Balikci2009: 384).
Chasing the Spirit relies on a more diachronic approach, given the nature of the ceremonies being filmed, each of which requires “time on screen,” as it were, for events and performances to unfold. In this sense the film walks a kind of ethnographic line between art and description (explored recently in Schäuble Reference Schäuble2015). Although the film does not privilege long, unbroken camera shots—it does employ standard editing and some temporal overlays—it devotes more time to being visually “embedded” into several ceremonial contexts. Its visual style eschews the journalistic, and interviews and discussion take a back seat to drumming, dance, and chant. The soundtrack is centered around the multilayered textures of brekete drumming, as well as the male and female unison singing characteristic of this littoral West African region bordering the Bight of Benin. Much of this is non-diegetic; that is, outside the context of specific events, and although the film is not ethnomusicological per se, the overall multisensory effect of ensemble drumming and group vocals underscores the cognitive importance of sonic performance to the cultural milieu overall.
Still, there are seemingly anachronistic appearances in the film, such as when the earth goddess Sakpata, a vodu, or guardian spirit, appears as a raffia-enshrouded figure protectively meandering through the alleyways of the fictionalized Gbedala village, joined by a boisterous escort of shekere gourd and gangkogui or atoke bell players singing her praises. Bobbing and whirling in a dance with her handlers, the sheer visuality of this scene, intended to oversee the safety and health of the village inhabitants, is momentarily at odds with the explanatory narrative and on-screen text. We realize, however, that her appearance serves as a segue between the introductory scenes of everyday coastal village life and the ritual performances that are about to occur in the film. Sakpata's appearance leads us into the film, including the introduction of Sofo Bisi, the key Gorovodu religious leader, intimations of the medicinal and psychological importance of Gorovodu practices, the portrayal of spiritual spaces and activities, and the enactment of two key events in the life of the village: the annual Fetatrotro ceremony, marking the turning of the year, and Salah, a Muslim prayer ceremony.
Chasing the Spirit is chaptered into five parts: the Village of Gbedala in Southern Togo, The Shrine, the Fetatrotro Ceremony, the Salah Ceremony, and a Conclusion. The first part provides a picture of this fishing settlement and its surroundings near the capital of Lomé. Transitioning with Sakpata's visit, we then meet Sofo Bisi (also featured in African Herbsman), a man with extensive knowledge of the healing, protective, and spiritual power of the natural world (Vannier and Montgomery Reference Vannier and Montgomery2015). Through him we gain an intimate view of Gorovodu shrines in private homes and a sacred forest grove, or zogbe, and visual representations of the gods and goddesses that comprise its religious pantheon. The body of the film, however, portrays the regenerative Fetatrotro ceremony and the Muslim-influenced Salah prayer ceremony, which connects Gorovodu to religious practices of the northern interior (see Friedson Reference Friedson2009).
Fetatrotro celebrates the changing of the year and involves the sacrifice of various animals according to the wishes of the vodus. The animals are offered by a group of men designated as hunters, surrounded by a large group of drummers, who rhythmically support the groups of men, and women constituting two separate choruses, who sing in unison or in call and response patterns as they dance to honor the collective group of Gorovodu priests invited from surrounding villages, with Sofo Bisi acting as the ritual's host. This is a time when the vodu spirits possess many of the participants, especially the women, who spin, gesticulate, call out, and act out the personalities of the vodu who have entered their being. Gunpowder is ignited on some of their hands, and ignited before the visiting religious figures as well. As video, the camera moves within the large open-sided enclosure built for the occasion, following individuals and groups of dancers as they come before the visiting dignitaries. One is conscious as a viewer and listener that the camera and microphone cannot completely capture all of this dense sensory richness—what is occurring just out of view? What is being sung on the other side of the ritual space, tantalizingly out of range of the audio? As visual ethnography these elements of the film bring to mind questions concerning the realities of documenting lived experience, chasing a reality that comprises many affectivities at once.
The Salah ceremony is based around a collective prayer to Allah, and concludes with traditional Ewe praise songs to the vodus, culminating in an Ilahi chorus. We witness an exquisite unison chant sung by prostrate women clothed and covered in full white dress reminiscent of traditional Saharan or Hausa attire. This is a song to Nana Wango, or grandmother crocodile, in which the call and response invocation “wango … wango” is gently repeated, carrying the honoring melody, rising and falling in a descending conclusion of praise. The ceremony itself concludes with a rhythmic and syncopated “La ilahi illallah la illah illallah,” with each phrase marked by pronounced triplet clapping, and eventually the scene moves into rapid brekete drum rhythms to accompany the fast-paced unison singing of the women, many of them engaged in trance behavior guided protectively by a cadre of senteruas, or designated guardians.
The Conclusion departs from the intensity of the ritual trance of the two ceremonies, and gives us a relaxed return to the beach scenes of the opening sequences. A group of carpenters put the finishing touches of woodwork on a new boat, boys kick around a soccer ball on the water's edge, and some young men—Montgomery among them—do the same, creating a makeshift pitch for a football game in the sand. The bricolage, or pickup of everyday life returns.
A high degree of collaboration and familiarity with the community is evident in Montgomery and Vannier's work. Chasing the Spirit reveals interconnected aspects of a rich and complex network of social relationships, spiritual enactments, and musical encounters. Although the camera and audio handlers are not specifically mentioned in the credits, Montgomery himself serves as a subject in many scenes, making offerings at Gorovodu shrines, notetaking, and participating in daily activities. I found this breaking of the frame encouraging in lending both ethnographic authenticity and a sense of affective involvement with the stories and actors portrayed in each film. The involvement of the filmmakers, one in front of and the other behind the camera, allows us to participate as well.
