Peircean Semiotic Theory

When discussing semiotic theory, clarification is needed as to precisely which branch of semiotics is referenced. Confusingly, two unrelated forms of semiotic theory arose in the nineteenth century, and both have maintained a foothold in the fields of archaeology and anthropology. The first came courtesy of the Swiss linguist Ferdinand de Saussure, who established the field of semiology (sémiologie), “a science that studies the life of signs within society” (Saussure Reference Saussure, Bally, Sechehaye and Baskin1966:16 [1916]). The second was developed independently by the American polymath Charles Sanders Peirce, which he dubbed “a science of semeiotic” (Peirce Reference Peirce1998:482). The Peircean model presents a sweeping phenomenological approach that is rooted in categories of signs, which is conducive to anthropological interpretation. Preucel (Reference Preucel2006:3–4) highlighted the inadequacies of the Saussurian model for adducing meaning from material culture and strongly encouraged archaeologists to embrace a Peircean semiotic approach instead.

In Peirce's (Reference Peirce1992 [1894]) taxonomy of sign-forms there are three predominant modes of signs: icon, index, and symbol. These classes of signs overlap and are not mutually exclusive. A single sign, for example, might be an icon, a symbol, and an index simultaneously (Chandler Reference Chandler2002:43). Icons function by resembling that which is represented. Indices refer to their object via a relationship in time and space. Symbols are arbitrary; they refer to their object by means of convention, such as flags or traffic lights. To illustrate, an icon of a mouse would be a drawing meant to resemble a mouse. A symbol of mouse would be the word “mouse.” An index of a mouse would be the “Eek!” sound emitted by a person startled by seeing one. An indexical sign reflects a causal relationship, one of indication, such as smoke for fire, or a broad smile indicating someone is happy. It is the index, as a sign type, with which we are most concerned throughout this paper.

The application of Peircean semiotics to the interpretation of archaeological materials is a fairly recent phenomenon, but it has proven effective and enlightening (Hutson et al. Reference Hutson, Magnoni and Stanton2012; Preucel Reference Preucel2006; Preucel and Bauer Reference Preucel and Bauer2001). Carballo (Reference Carballo, Carballo and Levine2014:197) highlights the utility of semiotics in archaeology but notes that the notion of indices is “particularly valuable for studying ritual as a form of differential communication saturated with signs and generated through performance.” In Mesoamerica generally and among the Maya specifically, the body itself “is a key symbol and a transmitter of social information through its artistic depiction, spatial positioning, and metaphorical reference” (Palka Reference Palka2002:420). Such culturally specific metaphors have the power to shape the way individuals experience the world in very real ways (Lakoff and Johnson Reference Lakoff and Johnson1980). Maya art often uses a “non-verbal vocabulary of gesture” that enables emotions and attitudes to be expressed without words (Eisner Reference Eisner1990:100). Although some elements of this gestural vocabulary transcend cultural barriers, others appear to be specific to the Classic Maya (Wichmann and Nielsen Reference Wichmann, Nielsen and Cohn2016:301).

Comparatively few archaeologists have embraced semiotic interpretations, which Hutson and colleagues (Reference Hutson, Magnoni and Stanton2012:298) suggest may be due to wariness in the field of what may seem like yet another jargon-filled theoretical trend (see also Chippindale Reference Chippindale, Yoffee and Sherratt1993). We echo the authors’ assertion that semiotic theory is neither a passing trend nor an uneasy fit between “exotic theory and local data” (Hutson et al. Reference Hutson, Magnoni and Stanton2012:298), but rather a powerful and broadly applicable interpretive tool.

Although the artistic conventions surrounding Classic Maya dance may serve as indexical markers of the context in which a particular scene was produced (Looper Reference Looper2009:104), the nature of signs is polysemous–they may point to more than one meaning at a time. Our particular focus on indexicality follows the lead of a handful of Mesoamerican scholars. To highlight just a few, Hutson et al. (Reference Hutson, Magnoni and Stanton2012:207) interpret sacbes in the Yucatan as indices of inclusion by virtue of the physical connectedness they create between center and periphery. Baron's (Reference Baron2016) recent book explores, among other things, the indexical linkages between patron gods and local identity formation. Hendon (Reference Hendon2009:224–225) argues that the hachas and yokes curated in a noble home at Late Classic Copan (Group 9N-8 Patio A) served as indexical markers of “foreignness,” even if those who donned them were in fact local and only assumed a “foreign” identity for ritual purposes. Hendon and coauthors (Reference Hendon, Joyce and Lopiparo2014:47) explore the iconic aspects of animal figures that commonly appear on polychrome vessels in the Ulúa Valley, which also served as indexical markers of local identities when preferences for specific animals arose in different subregions; furthermore, they note that the general uniformity of Ulúa Polychromes served to index the shared knowledge of a larger cultural tradition (Hendon et al. Reference Hendon, Joyce and Lopiparo2014). Joyce's (Reference Joyce, Orr and Looper2014:17) semiotic analysis of the Playa de los Muertos figurines from Middle Formative Honduras suggests the twined and woven textiles represented on the figurines “would have indexically invoked assessments of the skill and labor required to make objects such as fine plain-weave cloth and complex twined textiles.”

Laban Movement Analysis

Rudolf Laban (1879–1958) developed his theories and descriptive systems of movement out of an express desire to help spectators not only understand but truly experience the same emotional state as the performers they observe (Burton et al. Reference Burton, Samadini, Gorbet, Kulic, Laumond and Abe2016:28; Laban Reference Laban1972). His system enables a close reading of the posture, gesture, and movement vocabularies of the human body. Bartenieff and Lewis (Reference Bartenieff and Lewis1980:16) suggested three ways in which Laban analysis could be used: the study of “body structure and morphology;” the pathways and “spatial tension” of movements; and the study of EffortFootnote ¹, which refers to the postural attitudes of an individual “in relation to space, weight, time, and flow.” Each of the Effort elements are defined diametrically: Space Effort is either Direct or Indirect, Weight Effort is Strong or Light, Time Effort can be Sudden or Sustained, and Flow Effort is either Free or Bound. In Laban's calculus, when two of these Effort factors are combined they constitute a state Footnote ². When three of the Effort factors combine, they constitute a drive Footnote ³.

It is the Effort qualities that are of particular interest to this study. Bartenieff and Lewis (Reference Bartenieff and Lewis1980:59) note that “a variety of inner states can be described in the movement manifestations of two Effort combinations.” That is, the states and drives of LMA, by design, reveal inner emotional states. For example, there is little difference in the qualities of Space and Time between someone violently punching their hand forward vs. lightly “fist bumping” a friend—each is of the same duration and moves in the same direction—but the Effort quality of the two motions is dramatically different. One is Strong, the other Light. The former might register as an expression of anger or frustration, but the latter is understood to be a friendly affirmation or greeting. We argue that such Effort qualities can be detected in Classic period depictions of dance.

Anthropological studies of dance have generally examined movement, posture, and gesture as icons (Downey Reference Downey2005; Ness Reference Ness, Thomas and Ahmed2004; Srinivasan Reference Srinivasan2007). Among the Maya, for example, scholars have suggested that dances are mimetic in that they replicate “the sway of maize” (Looper Reference Looper1991:54), the “motions of animals” (Houston et al. Reference Houston, Stuart and Taube2006:255), or the flight of birds (Taube Reference Taube, Le Fort, Gardiol, Matteo and Helmke2009:46). Although proper identification of the iconic mode of these dances is crucial to our interpretations, the study of other types of sign making in dance processes can amplify our overall understanding of them (Lemos Reference Lemos2012). Ness (Reference Ness1992) pioneered the application of Peircean semiotic theory to the field of dance ethnography. She found that semiotic indices pointed to “something else also present or evident in the performance context” (Ness Reference Ness, Noland and Ann Ness2008:8), which might include signs of trance (indexed by shaking, shivering, eye rolling), or a drunk person's weaving walk—an index of the fact that the person is inebriated. Not only is dance representative, it is also indicative.

We are mindful of the objections that may be raised in our effort to adduce meaning from idealized, static, two-dimensional images of dance produced by artists who are far removed from us temporally and culturally (see Looper Reference Looper2009:103–106). Complicating the matter further, we lack provenience for a large percentage of these Classic period ceramics because they were wrested from their original context by looters, leaving us to cobble together clues from disparate datasets (Reents-Budet Reference Reents-Budet1998:82). Art historians caution that there may be a disconnect between the intended meaning as expressed by a particular performer and the message as conveyed by the artist depicting the performance, and yet another disconnect between the artist's depiction and meaning ascribed by observers who view artwork through different cultural lenses (Gombrich Reference Gombrich1999:272). Although this certainly holds true for us in our examination of ancient Maya art, such divisions between performer, artist, and viewer may have been less pronounced in their original context. Late Classic polychrome ceramics were indisputably elite objects: elite artists depicted elite performers on vessels created exclusively for elite consumption (Reents-Budet Reference Reents-Budet1998:78; Rice Reference Rice2009; see also Wichmann and Nielsen Reference Wichmann, Nielsen and Cohn2016:307). Hidden from the gaze of the commoners, these relatively small works would have required close proximity for interpretation (see Joyce Reference Joyce, Orr and Looper2014:74), much like the scenes of dance carved into the panels and lintels in the walls of temples and palaces, with access limited to elites.

Concerning our ability to detect emotional states from ancient works of art, Houston (Reference Houston2001:207) noted that Classic Maya depictions of the body are “unusually expressive, with a degree of verisimilitude or ‘naturalism’ that is deceptively transparent to Western gaze.” He pointed to the detailed depictions of both facial expressions and bodily postures that convey nuanced emotional states such as torment, fear, despair, lust, and grief. Although there were unquestionably distinctive beliefs and practices between, and even within, different Classic period polities, there appears to have been something of a “codification of bodily movement and position” across the Lowlands that provided the Classic Maya with a “shared, connective communicative identity (perhaps even representing a concept of elite practice), while simultaneously emphasizing difference and inequality between individuals” (Jackson Reference Jackson2009:75–76). In sum, the messages Maya elites hoped to convey through their postural attitudes, both actual and those idealized in their artwork, likely came through loud and clear to their intended audiences.

Emotional states are easily identified when there is congruence between an individual's facial expression, body language, and voice, but surprisingly, recent studies have revealed that the body alone is capable of conveying certain human emotions to virtually the same degree as isolated facial or vocal expressions (Coulson Reference Coulson2004; de Gelder Reference de Gelder2009). This holds true even in static images with limited vantage points (Coulson Reference Coulson2004:132), or when postural attitudes are conveyed by faceless humanoid avatars (Kleinsmith et al. Reference Kleinsmith, Bianchi-Berthouze and Steed2011). On that note, LMA has rather unexpectedly been thrust into the twenty-first century by STEM fields (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) in their quest to imbue human-like attributes into everything from video game avatars to artificially intelligent robots (Burton et al. Reference Burton, Samadini, Gorbet, Kulic, Laumond and Abe2016; Chi et al. Reference Chi, Costa, Zhao and Badler2000; Zacharatos et al. Reference Zacharatos, Gatzoulis and Chrysanthou2014).

Accurate identification of emotional states communicated via physical expressions, be they human, robot, or computer-generated humanoid avatar, is further enhanced when the viewer understands the context in which the expression in question is elicited (Carroll and Russell Reference Carroll and Russell1996; Zhang and Sharkey Reference Zhang, Sharkey, Groß, Alboul, Melhuish, Witkowski, Prescott and Penders2011; see also Gombrich Reference Gombrich1982; Lakoff and Johnson Reference Lakoff and Johnson1980). There are, of course, both similarities and differences in the meanings associated with distinct bodily posture (Kleinsmith et al. Reference Kleinsmith, Ravindra De Silva and Bianchi-Berthouze2006), but intracultural identification of certain emotional states based on an individual's posture is quite consistent (Elfenbein and Ambady Reference Elfenbein and Ambady2003), so much so that, in what may sound to some like the seeds of a dystopian future, artificially intelligent robots are being programmed with LMA “to create reciprocal interactive behaviors that appear natural and are not restricted to simple imitation” (Lourens et al. Reference Lourens, Van Berkel and Barakova2010:1263; see also McColl et al. Reference McColl, Hong, Hatakeyama, Nejat and Benhabib2016).

Although most of this type of research involving LMA is being driven by future-oriented fields, many of their findings are equally applicable to ancient Maya art. Combined with our emerging understanding of the consistency of elite messaging practices during the Classic period, we feel confident that LMA is an appropriate, if not optimal, tool for interpreting the idealized two-dimensional static depictions of Maya dance.

Classic Maya Dance

Dancing was one of the most common rituals performed by Classic Maya rulers throughout their reigns. Grube (Reference Grube1992) was the first to translate the T516 glyph as ‘to dance.’ Phonetically, the glyph is read as ahk'ot and may be semantically related to the term for “give,” ahk’ (Macri and Looper Reference Macri and Looper2003:206). Ahk’ also serves as the root for yahk'a(w), “he/she gives (it),” which is used in the context of offerings made to the gods (Looper Reference Looper2009:17). In essence, the dances may be seen as offerings or tributes to the gods, and dance continues to be an acceptable form of prayer among traditional Mesoamerican communities (Houston Reference Houston, Inomata and Coben2006:144; Looper Reference Looper2009:18).

Dances were associated with a wide variety of events: deity impersonation rituals, sacrifices, heir designation and other dynastic events, warfare, and visits by overlords (Looper Reference Looper2009:5). Dances and public spectacles need not be seen as purely religious events, as they also served sociopolitical functions in legitimizing the power of a ruler (Houston Reference Houston, Inomata and Coben2006; Looper Reference Looper2009:5; Schele and Miller Reference Schele and Miller1986). As Sahagún (1950–Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1982 [1575–1578]:8:150) noted, among the Aztec, dancing was one of the primary responsibilities of the ruler and was done “in order to hearten and console all the peers, the noblemen, the lords, the brave warriors, and all the common folk and vassals.” Among the Classic Maya, public ceremonies were sometimes marked with the glyphic expression cha'nil (literally, “something being watched”; Tokovinine Reference Tokovinine2003:3). The expression occasionally occurs in conjunction with glyphic references to dance, which suggests that certain royal dances were intended to be performed in front of an audience (Looper Reference Looper2009:18; Tokovinine Reference Tokovinine2003).

One of the earliest iconographic depictions of dance in the Maya area comes from the San Bartolo west wall mural (ca. 100 BC). The Maize God dances inside the quatrefoil carapace of the earth turtle while tapping his turtle shell drum pectoral in preparation for his resurrection (Taube et al. Reference Taube, Saturno, Stuart and Hurst2010: Figure 46). Curiously, over seven centuries pass before the first known textual reference to dance occurs. The earliest use of the dance glyph, found on Altar L at Quirigua, dates to AD 653 (Looper Reference Looper1991:91). Other early references (AD 668–733) come from Dos Pilas, Naranjo, Piedras Negras, and La Corona. From AD 752–780, most dance references are limited to the Yaxchilan region. After about AD 780, glyphic references to dance are found scattered throughout the Maya area (Looper Reference Looper2009:18).

Proskouriakoff was the first to propose that the raised-heel motif was indicative of formal scenes of dance, noting that the dancers’ motions always appeared “restrained” (Reference Proskouriakoff1950:28). Building on Proskouriakoff, Miller (Reference Miller1981) noted that this pose includes bent knees, horizontal “turn-out” of the feet and hips, and a single foot placed on “three-quarter” pointe. Looper (Reference Looper and Koontz2001:118) suggests the raised-heel motif is better understood as a “conventional reference” to dance rather than a literal depiction of specific dance movements, noting that even in instances when glyphic references to dance accompany the scene, the dancer typically maintains a “highly rigid pose.”

Specific hand gestures are often used in conjunction with the raised-heel motif in scenes of dance, but identical gestures are sometimes used by non-dancers as well (Ancona-Ha et al. Reference Ancona-Ha, De Lara, Van Stone, Kerr and Kerr2000), suggesting that hand gestures alone do not indicate dance (Miller Reference Miller1981:133–134). One of the more common gestures involves the hand bent back sharply at the wrists with the palm facing outward and the fingers slightly flexed (Miller Reference Miller1981:134). In addition to the standard lifted-heel pose, many of the dancers are depicted bending at the waist (Miller Reference Miller1981:133), the significance of which we will return to below.

Our attempt to read the bodies of dancers as multilayered repositories of semiotic information aims to complement previous studies of Maya dance that have explored dance performance contexts as well as the iconic aspects of posture, gesture, and costuming (Houston Reference Houston, Inomata and Coben2006; Houston et al. Reference Houston, Stuart and Taube2006; Looper Reference Looper and Koontz2001, Reference Looper2009; Taube Reference Taube and Fields1985, Reference Taube, Le Fort, Gardiol, Matteo and Helmke2009). Following Naerebout (Reference Naerebout1997:234, cited in Looper Reference Looper2009:103), we resist any attempt to reconstruct the dances themselves. Our arguments rest on iconography, not choreography. What follows is an analysis of two of the most common categories of Classic Maya dance—those of the Maize God and those of the wahy beings—filtered through the lenses of both LMA and Peircean semiotics.

The Refined Body of the Maize God Dancer

One of the most widespread motifs in Maya art is the dancing Maize God (Looper Reference Looper2009:149; Taube Reference Taube, Le Fort, Gardiol, Matteo and Helmke2009:42). It is especially prominent on Holmul-style vessels (Looper Reference Looper2008, Reference Looper2009) and on the “Tikal Dancer Plates” (Boot Reference Boot2003). Such scenes are so common that Taube suggested, “if there is a Classic Maya god of dance, it would be the maize god” (Taube Reference Taube, Le Fort, Gardiol, Matteo and Helmke2009:42). The Maize God was one of the fundamental components of the “shared vocabulary” that transcended distinctive identities formed by both political boundaries and social classes across the Maya lowlands (Inomata Reference Inomata, Fiad and Hruby2007; Jackson Reference Jackson2009; Reents-Budet Reference Reents-Budet1998).

As depicted on Maya polychrome ceramics, Maize God dancers almost always have a distinctly vertical spinal alignment (K0097, K0621, K0622, K0633, K0703, K1271, K1837, K3388, K4464, K4619, K5648, K5941, K7434, K7720, K8088, K8190, K8533). Kurath and Marti (Reference Kurath and Marti1964:140) were the first to highlight the “erect posture” of a Maize God dancer “with feet in classic ballet ‘third position’—one foot half across the other—probably in a jump, with the dancer flipping his feet, arms extended, hands down from the wrists,” depicted on one of the Tikal Dancer plates (Figure 1). They use Labanotation to provide a detailed description of the Maize God's specific posture and gesture, which forms a basis from which we can begin formulating qualitative statements about the depictions. How is the body of the dancer positioned within Space? What type of Effort is conveyed by the dancer's posture and gesture? What meanings might these postural attitudes convey to the viewer?

Figure 1.

Example of Tikal Dancer Plate. Excavated from Uaxactún Burial a3 (painting by M. Louise Baker, courtesy of the University of Pennsylvania Museum [Image 165116]).

Meanings can often be adduced from the visual perspectives that artists chose when depicting their subjects, particularly those relating to frontal versus profile views of the head or body (Klein Reference Klein1976; Palka Reference Palka2002; Schapiro Reference Schapiro1973:37–49). In two-dimensional Classic Maya art, however, the heads of all full-length figures are almost unfailingly depicted in profile view. Although frontality of the torso often denotes “peak figures” and establishes hierarchical relationships in Classic Maya art (Palka Reference Palka2002), shifting perspectives of the Maize God dancers’ bodies may simply represent different moments from the same dance. Indeed, both frontal and profile perspectives of the Maize God's dance are sometimes depicted on opposite sides of the same vase (K517, K621, K3400, K5977). Significant variation exists within and between regional styles regarding the frontality of Maize God dancers (Looper Reference Looper2009:117–131). Long-established conventions may have governed such artistic decisions. As Looper (Reference Looper2009:92) noted, “the representation of dance poses in Maya art is very much determined by the need to avoid foreshortening and oblique views of the body.” Unlike frontality, however, their verticality remained remarkably consistent, which forms the foundation of our analysis here.

Vertical posture is often used cross-culturally as an indexical marker of training, technique, poise, and regality (Miettinen Reference Miettinen1992:99). Semiotic indices and icons are not mutually exclusive, however, so the Maize God's postural verticality may also be an iconic sign that is representational of his identification with the axis mundi. Among the Classic Maya, royal bodies in general tend to be depicted with this same erect posture, and indeed, the body of the ruler is also conceptualized as a living axis mundi (Houston et al. Reference Houston, Stuart and Taube2006; Schele and Miller Reference Schele and Miller1986:77; Taube Reference Taube1996, Reference Taube and Houston1998). The depiction of Pakal on the lid of his own sarcophagus provides one of the rare examples of a ruler in the guise of the Maize God whose posture is neither rigid nor vertical. To the contrary, his pose is that of a newborn infant. In this depiction, Pakal dons the garb of the Maize God not to recreate the god's dance, but rather to mimetically enact his rebirth (Martin Reference Martin, Tiesler Blos, Cobos and Green Robertson2002; Taube Reference Taube and Kerr1994). Importantly, from Pakal's resurrecting body springs the World Tree. In Classic Maya cosmology, the Maize God's resurrection as the World Tree brings order to the chaos, centers the cosmos, and provides new life to humanity (Martin Reference Martin and McNeil2006:179). As such, the vertical posture of the Maize God, and that of the rulers who dance in his guise, functions as an iconic sign representing the axis mundi, “the place of transformation, mediation, and balance” (Stross Reference Stross1992:102).

In addition to their verticality, the bodies of Maize God dancers are also focused and directional. There is little ambiguity in their attention to Space; their gestural focus is specific. Their arms appear to have a one-dimensional, sagittal, Spoke-like movement process, forward from the core of the body to the periphery of their kinesphere, pinpointing a specific spatial goal with the gesturing arm. Their gaze, like their bodies, is typically focused and directional, although sometimes they appear to gaze into the distance, far beyond their gesturing arm. Although the spine of the dancer remains vertically aligned, the distal parts of the body (particularly the arms and hands) are typically positioned at points within an octahedral pattern (Figure 2). This pattern is found on nearly all Holmul Maize God dancer vessels (see, for example, K0633, K3388, K4619, K5977, K7434, K7720, K7814, K8088, K8190). Such spatial clarity is one of the defining characteristics of the Maize God's dance.

Figure 2.

Octahedral Movement Constellation (illustration by Timothy Turner).

Determining Space qualities from two-dimensional art has obvious limitations, so we are fortunate to have at least one well-preserved, fully in-the-round bust of the Maize God to analyze (Figure 3). Burdick (Reference Burdick2010:93) notes that such three-dimensional figural sculptures from across the Maya area “exemplify the energy and vitality that artists aimed to evoke in two-dimensional works.” The bust (that originally adorned Structure 10L-22 at Copan) furnishes us with a dynamic, three-dimensional rendering of the Maize God's peripheral spatial tension (defining the boundary around his kinesphere), as well as his engagement in an octahedral movement constellation.

Figure 3.

Maize God sculpture from Copan (note the peripheral spatial tension and controlled gestures). Drawing by Linda Schele, reproduced courtesy of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art [SD-3518].

The hand gestures of the Maize God dancers exhibit peripheral spatial tension by calling attention to the distance between his core and the edge of his kinesphere. Although the fingers are deployed with delicacy and refinement, they nevertheless convey a sense of bound, contained energy (see especially K8533, K9190, K8088, K7814, K7720, K7434, K7013, K5977, K5648, K4619, K4464, K3389, K1837, K0633). Chi and colleagues (Reference Chi, Costa, Zhao and Badler2000) note that isolated gestures in the limbs may lack impact, but “when its Effort and Shape characteristics spread to the whole body, a person appears to project full involvement, conviction, and sincerity.” This is evident in the hand and arm movements of the Holmul Maize God dancers, which are always engaged in forward (sagittal) space, either directly forward or on the forward-high diagonal. Nevertheless, the Tikal Dancers often show the arms positioned on the high-side diagonal, suggesting a vertical rather than sagittal movement process. Nevertheless, either pattern exhibits an attention to an octahedral Space Harmony progression.

The Maize God dancers typically display a distinct wrist flexion and form spatially clear, exacting hand gestures. Catalogued using LMA, this wrist flexion shows a strongly defined kinesphere, peripheral spatial tension, and Bound Effort. Maya scribes, both human and supernatural, often display this same type of distinctive hand gesture (Figure 4). The scribal arts would have required similar levels of discipline, and thus their distinctive hand gestures are likewise indexical markers of their own training and proprioceptive control (see Herring Reference Herring2005:24). By way of contrast, the individual being held up by his companions in K1092 (Figure 5) has slack hands, and his lack of distinct, spatially precise gestures stand in contrast to other figures in the scene. He also lacks an upright vertical dimensional posture. His attention to Space is neither direct nor focused. His knees appear weak, as if he cannot hold himself upright. His posture and gestures are easily recognizable indexical signs that he is drunk.

Figure 4.

Supernatural scribe forming “Gesture 14” (drawing by Jorge Pérez de Lara and Mark Van Stone).

Figure 5.

Scene of drunkenness from K1092 (drawing by Emily Davis-Hale).

The two most common gestures formed by the Maize God dancers are what Ancona-Ha and coauthors (Reference Ancona-Ha, De Lara, Van Stone, Kerr and Kerr2000:1075, 1081) have designated “Gesture 1” and “Gesture 14.” In Gesture 1 (Figure 6), the palm faces outward with the fingertips pointing down. It is commonly found in supernatural palace scenes featuring the god Itzamnaaj, where he appears to use the gesture as a salutation or greeting as he sits upon his throne, although high-ranking human elites occasionally mimic it in palace scenes as well (Ancona-Ha et al. Reference Ancona-Ha, De Lara, Van Stone, Kerr and Kerr2000:1075). With Gesture 14 (see Figure 4), the thumb either touches or almost touches the tip of one of the fingers (Ancona-Ha et al. Reference Ancona-Ha, De Lara, Van Stone, Kerr and Kerr2000:1081). Although rarely found on the Tikal Dancer plates, it is by far the most commonly used by the Holmul Maize God dancers (Looper Reference Looper2009:125). The gesture is never sloppy or arbitrary. Typically, a single finger delicately touches the thumb (K0633, K1837, K3389, K4464, K4619, K5648, K5977, K7013, K7434, K7720, K7814, K8088, K9190, K8533). Because Gesture 14 is used in such a wide variety of situations and by a broad range of characters, it is difficult to offer any precise interpretation of either its iconic or symbolic meanings (Ancona-Ha et al. Reference Ancona-Ha, De Lara, Van Stone, Kerr and Kerr2000:1082). Nevertheless, we may still glean semiotic information from it by exploring the potential meanings it carries as an indexical sign.

Figure 6.

Itzamnaaj using “Gesture 1” as an apparent greeting in a supernatural palace scene. Such controlled gestures serve as indexical markers of proprioceptive refinement among both gods and elites (drawing by Jorge Pérez de Lara and Mark Van Stone, in Ancona-Ha et al. Reference Ancona-Ha, De Lara, Van Stone, Kerr and Kerr2000:1075).

Distinctly crystallized gestures such as these often serve as indexical signs of proprioceptive refinement (Kendon Reference Kendon and Poyatos1988; McNeill Reference McNeill1992). Our analysis finds that the dance of the Maize God is neither improvisational nor loose. The entire dance appears controlled, regal, and civil. The clearly defined hand gestures of the Maize God dancers and cultivated sense of refinement make clear that they are exhibiting trained, choreographed dance behavior. Among the Classic Maya, “refinement was read into bodily equipoise,” and “civility lent a particular appearance and feel to entire performative situations and physical conditions” (Herring Reference Herring2005:79). Verticality, upright stance, and posture are aligned to present the Maize God dancers in a sublimely human or metahuman state. Their embodied schema exhibit a rarified sense of movement. This crystallization of vertical alignment and directly focused Light/Bound gesture is found in many styles of dance cross-culturally and often used to portray a sense of “withheld strength” (Miettinen Reference Miettinen1992:99). This sense is augmented by the lower bodies of many Maize God dancers, which exhibit a Strong Weight Effort. They appear to be strongly rooted into the ground, with the weight center of the body flowing downward into the earth, while the upper body floats upward, supported by the base.

The Maize God dancers’ combination of Weight-Effort with Bound Flow and Direct Attention to Space leads us to postulate that they are engaged in what Laban analysts call “Spell Drive,” a compelling, nearly hypnotic combination of movement efforts. As Bartenieff and Lewis (Reference Bartenieff and Lewis1980:61) note, ”Without Time's sense of urgency or delay to loosen the stability, the steadfastness of Space/Weight becomes inescapable when Flow's ‘goingness’ is added to it, and a spell-like intensity is created.” Classic Maya elites entered into this state through dances performed during costumed deity impersonation rituals, wherein they believed they merged with, or even embodied, the supernatural being in a very real way (Houston et al. Reference Houston, Stuart and Taube2006: 270; Taube Reference Taube, Le Fort, Gardiol, Matteo and Helmke2009:45). As Danielsson (Reference Danielsson, Hamilakis, Pluciennik and Tarlow2002:181) noted, “masks enable embodiment of disembodied states” in transformative situations. Although it can be difficult at times to determine if a scene is intended to depict an actual supernatural being or merely a human impersonator (Freidel et al. Reference Freidel, Schele and Parker1993:262), our interpretive approach remains unaffected due to the perceived ontological unity that exists between the dancer and the gods during such ritual moments (Houston et al. Reference Houston, Stuart and Taube2006:270; see also Lakoff and Johnson Reference Lakoff and Johnson1980). The Maize God, of course, was the most commonly impersonated deity during such ritual dances (Taube Reference Taube and Carrasco2001:306).

Previous analyses of the posture and gestures of the Maize God dancers have focused on their iconic aspects by noting that they are imitative of the maize plant. Complemented by an indexical analysis, those same scenes also reveal their posture and gestures to be indicative of the dancers’ training in specific movement technique. This movement technique is in turn indexical of a refined sense of harmony and equipoise. The bodies of the Maize God dancers are thus made “literate,” fluent in the language of refined movement that is choreographed, specific, and meaning-making. It was up to the artists to make them legible to the viewer, however. Houston (Reference Houston2001:215, expounding on the work of Levy [Reference Levy, Shweder and LeVine1984]) emphasizes that affect—the subjective states attributed by one person to another—was “hypercognated” or “elaborated and explicitly highlighted” in Classic Maya art, noting that “by their very appearance in painting and sculpture, affect, fear and despair, drunkenness, lustful abandon and grief must have been subject to comment and dissection. In a word, they were hypercognated by the Classic Maya. But the absence of such affect must also have been hypercognated, as part of an idealized mode of self-constraint and concealment of emotion behind stylized gesture.” Filtered through our semiotic lens, that means we may read the controlled, refined affect of the Maize God dancers not only for what they are, but also in terms of what they are not: they are expressly not wild or unrestrained, a point to which we will return.

We speculate that vestiges of this dance may still be manifest in traditional Maya communities today. Among the Tzutujil Maya of Santiago Atitlan, Guatemala, for example, a powerful priest known as a nab'eysil performs a ritual dance which Christenson (Reference Christenson, Guernsey and Kent Reilly2006) describes as being “stately,” “slow,” “restrained,” and “purposeful.” Significantly, the priest dances while holding the sacred bundle of Martín, the patron of the maize harvest. The dance “consists mostly of small, purposeful steps with the knees slightly bent, the arms held downward and away from the body, and rhythmically leaning his body from side to side” (Christenson Reference Christenson, Guernsey and Kent Reilly2006:240–241). At the end of the dance, the nab'eysil holds his arms outward and slightly down in a “crucifixion-like pose.” One of the Tzutujil men explained that the pose represented “a maize plant as it grows out of the earth with its leaves extending outward away from the stalk” (Christenson Reference Christenson, Guernsey and Kent Reilly2006:241–242), vividly illustrating the concept that bodily posture and gesture function as iconic signs. Although this ethnographic description is tantalizingly similar to those offered by iconographers concerning the Classic period Maize God dancers, caution warrants we present it here by way of analogy rather than as a rubric for interpretation (Taube Reference Taube and Markman2014; see also Bricker Reference Bricker1981:130–133).

Gestural Vocabulary of the Wahy Creatures

In dramatic contrast to the refined gestures that typify the Maize God are those of the strange wahy creatures that populate the underworldFootnote ⁴. The wahy are a common type of supernatural being, although they are not technically considered gods. Not only are they never granted the divine epithet k'uh (sacred, holy), they are also never shown in direct interaction with such sacred beings (Grube Reference Grube, Graña-Behrens, Grube, Prager, Sachse, Teufel and Wagner2004:74). They are generally depicted as fantastical or frightening creatures that combine anthropomorphic, zoomorphic, or skeletal features (Calvin Reference Calvin, Kerr and Kerr1997; Grube Reference Grube, Graña-Behrens, Grube, Prager, Sachse, Teufel and Wagner2004:215). Although not completely understood, some Classic period wahy entities may have been personifications of disease, illnesses, or sorcery (Grube Reference Grube, Graña-Behrens, Grube, Prager, Sachse, Teufel and Wagner2004; Helmke and Nielsen Reference Helmke and Nielsen2009; Houston and Inomata Reference Houston and Inomata2009:208; Stuart Reference Stuart2012; Zender Reference Zender2004:72–77).

As with the Maize God, elites commonly impersonated these entities by wearing particular masks and costume elements during their ritual performances. Scenes of dancing wahy creatures are extremely common on Classic period ceramic vessels (Grube Reference Grube1992:214), and as with the Maize God dancers, their postural and gestural characteristics are ripe with semiotic meaning. To illustrate, we turn first to an elegantly executed Ik’-style vessel, the Altar de Sacrificios Vase (Figure 7), painted by the same artist who created K791. The artist was sponsored by the ruler K'ihnich Lamaw Ek’, and we know of at least two other vases painted by the same hand, which likewise feature wahy creatures (Halperin and Foias Reference Halperin and Foias2010; Reents-Budet et al. Reference Reents-Budet, Foias, Bishop, Blackman, Guenter, Pedro Laporte, Arroyo and Mejía2007). On both the Altar Vase and K791, the wahy beings dance with a downward, internal focus, yet their bodies appear light and luminous. Their kinesphere has shrunk. The dancers look away from their hands. Looper (Reference Looper2009:224) describes their dance postures as “strongly hunched or agitated.” Their eyes focus downward, as if concentrating on inner processes or visions, which find physical expression in private, personal movement processes. The internal focus of these dancers seems indicative of a remote state. They appear to be experiencing an otherworldly reality, one of trance or ecstasy. Unlike the vertical position of the Maize God dancers, the wahy dancers bend at the waist, and their torsos appear fluid and loose, engaged in a process of free-flowing energy. Their dance is wholly unconcerned with spatial precision or articulation. Their movement is not Bound or contained. Their legs and feet step lightly on the ground. In stark contrast to the Strong Weight displayed by the Maize God dancers, the wahy creatures do not appear rooted into the earth. To the contrary, they seem to almost float away from it, unconstrained by gravity, perhaps indexical of an out-of-body experience or a “dreamlike vision” (Werness-Rude and Spencer Reference Werness-Rude, Spencer, Werness-Rude and Spencer2015:19).

Figure 7.

Dancing wahy being. Note the downward focus, Light Weight, and Free Flow efforts. Detail from the Altar de Sacrificios vase. Museo Nacional de Arqueología y Etnología, Guatemala City. Excavated from Burial 96 of Structure A-III (Adams Reference Adams1971. Drawing by Linda Schele, courtesy of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art [SD-5504].