Antoine Oleyant, Guedeh

Antoine Oleyant, Guedeh, c. 1981–91, beads and sequins on nylon cloth, 35-1/4 x 43 inches (El Museo del Barrio, New York) © Estate of Antoine Oleyant

In this colorful scene of death and transition, we see a bald figure wielding a lasso aimed at a person in a blue casket amidst floating faces, snakes, and crosses. This is a drapo, a Haitian creole term meaning “flag” (derived from the French drapeau). It is crafted on shining fabric with glimmering sequins by Haitian artist Antoine Oleyant. This drapo is an example of an emblematic religious object that transcended its liturgical (religious) context to become a sought-after art object.

Spiritual flags and flags for the spirits

Drapos are ritual flags and perhaps the most well-known of Vodou’s liturgical objects. These are textiles heavily embroidered with sequins and beads. They are found in oum’phor (temples) adorning the pé (altar) dedicated to the loas. This drapo by Oleyant is dedicated to the Guedeh (also known as Guédé or Gede), the loas of death and cemeteries. While Oleyant’s work was made for the tourist and art market, it is deeply steeped in Vodou tradition.

Vodou combines elements from West African religions and Catholicism into its beliefs, mythology, and practices. Its pantheon features a vast array of figures, with Bondyu as the supreme creator and God, followed by a great number of loas who concern themselves with elemental aspects of the universe and human life. A fundamental characteristic of Vodou is the relationship between the faithful and the loas. Vodouists honor the loas through worship, offerings, and ceremonies where they seek to communicate with them. The loas in turn offer their protection and guidance. Through ritual, the loas aid and advise the faithful in whatever may trouble them, in matters ranging from illness to important work decisions, to personal relationships. Most loas with similar attributes are grouped in families or nations. The Guedeh nation gathers the loas related to different aspects of death and the afterlife.

Loas are often syncretized with Catholic saints and have rich iconographies. They are frequent subjects in modern and contemporary Haitian art, being one of the main themes of the so-called primitive painters of the mid-20th century. They are also essential to the religion’s visual and material culture. The drapos encapsulate all this.

West African asafo flag, mid-20th century (Fante people; Ghana), textile, 111.76 x 157.48 cm (The George Washington University Museum and The Textile Museum, Washington, D.C.)

The origin of the Vodou drapo has been traced to Catholic processional banners and the prevalent presence of flags in West African and European military cultures (as identifying emblems of military factions). [1] This concept was adopted into the Vodou religious context to become emblems of the loas. Originally, these ritual flags were created in the temples by Vodouists believed to be under the influence of the loa whose image and symbols they were capturing on the cloth. [2] The flag itself is considered both the offering and the loa’s acceptance of said offering. [3] This spiritual back and forth is an expression of this central communication between devotees and the loas. It also relates to the importance given to aesthetics, as the flag maker strives to make the flag as beautiful as possible to honor the loa it is dedicated to. [4] The glittering brightness of the sequins has also been described as the very presence of the loas in the flags. [5]

Co-drapeaux (flag bearers). Phyllis Galembo, Rose Anne and Andre Rose Mercilien with Drapo, 1994 © Phyllis Galembo

Once finished, the drapos are consecrated through different rituals to activate and imbue them with power. [6] They are then kept in pairs at the temples’ pé, but the flags are also used in ceremonies. They are used to lead processions dedicated to the loas, in ritual salutations at the beginning of ceremonies, and in dances in temples. [7] In these, the flags are carried by female houn’sihs acting as co-drapeaux (flag bearers), who march and dance with them. [8]

Antoine Oleyant, Guedeh, c. 1981–91, beads and sequins on nylon cloth, 35-1/4 x 43 inches (El Museo del Barrio, New York) © Estate of Antoine Oleyant

Oleyant’s vision of the Guedeh

Framed in burgundy cloth is a scene entirely made of sequins. The background is made up of organic shapes in pink, lavender, and grey. At the center is a cross on a stepped pedestal, composed of black, white, and red squares with alternating dots of the same colors in the middle, contrasting dramatically with the pastel background. Spirals reminiscent of ironwork spring from the top and arms of the cross, while two green snakes gather at its crown. Grey heads with no other features but two eyes sprout from the ends of the cross’ arms.

To the right of the great cross is a highly stylized figure with yellow skin and red features. He is barefoot and dressed in blue and black clothes with pink sleeves. He holds what appears to be a red lasso he throws toward a blue coffin. Inside the coffin is a small figure, not unlike the first, dressed in white with black hair crowned with a little cross. Under the main cross and the coffin are a cup, a bottle, and a bell with three floating heads, two grey ones and a black, horned one with four fangs. Six black stars float above the figures and besides the lasso carrier is a stylized cross with a vèvè inspired design.

There is no interest in perspective or depth in the composition. The scene is framed by a green line on the left with the artist’s signature, “Antoine,” and on the right with a golden line reading “Guedeh.” All is surrounded by a pattern of diamond shapes, in turn framed by strips of nylon.

Oleyant’s flag presents a cemetery scene filled with the complex iconography of the loas of death. Cemeteries are appropriate places for the Guedeh, with Baron Samedi being the principal spirit of that space. [9] In fact the cross that defines the composition is inspired by Baron Samedi’s vèvè and is a reference to this loa. The figure with the red lasso and dark clothing befitting the Guedeh may then be a representation of Baron Samedi.

Floating faces (detail), Antoine Oleyant, Guedeh, c. 1981–91, beads and sequins on nylon cloth, 35-1/4 x 43 inches (El Museo del Barrio, New York) © Estate of Antoine Oleyant

The objects under the cross add a ceremonial aspect to the scene. During Fèt Gede (term for Day of the Dead in Haiti), Vodouists honor their dead and the Guedeh in cemeteries by performing rituals, presenting offerings like rum and candles, and lighting fires before crosses associated with these loas, like Baron Samedi and Baron La Croix. In this cemetery scene, the floating faces could represent the dead or spirits.

Green snakes that may represent Legba (detail), Antoine Oleyant, Guedeh, c. 1981–91, beads and sequins on nylon cloth, 35-1/4 x 43 inches (El Museo del Barrio, New York) © Estate of Antoine Oleyant

However, the artist did not limit himself to Guedeh iconography. The two green snakes on the upper part of the cross may represent Legba, either as the prominent loa with two snakes as his symbols and often syncretized with Jesus Christ or as the Legba nation of loas associated with life. [10] Legba is also connected with crossroads. The vèvè-like cross on the right could be a simplified version of Legba’s vèvè. The multitude of symbols craft a composition where Baron Samedi, lord of the cemetery, is ready to transition or cross the recently deceased in the coffin to their afterlife.

From the oum’phor to the art market

This complex narrative scene with multiple figures is representative of Antoine Oleyant’s work. Oleyant broke away from Vodou drapo conventions to create eye-catching flags for the art market. Oleyant was born and raised in the rural town of Plaisance-du-Sud, Haiti. He moved to the capital Port-au-Prince in the early 1970s in search of better economic opportunities. There he started his career working with metal and wood, selling his sculptures to tourists.

Clotaire Bazile, Barron Criminele, c. 1980s, beads and sequins on synthetic cloth, 92 x 82.2 cm (Fowler Museum, Los Angeles) © Estate of Clotaire Bazile

There was an established tourist market for Vodou flags in Port-au-Prince by the 1960s. It only continued to grow in the following decades and in response, more artists and ougans (Vodou priests) like Clotaire Bazile and Sylva Joseph created flags for this audience. Oleyant grew interested in the techniques of flag making and its market and changed his practice. His drapos draw from tradition but he sought his own style and to push the possibilities of what could be communicated through Vodou imagery in sequins. He started to incorporate ceremonial scenes and images of offerings and other ritual objects, which wasn’t common at the time. [11] His figures are highly stylized; the rounded triangular heads and the forked feet in the Guedeh flag are distinct to his style. [12]

Antoine Oleyant, Guedeh, c. 1981–91, beads and sequins on nylon cloth, 35-1/4 x 43 inches (El Museo del Barrio, New York) © Estate of Antoine Oleyant

Oleyant stepped away from the more traditional compositions centered neatly on a vèvè or on the lone figure of a loa. Oleyant brought narrative to the flags, representing various figures and playing with the religious iconography. This can make his compositions difficult to decipher as he was not always interested in following iconographic conventions. This can be seen in Guedeh, where the possible figure of Baron Samedi is featured without his typical top hat and he carries a lasso, which does not seem to be a common symbol in Vodou. The title, the central cross, and the cemetery setting are what allow us an identification of Baron Samedi. Oleyant and other sequin artists who were and are making flags for tourists and collectors conceive their pieces differently from those destined to be liturgical objects. While heavily inspired by Vodou, these commercial flags are not sacralized and so are without religious significance, considered to be “without soul.” [13]

Oleyant’s career skyrocketed in the 1980s when his work drew the attention of visiting artists like Tina Girouard and musician Richard A. Morse, who bought his work and supported him financially. Morse, who took over the management of the famous Hotel Oloffson in the late 1980s, offered Oleyant a space at the hotel for his workshop “Atelier Simbi.” It was there that Girouard and Oleyant met and started a collaborative professional relationship which influenced each other’s work. Girouard began to experiment with the embroidery techniques used by Oleyant, while on her advice Oleyant began crafting monumental pieces. [14] Girouard was also important in helping Oleyant reach a wider U.S. audience; she proposed an exhibition of his work at the 1991 Festival International in Lafayette, Louisiana. [15] Oleyant’s work began to see more international interest from collectors during this period. Unfortunately, he died unexpectedly of a stroke at age 37 at the height of his career, yet he left a lasting influence on generations of drapo artists and its market.