Abstract
Batswana (People of Botswana) traditionally celebrate the end of seasons with dikopelo musical performances. This paper discusses Bakgatla-ba-Kgafela’s dikopelo festive celebrations, an annual return of choirs to their performance grounds through the duality of home and away. The author, a performer, interrogates through participant observation in four performances from December 2015 to January 2019, the seventeen-hour performance from midnight until the following day at sunset. Her experience is conceptually framed on Van Manen’s four lifeworld existentials of lived space (grounds), lived body (performs), lived time (seventeen hours) and lived human relations (performers, family, supporters). In conclusion, she takes a reflexive position of the subjectivity of her experience in relation to her fellow performers’; the blurred boundaries of her academic/performer roles and fieldwork/post-fieldwork spaces as her dikopelo lived experience is beyond this study’s timeframe. Her reality as an ethnographer at home, is the constant negotiation of her multiple unending identities.
Introduction: Bakgatla-ba-Kgafela and Dikopelo
Bakgatla-ba-Kgafela (henceforward Bakgatla) migrated into modern Botswana, formerly the Bechuanaland Protectorate, in 1871 from Saulspoort, South Africa under the leadership of Kgosi Kgamanyane. Their migration was a result of Paul Kruger’s public flogging of Kgamanyane in 1870 due to his refusal to provide labour for a dam project. Their first settlement in modern Botswana was in the Kweneng territory where they were given land by Kgosi Sechele but later migrated into the present Mochudi where they have since settled (Pörsel, 2014). Dikopelo (plural; kopelo [singular]) is a Tswana word derived from go opela (to sing). Among Bakgatla, dikopelo is an important folklore music sung by a group of people who become known by their collective identifier, their choir’s name. In order to understand its cultural value, it is essential to firstly contextualize the music within the broad Tswana culture as Bakgatla are Tswana speakers, a Bantu language spoken both in Botswana and South Africa (Denbow and Thebe, 2006). Music is a component of every activity in various spatial and temporal functions and settings among the Tswana as in other African cultures (Simako 2009, 4). Other Tswana speaking communities such as Bangwaketse, Bakwena and Barolong in Botswana perform dikhwaere, similar to dikopelo, but varies in performance style, melody and duration. In contrast, non-Tswana speaking communities in Botswana also possess signature music and dance; Tsutsube of the San (Phibion and Khudu-Petersen 2016), Wosana of Bakalanga (Phibion, 2013) and Seperu of Bayei (Brown, 2020). The centrality of dikopelo in Bakgatla’s cultural calendar is linked to the cultural significance of other types of music, for example, in bogwera and bojale, (boys’ and girls’ initiation schools respectively), dikgafela (ploughing thanksgiving ceremony) or end of season celebrations (Wood, 1985). The author conducted in-depth research of traditional music in Botswana and specifically among Bakgatla-ba-Kgafela in the mid-1970’s but her main interest was on initiation songs and other genre (Wood, 1976, 1978).
This article reflects on the embodied experience of the annual dikopelo performances which occur around the festive season, that is, Christmas and New Year at choirs’ performance grounds (mabala). These have been performed though with changing forms from time immemorial, unlike other mid-year performances such as Sedibelo Festival, which Rapoo refers to as ‘cultural performance’ (Rapoo, 2016). It should however be noted that initially dikopelo were less-structured and performed at farmlands (masimo) to celebrate the ploughing season and end of year. Then the groups were smaller in numbers with different styles from the current as choirs from neighbouring farmlands met to compete against each other (Mogapi, 2017). The advent of Christianity during the colonial period resulted in the practice where the performances were held on Christmas and New Year as their time coincided with the end of year ploughing season. The modern form of is traced to one of dikopelo living ‘masters’ from the 1980’s, Thibe Nyepedzi, nicknamed ‘Senior Lecture’ and ‘Double Numbers’ (Mogapi, 2017). As in other African communities, dikopelo has been transmitted orally through many generations (Nwamara, 2017).
The annual dikopelo performance comprises of two choirs competing at home and away based on the concept of go kgopa (to initiate), a process through which a choir requests the other to compete with them during the next festive period. In the present, the challenge is initiated through a letter as early as the beginning of the year and the challenged choir also responds similarly. However, in the past a messenger was sent to convey the message orally. Once the two choirs agree to compete, negotiation of the competition procedures resumes until the performance date. The tradition is that during the first leg of the performance, usually around the Christmas, 1 the challenger is away. The return leg of the performance is at their home ground a week later, on New Year’s Day. In the past, the performances were not classified, then with time changed to Super League, First Second, Third and Fourth Divisions (Batlotleng, 2017). The basis was the standard of performance from the Super League, the best performing choirs, to the lowest in the Fourth division based on poor or unregular performance. The classification has since reverted to phases of dates from pre-Christmas to the last batches. The change is a vital example of internal cultural change in societies (Parisi et al., 2003).
The performance grounds are near farmlands (masimo), situated within cultural landscapes of each village. Choir members dwell at the villages but journey to their grounds for the performance. They belonged to the same lands in the past they but this has changed over time to include any interested person, perhaps because presently people mostly dwell in villages, towns or cities and are no longer sorely dependent on subsistence farming as before. Members of each choir socially identify with their grounds as their geographic spaces with embedded cultural meaning translating into ethnographic landscapes (Evans et al., 2001). If performed and studied within a specific group of people who share culture and language, music becomes a cultural identifier.
Participant observation and reflexivity of the lived experiences in Dikopelo
The study’s lived experience of dikopelo was through participant observation in four home and away dikopelo performances between December 2015 and January 2019 framed on Van Manen’s four lifeworld existentials of lived space (spatiality), lived body (corporeality), lived time (temporality) and lived human relations (relationality) (Van Manen, 1990). The framework was applied because the four “existentials” are the basis of most human lifeworlds despite an individual’s or a group’s sociocultural setting (Van Manen, 1990). It was the one which could holistically answer the questions ‘how is my dikopelo lived experience?’ or ‘how are our dikopelo lived experiences?’ The body (lived body) becomes fully engaged in dikopelo through the seventeen-hour performance period (lived time) at the grounds (mabala) (lived space) within a social group of performers, supporters, family and community (lived human relations). As a member of Matlapa-A-Leloto Choir, I link my study experiences to the following four settings where I participated from the beginning to the end. The first on 25/26 December 2015, was between Mawelana and Matlapa-A-Leloto choirs at Marapong and on 01/02 January 2016 at Lelotong, Figure 1. The author performing with Matlapa-A-Leloto at home vs Mawelana Choir, 02-01-2016. (Author requested someone from the audience to take the picture).
Even though Mawelana Choir initiated the performance, Matlapa-A-Leloto wanted to celebrate the new year at their lebala, Lelotong hence the agreement to start at Marapong grounds. On the second performance, Matlapa-A-Leloto competed with Moologe choir on 25/26 December 2016 at Lelotong with the return leg at Moologe grounds on 01/02 January 2017. Figure 2 depicts Matlapa-A-Leloto performing mid-afternoon at Moologe grounds during the return leg with all choir members fully adorned in their new uniform. This is the peak of the competition that is often the basis for the judgement verdict when performers give their best melodies and dance rhythms. As we do this, we are connected by our collective quest for triumph. I found this time to be the best to capture our experience visually. My experience as a performer, triggered my ethnographer’s desire to record. Matlapa-A-Leloto performing at Moologe grounds (Moologe vs Matlapa-A-Leloto) 02-01- 2017 (Setlhabi, 2017).
The third performance occurred between Matlapa-A-Leloto at our lebala on 23/24 December, 2017 and Okanyatsa Choir at the latter’s ground, Dipoaneng on 30/31 December 2017, (Figure 3). Okanyatsa Choir performing at Dipoaneng grounds (Okanyatsa vs Matlapa-A-Leloto), 24-12-2017 (Setlhabi, 2017).
Lastly was the performance between Matlapa-A-Leloto and Mmakgomo Dinare (henceforth Mmakgomo) choirs which began at Mmakgomo ground on 25/26 December, 2018 (Figure 4) and ended with the return leg at Lelotong on 01/02 January 2019. Mmakgomo Dinare performing at Mmakgomo grounds (Mmakgomo Dinare vs Matlapa-A-Leloto), 02-01-2019 (Setlhabi, 2019).
I ask the following musical question about Bakgatla, which is basic to understanding the musical man; Who listens and who plays and sings in any given society and why (Blacking, 1973:32)?
The question will be addressed through conceptualizing dikopelo performance through the embodiment of lebala (performance ground), with the intent to understand its meaning in relation to the bodily experience. This is where the performers become present in dikopelo. It becomes meaningful in their engagement with each other through the lyrics, melodies, dance rhythms, instruments and the audiences they relate with, all within their cultural setting (Berger, 2015). As a researcher, I could only experience dikopelo from within because a researcher is always part of the phenomenon (Lilja, 2013). The experience-related questions addressed in dikopelo are; How is the dikopelo experience? How do performers experience dikopelo? What is the dikopelo experience in relation to my body, place, time and human relations? Having attended dikopelo from childhood as a spectator until I started performing, for many years I like the other spectators, viewed the performance from an entertainment perspective. I took the decision to perform intending to enjoy my culture then consequently write about it. From the onset, I knew that I could not perform without writing or write without performing. It would be another subjective discourse because the basis is on what I have experienced about my own culture, hence acknowledging the subjectivity (Custer, 2014). I was fully aware of how my position as a performer, was also participant observation, hence also conceptualizing the study on ethnographic reflexivity. Each step of my performances as captured in Figures 1 and 11 was also my fieldwork that could only be captured in memory as I could not write while performing, an instance I had mastered through prior research of conducting ethnography at home. My memory became my field notebook in my field, lebala.
The second methodology was open-ended interviews held with several choir members to obtain their dikopelo experience perspectives. It was crucial to hear their viewpoints as a researcher-performer in addition to our collective musical experiences. I knew that bodily experiences vary and are subjective and theirs could not be like mine (Hosken, 2018). I asked selected performers to describe their experiences during the annual return to their lebala detailing how they felt at key times such as entry, dawn, mid-afternoon and at the end of the performances. The other type of interviews were informal conversations with fellow performers, supporters or members of other choirs. Since my choir members knew that I was also an academic writing about my culture, I was overt in dikopelo. My reflexive position includes the knowledge of awareness by others in my choir or other choirs.
Lastly, I engaged in photo documentation to capture the performance visuals and ethnographic fieldwork, either as a photographer or being photographed while performing. Either way, there were high possibilities of performance staging because a photographer, by her very presence, inevitably influences the acting and staging of his subjects (Farahmand, 2017, 6).
However, I employed the method with the rationale to visually enhance experience, observation and description of various dikopelo phenomena. The photo documentation would be selective and subjective since I decided what was appropriate to capture in relation to specific key variables such as time and space as it influenced the music. The trend in dikopelo has been to request for permission from competing choirs to document prior to performances or even during performances of other choirs. This is how it became possible for me to visually record amid restrictions by choirs, making me to once again become a privileged insider (Dodworth, 2021).
Who sings and how in Dikopelo?
Dikopelo choirs are composed of male and female performers led by the male leader known as teacher and the female one, mistress, who both excel in melody and dance. The mistress plays the whistle which she also keeps safely throughout the year, an instance of a non-museum gendered curation of objects resulting in gendered meaning of a musical instrument (Doubleday, 2008). A whistle is therefore her embodiment as she carries it to all performances as its keeper who knows and applies all its rituals. As Dawe (2013) argues, musical instruments have the power to influence the thoughts, actions and deeds of others; objects come to embody complex intentionality and mediate social agency (2013: 14).
In Figure 5, Matlapa-A-Leloto mistress since 2005, Chadiko Mmutle, is interviewed with her elderly mother (wearing a blue shawl), who also shared her experiences as a former choir mistress during her performing years in the 1960’s. The author interviewing Matlapa-A-Leloto mistress and her mother, 19-10-2017. (Author requested another person to capture the interview).
This depicts how dikopelo is embedded in families, that is, human relations. The elderly woman, Mmakgara Ramaabya, narrated how during their era, women were expected to cease performing when they got married as her case. This contrasts modern times as married women are allowed to perform. Her daughter, Chadiko, carries many songs in her memory as one of the oldest members of Matlapa-A-Leloto, some of which were taught by her mother such as their favourite, ‘Onini we’. As the two narrated their dikopelo experiences, they were inspired to harmoniously sing it. The performers’ age range can be 12 to 65 years and elderly parents can perform if their physical ability allows. They often become choir elders who support their choir through ululations. I captured Mmakgomo choir elders’ support through performance in Figure 6, a first occurrence I observed of elders in uniform in dikopelo. They are also wearing shawls (megagolwane), often an identifier of marital status or age worn during important cultural events among the Tswana. The symbolic meaning of the elders’ actions is that they identify with the performers as they dance together in rhythm. Some of them who earlier performed in the same choir, elaborated how returning to their lebala triggered memory of their younger years on the same space. Figures 5 and 6 present two generations of family and societal oral transmission of dikopelo in which experience is narrated verbally in Figure 5 and performed in Figure 6. The two generations demonstrate what performance means to them, evidence of the musical value in current or former performers despite different generational contexts. Mmakgomo Choir Elders, Lelotong, (Matlapa-A-Leloto vs Mmakgomo), 02-01- 2019 (Setlhabi, 2019).
Lebala: The lived place for performance and ritual
In dikopelo, the ground (lebala) is the central phenomenon as it is the space in which performers experience as home during the annual festivals. The performance is a ritual because as with rituals, dikopelo have repeated annual returns which have resulted in attachment to the space and is embedded with sacredness (Mazumdar and Mazumdar, 1993: 232). A ritual also encompasses associated beliefs that can only be understood within a specific context (Lewis-Williams and Loubser, 2014). The valorization of places reawakens respect and attachment which results in either written oral or written rules that people learn and strictly abide by. The rules, meila, in Tswana language, are often in prohibitory tones and are used in Indigenous Knowledge Systems (IKS) to protect and safeguard relationships with the phenomena. Furthermore in performances, the place, people and related ‘things’ are prepared in advance in rituals (Hull, 2014). Additionally, dikopelo is a ritual performance because as it is the norm in African cultures, the divide between cultural and natural, secular and religious is often blurred (Denbow and Thebe, 2006). People can sing, dance and pray in any setting as they are constantly connected to their spirituality. Olupona (2015) posits that religion cannot be delinked from other spheres of African life be it culture, society or even the environment. Religion … “is a way of life, and it can never be separated from the public sphere” (Harvard, 2015)
The first phase of interaction between the body and place in dikopelo is the lebala preparation, in the context of the author’s home ground, Lelotong. This begins intensively a month before the performance date and includes de-bushing the surrounding area and other maintenance tasks such as fixing the outer and inner fences of the grounds. During the preparation phase, the choir re-demarcates its resting place and that of the competing one, the ritual that will be elaborated later in this section. The ground is also protected a few days before performance through several practices depending on each choir’s beliefs. The annual return to lebala triggers an intense longing that is awakened during the preparation phase. The space is not meaningless but is valorized as demonstrated by the strict entry procedures during performance. Choir members embark on a mission to engage their bodies in musical performance on personified grounds, either theirs or of the other. The highlight of the contest is cemented when the two choirs meet at the host’s ground which marks the second bodily encounter of space, the embodied phenomena. The visiting choir announces its arrival through a whistle (pcwerre/phala) a few meters from the hosts’ grounds. An entry song “Koko re a kokota” (knock we are knocking) can be sung continuously at the entrance followed by the permission onto the hosts’ ground signaled by opening of the gate. Each choir has its away entrance song sung to announce its arrival. In turn, the host starts singing the welcoming song which sees the two choirs singing simultaneously. The greetings and introductory musical gestures on the performance space last for 20 minutes. Due to strong beliefs that choirs can implant weakening substances to cripple the other during the entry time, each choir becomes very alert in order to prevent any such action by ensuring that the other choir does not cross onto its demarcated rest space. This becomes a home within a home of lebala as it is where each choir will retreat after each performance. Additionally, each rest space also has its own entrance where only designated choir members are allowed to use as entry or exit point. Matlapa-A-Leloto entrance and rest space at Lelotong is on the opposite of the visitors’ shown in Figure 7. The beliefs are real and are yet another example of where the sacred is embedded within a secular festive performance (Ciucci, 2017). The visiting choirs’ entrance at Lelotong near their rest space captured during a non-performance time, 20-10-2017 (Setlhabi, 2017).
The transformation of space from an empty one in Figure 7 to a performance stage in Figure 8 is the phenomenon that choirs experience in dikopelo performance. Lelotong turned into a performance stage during Matlapa-A-Leloto at home vs Okanyatsa Choir, 24-12-2017.
The grounds’ meaning is validated through bodily moves and lyrics. The quest to triumph is intertwined with notions of “our” home or “their” home when away. When a choir sets out for the away performance, the goal is to defeat the competitor on its ground, hence the statement “re ya go ba phala ko lebaleng la bone” (we are going to defeat them on their home ground). The battle for the other’s space is a bodily conquest as it is victory through performance. The full participation and concentration of each person is demonstrated through uniformity of musical dance as captured in performance figures. It is a bodily experience of space because of the activeness of the body on the phenomenon. This is why a symbolic defeat occurs when the visitors access the host’s space and hence the strict adherence to the ground entry rules. The seriousness of other forms of choir competitions is documented elsewhere in different performance research, for example, it is key in South African choral music as it earns choirs’ excellence status making it a valuable attribute (Bartolome, 2018). The notion of sacredness in musical performance also exists in other cultures in Botswana. For example, the Wosana of the Kalanga, sing the rain prayer songs to Mwali at their sacred sites (Mathangwane, 2003). These are also often performed during annual cultural festivals such as Domboshaba. However, sacredness in the Wosana dance is directly linked to the rain prayers while in dikopelo, it is geared more towards an attachment to the space (lebala) and its meila (taboos). To the performers, dikopelo is cultural and yet spiritual.
The lived body: Singing and dance
The body is fundamental in dikopelo performance as it sings and dances hence its intense preparation prior to the festive competition. The first bodily preparation is musical and starts about a month prior to performance with practice sessions in the evenings, often at the teacher’s home and at times during ground preparation as in Figure 9 depicting some Matlapa-A-Leloto practicing on their ground. On this preparation day, the meaning of their lebala seemed to be validated in their bodily moves as they anticipated defeating their opponent on the upcoming performance (battle) days. The signature dance is a three-step performed in uniformity by all members. Other type of dances include swinging to the left and right and a few decorative ones. Matlapa-A-Leloto choir members practicing during their ground’s cleaning on 17-12-2017 (Setlhabi, 2017).
New songs are learnt secretly without the observance of the competing choir during the preparation time. The old songs are also rehearsed with few changes if necessary to substitute the choir names to reflect the current competitor. Bodily preparation is given the utmost seriousness as the intangible price of winning over the other is deeply desired by all members including supporters. Triumph over the competitor instils pride that is carried in memory and is constantly echoed with, bao re phadile (those we defeated). Fitness is of paramount importance in the bodily preparation for the seventeen-hour performance, which also entails mental strength intertwined with the bodily one. The musical performance exhibited to the audience is also exhibited to self (Bell, 1992). One experiences a deep transcendence through music that leads to a realization of growth personally and their relations with others (Sager, 2006: 143). While dikopelo performance is collective, when one pays attention to individuals, each manifests a bodily experience that is beyond the aesthetic, an instance that Blacking terms the “the other self within themselves and other human beings” (Blacking, 1995: 34). The performer’s attention is on the intense experience within as it is where one connects to their musical self. Each performer has awaited singing and dancing throughout the year; suddenly it seems that their purpose in life is achieved because they were created to sing. Occasionally singers collapse in trance as they suddenly experience a deep spiritual awakening. For example, during Matlapa-A-Leloto and Mawelana performance in December 2015, two Matlapa-A-Leloto sibling performers collapsed at the beginning of the performance due to an intense spiritual encounter. When enquiring about the occurrence the following day, they detailed that as members of an African Traditional Church, they sensed implantment of objects when entering the host grounds which stirred their spirits. Additionally, some choir members liken dikopelo to church attendance as shown by the response of a male performer when quizzed about his church membership Ke tsena dikopelo fela, ke tsone kereke ya me (I only attend dikopelo, they are my only church)
Another female performer often reminds the choir to take her body to Lelotong for service instead of church as part of her burial service. She elaborated ha le sena go ntsaa ko mmoshareng, le nkgatiseng ko Lelotong pele le mphitla (after taking my body from the morgue, take me to Lelotong before my burial)
Funeral rituals are a rite of passage hence the performer’s instruction is for her body to pass through her lebala onto her next life where she will continue performing. This further illustrates how performers can move between the sacred and secular, blurring the two opposites (Ciucci, 2017).
The following bodily voices are prominent in dikopelo, soprano, alto, tenor and high tenor (tinoro) and bass tunes (Phuthego, 2013). The high tenor sung by females, is one of the most notable and appreciated voices. There are clear musical roles within each choir such as the main composer even though other members may occasionally also compose songs. Matlapa-A-Leloto’s composer, Mr. Thibe Nyepezi, considers his compositions a natural talent or gift which is also spiritually inspired. When interviewed, he attests his ability to compose through a dream or in some instances, naturally where he could be guided by a theme at hand (T. Nyepedzi, 2016, Pers. Comm, 10-09-2018). In the past, the songs carried different messages ranging from current events in the village, country, and events concerning chiefs or rain. The messages also covered social ills, traditional medicines but in the past decade they are mainly satire. They may also include self-praise to warn or intimidate the other choir. The choirs are mandated to reply to each other through song (go arabana) based on the opponent’s message. The choice of songs can be influenced by several factors which can be the prior song by the competing choir as a good performance is judged by the choirs’ ability to respond to the other. The weather change can also trigger some songs, for example, a sudden rainfall can lead to songs such as ‘pula e ya na’ (it is raining).
The following are lyrics of a song composed by Matlapa-A-Leloto’s Senior Lecture for the 2016/17 performance with Moologe Choir:
The metaphor is that our choir, Matlapa-A-Leloto, will sting Moologe like a swamp of bees. The ground turns into a battle ground in performance where the youngsters are requested to move away as the battle is ready to be won. The weapons in the battle are musical with the hand gestures showing the opponents to move away.
Central to the bodily experience in dikopelo is the sound of the whistle (pchwerre) that is only blown by women. Classified under aerophones because the sound is produced through blowing air/wind, it is a common Tswana musical instrument traditionally made of horns or reed (Simako, 2009: 4). The modern whistle is made of metal, see Figure 10. It is easily available from various shops and has multiple functions such as in soccer games. Whistle (Pchwerre) (Setlhabi, 2017).
The whistle adds melody to most songs and due to this, several whistles are prepared for competitions as backups. I observed their gendered curation by observing where and how they are kept and their functionality. In Figure 11, I positioned myself near a whistle blower during performance and listened to its functionality as I sang. The author positioned near a whistle blower during a performance on 02-01-2016, Lelotong grounds. (Author requested someone from the audience to take the picture).
The whistle blower understands her critical role and the instrument’s. Each choir can have a dedicated whistle blower but due to its importance, different women can now interchange it throughout the competition. The one depicted on the picture plays the whistle from noon and when quizzed, she narrated that she felt her best then on a new uniform. The blowers also vary in tune as some can have short-repeated intervals while others use longer ones. The instrument is also used to end songs and in such cases, it is blown continuously to communicate with the performers. The stopping signal is also used to end a contested song from the competitor as per rules. These can be song repetitions as a choir cannot repeat a song during the competition. The other instance of stopping a song is due to intellectual property issues as a choir is prohibited from singing any of its competitor’s songs during performance. The whistle is therefore a “talking” instrument as it communicates to an ear which understands their aural message. A flywhisk is another common gendered bodily element used during performances and is carried by some males who swing it with the dance rhythms. The object on its own does not have a specific functionality in dikopelo but rather symbolizes masculine power as it is associated with male traditional doctors, royalty or elders.
Another vital element of the lived body experience in dikopelo is adornment because performance and dress are inseparable. Firstly, the pride of performers lies on their new uniform (paka) bought by choirs annually for each festival. Despite the fact that most performers are not formally employed, purchasing a new uniform is mandatory because adornment cements the collective identity of dress. Social groups can negotiate belonging through its aesthetics and for the choir members, the identity is solidified through the gendered uniforms in Figures 1, 2, 3, 4 and 8. Uniform and adornment become a shared value because of the significance tied to looks and similarity which “foster a sense of togetherness and create an air of exclusivity” (Jaimangal-Jones et al., 2015: 603).
Lived time at the grounds
The bodily experience of time occurs when performers are at their lebala singing and dancing. This is the moment that they anticipate; the performance time, the festive time and the celebratory time. For myself, the added layer was the fieldwork time as I collected data through the performances. Perhaps the unconditional engagement was merely “a (temporary) shift in perspective” (Honer and Hitzler 2015). In reality, it was a lived experience of dikopelo performance through continuous singing and dancing from midnight to sunset the following day in the four case studies. There are currently an estimated 10 concurrent performances or more on the first day of performance in Kgatleng District. Some unpublished performances can occur even a few days after Christmas and New Year on 28th December and 4th January respectively.
Once the performance time starts, it continues for almost seventeen hours with the two competing choirs alternating the grounds and failure to sing after the other choir is regarded as a loss. It is only in rare circumstances such as heavy thunderstorms and lightening that performance can be halted to protect performers. If it rains heavily without thunder, performance continues. A choir is therefore obliged to perform even if incomplete. If members need to rest, they may alternate but the stage performance does not end. Meal and bathing breaks are also taken alternatively by few choir members at a time. Time is also experienced through lyrics as songs signal the time of performance. The oldest songs are usually sung at night after the entry rituals when the spectators are few. Some songs are only sung at dawn with a common phrase of masa (dawn) to signal a new day and the afternoon ones are the most recent and new releases sparred for a larger audience. It is at this time that the opponent is reminded to give their all, for example, Matlapa-A-Leloto sing ‘e setse e chaile ntsha mokgwa’ (It is time to show your true colours) to signal the crucial time of the competition. This is the climax of the performance when the grounds are filled to capacity. Time in dikopelo is hence linked to natural elements such as the position of the sun. The rising of the sun ushers in new bodily experience on the lebala and the afternoon heat reminds performers to give their best. The performance time may seem long but the experience tends to be short if examined within the scope of only two performances in a year, home and away.
Another important dikopelo time marker is dress as the old uniform is worn at night and morning before the new one from noon to the end of the performance. Wearing a new uniform evokes joy and pride within the members, a time which no member wants to miss. The peak of performance therefore coincides with the new uniform and new songs as in Figure 2, which often determine the winner. The crowd is also at its maximum as no one wants to miss the “newness” when every performer shows their best. Even in the scorching heat of more than 35°C, performance continues. The sense of duty is demonstrated through constant performance until the end. As expected, the body tires after a prolonged period without sleep and rest but most performers still show their best up to the final hours.
As in the beginning when two choirs perform simultaneously, the same gesture marks the end as both choirs sing their final songs at the same time signaling the end of performance to the audience. Choirs also have specific end of performance rituals as is the case with Matlapa-A-Leloto who sit closely and sing ‘Tshabalala’ which sees some members sprinkling them with water as they bend backward in Figure 12. A recent picture of Matlapa-A-Leloto’s end of performance ritual (25-12- 2022) (Author, 2022).
It is a symbolic of cleansing common in African traditions and African Christian churches such as the Zion Christian Church (Bosire et al., 2021). The final performance attribute is judgment where the winner is pronounced. Contestations may occur regarding the judges who at times are covert supporters of one of the choirs, but at the end three judges from the crowd are selected. The criteria are those who have witnessed the whole performance and the choir with two or more votes wins. The verdict can also give the choirs an equal mark by all the judges.
Figure 13 shows Matlapa-A-Leloto and part of the audience listening to one the judges. A judge giving his verdict during Matlapa-A-Leloto vs Okanyatsa performance at Lelotong grounds, 24-12- 2017 (Setlhabi, 2017).
The judgement does not have formal rules and its spontaneousness is one of the highlights of the festival that has been handed over orally through time. Pronouncing the final verdict seems to give the judges a temporal divine power that cannot be questioned. The judgment is always respected as the intangible price of dikopelo performance.
The lived human relations
The last lifeworld existential is of lived human relations which addresses the way human relationships are formed or maintained either in relation to communication and experience through space or other forms of interactions (Van Manen, 1990). Dikopelo choirs are composed of families, relatives, friends and some friendships such as love affairs and marriage. Performers can have deep transcendence experiences and a realization of growth personally and their relations with others (Sager, 2006). Studies have shown the social and emotional benefits of choir membership more than the musical ability (Bartolome, 2018: 266, Judd and Pooley, 2014). The value that an individual places on dikopelo can be termed “suprapersonal” as it is a reflection of the collective value of Bakgatla within the self. It is the relationship of a person with their society and encourages an individual to become selfless and prioritize their community’s interests (Sager, 2006). Suprapersonal links personal and sociocultural identities leading to the individual to benefit from their selflessness (Sager, ibid). The link is elaborated in Blacking’s (1983) Venda music where a balance between satisfying self and communal concern is achieved. Simon (2005) explains that the act of singing together helps to create and reinforce more fundamental communal relationships (2005, 436).
The performance is for the other as much as it is for self and these two cannot be separated as they are interrelated, resulting in shared musical experiences based on the shared musical values. Failure to perform can be viewed as loss of musical value because while as much as an individual performs for their personal satisfaction, they are aware of the value of music to Bakgatla community. Dikopelo like in other African communities, belongs to the whole community (Arom, 1990: 149–150, Martín-Vivaldi, 2018: 60-61). The choir, as a social group, is also a support organ for its members during weddings, funerals and other celebrations. It is a norm for a choir to sing during a member’s funeral as with other types of musical groups like church choirs as shown in Figure 14. A funeral of a prominent Bodiakhudu Choir singer in Mochudi on 27-01-2018 (Setlhabi, 2018).
As a way of bidding farewell to their member, Bodiakhudu choir performs different songs emotionally including the deceased’s favourite. The one performed in Figure 14 was bidding the departed soul to fly off to rest as demonstrated by the hand gestures. The ladies’ lowered gesture was a sign of respect as they had lost one who stood beside them in performance, also demonstrated by a uniform that the deceased also wore for her burial, cementing her social identity (Durham and Frederick, 2002). They remained resilience in performance even in mourning at the graveyard, temporarily transforming it into their embodied space. This supports the view that in Botswana, the public space of death is characterized by concealments as well as disclosures of sentiments, bodily state and social relationships (Durhamand and Klaits ibid). I watched the departed performing into her grave through the musical farewell ritual and entered the afterlife to continue.
Dikopelo choirs have an audience composed of the general public, family members, non-singing choir members and even other choirs not performing on the same dates. This could be what Born (2011) refers to as the imagined community sharing musical and other identities. To the audience, Christmas and New Year are celebrated at dikopelong and there is no alternative way to celebrate. The phrase commonly used for each choir’s faithful followers is supporters who are a core component of the audience identifying with their choir. They also have their own uniform and their separate space within the grounds. Supporters can be ‘militant’ and hence the separation of the two sets of supporters of the performing choirs to avoid possible physical confrontations. As cheer leaders, the supporters’ mission is to cheer their choir to victory from the beginning to the end of the performance. I questioned a few of them on why they do not join their choirs since they have been supporters for many years. Their response was that they lack endurance and also prefer flexibility which performers do not have during the performance time. Their dikopelo experiences are therefore different based on the engagement with their spaces, time and relations with performers. As performers, we need their cheering as a form of validation that we have our own among the large crowds. This is why in some occasions, I left the performance to capture their presence and actions as in Figure 15, Matlapa-A-Leloto choir supporters and Figure 16, Mmakgomo Choir supporters. This in fact is another performance and competition within the main one where I observed supporters wanting to outperform each other. Such scenes caught the attention of the ethnographer in me and prompted me to leave my performing space to document what I term ‘concurrent performances’ which became another session to experience within my dikopelo experience. While I could observe while performing, I needed to ‘leave’ my performer side to photograph the scenarios. Matlapa-A-Leloto supporters dancing behind their choir, Matlapa-A-Leloto vs Mmakgomo at Lelotong grounds on 02-01-2019 (Setlhabi, 2019). Mmakgomo supporters dancing behind their choir, Matlapa-A-Leloto vs Mmakgomo at Lelotong grounds on 02-01-2019 (Author, 2019).
Conclusion: Fieldwork challenges
In this paper, dikopelo performance was discussed through my experiences of lived place, lived body, lived time and lived human relations. During the ritual, individuals construct their belonging through musical performance (Macdonald et al., 2002). Their activeness is demonstrated through their uniformity in gendered melody, dance and uniforms until the end of performance when they exit their embodied place and return to their personal homes to await another return. Throughout the year, the yearning is to return to their lebala signifying that they carry their performance spaces with them mentally. Munn (1996) frames the embodied place as that which is not only on the landscape but exists in the minds, customs and bodily practices of people. When Matlapa-A-Leloto members meet during the year, they echo the embodiment through phrases like ‘ke gopotse ko Lelotong’ (I am longing for Lelotong). As a performing ethnographer, my embodiment also continues through my longing for lebala. Each subjective bodily experience of performance in relation to space, time and other choir members, family and supporters remains entangled in my(our) memories until the return to our home at the end of the year.
I conclude with a reflection on various challenges encountered during my fieldwork, my ethnography at home during dikopelo. Firstly, the confrontation of my duality as an academic participant observer in a social group I belong to, is a repetition of others before in reference to my initiation, see (Reference). For as I write about my dikopelo performance as an academic, I also perform socially because I knew dikopelo prior to being an ethnographer. The two were intertwined and this position I have demonstrated as a central component of this paper’s knowledge production. I also acknowledge the privilege of being an academic which propelled me to write about our dikopelo culture as one of the few academic performers of what is often perceived to be ‘a lower social class’ type of music. The imagined divide mostly turns those from the ‘higher social class’ into spectators which led to an academic inquiry during one of the Departmental seminar presentations. When interrogated to address the social class difference between myself and my choir mates, I pointed to the numerous differences between all performers, emphasizing the essentiality of my roles to perform in dikopelo culturally and write academically. Secondly, the dikopelo experience discussed is both mine and ours, that is, my choir mates’. While my experience cannot be understood as collective because experience is subjective (Luvaas, 2019), we also share our performance experiences as members of Matlapa-A-Leloto when we make collective music at our lebala (grounds), Lelotong. We sing and dance rhythms collectively because dikopelo is never about an individual. My view being that, a complete separation of my performance experiences from those of others gives a flawed perspective. What is specifically mine, is the authorship and reflection, which is best understood in relation to my fellow performers, resulting in blurred boundaries between self and the others.
Thirdly, the experience of being the subject of photography with my choir mates also had its challenges during performance. There were instances where I requested a non-performing choir member to capture scenes and specifically myself in my field, performing as in Figures 1 and 11. This aroused guilt emotions, the feeling that I had absconded my ethnographer role to another person and there was a chance that the ‘photographer’ would not follow my instruction or see from my angle. As already stated, photography is subjective (Pink, 2001). I captured most pictures spontaneously as opportunities availed themselves based on certain activities and at times the intensity of my feelings. In Figure 2, my interest was in capturing a new uniform and the newness attitude of performers expressed through a new uniform song. My body firstly felt my newness as well then led me to step out to document that of others. Such occasions were not always easy for me as an ethnographer/performer. The obligation to capture images could suddenly arouse opposite ‘burdensome’ emotions as I knew I would miss the performance when I left the line. Without immediate options, I chose to do my best in specific dikopelo settings. Ethnographic researchers have to confront their emotions such as guilt caused by feelings of contaminating their research, being too close to informers or social settings, subjectivity instead of objectivity due to academic research expectations (Järventie-Thesleff et al., 2016; Wajsberg 2020; Öksüzoglu-Güven, 2017).
Finally, I always reflect on whether I have left the field, if I have to leave my fieldwork or if I will ever leave the field as ethnographic researchers are expected to ‘get out’ ‘leave’ or ‘disengage’ (Iversen, 2009). They are expected to exit and enter a post-fieldwork phase which can be complex due to the type of research and established relationships (Abbott and Scott, 2019; Mwale and Lintonbon, 2019). I started performing in 2012 and in three other annual performances after the timeframe of this research (2015-2019) in exception of 2020/2021 due to COVID 19 restrictions 3 , the first time in my memory to witness the cancellation of performances. Additionally, prior to dikopelo, I conducted ethnographic work at home during my initiation in bojale. Truthfully, I have not left the field, (see Reference) because even where I do not intend to write, I collect data through unplanned observations. The scenario of not leaving can also be applied to my research informants or those I have observed in other research as they view me as their own who is always conducting research among them. To Luvaas (2019), becoming an ethnographer does not end with the fieldwork and an ethnographer can never become what they were prior to their fieldwork.
I conclude that my own attempt to create distance from the field, which I dare declare, is always publishing after several years post-fieldwork as in this study. The distance is not meant to result in any objectivity but in my subjective interpretation of what my academic colleagues always ask me, “how do you remove yourself from your own cultural setting”, “Can’t you write about other communities other than your own?”. It is only an academic who does not anticipate the return to her performance ground who can attempt to answer objectively. For I am the ethnographer interviewing our choir mistress and her mother in Figure 5, the same performer in Figures 1 and 11 longing for my embodied place at Lelotong at the end of the year in between performances. There is also no pre-fieldwork or post-fieldwork in my dikopelo experiences but continued blurred boundaries between the two.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
