Dancing Orixa Dolls/Dolls of Axé: Honoring the Artistry of Dona Detinha de Xango

By Margit Edwards; Linda Yudin

“My dolls [that I collected] dance in the house at night. They bring the Axé with me from Bahia. They protect us. They are beautiful and educational. They have been one of my most important references in the creation of orixa costumes for the stage, they are a point of reference for the vast orixa stories. The importance of cloth, dressing your gods in their finest cloths. I have been dancing and dialoguing with these dolls since 1987.” -Linda Yudin

Dona Detinha¹, AKA Valdete Ribeiro da Silva, affectionately known as Detinha de Xangô, Oba Gesi, was an Orixa doll maker in Salvador Bahia, Brazil, starting in the 1970s. Her dolls represent the pantheon of Yoruba deities called Orixa, honored and celebrated by devotees and initiates of the Candomblé religion. The dolls are not ceremonial objects but, according to Dona Detinha, are amulets that carry the axé (pronounced ah-shé) of the house of Ilê Axé Opo Afonja. Axé, in Yoruba-descended spiritual traditions like Candomblé, is the power/life force (from the orixa) to create communal balance. Axé is the potential energy of life, and axé protects you. Dona Detinha’s artistry and craftsmanship have been singled out as exemplary of the black Bahian women who are central to the creative cultural and spiritual life of Salvador, Bahia, Brazil.² Orixa symbology and iconography proliferate throughout Salvador. Dona Detinha’s unique dolls are another exquisite way that the Orixas are expressed in the life of Bahia.

Based on many years of association and friendship with Dona Detinha and drawing on extensive interviews with her conducted at the Sacatar Foundation in 2012, Linda Yudin can pass on Dona Detinha’s story and share how she came to make these dolls and how they impacted Dona Detinha’s life. Many dolls have left Dona Detinha’s home workshop in Salvador and been distributed worldwide through a vast network of enthusiasts and supporters. What follows stems from a series of conversations between Linda Yudin, dance ethnologist, co-founder/co-artistic director of Los Angeles-based dance company Viver Brasil, Daughter of Terreirio Ilê Asé Ojisé Oludumaré aka Casa do Mensageiro, and Dr. Margit Edwards, African diaspora dance and theatre scholar, core faculty in the Theatre Arts Program at the University of Pennsylvania, and, as a founding company member, has been a dancer, choreographer, and board member of Viver Brasil. Linda and Margit have been dance friends and colleagues for almost 30 years!

A photo from Linda Yudin’s collection of Orixa dolls representing Oxum (Orixa of Sweet Waters) and Ibejis (the twins, Orixas of human duality and happiness).

A conversation with Orixa doll collectors Linda Yudin and Dr. Margit Edwards.

Linda’s Orixa doll story:

LY: I purchased my first Orixa doll made by Dona Detinha de Xangô in 1987 at the Mercado Modelo in Salvador, Bahia. I was fascinated that this beautifully crafted cloth doll, dressed in beautiful white lace with a matching white, lace, turban, could have so much energy coming through it, representing a Black female religious practitioner of the sacred Afro-Brazilian Candomblé practice of Salvador, Bahia. Dona Detinha’s signature label included the double-headed ax symbolizing the Orixa Xangô (god of thunder, lightning, and justice, grand warrior, and one of the kings of the dance) with her name, Dona or Mae Detinha, inscribed inside the ax, with ‘Opo Afonja’ written on the right blade and the word ‘Axé’ on the left, was placed on the upper back of this beautiful cloth doll. Little did I know that some years later, I would become a collector of these sacred orixa dolls. According to Detinha, “these orixa dolls are not just dolls, they are amulets that carry axé, (the divine sacred energy force of balance) from this temple, Terreiro Ilê Axé Opo Afonja.” I would also have the immense privilege of having a loving familial relationship with her and several members of her family, including one of her daughters, Euripides, and a very close friendship with her daughter-in-law, Bezita d’Oxum who was one of Dona Detinha’s most important disciples and eventually would carry the tradition on after Dona Detinha passed on March 2, 2014, at the age of 86.

I returned to Bahia in 1989 and visited the Maua Institute, where I found a more extensive collection of the Orixa dolls made by Dona Detinha. Once again, I was blessed by the energy that these dolls possessed. The immense attention to detail depicts the Yoruba pantheon of Orixas/gods and goddesses that inhabit the body of the initiated practitioner of those chosen to receive the energy of these divine forces of nature. I was very curious to meet Dona Detinha, as the way to her was its own dance of patience. There is a saying in Portuguese, “tudo tem seu tempo,” “everything has its own time.” In the mid-1990s, after a long search, I found out that my very own Afro-Brazilian dance Mestre/master teacher, Mestre King, knew her, and he took me to meet Dona Detinha at her home located on the grounds of Ilê Axé Opo Afonja in the neighborhood of Sao Gonçalo do Retiro/Cabula. This would be my first time visiting Salvador’s oldest and most traditional Candomblé temple.

In Brazil, the spiritual traditions of Candomblé, an African-Brazilian religious complex, were formed by the intersection of the Bantu people from west central Africa who worship the Nkissis, spirits of the natural world practiced in the Candomblé Angola; the Yoruba people from West Africa who worship the Orixa in the Ketu/Yoruba Candomblé, and the Gege people of Dahomey/Benin who venerate Voduns, when they were brought together in the slave quarters of rural plantations and urban settings during the transatlantic slave trade. Candomblé is practiced in a terreiro; specially designated initiates function as vessels that embody the Orixa spirits in ceremony through trance possession. A terreiro can include the temple where the rituals and ceremonies occur and spaces that hold the shrines for each deity. Terreiros in Bahia are found in both urban and rural settings, both large and small. There are terreiros with enough land to house the members who wish to live there, like Ilê Axé Opo Afojnja, founded in 1910 by Mae Aninha. Ilê Axé Opo Afonja is considered one of the three most important Yoruba Candomblé temples in Salvador, Bahia. It was established in 1910 on a large plot of land in the neighborhood of Sao Goncalo de Retiro (location: R. de São Gonçalo, 557—São Gonçalo do Retiro). During Dona Detinha’s life, the formidable and transformative Mãe Stella de Oxóssi encouraged Dona Detinha to establish an Orixa dollmaking tradition.

We parked Mestre King’s car and went directly to Mae Detinha’s home to meet her. There was much laughter when we arrived as he had not visited her for some time. He shared with Detinha that I had a serious interest in the orixa dolls, that I was a serious student of Afro-Brazilian culture and was in Bahia to continue my Afro-Brazilian dance training with him, and that I wanted to purchase her dolls. I politely said I wanted to buy the complete collection like I had seen at the Maua Institute those many years ago. I received a look of what I thought might be either distrust or perhaps disbelief that this white woman from the US was so interested.

She asked me what I was going to do with the dolls. I said I would take them home and lovingly place them throughout my home because they were so beautiful and meaningful, and I would treat them with love and respect and as symbols of my love for Afro-Bahian culture. After quite some time, she called Bezita on the phone to come down from her home on the second floor and assist with my order. A few weeks later, I returned to Dona Detinha’s home, and there were all of the dolls, 18 in total, displayed on her table in the living room. I was enchanted.

She then sat down with me and shared that I was taking home dolls representing how the Orixas dressed in her Candomblé temple. She shared a few stories and then asked me to sit closer to her, explaining that these dolls are containers of sacred energy. Later, when Viver Brasil, my dance company, began conducting study programs in Bahia, she talked about the Orixa dolls as amulets and that each doll carries the axé of Ilê Axé Opo Afonja. She then took my head in her hands and touched her forehead to mine. Dona Detinha possessed an electricity of deep respect that she quietly and lovingly shared.

And this is how I began my collection of almost 100 dolls over the years.

For me, Dona Detinha was not only the Orixa dollmaker, but she became an informal teacher of the Candomblé, sharing how Orixa is powerful beings of energy and beauty, a role that she filled for many who came to sit with her at her home. She was well known as a pillar of knowledge of the power of the Orixa and a great Orixa storyteller. When I asked to record an interview with her as a visiting artist at the Sacatar Foundation, she was initially very hesitant. I came to her in Salvador, and she graciously and quietly shared some of her thoughts, a few orixa chants, and a grand dose of wisdom, concise and direct. I thank the gods dearly for steering me on a path of knowing. She is one of a group of Black Bahian women whose lived knowledge of Orixa tradition would be essential to my years as a practicing dance ethnologist, researcher, and teacher of Afro-Brazilian dance. I loved Dona Detinha dearly as I love her daughter, Eurides, and her daughter-in-law, Bezita.

I was in Bahia in February 2014 when Dona Detinha became very ill. I felt compelled to visit her at the hospital. I appreciated that the family permitted me to visit. I held her hand and sang songs for Orixa Oxum. I wasn’t sure she heard me, and then she squeezed my hand. I will never forget that moment of connection.

By the time of her death in March 2014, I had 2 complete sets of the Orixa dolls. I also had a few custom dolls that she made that were not part of the Orixa tradition, including a Caboclo doll³, a doll representing the sisterhood of the Boa Morte⁴, various Bahianas in floral prints skirts with fabric that I purchased, and dolls that represented the female elders of the Candomblé with whom I have had a very close relationship: the late Iyalorixa Alice da Cruz, my first spiritual mother of Terreiro Oya Padé; the late Iyalorixa Stella of Terreiro Ilê Axé Opo Afonja (mentioned above); the late Joselita “Zelita” Moreira da Cruz Silva of Saubara, Bahia, my second mom in my life, the culture bearer of samba and many other popular dance forms, also an Iyalorixa; Iyalorixa Mainha of Terreiro Ilê Axé Ewewe Urwa, is one of Viver Brasil’s costume designers, she just turned 83; and the grand storyteller and holder of an honorary PhD from UFBA (Universidade Federale da Bahia), Iya Agba Cici, Nancy de Souza e Silva of Terreiro Ilê Axé Opo Aganju who has become an influential teacher and cultural consultant to Viver Brasil, and who will soon be 84 years old (and who was introduced to me by Margit). (See images of the dolls below.)

Dolls representing the elder women of the Candomblé that have been important in Linda’s life.

I finally had to give up that first doll. I told her (Dona Detinha) that they were getting so dirty. I don’t put them under glass. I want to take the clothes off and wash them. She said, “You should not try to wash or replace the clothing. The doll has served its purpose. You can offer the doll to the water, especially if you are not enjoying the doll anymore; give the doll back to nature.” I was rather shocked that this was her answer. At the time, I obediently listened and acted. Upon my return to LA, I drove to the Pacific Ocean in Santa Monica. I told the doll that I was following Dona Detinha’s instructions and asked permission from Orixa Iemanja (the goddess of the ocean) to accept the doll. I placed the doll in the ocean as the waves came toward me. I walked away and did not look back.

Today, I feel terrible. I wish that I kept her, but I was following instructions.

Also, I am no longer concerned with the wear and tear of the clothing or if the dolls are dusty. The more I look at them, the more I realize that the older dolls are as unique and filled with axé as the new dolls dressed in more elaborate fabrics.

ME: What can you tell us about Dona Detinha and the development of the Orixa dolls?

LY: Dona Detinha began making dolls in the mid-1970s. Dona Detinha descended from a long line of Candomblé practitioners. She was the niece of the late Iyalorixa Ondina Pimentel, an orixa storyteller and dollmaker. She was a revered member of the Ilê Axé Opo Afonja and was bestowed the title of Oba Gessi.

Soon after starting her craft, Dona Detinha enlisted her daughter-in-law Maria Izabela Santos da Silva, aka Bezita d’Oxum (Bezita), to help her make the Orixa dolls. Bezita was by her side, assisting Dona Detinha in completing the dolls and learning the craft. When Dona Detinha died on March 2, 2014, at 86 years old, Bezita continued the practice for several years from her home at Ilê Axé Opo Afonja. Sadly, today, Bezita has severe arthritis in her hands and arms and is no longer able to make the dolls. Dona Detinha’s supporters and collectors are concerned that the practice may end with her.

The initial idea for the dolls came from the late Mãe Stella de Oxossi, who wanted Dona Detinha to create new income streams for herself and her family.

ME: Let’s insert a bit of cultural and historical context here… The 1970s and 80s marked the Brazilian “Black Power” moment or, at the time, Black Brazilian activists and artists used the term Negritude, pronounced neh – gree – tu – djee.⁵ Negritude was developed in the 1930s by Leopold Sedar Senghor, Leon Gontran Damas, and Aimé Césaire, les trois peres of anti-colonial African liberation movements. The term encapsulates the idea of foundational Africanness as a unifying concept for continental Africans that extended to the African diaspora. Negritude can be understood as a precursor to the embrace of an Afrocentric Blackness promoted by Black Power movements in North America. In Francophone Africa and Lusophone Brazil, Negritude spurred a celebration of African heritage, which encouraged a flourishing of arts, culture, African-based religious practices, and collective engagement. In keeping with this spirit, Mãe Stella in Salvador da Bahia was a crucial figure in the “de-syncretization” of Candomblé. Insisting that the Candomblé no longer needed the legitimizing mask of Catholicism. Dona Detinha’s art and craft flourished under Mae Stella’s self-empowerment program based on the cultivation of Afro-Brazilian cultural practices.

LY: Dona Detinha once mentioned to me that she never played with dolls as a child. She affirmed that the Orixa dolls were not toys but art pieces that functioned as powerful amulets.

A complete set of the dolls consisted of 18+ Orixa dolls that manifest on the material plane or are embodied by designated initiates through trance during a Candomblé ceremony. One could make special requests for specific dolls or collections of dolls. Each Orixa has multiple aspects or iterations of their energies, so one could request a set of dolls representing all of the elements of Obatala, for example. But you have to know what to ask for. Bezita let me know that doll collectors were well-educated in Candomblé and would request unique sets of dolls. And I noticed that, for example, the Iemanja dolls were not the same. They each had something different about them that represented the various aspects of Iemanja.

ME: Yes, okay, let’s unpack some of this. First, can you list the 18 dolls? Then, let’s talk about how the Orixas manifest in a Candomblé ceremony. And do all 18 Orixas manifest in every terreiro at every ceremony? How does that work?

LY: Here is a list of the Orixa that manifest in Brazilian Candomblé and have been made into dolls by Dona Detinha and Bezita:

Exu, the Orixa of communication; Ogum, the god of iron, war, and technology; Oxossi, the hunter; Logunede, hunter/fisherman, forever youthful, son of Oxossi and Oxum; Ossain, the king of the leaves and herbal medicine; Omolu/Obaluaiye is the god of smallpox and epidemic diseases; Oxumaré is the rainbow in the sky and the serpent on the earth; Iroko, Orixa of time, longevity and ancestry; Xango, the Orixa of justice, protects thunder and lightning, the grand warrior; Iemanja, the ocean goddess; Oxum is the owner of the sweet waters and gold; Oba, the quintessential female warrior; Oya/Iansã, the Orixa of winds, storms who connects us to the ancestors; Ewa, the goddess of potential and possibility, Nanã, the primordial mother, Orixa of the marshes; Oxaguiã, youthful warrior from the Obatala family; Oxalufão, Orixa of peace, wise elder. There are also the ibejis Orixas, twins, the energy of prosperity and play.⁶

Dona Detinha also made the Orixa dolls, who only wear white: Onilé, Okô, Ajalá, Ajê, and Orunmilá. Temples worship them through rituals and sacred food offerings; however, these Orixa do not manifest in the bodies of the Candomblé initiate.

It’s important to say that Dona Detinha’s dolls were not ritual objects but secular representations of the deities that function as amulets. These dolls are representations of sacred figures to be admired and enjoyed. They are a creative invention not inherent to the Candomblé practice. “Official dollmaker” does not have a religious role in Candomblé.

ME: Have other terreiros started making dolls?

LY: I am unfamiliar with other Candomblé practitioners or artists making orixa dolls.

Dressing the Orixa dolls:

Sartorially, the dolls represent the Orixas as they are presented at Ilê Axé Opo Afonja; the worshippers’ ceremonial Orixa clothing inspires the doll’s clothing. The sacred implements, often made from sheet metal, wood, cowrie shells, and raffia, resemble the sacred clothing of the Orixa.⁷

As mentioned above, Dona Detinha engaged Bezita to assist with the creation of the dolls because of Bezita’s interest in learning and carrying on the tradition. Dona Detinha and Bezita sewed the ceremonial clothes that dressed the dolls and crafted the symbolic implements, while someone else made the black cotton-covered bodies.

ME: While working on this article, Linda and I realized we never asked who made the dolls’ bodies. This revealed the specific interests of dance ethnologists and performing artists rather than those of another doll maker. Another doll maker or collector would have asked a whole different set of questions.

LY: The choice of fabric for the doll’s clothing depended on what was available at the time. More recently, African fabrics have become abundant. The earlier fabrics were big floral prints, different from African-style prints. Today, the markets and the fabric stores are filled with African fabrics, a variety of brocades, satins, and many Candomblé dresses/costumes are now made from imported African prints. The availability of African prints has exploded in the marketplace. The international and national markets have become more accessible because of the Internet. Now you can find anything you want to wear for the Orixas ceremony and for someone to dress the dolls. It would have been interesting to see what Dona Detinha and Bezita would have made with the availability of African fabrics.

ME: What about the Afro-Brazilian fabric designs of J. Cunha worn by the Bloco Afros during carnival? Didn’t Dona Detinha and Bezita make some dolls using that fabric?⁸

LY: Yes, I asked her to make some specialty dolls. She made two Bloco Afro dolls using the Bloco Afro Ilê Aiyé fabric and our Viver Brasil signature bloco afro design. She also used the bloco afro fabric on an Omolu doll, but I don’t know why. Maybe she ran out of fabric. Or perhaps it was a choice. She also made a Afoxé Filhos de Gandhi doll⁹.

ME: I once accompanied the African American scholar Daniel Dawson to visit Dona Detinha. He was bringing her a roll of copper sheeting, which was costly. Dona Detinha needed these materials to make some of the implements.

ME: What is/was the economic impact on Dona Detinha? How much did the dolls cost? I remember it was approximately US$ 55.

LY: So humbly priced. I believe that Americans from the US were the largest buyers of the dolls… Bezita d’Oxum often mentioned that Brazilians did not purchase the dolls in the quantity that non-Brazilians consumed them. We encouraged the participants in Viver Brasil’s annual cultural immersion program, Dancing at the Source, which began in 1997, to purchase dolls. The program’s first week always included visiting Opo Afonja to witness the multifunctional role of this spiritual space and to visit and buy Orixa dolls from Dona Detinha. In those days, our dear friend and tour leader Paula Santos, a family friend of Dona Detinha, was always permitted to show us around the large compound and share her knowledge of the Terreiro. Following the tour, we visited Dona Detinha’s home to visit with her and purchase Orixa dolls. Being in her home was both a party and a class; we shared a meal, family members joined us, and she told stories. Once the table was cleared of the delicious lunch, Bezita would set up a beautiful display of the dolls. We were in awe of these extraordinarily sacred art pieces many of us purchased to take to our homes. Dona Detinha and Bezita had Orixa dolls prepared to buy and took orders for special requests. According to Bezita d’ Oxum, US tourists of various professions, including artists, dancers, musicians, designers, gallerists, health care workers, writers, and spiritual practitioners of African diaspora spiritual traditions, as well as independent researchers, have been Dona Detinha’s most significant collectors.

At the end of our visits, Dona Detinha sent us home with her personal ritual of sharing her axé by touching her forehead to the forehead of each group member. I always felt a surge of electricity run through me the moment our foreheads touched. I felt so much gratitude for her generosity of spirit and knowledge-sharing with our program participants.

Margit’s Orixa doll story:

ME: I have had my Orixa dolls for nearly twenty years now, and they are still full of Axé and “well-loved.” Oya Iansã is the first doll I bought; the last was a pair of Ibeji (twins). They live in my house with some other dolls and cherished artworks, including a pair of dolls from Africa, I think Nigeria or Ghana – my father gave them to my sisters and me when we were very young back in the 70s when he first began to travel to the continent. They are a man and a woman who have also been very “well-loved.” But they are meant to be played with, unlike the Orixa dolls.

Dona Detinha’s dolls are intricate and beautiful, and lots of care is needed to maintain them. Like Linda, I never cover them under glass or in a closed display case; they always live out amongst all the other dolls and artworks. They live and breathe, so they get dusty, and my cat sometimes knocks them off the shelf. I try to group them together because they look forlorn when left alone. But maybe I am being too sentimental or romantic; they are not ceremonial objects after all, but they are filled with Axé and blessed.

I have, at different times, attempted to clean and repair them, but they are quite fragile. Sometimes, I’ll wipe them with a damp cloth to remove the dust; other times, I have re-tied the bows that have come loose, finding small stains or tears as I do. I have also re-pinned the thin gold chains that make up the veil on the female orixas and tried in vain to rescue Ogum’s feathers from the jaws of my ever-present cat. Both of my Oxum’s have lost an earring each… I thought, well, I could give one to the other, and at least one would have a complete set, but that didn’t seem right to use one for parts. My attempts to repair them have shown me they are cleverly put together, but the materials are not long-lasting.

The costumes or clothing are made from a variety of fabrics, lots of lace, velvet, and shimmery lamé; some African print fabrics are used. The accessories are fashioned from thin sheets of tin and brass made to look like their symbolic implements: a cutlass for Ogun, a double-headed ax for Xango, delicate fish shapes for Iemanja and Oxum, and the mirrors. Fragile and intricate chains and tiny beads adorn their necks and wrists as necklaces and bracelets. Tiny metal filigree is bent into the shape of earrings or combined with beads to adorn their crowns, wristbands, and belts. A variety of trims and ribbons create the distinctive extra-large bows on the backs of the dresses and the headpieces of the female Orixas. Feathers and raffia complete the costumes of Ogum, Logunede, and Oxossi. Oxossi has a jaunty cowboy hat with distinctive feathers sticking out of the side…

Many of the accessories are fastened with straight pins that have been driven deeply into the doll’s body. I don’t know what the dolls’ structure is made of, but the bodies’ surfaces are covered in rough black cotton. These are black dolls, after all, Afro-Brazilian dolls representing Afro-Brazilian deities.

A selection of Margit’s Orixa doll collection: Iemanja, Oxossi, Oya Iansan, Oxum

How we know what we know

ME: I learned about Orixa dolls crafted by Dona Detinha through Linda, who had been collecting the dolls for many years before our meeting. In 1998, I met Dona Detinha through Linda as part of a dance and music workshop group organized by Viver Brasil and led by Linda Yudin. A visit to the dollmaker was on the itinerary, and we were given a brief introduction to Dona Detinha’s life and work before meeting her at home. Subsequently, I had the opportunity to visit Dona Detinha on more private visits with friends and colleagues; the aforementioned African diaspora scholar Daniel Dawson was one. Through these visits, I gathered knowledge about this great artist.

While Orixa dolls are the subject of this conversation, many people encounter Orixas as danced performances or spiritual presences that dance. In the temple or ceremony, the Orixas manifest in the bodies of initiates in response to the call of the singers and the drums. This danced spiritual practice is the foundation for the theatrical practice of dancing the Orixas in folkloric performances and carnival processions and is the inspiration for a contemporary Afro-Brazilian dance genre.

ME: How have you incorporated the dolls into your life/work?

LY: My dolls live throughout almost every room in my house. Metaphorically speaking, they even dance at night.

The dolls have often provided creative inspiration for the way in which Viver Brasil creates Orixa costumes for our stage performances. I have used them as educational tools for the college classroom to demonstrate the visual elements that represent each orixa quality, including the costume and its colors, its metals, and cowrie shell adornments. Oxum, Oxossi, Ogum, and Exu dolls sit on a shrine where they are celebrated and prayed to. The dolls also serve as decorative guardians; they are alive and beautiful and are placed throughout our Afro-Bahian art-filled home. When Iyá Agba Cici visits in LA, she often rearranges some of the dolls as she believes their energy needs to be shifted.

Orixa dolls/Black Dolls?

ME: In the last part of this conversation, I’d like to talk a bit about the Orixa dolls as “Black dolls.” Do Brazilians think of the Orixa dolls as “Black dolls?”

LY: I have never asked a Brazilian how they define “Black dolls. However, Dona Detinha has always stated that they represent “us.”

Yes, they are Black dolls! They are representations of Afro-Brazilian deities themselves and reflect the way in which Terreiro Ilê Axé Opo Afonja dress and honor their Orixas. It is understood that the Orixa are African and black, so yes, the dolls are black.

ME: Is there a built-in understanding that these dolls embody Afro-Brazilian blackness, specifically?

LY: Yes, these dolls, Dona Detinha’s dolls, represent the Orixa, represent Afro-Brazilian’s ancestral memory and contemporary embodiment of African divinities called Orixa. These dolls represent Afro-Brazilian blackness because they are made by an Afro-Brazilian woman steeped in an Afro-Brazilian religion. These dolls and the spiritual figures they represent exist because of the history of enslavement of African people in Brazil. That story is remembered through the Candomblé. Candomblé became a home, a place of refuge, a place of creativity, and a place to self-identify; the dolls embody that concept of Afro-Brazilian self-sustainability.

ME: Yes, but Orixas are not exclusive to Black Brazil, right? Candomblé promotes itself as inclusive, not exclusive. And, Brazil’s definition of itself as a racially harmonious society is still part of the national mythology? Are Dona Detinha’s Orixa dolls part of the current conversation about Brazilian blackness?

LY: I mean, we could talk about this through the idea of Negritude and the economy of the terreiro, of recognizing that folks from within the Afonja community have talents and skills that Mãe Stella recognized and cultivated. She encouraged this [doll-making practice], [so that] perhaps this (holding up a Xango doll) would be a symbol of understanding Candomblé… The dolls became symbols of Orixa worship, and it’s a beautiful thing! They were educating all of us and, perhaps, demystifying this idea of Orixa. Candomblé is a way of worshiping, and this way of worshiping brings balance, protection, and healing. And the dolls are so beautiful that, you know, it shifts energy. For me, there is no doubt that these black dolls are energy shifters.

I ask myself, is this the end of this tradition at Ilê Axé Opo Afonja? Why hasn’t anyone wanted to take this up? The tradition has been carried on since Detinha passed in 2014 and continued up to the pandemic. There are artists that represent Afro-Brazilian culture and experience through fashion, visual arts such as ceramics, and public art, amazing works! It is happening in other artistic practices. The Blocos Afros, with J. Cunha and many others, continue to create stunning representations of Orixa… the representation of Orixa in Carnaval is greater than ever before. Historically, Samba school presentations have shied away from Orixa themes, and now they are central themes in Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo. But I just haven’t seen much doll production.

I will cherish the memories of a deeply spiritual and loving friendship that lives through the continued axé that warms my home and brings balance and joy into my life. Olorum Modupe Dona Detinha!

Margit’s Orixa dolls:

Linda’s Dolls (A selection)

Oke, Onile, Orunmila, Oke, Oxalufan, Aje

Dr. Margit Edwards, Lecturer in the Theatre Arts Program at the University of Pennsylvania, received her doctorate in Theatre and Performance at The Graduate Center, CUNY. Her doctoral dissertation, titled The Village on the Stage: Dramaturgies of Modernity in African Dance, is grounded in her current research interests in 20th & 21st century Africana theatre and performance, theories of coloniality and modernity, diaspora studies, and transcultural dance dramaturgy. She holds a Master of Arts degree in Dance Ethnography from UCLA and a Master of Fine Arts in Experimental Choreography from UC Riverside. Dr. Edwards has been a dancer, choreographer, dance researcher, actor, director, arts administrator with artworxLA (The HeArt Project), and arts educator. She is proud to be a member of the collective of artists, scholars, and cultural activists that is Contours: Arte Calle. Recent publication: “African Performance in the Feast of St. Francis Xavier in 17th century Luanda, Angola” in The Routledge Companion to African American Theatre and Performance (2018).

LINDA YUDIN (MA, Dance Ethnology, UCLA; Co-Founder/Co-Artistic Director, Viver Brasil) has devoted 35 years + to researching, performing, and teaching Afro-Brazilian dance. Her work is embodied in Viver Brasil's 21st-century expression of Afro-Brazilian dance theater and community engagement. Her teaching practice includes a deep regard for honoring the wisdom of her elder and contemporary teachers. She has served on the dance faculties of Santa Monica College and UCLA, was a member of Dance/USA’s board of trustees, was an artist in residence at the Sacatar Foundation, and was recognized by the Brazilian Consulate/Los Angeles for her commitment to creating a living bridge between LA and Salvador, Bahia.

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Dona Detinha de Xangô was called several names. Some referred to her as Dona Detinha, some as Mãe Detinha and in the Temple she was referred to as Detinha de Xango, Oba Gesi. In this conversation we will refer to her lovingly as Dona Detinha.
2
Patrick Polk, Arthur Roberto Conduru, Sabrina Gledhill, and Randal Johnson, eds. Axé Bahia: The Power of Art in an Afro-Brazilian Metropolis. Fowler Museum at UCLA, 2018.
3
A caboclo is an Brazilian indigenous spirit incorporated into the African Brazilian spiritual complex.
4
Boa Morte refers to the Irmandade da Boa Morte/Sisterhood of the Good Death. A unique religious sisterhood in Cachoeira, a town in the northeast of the state of Bahia. See Sheila Walker’s article “The feast of good death: An Afro-Catholic emancipation celebration in Brazil.” Sage 3, no. 2 (1986): 27.
5
Please see the works of Nilma Lino, Denise Ferreira da Silva, Kabenguela Munanga, and Cida Bento.
6
See Linda Yudin’s article “Orixas:The Divine Forces of Nature” (November/December 2003 Year 2 No. 9). Request access to the article from the author.
7
Each Candomblé terreiro dresses their Orixa in unique ways that are mandated by the house, but with certain common elements that are evident across the many terreiros.
8
To see the gorgeous work of J. Cunha, see O Universo de J. Cunha, Editora Corrupio 2016 @j.cunha_oficial
9
“Brazilian afoxé founded by port dockers from Salvador on February 18, 1949 . With approximately 10 thousand members, it became the largest afoxé of the Carnival in Salvador, the municipality and capital of the state of Bahia. Made up exclusively of men and inspired by the principles of non–violence and peace of the Indian activist Mahatma Gandhi, the group brings the tradition of African-based religion to the rhythm of agogô in its ijexá chants in the Yoruba language. They used white sheets and towels as costumes, to symbolize Indian clothing.” https://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Filhos_de_Gandhy

For more information on this important Bloco Afro see https://www.instagram.com/gandhyoficial/?hl=en