Analysis of Creative and Identity Processes Among Mapuche Women Weavers in the Araucanía Region

Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 https://doi.org/10.1007/s12124-018-9456-4

REGULAR ARTICLE

Analysis of Creative and Identity Processes among Mapuche Women Weavers in the Araucanía Region

Ramiro Gonzalez1,2 & Pedro Mege2

Published online: 3 September 2018 # Springer Science+Business Media, LLC, part of Springer Nature 2018

Abstract The Mapuche practice of weaving has occupied a transcendental role for this community in its system of symbolic representation. These textiles involve different elements of cultural identity for the community, for the wearers of the garments and, most of all, for their creators. This article analyzes the creation context in which the Mapuche textile tradition brings into tension different aspects of cultural identity and innovation within the construction of cultural memory. It examines two principal scenarios that arose from ethnographic work: 1) selection of materials; 2) preparation and fabrication. The findings show that, in both scenarios, the new rules emerging from religious and commercial concerns in the present-day context of these weavers are linked with the diverse positions taken by each woman. We discuss how these new rules are associated with different processes of cultural identity in this group of Mapuche women.

Keywords Mapuche . Indigenous . Creative . Identity. Weavers . Memory

This article presents a study of the psychological processes associated with the creation of Mapuche textiles, in which the weaving tradition and aspects of identity and innovation come into tension in construction of cultural memory. One of this article’s goals is to delve into, from the perspective of cultural or social psychology, the psychological processes tied to creativity while also accounting for the traditional or historical context in which the artisanal creation of these products occurs. Research by Patricia Greenfield (2004) on women weavers in Chiapas provides an important precedent for how social processes come into tension with creative processes, and hints at or allows for speculation about the relationship of these processes to the ethnic identity of this group of weavers.

* Ramiro Gonzalez [email protected]

1 Facultad de Psicología, Universidad San Sebastián, Lientur 1457, Concepción 4080871, Chile 2 Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, Avda. Vicuña Mackenna 4860, Macul, Santiago, Chile Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 615

The Mapuche are the largest indigenous group in Chile. The most recent censuses indicate that the Metropolitan region is home to the largest population of Mapuche, followed by the Araucanía region (INE 2002), even though historically they have mostly resided in the south. There are diverse hypotheses on the origins of these southern inhabitants of Chile: some involve migrations from the Amazon or Chaco regions, and others even propose a link between the Mapuche and Tiahuanaco cultures (Bengoa 2003). Recently, these hypotheses have come under scrutiny due to archaeo- logical finds at Monte Verde (near the city of Puerto Montt) that date to around 13,000 years before present, which would make the site the oldest human settlement in Chile (Dillehay 2004). The Mapuche communities known as the Mapuche- Pehuenche and Mapuche-Lafquenche reside in the Araucanía region, in the provinces of Cautín and Malleco (which are where the cases we shall discuss in this article are located). In Chilean society, these communities are popularly categorized under the broad term of BMapuche.^ According to Bengoa and Caniguan (2011), in recent years the Mapuche population has undergone a profound process of Bmodernization/ integration,^ characterized by a very strong Bpro-state clientele^ relationship. For this group, its textile practice has played a transcendental role, one which involves different elements of identity for the community itself, for the wearers of the textiles, and, most of all, for their creators. The textile practice has always been in charge of the Mapuche women, they are the specialists (Mege 1990). In other Mapuche arts, for example jewelry, men have participated in greater numbers. It is important to note that, historically, weaving was a practice reserved for wealthy women who had excess time from their domestic chores (Mege 1987). Currently, every Mapuche woman, independent of her economic level and social hierarchy, is dedicated to knitting and does it with a commercial sense more than for pleasure. At present, the scenario in which this activity occurs involves a complex web of tensions between identity and creativity, due to major changes that Mapuche weaving is undergoing. The rules of creation and the contexts in which textiles are circulated differ from the typical manner of doing things in the past, which introduces new identity configurations that, when manifested, are not without conflict and contradictions for the authors of the textiles (Gonzalez and Haye 2015). The artisanal practice of these weavers currently occurs in a scenario of change, where variables of identity come into play and offer diverse configurations. Richard Sennett (2009) notes that the work of an artisan implies a special life commitment to the task, and also to the materials which it employs. In line with Sennett, we consider that such a commitment entails different degrees of identification; moreover, based on this, it allows us the opportunity to observe, through the work, the diverse manners in which creation interacts with cultural identity. In this case, we speculate that these women use weaving as a special means of creating Bmemory,^ which encompasses a great deal of their identity construction. The present context of Mapuche weavers, addressed in our ethnography, allowed us to observe a scene of conflicting creation among these women. They debated among themselves over whether to maintain a method of creation that is more in line with ancient weavers, or to adjust to new rules that contradict those old ways. These contradictions produce conflicts on both an individual and a group level. At the individual level, weavers are faced with the decision between one method or another, generating different levels of tension depending on their degree of identification with Mapuche culture. At the group level, those weavers more bound to traditional ways 616 Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 spurn the work of modern weavers, accusing them of making exaggerated changes in style. On the other hand, for the modern weavers, these recently learned rules permit them a kind of rapprochement with part of their Mapuche identity that was denied or hidden for years. These recognitions and repudiations of identity are articulated through different stereotypes emerging from changes in their religious beliefs and commercial practices. This article analyzes different cases of Mapuche women weavers in Chile’s Araucanía region in order to understand how are they dealing with both ancient and new methods of textile creation in the construction of their identities. Specifically, we analyze the creative and identity articulations that emerge in the tensions between these two types of textile construction methods observed.

Identity, Creativity and Mapuche Textiles

José Van Dijck (2004) notes that the accumulation of this kind of product (in our case, of textiles) reflects a historical time frame being appreciated as cultural memory,orin other words, as mediated memories that are part of our individual identities: BThey are creative acts of cultural production and collection through which people make sense of their own lives and their connection to the lives of others^ (p. 262). Therefore, here we understand there to be a close relationship between memory and identity, based on which the social group maintains a sense of sameness over time. In this sense, according to John Gillis (1994), we constantly revise our memories to adopt our identities. Based on this, we also consider that a living memory or culture must remain in constant movement, revising or cultivating those traditions, which would require some changes and, at the same time, certain limits to conserve the sense of sameness. Patricia Greenfield, in her book BWeaving Generations Together^ (2004), asks how the Zinacantán community in Chiapas, Mexico, has maintained its weaving tradition over the centuries. She would find an answer to this question in the way weaving is taught and transmitted from one generation to the next, focusing her lens of observation on the socialization and development of children in the community. With respect to Greenfield’s research, we also evaluate generational transmission, but we have not had the opportunity to analyze transmission and education among children. Therefore, for this study we treated the Bgroup of expert weavers^ and the Bgroup of novice weavers^ – both of which are groups that the weavers themselves recognize – as two generations in a process of transmission. Focusing on the tension between stability and change in textile art and Mapuche social identity processes, we find in the works of Mege (1987) a report of discordance between the discourse of the woven textiles and the reality in which the Mapuche people live. According to Mege, a majority of Mapuche textiles contain a rather complex semiotic structure, and these iconic symbols have concrete references. In line with this point, the simplicity of contemporary textiles or their incorporation of symbols Bthat don’t mean anything^ occurs because these concrete references are unavailable in the present day. One example of this would be the conflict that arises from dressing in garments of honor or power when one feels that those particular traits have been lost, whereby there is a Bcontradiction between the discourse of one’s robes and the precarious reality which one is subject to in present conditions^ (Mege 1989, p. 112). In this study, we opt to delve deeper into the weavers’ creative process, given that Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 617 exploring this particular element, as it relates to the cultural and identity context, can help resolve diverse tensions of the kind reported by Mege. This search for resolution by means of a creative act has been addressed in the psychological study of creativity. Within this research, we see that a majority of authors emphasize two important aspects: that creativity is a skill and, also, that the product created must be new and useful. As an example, we can look to Sternberg (1999), who defines creativity as the skill to produce something that is new (original, unexpected) and in turn useful. In the same vein, Lumsden (1999) defines creativity as a kind of capacity to think of something new that people find significant. In very similar fashion, Feist defines creativity as the skill to find new and adaptive solutions to a problem (1999). However, a majority of the studies in this field do not account for the relationship between different variables of identity, or the relationship of these variables with tradition. Some authors who have put forth scholarship that would help fill this theoretical void emphasize more social or group-based elements. For example, Csikszentmihalyi (1999) defines creativity as the skill to offer something new to the culture, resulting in an interaction between the systems of domain (cultural, symbolic), field (social, community) and the individual.Glăveanu (2009) says that creativity consists of a socio-cultural-psychological process that, through culturally-impregnated materials within an intersubjective space, leads to the generation of artifacts that are evaluated as new and significant by one or more members of a community. The problem with these proposals is that when variables of identity or tradition are introduced, the newness of the product must be treated as a tension-causing element. Something that is very new may not be recognized as belonging to the group of weavers. Patricia Greenfield addresses this variable by proposing that creativity rests in the capacity to integrate and transform within certain rules set out by a tradition (2004). Based on this approach, in this study we set out to investigate the subjective processes in which the aforementioned integration and transformations are carried out. In particular, we sought to explore what happens when ethnic, religious and commercial variables cause those attempts at integration and transformation to run into conflicts. The current situation faced by the Mapuche practice of weaving – with its contradictions, like those proposed by Mege, or with a lack of awareness among its creators or users, as illustrated at the beginning of the text – occurs in context that is totally different from years past. New rules for weaving dictated by fair trade organizations intertwine with the influence of new religions, offering new methods of weaving and creating diverse problems for the weavers to resolve. In these tensions, we analyze below the interaction between creative and identity processes among Mapuche women, accounting for the new cultural background and context of creation.

Participants and Methods

The ethnographic fieldwork was carried out over 2 years (from September 2010 to the middle of 2012), working with different Mapuche women weavers, whose ages ranged from 40 to 65. Over this period, on-site visits of 15 or 20 days were completed for each case. The fieldwork took a kind of quasi-ethnographic or micro-ethnographic approach (Goetz and LeCompte 1988; Silva Ríos and Burgos Dávila 2011). Although 618 Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 ethnography usually falls under the purview of anthropological research, there are many psychological studies that have adapted this type of approach to gain a deeper understanding of the phenomena being studied (Sánchez-Candamio 1995). According to Manning (2009), this kind of approach is beneficial because it allows the researcher to become immersed in the daily world of the participants and, in this fashion, understand visceral, emotional and unconscious traits of the group. With our ethnography, we sought to delve deeply into elements of Bthe invisible and barely discursive elements of individual and group life^ (Manning 2009,p.756). The first phase of the ethnography consisted of an exploratory study in different communes of the Araucanía region, for the purpose of determining which cases would be the most important ones. Then, we defined the principal zones and cases: a) in the town of Pillumallín: the weaver BVerónica^ and BTeaching Workshop 1^;b)inthe town of Almagro: the weaver BMaría^; c) in the town of Vilcún: the weaver BJosefa^ and BTeaching Workshop 2^; d) in the town of Puerto Saavedra: the weaver BEstela^. Verónica and María have for some years practiced Evangelical Pentecostalism, while Josefa and Estela maintain their Mapuche religious beliefs. The cases were defined as principal according to the degree of recognition that these women have within the commercial circuit and for being key representatives in which both new and traditional influences can be observed. It should be noted that although they are different town, they are close to each other and are part of the same commercial circuit. Other town and cases contacted in the first phase were not studied given the strategic difficulties. Great distances separated those cases from our definitive textile trade circuit, making our visits and stays difficult. Contact with each participant was achieved in different fashions and at different moments through these 2 years. In the cases of Verónica and María, we discovered them by reviewing the names of weavers whose textiles were on display in stores in the city of Temuco, after which we searched for them in areas where they lived. The contacts with Josefa and Estela arose from conversations with people in the city who had heard of them and recognized them as master weavers. All of the weavers agreed to participate in our study, as well as to the academic publication of images and quotes from their interviews, by means of informed consent.

Results

For this study we present two scenarios in which the previously described tensions manifest most notably. These consist of: 1) selection of materials (in which we evaluate the activities and decisions related to the type of material used, the choice of colors, and the symbols to be depicted); 2) preparation and fabrication (body position, skill and expertise). 1) Selection of Materials: We observed that this scenario is characterized by a dispute and negotiation over the stances (in a decision-making sense) assumed by each weaver. The selecting of materials depends on the circuit through which the textile will be offered and on who will receive it. In this case, there are two contexts in which textiles are circulated in the present day: the family and commercial circuits. The family circuit is characterized by its preservation of traditional Mapuche rules on color and choice of symbols, according to the garment’s use (e.g., the lukutue symbol in red for a Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 619 trariwe sash). The commercial circuit is governed by strict guidelines dictated by organizations and foundations (of the fair trade kind) that promote Mapuche textile arte. These rules are based around the use of natural wools and pigments and an exacting compliance with the size guidelines that the organizations impose for each kind of object (e.g., a cushion case must be 50 cm × 50 cm). Both circuits opt to use natural wools. This decision, according to the weavers, is mainly because these wools are of better quality than the industrially produced kinds. The fair trade foundations are intransigent when it comes to not accepting any work made with synthetic wool. Beyond these rules this is also a practical motivation: Natural wools are less expensive than their industrial counterparts, and most weavers have sheep at their homes that supply them with raw material. When their own source of wool is insufficient, they buy it from neighbors who focus solely on shearing and spinning the wool. This latter form of procuring wool is increasingly common among the weavers, given that it reduces preparation times. However, the weavers complain that, in these cases, the spun material is not as well-made as what they themselves could do. The type of twisting used also depends on what is being weaved. For these reasons, the material foundation of Mapuche textiles has not changed in terms of the type of wool that was used traditionally. The biggest change we observed was in the selection of colors.

Color Rules Traditionally, the most notable colors present in Mapuche textiles have been black, white, red, blue, fuchsia and yellow. Many weavers argue that creating these traditional colors today would only be possible with artificial dyes, which is prohibited by the fair trade foundations, such that each weaver must make a decision on this point. Josefa preferred to continue weaving in the same manner as her grandmother, repeating the colors of old-fashioned textiles that she had seen; in this case she prioritized the use of artificial dyes, even if that meant losing potential buyers. Estela was aware of the significance of the typical Mapuche colors, but, to avoid losing customers, she used new natural colors for the commercial segment and reserved the use of industrial dyes for traditional jobs. María, although she had learned her craft from a respected Mapuche weaver, told us that the natural colors are traditional and did not manifest any kind of observable tension; she felt that she was respecting tradition while at the same time participating in the fair trade market. Cases like Estela and Josefa are less common. A large number of the observed cases were weavers trained in workshops held by the organizations and foundations, and as a result they took similar stances to María, treating the new colors as if they were traditional in Mapuche culture.

Symbol Rules The cases observed presented two manners of learning Mapuche symbols. Just like with the colors, the symbols can be learned via family inheritance or in weaving workshops (the degree of knowledge about the meanings of the different symbols is highly variable). Here, position-taking regarding the selection of which symbol to weave acquires an additional variable compared to the colors: religiousness, especially with the spread of the evangelical faith to indigenous communities. In the case of both Josefa and Estela, the construction of sacred symbols is restricted to textiles intended for family or ritual use. They viewed negatively the use of these symbols for sale in markets, which put the symbols at risk of profanation due to misuse. The case of Verónica presents a problem of conflicting interests, in particular when she 620 Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 considered the possibility of making a trariwe depicting a lukutuel. The pastor at her evangelical church prohibited her from making the item because he considered it diabolical. Verónica confessed that she wanted to stop making it because she was afraid now that she understood that the image referred to a sorcerer and bad magic: … the pastor at the church told me that this [pointing to the lukutuel] is diabolical … and that thing is a sorcerer … It’s just that God would not ask for bad things to be made... this is why I refrain from doing a lot of jobs. Even though I do them, but here in these roots I don’t mess around … I’mafraidtodoit(Verónica 2011 interview). By jobs, she was specifically referring to the ñimin, which is a textile technique that the weavers utilize as an expressive language with a dense Bsignific construction,^ in which social, esthetic and ethnic codes are formed (Alvarado 1994;Mege1990). As such, this displacement of Mapuche religious significations by diabolical content can also be observed in other contexts, such as rituals where machis participate: The bible also tells you Bdo not consult the fortune-tellers or the sorcerers because that is punishable before the law of God^ Well, what happens? These ladies start with the ‘the spirits … the spirit of so-and-so came … he warned me … he told me this and that …’ The person who made those spirits appear biblically is the devil, that’swhyIdareto talk about what’s going one. That’s why the machi, to become machi, do all of that nasty stuff. We had a neighbor here who wanted to become a machi, and she wound up going crazy, she couldn’t bear the satanic spirit. The machi before turning into a machi … we saw her … they dance on top of that trunk like it was some kind of big stage. How do they stay up on that little stick if it’s so small like that? That’s why they say they become unstable, and that they’re neither men nor women … it’s because they’re a satanic spirit, that’s basically what it is. (Verónica, 2011 interview). When examining the new pieces by Verónica, we found trariwes that displayed other images without any meaning, or that re-signified traditional symbols (such as the Treng Treng and Kai Kai), understood now as a simple flower (see Fig. 1): BNow, when they talk about the kai kai snake, who fought in the sea and … and got everything tangled up … So here I say that this is a flower.^ María, who is also evangelical, continues weaving the Lukutuel and the Treng Treng and Kai Kai, but she is unaware of the original significance of these symbols. For her, they are Bonly a Mapuche drawing^ and, lacking any meaning, they do not come into conflict with her religious concerns. Another important point that was verified is that the geographic map of both colors and the symbols has become homogenized across many regions in the country. It has been possible to observe in different workshops and diverse regions the same

Fig. 1 Image 1 displays the Treng Treng and Kai Kai symbol on a machi sash found by Pedro Mege. Image 2 shows a sash woven by Verónica, where the same symbol (inside the circle) is seen transformed into a plantlike form Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 621 documentation and instructive manuals being used to teach the symbols and colors used for the textiles. This database contains traditional symbols that are taught without delving into their significance - the only thing transmitted is the mechanism to produce them - but it also includes new symbols that have quickly been adopted as traditional in a majority of the regions. 2) Preparation and Fabrication: Among the different cases, we observed relevant differences during the task itself of weaving. The most polarizing differences we found were between the method of weaving at the workshops and that employed by some of the more traditionalist women. The workshops we visited taught a method of stand-up weaving, while the women who learned via intergenerational teaching did it while seated very close to the ground level (see Fig. 2). The aforementioned workshops were taught by women who, at home, worked while seated, in the old style. When asked about this difference, they responded that, on foot, it was easier for them to teach large groups. However, Josefa commented on another occasion that, in order to achieve the proper tension in the threads of the weave, it was necessary to strike it forcefully. This was only possible if the body was positioned more closely to the ground, allowing the weaver to strike downwards on the weave with the Bñirehue^ (nërewe). This marks an important difference in the hardness of pieces woven one way or the other. As the textiles are currently intended for decorative purposes, hardness is not a necessity, and most pieces are prepared quickly, without sparing much time for their construction (fewer and weaker blows). It is interesting in this regard to consider what Maynard et al. (1999) found regarding the relationship between acquiring technological skills and culture, history and biology among native and non-native apprentice weavers. These authors reported that native apprentices show distinctive patterns of motor behavior and visual attention that have been reinforced by their cultural experiences from an early age. In our study, we observed a relationship between the more traditional method of weaving and a more familial context, while weavings with newer styles were created in a more individual fashion (notwithstanding the process of learning in the community workshops). Unlike Estela and María, whose wove their modern textiles alone in a

Fig. 2 Image a shows a class session in a workshop that Josefa teaches, where her students participate while standing up. According to Estela, this helps when teaching groups. In Image b, Estela weaves at her home in the old style, seated close to the ground, since this allows her to strike the textile threads with greater force 622 Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 room specially prepared for this purpose, Josefa always worked while surrounded by family members. She wove in the patio of her home while conversing with her parents in the Mapuche language of mapudzungun and looking after her three-year-old granddaughter, who played nearby; and when the granddaughter showed an interest in the weaving, Josefa would sit with her for several minutes in front of the loom so that the girl could play along (see Photograph 1). Verónica, who holds an attitude of recovering traditional textiles, worked alongside her husband and children, who helped to finish her pieces. A close neighbor would also often arrive to visit Verónica and work on weavings or dyes alongside her. We found a relationship between the expertise of each weaver and their respect for or transgression of the rules that govern both the selection of materials and the preparation and fabrication. Contrary to what one would expect, the women with more years of weaving experience – and, therefore, more proximity to traditional methods – are the ones who bend these rules the most, sometimes breaking them, other times not, depending on the purpose of each textile. We observed that, by obtaining deeper knowledge of textile techniques, they could find different paths to innovate or repro- duce designs or styles. The weavers who learned in the recent workshops had fewer tools to create new objects, limiting their work to the kind of garment sought by the fair trade foundations and organizations. Strikingly, Estela, who showed the most interest in defending Mapuche traditions and possessed an exhaustive knowledge of different weaving techniques, was introducing modern mechanized looms to her work process, creating a strong mix of styles. In terms of identity significations, we observed an important tension from the encounter between traditional and commercial methods of weaving – and which is based on the different color rules – and its emerge in the contradictory conceptions of what is considered BMapuche,^ by one side or the other. While for the more traditional weavers, the aesthetic that identifies their work is worth more than its material foundations (prioritizing the image shown, at the expense of how it is created), the fair trade organizations try to comply with rules for what is natural, leading them to modify older methods, but under the label of traditional or typical. According to Mege (1990), Bnatural colors are confusing, everyday; the artificial colors are distinct, ritual. Culture

Photograph 1 Josefa weaving in the patio of her home, accompanied by her parents and granddaughter (outside of the frame) Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 623 obstructs the natural to transform it into ritual, elevating it with artificial colors^ (p. 51). Green, used very little for the traditional, Bis so present, so recurrent in the environment that it has saturated the Mapuche imagination … another reason is that green is natural, and art is an expression that distances itself from the natural through a cultural exercise^ (Mege 1990, p. 46). This latter point is interesting if we consider that the novice weavers, in reencountering their Mapuche identity, also re-signified their practices with the environment. For example, investigating which plants produce different colors is a trait which they emphasized as valid in this new search for identity. Therefore, it is not out of line to think that, for these women, the natural had not saturated their imagination. Likewise, it is worth clarifying that, traditionally, one could find differences in the use of color based on the geographic region where each weaver resided. With the proliferation of workshops and foundations that support loom weaving, the rules of some are disseminated among others, such that we may find in regions that are separate from one another, the same homogenized colors in the present-day textile map. The idea of sales or commerce is not new. What is new is the directionality of the rules, or where they are dictated from. The sale of Mapuche textiles by the weavers themselves is not recent; for decades these women have sold their work. However, there is a major difference in the type of commercial relationship they would develop. Mege reported that:

The weaver who previously transmitted messages through her textiles in line with a strict code of signification now mixes those symbols for economic advantages, which produces inconsistencies and contradictory or even absurd expressions. It’s tempting to think that, apart from the evident economic strategy pursued in present-day artisanal production – in other words, selling what the buyer is looking for […] perhaps a playful goal is being pursued, a game that would consist of joking with the textile symbols, at the expense of their buyers and consumers. (Mege 1990,p.60)

The present scenario is very different from what Mege described in his writings from 1987 and 1989. His cases involved weavers who were experts in the code of textile signification, while the cases observed in the present have not attained such a degree of knowledge. Therefore, it is difficult to imagine the weavers adopting a playful strategy or intentionally mixing symbols, because they are not completely familiar with the rules; or more precisely, because it is not they who create the rules but the textile organizations and foundations. The women who have some knowledge of the sacred- ness of the code find themselves facing a double contradiction. On the one hand, if they opt to weave in the same manner as their grandmothers, they have to utilize industrial dyes and remain outside of the modern commercial circuit. And on the other, they refuse to weave their symbols for commercial purposes, out of fear that they will be profaned: Bthe lukutue is an image that only the machi may use, but here in the ninth [region] it’s already been trampled on a lot, because it’s the fault of the people who buy it but don’tknowwhatthey’re wearing … that they’re wearing a history, because that image is sacred. I preserve everything that I learned, I teach it, I say to my students, ‘look, this is for preservation, you have to preserve this’…it’s not for sale^ (Estela). 624 Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629

The tension between protecting tradition and the need to sell causes each weaver’s resolution to adjust to different possibilities. In the case of this weaver, she prioritizes sales, accommodating the type of product she sells to the extent that it no longer contradicts her identity concerns: BWhat happens with the people who make the ñimin? They make it very tiny, small … but right there they are selling themselves out, so in order for one to sell … so I can sell … Idon’t sell myself out. I innovate, I sell more flashy, more colorful products (…) it takes less work, but I am selling it at a price that the public is willing to pay (…) because I have a great need to survive^ (Estela). The phrase BIt takes less work, but …^ denotes that, for these women, it is not the same to weave one way as it is to weave the other. Both the rules imposed by the commercial circuit and the self-imposed rules meant to avoid profanation increasingly limit the options for continuing to weave in the traditional manner, even when there is a desire to do so. Josefina demonstrates this tension, with great regret, when alluding to the new rules: How I continue doing it without those colors? If they were the colors that my grandmothers used … if my grandmother already used industrial dyes to make them. The experiences of regret in Estela and Josefina are a substantially different from the other cases. This is because, when the education occurs in a family context and with great depth in its significance, transgressing or abandoning those aspects has a cost that, with the other weavers, acquires a different edge. As an example, we will examine next situations in which a weaver joins a new religion (tension between associated beliefs and representational paradigms), or in novice weavers who do not possess a framework of reference that comes into conflict with the rules set forth in the workshops. The evangelical religion of some weavers proposes a change to the contents of what is being weaved: BIdon’t want to meddle much with that kind of weaving, I teach it but I see it as a weaving, as a winged bird hiding its head, and if you look at it there’s the tail, and it’s on the other side, but then … it transforms in different ways [in reference to lukutuel symbol] … did you know that the Mapuche have a kind of … that they’re into witchcraft and all that stuff? (Verónica). This has led Verónica to replace the lukutuel symbol in the sash with other images lacking any significance, or to re-signify other Mapuche symbols, giving them a meaning that distances them from the religious side of this group. Even though she says that she continues to teach them, when we attended her class we observed no transmission of these older symbols to her students. Consequently, this entire group of Mapuche weavers is learning from her workshop (taught at the area’s evangelical church) these new meanings and rules of visual construction. The education of new weavers in the workshops offers a scenario of tension between change and resistance. On the one hand, it allows Mapuche women to rediscover aspects of their identity that have been denied for a large part of their lives: BMy parents and grandparents didn’t want to teach me anything … they didn’t tell me I was Mapuche so that no one would call me an Indian … my classmate and teachers. In the workshop I learned about Mapuche images and designs and I met other women like me^ (Nueva Imperial workshop participant). BMy grandmother wanted to teach me when I was a little girl … to spin first and to weave later on … but I forgot. In the workshop I learned again and remembered what my grandmother told me^ (Vilcún workshop participant). While the new weavers live this experience as a recovery or appropriation of identity, the more experienced and older ones do not recognize it as such: Bthe lukutue is sacred, it’s a very sacred thought, and they do something else: a Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 625 star, the moon, which is also depicted, and other images and so on, but not the lukutue … they change things and add images that should be included. That is what they’ve done, as you’ve seen at the [foundation name], they do very little and make very bad ñimin. There’s also [name of another foundation] that doesn’tmakeñimin… the [foundation name] doesn’tmakeñimin(Estela). While all of these women participate in the same textile and commercial circuit, these differences in recognition indicate the identity tensions within the groups. Given that in recent years, the workshop scenario has increased in its growth, as has the number of weavers who re-identify with Mapuche culture, we can speculate about a possible resolution to this tension via the act of creativity, one which little by little incorporates new methods of weaving as typical elements of Mapuche culture.

Final Remarks

As we have reported, a phenomenon of resistance and change is occurring in the creation process of Mapuche textiles, varying from case to case. What characterizes this resistance-change relationship is that which is considered modern (use of artificial dyes) and is rejected by the commercial circuit (currently more widespread than traditional and ritual uses) is also defended by persons who most closely identify with traditional uses. Likewise, this latter group distances itself from the novel use of natural dyes, something which the more numerous novice weavers consider to be the most Mapuche aspect of their identity. This lays bare a series of naturalist and stereotyped constructions among these novices about what Mapuche identity is (Gonzalez and Haye 2015). We believe this contradiction is sustained, in part, by the different modes of transmission and teaching that facilitate the processes of creating Mapuche textiles. On the one hand, the method of transmission has changed, from being interdependent within the family to being group-oriented in workshops, as has its meaning, now that the commercial factor is one of the main motives for weavers, who are encouraged by the institutions that offer the workshops. As such, it is interesting to compare this situation with what Greenfield described in her work in Chiapas. She carried out her research in two separate decades. Comparing the research conducted in the 1970s with her work at the beginning of the 1990s, she describes a process of teaching and learning that changed from a more directed method to one that is freer, a kind of trial and error process. This new manner is individualist and more innovative with regard to the Baz’i tradition, which had been the typical method and which was previously considered to be the only correct way of weaving and embroidering. During the 1970s, the town was primarily agricultural and was organized under a more collectivist economy. With the passage of time, another, commercial type of model has emerged, one that is mainly business oriented and which prioritizes individual interests. Greenfield perceived a movement from interdependent (informal) learning to an independent kind that, lacking any direction by the elders, allowed for greater exploration by means of trial and error. This has resulted in an increasing level of creativity and innovation in the town’s textiles, a process which has benefited from access to formal education and, with that, new cognitive tools for planning designs. Both Greenfield and other studies in the psychology of creativity, such as Dollinger et al. (2007), support the idea that more individualist cultures maintain higher levels of innovation than ones that are more 626 Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 collectivist. In the context of Mapuche textiles, this model of interdependent teaching has also been the typical and historical method of transmission. Currently, in communities and families which still maintain a more communal lifestyle, teaching continues to occur between mothers or grandmothers and daughters, and here is where we find the weavers mostly attached to the traditional methods. However, the new foundations and commercial organizations provide a kind of collective education, but with more directed methods. We find in this case that the more formal method of teaching in the institutions or foundations, in removing the familial scenario, does not foster the transmission of the codes of signification associated with the Mapuche culture and cosmovision, nor does it allow for the exploration of new methods. In the case of the new weavers, this limits them to the mechanical reproduction of the images requested by the foundations or organizations in which they participate. In line with Greenfield’s findings among Zinacanteca weavers of the second generation she analyzed, Mapuche women who know the tradition and the only correct way of doing it (and who, in addition, incorporate new technologies) they have a better possibilitie of appropriating of the rules and play with them. This possibility was not observed among the weavers who learned at the foundations, due to the direction over their education or the strict rules they must follow. It is interesting to contrast this ability to take ownership with studies in the psychology of creative on the phases that a creative process should have (Sternberg 1999; Yuan and Zhou 2008). These authors identify a process as such when there are basically two phases: one that is generative in nature and one that is more exploratory, or which selects the ideas which generated the first phase. In our cases with the weavers, we have observed that the women who belong to foundations do not actively participate in these phases, least of all in the first one. The foundations generate the rules and rigidly transmit them, compromising the second stage of exploration or selection as well, such that the weaver is relegated to her mechanical reproductions. This point can also be contrasted with the studies of creativity by Yuan and Zhou (2008), where they explored the relationship between creativity levels and the expectation of external evaluation. According to these authors, the expectation of evaluation has a different effect on each one of the aforementioned stages. They found that the expectation of evaluation during the generative phase diminishes the creative process, while in the second phase this expectation increases the levels of creativity. Conducting a thought experi- ment to consider these results in line with the results of our case studies (a purely speculative exercise, since we could not run experimental tests like Yuan and Zhou), we could see how expectations in both groups have different effects on the creative process. We observe in the group of workshop weavers (the novices) that while they work, the expectation of evaluation is underlined. Running through their work is the expectation of whether or not the foundation will accept the end product. Since these expectations are based on the size and permitted use of colors, they only concern themselves with fulfilling these guidelines and cling to them in the process of creation. As such, in the generative phase there is only the reception or induction of institutions. Among the experienced weavers, their expectations of evaluation confront the new and traditional mandates, and they must negotiate the contradictions between them. These expectations are lived with the need to resolve and fulfill both mandates; by having the ability to manipulate Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 627 both sets of rules for creating (traditional and innovative), these weavers generate new symbols or alter old ones as a means of articulating these mandates. In this case, we believe that creativity, in the sense of a problem-solving skill, achieves its maximum expression. After, what should occur is described by Csikszentmihalyi (1999): that in order for creativity to take effect, a combination of rules that are transmitted from the domain (culture) to the individual would then produce a new variation on the context, this being selected by the field (social or group) for inclusion, in turn, in the domain. According to this author, the group would finally decide to incorporate or validate the creation, something which we have tested in our observations that new textiles currently wind up being identified as Mapuche, even when they contain major differences from typical traditional pieces. In this sense, for this study we have evaluated creativity in a similar fashion to Greenfield. This is not only because our research has as shared focus on textiles, but also because we place creativity within a cultural system that regulates and puts certain limits, which necessitate the skill to integrate and transform. By focusing on the creative process in culture, one understand that meanings and symbols are preserved and transmitted to new generations, providing some level of stability in our symbolic universe. Simultaneously, these meanings and symbols are open to change, with elaboration and transmission via collective processes of action and communication (Glăveanu 2009). One could understand that the traditional legacy in this case, rather than setting limits, is providing the necessary rules of the game between the individual and the collective. When these are part of that collective, the rules can be appropriate and used, which provides the necessary tools for creation. To the contrary, when the rules come from a collective that is not an active participant (the commercial circuit of fair trade), they are only there to be complied with and accepted. The weight of authority over the design of rules that we propose is also sustained by the findings of Greenfield (2004). In the latter case, it stands out that the Zinacanteca weavers could achieve greater levels of innovation when the design rules were individualized, due to changes in their education and training that were influenced by a commercial change. What is interesting here is that the change in the commercial circuit has fomented a directed style of education within the foundations, but this same change has led weavers like Estela to develop a more individualized style, linking the business world with the traditional world. For this reason, and based on cases like the latter one, we believe that for each weaver who knows the prevailing rules, there exists in her the skill to create the opportunity to appropriate for herself that memory and to newly represent the concrete references and concerns of the present day. This puts up for discus- sion the changes to educational methods that are being developed and which no longer provide weavers with – at least for the moment, we believe – the capacity for integration and variation, which would grant them the ability to transform reality so that their threads cease to be, in the words of Mege, Bmutilated symbols, sick with aphasia^ (1990,p.112).

Funding This study was funded by the Interdisciplinary Center for Intercultural and Indigenous Studies (CIIR) at Pontifica Universidad Católica de Chile., CONICYT/FONDAP (No. 15110006) and Consejo Nacional de Ciencia y Tecnología http://www.conicyt.cl (CONICYT). Project # 27614087. Beca para estudio de doctorado en Chile (2008). 628 Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629

Compliance with Ethical Standards

Conflict of Interest Author Ramiro Gonzalez declares that he has no conflict of interest. Author Pedro Mege declares that he has no conflict of interest.

Ethical Approval All procedures performed in studies involving human participants were in accordance with the ethical standards of the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile and with the 1964 Helsinki declaration and its later amendments or comparable ethical standards.

Informed Consent Informed consent was obtained from all individual participants included in the study and all data was made anonymous.

References

Alvarado, M. (1994). Ñimin, Trarün, wirin: Tres procedimientos expresivos en el universo textil mapuche [Ñimin, Trarün, wirin: three expressive procedures in the Mapuche textile universe]. Lengua y Literatura Mapuche, 6,9–14. Bengoa, J. (2003). Historia de los antiguos mapuches del sur: desde antes de la llegada de los españoles hasta las paces de Quilín: siglos XVI y XVII. BPR Publishers. Bengoa, J., & Caniguan, N. (2011). Chile: los mapuches y el Bicentenario [Chile: The Mapuche and the bicentennial]. Cuadernos de Antropología Social, 34,7–28. Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1999). Implications of a systems perspective for the study of creativity. In R. J. Sternberg (Ed.), Handbook of creativity (pp. 313–338). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Dillehay, T. (2004). Monte Verde: Un asentamiento humano del pleistoceno tardío en el sur de Chile [A Human Settlement from the Late Pleistocene in Southern Chile]. Santiago: LOM Ediciones, Dollinger, S. J., Burke, P. A., & Gump, N. W. (2007). Creativity and values. Creativity Research Journal, 19(2), 91–103. https://doi.org/10.1080/10400410701395028. Feist, G. J. (1999). The influence of personality on artistic and scientific creativity. In R. J. Sternberg (Ed.), Handbook of creativity (pp. 273–296). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gillis, J. (1994). Memory and identity: The history of a relationship. In J. Gillis (Ed.), Commemorations, the politics of national identity (pp. 3–24). Princeton: Princeton University Press. Glăveanu, V. P. (2009). Paradigms in the study of creativity: introducing the perspective of cultural psychology. New Ideas in Psychology,1–15. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.newideapsych.2009.07.007. Goetz, J. P., & LeCompte, M. D. (1988). Etnografía y diseño cualitativo en investigación cualitativa [Ethnography and qualitative design in qualitative research]. Madrid: Morata. Gonzalez, R., & Haye, A. (2015). Alteración del concepto de etnicidad desde la experiencia de las tejedoras mapuche del sur de Chile. Psicologia USP, 26(3), 441–452. https://doi.org/10.1590/0103-656420140065. Greenfield,P.M.(2004).Weaving generations together: Evolving creativity among the Mayas of Chiapas. Santa Fe: A School of American Research Resident Scholar Book. INE - Instituto Nacional de Estadísticas (2002). Estadísticas Sociales de los Pueblos Indígenas en Chile - Censo 2002: Informe de resultados [Social Statistics of Indigenous Peoples in Chile - 2002 Census: Results Report]. Santiago: Instituto Nacional de Estadísticas. Lumsden, C. J. (1999). Evolving creativity minds: Stories and mechanisms. In R. J. Sternberg (Ed.), Handbook of creativity (pp. 153–168). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Manning, P. (2009). Three models of ethnographic research: Wacquant as risk-taker. Theory & Psychology, 19(6), 756–777. https://doi.org/10.1177/0959354309349156. Maynard, A. E., Greenfield, P. M., & Childs, C. P. (1999). Culture, history, biology, and body: native and non- native acquisition of technological skill. Ethos, 27(3), 379–402. Mege, P. (1987). Los símbolos constrictores. Una etnoestética de las fajas femeninas mapuches [The constricting symbols: an ethno-aesthetics of Mapuche feminine sashes]. Boletín del Museo Chileno de Arte precolombino, 2,89–128. Integr Psych Behav (2018) 52:614–629 629

Mege, P. (1989). Los símbolos envolventes. Una etnoestética de las mantas mapuches [The enveloping symbols: an ethno-aesthetics of Mapuche blankets]. Boletín del Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino, 3,81–114. Mege, P. (1990). Arte textil mapuche [Mapuche Textile Art]. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Ministerio de Educación. Sánchez-Candamio, M. (1995). La etnografía en psicología social [Ethnography in Social Psychology]. Revista de Psicología Social Aplicada, 1,27–40. Sennett, R. (2009). El Artesano [The craftsman]. España: Anagrama. Silva Ríos, C., & Burgos Dávila, C. (2011). Tiempo mínimo-conocimiento suficiente: la cuasi-etnografía sociotécnica en psicología social [Minimal time-suficient knowledge: the socio-technical quasi-ethnography in social psychology]. Psicoperspectivas, 10(2), 87–108. https://doi.org/10.5027 /PSICOPERSPECTIVAS-VOL10-ISSUE2-FULLTEXT-146. Sternberg, R. J. (1999). Handbook of creativity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Van Dijck, J. (2004). Mediated memories: personal cultural memory as object of cultural analysis. Continuum: Journal of Media & Cultural Studies, 18(2), 261–277. https://doi.org/10.1080/1030431042000215040. Yuan, F., & Zhou, J. (2008). Differential effects of expected external evaluation on different parts of the creative idea production process and on final product creativity. Creativity Research Journal, 20(4), 391– 403. https://doi.org/10.1080/10400410802391827.

Ramiro Gonzalez Doctor in Psychology. Postdoctoral researcher at the University of Sao Paulo, Brazil. His research interests are in the theoretical and empirical study of processes that involve the self, the identity and the person. He carried out his doctoral research at the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile around phenomena of ethnicity and identity in Mapuche weavers of the IXth Region of Chile. He is currently doing research on the meanings of the notion of person in the relationship between psychology and indigenous peoples, looking for possible theoretical and methodological articulations in the field of dialogical cultural psychology.

Pedro Mege Doctor in Latin American Studies, he has specialized in the areas of Ethnology and Semiology. His field of work has been the Mapuche culture, mainly his textiles, the culture of the desert, in association with life in the mining fields, and the indigenous photography of Chile. Teacher Anthropology UC.