Home to more than 850 languages and nearly as many distinct cultures, sing-sing ceremonies vary widely in dress, song, dance and action from tribe to tribe in Papua New Guinea. The following are images, song and sounds from three distinct sing-sing ceremonies of the Kosua Tribe near Mount Bosavi in the remote rainforest of the Southern Highlands Province. There is a somewhat distinct hierarchy of spiritual importance associated with each of the Kosua sing-sings oftentimes relative to the performers age and less so, their social standing within the community. Villagers, both men and women, begin by learning "Ilikina," (or Kundu Dance) sometimes as early as 12 years old. In this singsing, 'kundu' drums, fitted with iguana skin are pounded in consort with tree nut shell and crayfish skeletons which dangle from a curved pole fastened to the performers waist belt, or 'bilas.' White and black Cockatoo feathers make up the headdress while flutes of Reggiana Bird of Paradise feathers adorn their arm and leg bilas. Young palm tree shoots are splayed and fastened to the belt to give the cascading effect of movement and all together, the dancing mimics of the mating movements of various types of Birds of Paradise found in the surrounding rainforest. Indeed, there is an element of romance in this dance for the Kosua too. Women participate by calling out and dancing around the men shaking a type of maraca in their own rhythm. Oftentimes, men and women of marrying age will travel a few days walk to large sing sings to find a mate. The second type of sing-sing is called 'Koluba.' In this ceremony, men and women wear similar adornments as Ilikina, though the dance and song is completely different with a flare of 'right of passage' drama. Men all emerge from the entrance of the 'big house' together, holding hands and singing a collective song which is the background of the first half of this slideshow. After a couple of rounds inside the big house with spectators cheering them on, the men take a seat together on one side. After a brief moment of silence, one man will rise, singing a song he composes impromptu and reaches out for the hand of another dancer he would like to perform with. They hold hands and rhythmically move their body to jingle the crayfish and seed shell clusters to provide the music and sing across and back again the 100' length of the big house. Meanwhile, the women all hold hands in a half circle and sing their own songs (at the lead of one) on the side of the 'stage.' The drama comes in to play if the performer composing the song risks--knowingly--referencing a painful memory of one of the spectators. If they do (and they do often if they are ready), the spectator wails out in grief, takes a long tree sap 'candle,' (torch) and either drips molten flaming tree sap on the dancers back, or if inspired to, shoves the lit end of the candle into the shoulder of the dancer which can result in 3rd degree burns. Women Koluba dancers risk the same burn if their song is poignantly emotional. The beauty here lays in the fact that the dancer must not break stride, rhythm or song during and after the burning. Whats more is that the singsing lasts until daybreak. The cultural significance of the burning is multifold. it is an opportunity to go through a right of passage of sorts for performers to be able bear the scars of a sing sing burn--which sometimes takes 3 months to heal and can be life-threatening with infection. It is also an opportunity to allow public grieving, remembrance and release for spectators who are knowingly going through a painful emotional time. Reciprocity also plays a role in that if the severity of the burn warrants it, the person who wields the torch will have to compensate the dancer a large pig, cassowary, or kina shell (sometimes all three). The third sing-sing is "Balo" and is most often performed by village elders. In this sing-sing, pairs of men (usually just 2-3 pairs) sit opposite each other (30 feet or so) in the center of the big house and take turns singing across the distance between the other seated. It is a particularly haunting sing-sing when the only sound in the big house is that of a sole, entranced Kosua man chanting to the rhythmic rattling of crayfish shells that dangle from a tulip tree-bark string he holds in his hand. The same rules apply to the Balo singsing as Koluba. The performer risks being burned if he sings a song that strikes at the heart of a grieving spectator. It is my belief that this performance is most often performed by the elders due to the fact that it is their voice and crayfish skeleton cluster that constitutes the only sound in the big house--if he is burned he must not break rhythm or trance while he is performing and he must continue (in turn) until daybreak. Feel free to comment below if you have questions or comments. Thanks for watching.

• published: 04 Mar 2015
• views: 1126