They shared this experience and the cultural references to dance, and so with or without a percussive beat and a stick, a dance was designed and performed that served a variety of purposes. The Africans were among strangers, homesick, captured, force-fed, and removed from all that was familiar. In comprehending the importance of dance, Fabre challenges the reader to consider how dance would be translated and transformed once a person was on board a ship, chained and stiff. This scholar also noted that the quality of an individual’s performance was a uniformly acknowledged measure of prowess and skill. At times it was the means of forming connections with ancestors or spirits, and it was a process to maintain solidarity and identity. Still coffled, Africans danced to drumming, or to whatever wind or string instruments or devices fellow captives or the crew had available.Īccording to Professor Fabre, among cultures in West and Central Africa, dance is a communal activity. This exercise, frequently put to music, was also designed to amuse the crew or ship’s guests as they waited on the African coast for additional captives or supplies. Often in small numbers, these captives were brought on deck, usually shackled, and required to move or dance. Africans on board the ships spent most of their time cramped and confined in the ship’s hold, in no more space than would allow a person to lie down or sit up, not stand, for more than twenty hours each day for weeks and months on end. Movement, primarily accompanied by music, was deemed vital to maintaining the health of the transported human cargo. We were well aware through research that during the Middle Passage voyage a routine of daily exercise was established by slave traders for captive Africans. How low can you go? We are talking “limbo.” Is this a dance? A competition? A workout? An historical artifact? Any and all of the above?Īn essay written by the late French scholar Genevieve Fabre about the limbo recently crossed our radar.

Limbo dance