Reclaiming Land, Life, and Spirit: The Pataxó Art of Body Painting
Pataxó has no direct translation in English: it is the sound of water against stone as it travels to meet the sea.
Once, the Pataxó people of coastal Brazil lived freely in the forests, river lands, and tropical shorelines of southern Bahia and northern Minas Gerais. But more than 500 years ago, Portuguese settlers invaded the region, leaving legacies of trauma, violence, and environmental destruction which linger today.
The Pataxó’s ancestral territory—as well as the cosmologies and practices that root them to it—have been under continuous threat ever since . Only recently have community-led reclamation efforts of these traditional lands and lifeways been reignited.
“Our people were reborn from the ashes,” explained Txatxu Pataxó, a young leader from the coastal village of Barra Velha.
Andwara and Txatxu Pataxó speak on the Narrative Stage on the topic of body art and adornment as cultural resurgence.
Photo by Stanley Turk, Ralph Rinzler Folklife Archives
On the first day of the 2024 Smithsonian Folklife Festival, featuring the program Indigenous Voices of the Americas, Txatxu and Andwara Pataxó (chief of the village Aldeia Velha) spoke to audiences about the revival of a vital custom. Far more than a decorative art, the Pataxó body adornment tradition has tethered their people to their ancestral land and heritage for countless generations.
Layers of beaded necklaces, bracelets, and anklets rattled gently as Txatxu and Andwara took to the stage before a quiet audience. Txatxu, a respected artist in his community, sat tall as he made his introductions. A red line of paint traced a path down the center of his face.
“Who am I to speak when my ancestors have already spoken for me?” he said in Portuguese, his steady voice carrying across the expectant silence.
For the Pataxó people, body painting reflects the lived constellations of past and present and of human and more-than-human worlds. Along with other arts passed down carefully across generations—wood carving, jewelry making, featherwork, among them—this enduring tradition acts as a protective layer around the heart of Pataxó culture, guarding it from forces of erasure.
Some of the designs serve practical purposes, like indicating a person’s civil status. Others are reminders of collective cultural memory. “Red is used to protect us from harm,” Txatxu said, gesturing to the line on his face. “For my people, red is a symbol of resistance, resurgence, and our struggle against colonial oppression.”
“Nowadays, we make a point of using strong black in many of our designs as a sign of mourning for relatives who have been killed,” Andwara added, referencing intensifying patterns of violence toward the Pataxó and other Indigenous communities in Brazil. She wore a traditional feathered cocar headdress, and the faded outline of a black snake coiled around her right calf.
Each of the paints used for traditional body painting are made using natural ingredients native to Pataxó land: black is sourced from genipap fruit, red from the seed of the urucum or achiote plant, and yellow from a clay known locally as tawá.
“All of the pigments we use come from nature, but we intentionally harvest them in a conscious and sustainable way,” Andwara noted.
As part of the contemporary resurgence of Pataxó tradition, all members of the community learn how to make the paints, as well as the meanings of each pattern. This transmission starts at a young age. For the first nine years of their education, Pataxó children attend specialized schools within their villages, established in the 1990s as part of broader efforts to revitalize their culture. Alongside these schools arose initiatives to reconstruct and reclaim the traditional Patxôha language, which was all but lost during the era of colonial oppression.
“We learn all of our traditions in school: how to make the necklaces, the skirts, the food,” Andwara explained to the audience gathered around the Narrative Stage. “This is what keeps our culture strong.”
Photo by Julie Byrne, Ralph Rinzler Folklife Archives
A few mornings later, I sat down with Txatxu on the National Mall as he and Andwara set up for a day of art demonstrations. A selection of items from their villages filled their table: medicinal oils and tinctures, elaborate jewelry crafted from seeds, rapé (a ceremonial snuff made from tobacco and native plant species), and tepi and kuripe snuff pipes. An assortment of paints, paired with thin sticks used to achieve the distinct geometric linework of Pataxó designs, rested to one side.
Painting is at the heart of Txatxu’s daily life as one of the leading artists in his village, Barra Velha. While body art is used to celebrate special occasions like festivities, weddings, and rituals, he explained, the tradition is also a part of the everyday rhythms of Pataxó communities. “I began painting at eight years old,” he said. “My cousin was an artist, and he passed the tradition onto me.”
Each of Txatxu’s designs is an intimate expression of the unique essence he observes in an individual. “I paint a person according to the energy I see in them,” he shared of his practice. “This always brings learning—it has taught me a lot about spirit.”
Many of the motifs found in the Pataxó body painting tradition are inspired by native wildlife. Abstract interpretations of butterflies, jaguars, birds, beetles, and fish honor and acknowledge neighboring species and are said to invoke the protection of the animals they depict.
It’s common for community members to feel connected to a specific animal, akin to the idea of a power or spirit animal. “My power animal is the jaguar,” Txatxu reflected. “Whenever I paint the jaguar’s spots on my skin, I feel myself become stronger. The jaguar is an animal of great strength. It resists, just like our people.”
Read the full story, published December 18 2024, on Smithsonian Folklife.
