10
Reconstructing Early Colonial Andean Ritual Practice at Pukara, Peru

Colonial Andean Religion

Although undoubtedly chaotic and destructive, the Spanish conquest of the Andes did not signal the abrupt dissolution of indigenous religions or their immediate replacement with European Christianity (Gose 2003; Mills 1997; Salomon and Urioste 1991; Van Buren 2010:176). In fact, missionization of the Andes was a long, protracted process. While the Inka state religion—which had only been around for a hundred years or so—had been effectively stamped out by the early 1700s, the older, regional religious rituals and traditions persisted and were far more difficult for the Spanish to extinguish (MacCormack 1991:4–5).

The introduction of Christianity elicited mixed responses from Andean peoples. Many saw an advantage in believing in a new, foreign, and seemingly all-powerful god, but most struggled with conversion and the demand to relinquish their traditional beliefs and ritual practices. While some openly embraced Christianity after conquest, others rejected it outright—in some cases, violently so. Far more added only the aspects of this new religion that they found appealing and dropped them when they no longer worked within their rapidly changing worldview. As Mills (1994:116) relates, “Aspects of the Europeans’ faith became elements in the Andean religious framework by a fluctuating agenda, varying from place to place, individual to individual, and usually without clearly eclipsing the existing religious connections.” It is this tangle of European and Andean beliefs and practices that was woven together, whether deliberately or inadvertently, to lay the foundation of Andean Christianity.

Andean Christianity in the early colonial period was inchoate and flexible. It was marked by religious compromise and co-option as well as uneven, fitful, and unpredictable change (Mills 1997:5). To varying degrees, aspects of indigenous belief and ritual practice were incorporated into Andean Christianity—at both an institutional and individual level—from its very inception: “The interaction of Christianity with native American religions in the colonial era (and indeed subsequently) was characterized by reciprocal, albeit asymmetrical, exchange rather than the unilateral imposition of an uncompromising, all-conquering and all-transforming monotheism” (Griffiths 1999:1). Andean Christianity was not purely indigenous or European—the reality was far more fluid than those binary categories suggest. Much like the hybrid colonial culture emerging at this time, the negotiation of religious identity in the Andes resulted in an “in-betweeness” of faith and ritual practice (Bhabha 1994).

The entanglement of Spanish Catholicism and traditional Andean belief systems produced new religious practices during the early colonial period (Gose 2003; Lara 2004; MacCormack 1991; Mills 1997; Wernke 2007, 2011). This hybridity was not practiced uniformly across the Andes and in some cases was not sanctioned by the church. New traditions in religious music, art, and festivals emerged, reflecting the complex cultural interactions that created them (Nair 2007:52). For instance, to the east of the Andes, the traditional songs and dances of the Guarani were adapted after contact to worship the Christian god (Bailey 2005:242). In addition, Catholic feast days became aligned with events on the Andean ritual calendar, producing new ritual traditions (MacCormack 1991; Mills 1997). For example, the timing of the Catholic festival of Corpus Christi corresponded with that of the Inka solstice celebration of Inti Raymi; the coinciding ritual procession through the streets of Cusco became an important event in the colonial period and featured aspects of both religious traditions (MacCormack 1991:180, 1998). Many hybrid religious practices started in these early years and contributed to the syncretic nature of Andean Christianity that is still practiced today.

Along with ecclesiastical music and art, new colonial forms of religious architecture also emerged. Many of the first colonial structures were churches built to facilitate conversion, and in rural areas, provisional chapels were constructed. Churches and chapels were the first permanent presence of Spanish culture and religion for many Andeans, as well as the materialization of Spanish conquest (Fraser 1990:82). While the Spanish may have been interested in creating architectural and stylistic forms that would have been somewhat familiar to indigenous populations, it is important to remember that Andeans were active participants in the creation of these new forms. As Abercrombie (1998:263) argues, “Much as we might like to attribute such facts to the conversion strategies of wily priests, we must also recognize that Andeans themselves were adept at the process of cultural translation.” Analyzing colonial places of worship—in terms not only of how but also of where they were built on the landscape—can provide insight into the earliest practices of Andean Christianity.

Religious architecture can be used to examine ritual practice in a number of ways (Capriata Estrada and López-Hurtado, Chicoine et al., Vega-Centeno Sara-Lafosse, this volume). First, rituals routinely occur in specially prepared spaces, many of which were created specifically for that purpose. As the loci of ritual activity, religious buildings are designed and constructed to accommodate ceremonies, and this function is reflected in the architecture and the use of space. These special-purpose buildings are often distinguishable from their domestic counterparts in terms of layout, scale, architectural elements, and the labor invested in their construction (Moore 1996b:139; Renfrew 1985 ). Embedded with cues that communicate culturally coded information, religious architecture can also shape ritual experience (Moore 1996a:790, 1996b:221). As Moore (1996b:3)argues, “Architecture is more than a passive product of potential labor investment; it reflects other dimensions of public life, and in turn, helps shape the nature of social interaction.” For example, Fogelin’s (2007:62) examination of Buddhist architecture in India demonstrates how variations in spatial organization shape the ritual participation of priests and the audience. Thus, ritual structures not only reflect religious practice but also play a role in shaping it (ibid.; Moore 1996a:798; Wernke 2011:79).

Beyond architectural components, the placement of the religious structure within the local landscape is also indicative of its ritual role. As Low (1995:748) argues, “The symbolic importance of the built environment is found in its interpretation as an expression of culturally shared mental structures and embodied processes. By their configuration, content, and associations, the spatial or physical attributes establish a system of relationships that represent aspects of social life . . . The examination of the built environment, then, can provide insights into meanings, values, and processes that might not be uncovered through other observations.”

Not coincidently, colonial religious structures were often placed in meaningful places in an attempt to map onto the indigenous sacred landscape. This appropriation also included the reuse of ancient religious architecture. In many parts of the Andes, indigenous shrines had to be “converted” as well as the people. Temples, plazas, and other pre-Columbian ritual sites were sometimes incorporated into colonial chapels and churches. This reshaping and reconfiguring of the built environment was perceived by the Spanish as an aid to conversion; “keeping existing shrines intact allowed the Spanish to bring people to God in a familiar place” (Lara 2008:20) as well as to provide a sense of continuity between Andean faith and Christianity (Bailey 2005:218). It is also possible, as Low (1995:758) argues, that “the spatial relationships maintained by building on ruins, using the same stones and foundations, allowed elements of indigenous politico-religious system to remain” and that “these latent meanings were not necessarily acted upon publicly, but they may have been useful in reinforcing aspects of indigenous identity, self-esteem, and spiritual power that helped to preserve indigenous folkways, beliefs, and practices.”

However, not all religious architecture with elements of both Spanish and indigenous traditions is evidence of new syncretic practices. There is a difference between building a church on top of a temple and building a chapel that incorporates aspects of local religious architecture. Examples of the former are found throughout the Andes, including the Santo Domingo convent in Cusco, the cathedral of Vilcashuamán, and the San Juan Bautista church in Huaytará. In these cases, building on top of sacred sites was not only a symbol of the new Christian religious and social order but a physical demonstration of dominance. MacCormack (1991:252) argues that it was intended to be a “display of Spanish superiority over Andean weakness and error” and thus a way to establish physical hegemony (Lara 2008:21).

Religious Architecture in the Colonial Andes

Spanish conquest of the Andes brought distinct religions and forms of worship into contact. The first Europeans in western South America found a seemingly infinite number of indigenous religions, from the Inka state religion to small hunter-gatherer belief systems, each with its own foreign worldviews, religious practices, rituals, and deities. However, the Spanish became quickly aware that in many regions, public rituals took the form of open-air worship and were conducted in spatially designated spaces and places. From Caral to the Inka, many Andean cultures built religious architecture in the form of large plazas and sunken courts where outdoor ceremonies took place, often in front of temples or huacas. Rituals involved speeches, music, and dance that Moore (1996a:791) believes “fused communities, validated social distinctions, and restated cosmologies.” Many smaller-scale societies also had ritual spaces but often had no formally defined architectural space for ritual.

Andean religious traditions at the time of contact stood in stark contrast to how the Spanish practiced Christianity back in Europe. As Catholics, they were accustomed to rituals such as mass that took place indoors. As McAndrew (1965:205, original emphasis) stresses, “From its beginning the Christian religion had been one where worship took place inside a building,” continuing that “the essential rite was the Mass, and its symbolism and traditions demanded that it take place indoors.” In fact, “Christian architecture had from the first emphasized the interior of its churches rather than the exterior: where Mass was to be celebrated, a fine setting ought to be provided and the setting had to be indoors” (ibid.). European churches were architecturally distinct structures, with architectural canons that were followed across Europe. This included a cruciform floor plan that consisted of an apse and nave that symbolized the cross on which Christ died. The altar, located in the apse, was always oriented east—in the direction Jesus would rise again. Other architectural canons were added to the basic cruciform model, creating regional and temporal styles.

Old World religious practices and their corresponding architectural canons are visible in the religious architecture of the early colonial period. The arrival of the Spanish coincided with an explosion of church construction (Fraser 1986:325). This included the introduction of Christian religious architecture like the cruciform floor plan, as well as rites and rituals such as mass and baptism. As in other parts of Latin America, the earliest chapels in the Andes were temporary adobe buildings or repurposed existing structures that were used until a Spanish town could be founded and a formal church constructed (Lara 2004:36). However, the introduction of European religious architecture was also coupled with the appearance of new colonial forms adopted in the Andes after contact, including atria and open chapels. These new forms of religious architecture—originally developed in New Spain as part of a larger evangelization complex (see ibid.:29)—were constructed in response to the needs of a new colonial Andean society and included structures built to accommodate large crowds receiving religious instruction and witnessing mass.

Walled patios, or atria, were large, enclosed rectangular spaces built alongside churches and chapels. They ranged from a simple quadrangle to more elaborate spaces with an atrial cross or fountain in the center and multiple gateways (ibid.:18). Both churches and chapels opened up to atria, and this enclosed outdoor space is where Andeans gathered to learn Christian doctrine. Although they may have served more than one purpose, atria were conceived as transitional spaces between the church and the town as well as a continuation of the church (Gutiérrez et al. 1978:75), and they served as open-air naves. As many have noted, the use of atria for open-air worship relates not only to necessity (large-scale conversion) but also to prehispanic religious practice (Ballesteros 1975; Gisbert and de Mesa 1985; Gutiérrez et al. 1978; Lara 2004).

Open chapels, also referred to as Indian chapels or external chapels, were similarly common in the Andes in the sixteenth century. These chapels were sometimes referred to as guayronas, the Quechua word for wind, implying an open-air religious experience (Donahue-Wallace 2008:28). They tended to be small, roofed structures with one or more sides opening onto a plaza or atrium (Ballesteros 1975:118). This architectural plan created two distinct spaces of worship; while the priest gave mass under the protection of the roofed structure, large congregations gathered in the open plaza or atrium to participate in mass and religious instruction (Ballesteros 1975:117; Lara 2004:21). In larger towns open chapels were built alongside the main church, providing the Spanish and indigenous with their own spaces for worship because worship was segregated in many towns and cities during the early colonial period (Donahue-Wallace 2008:28). However, in smaller villages, especially those with no or very small Spanish populations, open chapels were standalone structures that served as rural houses of worship in the absence of a formal church.

Ballesteros (1975) identifies two common types of colonial Andean open chapels. The first consists of a chapel built next to or attached to a church and that opens onto a small enclosed atrium. This type of open chapel is found in the Collao region, where most were constructed during the 1570s through the 1590s (ibid.:119). Many remain unstudied and undocumented, in part because so many have been remodeled, destroyed, or deteriorated (ibid.:114). This is especially true of the open chapels of the Titicaca Basin because they were built with adobe bricks and thatch. However, it is possible to interpret the building materials as a reflection of the perceived intended use of these structures: temporary structures to be used only while indoctrination took place. Once formal churches were constructed and the indigenous population began worshipping indoors, these early structures were abandoned and quickly succumbed to the harsh Titicaca elements (Donahue-Wallace 2008:28).

The second type of open chapel is a second-story balcony on the church facade that is common in Cusco but can be found throughout the Andes (Ballesteros 1975:115, 119–20). Like their Titicaca cousins, these balconies were constructed to facilitate groups larger than the chapel itself could accommodate. The town’s population could gather in the open air and witness the celebration of mass. Unlike their southern counterparts, the open chapels of Cusco tend to be made of more permanent materials (ibid.:114). The greater investment in labor and materials suggests that these structures were likely more than provisional constructions and possibly served a disparate role from the open chapels of the altiplano. One of the best-preserved examples of this type of open chapel can be found in Andahuaylillas. Another example is the balcony of Santo Domingo de Cusco, built on top of the Coricancha.

Both atria and open chapels reflected the practice of open-air worship, a clear departure from the Old World Christian tradition of indoor worship and the emphasis on the interior in Christian architecture (McAndrew 1965:205). Colonial Andean atria were unlike their European precursors because they were used to hold mass and were used regularly (ibid.). Priests preached in the open air in Europe but did so infrequently, and not in a specially constructed area. Nor was it customary to give mass outdoors. Outdoor Eucharistic liturgy was rare in Old World Christianity; thus, this architectural form appears to be a New World invention.¹ Without direct European antecedents, these new canons more closely paralleled plazas, sunken courts, and other places of open-air worship native to the Andes. The appropriation of Andean ritual practices such as open-air traditions may have been a compromise between Spanish missionary goals and local beliefs to facilitate the conversion process (Gisbert and de Mesa 1985:130; Gutiérrez et al. 1978:71). Thus, from the very beginning, religious architecture in the colonial Andes was similar to yet distinct from both European and pre-Columbian traditions. In combining indigenous and Christian spaces and practices, new types of ritual experiences were created.

However, documenting the full extent of these hybrid forms and their associated rituals is hampered by the preservation state of most early colonial sites; many of the first chapels have been destroyed or extensively remodeled, or they have deteriorated. This spotty record has diverted scholarly attention to the extant architecture of the later colonial period (Bailey 2010; Ballesteros 1975; Gisbert and de Mesa 1985; Gutiérrez et al. 1978). Recent studies, including excavations at Magdalena de Cao (Quilter 2010) and recently published work on Torata Alta in the Moquegua Valley (Rice 2012), have found that while these new forms fell out of favor, there is archaeological evidence that some aspects of pre-contact Andean ritual practice continued in European-style churches well after contact.

Although early colonial chapels are relatively rare, recent studies of extant structures have contributed to a more comprehensive understanding of the early ecclesiastical architecture and its associated rituals. Such research includes archaeological investigations of Colca Valley chapels built by the Franciscans prior to the 1570s (Wernke 2007, 2011). Some of the earliest standing chapels in Peru, these structures are open chapels built to accommodate outdoor worship. The chapels are strategically located near Inka structures and plazas—an attempt by the Spanish to create “a spatial analogy that linked and leveraged built-in spaces of Inka state-sponsored ceremonials with new forms of Christian ritual” (Wernke 2011:86). Wernke (2007:179) concludes that the interaction between the Spanish and the Collaguas people of the Colca Valley created new hybrid places and spaces that “were the creation of both but not controlled entirely by either.” This is similar to findings at San Miguel de Piura, the first church built in South America (Astuhuamán Gonzáles 2012; Villanueva Domínquez et al. 2002). Constructed soon after Pizarro’s arrival, this rectilinear structure consists of European architectural features such as a bell tower, baptismal fountain, altar, and sacristy. However, the church’s location shows clear ties to the local sacred landscape—it was built partially on prehispanic architecture and is adjacent to a prehispanic stepped platform. Astuhuamán Gonzáles argues that San Miguel and its deliberate placement are reflections of a brief transitional period, between 1534 and 1548, during which European and indigenous ecclesiastical structures stood side by side in religious coexistence (Astuhuamán Gonzáles 2012:198).

Pukara’s Prehistoric Religious Architecture

The archaeological site of Pukara, just south of the modern town of Pucará,² has a long history as a ritual center (figure 10.1). While its occupational history reaches back thousands of years, the site became the civil-ceremonial center of the Pukara culture during the Late Formative period (500 BC–AD 200). During this period the Pukara culture rose to prominence and was one of the first complex societies to develop in the Titicaca Basin (see Klarich 2005). At the heart of this regional polity stood the Kalasaya, a large stepped platform that rises up from the pampa at the base of El Peñon, a massive red sandstone outcrop. On top of the Kalasaya are multiple subterranean stone-lined courts ringed by small rectilinear structures (figure 10.2). Sunken courts served as ritual spaces across the Southern Andes and were the dominant form of religious architecture during the Late Formative and Middle Horizon (Kolata 1993:104). Given their small size and restricted location, these sunken plazas would have been used for small, intimate ritual gatherings (see Moore 1996a).

Figure 10.1. Aerial photo of Pukara and its surroundings, showing the location of sites discussed in the text

Figure 10.2. Site of Pukara with El Peñon in the background. Photo by Elizabeth Klarich.

By AD 400 the Pukara polity had collapsed; while the sunken courts may have fallen into disuse, ritual continued at the site in other areas. The post-Pukara occupation has been pieced together by Wheeler and Mujica (1981). During the Late Intermediate Period (AD 1100–1450), the Colla people lived near the Kalasaya and used the ruins as a cemetery. The dead were placed in communal burial towers, or chulpa, located on the terrace just below La Quinta. Like most Andean groups, the Colla venerated their ancestors, who were often visited and given offerings in rituals of remembrance that strengthened the lineage and its ties to the land (see Cobo 1997). Later, the Inka conquered the Colla and modified the Kalasaya as a demonstration of their newly established control. Imperial additions to the Kalasaya include rectilinear buildings, a double-jambed trapezoidal niched wall, and a new, rerouted stairway and entry (and sealing of the Late Formative entrance). Although much of the architecture from this period has since been destroyed, some of the structures the empire constructed were probably spaces for ritual. In the Inka provinces outside the capital of Cusco, large trapezoidal plazas were commonly constructed to hold public ceremonies, including state-sponsored feasting rituals. The fall of the Inka in the 1530s, however, did not mark the end of Pukara’s ceremonial significance; the site continued to play an important role in local ritual after Spanish contact.

La Quinta and Pukara’s Colonial Religious Architecture

In the early decades of the colonial period, the La Quinta³ chapel was constructed on top of the monumental terraces between two of the Late Formative sunken courts (figures 10.3, 10.4).⁴ It was one of the first physical manifestations of the Spanish empire in this area, as well as the last stage in the occupational history of this important Andean site. La Quinta is composed of a chapel and an enclosed atrium. The chapel is a trapezoidal structure measuring roughly 27 m by 8 m and is oriented east-west, with the eastern end abutting the sealed Formative entryway and a niched Inka wall and the western end containing the apse (figure 10.5).

Figure 10.3. Late Formative sunken court. Photo by Elizabeth Klarich.

Figure 10.4. La Quinta chapel

Figure 10.5. Plan of La Quinta and surrounding architectural features, after Wheeler and Mujica 1981

The architectural components of the chapel consist of an apse that opens onto a possible chancel (a rectilinear patio with a paved floor) with a set of stairs that connects this elevated section to a sunken nave. The single entrance is located on the north wall of the chancel. The nave’s south wall features a row of arched niches, and a possible baptismal fountain can be found in the northwest corner of the nave. La Quinta’s walls were constructed with a combination of adobe and undressed fieldstones (possibly borrowed from the nearby Inka structures) placed in irregular courses. However, more labor went into the construction of the apse: some of the rocks were shaped, and the interior walls were covered in red plaster. Overall, the construction materials and techniques suggest that La Quinta was one of the early rudimentary chapels built in the early decades after conquest.

The atrium, accessed from the chapel’s single entry, is a roughly 12 m by 18 m enclosed area. The perimeter wall is made of mud bricks and roughly shaped field stones and has been severely weathered by the elements. The access point to the Kalasaya is not clear, as the wall is missing in more than one place. A small square enclosure—with a single small window on its north wall—is located near the northeast corner of the atrium, but its function is unknown. The enclosure appears in photographs taken by Kidder in the 1920s and so is not a recent construction.⁵ To the south of the atrium is a wall that runs along the edge of the Kalasaya. It is made of roughly shaped fieldstones and is composed of double-jambed niches. Between this wall and the edge of the terrace is a line of column foundations. The relationship of the niched wall to the chapel and atrium is not clear.

Architectural analysis shows that La Quinta was not a purely colonial construction but the result of multiple building events, starting in the prehistoric era. Based on wall alignments and masonry styles, a rectilinear Inka structure (once referred to as a kallanka) was reused and remodeled to serve as the apse of the chapel. The four original corners are evident, indicating that the apse was originally a standalone structure. The remains of two evenly spaced doorjambs along the east wall follow a standard Inka floor plan. Other Inka architectural features include the gables on the north and south walls, which indicate that the building had a gabled roof. Colonial modifications include the removal of the east wall, the addition of apertures in the north and south walls, the addition of two buttresses on the west wall, and construction of the nave, chancel, and atrium. The windows that were added to the apse may have been built to allow those outside La Quinta chapel to still witness the priest delivering mass. Moreover, the buttresses were probably added on to the structure to provide additional support for the roof, perhaps to compensate for the removal of the east wall. Although it is clear that the apse was roofed, there is no architectural evidence of roofing in the nave; no buttresses were constructed and no gables or niches for support beams are present. This absence of Andean and European roofing features strongly suggests that the nave was left open.

La Quinta also has architectural features that, while prehispanic in origin, were constructed during the colonial era. For instance, the floor plan of the chapel is trapezoidal, a hallmark shape of Inka plazas built across the empire to hold state rituals. The nave may have been open, which would more closely resemble Andean open-air worship traditions than the indoor Catholic ones. The chapel was constructed following the Kalasaya’s alignment and does not follow the European canon of an east-facing altar. The double-jambed niched wall is also of Inka design. Double-jambed niched walls in the capital were signifiers of an important building (Niles 1987). However, the construction technique is more similar to the colonial aspects of La Quinta than the original Inka period structure. Thus, it is possible that this prehispanic architectural canon was built after contact. Lastly, the sunken nave is not a feature of European or Inka religious architecture but most closely resembles the surrounding Late Formative subterranean patios of the Kalasaya. In fact, it is possible that La Quinta was built on the remains of a sunken court.

Most of the colonial modifications to the chapel are of Spanish architectural features. The apse, chancel, nave, buttresses, and baptismal fountain have no Andean precedent and represent Old World canons. The line of columns in front of the niched wall is another colonial addition, as columns are uncommon in Inka architecture. Together with the double-niched wall, the columns may have been a patio or some version of a balcony open chapel seen in other parts of Peru during the colonial period. People could have gathered on the terraces and the principal staircase below to witness mass, receive religious instruction, or view other rituals. A balcony would have allowed the gathering of large numbers of people, well exceeding the capacity of the chapel and its atrium.

There is architectural evidence of other new forms of religious architecture at La Quinta. The atrium and arched niches cannot be traced back clearly to a European or prehispanic architectural tradition. As discussed in the previous section, atria were a new architectural feature first introduced in colonial Mexico that was subsequently adopted throughout the Americas. On the other hand, the arched niches are not well-known in the Andean architectural record. However, if we break down the form to its essential parts, we are left with the most dominant architectural symbol of each of these groups; the arch is a defining element of European architecture, whereas the trapezoidal niche is the hallmark of Inka architecture.

La Quinta may be an early example of an open chapel, in that it served to create a space for open-air worship that was familiar to the indigenous population. However, it is unlike any known open chapel and thus may have been built to meet the unique needs of the surrounding community. The nave’s high walls would have prevented the congregation from seeing out or bystanders from seeing in. These changes drastically altered the nature of the ritual at the site and served to create a Christian religious experience in a once pagan place. The combination of Andean and European features created a new type of ritual space that allowed for a new kind of ritual experience, one that was both Andean and European. Like other architectural forms that emerged during the period, it may have served as a way to introduce Christianity in a traditional Andean manner and setting.

Thus, the trapezoidal floor plan, the open and sunken nave, and the arched niches found at La Quinta make it a unique amalgam of architectural elements. Together with its strategic location on top of the Kalasaya, La Quinta created a built environment that shaped but also reflected ritual experience at Pukara. La Quinta’s architecture does not represent a drastic shift or complete replacement of indigenous traditions with Spanish ones. In fact, the architecture suggests that the religious practices that took place within its walls were also hybrid in nature. The open nave formed a ritual experience not entirely Catholic but a mix of European and Andean religious traditions. Moreover, because La Quinta incorporates aspects of local religious architecture, it is clear that its construction atop the Kalasaya was not solely an act of dominance. Instead, the architecture suggests a process of accommodation and compromise between Spanish and Andean interests. How this process was negotiated is not clear in the archaeological record; neither are the details about who was involved in the construction of La Quinta. However, given the demographics of the altiplano during this time, it can be safely assumed that the builders of the chapel were probably exclusively native Andeans. They were tasked by a priest or encomendero with constructing a type of building they had never seen to house rituals they had never experienced. This lack of familiarity with European religious architectural tradition may offer some explanation as to why the chapel deviates from that canon. But as the creators of La Quinta, Andean builders and their motivations cannot be discounted. As Bailey (2010:4) argues, the builders of La Quinta may have been able “to transform these imposed iconographies and religious practices so that they reflected their own beliefs and worldviews.” To suggest that the architectural style of La Quinta was solely the work of “wily” Spanish priests or merely a poor translation of a Christian chapel would be to ignore the role Andeans played in the development of new forms of religious architecture at Pukara.

La Quinta and Santa Isabel

La Quinta occupied a brief moment in time. The early colonial period in the Andes was over by 1610, marked by a distinct change in Andean Christianity and its material correlates. Initial attempts at evangelization were abandoned after the church realized that Andeans were not giving up their ancestral religions but merely adding Christianity to their belief system. In response, the church decided to shift its ecclesiastical energies toward eradicating idolatry in the Andes (see Andrien 1991; MacCormack 1991; Mills 1997).

This shift in strategy can be traced in the material record. Starting with the Toledan reforms of the 1570s, ecclesiastical architecture in the Andes became permanent and more homogeneous as populations were resettled in Spanish-style towns with churches constructed on the main plaza (Fraser 1986). In these new towns the church was the geographical and ideological focus of village life and represented not only a new spiritual order but a new social, political, and economic order as well (Cummins and Rappaport 1998; Fraser 1990:82; MacCormack 1991:141). At Pukara and its environs, churches built during this period are remarkably uniform in plan and are characterized by a simple nave, apse, bell tower, and arched portals with facades that featured elements of classical European architecture (Gutiérrez et al. 1978). In both architecture and landscape, the Spanish were trying to stamp out pre-contact (and thus pagan) influences in colonial Andean life.

The transition from the early colonial to the colonial is evident at Pukara. The colonial town of Pukara was founded during the Toledan era, and the surrounding reduced populations were moved into the new Spanish-style town. At the center of this new settlement were the main plaza and the Santa Isabel church (figure 10.6). The completion of Santa Isabel in 1607 marked the end of La Quinta and also the end of its new religious architectural features. Unlike La Quinta, considerable time and resources went into the construction of Santa Isabel—it was built to last. Also unlike the chapel, Santa Isabel was built in the classical European cruciform floor plan, featured traditional European architectural canons, and showed no Andean influence. While the original construction may have included an open chapel to take advantage of the colonial town’s well-known market—one of the biggest in the region—to preach to a large group on market days (Sundays), Santa Isabel is a clear departure from La Quinta (Gutiérrez et al. 1978:72). Its architecture reflects a wholly Catholic place and space and suggests that the rites conducted within its walls were similarly Catholic in nature. In Santa Isabel, the architecture helps focus attention during Catholic ritual on the clergy at the apse and altar. In an overtly Spanish-style church during a time of a massive idolatry campaign, there is little chance that the rituals that took place in Santa Isabel had indigenous Andean religious overtones.

Figure 10.6. Santa Isabel church, Pucará. Drawing (below) adapted from Gutiérrez et al. 1978. Photo by Elizabeth Klarich.

Moreover, Santa Isabel’s architecture and relation to the surrounding landscape would have created a new ritual experience for the indigenous population at Pucará. The ritual experience at Santa Isabel would have been different from that at La Quinta because of the two structures’ disparate relations to the surrounding landscape. By building the church away from the Kalasaya and in the heart of Spanish Pucará, the ties to Pukara—and its centuries of occupation and ritual importance—and El Peñon were broken (or at least weakened) and replaced with new ties to the Spanish state and the Catholic Church.

The architecture of Santa Isabel and its place on the landscape suggest a process very different than the one of accommodation and compromise seen at La Quinta. In the way La Quinta reflects the chaotic but more open times of the early colonial period, Santa Isabel mirrors the era in which it was built: a time of expiration campaigns and increasingly restrictive evangelization policies. While the nature of public ritual at Pukara may have changed, there is little doubt that traditional beliefs still persisted but were no longer played out in public; many traditional practices at this time were driven underground or relegated to the private sphere (see Gose 2003, 2008; MacCormack 1998; Mills 1997). In some areas of the Andes, indigenous beliefs actually grew stronger as a result of the idolatry campaigns, while some even campaigned to purge the newly adopted Christian beliefs, arguing that conversion had been a mistake and was responsible for the dire conditions in which most of the indigenous population lived at the time. In fact, the Toledan reforms coincide with the rise of Taki Onkoy, an indigenous messianic resistance movement that spread across most of the Southern Andes and sought to reject all aspects of Spanish life and reinstate pre-Columbian beliefs (Cummins 2002:144; Gose 2003, 2008; Mills 1997).

Conclusion: The Nature of Andean Christianity

The religious architecture at Pukara demonstrates the dynamic nature of Andean Christianity. La Quinta’s architectural amalgamation, as well as its placement on top of the Kalasaya and reuse of its place within the local sacred landscape, created a new and uniquely colonial ritual space. Ultimately, the new architectural forms and spaces, along with their corresponding rituals, were part of a short-lived experiment in religious hybridity. While architectural analysis at La Quinta suggests that some Andean religious practices continued into the early colonial period, the construction of Santa Isabel suggests that they were later relegated to the private sphere. They did not, however, disappear altogether. Across the Andes, traditional beliefs continued in household rituals and were practiced in clandestine locations outside the purview of the church. They, like their Christian counterparts, changed to fit the post-contact reality of their practitioners and have continued to evolve to the present day. In fact, many prehispanic rituals and beliefs continue today, and the Catholicism the vast majority of Andeans practice today is disparate from its Spanish parent. As Bailey (2010:4) states, “People who deny the vitality of indigenous religions during the colonial era—and there have been many—cannot have witnessed firsthand the degree to which much of the apparatus of Andean religion still coexists with Christianity.”