Chemical Residues Analysis

To address cacao residue properly, it should be noted that cacao beans that were ground for consumption in the Classic period were not likely stripped of their butterfat, and therefore not processed to a dry powder, resulting in an oily, powdery pulp. To suspend this ground cacao into a liquid concoction, either hot water or vigorous mixing with some liquid would need to occur (see Powis et al. Reference Powis2002 and Green Reference Green, Staller and Carrasco2010 for additional details on preparation); thus, a cacao beverage was never purely cacao. Once mixed, a cacao beverage would begin to separate, with the oil pooling on the top of the liquid and the cacao grit and particles settling to the bottom. As the Maya had pottery, rather than high-fired kiln ceramics, the porous vessel body would necessarily absorb a portion of a liquid into the fiber of the container (Evershed Reference Evershed2008:904, see also Charters et al. Reference Charters, Evershed, Goad, Blinkhorn and Denham1993; Stern et al. Reference Stern, Heron, Serpico and Bourriau2000; Green Reference Green, Staller and Carrasco2010).

The sampling strategy for the collection of residues was to target the interior bottom and sides, where residues would likely be the most densely concentrated. Samples were also taken of the ceramic fiber (the inner core of the profile) when possible. All sampling was done on location, whether in the field or museum. All reasonable efforts and common laboratory standards were employed to limit contamination. Sampling was conducted with stainless steel tools, which were sterilized before and after every sample. The samples were then placed in sterile glass containers and labeled appropriately. The organic analyses were conducted at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute with the assistance and direction of Zagorevski.

During the organic evaluations, the collected samples were manually ground into thin powder on an aluminum mortar and pestle. A ~0.5 mL by volume measure of the powder was placed in a polypropylene vial. The organic compounds were extracted from the powder using a methanol-methylene chloride (1:1) mixture. The vial was tightly sealed with a screw cap, and shaken for approximately two hours on an automated shaker. The mixture was left overnight, allowing solution and solids to separate. The solution was removed, centrifuged, and filtered using Millipore filters. The solvent was evaporated on a centrifuge vacuum evaporator. The samples were re-dissolved in 10 μL of the methanol-methylene chloride (1:1) mixture before being analyzed by gas chromatography – mass spectrometry (GCMS) methods (Zagorevski and Loughmiller-Newman Reference Zagorevski and Loughmiller-Newman2012; see also Hurst Reference Hurst and McNeil2006; Hurst et al. Reference Hurst, Martin, Tarka and Hall1989, Reference Hurst, Tarka, Powis, Valdez and Hester2002).

For the GCMS portion, a Shimadzu QP5050A mass spectrometer with a GC-17A gas chromatograph was used for analyses. Separation of volatile components of the mixtures was performed on a Restek Rxi-5 ms (5 percent diphenyl, 95 percent dimethyl siloxane) 30 m × 0.25 mm column, pore size 25 µm, using the following temperature gradient: initial temperature 60 °C, hold at 60 °C for 2 minutes, followed by a linear gradient to 250 °C at 20 °C/min, linear gradient to 325 °C at 10 °C/min with a total analysis time of 24 min. One μL of sample was injected into the injector port, which was held at 250 °C. The detector temperature was 250 °C. The mass spectrometer was operating in electron ionization mode in the mass-to-charge range from m/z 40 to m/z 600 at a scanning speed of ~0.3 seconds per scan. The instrument control, data acquisition, and data processing were performed using Shimadzu GCMS solutions software (version 1.20).

Microfossil silica phytoliths were targeted for the inorganic evaluations. The following procedure is a general method of separation by density used to isolate SiO₂ siliceous phytoliths from their deposit matrix. Samples were lightly ground into small particles with a stainless aluminum mortar and pestle. The static bonds of phytoliths with clay particles were broken with laboratory detergent Ethylene diamine tetra acetic (EDTA) soaked and agitated. The sample was fully submerged in nitric acid (HNO₃), agitated, allowing organic matter to be dissolved or destroyed. The sample was centrifuged and the supernatant drained, more HNO₃ was added, and the process was repeated. Heavy floatation was conducted with Zinc iodide (ZnI₂) and hydrochloric acid (HCl). The phytoliths were recovered from the liquid, dried, and slide-mounted. Peremount was used for this analysis. Samples were examined with a Nikon Optiphoto-pol at 400× magnification (20μm).

At no point were any of the alkaloid biomarkers of cacao chemically identified, nor were any microfossils of cacao identified during inorganic evaluations. Both the organic and inorganic analyses would also have been able to identify other potential contents. Maize phytoliths were also sought, but were not found in sufficient numbers to argue more than natural contamination. Microscopic phytoliths can be easily introduced by natural conditions (wind or water), or through contamination introduced during excavation and handling (i.e., hair and clothing). Maize was once extremely common, and therefore the contamination was expected.

I also did not find any evidence of other foodstuffs or drugs that include alkaloids (e.g., chili pepper, tobacco, buffo toxin, and psilocybin mushrooms). From the inception of this research, contents other than those specified by hieroglyphic text or indicated by iconography were sought in addition to the suggested contents. Methods used for ancient residues are not able to infinitely examine all potential residues, and so reasonable limitations were established to explore for the greatest possible range of significant or non-daily foods (although some would, in fact, be potentially identified). Therefore, the organic analyses primarily targeted alkaloids, which are compounds found in a myriad of intoxicants, ritual and recreationally consumed foodstuffs, and cacao.

Hieroglyphic Text

If a foodstuff is named in the PSS, it is within the framework of anywhere between three and 20 or more surrounding glyphs. Named foodstuffs are not always present in the PSS, however, and are only found on approximately one-third of known PSS-labeled vessels. The foodstuffs named are from a variety of cacao and maize products. The PSS itself typically contains the folk classification of vessels, the names of patrons, and sometimes the names of the artisans. It is generally recognized that there are occasional crossovers between folk names and vessel form (such as lak, “plate,” also found on Jade plaques). Foodstuffs in the PSS, such as kakaw, are not necessarily exclusive to one vessel form (form indicted by folk name). Kakaw, for instance, is found on forms other than cup-shaped vessels. Finally, the PSS may also be written on clothing, monuments, and jewelry (Mora-Marín Reference Mora-Marín and Wichmann2004; Stuart Reference Stuart2005). These latter texts tend to be shortened variants of the PSS, and follow more along the lines of name-tagging practices with the introduction, named item, and date (see Stuart Reference Stuart2005).

The foodstuffs named in the PSS nearly always indicate either cacao and/or maize with various modifiers or additives. Table 1, adapted from Kaufman and Justeson (Reference Kaufman and Justeson2007:33) including this author's additions, illustrates most of the cacao variations known for the PSS but is not intended to be exhaustive. As noted above, the word kakaw can be referring to the tree, pod, seed, or foodstuff with no specific indicator identifying which aspect of cacao is being referenced. Given the broadly cup-like shape of the cylinder vessels, as well as the textual reference to a drinking vessel and a foodstuff known to be an ingredient in a liquid beverage, the common understanding was that vessel text was indicating that the vessel had been used for that beverage. Since such a concoction would have left detectable residual remains (such as that found in other vessel forms; see for examples Colas et al. Reference Colas, Helmke, Awe and Powis2002; Crown and Hurst Reference Crown and Hurst2009; Henderson et al. Reference Henderson, Joyce, Hall, Hurst and McGovern2007; Hurst et al. Reference Hurst, Tarka, Powis, Valdez and Hester2002:98; McNeil Reference McNeil and McNeil2006; Powis et al. Reference Powis2002, Reference Powis, Hurst, Rodríguez, Ortíz C., Blake, Cheetham, Coe and Hodgson2007, Reference Powis, Jeffery Hurst, Carmen Rodríguez, Ortíz C., Blake, Cheetham, Coe and Hodgson2008) that are not present, the explanation must be that kakaw is: (1) referencing one of the other aspects of the plant rather than a subsequent beverage; (2) it is a symbolic reference to cacao use rather than the vessel's use; and/or (3) the text is commemorating an event where a specific cacao concoction was consumed.

Table 1. Cacao variations known for the PSS, adapted from Kaufman and Justeson (Reference Kaufman and Justeson2007:33) including this author's additions.

The above are not full recipes, as cacao would have been only one component of the beverage: all of the foodstuff statements lack the liquid component to which they are added. The glyphic statements and modifiers of kakaw are more likely referring to the nature of the cacao seed or pod by color, growth, or location. Additionally, yutal is the most frequently occurring addition to kakaw that appears in the PSS. The generally accepted reading of yutal is the possessed form of a Ch'olan word for “seed” or “seeds” (MacLeod Reference MacLeod1990; also Lacadena [personal communication 2005] in Beliaev et al. Reference Beliaev, Davletshin, Tokovinine, Staller and Carrasco2010:258). Stuart (Reference Stuart and McNeil2006:188) and Kaufman and Justeson (Reference Kaufman and Justeson2007:224), however, cite rare spellings as ’u-yutal, suggesting that the possessive marker for this word is u- and that y- is part of the noun root; this is inconsistent with words for “seed(s).” Justeson (personal communication 2017) suggests interpreting yutal as “contents” and u-yutal as “its contents,” perhaps literally “what is inside something,” as a lost Ch'olan cognate of proto-Tzeltalan *yut, “adentro // inside” (Kaufman and Justeson Reference Kaufman and Justeson2003:245), Tzeltalan languages being the closest relatives of Ch'olan. Colonial Yucatec yut and yutal, “bezoar stone(s)” (Ciudad Real Reference Ciudad Real1984:f221v; Michelon Reference Michelon1976:424) may be related, as contents from inside the stomachs of some slaughtered deer, which are believed to have magical properties (Kaufman and Justeson Reference Kaufman and Justeson2007:224). Pío Pérez (Reference Pío Pérez1866–1877:411) gives <yutalceh> as a term for bezoar stones from deer.

According to Kaufman and Justeson (Reference Kaufman and Justeson2007:235),

The types of foodstuffs named in the PSS are commonly dried prior to preparation and consumption (e.g., cacao and maize), and in seed or dried form could have been reasonably stored in the highly-decorated vessels without damaging the decoration or the vessel.

The expression te'el is translated as “forest” (in Chol; Aulie and Aulie Reference Aulie and de Aulie1978:110) or “tree” (in Tzotzil; Laughlin Reference Laughlin1975:333). Stuart (Reference Stuart and McNeil2006:194) has suggested this may be indicating “wild cacao” (literally “of-the-forest”), and most likely indicating uncultivated Theobroma cacao. K'i:n (or k'ihn) kakaw has been thought to indicate “sun or hot cacao.” I suggest that this might be indicating Theobroma bicolor, commonly referred to as pataxte. Pataxte pods and seeds are very similar to those produced by cacao trees and are similarly processed and consumed (Kufer and McNeil Reference Kufer, McNeil and McNeil2006), but the tree is dissimilar in one key aspect: Theobroma bicolor (pataxte) will grow in full sun, while Theobroma cacao needs at least partial shade and cannot grow in full sun (Bronson Reference Bronson, Miller, Estrada and Meister2014; Hellmuth Reference Hellmuth2010; Kew Science Reference Science2017). Several of the modifiers attached to cacao appear to be locations, possibly identifying specific orchards. “There are two clear examples [of location] and one likely example. One of these is the only modifier of kakaw in its phrase, and two of them immediately follow yuta:l and precede kakaw” (Kaufman and Justeson Reference Kaufman and Justeson2007:34), therefore “the seeds of ‘location’ cacao.”

The term tzih frequently precedes cacao, though in other cases it stands on its own as a lone word. “The term tzih relates to the idea of ‘raw,’ ‘fresh,’ or ‘pure’ in many Mayan languages today, though the exact meaning is still somewhat in debate epigraphically” (Stuart Reference Stuart and McNeil2006:194; from Stuart Reference Stuart2005:144–145; see also Reents-Budet et al. Reference Reents-Budet, Ball and Kislak1994:118). Kaufman and Justeson (Reference Kaufman and Justeson2007:32) conclude that the word tzih in combination with cacao, “refers neither to a variety of the cacao plant nor to an ingredient in the drink. In the frequent phrase tzi:h(-i:l) kakaw ‘raw cacao,’ the word kakaw must refer to the cacao kernel or pulp - thus, to cacao as an ingredient and not as the name for a drink.” If speaking about cacao beans, this may be indicating untreated beans in a stage presumably prior to the drying, roasting, and/or fermenting processes.

Contextualizing the text

If the “chocolate pots” were not used, and not unambiguously designed, as vessels for the actual drinking or holding of liquid cacao (as compared to the thicker bowls and cups where theobromine residues are found), then another discrepancy becomes apparent. The only known meaning of the word ’uk'iib’ (or ‘uch'iib’) is “drinking vessel,” which leads to its common reading as “a vessel from which one drinks.” Furthermore, the Rio Azul pot (Stuart Reference Stuart1988), which also bears the 'uk'iib’ label did contain cacao residues, is a thicker-walled storage container, neither a cup- nor vase-like vessel, nor designed for direct consumption. Conversely, the cylinder vessels labeled “drinking vessel” both did not contain cacao residues and were not likely used for drinking. Since both the labeled cylinders and the Rio Azul vessel bear ’uk'iib’, our reading of the term appears to be misidentifying its reference. Logically, either the reading of ’uk'iib’ has a connotation other than “a vessel from which one drinks” or its presence in the PSS must be referring to some other drinking vessel that is in the possession of the elite individuals or types of individuals named as their owners and not the vessel on which the statement occurs.

As described above, the physical examinations of the vessels did not show use-wear patterns consistent with holding a liquid, but they did show indications of abrasion wear consistent with non-liquid contents and vertical tool striations. One possible explanation for these wear marks could be dried contents such as dried cacao seeds, which could have been measured out with a bone or wood tool. The seeds could then be readily ground and added to a drink base such as those named on the fermentation ollas (Figure 4), which are commonly shown in the scenes depicted on the body of the cylinders. A number of these scenes are on the same vessels that have PSS text including cacao. Cacao could then have been added only to the drink of the containing vessel's owner and subsequently consumed from a more common bowl or smaller cylinder cup. If held in a lidded cylinder, dry cacao seeds could be stored for longer periods than cacao in a liquid.

Figure 4. Example of kakaw in the Primary Standard Sequence (PSS), with image showing olla labeled chiih, “pulque” (Kerr no. K1092). Photograph © Justin Kerr.

Contents of cacao in its dry seed form would be far more difficult to detect chemically in vessels than would a mixture of pulverized cacao suspended in some liquid, since the dried contents would not penetrate the vessel surface or body. Cacao seeds are encased in a hard shell covered in oils that would not degrade quickly and would, based on preliminary observations, leave scant traces. Further studies on the residues of cacao seeds in terms of maximum storage duration and residue expression require additional experimental evaluation and testing. The stored contents were probably not a cacao slurry, as prolonged storage would have resulted in layers of residue. Archaeological evidence is known, from one burial at Tikal, that at least some cylinder vessels had held cacao seeds: “[i]n the royal Tomb of the Jade Jaguar at Tikal, one of the polychrome Tepeu 2 Maya vases there had the remains of a ‘soup-like’ material. It was dried out … but the remains of the seeds were still quite visible” (Hellmuth Reference Hellmuth2010:1).

The modern process of extracting butterfat was not invented until 1828, when Coenraad Van Houten devised a method that removed the cacao butter from the chocolate liquor (Battcock and Azam-Ali Reference Battcock and Azam-Ali1998; see also Coe et al. Reference Coe, Coe and Huxtable1996). We do not have direct evidence that the Maya produced a dry cacao powder. Even if they did have a means of extracting the butterfat, storage of the hygroscopic powder would have presented several key storage issues in the humid tropics. Additionally, a fully prepared Maya cacao beverage could not have been stored for long without separating and spoiling. The highly significant drink was more likely produced just prior to consumption, thus ensuring the emulsion of the oily cacao into a liquid base to achieve the desired suspension. It would be more likely that cacao was left in bean form during transportation and storage.

From the images and associated texts, we see that large quantities of fermented beverages (e.g., honey/mead, maize/beer, and pulque) were being prepared and consumed. These beverages are shown as being consumed from cups and bowls. Some of these images and texts also occur on the same vessel on which kakaw is indicated in either the PSS or rim text. Cacao is not directly shown in the images, but only implied by the presence of a corresponding vessel form (i.e., a small cylinder vessel) or other iconographic elements. It is likely, then, that these small, undecorated vessels are the drinking vessels, rather than the decorated cylinders. Accordingly, small undercoated bowls and small thick cylinders are also found in the same burials where labeled cylinders have been recovered. These small vessels are the ones in which residues of cacao have generally been found (see Henderson and Joyce Reference Henderson, Joyce and McNeil2006:150; Hurst et al. Reference Hurst, Tarka, Powis, Valdez and Hester2002; McNeil Reference McNeil and McNeil2006; Powis and Cheetham Reference Powis and Cheetham2007; Powis et al. Reference Powis, Howie, Graham, Morris, Jones, Awe and Helmke2006, Reference Powis, Cyphers, Gaikwad, Grivetti and Cheong2011). Further investigation into the correspondences of the decorated cylinder vessels and these small, undecorated vessels is warranted in order to test this hypothesis.

Contextualizing the vessel

A vessel that is designed to communicate the status of an elite or royal individual needs to be distinctive, and sumptuary rules or limitations restricting ownership enacted to keep the value and status of the exclusive item elevated. Those who are unable to own such objects would be aware of such restrictions, and they would identify the vessel as a significant emblem of the owner and/or the owner's status. The color palette and designs employed by the various cylinder-producing workshops are distinctly identifiable with a specific region (i.e., workshop or city-state; see Coe and Kerr Reference Coe and Kerr1998; Miller Reference Miller1999; Miller and Martin Reference Miller and Martin2004; Reents-Budet and Bishop Reference Reents-Budet and Bishop1998; Reents-Budet et al. Reference Reents-Budet, Ball and Kislak1994, Reference Reents-Budet, Bishop, Taschek and Ball2000, Reference Reents-Budet, Boucher-Le Landais, Bishop and Blackman2010). These distinctive palettes are represented even when the vessels are depicted within other scenes, thus indicating the importance not only of the vessels themselves but also of their decoration (Figure 5). Furthermore, as described in 2008 (Loughmiller-Newman Reference Loughmiller-Newman2008), most cylinders were decorated with a primary scene. Typically, this primary scene features the main figure surrounded by his accouterments of office and power, or a main scene of historical or mythological importance. It is possible that this main scene was the display side for approaching viewers (see Loughmiller-Newman Reference Loughmiller-Newman2008).

Figure 5. Image of decorated vessel by main figure (Kerr no. K5353) and example of same decoration (Kerr no. K5599). Photographs © Justin Kerr.

The cylinders were designed with the intention of being immediately recognizable, and to be displayed and viewed in such a way as to emphasize the primary subject of the scene and its eminence. Furthermore, in the depiction of these elite primary subjects there is a limited number of accouterments he or she possess, all of which are denoting elite status and rank. Such a vessel, which has limited utilitarian functions to perform and is less likely to be exposed to regular handling, can be made to be relatively fragile (e.g., extraordinarily thin and unwieldy). It can also be elaborately decorated without fear of rapid degradation from handling and use. Since a significant function of such signaling objects is performed by their visual distinction, any damage or degradation of that visual distinction would subvert that intended and necessary function.

In the full corpus of known Maya iconography, royal accouterments are limited to: footwear, clothing, headdress, jewelry, back rack, staff, weapon, bench/throne, captives, tribute, food, and vessels. Cylinders are among the most commonly depicted vessels and, when present, they are depicted on or near the throne and in close proximity or in presentation to the main figure (typically the king). By its placement, the vessel is effectively a symbol of office or status. The socially and/or politically significant status obtained by the receipt and ownership of such a vessel (and/or its contents) has been widely demonstrated (see for example Adams Reference Adams and Saul1971; Ball Reference Ball, Sabloff and Henderson1993; Houston et al. Reference Houston, Stuart, Taube and Kerr1992; Kerr and Coe Reference Kerr and Coe1989–2000; LeCount Reference LeCount1999; Reents-Budet Reference Reents-Budet and McNeil2006; Reents-Budet et al. Reference Reents-Budet, Ball and Kislak1994, 2000; Stuart Reference Stuart and McNeil2006; Tokovinine and Fialko Reference Tokovinine and Fialko2007:361–362; Valdés Reference Valdés1997). In some cases, the presentation and acceptance of these vessels appears to be contractual (Ball Reference Ball, Sabloff and Henderson1993; Reents-Budet et al. Reference Reents-Budet, Ball and Kislak1994; Rice Reference Rice2009; Rice and Rice Reference Rice and Rice2009). Ownership granted a particular status, emblem of affiliation, and arguably associated rights, which may very well have included a permit for the consumption of a specific substance, or possibly be evidence of a claim to specific resources.

In the case of the cacao-labeled PSS cylinders, that resource would likely be the named cacao, the beans of which would be contained in the vessel. This might explain repaired vessels, where cracks were sown back together to preserve the symbol, yet an insufficient repair to contain a liquid. Repaired vessels or vessels bearing a parent's name transferred from the owner to another heir in the line of succession may have indicated an inheritance of such contract or permit. The handing over of such a powerful item might have been similar to the “investiture ceremonies at which particular privileges were transferred form [sic], or shared with, one closely-related individual to another” (Helmke Reference Helmke2010:10). The owner of the vessel thereby has the privilege to have cacao available, presumably if the vessel is intact or the social contract exists. Not only were the cylinders never meant to hold liquid cacao, they were instead likely functioning as writs or deeds that held dried cacao beans.

If the PSS-labeled cylinders were not only a valued status item but also granted the owner stakes in cacao and/or its consumption, this may help explain middens where similarly decorated and labeled vessels were presumably used and immediately destroyed (e.g., Calakmul Structure 12). These middens may be evidence of events in which vessels were employed, status temporarily granted, then the permitting vessels taken out of circulation, no lasting symbol. “Through the provision of food and drink, hosts repay old social debts and create new ones” (Hendon Reference Hendon and Bray2003:205). Firth's (Reference Firth, Leach and Leach1983) model of “indebtedness engineering” suggests that social obligations can be as valuable as physical goods. Feasting creates a social event or “political-symbolic drama” (Cohen Reference Cohen1964), where the individuals involved are obligated to form or promote certain interests of the host within a highly symbolic set of social constraints (Dietler Reference Dietler, Wiessner and Schiefenhövel1996:91). The consumption of goods during a feast immediately removes them from circulation. In some cases, durable goods are terminated at the conclusion of the event, thereby removing those objects from further circulation (Boas Reference Boas1920; Codere Reference Codere1950; Rathje Reference Rathje, Masson and Freidel2002; Trigger Reference Trigger1990:124–128). The removal of goods from circulation, whether by destruction or consumption, serves to maintain or increase the value of the remaining objects. Presently, midden evaluation will remain as speculation until more evaluations of these deposits are conducted.

It is also possible that the statements in the PSS are directed at an imagined reader or listener who is in a situation where the cylinder vessel could be seen, read, and understood – both in the presence of the text and in the presence of the vessel (or vessels) to which the text refers. This is consistent with the widely-held view that these vessels may have been given out at large feasts (such as those described by Fray Diego de Landa Calderon in 1524; see Tozzer Reference Tozzer1941:90) involving many members of the elite – both important individuals named on vessels made for them personally and others who are referred to only generically by their status. An abbreviated abstract of the PSS statement – that “N's drinking vessel for cacao is raised” (under the proposed reading t'ab-i, literally “it goes up”; Stuart Reference Stuart1995, Reference Stuart and Houston1998) – would be consistent with such a setting, among others. It may also be noted that, once given at such feasts, these messages could be appropriate on other occasions, such as in the homes of the owners of the individual vessels. If this is then the case, the PSS appears to be noting the participation and standing of the elite owners of these vessels who were attendees at major feasts, ritual, or rites.

The PSS remains formulaic when found on other vessel forms, monuments, clothing, and jewelry. “Remarkably, the same verbal constructions appear on a very wide-range of objects and monuments, and it seems quite clear that we are dealing with a highly formalized dedicatory formula used by scribes to mark the activation of precious things and monuments” (Stuart Reference Stuart2005:5). The alterations to the PSS text adjust for carving or painting, the object type inscribed, and the owner or artisan and titles. The rigid nature of this inscription suggests that the standardization must reflect a well-established and understood function. While the concepts of dedication, commemoration, and presentation are all semantically at play, they are under-specifying the purpose of the PSS text.

The PSS-labeled vessels, the substances, the depicted events, and ultimate terminal context are clearly ritual. The PSS is an active phrase and is applied to artifacts that are activated, as noted by Stuart (Reference Stuart2005). For the Maya, ritual events regularly were cosmologically derived reenactments. Images of rituals suggest, and associated texts frequently indicate, that one or more elite individuals is channeling or acting “in the image of” a god. The foodstuffs present in these rituals, as depicted, are products associated with gods themselves, as known through the Madrid Codex, murals such as those at San Bartolo, and in vessel images. The PSS then, in part, could act as a sanctifying medium for the vessel, thereby activating the food and rendering it ritually consecrated, in other words, not just cacao but godly cacao.

Maize and cacao were of supreme cosmological importance in the origins of life and order, therefore under certain circumstances or ritual performances, consuming those foods would have been a reenactment of divine events. The mythological creation story told in the Popol Vuh describes how the creator gods formed humans from maize collected at the Mountain of Sustenance at Paxil Cayala, as well as the epic of the death and resurrection of the Maize God, and the actions of his sons The Hero Twins (Alcorn et al. Reference Alcorn, Edmonson, Vidales, Staller, Tykot and Benz2006; Christenson Reference Christenson2004; Colop Reference Colop1999; Sachse Reference Sachse and Staller2008; Sharer and Morley Reference Sharer and Traxler1994; Stross Reference Stross, Staller, Tykot and Benz2006; Tedlock Reference Tedlock1996; Townsend Reference Townsend2000). Scenes inspired by this epic are commonly depicted on the cylinders.

The Maize God (One Hunahpu) is at once both living maize and the food, as well as the origin of cacao. He is shown sprouting cacao pods from his body: “Classic Maya sources… give cacao a privileged position as the first or most prominent among the fruit tress grown from the Maize god's body” (Martin Reference Martin and McNeil2006:155, 163). The first cacao beverage was said to be produced by Hunahpu, the son of the Maize God (see Bourbourg Reference Bourbourg1858:499). Moreover, the severed head of the Maize God at one point in the story becomes part of the calabash tree in the underworld (Christenson Reference Christenson2004:126). Calabashes (or bottle gourds) were commonly used as vessels, and were used as inspiration for later clay vessel forms. Tedlock (Reference Tedlock2002) described a wedding event where cacao was served to guests in gourd or clay bowls resembling gourds. These vessels were symbolically linked to the gourd skull of the Maize God: “[i]n other words, dear wedding guests, you are now drinking from the skull of the very person whose story we are telling” (Tedlock Reference Tedlock2002:172).

The highly ornate and labeled cylinders were a powerful visual element. They were both a container and visible symbol related to some aspect of the foods of the gods, exclusive to the elites and ritually bound. There are likely numerous reasons why such cylinders could have been given, and their nature and association with these foods and cosmological events of supreme importance in Maya society suggest intent related to those associations behind their design. A durable symbol such as this was likely manipulated throughout its employment in the Late Classic according with changing trends, alliances, and ritual needs. The social importance of these associated foods and events, however, strongly suggests that the intent behind the creation and possession of these vessels should not be simply viewed in terms of mere food presentation vessels.

Purpose, Use, Purpose, and Function of the created artifact

The proper definition and conceptualization of artifact function has attracted some significant theoretical attention in archaeology and in philosophy of science (see Dennett Reference Dennett1990; Houkes and Meijers Reference Houkes and Meijers2006; Kitamura and Mizoguchi Reference Kitamura and Mizoguchi1999; Scheele Reference Scheele2006; Vaesen and van Amerongen Reference Vaesen and Amerongen2008) due to the ambiguous ontological construction of the concept. The philosophical difficulty in such discussions is very explicitly illustrated by the case examined in this paper. Specifically, the function of an artifact relates not only to how the object was actually used, but also the combination of social contexts and intentions of both the maker and the user of the object. This ambiguity is concisely described by Houkes and Meijers (Reference Houkes and Meijers2006:119), who note that:

Although Houkes and Meijers are discussing the metaphysics of created objects (i.e., “artefacts”) generally, the duality they identify is both particularly interesting and problematic in archaeological contexts, for which such intentions and contexts are the unknown subjects of interpretation. The intentions of both the maker of an object and its user(s) are unknowns. The archaeological use of the term function, therefore, can be somewhat vague in that it may variably refer to why an object was created, how it was used, the social context of its use, behavioral activities denoted by the object's presence or use, or some amalgamation of the above. Further, their second point, that function cannot be reduced to physical form, is especially pertinent to archaeological interpretation. It is essential for the following discussion, then, to distinguish between the specific connotations of the terms purpose, use, and function.

Any intentionally made object once served at least one purpose, which is its intended function and reason for its creation and/or curation. Artifacts can and often do serve multiple purposes throughout their life prior to eventual discard, termination, or abandonment. In this sense, purpose refers to the intentionality of the active behavioral agent in creating or utilizing said artifact, rather than an intrinsic characteristic of the object itself. This does not mean, however, that the artifact served any specific use in a customary utilitarian sense. Use in this connotation refers to the specific way that object was employed, which can be irrespective of its original or otherwise customary purpose. The actual use of an artifact is limited only by its physical capabilities, which is not necessarily constrained by prior intentions (e.g., a coffee mug or cup used to hold pencils; see Brooks Reference Brooks2005; Henrickson Reference Henrickson and Kingery1990; Rice Reference Rice1987:139, Reference Rice, Leonard and Jones1989, Reference Rice1996).

Function refers to the intersection of the intentionality of purpose and the enacted event of use. Interpretations of function require describing the full potential and capacity of an object both to fulfill a role or roles in the sense of both its objective use (e.g., a “cup-shaped vessel containing wine”) and its contextual purpose (e.g., a “Communion chalice filled with a sacrament of the Eucharist”). Archaeologically, use can be determined through empirical evidence such as visible and identifiable remains or through some method of residue analysis whereas purpose must be inferred by contexts of use. Therefore, interpretations and any subsequent classifications of artifacts based on their function require both the contextual indications of purpose as well as an empirical assessment of use, each informed by the other.

Interpretation of purpose without specific evidence regarding use would be speculative, whereas description of use without the context of purpose only indicates action/event rather than behavior. Functional explanation in archaeology needs both the contextual and empirical data for artifacts and assemblages to enable such interpretations, or risks the inversion of functional explanation described by Kincaid (Reference Kincaid1990:343). Use simply describes, in the simplest physical sense, what is done with or to the object (e.g., an object that holds down loose papers). Purpose is wholly dependent on intention and contextual knowledge (e.g., a “paperweight”). Use and purpose are independent concepts that coincide only through the actions of a sentient agent enacting a use for a purpose, thereby initiating a function. An inanimate object obviously cannot have intent, so purpose is initially dependent on the object's maker and subsequently its user/consumer.

Conceptualization of function, therefore, cannot be established within one singular frame of reference. Any consideration of function must include an artifact's use and its purpose from the perspectives of both a social actor and either a real or a hypothetical observer within that social context. Function, then, is also closely related to behavior as social performance (Alexander Reference Alexander2004; Alexander and Smith Reference Alexander, Smith and Turner2001). The performance aspect of behavior that expresses the contextual purpose of an object's use is a matter of perception of purpose by the actor or ascribed intent by the observer. Once purpose is derived from the intentions of the social actor who is directly using the object or interacting with that object. Another purpose (or set of purposes), however, derives from the perspective of the observer(s) of the performance. Transmitter/actor and receiver/observer each have a contextual frame of reference for what is being communicated in the use of an object within those referential contexts. This relationship between communicator and receiver reinforces a dynamic interaction where symbolic referents are acknowledged and purpose is established contextually through intentional use.

This is where use and purpose overlap. Purpose speaks to motives that are not intrinsic to the object itself, and use is what actions are undertaken by a purposeful agent in utilizing the object. Since intent cannot be the property of a non-sentient object itself, purpose derives only from the mind of a human agent and the perceptions associated with the cultural contexts of the enactment of that purpose. An object, in and of itself, only has a use. An artifact as a piece of material culture has purposeful function only through the intents of the agent of its use, and those purposes are only extant in the minds and perceptions of the people around it. Artifact function related to purpose is thereby dependent on agent motives to determine both use and purpose contextually through actions. This renders both use and purpose independently dynamic aspects of function, and therefore these qualities depend on both actors and observers throughout the use-life of an object.

Although there are certain pragmatic constraints imposed by an object's design, nothing intrinsically ensures any specific intended use. As such, morphological form cannot be the sole or primary basis used to determine the function of vessels without substantial corroboration through other lines of evidence. Determination and/or differentiation of such an artifact's intended or alternate uses, absent direct observation of use or naive reliance on morphological characteristics, requires an assessment of both observable evidence for use and the contextual parameters to ascertain purpose. Neither aspect alone is sufficient basis for a full functional interpretation, nor should one simply be presumed from the other, as each aspect is necessary.

Contemporary theoretical trends toward “symmetrical” approaches (e.g., Olsen Reference Olsen2007; Shanks Reference Shanks2007; Witmore Reference Witmore2007) attempt to address the dichotomy between utilitarian and symbolic aspects of material culture, citing the counter-productivity of segregating material versus social (or emic versus etic) interpretations. Olsen (Reference Olsen2007:586) describes this inter-relationship of the material and the social, saying:

This, in certain superficial respects, is the approach promoted here, in that both the action of use and the intention of purpose are required to constitute and adequate interpretation of artifact function.

My approach diverges from the symmetrical approach, however, in other critical respects. I am primarily concerned with the intersection of multiple empirical and inferential lines of evidence (e.g., Wylie Reference Wylie1989) and their contribution to an understanding of the artifact's practical and social functions simultaneously. Although the emphasis here has been on reconciling the cylinders and their contexts with the empirical lack of residues, I do not agree with a complete social embedding of object and context as equivalent or indistinguishable entities sharing some abstract form of agency. In this, the parsing of function presented here shares more in common with pragmatics (e.g., Preucel Reference Preucel2016; Preucel and Bauer Reference Preucel and Bauer2001) as approached from the empirical (rather than semiotic) direction, which was necessitated by the seemingly contradictory information presented by residues analysis, archaeological classification of artifacts, and epigraphy or iconography.

Material and quantitative empirical analyses can address both use (in the mundane, pragmatic sense) and purpose (in the contextual, constructivist sense), but only by dispensing with: (1) categorical classificatory systems derived from mono-functional ascriptions based on form; (2) functional a priori templates derived from modern classificatory assignments; and (3) overreliance on textual/iconographic literality. Social sciences have largely moved away from functionalist explanations of behavior, but certain basic assumptions of functional explanation have remained intrinsic to material studies (e.g., discussions in Brooks Reference Brooks2005; Dennett Reference Dennett1990; Houkes Reference Houkes2006; Houkes and Meijers Reference Houkes and Meijers2006). Functional categorization of artifacts, based on presumptive use, typically form the basis of assemblage pattern analyses. Artifact functions are used as proxy for behavioral activities to describe broader patterns within artifact assemblages that might indicate behavioral contexts.

Functional Classification and Maya Vessels

The parsing of the concept of function presented above, as it pertains to the traditional classifications of Maya vessels, can clarify how ascribed functional categorizations tend to invert the proper order of functional explanation as specified by Kincaid (Reference Kincaid1990). Specifically, the classification of vessels based on formal characteristics inadvertently presupposes function by applying an overly restrictive conceptualization of function and a typological schema that conflates form and use. The overriding problem addressed in this paper is that elite vessels have largely been categorized based on form, which is thereby implying or assuming a function. The problem of such ascribed function based on formal or physical characteristics is most clearly characterized by Houkes (Reference Houkes2006:107):

This passage succinctly identifies a critical problem for functional artifact classifications in archaeology in general. The tautological classification schema created by assumed functions leads us nowhere but where we expected to go. In the case of the Maya vessels discussed here, the standard classification and interpretation of the cylinders has largely erred on both counts identified by Houkes. By using the formal similarities to ethnographic or ethnoarchaeological samples, as well as subsequent ascription of function based on a presumption of literality for the text and images, the proper and intended function(s) of the cylinders was obscured from the outset.

Presuming a vessel to have performed a particular task due only to its form excludes the social actor(s) from consideration. The key aspect of Kincaid's functional explanation, as it pertains to the explanation of artifacts, is that purpose (“sitting”) precedes object (“chair”) such that the order of purpose and object cannot rationally be inverted (e.g., ascribed classifications) or conflated (e.g., the symmetrical premise). Purpose and object must be kept distinct logical entities, regardless of how related. In this case, the formal classifications of a “chocolate pot” or a “tamale plate” presume an explicit use by the nominal modifiers (i.e., “chocolate” or “tamale”), which then impose function as well as use for such vessels. This tautologically establishes an a priori interpretation, based on formal characteristics, through the interpretive categorical assertion. Form may facilitate or constrain specific uses, but function depends on the extrinsic aspect purpose as well.

This is particularly pertinent in the case of sumptuary vessels, which were likely not intended to be used in the same manner as their utilitarian or domestic formal counterparts. Following from prior discussion of functional explanation, a vessel can be manufactured with the intention that it function as a cup, but never actually be used as a drinking vessel (e.g., a shot glass kept as a souvenir or filled with a dessert). Conversely, a vessel could have been designed in the form of a cup but not intended to be used as one (e.g., a trophy, commemorative glass, or other such curio objects). Therefore, if a vessel were designed to look like a cup but not to be used as one, then its intended purpose and subsequent function may, instead, be contingent on its understood representation as a cup to symbolize or elicit some other recognition. In such a case, it would still have an intended purpose for participating in a non-utilitarian or alternate activity and therefore have both a use and a purpose (i.e., function), but not necessarily just the expected functions from the common (or out of context) cues from its morphological attributes.

This is not to say, however, that expectations of function and use should not be kept practical, taking into account physical and morphological characteristics, but only that those should not be the sole consideration. Indeed, archaeologists have identified vessels and artifacts consistent with beverage production (see Loughmiller-Cardinal Reference Loughmiller-Cardinal and Fitzpatrick2018), and confirmed their intended use from murals and other images on the cylinders. The large ollas, for example, are ideal production vessels for alcoholic beverages. Manos and metates are appropriate for grinding corn and cacao beans. The small bowls and cups are readily suitable for drinking. It cannot necessarily, however, reasonably be assumed that these vessels were concurrently used for preparation, service, and consumption, especially in the case of sumptuary goods.

At this time, it has not been determined what the complete assemblages, specific vessels, and associated paraphernalia used in ancient Maya practices and production for any given ritual or formal event. Feasts and other events that include the consumption of foods from the vessels, rather than offerings to the deities or as accompaniment to the deceased, suggest that specific forms would be needed to accommodate the containment of the foodstuffs. On the contrary, what we know from actual elite artifact assemblages recovered during excavation (specifically burial goods) does not cleanly follow with the needs of an individual to imbibe and consume. Either there is an overrepresentation of a certain vessel form, or there is insufficient gear to accommodate consumption needs. Instead, what we find bears little resemblance to the expected assemblage of feasting paraphernalia for a single person. We must instead consider the vessels and archaeological context as evidence of the vessels’ intended use, and ultimately their actual function, and not merely as objects representative of a single ritual deposit or performative task.

Another matter of concern is that elite vessels are habitually viewed simply as the “fancy” version of their utilitarian counterparts. The presumption that elite wares are simply formal variations or domestic goods is flawed from the onset. This sets up a presumptive and tenuous domestic/elite dichotomy that elite goods were produced merely as elevated status counterparts to domestic utilitarian wears. Some of the elegantly designed vessels may indeed be the “good china,” but others show little evidence of wear or have construction and/or decoration that make their practical utility unlikely. In the latter case, their impracticality strongly suggests that their purpose is one of far greater significance than as a fancy version of a serving vessel or container. In addition, presence of text and/or image suggesting specific contents of a vessel or form of vessel further complicates gross categorizations from formal characteristics. The assumption operating here is that, because an image of a food item or a vessel form is illustrated or, more commonly, that a word for a food product is present, then the immediate logical conclusion is that it is a label.

Judging by the archaeological contexts in which they are found and the elaborate treatment and curatorial care, it seems apparent that these vessels are not just fancy dinnerware and their text not simply a label. It seems to be stretching the bounds of credulity to evaluate them as elite-associated but otherwise functional equivalents of utilitarian vessels. These more elaborate treatments would suggest that these objects had significance in and of themselves. Again, this illustrates the inadequacy of basing functional categories on use-forms alone. We must therefore greatly expand the conceptualization of function beyond an object's use. Only by incorporating both use and purpose within this expanded view of function can we fully establish the interpretive utility of these vessels and their role in the ritual performances of Maya elites.