Happy Krampus Day: December 5th:
The myth of the Krampus has its roots in the dark
backwater of western culture, in the ancient folklore of tribal
peoples spread across the land now called Europe….
Millenia before the mythic figure known as the Christ rose to prominence, the ancients celebrated the Winter Solstice, the sun’s death and rebirth on the longest night of the year. History shows us that the Christians moved their holiest day to the Winter Solstice in a futile attempt to replace the irrepressible heathen winter celebration and its pagan beliefs which carry on today even in so-called Christian homes.
Krampus is one of many “dark helpers†who travel with Saint Nicholas, the gift-giver known by Americans as Santa Claus. While Santa occasionally plays both ‘good cop and bad cop’ (checking his list to see who’s naughty or nice), European Christmas traditions still include a punishing assistant known by many names: Knecht Ruprecht, Pelzebock and Klaubauf (Germany), Black Peter (Netherlands), Krampus (Germany, Austria), sometimes simply the Devil (Czech, Slovak Republic). In any case his ancestor is the same Horned God demonised by the Church as the Devil and “Satan.†Santa Claus and the Krampus evolved from the same pagan archetype from whence came the Wild Man and the horned Devil, all central figures in the mythology of pre-Christian Europe. Indeed, the cultural roots of Santa—and Satan—and his elves–and devils–are at least ten times older than Christ. With Christmas ostensibly about Christ, one must ask why Santa has become the chief mythic figure of the highest of Christian holidays. One must answer: Santa and alter-ego Krampus continue to shape human consciousness and his influence is clearly on the rise.
The hideous Krampus is a shaggy monster with horns, covered with bells and dragging chains. In Bavaria, St. Nikolaus is followed by a similar horned creature, called Klaubauf; in Styria this attendant is named Bartel. Krampus carries the presents for the good and a birch stick or lumps of coal for the naughty ones. It is rumored that naughty children might get put in the sack and taken along to hell.
In other variations on the theme (and there a lot of variations considering what a relatively small geographical area we’re talking about here), Krampus is one of Santa’s minions, who follows along obediently passing out presents or switches depending on the moral turpitude of the child in question. Presumably, this would make the pointy-eared Krampus kind of the template for Santa’s elves in later Rankin-Bass productions, but the jury is still out among the scholarly community on this subject.
Then, all the adults go out and gets drunk, and much hilarity ensues.
The other interpretation of Krampus is more mystical. Under this theory, people dress up in the hideous masks of Krampus in order to scare off evil spirits.
If so, this is in keeping with a pretty universal traditional use of masks in religious ritual; the concept of a fearsome visage that wards off cowardly evil spirits has a lot of pedigree, and not just in the snowy mountains of Germanic Europe where people get a little unbalanced in the winter (remember Krystallnacht?).In Hindu mythology, Black Makhala fills the Krampus role, while the Japanese wore masks that were supposed to be lions, but frankly look more like Benji.
The Krampus masks benefit from being particularly grotesque, or to be more accurate, stupid-looking. Let’s just say Hindus have a better aesthetic sense than Austrians. Krampus masks suffer from the silliness of the whole Christian devil image, but occasionally he’s presented as passably scary looking. Especially if you’re eight years old.
Krampusnacht (the night of the Krampus) is rapidly gainingcelebrants across the world. Most often observed on St. Nicholas’ Day (December 6th) or its eve, revellers invoke the spirit of Krampus by mumming (frightening innocents with horrible masks and garb), hitting people with sticks, carousing generally, and other devilish activities.
A cottage industry in Austria from Victorian times through the present has been the production of Krampus postcards to commemorate the holiday season. These tend to feature Krampus and his prodigious tongue assailing various Betti Page-type pinup girls (or even pure-hearted Austrian housefraus) with his lecherous advances.
During World War II, Krampus shamefully pandered to the Nazis in such postcards, doing a series of propaganda appearances in which he trounced and embarrassed British and French citizens and soldiers. After WWII, it was rumored that Krampus fled to Brazil and took part in an evil cloning scheme, but our team of investigators has failed to confirm those reports.
A growing interest in Krampusnacht takes inspiration from traditional European Krampus holiday cards, which range from the comical to the truly terrifying. A number of these postcards and images are reproduced herein to incite your Krampus worship.
Sources: KRAMPUS.COM and ROTTEN.COM and google images.
Visual artist Cameron Jamie produced the film Kranky Klaus, following the village ritual of Krampus through small villages high in the Austrian Alps. The film was scored by noise artists Keiji Heino and the Melvins. Its USA premeire was at the Walker Art Center and it was selected for the 2006 Whitney Biennial. A selection of drawings and masks by the artist and inspired by Krampus is on view at the Bernier-Eliades Gallery site: Cameron Jamie: Five Krampus Masks
This blog from the Walker Arts Center talks about Cameron’s Kranky Klaus and has some great illustrations.
“Jamie’s film, Kranky Klaus, is part of his eponymous exhibition opening at the Walker on Sunday. In it, footage of rampaging Krampusse–who, by one account “stalk young women, fondling them, throwing them over their shoulders and whipping them with wooden switches until their shins and thighs are black and blue“–is set to the music of regular Jamie collaborators, the Melvins (who also provide the soundtrack for the artists’ films on backyard wrestling and spookhouses, both screening during the show). If the pranks and perversions of the beasts aren’t frightening enough–and, if you watch the response from the kids in the film, they are frightening–their costumes should do the trick:
The wooden mask with genuine goat- and ram-horns, the sheepskin coat and the bell-belt are family possessions. The oldest Krampus masks are exhibited. They are carved wooden masks with pointed animal ears and fangs in a “Dracula-like styleâ€.