By Jacqueline Charles
By profession, Ira Paul Lowenthal was a U.S.-born anthropologist and ethnologist whose years of research on Haitian families and death rituals made him a go-to -expert on the country’s cultural landscape
But Lowenthal was more than just a Haiti scholar. To those who knew him, he was a defender of the country’s culture who, when not promoting local artists and artisans, immersed himself in trying to help shape its decades-long struggle with democracy through various aid initiatives.
Lowenthal died Wednesday in Loxahatchee, a community in Palm Beach County, after a nearly four-year battle with cancer, said his only child, Alena Lowenthal, a former employee at the Miami Herald. He was 74.
He “was a beloved son, brother, father, grandfather and friend,” she wrote in a note announcing his death. “He was known for his quick wit, deep love of Haiti, passion for music, appreciation of good food and drink and his ever-present enthusiasm for lively social gatherings and entertaining.”
He “touched the lives of many through his work and friendship over the course of his rich and vibrant life,” she added about her dad, who was also known for his strong personality and often fiery responses that left little doubt about his position when confronted with a problem.
During his stint in the hospital, Lowenthal summed up his decades-long love affair with Haiti and the country’s hold on him. On a hospital board he wrote in English and Haitian-Creole, “Haiti stole my soul; throw away the key! Se pa ti jwet man, pa ti jwet ditou!!!!”
Ira Paul Lowenthal was born in Jersey City, New Jersey, to Alan Lowenthal and Doris Zinick. He graduated from Yale University and earned an advanced degree from Johns Hopkins University. While professors in college deepened his curiosity and interest in Haiti, his introduction came courtesy of his dad, a jazz drummer who owned a set of Haitian drums.
In 1972, Lowenthal made his first visit to Haiti and decided to not only make the country the focus of his academic and professional life, but to call it home until his cancer diagnosis forced him to seek treatment in Florida with his daughter.
From 1976 to 1980, he conducted fieldwork in the southern community of Duverger, Haiti, the first of many rural communities he lived in throughout his life. His research culminated in the birth of Alena and his 400-page doctoral dissertation, “Marriage is 20, Children are 21: The Cultural Construction of Conjugality and the Family in Rural Haiti.” Other published work also include, “A Service for the Gods in Southern Haiti,” which look at religious rituals.
Such understanding came in handy, especially after Haiti’s 2010 earthquake, when reporters and others were trying to understand the devastation, and what it meant for so many of the more than 300,000 who perished in the disaster to be denied a proper burial.
In a Herald story at the time, Lowenthal remarked that Haitians save their entire lives to build tombs more elaborate than their own homes and their “job in life is to prolong the chain of succession.”
Death rituals “give us dignity of our past. That’s what the Haitian family is about,” he said “ When you break that chain and bury the dead without anybody knowing, it disrupts everything.”
Lowenthal was known for his directness and no-holds barred assessment on the country’s vexing politics. When several members of the Congressional Black Caucus penned a letter in support of then-Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide on the eve of Haiti’s bicentennial of its liberation from France, Lowenthal accused the lawmakers of sounding like the president’s lobbyists.
“Peaceful protest has been stifled by Aristide’s armed thugs, whose operations recall those of the dreaded Tonton Macoutes and paramilitary forces that supported Haitian dictators,” he wrote in an op-ed that appeared in the Herald on Oct. 31, 2003.
“Journalists are harassed, forced into exile or assassinated,” Lowenthal added. “Jurists and other officials have fled the country rather than execute Aristide’s personal directives. Political and civic leaders who oppose Aristide’s march to supremacy are targeted for elimination — along with their families. Even the president’s minions are starting to defect.”
He signed the letter as a founding board member of the Haiti Democracy Project, a non-governmental organization that included former U.S. ambassadors and was involved in elections monitoring.
Lowenthal also worked behind the scenes helping Haitian parliamentarians, an effort that often came with its own frustration. He also took on aid contracts with various non-governmental groups funded by the U.S. Agency for International Development, the Inter-American Development Bank and others.
Lowenthal was a collector of Haitian art and, with his wife, Alexis Gardella, who preceded him in death, owned Men Nou art gallery in Pétion-Ville. The gallery promoted the work of local artisans and artists.
“His soul moved to the rhythm of its own drum, pulsing with the heart of Haiti — a life lived with purpose, passion and the unwavering hope that good would eventually prevail,” his daughter said.
In addition to Alena and her son, grandson Imani-Hans Ngalame, Lowenthal is survived by son-in-law Ralph Cassagnol and Alena’s mother, his first wife, Clémène Adrien. He’s also survived by stepson Owen Michael; Michael’s stepfather, Jerome Carp; siblings, Edward Carp and Wendy Gallo and several other relatives.
He was preceded in death by his parents, Alan and Doris; his wife of over 20 years, Alexis Gardella, and his three sisters, Phyllis, Randi and Sue.
Per his request, there will be no traditional religious services, but a celebration of life will be held in his honor in the next few weeks.
This story was originally published April 28, 2025 at 6:23 PM.
Jacqueline Charles has reported on Haiti and the English-speaking Caribbean for the Miami Herald for over a decade. A Pulitzer Prize finalist for her coverage of the 2010 Haiti earthquake, she was awarded a 2018 Maria Moors Cabot Prize — the most prestigious award for coverage of the Americas.
