Serapes from Cortés to tourists
By Susan Page August 8, 2008 San Miguel de Allende

Gallery Open House
Historic serape collection
Sat–Sun, Aug 16–17, 11am–5pm
Mini-lecture
Mayer Shacter
Noon & 3pm both days
Galería Atotonilco
For directions, 185-2225

Mexico’s finest collection of historic serapes can be seen right here in San Miguel. A ceramic artist and antique dealer, Mayer Shacter collected his first textile when he was 19 and now has over 200 serapes.

Currently, 17 of his pieces are on display at the new Museo del Sarape y Trages Regionales (Museum of the Serape and Regional Costumes) in Saltillo, the very first of the museum’s changing exhibitions.

Along with the sombrero, the serape is the universally recognized symbol of Mexico, worn over the shoulder by aristocrats, used as a blanket by cowboys and covering walls or beds in homes. Like American quilts or Navajo rugs, serapes also are exquisite works of art, each piece requiring months of work by talented weaving families.

When Cortés arrived in 1519, the Aztecs were already wearing a blanket-type garment. The Spanish influenced the weavings by introducing the pedal loom and domesticated sheep and wool. Worn only by men, serapes were the counterpart to the rebozos and huipiles worn by women. Serapes were the typical garment of workers, horsemen and townsfolk alike. The more refined, beautiful and expensive serapes were worn by hacienda owners and gentlemen at parties or as they strolled through parks and avenues. Insurgents wore them in the War of Independence (1810–20), as did patriots during the wars against the Americans (1846–48) and the French (1862–67).

By 1875, the characteristic zig-zag diamond began to appear in Navajo weavings, derived directly from Mexico through Spanish settlements in Chimayo and New Mexico.

By the 1880s, fashion began to change. Photos from that period show some Mexicans in more conventional Western dress.

As the demand for fine serapes diminished, weavers responded by creating somewhat less intricate designs. Although they were still finely woven, scholars have designated this period of serapes as “post-classic.” The rising middle class continued to wear them as symbols of wealth as they rode through Chapultepec Park or on their walks through the Alameda. The serapes were so gorgeous that artists and travelers from other countries would marvel at their colors and designs.

Then came the Revolution of 1910, when Mexico City mansions were commandeered by insurgents and the lavish haciendas ransacked and destroyed. It was dangerous to be in the upper class and symbols of wealth went underground. Weavers, when they were not out fighting or hiding, probably were making functional pieces for everyday use.

Mexico began to stabilize in 1920 and pride in Mexican popular arts surged. In 1925, a major exhibition of Mexican folk art in Los Angeles introduced tens of thousands of Americans to Mexico’s unusual variety of popular arts and whetted their appetite for travel. Newly equipped with personal snapshot cameras, tourists began to flood Mexico, searching for icons to bring home. The serape became a tourist item and weaving expanded all over Mexico. The serape became a national symbol, draped over the shoulders of mariachis on travel posters. 

San Miguel was a major weaving center, as were Texcoco, San Luis Potosi, Tlascala, Zacatecas and Aguascalientes. Serapes were sold every year at a major trade fair in Saltillo and thus acquired the name “Saltillo serape,” though they were woven all over the country.

American and Canadian tourists eagerly bought serapes, took them home and put them in cedar chests to pull out and display to their friends, or used them as bedspreads or wall hangings and then passed them along to their children.

Now, 70–90 years later, these serapes are appearing at estate sales, auctions and even yard sales in the US or Canada and many are still in mint condition. If Mexicans purchased serapes after the revolution, they used them, so the rare piece found in Mexico is typically in poor condition.

The difference in price between serapes made before 1875 and after is very great, but the difference in quality is small. Serapes from the “classic” period (before 1875) are found in museums, have been well documented and might sell at auction for US$75,000. However, serapes from both the post-classic and the “tourist” periods (1875–1940) have been little collected or studied and are greatly undervalued, selling for several hundred to several thousand dollars.

Weaving as a craft is disappearing from Mexico, with exceptions like Teotetlan del Valle, where weavers still produce hand-woven rugs, though not serapes. In most towns, families stopped weaving 50 years ago, so the serapes we have left are even more precious. The time that goes into creating a serape—from shearing and carding the wool, to spinning and dying the yarn, to setting up the loom and then the months required to weave a piece—means that the price of the finished piece must remain high. Many ceramic pots or carved wood figures can be made in that same time. As the cost of a good serape began to exceed the demand, the craft fell away. The pieces that pass for serapes in tourist shops today, machine-woven with acrylic yarn in DayGlo colors and with little or no center design, bear little resemblance to the spectacular works of art so lovingly created by skilled and devoted hands, when the world was a very different place. 

A serape is a piece of Mexican history, a window into a era that vanished, a souvenir of times and places that can no longer be visited because they no longer exist. Would it be an exaggeration to say that serapes are the Fabergé eggs of Mexico?

Learn more about the history and regional differences of the serapes, how they have evolved over time and how the serape reflects the history of Mexico itself at the lectures by Shacter over the weekend.

Susan Page is the founder and coordinator of the San Miguel Authors’ Sala.

An artist’s dream come true
By Ana Thiel; Photos by Paul Louis

There are times in an artist’s career where the opportunity for pure creativity, without external interruption, with all the help that is needed, arises.

One can then dare to be in a space where the results aren’t as important as the process, where no goal is in sight except for the intuitive voice as a guide, where the spirit opens to what is there, for everything—housing, food, transportation, technical assistance, a working studio—is available.

A dream come true. Last fall I was invited by the Musée du Verre at Sars-Poteries, France, for a two-month residency.

Admittedly the first week was a bit scary. Will something worthwhile emerge after two months’ work? How will I begin? Where? I had presented a project, but left it very open: to work with interesting spaces in nature and human-made structures with my main medium: molten glass, and, for the first time, proposing to incorporate my photography as well.

As only one of two artists a year that the Musée du Verre invites as resident artists, part of me was feeling the weight of responsibility—a museum show was scheduled for the next year. On the other hand, I knew that this was a unique opportunity to allow life to show me the way. And for this, one has to be quiet, open and holding on to a knowingness that all will develop in due time and in form.

I arrived at the small train station of Aulnoye-Almeries and Fabrice Bon, head of the glass studio, stood out, for he is a tall man. He was tentative in the language he was to speak and sighed in relief when I mentioned that I had been listening to innumerable cassettes and later CDs in French and that I would like the opportunity to learn more of the language.

The next morning he took me around the studio: fully equipped hot shop (where the furnace was roaring, waiting), cold shop (all equipment to grind, cut, polish), sandblasting studio, plaster mold studio, and a classroom filled with tables. “All of this is yours for the next two months.” Fa-bu-lous.

The first week was spent working at the ever-ready furnace, small items, getting to know the ambiance, the studio and the people. Fabrice, deeply understanding the project, took me to two places that became pivotal in this residence: Lez Fontaine, a small town that boasts a theatre de verdure, an open-air theater, where I detected a small bit of glass within one of the joints in the stone seating. This was enough to decide to make an imprint of that hollow, which surprisingly became a most beautiful bird shape. The imprint was then turned into a positive mold which then was pressed into sand. This new imprint in the sand was then filled with molten glass to create a series of birds that eventually were placed either in bases or left to fly suspended within the museum and also on a metal structure in the museum’s garden. Each one was created with differing colors and textures. Sand-casting is a very free method that allows for variations that give each piece its own unique character.

Floursies is also a small village, and this time the space that moved me was a water source. The fountain had been offering clean drinking water for over 2,000 years. There was an air of sacredness in and around it. An empty niche stood on the edge of the circular surrounding wall. A certain invitation to create an imprint-mold-sculpture!

Part of my project was to work with larger scale boulders. I was taken to a quarry and given the option to choose several of them. Huge machinery with drivers of differing facial expressions was needed to move and place them on a trailer to be taken to the studio. 

After several tries and trials I arrived at the method of creating the sensation of glass sitting in its hollows as water or ice. I wanted a sense of mystery, of offering, something floating within the “water,” and the idea to place the shape of a hand came through. I created three stones, one with a white hand, one with a red and one with black. They are all designed for the exterior and are now being shown at the museum’s gardens. 

Sculptures speak to me long after I have created them and this series is rather eloquent. 

The sculptures that emerged from the niche at Floursies have an abstract human profile. Within, each one is different. One has the imprint of a cedar branch, another a red circle on the heart area, yet another a star-shape created by the imprint of a metal object that had been used to hold thick walls in many years ago.

The experience of having the space and the time to concentrate completely on the creative process worked very well for me. It was an intense period, yes, exhausting indeed, but so well worth it!

The exhibition at the Musée du Verre is still open until the end of August and an article about it will appear in Glass magazine this fall.

Ana Thiel is a glass artist based in San Miguel. She can be contacted at anathiel@yahoo.com. 

Conquering the fear of jumping
By Carmen Gutierrez

Collective Art Opening
Tim Hazell, Miguel Angel Morales, Marita Terriquez
Sat, Aug 9, 6–8pm
Sun, Aug 10, 12–2pm
Galería Casa Diana
Recreo 48

Galería Casa Diana opens an exhibition this weekend by Tim Hazell, Miguel Angel Morales and Marita Terriquez. Tim Hazell, a Swedish-born painter, musician and poet, presents a series of vibrantly colored and beautifully rendered multimedia paintings. He says, “My themes have to do with the fire and spontaneity of color and gesture.

Music and poetry cross over and influence the palette and directional forces of my work, as does my European background, where folk tales and beliefs run close to the surface of daily life. I’ve studied and been attracted to Oriental art and perspective, as well as native and art naif. I try to consolidate unity and chaos, sheer enjoyment of color married with linear and structural forces.”

Miguel Angel Morales, originally from Monterrey, is a fabulous artist known for his minimalistic metal, concrete, glass and wax sculptures and wall hangings, as well as his stone assemblages. This year he was the winner of first prize (along with Ana Lucia Gomez) of the “concrearte” competition, and will subsequently be building a monumental sculpture on the crossroads of the Periferico and Palmas in Mexico City. The simplicity of his figures and materials convey a sense of deep serenity and a strong equilibrium. His work is simply beautiful.

Marita Terriqez is a young painter from Guadalajara. This exhibition entitled “and in the beginning, there was chaos,” was generated from reflections on the importance of movement and chaos as elements which aid in rupture and advancement, analyzing how times of crisis give an opportunity to resolve old problems. Some of the pieces refer to moments that can form part of an image in motion, others speak of vertigo. “It’s not about trying to overcome the fear of what awaits us, but conquering the fear of jumping. After all, movement is the only constant and humanity exists thanks to that.”

Mexican arts festival coming to the bullring
By Patrice Wynne & Jade Arroyo

Arts Festival
Folk Festival La Guelaguetza & Arts and Crafts Fair
Fri–Sun, Aug 8–10, 10am–7pm
Plaza de Toros Oriente
Recreo 52
Free admission
Dance Performance
Sat & Sun, Aug 9 & 10, 5pm
100 pesos, benefits DIF programs

Just two blocks from the Jardin, if you turn right on Recreo, is an architectural jewel of San Miguel, Plaza de Toros Oriente—the bullring. When you think of bullrings you might think of bulls running wild and cheering crowds. But close your eyes now and dream of dancers, art, beauty, food aromas and cultural exchanges—and this weekend your dream can come true! Bring your family and friends to watch a performance of Oaxacan traditional dancers in gorgeous costumes, share a Mexican comida and shop for original crafts by artisans from Oaxaca, Mexico City, Monterrey, Querétaro, Zacatecas, Dolores Hidalgo and San Miguel.

Oaxaca crafts and products are central to this event, as La Guelaguetza is a Oaxacan dance tradition of the Zapotec culture.

At the Saturday and Sunday performances (5pm only), over 25 women and men will perform traditional dances wearing colorful, hand-embroidered, intricately woven clothing, followed by the sharing of gifts with the crowd, which is the meaning of the dance.

The three-day festival provides an opportunity to support artists and take home a treasure from Oaxaca—huipiles, skirts and blouses, foods such as mole, mezcal and chapulines (grasshoppers), painted wooden animals called alebrijes (dream animals), traditional Oaxacan silver and gold-plated filigree jewelry (the style worn by Frida Kahlo) and the woolen rugs for which the region is known.

These artists have endured challenging times in their villages. By coming to this event and purchasing their crafts you will bring direct financial benefit to them and their families.

Artisans from other parts of Mexico, whose work has never shown before in San Miguel, offer fashions from Cuernavaca, papel amate from Mexico City, natural fiber hats from Michoacán, Alejandra Espinosa’s macrame and seed jewelry from León and Mexican antiguidades (antiques).

Renowned artisans from San Miguel and Pozos also will sell their work—Jade’s hand-woven handbags and vintage huipiles from Guatemala, Venado Azul iron patio art from Pozos and San Miguel Designs’ latest styles of aprons, kimonos, pajamas and men’s Day of the Dead shirts.

Come make history and join the festivities! Spend a day in the bullring, a rare treat in itself as it is rarely open to the public, while delighting in Mexican food, exotic crafts, sipping wine and margaritas, listening to live music, meeting friends, watching the dancers and feeling the pleasures of living in San Miguel.

Photography workshops near Guadalajara

With its inaugural season, Mano Lista Photography Workshops offer photographers the chance to experience the riches of small-town life in Jalisco guided by knowledgeable residents of Zacoalco de Torres and award-winning American photographers. “The rich color and vibrancy of the local traditions are amazing,” says Mano Lista director Sara Puzey. “We want to bring artists to share in real Mexican life far from what tourists typically get to see.”

Zacoalco is a bustling small town of 25,000 located an hour southwest of Guadalajara. It’s a place where you’ll see just as many bicycles in the streets as cars, where family-owned farms and small businesses thrive, and where traditions such as walking around the town square on Sunday nights are still preserved.

Mano Lista is run by residents of Zacoalco and American artists seeking to host a cultural exchange between the small town and the visiting artists. Participating photographers will visit local farms, artisans and festivals, and each workshop will culminate in an exhibition of the group’s work in Zacoalco’s Cultural Center.

Upcoming workshops include Exploring Your Documentary Approach with Steven Gross, November 7–14, and Jane Fulton Alt’s Refining Your Creative Vision, January 9–16, 2009. For more information, go to www.manolistaworkshops.com  or email info@manolistaworkshops.com. 

Mexican artisans introduce Tonalá ceramics to New York
By Judy Newell

“Herencia Milenaria” (Thousand Year Heritage), an exhibition of Tonalá ceramics, opens in New Rochelle, New York on October 25. During the exhibition, members of Herencia Milenaria from the town of Tonalá, Jalisco are showcasing their world-renowned contemporary Mexican ceramic art.

Herencia Milenaria is a civil organization that was born in 2006 in an effort to unite some of the most well-known artisans in Tonalá and provide a vehicle with which artists could place their crafts and culture within international forums.

During the exhibition, celebrations involving the local Mexican population of New Rochelle will take place as well as examples of art, music and food from the town of Jalisco.

Located in the greater metropolitan area of Guadalajara, the small town of Tonalá is a traditional Mexican town where the Colonial era culture is still maintained. Tonalá comes from the Náhuatl word “Tonallan” that means “place from which the sun rises.” The main attractions are in its traditional plaza where locals and guests meet to listen to music, play games, converse and attend markets on Thursdays and Sundays.

Tonalá’s arts and craft market is a magical tradition that transforms the town. From the early hours of the day local craftsmen start filling the streets with colorful figures of animals, clowns and dolls made out of paper-mâché, hand-blown glassware and iron.

There is also plenty of food. Small restaurants and stands offer typical dishes such as pepián (a stew that contains squash and nuts seeds similar to mole), campechanas (cocktail mix of octopus, shrimp and abalone, and steaming birria (braised goat and lamb meat) and drinks like white atole (a warm almost porridge-like drink made thick with masa), champurrado (a special hot chocolate thickened with masa), tejuino (fermented maize drink) and lemon water.

But the town’s most popular attraction is its high quality clay creations. From plates and pots to masks and miniature figures, the crafts that Tonolá’s artisans offer are one of a kind and made with techniques influenced by indigenous, Spanish and modern techniques. Ten different styles of finishes can be viewed at the Museo Nacional de la Cerámica de Tonalá (The National Museum of Tonalá Ceramics).

Source: Mexican Tourism Board

Judy Newell, a writer and travel industry executive, heads the custom tour company Perfect Journeys. Contact her with comments or suggestions at JudyNewell_03@msn.com  or go to her website www.PerfectJourneys.net. 

Sumi-e: Paintings in Chinese ink

Yasuaki Yamashita arrived in Mexico in 1968—the year Mexico City hosted the Olympic Games—thus beginning a new life after living the previous 28 years in Nagasaki, Japan. During the Olympics he worked for the Japanese press corps and subsequently for Japanese firms established in Mexico.

During this time he became acquainted with many artists and museum directors. These new friends rekindled his interest in painting, dormant since his school days. Mainly self-taught, he paints in oils, acrylics, watercolor and especially “Sumi-e,” a traditional Japanese style using Chinese ink, which he studied under the Japanese master Aisetsu. Yamashita has shown his work in museums and galleries in Mexico City, Acapulco, Querétaro and San Miguel.

Yamashita also works in clay. More than 10 years ago, he began to study ceramics at the Corcoran School of Art in Washington, DC. The Biennial of Utilitarian Ceramics, organized by the Franz Mayer Museum in Mexico City, selected his work on two occasions. His ceramics also have been shown in the Museum of the City, Querétaro and Bellas Artes in San Miguel. Currently, Galería Estudio and Ar & Ar Gallery in Fábrica la Aurora are showing his paintings and ceramics.