The Nuestras Historias exhibit at the National Museum of Mexican Art is filled with stories of Mexican identity from the Permanent Collection Gallery. This exhibit contains the work of many artists who have various backgrounds, which is one reason why this is such a diverse collection. The exhibit contains many sculptures and paintings, but one thing they all have in common is that they tell a cultural story about a person’s identity through some very difficult times on both sides of the U.S. – Mexican border in the late 1900s and early 2000s.
My favorite piece, “Sun Mad” made by Ester Hernández in 1989, is dedicated to the artist’s father who was a farm worker from the San Joaquin Valley in California. Hernández first hand saw how pesticides and water contamination affected Mexican and Philippine field laborers in the grape/raisin industry. This led her to transform the well-known Sun Maid logo into an icon for agricultural business hazards. The piece has very vibrant colors and can be viewed from three different angles due to its 3-D nature, which shows three different images. Below the hung piece of art were many sunflowers and other objects (lunch bag, grapes, hat, farming gloves) that complimented the overall aesthetic of the work.
Looking from the left, a picture of what seems to be a farmer is portrayed with overalls, a hat, and a scarf. The farmer has a pair of sheers in hand and looks to be working hard in the field. Something to consider is that the hat is probably being worn to help with the grueling sun, and the scarf isn’t worn normally, but instead is covering the farmer’s nose and mouth. This could have been a way for the farmer to protect herself from any pesticides, dust, or any other harmful chemicals. The center view shows the typical Sun Maid logo with the red box and golden sun behind a smiling girl who has crops in her hand, but instead of the girl being alive, this image portrays a skeleton. Something to notice is that the skeleton is still smiling and holding the crops, which could be seen as a depiction of how people were being harmed and dying from the hazards, but still kept a smile on their faces and completed their work to make an honest living. This is an ongoing theme through Latin American history for the oppressed. Additionally, whatever normal wording the Sun Maid logo includes has been replaced with “Unnaturally grown with pesticides, miticides, herbicides, and fungicides” which is the literal message the artist is trying to make known.
The image seen from the right side is identical to the image from the left side except rather than the face having skin on it, it is a skeleton. Essentially the difference between the original Sun Maid logo and the center view are paralleled with the left vs. right view of the artwork. This work of art incorporates both modern and traditional indigenous elements. The author sends a clear message from what was otherwise a “faceless farmworker community”. The artist had very clear opinions about this issue in society and may have felt like this was her main outlet for expressing herself. This work intertwines art, culture, and activism like many of the other pieces in this exhibit.
Another piece that really spoke to me, called “I Can’t Pass (Performance Documentation at Tijuana / San Diego Border)” was made in 2005 by Ana Teresa Fernández. This work of art is oil on canvas, which uses dull colors and a linear focal view. The horizontal painting has a wall as the main focus that seems to extend forever, because of how it fades into the distance. The main controversy is the woman in the corner who is wearing a minimal amount of clothing and has a garment in her hand, which she seems to have just recently taken off. She’s facing the wall, which makes you wonder who or what she’s waiting for and who or what she’s trying to avoid on her side of the wall. This piece emphasizes political and social issues that relate women and sexuality. According to the artist, she wears a prototypical “little black dress”, as “a symbol of prosperity and femininity in the U.S.” The body of the woman can be seen as a metaphor to explore stereotypes and pushes different boundaries.
The wall has red bold letters painted in Spanish. The first line says “no puedo pasar” which is translated to “I can not pass” and the second line says “ante el dolor de tantabente” which translates to “in the face of so much pain”. There are crosses mounted on the wall as well that have the words “no identificado” or “unidentified” on them rather than a name of a person who passed away. The crosses mounted on the wall add to the image of the mourning woman. The fact that the woman is all alone in this work of art can also signify how woman felt like they were alone in this struggle and sometimes as if they had no other option other than to sell their bodies to make a living. This reminded me of Michael Donoghue’s book Borderland on the Isthmus. Specifically, his section on how many women used prostitution as a way to climb the ladder of social class and how some women felt as though this was their only chance for what looked like a better life. Additionally, the piece shows that the sun is shining on the other side of the border, which probably represents how many believed the “better life” they were looking for was in America or the land across the border.
Like the “Sun Mad”, this next work of art also had a hung portion and a 3-D counter part. “R.S.I” is a mixed media installation made in 2000 by Marcos Paya. Workers who were required to do the same tasks day after day, like machines, often endured repetitive stress injuries or R.S.I. These workers usually had to put up with “grimy, substandard conditions” in order to keep their jobs and work towards what they saw as the American Dream. Although the overall display contains many pieces, all of them are dull in color and have an overall industrial vibe.
In the center of the display, hangs a canvas. There is a man with an arm made of human flesh and metal pieces like one of a robot. The man looks tired, old, and has dirt and stress/age lines all over his face. His hand is on his heart as if he were reciting the pledge of allegiance and Lady Liberty’s crown is on his head. This shows how he’s working towards the American Dream, but is losing pieces of himself while doing so. Behind him is a falling clock with no minute or hour hands. This could be a symbol for how the days are passing by, and the worker is losing track of how long he has been working like a machine. The background is of a dull factory building with R.S.I painted on top. The pipes in the background are all intertwined in a way that makes them look like a complicated web that can almost be seen like a trap. Once you step into it, there may not be a way out. This is probably how many of the workers felt during this time. They were sucked into this cycle of work and probably didn’t receive the compensation or credit they deserved.
Around the canvas, are dirty gloves used by workers. Some of the fingers have been bent and cut off. This can be seen as a symbol for the injuries that the workers faced in the factories. Additionally, mounted on the wall are multiple wheel blades with sharp rusty edges to once again depict the unsafe environment these people were expected to be in day after day. There are other random objects, tools, and scrap metal included in the display, but overall everything is rusty and tarnished. This installation considers a typical urban immigrant experience of working in factories along the city’s industrial corridors. The artist explains how immigration from rural farmlands across the U.S. forever changed the face of this city and the character of the neighborhoods, including Pilsen, by introducing a bicultural characteristic.
A piece called “When the Opportunist is King, Women Are a Commodity” was made by Cecilia Concepción Alvarez in 2009. This piece touched upon workplace inequalities for women while having a man as a ruler. The artist highlights “larger social ills that many Mexican women endure – sexism, abuse, harassment, workplace inequality, and lack of socio-economical opportunities”. During this time period, many low and low-middle class women were found missing and later dead. This work of art is a vibrant oil on canvas.
On the left, there are women who are in distress. Some are running away, some have fallen to the ground, and some are mid air and look as though they’ve been shot. They’re all facing what looks like an army of armed soldiers firing at them. In the middle, are endless lines of men who are all in the same al clothing, with the same bag in their right hand, and are all facing/going towards men who are spatially painted above them. These few men who are “above” the common lines of men are most likely politicians with some form of power. One of the most interesting things is that the heads of the politicians have lines leading to a much larger man who is spatially above them in the paining. The head of this man is depicted as a cash register with money signs where eyes should be. Above the cash register, where the brain should be is a a circuit box as if this higher being is completely brain washing all the men beneath him to just focus on money and to not care about what’s going on around them. Looking closer, you can see that the lines of men actually have peripheral blind folds on, which shows that they really can’t see what’s going on around them and are solely focused on what the higher being wants them to focus on. Further to the right, is a naked woman with her legs spread open, some type of cuff on her neck, and her torso inhumanly tiny (probably due to starvation). She is also intertwined and constrained by ropes from all direction. This is a depiction of not only how women were not valued, but also how they were being taken advantage of against their will during this time period.
A piece called “It’s All Ours! with the General Strike for Industrial Freedom” was made by Carlos Cortéz in 1974. Carlos Cortéz was one of Chicago’s greatest social activists. His life’s work was dedicated to the struggle for equal rights and social justice for all people. The massive amount of prints he created and the poems he wrote all expressed his passions and commitment to the greater cause that he fully believed in. Cortez had a strong message that he tried to communicate to the Pilsen community. The display shows a physical print in black and white with a bold red heading that says, “It’s all ours!” Hung next to the print, is the original press template.
The poster says “with the general strike for industrial freedom” in bold capital letters. There is an arm reaching out from the bottom left with a set of keys. The arm belongs to a rich businessman and is being extended towards a group of Mexican workers. The workers have similar expressions on their faces and look very tired and unhappy with their sleeves rolled up and arms crossed across their chests. From the faces that can be seen, there are five men and only one woman, which once again reiterates how woman did not have equal opportunities as men in the work force. The man in the center is reaching towards the keys being handed to him. These keys probably symbolize a variety of things, some being, but connect back to the theme of opportunity. The only part of the poster that is in color, is the phrase “it’s all ours” because that is the message the artist is trying to instill in the working classes minds. This social activist of an artist is asking his community to seize the opportunities in front of them whether that means taking what’s there’s or standing up for what they believe is right. This work of art promotes unity among the community during a time where people probably felt like “the man” was personally attacking them.
This exhibit gave me a different understanding of Mexico which furthered my understanding of Latin America overall. The exhibit explained how the earliest official mention of Mexicans dates back to the 1850 U.S. Census where 50 Mexicans were identified as living in Illinois. People came to Chicago looking for economic opportunity and some came to escape the uncertainties of the Mexican Revolution. The original Mexican communities developed around work sites, near steel mills, factories, railroad yards, and stockyards which makes sense as to why so many of them were involved in the industrial labor force and moreover, why art regarding industrial struggles were common. Additionally, it can be understood as to why the artists who escaped from the Mexican Revolution incorporated socialist concepts and reintroduced indigenous imagery. This was a means of celebrating their unique bicultural identity. The Chicano Art Movement utilized printmaking, posters, and murals to effectively promote messages of pride and social change within their working-class neighborhoods, like we see with by Cortéz’s “It’s All Ours!” poster. Understanding what caused these artists to make their art in turn helped me grow an understanding for similar feelings that people in other Latin American countries probably felt as well.
Events that occurred leading up the late 1900s and early 2000s definitely influenced the art found at the museum today. Although the majority of the artwork is dated in the late 1900s and early 2000s it’s very obvious that there is an abundance of emotion and passion that stems from much earlier times. Many artists consider their art a means of saying things that they may not be able to verbally communicate. I think the pieces in the Nuestras Historias exhibit at the National Museum of Mexican Art do a fabulous job of conveying the hidden sentiments that came along with the events that can be found in history books or discussed in a history class. This visit reiterated a lot of the information I learned in class this semester. The constant struggle for Latin American labor workers, the uphill battle for woman in society in regards to their sexuality and limited opportunity, and the way people stood up for them selves and their community can be seen in this exhibit.
Originally published 15.10.2019