Fine Arts, Street Arts. México, DF

Sun, 16 Mar 2008 11:59:45 -0600

The museum of Fine Arts (Belles Artes) is reflected in the surface of the building where this street vendor cleverly displays the plastic acrobats he is selling.

“Pelos” Port of Veracruz

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 09:49:32 -0600

I was in Veracruz, the port city on the Gulf of Mexico for a Danzón presentation this past weekend. I also had time to walk the downtown historic center of the city. The area is in no hurry to modernize and get spiffied up, which is just fine with me.The numerous old, colonial buildings retain a patina of age and salt water deterioration, and probably house tenants who are a couple months behind on the rent.
It’s a city with a visual link to other Gulf ports -- Galveston, Tampico, and Mobile -- and an architecture reminiscent of New Orleans, with balconies a central feature of a lot of houses.
Historically, it was one of the entry points for many aspects of Cuban culture that were adopted in México -- baseball, Danzón and cigars among them. It’s said that in the early 1900’s, boxes of Cuban cigars, imported from Habana, carried the latest Danzón musical score inside their lids. Danzoneras were able to play the most popular songs of the day and at the same time develop a distinctly Mexican sound. One hundred years later the traditional rhythms of those same songs still resonate in the public plazas of Veracruz. “De pelos”, indeed.

Mexico City’s Oldest Cantina Closes......... Mexico,DF

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 15:53:34 -0600

The barroom doors of the oldest cantina in Mexico City, ‘El Nivel’ have stopped swinging. The colonial building that housed the famous watering hole, is owned by the National University, and they would like to put the space to more sober use -- offices, or possibly a library.
I have been a patron for almost all my 20 years here and always relished a beer after walking around the historic center searching for images to make. The place was not very big, and precisely for that reason it had a more intimate, conversation-inducing feel to it.
A tradition that was indicative of the friendliness of the place was the waiters’ habit of seating you at a table with strangers if the place happened to be full. One of my visits some 15 years ago produced an encounter that can only be described as both drunken and hilarious. The waiter seated me with a patron and his wife, both of whom were already well on their way to being sloshed when I sat down. We began talking and he asked where I lived in the city. “Mixcoac”, I replied. “Ah”, he said. “Do you know what ‘Mixcoac’ means in Nahuatl (indigenous tongue of Central Mexico)? “No”, I said, “What does it mean?” “Lugar de Los Serpientes” (Place of the Serpents)”, he replied. I mentioned that the logo for the Metro (subway) stop used an image of a snake, and we both nodded. The conversation continued until I had to leave. We began our extended goodby, as is the custom, and he once again asked me what part of the city I was heading to to get home. “Mixcoac”, I replied again. Without batting an eye, he asked again, “Do you know what ‘Mixcoac’ means in Nahuatl?”. “Yeah, sure”, I answered, “Place of the Serpents.”
His utter surprise at my knowledge of Nahuatl was matched only by my smile and the knowledge that one patron of the Nivel would be remarking to his friends later on that he had met a gringo who knew what ‘MIxcoac’ meant in Nahuatl.

If Mariachis Sang the Blues....... Mexico, DF

Tue, 15 Jan 2008 12:56:53 -0600

If mariachis sang the blues, ‘Las Golondrinas’ (The Swallows) would surely be in their repertoire. It’s the traditional Mexican song that is sung when someone is leaving for other pastures. Like many traditional blues songs, the words talk of absence, longing for return and the memory of a place brought on by the sweet song of the swallow.
Jake and Lorraine, two dear friends, are leaving Mexico City for the San Francisco Bay area. The goodbye party (despedida) was on the roof of their house last Saturday night. It was chilly for sure, but as you can see, the mariachis brought people together and that generated the necessary warmth. During ‘Las Golondrinas’, it’s the custom that those who are leaving receive an ‘abrazo’ from everyone present.
While both of them are gringos, both Jake and Lorraine were also card-carrying Chilangos. They love the DF in all it’s craziness and lived their lives immersed in the city. If I were to guess, I’ll bet the Bay Area will prove a tad sedate.
So when you all have found yourselves a good cantina over there, and you’ve had a couple of Don Julio’s, remember the the words that the mariachis sang on your rooftop:
Ave querida, amada peregrina,
mi corazón al tuyo estrecharé,
oiré tus cantos, bella golondrina,
recordaré a México y lloraré.

Saturday Danzón gathering. La Ciudadela. Mexico, DF

Mon, 7 Jan 2008 19:39:26 -0600

When I first saw Danzón, I couldn’t believe that something like this was still being danced in the 21st century. Some five years later, while the rhythms and steps are more familiar to me, they are no less captivating.
Danzón arrived in México from Cuba at the start of the 20th century by way of the port of Veracruz and the Yucatán peninsula. It’s roots are traceable back to the French ‘contredanse’. But the passage through tropical locales added a definite sensuous side to the dance and a hybrid emerged that blended old world refinement with new world seductiveness.
Although there are numerous Danzón nightclubs throughout the capital, at least two public parks showcase some of the best dancers every Saturday afternoon and evening -- La Alameda del Sur in the Coyoacán delegation and La Ciudadela in the Cuauhtémoc.
Most of the participants are senior citizens, but the age demographic is shifting downward all the time. There are plenty of young kids in these plazas who look like they would be more at home ‘mosheando’ who are swaying with their partner to the measured, provocative Danzón.

Young Girls Selling Necklaces. Oaxaca, Oaxaca

Fri, 4 Jan 2008 09:47:59 -0600

Oaxaca holds many of the best memories of my time here in Mexico. One of my first ever magazine assignments was for Texas Monthly in the small village of San Pablo Macuiltianguis, where I met Ramon ‘Tianguis’ Pérez, a writer, photographer, one-of-a-kind thinker, and friend to this day. Dick Reavis, another long-time buddy and author of numerous books, among them ‘Conversations with Moctezuma: Ancient Shadows Over Modern Life in Mexico’, had written an article about the Mexican diaspora and I was sent to photograph life in Macuil.…[By the way, read ‘Conversations’ if you want an on-the-mark-not-changed-by-the-passing-of-time analysis of the conundrum that is Mexico.]
Given that my time in Mexico up until then had been spent on the seamier side of dusty border towns,and not knowing much about the intricate social relationships of such a Mexican village, the stay in the high pine forests around Maquil with Ramon’s family was close to idyllic and full of discovery. Everyone had some kind of connection to the US, so a tall gringo with a camera was not such a strange site.
For me, it was the beginning of an infatuation with Oaxaca and it’s people that continues to this day.

Shelter for elderly prostitutes. Mexico, DF

Thu, 20 Dec 2007 15:48:03 -0600

Reyna Trejo Villeda, 84, is one of about 35 elderly prostitutes, some retired, some still working the streets, who live at the Casa Xochiquetzal. The shelter is run by the Mexico City government and has given these women an alternative to sleeping on the street or in flop-houses in the downtown area.
Mrs. Trejo has quite a good singing voice and up until a couple of years ago played guitar along with her sister, a violinist. She comes from the Huasteca region of the state of Hidalgo, and sang me some ‘sones huastecos’ or huapangos from there.
Here’s one for Reyna called ‘La Azucena’ by Los Camperos de Valles.

“Feliz Navidad”, signed ‘Death’. Mexico, DF

Mon, 17 Dec 2007 15:44:16 -0600

A ‘calaca’ is a stylized skeleton that playfully represents death and is usually seen around the Day of the Dead festivities in late October and early November. But here she has manifested herself in the middle of December on the streets of the historic center. The couple in the foreground are quite oblivious to her presence, as are most of the pedestrians.
I guess you could interpret this in at least one of two ways: it shows the complete nonchalance on the part of big city urbanites when confronted with something completely out in left field; or it’s an example of the accepting attitude on the part of most Mexicans when death is walking around on the street.
Either way, being able to make pictures when such serendipitous events occur, even when it involves Death, is a joy.

Portrait with Virgin. Acapulco, Guerrero.

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 10:30:24 -0600

Today is the feast day of the Virgin of Guadalupe, Mexico’s patroness. In a country that prides itself on the separation of church and state, most government workers are off, schools and banks are closed and the stock market shuts down. As much as the powers-that-be would like people to be working today, they know better. You don’t mess with the cult of the Virgin. While it’s origins are obviously in organized religion, the myth is much more profound.
As Octavio Paz said: “ In addition, the Virgin—the universal Mother—is also the intermediary, the messenger, between disinherited man and the unknown, inscrutable power: the Strange.”
“Guadalupe is pure receptivity, and the benefits she bestows are of the same order: she consoles, quiets, dries tears, calms passions.”
I guess that’s why you see Zapatista Guadalupanos, local mechanic Guadalupanos and even atheist Guadalupanos. Not to mention Polaroid portrait booth Guadalupanos.

Sister Mary sweeps up. Monterrey, N.L.

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 13:38:43 -0600

This woman is not a real nun. I mean have you ever seen a sister without socks?
I have a soft spot in my heart for nuns since they educated me at Saint Sebastian’s Catholic elementary school in Akron, Ohio. While the discipline was strict, I was always glad to find out that my instructor for the coming year would be wearing a habit and not a dress or pants.
As those things went, the lay teachers were notorious for their sadistic tactics in the pursuit of our education. It seems they thought that if they were perceived as soft on the discipline side, they would lose the respect of the priests and nuns.
In fifth grade, for speaking out of turn, Miss Smith made us stay after school and write 25, 50 or sometimes 100 times, “If God had wanted me to talk more than to listen, he would have given me two mouths and only one ear.” She was the same one who, if she really wanted to get her point across, would make you extend your arms and hands out in front of you, parallel to the floor, and feel the whacks of not just the wooden ruler but the ruler and the wooden pointer which she grasped in tandem.