Travel Notes: Oaxaca, Mexico
An art exhibition was not as important in sending us to Oaxaca; as the Derain, Balthus, and Giacometti exhibit was in launching our trip to France. Nonetheless, another museum show did provide a strong second for our decision to travel to a new part of Mexico. Many friends had encouraged us to branch out beyond San Miguel de Allende and spend some time in Oaxaca: "If you like San Miguel, you will love Oaxaca." Friends' words were resoundingly supported at a lovely show at the Yale University Art Gallery last summer, Small-Great Objects: Anni and Josef Albers in the Americas. This was an exhibition of pieces of art that the Albers, an artist couple -- she, an esteemed textile artist; he, an esteemed painter -- had collected in their travels in Mexico and South America. The Albers had loved Mexico, especially Oaxaca, for its art, grand Prehispanic ruins, food, weather, and friends with whom they enjoyed life in a very special way.
The exhibit contained beautiful pieces of sculpture and textiles, alongside examples of art by Anni and Josef Albers that their collection had inspired. Also to accompany the show, Yale University provided charming audiotapes by Anni Albers describing their love of Mexico to which they travelled many times in their lives, over a period of thirty years beginning in 1935.
Many things stopped me in my tracks as I toured the exhibit. Anni's textiles, with which I was less familiar than her husband's paintings, were stunning in their beauty and link to the weavings and other art forms she had found in Mexico. Josef's paintings, set along side photographs he had taken of Mexican homes, made really clear the connections between his iconic square paintings and what he had seen when he looked at Mexican windows and doors.
And both of their artistic practices were deeply influenced by the amazing Oaxacan ruins they visited repeatedly at Monte Alban and Mitla.
How lucky were we to be going to a place that had so captivated these wonderful artists and stirred their imaginations.
How to Write about Oaxaca
It is certainly tempting to tell you the story of our trip chronologically, moving day by day from November 8th to November 18th; starting with our leaving Ula in New York City in the good care of our friend, Patrice Wynne, and ending with our happy reunion. But that won't do. A simple linear approach just doesn't fit the experience of being in Oaxaca. Oaxaca struck us as filled with complexities, many-layered, multidimensional; moving not just toward the future, but always pointing towards the past while very much in the present.
When I taught the psychological study of lives, I told students they should find a structure for their biographical writing that mirrored the structure of the life that they were trying to write about. Now, here I am trying to find a structure that fits Oaxaca. Seems right to write about what I experienced, as closely as I can to how I experienced it, without imposing any kind of trajectory. Actually, I am writing about arenas of experience, or better, "niches of experience." Merriam-Webster defines niche as "a habitat supplying the factors necessary for the existence of an organism or species." The Urban Dictionary says that Native Americans use the word to indicate something sweet. William James, the psychologist and philosopher, expands the meaning to include that place in a person's ecology especially well suited to her energies, that enables her to have an impact on the environment, that supports her creation of meaning in the chaos of life. All of those definitions work for me. So, what follows is some of the story of just three Oaxacan niches.
What Goes on at the Zócalo
Everyone who gave us tips on what to do in Oaxaca began with the Zócalo. They all recommended we go there to sit at a café or restaurant, watch the flow of people, and feel part of many very human stories. Some friends even said they went there everyday, no matter what else they might be doing. So, soon after our arrival on the evening of the 8th, we headed out the hotel door for the public square. Without a map, long after the sun had set, and not quite sure of where we were in relation to the square, we just couldn't find the lively open space that everyone had recommended. Instead, we fell into a nice, traditional Mexican restaurant, Restaurante Catedral, and ordered our first mescal and mole.
We decided we would look for the Zócalo in the morning light. We found it and instantly learned why we didn't see it the night before. The square was no longer an open space. It was completely filled with tents and other housing structures. Some looked very temporary but others constructed with heavy black plastic and ropes seemed more permanent. Many people were living here, many families with people of all ages, infants to grandparents. Clothes were hanging to dry and food was being prepared on makeshift surfaces. Also, signs of human habitation filled the small streets leading into the square. Large, low-hanging tarps, covered sleeping bags and cardboard platforms for sitting and gathering.
No one had prepared us for this. We needed to understand more about what was happening. Yes, we knew about the hugely important teacher strike that had happened in 2006, and occasional later incidents of protest; but we were completely ignorant of the significant political activity that had continued without a break. Getting hold of an explanation was not easy. We asked all sorts of people about what was happening in the Zócalo, we got back shrugs, tired looks, and "Something is happening in the Zócalo?" It was clear that whatever it was, it was not sitting easily with the people we asked. We sensed ambivalence and sadness.
Later in the week, we went back to the square. Some of the housing structures had been removed and we could see parts of an open public space. As our friends had recommended, we sat at a café and watched life but we were amongst just a handful of visitors. It was also now easier to see the many large banners of protest and also to notice the many groups of young people. They met in circles to discuss what seemed to be issues very important to them. They formed a kind of university of the public square. I am sure these young people could have taught me a lot about what was happening at the Zócalo but my poor Spanish language skills kept me from joining them.
Hopefully, when we return (and we will), my Spanish will be better.
Thank God for Good Bookstores and Libraries
A very positive review in the Moon Oaxaca travel guide by Justin Henderson required that our first day include a visit to the "exceptional bookstore, Libreria Amate." This store is a goldmine of English language books on things Mexican -- Mexican art, history, literature, cooking, archeology, anthropology, and more. A special table held English translations of books by contemporary Mexican authors, books like the splendid The Story of My Teeth, by Valeria Luiselli. Special shelves held a wonderful collection of books about the past and current social, cultural, and political situation of Oaxaca. Looking at these, I knew I was getting closer to understanding where I was. I thought that the person who knew to order and stock these books could tell me a lot about Oaxaca. That person was the owner of the shop, Henry Wangeman. He wasn't there on our first or second visit, but I sent him an email with my questions and we found him on our third visit. I was right. He knew and was willing to share a lot of his experiences in Oaxaca, on the teachers' strikes and much more, like the crisis around corn and local peoples' efforts to reverse the horrible effects of not using Mexican corn seeds.
Conversations with Henry were gifts. Before we met him, we knew we would soon be returning to Oaxaca; but after spending time listening to him, I knew we would return with our eyes open wider. On our last visit to the store, I purchased a book called Teaching Rebellion: Stories from the Grassroots Mobilization in Oaxaca, edited by Diana Denham and C.A.S.A Collective, published by PM Press, in 2008. The book is a collection of testimonies by twenty-three people -- activists, schoolteachers, students, housewives, children, organizers, artists, journalists, religious and union leaders, journalists -- who participated in the 2006 movement for social justice in Oaxaca and what became known as the Popular Assembly of the People of Oaxaca. These are wonderful stories about life in a time of great change, told by those living it. If I were still teaching, I would ask my students to read this book.
Henry's store was not our only interaction with books in Oaxaca. Here is a delightful photograph I took of the facade of the public bibliotheca/library on Alcalá. It is never too late to read.
And then, there were these charming corners in the magnificent Biblioteca de Francisco Burgoa, a beautifully restored space for books and manuscripts, in the Centro Cultural de Santo Domingo. I do not yearn to be a child again; but oh, how easy it was to wish to be a small girl reading special books in such a space, at one's very own perfectly sized chair and table.
Thank God for Artists and the Niches They Create
Several times on our trip, I was taken with the extent to which Mexican artists give back to their communities. They go far beyond the donation of individual artworks. Artists in Oaxaca create and give whole new spaces for others, spaces in which others can enjoy the awe of creativity. Indeed, they make and give niches. The extraordinary generosity with funds and time and the deep connections between artists and their communities are quite different from what I have come to know of artists in the U.S.
Our first encounter with this wonderful phenomenon was the Museo Arte Prehispanico de Rufino Tamayo. Tamayo, a famous Mexican artist, not only donated his entire collection of more than 1,000 pieces of pre-Columbian art to his hometown of Oaxaca City. He also renovated an important 18th century structure to house the collection. Tamayo intended each piece which he carefully selected for its aesthetic and emotionally expressive qualities to teach his community about the diversity and skill of their ancestors who had created the work. His message reaches all of us. I took lots of photographs in this space. Here are a few of my favorites.
In Ocotlan, a village not far from Oaxaca City, we found the remarkable contributions of the artist, Rudolfo Morales. The internationally known artist gave his fortune to his hometown. Among the many churches and other public buildings he restored are the Templo de Santo Domingo and the main municipal building that also includes his frescoes. His foundation, based at the Casa Cultural Rudolfo Morales, continues to fund a variety of educational, environmental, artistic, and community projects.
And then there is the amazing Francisco Toledo who is still with us, and whose name came up in connection with so many attempts to improve life for people in Oaxaca. I made a list of his projects but I know it is missing many items. The first I encountered was the Instituto de Artes Graficas de Oaxaca that he founded. He donated the colonial building in which it sits and the amazing art library that is said to house anywhere from 25,000 to 66,000 volumes and a collection of at least 7,000 prints. It was a great place to visit, filled with students pouring over wonderful texts. There were also many students present in Etla, San Augustin, just outside of Oaxaca City. There, Toledo renovated an old textile factory and created a great cultural center, exhibition space, and art school.
It was hard to find in Oaxaca City a museum with which he was not connected. For example, he was key in the founding of the Photographic Center, Centro de Fotografia Manuel Alvarez Bravo and the contemporary art museum, Museo de los Paintores Oaxaquenos.
But his influence does not stop with art. One of the most impressive gardens I have ever visited, rich with historical and cultural significance, is the Ethnobotanical Garden nearby the Templo Santo Domingo. With others, Toledo was responsible for securing the site and the creation of this garden.
And then in the midst of all this wonderful work for the community, Toledo remains a exceptionally prolific and creative artist. How can one not be impressed and inspired.
Time to Pack!
There are many more Oaxacan niches to write about, but they will need wait. Within a week, we are returning to this magical place and I need to get ready for that. Writing will continue while I am there. Stay posted.
I will end this blog with some of the photographs I took in Oaxaca, with a brief description of each.
These appear in the order in which I took them:
On my first morning walk in Oaxaca, this is what I saw.
And this is what I think Josef Albers saw and paused in front of, given what he went on to paint, as in his sketch for an oil painting, at right.
Sitting in the back seat of a car, on our way to the first of many excursions I was stunned by the beautiful deep blue color of the sky (you can see that in many of the photographs posted earlier). I think the person responsible for the building we drove by also liked the color.
I think Josef Albers liked it too.
If you are wondering why Josef Albers keeps showing up, know that he is not the only one. In Mexico and in thinking about Mexico, I never feel alone. There are all the lovely people one encounters and connects with just by being there. And then, there are the artists and writers who have been inspired by Mexico and their work also stays with me. In this second category, my best chums on this trip were D.H. Lawrence and Oliver Sacks. These links deserve their own blog.
There are sooo many wonderful Mexican restaurants in Oaxaca. Some say that here is the best Mexican food. But, where ever we are, even here, David will find a splendid Italian restaurant.
We heard wonderful music in Oaxaca. One special chamber music concert was in the beautifully restored chapel at the Templo y Ex-Convento de San Agustin, just east of the Zocal0. This is a beautiful window from that chapel.
Markets make up a big and important part of a visit to Oaxaca. There is a nearly daily one in Oaxaca City and the villages that surround the city have their own special market days. You can plan your week around them.
Here is a very splendid creature. We found him on a craft tour across a number of villages. He comes from San Martin Tilcajete, the village that specializes in alebrijes, fanciful wooden creatures. This particular piece was made in the workshop of Jacabo and Maria Angeles, master and mistress of this craft.
Just a few more shots from the magical ethnobotanical garden.
Be sure not to miss the wonderful cultural and historical center, Centro Cultural Domingo (right next door to the Ethnobotanical Garden). Beautiful buildings, a museum chock full of wonderful pieces, great concerts in the cloister, and very special exhibitions of contemporary art.
And then, there were the ruins. We visited the two major sites. The first was Monte Alban. Spectacular.
The second ancestral site we visited was Mitla. Not quite as spectacular as Monte Alban, but just as interesting. The scope and scale of the buildings was of a more human scale for me and the decoration, a kind of stone mosaic, is completely intriguing. The current show on Joself Albers at the Guggenheim makes much of his photographs of Mitla and the art that he did based on what he saw.
Just a couple more shots from the Cultural Center at Etla San Augustin, at the old textile factory restored by Toledo. The first is of the paper making facility just a short walk down the hill from the main building. A beautiful place in which to make beautiful paper. And then, just one of the many charming details in the complex.
And then it is time to go. We depart from the charming colorful Oaxaca Airport to find ourselves hours later in a neighborhood restaurant listening to jazz. There are many good things to celebrate.