Mexican Wholesale

posted by AetnaJo on Mar 4

Yuriria in Michoacan Mexico

It was a chance thing, really. We were heading for Patzcuaro, almost due south of Guanajuato where we had spent the past several days on a photography and business junket. While we were checking out of our small hotel just this side of the tunnels that snake under old Guanajuato, the otherwise taciturn gentleman who owned the establishment told us — almost as an afterthought — that, well, if we were heading for Patzcuaro, we might want to take lunch in Yuriria because there was a very old and beautiful convent that we could visit.

Intrigued, but facing a rather longish driving day, Tracey and I were ambivalent about the idea of taking time away from the journey and jeopardizing our planned arrival in Patzcuaro before dark. So, when the exit sign for Yuriria appeared several hours later, we hesitated for a moment too long and missed the turn.

Sailing down the road at a fast clip, it seemed a momentary impossibility to retrace our steps. Hesitation, then decision, and more than a little laughter, as Tracey hit the brakes, came to an abrupt stop at the side of the narrow two-lane highway, and made a U-turn in the middle of the road. Moments later, we were driving down a dusty road into what looked like a backwater farming town in central Mexico.

Yuriria in Michoacan Mexico

A long time ago, Yuriria was an important center in the area. Also known as Yuririapundaro — a name which means “Lake of Blood” in the Purepecha language, a reference to the lake waters that turn red during seismic events — the town became an administrative center and stop-off point on the “silver highway” that connected Mexico City with Guanajuato and Zacatecas. Mine owners were required to register their holdings with the Spanish crown but, as more and more silver mines were discovered, administrative centers were opened at points closer to the new locations, and Yuriria gradually lost its prominence. These days, Yuriria is home to only 26,000 people with 90,000 or so living in the surrounding area.

The Ex-Convento de San Pablo Apostol is easy to find — it dominates the town’s humble skyline. After parking the car, we walked the few short sunny blocks through the little town’s center towards the edifice. Families were Saturday-promenading in the park, balloon vendors were sailing their colors, and the small market was bustling with a lunch-time crowd.

Yuriria’s Ex-Convento is among the largest in Mexico and resembles, as do many ex-convents, a medieval fortress. For us, “convent” meant that this must have been a place of women, but in fact, the Ex-Convento was a monastery. The word convent finds its origins in the Latin words con and venire, meaning “to come together;” it was a word commonly used in Spanish to refer to such a place occupied by either a society of men or women.

Yuriria in Michoacan Mexico

Its resemblance to a fortress is no accident. As a result of the Spanish settlements during the mid-1500s, the area became a war zone with ongoing clashes between the local people and the Spanish Crown. Conventos were erected all over Mexico as the Catholic Church engaged in evangelization and pacification, actively supported in its efforts by the colonial government. By the end of the 16th century, only 75 years after the Conquest, there were 400 monasteries in Mexico; almost half of them were built by the Franciscans, with the Dominicans and Augustinians nearly tied for second place. It has been estimated that 9 million native people were converted as early as 1543.

The religious orders in Mexico tended to be regional with the Franciscans working in central and northern Mexico as well as the Yucatan; the Dominicans could be found mainly in the southern regions of Oaxaca and Chiapas; and the Augustinians worked in the states of Hidalgo, Morelos, Guanajuato and Michoacan. The Ex-Convento in Yuriria is an Augustinian invention; the monastery was founded by Friar Alonso de la Veracruz, who had professed as an Augustinian in 1537 shortly after his arrival in Mexico. Formerly an instructor at the prestigious University of Salamanca in Spain, Veracruz has been considered one of the outstanding scholars and intellectuals in 16th century Mexico and has been credited with the founding of the University of Mexico.

Construction on the Convento San Pablo Apostol began in 1550 and was completed in 1559 (though some date the completion to 1567). Its erection and lay-out were overseen by Fray Diego de Chavez, nephew of the famously cruel conquistador Don Pedro de Alvarado. While only a few records exist of professional architects working in Mexico during this era, and most convents and churches were conceived by local friars with little — if any — formal training, the architect responsible for the plan of Yuriria’s convent is known to be the renowned Pedro del Toro. (It’s thought that Del Toro and De Chavez also worked together at nearby Cuitzeo in Michoacan on the construction of the Santa Maria Magdalena Convent.) The construction force consisted of nearly 40 masons, both Hispanic and indigenous, and more than 300 Indian laborers. Rock was transported some ten miles from Cerro de la Cantera, about ten miles distant from Yuriria.

Today, one enters the Ex-Convento through a portico embraced by large graceful arches, disappearing at first into the cool shadows of the porteria, or porter’s room, then emerging into the walkway that surrounds the verdant and tranquil central courtyard. On the day of our visit, we were nearly completely alone, save for the fellow who oversaw the entrance and two other employees who quietly lingered in the passageways. We passed only a handful of other visitors. The convent consists of two levels, with common rooms below and former living quarters above. Entrance to the rooms is via surrounding Gothic arcades, whose graceful arches overlook the courtyard and provide shade to the entryways of the building’s many rooms.

We began by walking slowly around the lower level’s arcade, our pace slowed by the magnificence of the place and the redolence of its history and significance. Decorations are sparse, possibly because of the devastating fire of 1814 which destroyed much of the town itself and the convent’s religious artwork. We could see the remnants of once-spectacular murals that graced most of the entrances leading from the arcades into the inner hallways. The staircase that rises from the main level to the floor above gave us much pause. The stairway is still astonishing after nearly five centuries, and we ascended slowly and in solitude, pausing to revel in the metal filigree windows and the illusionistic handrails that are painted on the walls.

On the second floor, we continued our slow apprehension of the convent, wandering from one quiet room to the next, with the gloom of corners alleviated by bands of sunshine pouring in through each room’s single window. Long dark hallways gave way to brilliant sunlight at their terminuses and through occasional oculi above. Our mood was reverent and contemplative, perhaps evoked by the atmosphere of the place, a disposition that seemed to exist in the air as a result of all the events that had taken place here so many years ago. The moment that truly took our breath away, though, was when we came upon Her, the Virgin of Guadalupe. At the end of a very long hallway, illuminated today by only one bare low wattage bulb, and though the ravages of the centuries have taken their toll, she still glows on the wall with a presence that is palpable and wonderful.

At the time of the Spanish Conquest, which began in 1519 with the arrival of Hernan Cortes, the native populations were estimated at between 15 and 30 million. By the end of that same century, numbers had dwindled to only about 2 million. Smallpox, famine, severe labor conditions in the silver mines, and plagues all contributed to the genocide. The encomienda system is of particular note; a Spanish institution that dates from the second voyage of Columbus in 1493, the encomienda was a legal system that allocated groups of Indians to privileged colonists. The colonists were entitled by the Spanish Crown to extract tribute and labor from their designated Indians, and were required in turn to attend to their Christian welfare. Tremendous advantages were taken by the colonists, making it impossible for the native people to look after their own needs.

Friar Alonso de la Veracruz, the founder of the Convento de San Pablo Apostol, believed that the native peoples of Mexico had the right to dominion over their land, labor and tribute, a right that was inherent in their communities and could not be taken by force. Given the beliefs of Veracruz, one can hope and imagine that life around the convent in the 1500s was perhaps a little less harsh than it might have otherwise been.

We left the Ex-Convento reluctantly, in the late afternoon, with the long road to Patzcuaro still ahead of us. Before departing, we paused for an early dinner in the restaurant of what appeared to be the only hotel in town and enjoyed the hospitality of the townspeople, a very lively mariachi band, and possibly the country’s largest molcajetes. And we reflected on our extraordinary good luck of this chance encounter with Yuriria’s Ex-Convento, thanks to the brief remarks of our Guanajuato host and a quick U-turn on a narrow highway.

Such is traveling, such is Mexico.

These images are available from Olden Mexico.

posted by AetnaJo on Jan 17

Obsidian Finished Product

Mexico’s obsidian deposits are the third largest obsidian deposits in the world and are located west of the city of Guadalajara. These obsidian deposits are archaic only by the deposits of the Oregon Plateau and Africa’s Rift Valley. Obsidian is formed when lava cools or is degassed in different ways.

The Obsidian in West Mexico probably started as lava oozing from the cracks in the side of the Tequila Volcano millions of years ago which was after the volcano’s more striking eruptions into the air. More lava came forward less than 90,000 years ago from the Colli area where presently we find the Primavera Forest. This resulted in the Tequila-Colli axis becoming one of the world’s impressively large ancient mining zone for this natural glass which provided the pre-Columbian inhabitants of what is currently western Mexico with a priceless “gift of the gods,” which clearly created their destiny.

Huge chunks of obsidian are made into objects with the use of bare hands and a saw. These chunks of obsidian are made into sleek ultra-modern sculptures all appearing to be black. These pieces are attractive with some representing animals and some are just simple forms of very chic objects which are black and all beautifully polished.

These objects or spheres are made of sangre-de-indio (Indian Blood) obsidian and must be taken into the sun in order to appreciate their colors. It’s amazing how a tear-shaped piece that seems black in the indoor shade will come to life in the sunlight, illuminating bright bands of color profoundly beneath the surface. This is known as rainbow obsidian. Some of the pieces when turned in the sunshine will glimmer with a golden or silver shine.

The Navajas artisans started by creating small butterflies and hearts. As time passed, they were given clay models made by accomplished Mexican sculptors and they were dared to render the works of art in obsidian. Soon afterwards they were creating elegant sculptures which have found their way to museums and overseas. The sangre-de-indio obsidian is from a hill just outside Navajas, but place with the best obsidian comes from a little town about 65 kilometers north of there.

Archeologist Rodriguo Esparza, who is referred to as “the Obsidian Detective,” explained that the colors in obsidian come from traces of different minerals embedded in it. A minuscule amount of iron gives you red, while a tiny bit of copper makes it green. “Neutron Activation Analysis gives us a printout of every last trace element in a piece of obsidian,” says Esparza. They have exact measurements of rare elements like rubidium, lanthanum and molybdenum and they can now prove that an obsidian artifact unearthed in California originally came from an obsidian mine in the Mexican state of Jalisco.

It has been learned about the many ways obsidian was used in the past. No metal knife on earth can have as sharp an edge as an obsidian blade because obsidian is glass and has no crystal structure, while metals are limited to the makeup of their crystal restrictions. An obsidian scalpel is many times sharper than a metal one.

Obsidian was used to make the ‘macahuitl,’ a flat wooden sword tipped with obsidian blades. It was also used to make arrowheads, scrapers, jewelry and a wide range of other objects.

The most inquisitive obsidian deposit is the mine of San Isidro Mazatepec, which can only be entered by crawling on one’s hands and knees and it has a colony of vampire bats that are not happy about any intrusion.

Without a doubt, to the people without metal tools, Mexico’s obsidian was a divine gift which provided them with the sharpest imaginable blades and arrowheads for hunting, eating and fighting.

Mexican Obsidian Resources

posted by AetnaJo on Jan 11

Frida Kahlo Painting

Frida Kahlo was born Magdalena Carmen Frida Kahlo y Calderon in Mexico City on 6th July 1907, although she often gave her date of birth as 1910. She was the daughter of a German-Jewish photographer father and a Mexican Catholic mother. At the age of six she was stricken with polio, which left her with a permanent weakness in her right leg. She grew up wanting to be a doctor, but a serious bus accident in 1925 destroyed that dream. She broke her pelvis, collarbone and several ribs. Her already weak right leg was fractured in eleven places. Kahlo needed more than thirty operations and spent so much time in bed that she taught herself to paint to combat the boredom.

Frida had first met her future husband, Diego Rivera, while she was a schoolgirl at the National Preparatory School – he had been commissioned to paint a mural in the auditorium. She showed him some of her early work and he encouraged her to continue painting. They married in 1929. After their marriage Kahlo travelled with Rivera across the United States and Mexico when he took commissions for his murals, but theirs was a tortured marriage, including rumours of domestic violence and adultery on both sides. One well founded rumour is that she had an affair with close friend and well known communist activist and writer Leon Trotsky. Both Kahlo and Rivera were investigated when Trotsky died under suspicious circumstances, although neither were charged. Frida and Diego divorced in 1940, but unable to be apart they remarried in 1941.

Also in 1940 she participated in the International Exhbition of Surrealism in Mexico City. In 1943 she was made a professor of painting at the School of Fine Arts. At the Annual National Exhibition at the Palace of Fine Arts in 1946 Frida won a prize.

She only held one full exhibition in Mexico, and that was in 1953. She was in poor health and her doctors advised her not to attend. She instead had herself taken to the gallery in an ambalance and set up a bed inside, where she held court. Later in 1953 her right leg had to be amputated, which left her suffering from depression. She died on 13th of July 1954. No autopsy was performed so it is hard to say what she died of, although possibly she took her own life, as she had attempted to end her life more than once before. After her death her house, now known as the Blue House, became the Frida Kahlo Museum.

Frida Kahlo used painting as an outlet for her feelings of anger and pain. She began painting after her terrible accident and continued throughout her torturous marriage. Frida expressed her own suffering, and the suffering, both physical and emotional, of all women, through her art.

Frida Kahlo And Diego Rivera On Their Wedding Day

posted by AetnaJo on Nov 13

Mexican Modern Day Sculpture

These years Mexico’s Modern Day Sculpture is a coming together of the Old Mexican World with new world perception. Mexico went through a radical transformation between 1920 and 1940 due to the end of the revolution. The end of the revolution brought unleashed energy of transformation that was unparalleled. It brought excitement and creativity to the artists and the intellectuals, as new identities, personal and cultural were being formed. New manifestos and ideologies popped up daily.

Old San Carlos Academy, now known as the “Escuela Nacional de Bellas Artes,” was one of the casualties of the New Mexican Spirit. The academy was wedged in European roots and Mexico had no desire for its romantic, schmaltzy or typical religious traditions. Mexico sought after its own authentic voice. Mexican artists desired modern day sculpture that would have continuity between Mexico’s pre-Columbian past and the Mexico of their day. They found a home in the Muralist movement and in a redefining of the sculptor’s aesthetic.

At the academy, the ideals of the sculptors as well as the painters had lost their credibility. They had a new vision which was to reconnect with their pre-Historic past, in this case with the sculpture of the period even though some of the “new age” sculptors were also finding their own voice.

Famous sculptures Rivera and Siqueiros, influential voices of the time, spoke out for direct carving so as to work the way their pre-Hispanic ancestors had done while the new generation of sculptors wanted to cut directly into the material.

The rising generation of sculptors discovered the work of the ancient civilizations and studied it looking into the alter pieces and carved work on the exterior of churches that were created during the vice-regal period. Still, they would not leave the European based training they had been given. They were taught to be accomplished draftsmen. They were also taught proportion, scale and the power of the monumental or the turgid.

Mexico’s modern day sculptors looked to the passed for inspiration and to their European knowledge. The challenge was to recognize the diverse face of the Mexican culture and the racial blending of Europe and the new world and unite it with the new materials- cardboard, wood, stone and bronze. The combination of their Mexican inspiration and their European knowledge have greatly contributed to Mexico’s Modern Day Sculpture.

posted by AetnaJo on Oct 14

What is it about Mexican Needlework Artistry (also called punto de cruz or cross stitch) which is the traditional needlecraft in the state of Michoacan Mexico that make it such a sought after Mexican Artistry? One reason could be filament through the fabric surrounded by needlepoint, such as a flower with shades of violet, magenta and lavender with an aqua and maroon background signifying the shades of the seasons and perhaps the seasons of life of the person behind the needlework artistry.

Artisans purchase “guanego”-a white cotton blouse- and adorn them with flowers in needlepoint also called “punto de cruz” – cross stitch- around the neckline. They nudge flowers into existence as though leading a blank breadth of nothingness to the edge of a sheer cliff where it dives deliciously into high-spirited colors.

Cocucho, Michoacan, Mexico is well known for its elegant clay pots but has also earned a reputation for its Mexican needlework artistry.  The greatest challenge of the craft presents itself when the borders are made for the different panels of color. They have to count how many lines and then start making the cross stitch. They make blouses, dresses, men’s shirts, aprons, napkins, and rebozos. Most artisans prefer not to use the same design twice. They finish one design and start with another one.

The hands of many artisans defy the pestilence of time, and awaken yet another piece of fabric from its slumber. One of the most popular items of the Mexican Needlework Artistry is the “Guanengos.” Guanengos are blouses which require three to four months to complete.

While abundant flourishes of violet, magenta, orange, mauve, ocean blue and opulent green rush in torrents across the guanengos of today, they haven’t always commanded such visual importance. The more colorful designs began on the scene in the 1980’s.