Alebrijes! The main purpose of my visit! But first, other stuff.
I heard low bok-bok-boking at the airport ticket counter and discovered people transporting chickens.
On the flight home, more chickens.
When the Spanish came to Mexico they could not pronounce the “tl” sound at the end of many words so the word “Xocolatl” became “Chocolate” and the word “Tomatl” became “Tomato.” I had no problem saying it, I think the Spaniards were just being lazy.
A stained glass window. I’ve mentioned a bunch of times that it is extremely difficult to get a good shade of purple with glass. It comes out light and muted. So I was impressed with the purple in this window. Strong color, very clear.
Two-toned VW Beetle.
Okay, alebriges. Quick recap:
The first alebrijes, along with invention of the term, originated with Mexico City cartonero Pedro Linares. Linares often told that in the 1930s, he fell very ill, and while he was in bed, unconscious, he dreamt of a strange place resembling a forest. There, he saw trees, animals, rocks, clouds that suddenly turned into something strange, some kind of animals, but, unknown animals. He saw a donkey with butterfly wings, a rooster with bull horns, a lion with an eagle head, and all of them were shouting one word, “¡Alebrijes!, ¡Alebrijes!”. Upon recovery, he began recreating the creatures he saw in cartonería, a papercraft consisting of strips of paper and glue on an armature.
Summary: A guy had a fever dream where he saw animals and made sculptures of them. Now a town outside of Oaxaca specializes in them. I had a guide take us to the town and I acquired about seven of them, from small inexpensive ones to two pricey collector’s item.
Several notable facts you should know: Alebrijes tend to be covered in symbols belonging to the indigenous people. All the shapes and patterns you see, those all have significance. Often they are painted with natural paints found in plants and rocks. And they are all painted freehand. No one draws the patterns on first. It takes years of training to become a painter. The skill level is unreal.
The first studio we went to was Jacobo and Maria Angeles. They’re the most famous of the alebrije artists. Their work was the inspiration in Pixar’s Coco. Here are some photos I found on the internet showing their work.
One of the things I like is that the artists are constantly incorporating new elements into their work. The Angeles workshop is bringing in gold leaf:
Stones, shells and fossils:
And the coolest thing, masks. The masks are removable so you can see the painted faces underneath but it enhances the fantastical quality of the pieces.
It is possible to commission a piece from them. Every year has an animal associated with it and it cycles, very similar to the Chinese calendar. You can say, “I would like a piece representing my family. I am a jaguar and my oldest child is a turtle and my youngest child is a eagle and we like the color red.” Then a piece would be made for you that looks something like this, with the parent being the big animal and the children being small animals attached.
They’re also exploring only black and white alebrijes. Look at this bear. Look at it.
When we got to the studio they showed how they made their all-natural paints. This one tree, the male has one kind of bark and the female has another which gives them two colors right there.
They have their small selection of colors but they’ve figured out if they mix it with lime juice (acid) or a specific powdered rock (base) a whole new realm of colors emerge.
There was a shrine off to the side that emphasized the importance of corn. It is the staple of all the cuisine.
And please note the dead armadillo on the right.
I bought a piece and their coffee table book just as the owner Jacobo was walking by so we hugged (hugging is a big deal down there and I ain’t mad about it) and he signed my book and we took a picture. It was pretty great.
There were some xoloitzcuintlis wandering around the property and I am still on the fence about them. They’re so cool and demonic-looking which is why the myth is that they lead you to the afterlife, but they’re so bad at being dogs. The big ones look austere and impressive but the little ones look like they have nasty mange and are on the edge of entering the afterlife themselves. They need sunblock and nose cream, it’s a lot.
After we left the Angeles studio we went to David Hernandez’s studio. While Hernandez is nowhere as famous as Angeles’, Hernandez’ alebrijes. particular the painting, are far superior. I think they need a better agent to share their sculptures with the world because they are an unappreciated treasure. Here are some of their pieces that I found on the web.
I mean, look at the stippling to create the gradient. I can’t even.
Quick reminder: None of these painters at any of the galleries draw on the patterns beforehand. They paint them with no guides. It’s awe-inspiring.
Flawless.
All those were pictures I found on the internet. Here are the pictures I took.
The skills, y’all. Acknowledge the skills.
Sometimes they paint a maroon base when they plan to gold leaf something. It makes the gold richer than painting on the light color of the wood. I love that bun-bun, btw.
This bear. Unreal. The carving, the painting, it’s all there.
Now here are the pieces I bought. I got this howling coyote from the Angeles studio.
I love it. I love the carving, the balance of the elements. And the painting is great. But it pales in comparison to the piece I got at David Hernandez’s studio.
This owl. I am in awe of the incredible workmanship on this little guy. Here is my hand for scale. Keep that in mind for when I zoom in.
Every time I look at this owl I notice something new. The last time I discovered the details along the inside of the wings.
And I love that it’s signed (with a paintbrush, I can’t even fathom) so I can seek out other pieces created by that painter. And I will. Oh, I will.
That ends my trip to Mexico. We will return to our regularly scheduled posting. Get psyched for charts and such.