Extra Credit: La Virgen de Guadalupe, Dios Inantzin

The Los Angeles Theatre Center Flyer.

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a performance, La Virgen de Guadalupe, Dios Inantzin, directed by Jose Luis Valenzuela, a professor at UCLA. The play narrated the four appearances of the Virgen de Guadalupe to Juan Diego and the process of religious conversion made possible through the conquista. The ambiance was very lively in that there was a lot of color, lights, decorations, and the smell of copal plus danza Azteca filled the cathedral with greater energy.

What I found the most interesting was the fact that all the actors and audience prayed to La Virgen at the end of the performance. We asked for her to protect the poor and undocumented, bless the sick, aid those victims who suffer in the hands of terrorists, domestic abuse and sexual assault, and allied with various communities in that we reassured that not only do Black lives matter, but all lives matter.  This was a very heart-warming and empathizing experience for me because we spoke about contemporary issues and whether or not people believe in the La Virgen, I believe we were able to humanize the space by praying to a deity/god on behalf of those who were not physically there.

Reflecting on the role La Virgen de Guadalupe played, she was depicted very traditionally, with her long, starry dress/cloak and her hands together in prayer form. Thus, thinking about our discussions in class about how Chicana artists refigure La Virgen, I thought, "How would the react if they saw La Virgen with a shorter dress and walking in heels like in Yolanda Lopez’s Walking Guadalupe, 1978?"…just thoughts. Overall, it was a beautiful performance! (p.s. I only took a video of the play which is too long to upload unfortunately).

 

 

Week 10: Reflection

             Being a Chicana/o Studies major, I was pretty excited about the class because I figured I would finally learn about two integral components of Chicana/o history: Chicana women and their creative artistic expression. However, I thought this class was going to be very textual based, just like the majority of the courses at UCLA and even though we did have weekly readings, they were succinct and actually very interesting. In fact, my favorite part was also the artists presentations because we had to find our own sources of information while analyzing the womens' artwork. The assignment obliged us to do research on our artist so we learned a lot about the women’s backgrounds and inspirations and how those transplanted onto their art. The assignment made us both teachers and students by exchanging our knowledge about our artists.    

Reflecting on the first day, where as a class, we named very few Chicana artists, to now naming over 50, gave me the goosebumps (in a good way). I have always been a person who likes to see progress, so it was very satisfying to see that the class, including myself, learned a significant amount of Chicana artists, are now able to recognize their work, and can even have conversations about them with others.

If there’s one thing I could take away from this class, it would be the fact that Chicana art falls short of being conventional. From Garza, to Lopez, Alvarez, Baca, Carrasco and all the others, these women are innovative and courageous individuals who rely on different mediums of art to speak (in a non-verbal way) about the every-day life of being Chicana. In doing so, they have provided countermemories, that without a doubt, contribute to Chicana feminist theory.

Natalia Anciso: Don't Shoot

Don't Shoot, 2014. Ink, graphite,
prisma, and watercolor on paper, 15 x 19 inches. 

For this week’s artist presentation, Natalia Anciso’s, Don’t Shoot, was the image that stood out to me the most primarily because of its flexibility to be understood among different groups of people regardless of age, ethnicity, religious affiliation and so on. The work depicts three well-geared police men pointing their guns at a young boy who is holding his arms up. When I saw the image, I was overwhelmed with emotions; I felt anger, sadness, hopelessness, and even confusion because the work (aesthetically) speaks of the militarization of the police among other themes. Given that Anciso grew up near the Rio Grande―a hostile geographic location― and seeing the banner, “Police line do not cross,” it is evident that the image was, and still is, a real-life portrayal of police patrolling the borderland from immigrants crossing. However, I believe the image also addresses police brutality on the young, males of color population because they are known as targeted groups in our society. Because the audience cannot see the mens’ faces or the young boy’s, I believe the image can hold even greater implications. Their unknown identities suggest that the boy and policemen are representative of other populations. In the bigger scheme of things, the boy may epitomize a young, innocent group of people who surrenders in the presence of another authoritarian and powerful group. For that reason, this image was the most interesting to me; it is a breathing artwork that can be interpreted in several discussions that concern themselves with issues racism, terrorism, and/or colonialism to name a few.       

Barbara Carrasco: Milk the Pass

Milk the Pass, 1990. 
Acrylic on canvas, 12 x 24 inches.

Although several classmates have presented their artist’s and work―which have all been interesting―I really liked, Milk the Pass, because while it evokes issues of racism and stereotyping, it does so in a satirical manner. The artwork depicts a “white” girl relieving a burning sensation from eating jalapenos by being stuck in a bottle of milk. As our classmate stated, Carrasco grew up as the black sheep of the family; her green eyes and her light skin complexion labeled her as not Mexican enough, which thereby supports why Carrasco is confined and stuck in the milk bottle, or white race.  I chose Milk the Pass because it hits home for me and I am sure for a lot others as well. To me, the work addresses the notion of displacement; for example, when we visit our parents’ countries, we are “too American”, and here in the United States we are “too un-American,” so we do not seem to fit anywhere. Additionally, it is a visual discourse on color hierarchies within the Chicana/o communities and the entailed experiences. Carrasco briefly illustrates her role in her family and neighborhood given her physical image, and unveils how others view her as well. Ashamed to admit, I have also stereotyped individuals, not purposely rather innately, because my culture and other social forces have taught me to do so in order to “organize” the world. The two artists that came to mind, in terms of similarities, were Laura Alvarez and Carmen Lomas Garza. In her presentation, Laura Alvarez mentioned that we never really know people because there is more to them than meets the eye and this is especially helpful to counter stereotyping. Furthermore, Milk the Pass reminded me of Carmen Lomas Garza’s work because they sought to address identity and community issues. Again, I enjoyed this work because of its ability to visually critique racism and stereotypes in a humorous and personal way.

Carmen Lomas Garza: Cakewalks

In Carmen Lomas Garza, chapter two, “Politics and Life in Tejas: From Tejana to Chicana,” discussed the relationship between Garza’s sociopolitical experiences and her art. Some of the main points in the chapter, which explain her transformation “from a Tejana to a Chicana,” include her family’s activism with the American GI Forum, her political engagement with the Mexican American Youth Organization (MAYO), and her overall experiences― from her childhood to early adulthood― living during such a hostile and segregated environment. My favorite image from the chapter and book was, Cakewalks, 1987, acrylic on canvas, which illustrates a number of individuals engaging in a  number of things. From adults dancing and talking to children playing, the artwork goes beyond being just a social gathering, rather depicts political organizing and support. When I think of being a Chicana I think of community effort, leadership, and socio-political consciousness to name a few. In turn, I believe the image highlights the impact of political organizing and advocacy within the Chicano community. Garza essentially found herself in the service of others, and thereby, claimed her Chicana identity. The quote I thought best summarized the artwork was, “her closeness to her family and community, who provided support and tenacity, and her sense of social justice, drove her to make an early commitment to her art” (28).  In other words, Garza’s relatives and the injustices that surrounded her influenced her to produce art that was not only relevant to the Chicano community but was also politically engaging; as a result, she discovered her self-identity.

  

Cakewalks, 1987. Acrylic on canvas, 36 x 48 inches.

Extra Credit: Dia de Los Muertos @ SPARC

On Sunday, November 1^st, I had the pleasure of attending a Día de Los Muertos event held at the Social and Public Art Resource Center, also known as SPARC. The event was put on by UCLA students and their professor, Martha Ramirez-Oropeza, who set up altars in order to commemorate their departed beloved ones. To make a long story short, the event was a reenactment of how people manifest Día de Los Muertos in Mexico. It started off essentially with a prayer; the students and professor sang a song and facing towards the north, “called out” the souls of their loved ones to come celebrate with them and eat food. After the prayer, we were welcomed to look at the beautiful altars and learn more about the preparation process, which was heartwarming to hear.  I am extremely glad I attended this event because it gave me the opportunity to learn about a tradition that was never practiced in my family, although my mother is Mexican. I learned that this festival is not the “Mexican Halloween” as some people refer to it rather, it is one of the most, if not the most, anticipated and important tradition in Mexico, especially rural areas, that celebrates and welcomes the dead (souls). Moreover, I believe my attendance was impactful because Sunday marked a year since my grandfather passed, so I think it was great that I was able to “call” his spirit and remember him in a peaceful and celebratory manner. I aspire to keep traditions like these alive.

 

 Outside while the professor (second person from the left) was singing a Nahuatl song and the students repeated after her (although unfortunately not captured in this photo).



An altar which remembered and commemorated those that disappeared in Mexico City. 

A look inside the well decorated and vibrant center.

Week 5: Stencils

Personally, I thought that choosing a stencil for my album was difficult so instead I chose four, all of which are of utmost importance to me and my identity. On the front, I stenciled the Adinkra humility and strength symbol and included my mother’s birthday in roman numerals (vi xxviii mcmlx or June 28, 1960). The reason I chose those stencils was because my mother is the reason for my being; almost everything I do has been driven by her motivation and inspiration towards me.  An immigrant from Mexico, my mother grew up poor, never went to school, and has known what it is to work since the age of five. She refuses to believe in materialism and always tells me that silence is the most powerful scream; it is for those reasons she has been the most humble person I know and has taught me to be the same. Additionally, she is who taught me strength and reinforced my womanhood even when sexist individuals have stigmatized that identity. On the back, I decided to stencil in a pair of wings which typically symbolize imagination, thought, freedom, victory, and the Ankh cross right in between both wings. I chose the wings primarily because I am an independent individual; I enjoy being alone and I like to view opportunities and the world as boundless, which metaphorically represents a bird. To conclude, I chose the Ankh cross which symbolizes eternal life in Egyptian religion. However, the Ankh cross has always looked like a key to me so I put the wings and cross together because I thought they were harmonious in meaning―I hold a universal key which opens doors to wherever life may take me.

Laura Alvarez

“Blow Up the Hard Drive”, 1999.
 Limited edition silkscreen, 18 x 26 inches.

Having Laura Alvarez as a guest speaker was a great experience primarily because she shared part of her life story with us and explained how she was able to process everything around her with different mediums of art. One of the most interesting things Alvarez said was that she would dress in fancy clothes when she would help her mother as a maid which, thereby suggests that Alvarez would try to change the way others saw her; she acknowledged the stigma maids had in society therefore dressed more sophisticated to revoke those notions. This was particularly interesting to me because I can connect to it and I feel others can too; we are conscious about which identities are stigmatized in any given space and will do things or dress differently to reverse those stigmas.

The piece I selected is, “Blow up the Hard Drive,” and I chose this image because it highlights several themes, all of which are important. First, the title itself is oblivious but to some degree that obliviousness relates to Alvarez’s life; she never knew her father’s role in working with the government and therefore this Double Agent Sirvienta (DAS) character is inspired by her father’s mysterious career. In the context of the audience however, the title is also mysterious― it made me think about what was in the hard drive that needed to be blown up and destroyed. Thus, this piece like most, if not all, of her artwork is influenced by her family and reflective of her personal life. Second, I feel this print challenges gendered norms, because yes the female character is a maid, but she is also an undercover detective, a career not generally thought of for women. Furthermore, there are many signs, letters, and numbers surrounding DAS, who is occupied with a laptop, which implies she is a coder, additionally refuting the notion that women are not capacitated to be in the STEM fields. Lastly, this print reinforces that everyone has a secret life, as mentioned by Alvarez, “you think you know people, but you really don’t;” she left us with this idea that there is more than meets the eye.  

Goldman and Lopez: The Iconography of Chicana/o Self-Determination

In “The Iconography of Chicano Self-Determination: Race, Ethnicity, and Class,” Shifra M. Goldman discusses how Chicana/o artists explored and thus, expressed their self-identities in their art, usually manifesting themes of race, ethnicity, and socioeconomic class (167). Throughout the essay, Goldman not only defines what race, class, and ethnicity mean, but goes on to provide specific examples of artworks and/or histories that illustrate each theme. For example, Goldman explains that race and racism was inexistent in North America, rather it was brought from the Europeans and in efforts to revoke European heritage, Chicana/o art only celebrates post-Columbian culture (167). Ethnicity is then defined as, “the set of activities, traits, customs, rituals, and other emblems of signification that are rooted in group histories,” or as I interpret it, a cultural identity (169); needless to say, class creates a hierarchy built on wealth and/or working status. Accordingly, much, if not all, of Yolanda M. Lopez’s work stressed the importance of self-determination, therefore I chose Our Lady of Guadalupe, 1978 to discuss Lopez’s expression of self-identity. Although, Lopez did not include herself in the piece, her mother Margaret ultimately epitomized the woman Lopez was. The artwork does not romanticize the working class experience, rather truthfully depicts the working status of the common brown woman which is seen in Margaret’s serious and exhausted facial expression. This artwork effortlessly accentuates the intersectionality of class, gender, and race and how each are meshed together to shape the experience of working class Raza women. Above all, I think Lopez’s work is particularly interesting because she goes so far as to include gender as an important component of self-identification, while much of the early Chicano art overlooked issues of gender.  

Our Lady of Guadalupe, 1979.
Oil pastel on paper, 22 x 30 inches.

Questions for Professor Gaspar de Alba

Question 1: In "There's No Place Like Aztlán: Embodied Aesthetics in Chicana Art," professor Gaspar de Alba assures that the myth of Aztlán fosters sexual politics; in other words, the myth is at the forefront of Chicano identity, brotherhood, and La Causa. How, then, can Chicanas dismantle or refigure and appropriate the myth in a way that will be at the core of Chicana identity, resistance, and cultural production?

I am interested in this question because for a long time now, Chicanas have resisted notions of gender and consequentially fought to refigure what it means to be a female, something beyond the conventional brown woman. Therefore, I am curious to know how Chicanas can demarcate the myth of Aztlán and/or how they have done it. One possible way to reconstitute the myth would be by immersing oneself in the theory of place-based aesthetics (Gaspar de Alba, 104). Using this concept would essentially allow Chicanas to express what Aztlán means to them in order to “fill in the gaps of the self.”

Question 2: In “Out of the House, the Halo, and the Whore’s Mask: The Mirror of Malinchismo,” Alba critiques CARA for exhibiting, by far, more male artists than female artists, and even when female artwork was displayed much of it fostered images of motherhood and other traditional women’s roles. So first, how can Chicanas overcome obstacles of underrepresentation and misrepresentation? More critically, what major themes, if any, are missing in Chicana art?

Although I would like to know more about how Chicanas can counter art that depicts them as “conventional,” I am specifically interested in themes that may not be as popular in Chicana art. For example, maybe we need more art depicting women of color as successful professionals or maybe even need art that implements satire techniques to call forth an audience in a comedic manner, yet ultimately criticize and revoke gendered notions and misogynistic art.

Sanchez, Rosemary

Hey everyone!

My name is Rosemary Sanchez and I am a third year majoring in Chicana/o studies, minoring in Education, and will hopefully add another minor by the end of this year. I aspire to one day become a high school counselor to help the brown youth navigate systems of oppression and pursue a higher education, as we are often a neglected community within society. However, I have always had a keen interest for the life sciences, so who knows maybe I will be in med school one day. Nonetheless, whichever career I pursue my main goal is to help out the Latino community and educate them about issues that are often overlooked whether it is in an educational institution or medical one.

My ethnic background is somewhat diverse― my father is Salvadoran and Jew and my mother is Mexican and Spanish. Having migrated to the United States and acculturated to the “norms”, both of  my parents have somewhat forgotten the traditions practiced in their homeland. As a result, I know just as much as they know but it has been an ongoing process for me to explore my roots.

I decided to enroll in this course because all of my coursework at UCLA has been concentrated on either political, historical, social, and economic issues but the visual arts and its aesthetics were always absent. Personally, I believe art can be just as informative and important as the themes mentioned above, so I became specifically interested in Chicana art because I think they offer a distinct perspective to issues and I would love to learn more about them.

Because I am a Latina and grew up Catholic, I knew the Virgen de Guadalupe probably before I knew my ABC’s. Both sides of my family describe her as a powerful woman deity and call her “Our Mother.” Our homes have always been filled with images of her, Jesus, and other saints which is custom that we pray to every day and night. In addition, I have many older cousins, so I recall seeing images of her as tattoos, as if she is a part of a lowrider or cholo culture. Regardless, la Virgensita  has and will always be a big part of our family.

BACA, JUDITH

 

I don't know anything about Baca but after seeing her artwork I chose her because I have a keen interest for murals. I believe murals not only incorporate several themes to analyze and delve into because of how extensive they are but their size itself allow for murals to be communal projects. Moreover, these large art works can narrate part of peoples’ lives and it is something I’d like to learn more about.