Showing posts with label 2021QuintanaSofia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2021QuintanaSofia. Show all posts

Monday, March 1, 2021

Week 10: Reflecting

 I would argue that all the things I learned in this course were instrumental to me learning about Chicana artists, but also about my Chicana identity. Before this class I had never used the word Chicana to describe myself, it felt a little alienating, I was not sure of its significance. This probably is due to the fact the word was not used in my area (the Mexicali border), we were all simply Mexicans. I felt scared that I would be less than if I identified as Chicana (much like the original intent of the word was before it was reclaimed), but I knew my experiences were slightly different. Today I am still figuring out who I am and what I stand for, but I am embracing the term Chicana. 


Two concepts within this class that I found instrumental to exploring my lived experience is rasquachismo and domesticana. While domesticana is something I practice more personally, within the confines of my personal space (whether it was my room at home or my dorm at UCLA), and it something I learned from my nana and mom practice in a similar way, rasquachismo is something my entire family portrays. It is only natural to do so as a response to the struggles associated with the immigrant experience, we had to do with what we had, thus developing the “underdog” perspective. 


The first person I think about when I think of rasquachismo is my tío Jandro (short for Alejandro). Although I would say he has been rasquache since as long as I can remember, but recently he purchased a new house and has put this concept to practice in his backyard. 


This makeshift bench is a project my uncle wanted to undertake to use the materials he had laying around, but he used it as a bonding experience with his daughters. Together they constructed it and then decided to give it a little bit of color to make the backyard a little more welcoming. 



My uncle is a plant-aficionado and here he decorated his sill snake (lengua de suegra) with bricks. In the background you can also peek at a miscellaneous metal butterfly and a pelican-shaped glass, which he has used to decorate. 


My uncle just moved into this house this past summer and with the pandemic it has been difficult to settle in or even have a proper housewarming, but the little has been able to do shows us his determination to make the space his own. I am sure that as he continues he will continue to employ his personal rasquachismo. 


Before this course I did not realize this was an actual phenomenon, though I saw it outside my family as well, I thought it was coincidence, something that happened. Sure enough, it is a thing that happens, but it is a unifying experience. 


This was my first Chicanx course, but it won’t be my last. I hope my following classes will continue to be as insightful as this one has been, and more importantly, that I will continue to learn about my identity.  


Friday, February 26, 2021

Week 9: Chicanafuturism

 Catherine S. Ramírez defined Chicanafuturism in “Deus ex Machina: Tradition, Technology, and the Chicanafuturist Art of Marion C. Martinez” as Chicano craft that reflects the influence of the modern world on tradition and through it redefines what it means to be human. I appreciated the narration of New Mexico’s history that came before we touched on the actual concept. It was successful in creating a natural transition to the culmination of what Chicanafuturism is. Personally, I think it is only logical that as time progresses our identities shift, or more accurately we are forced to react. 


The manner in which Martinez engages in Chicanafuturism is by blending the past religious history of New Mexico, the retablos and bultos, with the current concentration of technology and research. Oratorio a la Virgencita is a perfect example of this blend, depicting the religious symbol (Martinez is a devout person) with the disregarded materials around her, circuit boards most prominently.



                                                         Matachine Headdress with Guadalupe

Additionally, a comment of Martinez that caught my attention was that she considers her work to be folk. Now, this caught my attention because generally people avoid this label (though personally I do not see anything wrong with it, unless it is being used as a discrimnation tactic) and because she further explained it is because she uses what is around her, which in her case also includes technology. This is an approach that I had never considered before, and I think I will be adopting it in the future. Additionally, I believe it complements the idea behind Chicanafuturism that it is creating out of lived experience.


Monday, February 22, 2021

Week 8: Border Arte

 I found Gloria Anzaldúa’s “Border Art” to be incredibly insightful in not only describing the liminality of existing between two converging spaces, the nepantla, as someone who has lived all their life in a bordertown. There are many benefits to living by the border, such as being able to frequently visit my family who resides in México and partake in cultural events. Of course, there are cons as well, such as physically my area is very polluted due to the smog that is created from the frequent traffic to and from Mexicali, the sister town to my hometown. Between travel it is easy to feel the transition that Anzaldúa describes as your position in society changes, changing from one role to another. It especially creates some interesting scenarios to consider along the common saying “ni de aquí, ni de allá.”


Additionally, I liked her discussion on her conflicted feelings of interacting with indigenous culture, in this particular example Aztec, a sentiment I recall Yolanda M. López also expressed. I find myself aligning with her thoughts, as I, too, find comfort in the symbolism and the residues that we can notice in our now hybrid Mexican heritage, but also wonder if I am taking something that truly does not belong to me. 


I thought it would be appropriate to share border art from my own section of the border instead of the art already presented in the reading. The art I will be sharing is called “Border Metamorphosis” and it was created by the community throughout 1998-2001. It was meant to personalize the new metal sheets placed to physically mark the end of the U.S. and the start of México during the Clinton presidency. The lead artist, Armando Rascon, used Olmec elements in the geometry and the colors are meant to represent the connection from the people to earth. Largely the image is a friendship bracelet, to uphold the connection between Calexico and Mexicali, despite the physical barrier between the two cities. With the recent border modifications in the past presidency these murals have to be taken down, but a segment was conserved to be displayed in a park for the community to continue to visit. 


Picture Stacy Garcia of the fading, original mural. 

Picture by Stephanie Garcia of the conserved mural displayed in a public park.


Links to information about the mural: 
https://www.thedesertreview.com/arts_and_entertainment/calexico-binational-mural-exhibit-unveiled-at-carmen-durazo-cultural-arts-center/article_13c55ea8-d2a4-11e8-9720-abe2bab2b735.html

https://borderzine.com/2010/05/facing-a-decaying-mural-and-fading-message-the-calexico-mexicali-camaraderie-struggles-to-survive-2/


Friday, February 12, 2021

Week 7: Graffiti Is Art

I enjoyed reading "Graffiti Is Art" by Charles "Chaz" Bojórquez mainly because it offered me insight into the personal ties an artist can have to their work. Growing up I admired the graffiti designs I noticed across town and wondered how artists managed to create elaborate designs in public spaces. I wondered how they managed to get precise lines, if it came out perfect on the first try, and of course how they managed to avoid consequences. However, I never really thought much about what the work meant or could represent to the creator. 


To Chaz, his graffiti is deeply connected to Los Angeles, for example using “Old English” font on top of it always being in uppercase. It became a way through which he explored his own identity within the melting pot of LA, and beyond that his Señor Suerte became a “symbol that represented [him] and [his] streets” (Bojórquez 120). It is amazing how one image can provide people community and harbor pride, serving as Chaz’s own placa. 


Additionally, I like Chaz’s thoughts on what constitutes art, he defines it as “any drawn line that speaks about identity, dignity, and unity...that line is talking about graffiti and art” (Bojórquez 121). In this definition he is also reinforcing the idea that graffiti is art, but I like the sentiment that art does not have to be perfect or grand. Art is what art is to you, the definition exists in your mind and in what your hands create. I think if more people realized this, including myself, we would have many more artists, as people do not worry about being perfect from the start. 


A question I would like to ask to others that I was thinking of as I read throughout the essay is: what is the difference between murals and graffiti? Is it truly down to the approach? There seems to be many similarities, but the connotations of each one are opposites to each other.


Image result for sunor suerte

Sunday, February 7, 2021

Week 6: Domesticana

 From our reading of  “Domesticana: The Sensibility of Chicana Rasquachismo” I was able to understand that domesticana is different from rasquachismo in its underlying effort to defy “an imposed Anglo-American cultural identity” as well “restrictive gender identity within Chicano culture” besides the repurposing of common household items to reach a means (Mesa-Bains 94). This was my first time hearing either term, but I was interested in recognizing that I had unconsciously participated in domesticana by making an altar on the walls of my room. 


Originally, my altar was created and set up in my dorm, but has since been transplanted to my room back home. On the right wall I have some of my friends’ graduation pictures and papel picado. The papel picado shown were the first pieces I ever created, as can be seen from the lack of complexity, and are supposed to be complimentary. The yellow one depicts a bursting sun and the blue one is the moon over a hill. 


Below the pictures of my friends is a watercolor and ink painting I did of a cactus. I picked that subject matter because I feel comforted by having nopales in my surroundings. Since I was little my grandpa has always harvested nopales from our garden for our food and I have come to associate cacti not only with him but with the area I live in, thus they remind me of home. 


On my other wall there are two other paintings I did, but these are not as sentimental, I simply created them for fun and decided to place those there. However, there is a small doodle of a bear next to them that was given by my little cousin that I like to keep there to remember her. 


The last part of my altar (that also serves as my work area) is the artificial rose and the 3 of hearts leaning against it. The rose was a gift from my boyfriend from a past Valentine’s Day and I like to keep it by my altar as a way of showing my appreciation. The 3 of hearts is an allusion to our very first date, where we played Swiss for hours, and our anniversary date, which lands on a third. 


The altar I have depicted here is not conventional, or pretty, but it is a space in my room that comforts me. I like to look at it from time to time when my eyes are tired from participating in zoom classes and think of the nice memories I have of my friends and family. 


I would also like to say that not only am I surprised that I was participating in domesticana without knowing the concept, but that I actually have three other altars in my room that use different materials like candles, pine cones, paintings (both done by others and myself), up-cycled soda bottles, and funkopops, among other things.





Sunday, January 31, 2021

Week 5: La Virgen de Guadalupe

 As a Catholic, I always knew la Virgen de Guadalupe was a sacred topic, but mostly simply because I knew she was part of religion. In itself my family was never very religious and only called on certain things to reinforce certain cultural practices (like I believe many other Mexicans do). It made my idea on who la Virgen de Guadalupe is and what she represents very confusing for me as I started to question things about my surroundings. Sometimes at night I would try to pray to her because I knew other people had great faith in her, and to a degree I agreed with it, she felt like a benevolent mother. But it was confusing to explain her to other people, for example I used to have a Christian friend when I was in middle school who would constantly ask me about my religion. Particularly she critiqued la Virgen and asked me to explain why she was important in Catholicism and usually I would shift the conversation because she made me uncomfortable (eventually I put an end to our friendship). I never answered her and even if I would have tried to, I am not sure what I would have said because I never knew how to reconcile la Virgen María and la Virgen de Guadalupe. 


It was evident to me they were different, I knew la Virgen de Guadalupe represented, in a sense, México better, she was clearly a retraction from the eurocentric residual from colonization, but at the same time, they were supposed to be one and the same mother of Christ. Eventually, I simply stopped trying to think of this, and instead focus on the peace that la Virgen de Guadalupe brought me, the likeness I saw in her. 


I would say one of the most valuable lessons I have learned in this class has been the ambiguous historical origin of la Virgen, detailed in Prof. López’s essay in week 2. Of course I was familiar with the overall story of her appearance to Juan Diego, but I had never considered the symbolism in her appearance, or the source of her painting. It was amazing to consider that she was meant to be an act of rebellion from the start, indegenous resistance to the colonizer. Frankly, I think those theories make sense, and it has allowed me to see la Virgen today as living rather than passive and confined. Now I like to think of her as a Mexican woman who is capable of anything, she is more than any meaning I or another person can assign, and I hope my relationship with her and further be developed as I grow older and wiser. For now I will take joy in all the artwork Chicanas have produced featuring elements of la Virgen to continue to develop my consciousness of her.




Sunday, January 24, 2021

Blog 4: Denver Art Museum

The Denver Art Museum panel directed by Jorge Rivas centered around Mexican Modernism and featured Pablo Helguera, Damian Ortega, and, of course, our Professor Alma Lopez. I must admit that before this presentation I had no idea of what Modernism was, but I immediately was intrigued by the variety in the art that was presented. As someone with limited art knowledge, I have been under the impression all art belonging to a certain movement must be nearly identical.

The first presenter was Pablo Helguera, who is originally from Mexico City, but set out early on his career to explore what it means to create Mexican art. Part of this was exploring how others viewed Mexican cultural items and this led him to initiate the Instituto de la Telenovela, to understand the impact that telenovelas (Mexican soap operas) have on other countries. What stood out the most for me from his work were the wax cylinders that are part of the Dead Languages Conservatory. It provoked an unease in me to see how the essences of cultures could be condensed into small wax cylinders that require special technology to be heard. While part of me was in awe, another part of me was almost angry, not at Helguera, but at the prospect that the voices captured on the wax cylinder would most likely be the last to be heard speaking in those languages. It read as defeat. 


Pablo Helguera | Stanley Picker Gallery




Following Helguera, Damian Ortega then took the spotlight and told us a little bit about his background before presenting us some of his sculptures. Ortega began his career as a political cartoonist, and to this day his work remains largely political while using unorthodox materials. Experimentation is important to Ortega, he is constantly trying new methods or challenging what he can do with a material, take for example his bold exhibition, Controller of the Universe, which uses a wide variety of tools like saws, shovels, and axes. Ortega has used his time during the pandemic to continue producing incredible work, like his False Movement sculpture that utilizes oil barrels, a piece he said represented the fragility of the oil industry during the pandemic. 


Worthwhile Canadian Initiative: Oil, art, and silver plate


The last presenter was our very own Alma Lopez, who demonstrated to us the importance of being close to your art. Contrasting to Ortega, when Lopez was asked if her work was political, Lopez said that she does not seek those connotations when creating, she simply wants to depict life as she sees it, but supposes that the items she stands for are innately political. Lopez spoke greatly about the symbolism in her work, from using drawings from codices, aspects of popular Mexican culture (like La Sirena), the mythology surrounding la Virgen de Guadalupe, and the story of Coyolxauhqui. The art piece that caught my attention the most during the presentation was her serigraph that depicts the legend of Popo and Itza, particularly because it was interesting to consider this legend that I have known as a child under a new light, and I particularly like the nuance the codex gives, hinting they are in heaven. 



  




Saturday, January 9, 2021

Blog 2

 Question: Is digital art/graphics harming activism?

Answer: Throughout my reading of  “The Rise and Impact of Chicano Graphics, 1965 to Now” by Claudia Zapata I perceived there was a sense of dread regarding the rise of online tools/mediumdaresay antagonismbeneath the surface of several of the featured comments. For example, on page 131 of the essay Carol Wells is quoted as saying, “You’re not going to walk into a protest with your computer monitor, or on your lawn. Even in this hi-tech age, posters need to be printed.” There is some truth to the statement, it is not ideal to take monitors or anything fragile and heavy to a protest, but it also ignores the activism that can happen online. The past year forced us to test the scope of online outreach and we were able to see various trends. Firstly, we must remember that as printed graphics convey information rapidly through their condensed format and attention-grabbing visuals, online propagation of posters rely on the same mechanism. One of the cons of the digital age is that activists have to compete for the spotlight as online culture is fast and becomes easily disinterested. A well meaning graphic might be lost in a sea of entertainment content and remain lost. On the contrary, a pro of digital material is that it is easily distributed, the scope of its influence is not limited by visits to where it is exhibited or how many pieces are available. Although the algorithms of social media might retain information between like minded circles, members of the community place their efforts in not only spreading the pieces to unknown boundaries, but maintaining them relevant. If we begin to transition to the nonvirtual world, Carol Wells is correct, we do have to print our work, but as described in page 142 with Jesus Barraza’s honorable contribution towards justice for Alex Nieto, those involved are not discouraged by that. If anything, for those who do not possess artistic skill (myself included), it is an opportunity to share the artist’s work and message, given that consent was granted, and support the cause. At the end of the day art is subjective and forever evolving. The popularity of digital art will not eradicate traditional art, and artists will continue to make their choices towards what they prefer freely. Lastly, just as art is flexible, so is activism, it will mold to the essence of the society. Both art and activism have to work for the needs of the people, not constrict them.


Thursday, January 7, 2021

Blog 3: Yolanda González

Yolanda González is a Chicana painter that has been active within the art world since the late 1980’s. González is the daughter of Mexcian immigrants from Torreón, Coahuila and was born in Montebello, California in 1964. To the public her artistic endeavors began at the cusp of her high school graduation when she was encouraged by her teachers at San Gabriel Mission High to enter an art contest. González not only recognizes that the support she received at this point in her life was pivotal to the development of her passion, but she also won the competition. Such competition was organized by the Pasadena Art Center College of Design and granted González a scholarship to pursue her art education there. Shortly after she joined “Self-Help Graphics” where she was able to gain more experience alongside other Chicanx artists. 

At 23 González debuted her first exhibit, one of many more to decorate her career. Her art work has been displayed in many countries, including: France, Italy, South Africa, Russia, Scotland, México, the United States, and Spain. The museums that house her art are Laguna Museum, Armand Hammer Museum, Bermudez Projects, Cultural Center, Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA), Vince Price Art Museum (VPAM), among others. Early in her career she also underwent two art  residencies, the first one in 1998 in Ginza, Japan and the second in the following year in Assisi, Italy. 

However, as mentioned above, this has been what the public has been able to witness. In reality, González's artistic heritage and beginnings start in 1877 with her maternal great grandfather. When he was seventeen years old he began his own artist origin, creating realistic portraits with pencil. Although González could not meet him, González’s grandmother told her greatly about him. Her father had instilled in her his interest in art and she also created portraits throughout her life. Her grandmother then nurtured the interest González demonstrated from a young age. González’s mother seems to not have had the same inclinations in her younger years, but at 83 years old she took on ceramics (a craft González has also delved in recently). The four generation story was detailed recently at the VPAM in the exhibit titled “Sueño de Familia | Dream of Family,” showcasing art from González’s bloodline. 

When González is not in her studio creating art she is involved within her Los Angeles community by hosting workshops. As of late, she instructs a ceramics art class in AltaMed for the senior citizens, many, if not most, who have never delved into any artistic outlet throughout their lives. Another class she hosts for the senior citizens focuses on watercoloring. As of late she has rekindled her love for guitar, reforming the band she was a part of in the 1980’s. 

As for her recent art projects, her 2020 series “Metamorphosis II” is a continuation of her 1995 “Metamorphosis.” The continuity of the themes is evident, from the colorswhich themselves are starkly different from her other pieces, which tend to be wildly colorfuland the bold strokes. Additionally, the intention behind these works is the same, both were inspired after deep loss. “Metamorphosis” was conceived during her art residency in Ginza, Japan after the death of a close friend, allowing her to explore mortality. Unfortunately, González revisited the ideas she harbored back when she was 29 again after the loss of her mother, Yolanda López González, and the effects of the pandemic, as well. 

González’s art shows influences from German Expressionism, clearly seen from the emotion that is conveyed through her pieces, the Chicano movement, in the bright colors and occasional iconography (she particularly like to revisit the sacred heart), and Van Gogh, citing a particular affinity in the movement created in his pieces, as well as the texture on the canvas. 

Yolanda González


Artwork by González available in her art page under "Figurative" in Gallery. 

Quintana, Sofía


My name is Sofía Quintana. I prefer to be called Sofía and my pronouns are she/her. I am a second year sociology major, but I have begun to consider a minor in Chicano/a Studies. I hope that this class will help me decide whether to take that step. I am from Calexico, California, the sister town to Mexicali, México. My family is from different states in México, (specifically Jalisco, Michoacán, Sinaloa, and Durango) and I identify as a first-generation Chicana. My hobbies include watching movies, listening to music, playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons, bullet journaling, and occasionally watercoloring. 

My academic goal is to graduate by Spring 2023 with a bachelor’s degree in sociology, but my goal for this year is to finish my lower division requirements and begin my upper division classes. Besides the particular requirements for my major I hope I can continue to take classes that allow me to explore other perspectives, especially those that are often ignored. 


The portion of “Printing and Collecting the Revolution: The Rise and Impact of Chicano Graphics, 1965 to Now” by Carmen E. Ramos that captured my attention the most was the section that spoke about the collaboration that exists in El Movimiento. I particularly was pleasantly surprised to read of the support El Movimiento received not simply from other non-Mexican Latinx artists, but from artists belonging to other groups. I agree with the decision to include them within the exhibition because I believe this is a way to advocate for intersectional support. Along with this, it demonstrates that people can have similar themes and experiences throughout their lives despite their background. On the other hand, I think it also supports the idea that being Chicanx is more than just some geographical facts, but rather who you develop to be.