Sheri picked us up in her white van at the pre-determined 9 a.m. hour, early by Oaxaca standards, though the streets were already abuzz with honking vehicles. Our first stop was the ATM (exchange rate 13.12 pesos to the dollar) to stock up again for the day long adventure down the Ocotlan highway. We passed the airport and headed south along the valley highway that leads to some incredible crafts villages, stopping for gas at Pemex the state-owned oil company. The earlier the better along this road because the Ocotlan market attracts people from throughout the region whose motivations are to shop for the sheer pleasure of it or for survival needs of buying and selling everything from oilcloth table coverings, hammocks, woven baskets, pipes and gaskets, kitchen utensils, leather belts, children’s plastic shoes and everything else under the sun, including live turkeys raised for market, feet bound in twine so as not to escape. The van boasted New Mexico license plates, a good fit for around these parts, although vehicles are brought down from every state in north America to be bought, sold and traded.
We circumvented the hubbub, stopping first at the three Aguilar sisters whose shops you might miss if you didn’t pay attention. They are on the right side of the road heading into Ocotlan, about three blocks before arriving at the zocalo, market central. This is true folk art at its best. Josefina sits with legs tucked under her on a padded blanket in the courtyard of her home and sales area forming figures out of soft clay that will later be fired in a kiln that may not reach more than eight hundred degrees. Grandchildren dart around playing with kittens. Sons and daughters participate in the clay forming and painting. Tourists from all corners of the earth stream in and out. This is a famous stopping place for collecting Oaxaca art, yet the prices of the pieces match the humble working and living space: smaller figures range in price from one hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty pesos. That translates from about twelve to twenty dollars each. Collectors and dealers buy, pack and resell these figures in the U.S. for triple or quadruple the cost.
Next door, sister Irene sculpts hot women of the night and paints their hair yellow, applying blue glitter to create a dress, bosom prominent, one arm on hip, the other akimbo sporting a cigarette, a snake boa wrapped to cover cleavage (just barely). Imagination flies. A muerta, not yet painted, bares her skeletal teeth and she flaunts a haughty lilt of the head topped with a wide-brimmed hat to shade her from the strong sun. How will I get these home? I ask myself as I consider a purchase. Oh, don’t think about it, I answer silently. Go for it anyway, and I do, and because of my magic packing suitcase, everything arrives undamaged. My prize possession from Guillermina is a skeletal crone whose flowing dress is painted black. The hem is adorned with cream colored skulls, a red spider crawls along the folds of her skirt, a black shawl frames the sinister face. Dia de los Muertos is characterized by underworld forms.
Forgive me if I repeat myself. The impressions of Oaxaca are continuous revelations in memory. As we head back out of town, we make a left turn almost immediately onto the side road leading to San Antonino, where I want to relocate Don Jose Garcia, the blind potter. We go down a ways, turn right, make an immediate left at the next street and look for the clay animals that hang over the door to the courtyard that signals we have arrived. A dog barks. The door is ajar. We ring the bell and step inside to be welcomed by the family. Life-size clay figures cluster around the patio, are tucked haphazardly into corners, are laying on their sides — humans, animals, children. We are greeted by Don Jose and his wife who guide us into the workshop packed with more sculpture, wall to wall, like the clay soldiers of Xian, men, women, and children stand or kneel side by side, almost alive, waiting to be adopted and taken home.
These pieces are glorious, primitive, raw clay, unglazed. Some are rough. Some are polished. Each with a unique expression that conveys individuality and personality, a special quality that Don Jose has breathed life into as he forms the clay, braids the hair, fashions the nose, tilts the neck, arches the brow or mustache. These are heavy pieces, primitive. To ship them would require a crate and an investment of hundreds of dollars. We admire and take our leave.
Hungry, our next stop is at Azucena where Jacobo Angeles operates a fine restaurant that caters to tourists and tour buses, Elderhostel, and other forms of non-adventure travel. This is good for San Martin Tilcajete business, since Jacobo represents many of the finest carvers in the village. On this day, there is a special exhibition of regional folk art on the grounds of the restaurant and gallery, a perfect opportunity to pick up another carving, to eat and drink well, and to make a necessary bathroom stop.
We backtrack to Santo Tomas Jalieza to visit Abigail Mendoza and her family at Nicolas Bravo #1. On backstrap looms, they weave fine cloth with intricate figures that are fashioned into handbags, belts, wrist bands, table runners, and placemats. Abigail does the finish work for the rugs woven by Arnulfo Mendoza and Tito Mendoza. This is among the finest quality backstrap loom weaving you will find anywhere in the Oaxaca valley.
By now, it is five o’clock in the afternoon and the light is beginning to wane. We travel along the highway back to Oaxaca with a trunk full of goodies, ready for a fresh mango margarita and guacamole at La Olla. Descanse.
Book Review: Weaving, Culture and Economic Development in Miramar, Oaxaca, Mexico
Book: Weaving Yarn, Weaving Culture, Weaving Lives: A Circle of Women in Miramar, Oaxaca, Mexico; published by Almadia, 2010; photography by Tom Feher, text by Judith Lockhart-Radtke; ISBN: 978-607-411-059-3
Book Review by Norma Hawthorne
Stunning photographs and intimate personal interviews of indigenous Mixtec women weavers accentuate what it means to keep culture, community, and weaving traditions alive in this remote mountain village of Oaxaca, Mexico.
One of my favorite photographs in this book is a close-up of the calloused, gritty soles of a woman’s feet elegantly peeking out from under the hem of a fanciful floral skirt as she sits on her knees. While I only see her feet and hemline, I know she is at work weaving on a back strap loom. It is a sensitive depiction of both the obstacles and the hopefulness of an ancient culture struggling to survive and thrive.
The glorious full-color photography is by Tom Feher and the written narrative is by Judith Lockhart-Radtke. The book is a culmination of almost a decade of work between the volunteer group, The Circle of Women in Boston, MA, and what developed into a self-sustaining cooperative of women weavers in the Alta Mixteca, far from Oaxaca City. The book was published to coincide with an exhibition for the weavers at the Museo Textil de Oaxaca in 2010. It documents and is a beautiful testimony to a cultural interchange that encouraged learning and literacy, economic independence, and access to better health care.
Eleven Mixtec Women Share Their Life Stories in Their Own Words
The charm of this book is in its ethnographic storytelling. Each of the eleven Miramar women who are members of the cooperative are interviewed and share their personal experiences about being a Mixtec woman, a weaver, a wife or mother or daughter. Some are eloquent in describing the experience of their empowerment by learning to read and write. Others poignantly describe the pain of separation and isolation from husbands, sons, and brothers who are, by necessity, working in El Norte and sending money back where there is no work.
Through these visual and written stories we see and hear the struggles of poverty, deprivation, and limited access to health care. We are also clearly reminded of the universality of womanhood: when women support each other through mutuality and connection they have much greater opportunity to thrive, especially in traditional patriarchal cultures where women have always been physically, economically and emotionally dependent. The photographs are powerful, simple, and elegant. They are complete stories in and of themselves.
Text is in both English and Spanish
The layout of this book — left side of the page in English, right side in Spanish — creates a bridge to understanding. The forwards by Ana Paula Fuentes Quintana, the director of the Textile Museum, and famed Mixteca singer-songwriter Lila Downs, add considerable heft to the story. The book is definitely for those with an interest in women’s studies, grassroots organizing, intercultural exchange and the role of the outsider, economic development and sustainability, weaving, textile art and design, and anyone interested in Oaxaca, Mexico.
Effecting change and making a difference in another culture
Judith Lockhart-Radtke, a clinical social worker and writer, gives us an honest and clear account of the risks, rewards, disappointments, and joy for volunteers from other countries who want to make a difference and effect change. Ultimately, she reminds us, the generation of ideas and their implementation must originate from within to take root and have lasting impact.
The addendum, written in 2010, provides a concise summary of the village economy, the community’s approach to income earning and distribution, the ongoing challenges of maintaining a Boston-Oaxaca collaboration and a move to self-sufficiency, and the impediments to bringing these handmade textiles to foreign markets.
For Information and Book Orders – Contact: Judith Lockhart-Radtke, President of The Circle of Women, Boston, MA; judithlockhartradtke@gmail.com
www.thecircleofwomen.org
www.mixtecaweavers.com
Like this:
Comments Off on Book Review: Weaving, Culture and Economic Development in Miramar, Oaxaca, Mexico
Posted in Books & Resources, Cultural Commentary, Textiles, Tapestries & Weaving, Travel & Tourism
Tagged art, backstrap loom, book, cooperative, culture, economic development, Judith Lockhart-Radtke, Lila Downs, Mexico, Miramar, Mixteca Alta, Museo Textil de Oaxaca, Oaxaca, photography, postaweek2011, sustainable, Tom Feher, traditions, weaving, Women