Tag Archives: religion

Day of the Dead 2013 Begins in Oaxaca

Visitors and local revelers fill the streets.  Hotels are booked months ahead.  The pre-Hispanic traditions of Day of the Dead — Dia de los Muertos — in Oaxaca are becoming blended once again as people gather for this amazing celebration of life.

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The Spanish combined ancient indigenous practice with Catholic All Saints Day. Now, as migrants return home to Mexico from the United States, the Halloween celebration and symbols from El Norte cross the border going south, and change happens.

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On Sunday, families and young lovers gathered on the Zocalo to play with balloons, eat cotton candy or crunchy glazed red candy apples.

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In late afternoon, we stumbled upon preparations for a mass in honor of the Virgin of the Rosary — Virgen del Rosario — at the famous gilded Santo Domingo Church, complete with village representatives adorned in indigenous dress participating, followed by a glorious fireworks spectacle which we saw from the rooftop terrace at Casa Oaxaca over dinner and mezcalinis.

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On Monday, the comparsa — or children’s parade — assembled on the plaza at Santo Domingo before marching down the Alcala.  

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Street vendors, moms and dads with costumed children, often costumed themselves, and tourists with cameras mulled around.  The band played and Santo Domingo was aglow in the light of late afternoon.  

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Two make-up artists were on hand to decorate the faces of toddlers, youngsters, teens and adults.  The kids sat patiently while large hands tickled their faces with colored pencils, lipstick and lots of powder.

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The walking street that connects Santo Domingo with the Zocalo was a crowd scene.  Fun, colorful, and sometimes I got the impression that the parents wanted to be there more than the children did!  A universal circumstance.

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Of course, food is a highlight here, as is cempasuchitl.  Love the food at Cafe San Pablo.  Well prepared and reasonably priced.  Shall we say goodnight now?

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Madrid, Morocco and Mexico: Conquest, Empire, Power and Religion

Madrid was my gateway city to and from Morocco. I planned two full days there on the way back for arts immersion.  (It wasn’t enough time!) What was quickly revealed were the inextricable links between Spain, Mexico and the Americas, and North Africa.  This last stop on my journey tied it all together.  Our histories are linked, intertwined, related.

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Flanking the entrance to the Palacio Real in Madrid are greater than life-size marble statues of Moctezuma, Mexico’s Aztec ruler (above right), and Atahualpa, Peru’s Inka king.  The conquest of Mexico and Peru provided Spain with extraordinary New World wealth and power including gold, silver, cochineal and labor.

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These sculptures acknowledge the subjugated people of Mexico and Peru on whose backs the Spanish Empire was built during the reign of Holy Roman Emperor and King Charles (Carlos) V.   The sculptures also represent Spanish religious will to convert the world to Catholicism through whatever means.  The Baroque 18th Century palace built by Phillip (Felipe) IV honors the role his grandfather King Charles played in empire building and solidifying his succession.

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At the beginning of the 16th Century, Spain defined herself as defender of orthodoxy.  At the same time as Cortes and Pisarro were funded to plunder and convert the Americas, the Spanish kings were coalescing territory and power on the Iberian Peninsula.  The Spanish Inquisition, started in 1492 by Ferdinand La Catolica and Isabel la Catolica (as they are known in Spain and Mexico), to purify Spain and purge her of Moslems and Jews, continued until 1834 and extended to Mexico and her territories in the American southwest.  At the same time, the growing Protestant movement promised to threaten traditional faith.

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As I walked the magnificent Palacio Real halls, grander than Versailles, surrounded by a collection of Renaissance art second only to Italy, handwoven Belgium tapestries, crystal chandeliers, sterling silver, gilded mirrors, and all the adornments of royalty, I could not stop thinking about the human cost to the indigenous peoples of the Americas to finance Habsburg Spain, European Machiavellian politics, and the Thirty Years War.

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Velazquez, Titian, Botecelli, Rubens, Hieronymus Bosch, Goya, Rafael and Tintoretto are only of the few artists commissioned and collected by Spanish monarchs and on exhibit at the Museo el Prado.  The collection in the Museo el Prado is extraordinary.  At the Palacio Real, I was able to see an exhibition open to the public for the first time of paintings decorating the walls of El Escorial, the monastery and mausoleum constructed as a religious retreat center by Phillip IV, located 45 miles from Madrid.

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When I returned to Hostal Don Juan — fabulous and affordable — I conveyed my experience to Juan Antonio.  He replied wistfully that Spain was once the most powerful country in the world.  Ah, yes, I said, things change, don’t they?  America is on the wane and now China takes her turn.  Then, I returned to my favorite tapas bar Mercado de la Reina, where locals sip great beer on tap and delicious red table wine starting at 11 a.m.

The Spanish may no longer be a world power, but they sure know how to live!

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Modest Organ with Big Sound: San Jeronimo Tlacochahuaya, Oaxaca

San Jeronimo Tlacochahuaya, Oaxaca is an agricultural town.  Farmers grow organic crops throughout the seasons: corn, squash, runner beans, garlic, garbanzos, flowers, and alfalfa.  Mostly, Tlacochahuaya is renowned for its 1678 Baroque organ housed on the balcony above the 16th century gilded Dominican church sanctuary.  It is a historic treasure.

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It is eleven o’clock Sunday morning and mass does not begin here until eight o’clock tonight. The circuit priest, who is based here and lives in the cloister, makes his rounds to serve nine villages in the Tlacolula Valley, serving mass at various times during the day.

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Moises Garcia Guzman and organist Soledad Hernandez Mendez invited us to see and hear this beautiful instrument.   To get there, we climb a narrow, steep-stepped, stone stairway that winds from first floor to second.  I remember similar in Rome and Paris, dark, damp and eerie.  The steps spiral from the interior wall like an accordion.

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He describes the instrument as a modest organ with a big sound.  Moises, born and raised in Tlacochahuaya (say..T-Lah-Koh-Chah-Why-Ya), lives in Los Angeles and works in the high-tech industry.  A speaker of Zapotec, Spanish and English, he has dreams to return home to teach.  He loves this place, and I see why.

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Moises explains the church and organ history as we stand under the dome in the center of the space.  The organ sounds echo, reverberate from walls and ceiling, penetrate through me as if I am a porous receptacle, wrap me in comfort.   The space is filled with so much sound that I cannot hear the words others are speaking just a few feet away from me.  It is ethereal and meditative.  I am reminded of Bach and Pachelbel.  Soledad makes the ivory keys dance.

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Known as an Organo Iberico, the organ was built in Oaxaca with Puebla influences.  It has carderitas — big hips that flare, says Moises.  It was constructed this way to contain the bellows.  First built as a portable organ, the bellow controls were later moved from the side to the front when it was given its permanent place here.  The organ was fully restored in 1995.  The painting is exquisite.

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The church is undergoing continuous restoration.  We are surrounded by frescoes, most of which have been renewed.  Yet back in the cloister and in some corners of the church, I see originals, shadows of their once prominent beauty faded, yet still glorious in design and remnants of color.

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We sit on the adobe half-wall of the cloister.   One priest still lives here.  Once, this was the center of Dominican Catholicism for the entire valley.  Though the town is smaller than many that surround it today, Tlacochahuaya retains its prominence as the the regional parish.  After the conquest, it was the center of Spanish priestly and aristocratic life.  Crumbling haciendas and a coat of arms given to Tlacochahuaya by the Spanish attest to the glory days.

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Moises and linguist Brook Lillehaugen talk about the influence of Fray Juan de Cordoba, who lived here in the cloister, translated Zapotec to Spanish, and created a dictionary.  There were many priests who translated and made dictionaries, she says, but none compare to the one by Fray Juan de Cordova.

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As we complete the church visit and before we walk to lunch, we stop to look at the edifice of stone construction.  See the metate embedded into the wall.  See the Danzante carved stone there, too.  The church was built from stones taken from the Zapotec temple at Dainzu.

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Yet, the original Zapotec religion survived, was adapted, hidden in the iconography of the crucifixion and the new religion.  Moises points to the figure of Jesus on the Cross (above left).  Do you see the face of corn goddess there on his chest? he asks. How his ribs look like ears of corn?  The figure was sculpted by locals and worshipped by the faithful.  They say the priests never knew.

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In 1926, Southern Baptist missionaries came to Tlacochahuaya to establish a foothold in the region and built a now decaying adobe sanctuary.  Today, religious beliefs are diverse and many Christians of various denominations live side-by-side with the predominantly Catholic population in towns throughout the valley.

From the Hip: The Church of Santa Maria Tonantzintla, Puebla

On the outskirts of the town of San Pablo Cholula, about 40 minutes from the City of Puebla, lies the Church of Santa Maria Tonantzintla.  It is not to be missed and photography is verboten inside.

   

There are two parts to my story today.  First, it is a mecca for several reasons.  The church is rendered in an architectural style called Indigenous Baroque — a native interpretation of the famed Rosary Chapel (Capilla de Rosario) of Puebla’s Templo de Santo Domingo.  Some also say it is an adaptation of Oaxaca’s famed Santo Domingo de Guzman church. In my opinion, Santo Domingo de Guzman is much tamer and Capilla de Rosario is a Spaniard’s dream.  The Tonantzintla interior is so fantastically sculpted, carved and adorned in gold that it is difficult to take your eyes off it.  It calls me back. That is my experience!

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Every square inch of wall and ceiling is covered in wood carved faces, none exactly like the other, some painted in cherubic white skin, others painted in darker native skin.  Eyes and faces look down and follow you, it seems.  It is difficult to believe that a spiritual deity is not omnipresent in this space.

The church proudly declares that it is not part of the archdiocese of Puebla and attends to its flock who follow the Virgin of Guadalupe, Mexico’s patron saint, independently.  The interior is carefully guarded from negligent tourists who might take a photo with flash, therefore the rule is, No Cameras Allowed, at all.  Zero. Nada.  One can buy postcards of the interior ceiling, walls, and altar at a table by the entrance which does support the restoration. (Yes, I did that!)

 

When I visited for the first time in early March I was awestruck and took many photos of the exterior, stood at the entrance and tried to get as many clear interior shots as I could without luck.  Then, in a data transfer, I lost all my Puebla photos.  Perfect excuse for a return, YES?

Part Two: When I returned mid-week in late March with my sister, fortune called. We stumbled upon a mass in celebration of El Escapulario de La Virgen del Carmen. The church was packed.  A gaggle of pre-teen girls adorned in white lacy wedding-style dresses and mantillas, each wearing a Maria embroidered hang-tag, assembled in the church yard.  Not a Catholic, I thought it was a confirmation. I suppose it was, of sorts,  the symbolic commitment of young women to Jesus and eternal life.

We entered and stood in the back with our cameras.  There were many official church and family videographers and photographers, so I confess here that I took the chance to take a few interior shots from the hip myself.

  

For a spectacular cultural immersion photography adventure, join us for Day of the Dead Photography Expedition.  It starts October 28, 2012.

Portrait Photography Workshop in Oaxaca: Good Friday–Day Five

Today, we are immersed in the reverence and solemnity of Good Friday, moving along with the crowds to photograph the religious and social rituals that are part of this important day. Here in Oaxaca, Mexico it’s called Viernes Santo and celebrated with traditional European-style that very different from the United States.

We are based in Teotitlan del Valle for the second part of our portrait photography workshop. The giant matraca (wood clackers), positioned on top of the church between the two steeples, started yesterday evening on Maundy Thursday and went on all night.  It can be heard throughout the village. To signify the Last Supper, our host Josefina served us succulent fish stuffed chiles rellenos and a potato turnover with salsa, accompanied by white beans to signify the season.

This day, Good Friday, began with not one but two processions, one led by half the townspeople following the figure of Jesus held high on a litter, and the other led by the Virgin of Soledad (solitude) who represents Mary.

 

Each procession was led by a brass band, singers, noisemakers and drummers through different parts of the village.  They converged at the exact same moment in the Zocalo in front of the village governing center called the Municipio or Palace.

There must have been 600 people sitting under the shade of the rug market, on the steps of the Palace and protected by umbrellas from the fierce sun that was strong even at ten o’clock in the morning.  The priestly benediction included adhering to the ways of Jesus to refrain from violence, alcoholism, and to maintain strong community and family connections.  A good universal message, I thought.

 

This is a reverent and solemn occasion for the people of Teotitlan del Valle. Most here take their religious life seriously and are observant.  I was impressed by the mix of husbands and wives and children, young men and women, as well as the traditional abuelas and abuelos (grandmothers and grandfathers) who participated today.

     

It was not unusual to see entire families sitting together or standing for the hour-long priestly blessing.  There is no mass on Good Friday as is the custom.  In the magic light of late in the afternoon, the people processed from the church to the cemetery and then back again.  This will complete the spiritual connection with dead loved ones, as well.

   

Our next photography workshop is this summer 2012:  Oaxaca Photography Expedition: Market Towns and Artisan Villages.  Two spaces left.  Don’t miss it!