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Posts Tagged ‘street art’

I wonder…  What is artist Nicko Foster saying along the walls of calle Constitución?

Behind every mask there is a face, and behind that a story.
–Marty Rubin

P1130219The human face is, after all, nothing more nor less than a mask.
Agatha Christie

P1100946I believe in my mask–The man I made up is me
I believe in my dance– And my destiny
Sam Shepard

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It’s been nine months since 43 students from the Escuela Normal Rural Raúl Isidro Burgos teachers’ college in Ayotzinapa, Guerrero went missing — a traumatic, heartbreaking, and disgraceful anniversary that isn’t going unnoticed.  The Missing Mexican Students Case Is Not Closed For 43 Families, nor for the people of Mexico.

Yesterday, in Tlacolula de Matamoros, the signs were impossible to miss, as we walked down the main street.  The community continues to remember her son, Cristian Tomás Colón Garnica, one of the Ayotzinapa 43.

P1100112“His father traveled from their land when the abduction of the 43 young normal school students was first reported. ‘I am a day laborer. I make 600 pesos [USD$44.50] weekly, maximum, and that’s when there’s work, because sometimes there is no work. My boy wants to be a teacher. That is the job he wants, but they stopped him, they arrested him … What are we going to do?!'”  — from Mexico Voices.
P1100110On the wall, near the stencils above, posters announced events in Oaxaca city in remembrance of the students.  As the murals at the north entrance to Tlacolula de Matamoros proclaim…

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“VIVOS 43 LOS QUEREMOS”

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Yesterday, I hibernated at home; a day spent unpacking and recovering.  Today, Carlos, now upgraded to a hurricane, is swirling off the coast of southern Mexico and bringing grey skies, chilly temperatures (it hasn’t even hit 70ºF), and a relentless drizzle.  It’s not the kind of day that draws one out into the streets.  However, the larder needed to be restocked and the cell phone needed to be reactivated, so, with umbrella in hand, I was forced to venture out.

On the upside, the rain brings out the greens of the cantera.  Though, I’m not sure where this concrete insert in the sidewalk at the corner of Independencia and Garcia Vigil came from or what it means.  (Update:  It’s Grupo: Salvando Vidas. Oaxaca — a volunteer group that has taken on the much needed task of repairing the city’s sidewalks muy peligrosas, saving lives and limbs!  h/t,  Peggy)

For some mystifying (at least to me) reason, Telcel deactivates my cell phone if I don’t use it for three weeks — this is despite the fact that I have a ridiculously high saldo (balance) in my account.  So, my first stop was to add even more pesos in order to reactivate my service.  With that chore in the rear view mirror, I crossed Independencia onto the Alameda, on my way to Mercado de Benito Juárez (or, Bennie J’s, as my friend G christened it years ago), only to find much of it covered with tents.

P1090803I’d read the news and had steeled myself for the return of ambulantes, but wasn’t prepared for ten times the number of Sección 22 teachers union tents from when I left in mid May.  Navigating the ropes tethering the tarps was a challenge and I had to forgo the umbrella.  The teachers looked cold and miserable and the restaurants under the portales looked mostly empty.  This is definitely not a picnic for anyone.  Continuing on to the mercado, I filled my shopping bag and headed for home.

P1090816However, the signs of protest are everywhere.  In the “Emerald City,” the more things change, the more they stay the same.

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Looking forward to tomorrow’s return to Oaxaca, though not sure what I will find.  So, in preparation, a little street art, apropos of nothing…

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… and everything.

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Situated metaphorically at the busy intersection of imagery and content—and informed by history, mass media, commerce, and pop culture—stickers address both the personal and the political.  — Street Art Graphics, The Richard F. Brush Art Gallery, St. Lawrence University.

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Stick-to-itiveness:  the quality that allows someone to continue trying to do something even though it is difficult or unpleasant.

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Street art stickers — a metaphor for Mexico, methinks.

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Just so you know…  The gods are watching you on Tinoco y Palacios, between Morelos and Matamoros.

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Hmmm…. sometime between January, when I first photographed the mural and a few days ago, when I returned, an airplane landed on the tongue.

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Recently, BBCtrending posted the video, Aztec to urban — Mexico’s street art explosion, highlighting the use of Mexico’s pre-Columbian imagery in contemporary street art.  I don’t know the name of the artist who painted the mural above, but seeing the “Dioses Urbanos” of Diego Alvarez (aka, Ocote) in the video, brought it to mind.

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Yesterday, the city of Oaxaca celebrated its 483rd birthday as a Spanish chartered city.  Early in the morning bells were rung, Las Mañanitas was sung, tamales and atole were served, an air force flyover buzzed the city several times, multiple musical events were held, a convite paraded through the streets, fireworks exploded from the Plaza de la Danza, and more, and it continues.  I was going to write about it, but…

Today a more urgent anniversary requires our attention:  Mexico Marks 7 Months Since 43 Ayotzinapa Students Disappeared.  Family, fellow classmates, friends, and supporters around the world keep their names alive and cry for justice.  And artists continue to reach into our minds and hearts through their music, artwork, and film making.

In the documentary, Ayotzinapa’s 43 Disappeared: Family & Friends Remember, we hear the voices of their classmates and relatives. They don’t trust the official story and are determined to find out what happened.

Near the end of the song, “La Patria Madrina,” from her new album, Balas y Chocolate (Bullets and Chocolat), Lila Downs chants the Ayotzinapa 43 mantra that can be seen and heard all over Mexico, ¡Vivos los llevaron, vivos los queremos!  (They were taken alive, and we want them back alive!)

And, on walls throughout Mexico, our attention is called to the missing 43 students from the Escuela Normal Rural Raúl Isidro Burgos, teachers’ college in Ayotzinapa, Guerrero.

Oaxaca de Juárez

Oaxaca de Juárez

Mexico City

Mexico City

Mexico City

Mexico City

Oaxaca de Juárez

Oaxaca de Juárez

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Love and adventure on Calle de Los Mártires de Tacubaya!!!

Before he plunges into the deep to do battle with the giant pulpo, one last kiss goodbye from the girl in the red car.

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Kiss the Girl Goodbye

Kiss the girl goodbye
It’s time for me to fly
Wipe the tears away
I’ll be home some day, baby
So baby, please wait for me
Don’t want no one to take my place
You’re the one for me
And that’s the way love should be We’ve been apart so many times before
One more time won’t change things
I’ll even love you more We’ve been apart so many times before
One more time won’t change things
I’ll even love you more (Kiss me) kiss the girl goodbye (goodbye) it’s time to fly
(Kiss me) wipe the tears away (goodbye)
(Kiss me) kiss the girl goodbye (goodbye) it’s time to fly
(Kiss me) wipe the tears away (bye)
(Kiss me) kiss the girl goodbye (goodbye) it’s time to fly
(Kiss me) wipe the tears away

Songwriters:  Peter Criss, S. Penridge
Kiss The Girl Goodbye lyrics © Reach Music Publishing-Digital Obo Rock Steady Music

(Not their typical fare, but still, I can’t believe I’ve posted a song from Kiss!!!)

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“What do you do all day?”  It’s a question I’ve been asked countless times since I began my retired life down Oaxaca way and I’m not alone.  Most expats here have heard those words — a query that hints at the notion that there couldn’t possibly enough to fill the day in a place where one isn’t fluent in the language, isn’t surrounded by family and old friends, and doesn’t have a job.  A large part of the answer is, doing most everything takes longer.  And that is not a bad thing!  Perhaps, a photo diary of this morning’s grocery shopping excursion might provide an illustration.

After morning coffee and breakfast, catching up on email and the news, washing dishes, showering and dressing, I grabbed a couple of shopping bags and headed out at 10 AM.  The initial plan had been to walk up to Niños Heroes (the Pan American highway) to photograph some new murals, cross the highway to the Organic Market, and then return home by way of Sánchez Pascuas mercado where I could get chicken, quesillo, and anything else that remained on my shopping list or struck my fancy.  However, for almost an hour, I’d been hearing Guelaguetza music coming from the Plaza de la Danza.  I decided a detour was in order and found kindergartners performing Oaxaca’s traditional folkloric dances, including this one  where couples take turns “dissing” each other in a rhythmic double-entendre laden dialogue.  It always gets laughs — wish I could understand the jokes!  Needless to say, I hung out watching the kids for awhile.

P1080705I finally tore myself away and resumed my original itinerary.  Some of the murals were east of the Pochimilco Organic Market so I decided to start at the end and work my way back — a route which took me up the Macedonio Alcalá where I saw a sidewalk vignette of hats and scarves lined up in front of Santo Domingo.  There was also a small marmota (cloth globe on a pole) laying on its side, so I’m guessing there was to be a calenda (parade) of some sort.

P1080715After stopping to take a few photos (how could I resist the juxtaposition with the Peña Nieto graffiti?) I found myself behind these vendors taking their merchandise up to Llano Park for its Friday market.

P1080717Deciding to speed up my slow progress on the errands I’d set forth for the morning, I passed the gals only to stop to watch Oaxaca’s version of the dog whisperer working with four Xoloitzcuintlis (Mexican Hairless Dogs).

P1080722 (1)Eventually continuing north, I arrived at Niños Heroes and the murals and street art I’d come to find and photograph.  They deserve their own blog post, so I will save those photos for another day.  However, I also ran across this wonderful wall!  P1080752Crossing the highway, I found the newly built and landscaped stairs (almost didn’t recognize them) leading up to Xochimilco and the Pochimilco Organic Market.  I wandered and lingered and tasted — including a few of these mezcals, as I’ve got a US trip coming up and a stepson who probably won’t speak to me if I don’t bring him a couple of bottles.

P1080755Popping some gum in my mouth (didn’t want my breath to smell like I’m a lush), I headed south on Tinoco y Palacios to catch a couple of new murals I’d had fleeting glimpses of when returning from last Sunday’s trip to Tlacolula.  This one had particularly caught my eye.

P1080788By the time I arrived at Sánchez Pascuas, it was after 12 noon.  I found my poultry guy, paid a visit to the cheese vendor, picked up some veggies from my favorite produce gal, and, on the way out, bought some homemade salsa verde.  Yummm…  As I descended the three stairs down to the sidewalk, I turned around to admire the beautiful color of the flamboyant and jacaranda trees and the tranquility of this setting in the middle of the state’s bustling capital city.

P1080815It was close to 1 PM when I unlocked the door to my apartment.  If I were in California, I would have jumped in the car, driven down to the local Friday organic market (with not a drop of mezcal in sight), browsed a bit, spent way too much money, climbed back in the car to finish shopping at Safeway, before returning to the house, probably by 11 AM.

Here in Oaxaca, I’d been gone almost three hours, walked close to fifty (often hilly) blocks, and seen some wonderful, creative, and life affirming sights.  And, that doesn’t even include the scattering of conversations with my neighbors and Luís and Luci, who work here.  Just another Friday.  Not a bad way to live one’s life!

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Pick a color, any color, and you will find it in Oaxaca, be it people…

Places or things…

Today, I choose orange.  Tomorrow, who knows???

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It’s been five months since 43 students from the Escuela Normal Rural Raúl Isidro Burgos teachers’ college in Ayotzinapa, Guerrero went missing.  Their parents, the people of Mexico, and growing numbers around the world continue to ask, Who is Really Responsible?

A mural recently appeared along a very long wall at the entrance to Tlacolula de Matamoros.

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As I’ve previously mentioned, one of missing is Cristian Tomás Colón Garnica from Tlacolula de Matamoros.

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I realized, as I was processing the photos, each panel of the mural incorporates a letter.  One has to stand back (in the street) to see words materialize.  However, when we went back to Tlacolula on Sunday, there were cars and trucks parked in front of most of the mural and all we could see was, “Vivos 43.”  I would love to hear from you, if you know the full text.

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A nuevo vecino arrived in the neighborhood a few days ago…

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And, I’m guessing, he’s not happy.

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Ahhh, it feels good to be back in the warm and wonderful Oaxaca.  There are the sounds…  I awake to church bells, followed by the loudspeaker cry of “Gas de Oaxaca” from the propane vendor.  Last night, as I was heading to bed, rockets exploded and, just now, the camote man’s steam whistle sounded, announcing tooth-achingly sweetened hot sweet potatoes and bananas.  Then there are the sights…

The walls continue to talk…  On Thursday, I saw this on Calle Morelos as I walked to the Alcalá and comida with friends.  It remembers Leonel Castro Abarca, one of the 43 still-missing students from Escuela Normal Rural Raúl Isidro Burgos teachers’ college in Ayotzinapa, Guerrero.

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On the way home from comida, I detoured to see what was to be seen on the zócalo.  Teacher tents remain pitched around the bandstand, but the walkways were free of ambulantes, and, as always, the Cathedral presided over the scene.

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Thursday, the familiar sounds of protest were irresistible.  I grabbed my camera and headed out the front gate to see a massive march by healthcare workers on their way to the Plaza de la Danza.  To be honest, tubas and cohetes would have had me out the door, too!  It was way too quiet in el norte.

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And, what can I say about last night’s sunset from the terrace?

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Naturally, a marmota and pair of monos were waiting on the plaza in front of Santo Domingo this afternoon, awaiting a bride and groom to emerge.  After all, it is Saturday — wedding day in Oaxaca!

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I wonder what my ears will hear and my eyes will see, mañana…

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More of the mural from yesterday’s post

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“¡Solo Dios perdona!” (Only God forgives!)

Seen on the same wall in Tlacolula de Matamoros where we were stopped in our tracks by the Tlacolula never dies mural in August.  Both were conceived and created by the Tlacolulokos colective.

The artists are known for fusing iconic Mexican imagery with political and social commentary and can be found on Facebook.

These traditional religious standards voice today’s messages, “against all governments” and “alive we want them.”  The latter refers to the disappeared and murdered students from the Escuela Normal Rural Raúl Isidro Burgos, teachers’ college in Ayotzinapa, Guerrero, one of whom, Christian Tomás Colón Garnica, is from Tlacolula.

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Finally over the flu, I flew to the east coast, arriving along with an arctic cold front.  Brrr… it was -14ºF early yesterday morning!!!  However, here on a frigid New York Friday…

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And, there on a sunny Tlacolula Sunday…

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A splash of red to liven up the day.

* Mural by Tlacolulokos.

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