Algunas fotos del Cerco a San Lázaro encontradas en facebook.
Lourdes Grobet | La Venus, Blue Demon, Lourdes Grobet & La Familia Solar
The mask occupies a very unique place throughout Mexican culture. It’s not limited solely to festivities and religious celebrations. As I worked on my photographic project on the wrestlers in Mexico, this became increasingly evident. That is why this work is centered around Blue Demon, the wrestler, and the prehispanic head from Cholula. They become like the point of the arrow which lead us to understand the diversity of myths surrounding the mask.
In fact it is the wrestlers in Mexico, that have brought the symbol of the mask into modernity within our culture. There is no distance anymore between it’s daily use from a practical point of view, and it’s most profound references.
The mask beckons the myth and the masked person reveals the hidden message. We don’t have to travel far to prove this point. In Chiapas the hooded population carry with them the implicit protection of the Zapatista struggle. In Mexico City, a masked priest maintains financially an entire orphanage with his wrestling matches.
Our history also has in it’s traditional politics, the “hooded one” representing the candidate that is chosen by the outgoing President. While all over the country, dancers regain and re enact the struggles of resistance and their old traditions.
In Mexico, politics and culture, rites and survival are condensed in the symbol of the mask.
Maya Goded ph. - La Merced, Mexico City, Mexico 1997
in 2003 don bartletti chronicled the 1500 mile migration route through mexico, known as “the beast” for its life threatening hazards, made by hondurans trying to reach the united states.
to avoid authorities, migrants (fourth photo) hide until the train picks up speed, risking the chance of slipping on the gravel or falling under the wheels. others, like santo antonio gamay (eighth photo) risk falling off from the fatigue of having held on for fifteen hours.
experts estimate that almost 50,000 children make this journey every year without either parent. as photographer don bartletti notes, “only the brave and the lucky reach their goal.”
but bartletti also describes how In the chiapas countryside he photographed a boy and girl race their horse alongside the train. “the fleeting scene brought a few moments of joy to young honduran stowaways who have learned to fear the worst from people along the rails.”
On the 2nd of November, the altars are dismantled, then (almost) everything is brought to the cemetery.(Most of the offerings will be redistributed in the community). Honey is bought on the way, as an ultimate offering. The firecrackers signal the beginning of the mass, but also points to the sky…(Dia de Muertos, Michoacan, Mexico)
— Hey, hippie girl, you Mexican? On both sides?
— Front & back, I say.
— You sure don’t look Mexican.
A part of me wants to kick their ass. A part of me feels sorry for their stupid ignorant selves. But if you’ve never been farther south than Nuevo Laredo, how the hell would you know what Mexicans are supposed to look like, right?
There are the green-eyed Mexicans. The rich blond Mexicans. The Mexicans w/the faces of Arab sheiks. The Jewish Mexicans. The big-footed-as-a-German Mexicans. The leftover-French Mexicans. The chaparrito compact Mexicans. The Tarahumara tall-as-a-desert-saguaro Mexicans. The Mediterranean Mexicans. The Mexicans w/Tunisian eyebrows. The negrito Mexicans of the double coasts. The Chinese Mexicans. The curly-haired, freckled-faced, red-headed Mexicans. The Lebanese Mexicans. Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about when you say I don’t look Mexican. I am Mexican. Even though I was born on the U.S. side of the border.
- Sandra Cisneros, Caramelo (via victoriamonserrath)
WHEN YOU NEED TO GET PUMPED FOR FRIDAY NIGHT