Framing indigeneity in early ethnographic Mexican film: An analysis of Peregrinación a Chalma/Pilgrimage to Chalma (Díaz Ordaz 1922)

This article approaches the exhibition of indigeneity in the early Mexican ethnographic film Peregrinación a Chalma / Pilgrimage to Chalma (Díaz Ordaz 1922) as a simultaneous display of criollo/mestizo hegemonic culture and institutions. As a product of the Mexican anthropological establishment at an early moment of the discipline’s investment in post-revolutionary indigenismo and mestizaje, the film participates in the endeavour to document and disseminate aspects of indigenous culture and the will to affirm the existence of a modern, non-indigenous Mexican identity. Through filmic analysis, the article illustrates how the film’s use of the stylistic conventions of the classical ethnographic mode creates a distanced rendering of Indigenous people that elevates the criollo/mestizo perspective and casts its representatives as the official curators of and modern foils to indigeneity. Furthermore, through its textual and stylistic conventions, Peregrinación a Chalma positions the spectator to view indigeneity from the position of hegemonic criollo/mestizo culture, aligning the spectator with the cultural perspective that presents itself as dominant and authoritative. The spectatorial positionality crafted by the film is in tune with the modernizing and homogenizing aims of indigenismo and mestizaje in the early post-revolutionary period.

Epilogue

Mexicans and other Latinos constitute 44 percent of Chicago Catholics. Facing a wave of parish closures, the archdiocese’s vitality rests heavily on Latinos. In Pilsen, once home to thirteen parishes, today only three parishes remain. This barrio’s Mexican identity is further challenged by gentrification. Yet Mexican Catholic devotion flourishes in Pilsen in public and unexpected ways, from house shrines and Day of the Dead altars to street Masses and citywide pilgrimages. What developed decades ago in a couple of parishes, most notably, St. Francis, impacts the entire archdiocese. Latinos constitute 17 percent of the US population, and the Mexican-descent population has settled in every state. Chicago’s century-old Mexican population offers lessons for countless dioceses and parishes in the midst of ethnic integration and succession around the nation.

Corridos, Tequila (and others), and Mexican/Chicano Masculinity

The Mexican corrido is one of the most popular cultural manifestations both in the United States and Mexico. From its origins in the mid-nineteenth century, the corrido has dealt with “people’s stuff,” such as war, love, honor, immigration and/or belonging to a land, among other everyday life issues. The corrido is, in short, a symbol of identity and belonging, and can be considered a marker of the Mexican identity on both sides of the border. In this sense, it is to be expected that the corrido, as an expression of “people’s stuff,” voices the relevance of a “national” symbol. In the same way, tequila is regarded, at least internationally, as directly related to “lo mexicano/chicano,” and in many cases also to Mexican/Chicano masculinity. Starting from this premise, the aim of this article is to observe the presence of tequila and its significance as a symbol of “lo mexicano/chicano” in the work of Los Tigres del Norte, one of the most prominent corrido bands, both locally and internationally.

DAS URNAS ETRUSCAS PARA OS CORRIDOS MEXICANOS: a sobrevivência de uma fórmula

O presente artigo tem como objetivo analisar a trajetória do gesto contido em uma das gravuras do ”corrido” ”Aquá­ la Calavera está, Señores, de toditos los buenos valedores” (1900-1910), do gravador mexicano José Guadalupe Posada. No ato do esqueleto, que golpeia com sua foice um outro caá­do de joelhos, vemos a irrupção de uma força patética que já aparece na cultura material etrusca e sobrevive sorrateiramente até nossos dias. Diego Rivera considera Posada um genial e autêntico artista, com uma produção puramente mexicana, que serviu como uma forte figura para o seu esforço de construção de uma identidade mexicana pós-revolucionária. No entanto, por meio do exercá­cio dos conceitos warburguianos de ”Nachleben” e ”Pathosformeln”, notamos que a narrativa preparada por Rivera pode ser pensada através de uma perspectiva inatual, anacrônica, portanto, não-pura, percebendo assim as nuances da narrativa estabelecida pelo muralista.Palavras-chave: José Guadalupe Posada. Calavera. Nachleben. FROM THE ETRUSCAN URNS TO THE MEXICAN CORRIDOS: the survival of a formula Abstract: The present paper aims to analyze the trajectory of the gesture contained in one of the engravings of the ”corrido” ”Aquá­ la Calavera está, Señores, de toditos los buenos valedores” (1900-1910), of the Mexican engraver José Guadalupe Posada. In the act of the skeleton, which strikes with his sickle another one fallen on his knees, we see the irruption of a pathetic force that already appears in the Etruscan material culture and sneakily survives up to our days. Diego Rivera considers Posada a brilliant and authentic artist, with a purely Mexican production that served as a strong figure for his effort to build a post-revolutionary Mexican identity. However, through the exercise of the Warburguian concepts of "Nachleben" and "Pathosformeln", we note that the narrative prepared by Rivera can be thought through a non-current, anachronistic, and therefore, non-pure perspective, thus perceiving the nuances of the narrative established by the muralist.Keywords: José Guadalupe Posada. Calavera. Nachleben. DE LAS URNAS ETRUSCAS PARA LOS CORRIDOS MEXICANOS: la supervivencia de una fórmulaResumen: El presente artá­culo tiene como objetivo analizar la trayectoria del gesto contenido en una de las grabaciones del corrido ”Aquá­ la Calavera está, Señores, de toditos los buenos valedores” (1900-1910), del grabador mexicano José Guadalupe Posada. En el acto del esqueleto, que golpea con su hoz a otro caá­do de rodillas, vemos la irrupción de una fuerza patética que ya aparece en la cultura material etrusca y sobrevive sorpresivamente hasta nuestros dá­as. Diego Rivera considera Posada un genial y auténtico artista, con una producción puramente mexicana, que sirvió como una fuerte figura para su esfuerzo de construcción de una identidad mexicana post-revolucionaria. Sin embargo, a través del ejercicio de los conceptos warburguianos de ”Nachleben” y ”Pathosformeln”, notamos que la narrativa preparada por Rivera puede ser pensada a través de una perspectiva inatual, anacrónica, por lo tanto, no pura, que se percibe asá­ los matices de la narrativa establecida por el muralista.Palabras clave: José Guadalupe Posada. Calavera. Nachleben.

Del Moral, Enrique (1906--1987)

Born in Irapuato, Guanajuato, Mexican architect Enrique del Moral Domínguez (1906–1987) moved to Mexico City as a child. There, he studied architecture (1923–1928) in the National School of Beaux Arts with Juan O’Gorman and José Villagrán García, his teacher and mentor. Educated in the post-revolution years, he was interested in the construction of an architecture corresponding to Mexican identity–which had been in a continuous struggle between the new and the old–and building for the needs of the people.

Mestizo Modernity

Mexico’s traumatic Revolution (1910–1917) attested to stark divisions that had existed in the country for many years. Following the conflict, postrevolutionary leaders attempted to unify the country’s diverse (particularly indigenous) population under the umbrella of official mestizaje. Indigenous Mexicans would have to assimilate to the state by undergoing projects of “modernization” that entailed industrial growth through the imposition of a market-based economy. One of the most remarkable aspects of this nation-building project was the postrevolutionary government’s decision to use art to communicate discourses of official mestizaje. Until at least the 1970s, state-funded cultural artists whose work buoyed official discourses by positing mixed-race identity as a key component of an authentic Mexican identity. State officials viewed the hybridity of indigenous and female bodies with technology as paramount in their attempts to articulate a new national identity. As they fused the body with technology through medicine, education, industrial agriculture, and factory work, state officials believed that they could eradicate indigenous “primitivity” and transform Amerindians into full-fledged members of the nascent, mestizo state. This book discusses the work of José Vasconcelos, Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, Emilio “El Indio” Fernández, El Santo, and Carlos Olvera. These artists—and many others—held diametrically opposed worldviews and used very different media while producing works during different decades. Nevertheless, each of these artists posited the fusion of the body with technology as key to forming an “authentic” Mexican identity.

The Mexican Son , Past and Present

Among the many musical traditions of Mexico, the son is one of the most representative of the richness and diversity of Mexican culture. Son (or sones) is a generic term that describes both a complex of genres and the various regional subgenres that make up that complex. Son is a type of traditional music performed by small ensembles, with or without singing, and danced. It serves to entertain, but is also performed at celebratory occasions and festivals as well as in rituals. Although sones appear throughout Mexico marked by regional differences in both instrumentation and performance styles, they share common characteristics that define the genre as a whole, musically (i.e., their rhythmic, melodic, and harmonic structures), lyrically, and choreographically. Because of the particular cultural traits and sociocultural contexts that each son subgenre encompasses, it can be argued that regional sones are a powerful expression of Mexican regional musics, cultures, and social identities. Born as a hybrid genre out of the intermixing of European, American Indian, African, and Afro-Caribbean musical elements and contexts, Mexican sones have moved through time defined by many as a symbol of Mexican identity, even if the very concept of that “Mexican identity” has changed over time. What might be called the son’s “Golden Age” lasted from the 1890s until the middle of the 20th century. By the 1960s, sones were in serious decline all around Mexico: they had lost the favor of their audiences, old performers had passed away, and new generations did not engage with these musical traditions. Cultural politics contributed to selective processes through which some son subgenres faded away. Sociopolitical processes from the 1930s to the 1980s contributed to the re-contextualization of the Mexican son through modified versions of sones staged and broadcast in theatres, radio stations, and film productions. Post-revolutionary nationalism, the music industry, and folkloric ballets created these new versions and exercised an ideological control that both affected popular musical expressions and shaped musical tastes. Changes in urbanization and life conditions transformed social relationships and furthered this intense transformation. With fewer performance occasions and little support from either the government or private patrons, several regional son subgenres became thin and isolated, with minimal projection outside their regions. In the 1980s, some of the son subgenres underwent a renaissance owing to various private and official initiatives that infused new life to the music. This article provides an overview of the son, past and present, connecting the relevance of this musical style with the social history of the country.

The Gendering of the Cultural Revolution, 1919–1934

Chapter 2 analyzes the complex and often contradictory gendered positions of women artists associated with Mexico’s Communist Party during the first decades of the twentieth century. This chapter first examines the Mexican Communist Party’s official stance toward women from 1919 to the 1940s, and the changing global and national political framework in which the PCM operated. Next, this chapter highlights the artistic and political contributions of Tina Modotti, while recognizing her ambivalent position within postrevolutionary society. This chapter argues that even as state representatives grew increasingly concerned with Modotti’s communist leanings, Mexican officials nonetheless co-opted Modotti’s image in several ways. Not only did her photographs help to shape an “authentic” Mexican identity, but her very presence provided a cautionary morality tale to all women concerning the consequences of having “questionable” morals and even worse, of adhering to communist principles.