From Dust to Must - Four Mexican Potters Travel to the Pacific Northwest
  his May 4th-13th, Traditions Mexico turns things on their head. Instead of taking American travelers on the road to visit Mexican potters, we’ll be taking Mexican potters on the road to visit Americans. Eric Mindling will be traveling with four potters from Oaxaca and Jalisco visiting Portland, OR, Seattle WA. and Vancouver BC. The potters will be demonstrating their work in different venues and Eric will be giving presentations on Mexican pottery supported by slides and video.
 The potters come from three distinctive pottery villages. Macrina Mateo M. and Alberta Sanchez M. are indigenous Zapotec potters who create traditional slipware from San Marcos Tlapazola, Oaxaca. Angelica Vazquez C. sculpts legends and myths with the clay of her village of Atzompa, Oaxaca. And from Tonala, Jalisco, Angel Santos S. uses polychrome slips and burnish to create fabulous surface decorations. These villages have unique histories in clay and each of these potters has a special relationship with that history. They will share with us their techniques in clay as well as stories about their work and ways. For more details on the potters click here.
If you can make it to any of these events, we’d love to see you. If you have any questions write Eric at traditionsmexico@yahoo.com.
Event Schedule
May 4-6th, Portland, Oregon. This event is largely underwritten by the Oregon Potters’ Association ( link to http://www.oregonpotters.org/ )and the core of our visit will revolve around the potters’ participation in the Ceramic Showcase at the Portland Convention Center May 4-6 where we can be found daily making pots and speaking Spanish.
May 9th, Vancouver, Canada. We take the show on the road and these potters from a dusty land travel deep into the musty Pacific Northwest. May 9th we will be offering a workshop and presentation on the different techniques and histories of the potters at the Emily Carr College of Art and Design. Click here for details.
May 11th and 12th. Seattle Washington. Assuming we can get back into the US from Canada we will be presenting a workshop at Pottery Northwest. The event is Friday, May 11 at 6 pm for Mexican dinner and reception and continues Saturday, May 12 10 am -2 pm with Artists' showcase and demonstrations. For details click here.
May 13th, Portland Or. From 1-4pm we will appear at the Portland Art Museum's event for families: "Museum Family Sunday: Viva el Festival!" This special event will feature Latin American art, craft, food, and music, and will include demonstrations and hands-on art making. OPA members will have clay disks for kids and families to decorate. The Mexican potters will demonstrate their unique style of clay and tell stories.
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Tales From Down a Dusty Road - in which we share with you a genuine anecdote of thrills and adventure in the Mexican backcactus.
In Search of the Velvet Huipil, or Meeting Natalia
Eric Mindling
he huipiles, or blouses, worn by the Zapotec women in the Isthmus of Tehuantepec are legendary in Mexico. The most elegant, the ones worn during the week-long block parties celebrating sacred times, at weddings, funerals or when you really want to look sharp, are made of velvet tightly embroidered in rich colours with flowers, leaves and vines. At the height of the event the huipil is combined with a full length, heavy skirt of matching velvet and embroidery trimmed at the hem with a broad band of lace. The women who wear these are the strong, assertive and robust Zapotecs of the hot, tropical lowlands of Oaxaca where all the palms lean south because of the persistent spring zephyrs, and muscled Brahman cattle graze in the flats between the spine thickets and cornfields. To see these women gathered at a fiesta is something like being lost in a field of multicoloured sunflowers with gold-rimmed teeth and sweaty brows that boil with raucous laughter. There is an aura of pride and even arrogance as the women sway through the crowd, neck held straight and solid back draped with long, dark ribboned braids of hair. Like many others before and after her, Frida Kahlo, a famous Mexican artist, was inspired by these women and their dress and adopted the Tehuana look as her own. It is no wonder that there is Legend here and that the Tehuana huipil, so glorious, has come to symbolize it.
I wanted to find out where those huipiles where made because I was creating an expedition along the Oaxacan coast that was to look at all the great textile traditions along its vast stretches. And such a journey would not be complete without visiting the place where the Tehuana Huipil was made.
So it was that I headed down to the Isthmus one day to see what I could learn. Going to the Isthmus from the Oaxacan highlands where I live is effectively like going to another country. One travel’s for hours through rumpled mountains before coming out in the Isthmus flats and the cultural lands of the Isthmus Zapotecs. I have never found doors to open easily in the Isthmus, the people seem to hold a distance from outsiders. Perhaps this is because this region has forever been a crossroads. Ages ago it was on the major trade route between the central highland empires of Mesoamerica and the Yucatan Mayan, and later it was an important crossing point for Easterners from the US going West in the 1800’s. Maybe this has created a reserve, a cultural protection. Whatever the case, at least initially folks here can be iron faced and tough.
I started my search on the second floor of the town market in Tehuantepec. Up near the tin roof, frying under the tropical sun of this visual maze of a market, are the stalls that sell the regalia worn by the women. One finds everything from the simple cotton huipiles with chain stitch designs and long flowing skirts, to the luxurious embroidered velvet and piel de angeles (angel’s skin) satin pieces. I knew that they did not make the clothing here, but it was a starting point. I also knew that the women who sell the huipiles in the market weren’t going to hand me a map of where they come from. But I did manage to get them to say that few people made them in Tehuantepec and I’d find more in San Blas Atempa.
It had to be San Blas. San Blas is a town attached to Tehuantepec. One ends and the other begins and you don’t notice when it happened. But I’ve heard many stories about San Blas, about how especially tough the people are, tolerating little nonsense and not being shy about taking the law into their own hands. One notorious story tells of the townspeople storming the police station and dragging out a prisoner, who was accused of robbing and killing the town’s beloved doctor. The villagers applied vigilante justice to him, the details of which are rather gory. Rumours grow like August zucchinis in rural Mexico and all the San Blas talk may just be wide ripples caused by a small pebble. Or maybe the market women were sending me there to get rid of my pestering questions once and for all.
I wound my way down the narrow roads peeking my van gingerly around the blind bends so as not to meet the bumper of an oncoming dump truck or run one of the abundant rickshaw motor carts into the wall. Then I was in downtown San Blas, evident by the church and municipal building. I stopped and took a look to size the town up. What I saw were folks going about their business, women with braids in long skirts and, among other things, Coca-Cola for sale at the corner store.
It looked survivable. I got out of the car and ventured into San Blas.
It was my fortune to almost immediately meet a nine-fingered carpenter who knew the lay of the land. He told me that women here and there in San Blas embroidered the huipiles. But if I was serious about seeing them made then I needed to go to Santa Rosa were everyone made them. He explained how to get there, as he would have explained it to anyone from San Blas- go past the Church of Asuncion, make a right at the middle school and then straight at the big water pump. Of course I knew where none of these landmarks were, but worked my way through the back streets of San Blas like a child on a treasure hunt with a church, middle school and big pump as clues. At the end of the rainbow, according to the one-thumbed carpenter, were velvet and roses.
As for the tales of the uppity San Blasers, well all I can say is that if you don’t kill the doctor, I think you’ll be fine. I travelled all over town looking for my clues and am here to tell the tale!
A long, straight, dusty dirt road through the coconut orchards brought me to the little town of Santa Rosa. The village was comprised of a small criss-crossing of dirt streets lined with low concrete and adobe houses roofed with clay tiles, tin or palm thatch. It was evident as I pulled into the village that there probably hadn’t been a foreign traveler here in quite a long time. People were giving me the big eye, poking their heads out of windows or coming to the doorways to see who this tall, pale man was who had arrived in their town.
When you come into an insulated little rural village where you want to learn about what’s going on and you know absolutely nobody it can be a trick to open doors. My classic strategy is to stop for a soda at some little store and get a conversation going, letting folks’ curiosity about who I am and what I’m doing be the door opener for my curiosity about who they are and what they’re doing. And in those cases where they couldn’t give a hoot about what I’m doing, and the conversation goes nowhere, well at least I’ve bought a soda from the shopkeeper who is usually then good for pointing me in the right direction.
That was my plan in Santa Rosa, but as I eased my dusty van down the street trying to decide where I would stop for a soda and subject myself to the serious scrutiny that I could see this town was ready to offer, I passed four large Zapotec women in long dresses standing around a little fruit stand. I leaned out the window and by way of starting conversation asked if this was Santa Rosa and if they embroidered huipiles here. One of the robust women, with a small face and big arms, stepped right up and said yes and wondered why I wanted to know. I told her I was interested in seeing who made the huipiles and she said, “all right, I’ll show you” and hefted herself into the passenger seat of the van. This was Natalia Medina.
It is an extremely unusual thing for an unaccompanied woman in rural Mexico to climb into the van of a complete stranger. But Natalia didn’t seem to care a lick. Just the same, the other three women had their say about Natalia climbing into the van and immediately the air crackled with the kind of laughing that happens when there’s teasing going on. Whatever it was, Natalia appeared to lay it back on them and had her own laugh. I can only surmise because it was all in Zapotec, but no doubt it had to do with a tall gringo in a van. Natalia pointed down the street toward the first house where they embroidered huipiles and off we went
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Natalia (on the right) with an embroiderer |
Well, the nine-thumbed carpenter was right, Santa Rosa was the place to find huipiles. Natalia took me all over the village that day. We walked into houses with walls of palm, into houses of brick with bread ovens in the back, through houses of concrete with front room cantinas, and everywhere there were women seated around rectangular embroidery frames stretched with velvet or satin, plucking away with carefully selected colours to create floral masterpieces of thread. They worked under the shade of yard trees or under the porch roof. There were usually two or three women seated together working before their individual frames and in some cases, when it was a rush order, two or three women working on one frame. There were even men at work embroidering in a couple of households, which is a rare sight in rural Mexico, where fiber work is generally woman’s work. Natalia told me that in the evenings, when the sun cooled, everyone pulled their frame tables out onto the streets and set to work by their front door, visiting with neighbours and seeing who was doing what. We went to the house of the pattern sketcher, a young woman with a piece of chalk who, with infallible precision, freehanded all the flowers and vines patterns on the velvet and satin cloth the villagers brought her.
As we walked up and down the streets there was no shortage of commentary directed at Natalia. Again in Zapotec so I don’t know what the words were, but based on the tone and the throaty laughing I assume it was something about Natalia and her new tall man. Natalia appeared to dish it right back, she was certainly undaunted. I tried to get her to tell me what it was all about and she said it was because people here were suspicious of outsiders. Indeed, she said, if she wasn’t with me no one would let me in to see their work. She said the women were saying, “aren’t you afraid to be walking with that big stranger Natalia Medina?”
I asked her why she wasn’t and she said, as she paced along with her big arms swinging beside her long dress, “ I could see by looking at you that you were no trouble.”
I smiled inside thinking that she could perceive the goodness of my soul, but then I had to pause as I wondered if what she actually meant was that she knew she could knock me down without wrinkling her ribbons if I meant to cause any mischief. Which I’m sure she could have.
As a postscript I’ll note that I have now visited Santa Rosa twice taking groups of textile enthusiasts. Natalia has proudly marched us through town taking us from house to house where we all ooed and awed over the beautiful work, and not a few people put their money where their mouths were and walked away with lovely huipiles. All the while Natalia’s prestige rose in the village because she was bringing around buyers who were letting the money flow. As we all marched through town, in our own exotic regalia with names like Eddie Bauer and Levi’s embroidered into it, people came out to see us pass and the whole little elementary school came running to the fence to watch and giggle. It was more exciting, I think, than the Easter Day procession. And Natalia laughed as she told me the people were asking her, “Where did you meet so many gringos, Natalia Medina?”
Anecdotes From Our Travelers (Call for Articles)
Hundreds of travelers have survived our journeys and lived to tell about it. If you are one of those folks, this section is for you. We’d love to hear your anecdotes, tales and observations about your trip with Traditions Mexico or ways that your experiences have touched your life back home. Article shouldn’t be longer than 800 words and you may include a couple of pictures that show you or other trip participants interacting with backcactus Mexico. Send submissions to the editor at traditionsmexico@yahoo.com.
(PS, the editor doesn’t actually edit, as you may already know from reading this website, so be sure you check for typos).
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s early seasonal rains begin to fall and cool the earth, Oaxaca state has been peaceful for months. In a dust devil of activity, the Traditions Mexico corporate office (a small adobe building standing alone in a field, guarded by an old horse who stands on the shady side) has created the Winter 2007/08 trip schedule, available for your eyes only in this newsletter. We’ve got a few other projects brewing as well that you ought to check out.
Indeed we have! And the stars of our movies are the same people who star in our tours and workshops. In partnership with Twisp River Films, we have begun filming a series of videos that will profile different traditional potters and weavers throughout Mexico. Our first DVD, San Marcos, Revolution in Clay, to be released at an exact date this summer (we just don’t know the exact date yet) profiles an important family of Zapotec potters in San Marcos Tlapazola. We follow the potters through their potting process, from digging clay to firing, as well as learn from them about how their market-based pottery sales began to plummet in the late 80’s because of the influx of plastic and tin goods, and what they’ve done about it.