Masks have held a significant place in Mexican art for centuries, evolving from the war masks of Aztec warriors, fashioned from jaguar and eagle elements, to their prominent roles in contemporary celebrations like Día de Los Muertos and the spectacle of Lucha Libre. The mask serves as a powerful tool, capable of embodying a new persona or concealing one's true self. For queer Mexican American artist Joel Hernandez, masks offer a way to explore the hidden aspects of our identities. "We are all wearing masks all the time," Hernandez stated. "Growing up, I had to wear several masks, whether it was trying to act more Mexican or American, or even having to hide the fact that I was gay. I had to put on different faces depending on the situation."
Hernandez's artistic journey began in the vibrant environment of his childhood in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico, where he was surrounded by colorful piñatas and the dynamic attire of folkloric dancers. After his family immigrated to the United States, art became his primary mode of communication, helping him navigate the culture shock of a new environment. "Photography allowed me to manipulate reality," Hernandez explained. "Through the process of layering negatives on top of each other, I was trying to create my own reality. It was a way to control what was happening around me since I was struggling to navigate the culture shock of living in a new place."
Through his photography, Hernandez expanded his artistic practice to include styling clothing and painting backdrops for his subjects. For a portrait of his mother, he aimed to capture an intimate moment of everyday life. "I love being able to say something without having to say it," Hernandez shared. "I want to capture various emotions through my art, whether it's anger or feelings of nostalgia."
The transition from photography to the three-dimensional art of papier-mâché marked a natural progression for Hernandez. He describes his current medium as another avenue for expressing the emotions and feelings that permeate his work. "Through my work, I hope that someone that grew up with a similar upbringing can relate and bring out those feelings that I’m trying to invoke in them," Hernandez expressed.
The Evolution of Mexican Mask Art
Mexican mask-folk art encompasses the creation and use of masks for various traditional dances and ceremonies within Mexico. The practice of mask-making in the region dates back thousands of years, having been an integral part of ritual life in the pre-Hispanic territories that now constitute Mexico, long before the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire. During the early colonial period, evangelists cleverly utilized native customs of dance and mask to impart the Catholic faith. However, colonial authorities later attempted, unsuccessfully, to ban both practices. Following Mexican Independence, mask and dance traditions underwent a process of syncretism, and mask traditions have continued to evolve into new forms, reflecting Mexico's history and emerging popular culture, such as lucha libre.
Materials and Techniques
Traditionally, most masks are crafted from wood, though some are made from leather, wax, cardboard, papier-mâché, or other materials. The use of masks and costumes was a crucial element of Mesoamerican cultures well before the arrival of the Spanish. Some ancient masks made of stone or fired clay have survived to the present day. However, the majority were constructed from perishable materials like wood, amate paper, cloth, and feathers. Little is known about masks from the colonial era, but it is believed that some originated from the same workshops that produced saint images, featuring sophisticated and lifelike depictions of faces. Others were likely created by individuals who rented costumes to performers.
Despite early prohibitions, masked celebrations persisted until Independence, when Mexican Inquisition laws were fully repealed. After the Mexican Revolution, there was a renewed appreciation for various aspects of traditional Mexican life, including traditional and rural handicrafts. Today, masked festivals and dances are most prevalent in regions of Mexico with significant indigenous populations. Highly detailed masks, still crafted by artisans who make religious images, can be found in the states of Tlaxcala, Puebla, Oaxaca, Chiapas, and Michoacán. However, in most areas, masks are produced by less specialized craftsmen.
Contemporary Manifestations and Popular Culture
Past history and customs endure in traditional dances. Currently, the primary use of masks is associated with celebrations and rituals, although modern imagery and new variations have become integrated into contemporary popular culture. Traditional masks have been carved with likenesses of figures such as Pedro Infante and Cantinflas. The influence of Halloween from the United States has led to the emergence of commercially produced masks for the days surrounding Day of the Dead. Masked characters also appear in comics, television, and movies, including El Chapulín Colorado and Karmatron. However, the most significant uses of masks in Mexican popular culture are linked to lucha libre, or professional wrestling.
In lucha libre, the mask is emblematic of the wrestler's professional identity. It is typically made of fabric, covering the head and face, with plastic reinforcement around the eyes and mouth. Each wrestler's design is unique, and they strive to protect this identity. Several of these masks have been passed down through generations, such as those of El Santo, Blue Demon, Los Hermanos Dinamita, Tinieblas, and Dos Caras. In a specific type of bout known as "lucha de apuestos," the loser is compelled to remove their mask, revealing their true face.
The Artistic Process and Personal Expression
Hernandez begins each artwork with an emotion or feeling. As an observer, he absorbs his surroundings, drawing inspiration from overheard conversations or evocative music. "Music is definitely a big influence in my work," Hernandez noted. "Listening to some of my mother’s favorite ranchera music is like therapy. Sometimes a song can trigger a specific emotion within me, and I feel the need to get it out. That’s when I start creating."
He then proceeds to mold the clay, a stage he finds most challenging as the final outcome is not yet fully defined. "When I’m sculpting, I like to treat it as a journal," Hernandez explained. "When I get in there, I can lose myself in my train of thought. Like a journal, you know how it’s going to start but you don’t necessarily know how it’s going to end."
Exploring Identity and the Immigrant Experience
Hernandez's artistic exploration is deeply influenced by his experiences as an immigrant and his journey of self-discovery. He reflects on the pursuit of the American dream, noting the irony of its presentation as a fantasyland where dreams come true, often masking the reality of the immigrant labor that makes such dreams possible. "Many tend to see Mexicans as work animals, but we are people, there is a person and story underneath that mask," Hernandez asserted.
Growing up as an immigrant, learning a new language, and coming to terms with his sexuality, Hernandez learned to conceal his internal struggles behind a mask. This experience instilled in him a fascination with the ability of masks to portray multiple expressions, to be worn and then easily removed. Whether expressing sadness or happiness, Hernandez aims for his art to offer viewers the possibility to connect with and embrace those feelings. He admits to keeping some of his artwork because it evokes specific emotions in him. "They’re reminders of our humanity," Hernandez said. "The masks are a way of unburdening myself, as if I’m taking it off my own body."
For his Día de Los Muertos-inspired skulls, Hernandez reinterprets the traditional Mexican mask to reflect his atheism, a departure from his traditionally Catholic upbringing where he feared his sexuality would prevent him from reaching heaven.
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The Complexity of Modern Masks
One of Hernandez's recent works addresses the COVID-19 pandemic, incorporating fragments of news clippings and headlines to highlight the prevalence of misinformation during that period. A depiction of an angel and a devil wearing each other's masks serves as a stark commentary on the duality of conflicting information.
As his work continues to evolve, Hernandez's projects have become larger in scale. While he began by creating small masks, he now produces larger pieces to convey the depth of his artistic message. "There’s people that tell me that my work has helped them through some tough times," Hernandez shared. "It’s not easy trying to figure out who you are, especially when you have a lot of things on top of it: gay, immigrant, new to a city, in love or heartbroken-so many things out there that I hope people feel connected with my work."
"Not everyone has a community," Hernandez added. "I felt like I didn’t have a community for a long time, but I’m slowly learning how to find that community here. I hope with my work people feel like there’s a community out there for them."
Historical Significance of Mexican Clay
Clay has been a prized material in Mexico for millennia, integral to both artistic expression and daily life. The city of Tonalá, located near Guadalajara, is renowned for its rich clay deposits, giving the area a distinctive scent of "pura tierra mojada," or pure wet dirt. This tradition of ceramic artistry has been passed down through generations, with artists like Fernando Jimón Melchor continuing the legacy of his ancestors.
The process of creating ceramics is deeply elemental, involving the extraction of earth, mixing it with water, shaping it, and firing it. The clay from Tonalá possesses unique properties, including porosity, which allows for exceptionally smooth finishes without the need for glaze or lacquer, a technique known as "bruñido" or burnishing. Touching these ceramics is considered an emotional experience, with the cool, smooth texture offering a sense of calm and nobility.
The Búcaros: A Historical Connection
Among the significant clay artifacts from Mexico are the "búcaros," a type of clay vessel. The Metropolitan Museum of Art houses two such búcaros, believed to have been crafted in Tonalá in the late 1600s. These tall, ornate jars, made from incredibly thin and smooth clay, embarked on a remarkable journey across the Atlantic. They were prized by wealthy European women not only for their aesthetic beauty but also for perceived medicinal qualities, including use as humidifiers and even as an ingestible remedy for complexion and birth control.
The búcaros represent a fascinating intersection of cultures, reflecting the Spanish colonization of Mexico and the subsequent trade routes. The combination of indigenous ceramic techniques with European technologies, such as the kiln and pottery wheel, led to the production of these export-quality vessels. The journey of a búcaro involved meticulous collection, purification of the clay (often by foot), forming, firing, and then transportation across vast distances, highlighting the dedication and craft involved.
The historical significance of Tonalá clay extends beyond its use in búcaros. It has been a fundamental material for various ceramic traditions, from figurines and vessels to decorative plates and animal masks. The tactile and aromatic qualities of Tonalá pottery, particularly the scent of wet clay, evoke a deep connection to the land and its history, serving as a therapeutic and grounding experience for both the artist and the viewer.
