Huffington Post Review:    03/25/2016 09:17 am ET Updated Mar 25, 2016   These Prints Made By Mexican Women Artists Are Hauntingly Beautiful   Although they explore different realms — politics, domesticity, identity, race and gender — the women are all united by their medium.  By Maddie Crum  In a print created by artist Edith Chávez, a girl stands in a floral dress, surrounded by petals and feathers. At first glance, the image is a dainty portrait of girlhood, rendered in warm pink and soft grey. But, the girl’s expression is mournful. And, on closer look, you notice the cause for her concern: she’s holding a plate of severed chicken heads.  It’s a jarring realization that throws the pains of domestic duties into relief. Womanhood and the traditional tasks attached to it aren’t all rosy, Chávez says through her work. They can also be gritty, and anxiety-making.  Chávez is one artist highlighted in an exhibit of women printmakers from Mexico on display at the Highpoint Center for Printmaking, titled “Sus Voces“ and curated by Maria Cristina Tavera. Like the others in the collection, she focuses directly on themes of femininity in her work, and currently lives or works in Mexico.  Although they explore different realms — politics, domesticity, identity, race and gender — the women are all united by their medium. They each use lithography or primary relief to make their etched-like, earthy-looking prints.  Contrasting Chávez’s work are the prints of Daniela Ramirez whose themes are more fantastical than gritty. A human with a winged creature for a head depicts a convergence of the man-made world and the natural world. Adding another aesthetic altogether to the collection, Diana Morales Galicia’s abstract, chaotic prints generate a feeling of unease.  See Chávez’s geometric prints, along with other works by women from Mexico:

Huffington Post Review:

03/25/2016 09:17 am ET Updated Mar 25, 2016

These Prints Made By Mexican Women Artists Are Hauntingly Beautiful

Although they explore different realms — politics, domesticity, identity, race and gender — the women are all united by their medium.

By Maddie Crum

In a print created by artist Edith Chávez, a girl stands in a floral dress, surrounded by petals and feathers. At first glance, the image is a dainty portrait of girlhood, rendered in warm pink and soft grey. But, the girl’s expression is mournful. And, on closer look, you notice the cause for her concern: she’s holding a plate of severed chicken heads.

It’s a jarring realization that throws the pains of domestic duties into relief. Womanhood and the traditional tasks attached to it aren’t all rosy, Chávez says through her work. They can also be gritty, and anxiety-making.

Chávez is one artist highlighted in an exhibit of women printmakers from Mexico on display at the Highpoint Center for Printmaking, titled “Sus Voces“ and curated by Maria Cristina Tavera. Like the others in the collection, she focuses directly on themes of femininity in her work, and currently lives or works in Mexico.

Although they explore different realms — politics, domesticity, identity, race and gender — the women are all united by their medium. They each use lithography or primary relief to make their etched-like, earthy-looking prints.

Contrasting Chávez’s work are the prints of Daniela Ramirez whose themes are more fantastical than gritty. A human with a winged creature for a head depicts a convergence of the man-made world and the natural world. Adding another aesthetic altogether to the collection, Diana Morales Galicia’s abstract, chaotic prints generate a feeling of unease.

See Chávez’s geometric prints, along with other works by women from Mexico:

   Hyperallergic Review:    ART   Nine Mexican Women Fight Stereotypes in Their Printmaking   Sheila ReganMarch 14, 2016  MINNEAPOLIS — Animals populate the prints on view at Sus Voces, a group exhibition curated by Maria Cristina Tavera at Highpoint Center for Printmaking, featuring nine female Mexican printmakers working in traditional techniques. Animals are used as metaphors for the female body, as elements of fantasy, as spiritual evocation, and as emblems of fear. It’s a show that flirts with female and Mexican stereotypes and tosses them upside down, that breathes political expression in a whisper, and draws the viewer into a growing discontent among women artists living in a violent world.  A number of the artists in Sus Voces, a part of the Guerrilla Girls Twin Cities Takeover, pair bodies of animals and women together. For instance, in Diana Morales Galicia’s terrifying woodcuts, the artist depicts twisting, suffocating cages for dogs and humans alike. Daniela Ramirez, meanwhile, takes a more whimsical approach to anthropomorphism, with her fanciful scenes: a bird-headed lady chats with another bare-breasted woman with a nest for a neck and a gramophone for a head. In another, a female figure with a long-nosed animal head stands in a geometrically constructed floral pool, a tree growing from a floating canoe in the distance, as a science-fiction-looking object hovers above her hand.  There’s a startling contrast between Morales Galicia’s animals, which are used as a metaphor for human trafficking victims, and Ramirez’s animals that give wisdom and spiritual power to her female figures. Where for one artist the animals signify the very worst a life’s condition can be, where for another, they offer a social power that perhaps women are more apt at channeling.  Adriana Calatayud Morán offers a nod to Frida Kahlo with her series of offset lithography titled Animalario. The pieces juxtapose black-and-white images of animals with organs, muscles, skeletons, and teeth that might have come out of a textbook. Where Kahlo painted human body parts as a way to show her physical and emotional pain, Calatayud Morán gives the same treatment to a moose, a giraffe, and a bear. We see the tiger’s humanness not through anthropomorphism, but by a merging of human and animal bodies.  Edith Chávez’s animals, like Ramirez’s, take on a spiritual element, hovering around her self-portraits like benevolent gods. But the creatures will also soon be eaten: Her subjects in “Crisantemo” and “Altea” hold animal heads as if presenting them for a first course. In “Rosa espina,” oversized chickens dreamily hang behind the figure, ready for a day of feast preparation.  Highpoint Printmaking Exhibit Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico 160219a0042.NEF  Installation view of ‘Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico’ at Highpoint Printmaking, Minneapolis (click to enlarge)  Chávez plays with the pastoral, idyllic stereotype of women cooking in the kitchen. Then she adds an element of absurdity to break up that imagery with monstrous animal depictions, like a hat made of chickens. The animals are used to poke fun at the notion of a bucolic nurturer and caretaker.  There’s a sensuality to Chávez’s figures. They seem to be dancing to music only they can hear. In “Ejambre,” the woman gently touches her neck and shoulder with her fingers. The women exude a sensuality, not for the gazer’s benefit but for the subject’s own secret pleasure. Whatever it is they are thinking about, they don’t offer a hint of it.  Highpoint Printmaking Exhibit Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico 160219a0252.NEF  Installation view of ‘Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico’ at Highpoint Printmaking, Minneapolis (click to enlarge)  América Rodriguez’s portraits, meanwhile, exclude the body, with only the women’s faces taking focus. Stark and filled with sadness, the women look listlessly before them, or lower their eyelids in a morose pose. They also disappear into the background, with the artist’s textures and patterns engulfing their faces. “We are forgotten,” they seem to say. “We are disappearing.”  Mercedes López Calvo’s prints also invoke the disappeared, in content if not in form. In the most politically fueled series of the show, López Calvo depicts harrowing scenes of torture and murder. Her “Circulo de Sombras” (Circle of Shadows), shows a circle of figures laying on the ground, their hands on their heads, surrounding a pit, with one figure standing above them as if ready to fling them inside. While the artist created the work in 2012, it recalls the 43 students from Iguala, who went missing in 2014. Indeed, in the city of Juarez, Mexico, hundreds of women were murdered in the 1990s, and another wave of disappearances occurred in 2009 and 2010. “Fosa Común” (Common Pit), made in 2009, features three bodies, their shirts covering their faces and hands tied behind their backs, as if thrown into a grave after an execution. The work reflects on a history of corrupt regimes and devaluation of human life.  In a show where women use the penetrating language of prints to describe their experience as Mexican women, López Calvo makes a direct hit, an emotional cry of terror in today’s world.  Mercedes López Calvo, “Circulo de Sombras” (2012) (photo by the author for Hyperallergic)  Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico is part of the Guerrilla Girls Twin Cities Takeover and continues at Highpoint Center for Printmaking (912 W Lake St, Minneapolis) through March 26.

Hyperallergic Review:

ART

Nine Mexican Women Fight Stereotypes in Their Printmaking

Sheila ReganMarch 14, 2016

MINNEAPOLIS — Animals populate the prints on view at Sus Voces, a group exhibition curated by Maria Cristina Tavera at Highpoint Center for Printmaking, featuring nine female Mexican printmakers working in traditional techniques. Animals are used as metaphors for the female body, as elements of fantasy, as spiritual evocation, and as emblems of fear. It’s a show that flirts with female and Mexican stereotypes and tosses them upside down, that breathes political expression in a whisper, and draws the viewer into a growing discontent among women artists living in a violent world.

A number of the artists in Sus Voces, a part of the Guerrilla Girls Twin Cities Takeover, pair bodies of animals and women together. For instance, in Diana Morales Galicia’s terrifying woodcuts, the artist depicts twisting, suffocating cages for dogs and humans alike. Daniela Ramirez, meanwhile, takes a more whimsical approach to anthropomorphism, with her fanciful scenes: a bird-headed lady chats with another bare-breasted woman with a nest for a neck and a gramophone for a head. In another, a female figure with a long-nosed animal head stands in a geometrically constructed floral pool, a tree growing from a floating canoe in the distance, as a science-fiction-looking object hovers above her hand.

There’s a startling contrast between Morales Galicia’s animals, which are used as a metaphor for human trafficking victims, and Ramirez’s animals that give wisdom and spiritual power to her female figures. Where for one artist the animals signify the very worst a life’s condition can be, where for another, they offer a social power that perhaps women are more apt at channeling.

Adriana Calatayud Morán offers a nod to Frida Kahlo with her series of offset lithography titled Animalario. The pieces juxtapose black-and-white images of animals with organs, muscles, skeletons, and teeth that might have come out of a textbook. Where Kahlo painted human body parts as a way to show her physical and emotional pain, Calatayud Morán gives the same treatment to a moose, a giraffe, and a bear. We see the tiger’s humanness not through anthropomorphism, but by a merging of human and animal bodies.

Edith Chávez’s animals, like Ramirez’s, take on a spiritual element, hovering around her self-portraits like benevolent gods. But the creatures will also soon be eaten: Her subjects in “Crisantemo” and “Altea” hold animal heads as if presenting them for a first course. In “Rosa espina,” oversized chickens dreamily hang behind the figure, ready for a day of feast preparation.

Highpoint Printmaking Exhibit Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico 160219a0042.NEF

Installation view of ‘Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico’ at Highpoint Printmaking, Minneapolis (click to enlarge)

Chávez plays with the pastoral, idyllic stereotype of women cooking in the kitchen. Then she adds an element of absurdity to break up that imagery with monstrous animal depictions, like a hat made of chickens. The animals are used to poke fun at the notion of a bucolic nurturer and caretaker.

There’s a sensuality to Chávez’s figures. They seem to be dancing to music only they can hear. In “Ejambre,” the woman gently touches her neck and shoulder with her fingers. The women exude a sensuality, not for the gazer’s benefit but for the subject’s own secret pleasure. Whatever it is they are thinking about, they don’t offer a hint of it.

Highpoint Printmaking Exhibit Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico 160219a0252.NEF

Installation view of ‘Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico’ at Highpoint Printmaking, Minneapolis (click to enlarge)

América Rodriguez’s portraits, meanwhile, exclude the body, with only the women’s faces taking focus. Stark and filled with sadness, the women look listlessly before them, or lower their eyelids in a morose pose. They also disappear into the background, with the artist’s textures and patterns engulfing their faces. “We are forgotten,” they seem to say. “We are disappearing.”

Mercedes López Calvo’s prints also invoke the disappeared, in content if not in form. In the most politically fueled series of the show, López Calvo depicts harrowing scenes of torture and murder. Her “Circulo de Sombras” (Circle of Shadows), shows a circle of figures laying on the ground, their hands on their heads, surrounding a pit, with one figure standing above them as if ready to fling them inside. While the artist created the work in 2012, it recalls the 43 students from Iguala, who went missing in 2014. Indeed, in the city of Juarez, Mexico, hundreds of women were murdered in the 1990s, and another wave of disappearances occurred in 2009 and 2010. “Fosa Común” (Common Pit), made in 2009, features three bodies, their shirts covering their faces and hands tied behind their backs, as if thrown into a grave after an execution. The work reflects on a history of corrupt regimes and devaluation of human life.

In a show where women use the penetrating language of prints to describe their experience as Mexican women, López Calvo makes a direct hit, an emotional cry of terror in today’s world.

Mercedes López Calvo, “Circulo de Sombras” (2012) (photo by the author for Hyperallergic)

Sus Voces: Women Printmakers from Mexico is part of the Guerrilla Girls Twin Cities Takeover and continues at Highpoint Center for Printmaking (912 W Lake St, Minneapolis) through March 26.

ff201a-20160229-susvoices01.jpg

MPR: Prints from Mexico shine light on disenfranchised artists

Marianne Combs · Mar 2, 2016

To listen to MPR recording click here

  AMERICAN ART IT’S COMPLICATED     Minnesota Museum of American Art    Seitu Jones, Oskar Ly, Maria Cristina Tavera, and Dyani White Hawk Polk were invited to join Minnesota Museum of American Art Executive Director Kristin Makholm to curate an exhibition that considers the complex question of, “what is American art?” American Art: It’s Complicated will present over 30 works from the MMAA’s collection, national galleries, and local public and private collections that question the definition of “American art” as related to nationality, identity, and geography.  Each curator approached the exhibition with their own refined set of optics. They thought carefully about the complexities of American art as they see them, then selected works that provide creative form for some of these ideas.  Seitu Jones will present a capsule show of work on loan from the Minnesota Historical Society by sculptor Maurice Carlton. Carlton was known for rummaging through the trashcans and dumpsters of the old Rondo neighborhood looking for found objects to transform into work that served as political commentary and African diaspora. The works selected by Maria Cristina Tavera call into question two assumptions: first, that “American” is limited to a landmass of united peoples; and second, that artists form collective national identities. Kristin Makholm’s lens on the subject can be viewed through works from the MMAA’s permanent collection. Her selections open up cracks in the concept of who belongs and by whose hands, eyes, and minds those ideas of inclusion are manifest.  While Jones, Tavera, and Makholm took a critical approach to the question, the remaining curators approached the questions more abstractly. Works selected by Oskar Ly are an invitation for audiences to engage in discussion around the long-standing social exchanges that live beyond the walls of a gallery in distinct communities and collective experiences. Dyani White Hawk Polk’s selections promote dialogue about the innumerable possibilities of what could represent “American art." She hopes that every person that visits this exhibition feels the same weight of impossibility in presenting an exhibition that represents every facet of the American experience, including the artistic expressions that result from these experiences.

AMERICAN ART IT’S COMPLICATED

Minnesota Museum of American Art

Seitu Jones, Oskar Ly, Maria Cristina Tavera, and Dyani White Hawk Polk were invited to join Minnesota Museum of American Art Executive Director Kristin Makholm to curate an exhibition that considers the complex question of, “what is American art?” American Art: It’s Complicated will present over 30 works from the MMAA’s collection, national galleries, and local public and private collections that question the definition of “American art” as related to nationality, identity, and geography.

Each curator approached the exhibition with their own refined set of optics. They thought carefully about the complexities of American art as they see them, then selected works that provide creative form for some of these ideas.

Seitu Jones will present a capsule show of work on loan from the Minnesota Historical Society by sculptor Maurice Carlton. Carlton was known for rummaging through the trashcans and dumpsters of the old Rondo neighborhood looking for found objects to transform into work that served as political commentary and African diaspora. The works selected by Maria Cristina Tavera call into question two assumptions: first, that “American” is limited to a landmass of united peoples; and second, that artists form collective national identities. Kristin Makholm’s lens on the subject can be viewed through works from the MMAA’s permanent collection. Her selections open up cracks in the concept of who belongs and by whose hands, eyes, and minds those ideas of inclusion are manifest.

While Jones, Tavera, and Makholm took a critical approach to the question, the remaining curators approached the questions more abstractly. Works selected by Oskar Ly are an invitation for audiences to engage in discussion around the long-standing social exchanges that live beyond the walls of a gallery in distinct communities and collective experiences. Dyani White Hawk Polk’s selections promote dialogue about the innumerable possibilities of what could represent “American art." She hopes that every person that visits this exhibition feels the same weight of impossibility in presenting an exhibition that represents every facet of the American experience, including the artistic expressions that result from these experiences.

juxtapose Mexican Pulp Drunk.JPG

Juxtapoz click for full review

“Pulp Drunk: Mexican Pulp Art” reintroduces this art form to public as a brilliant and often overlooked pop-culture revelation. This exhibition is a celebration of the art that graced the covers of the paperbacks released south of the US border yet also serves as a visual observation of the fundamentals of Mexican attitudes towards art and consumerism. As Maria Cristina Tavera states in her introduction to the 1997 book Mexican Pulp Art, "The fantasy elements reflect Mexican attitudes about life, death, mysticism, and the supernatural."

The show runs through March 7, 2015.

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Introduction by Maria Cristina Tavera

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Maria Cristina Tavera