XL COVER STORY

Mexic-Arte exhibit details Aztec and Mayan imagery in art

By Jeanne Claire van Ryzin
AMERICAN-STATESMAN ARTS WRITER
Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Claudia Zapata thinks you should take a second look at the Mexican flag.

That eagle with a snake in its mouth and perched on a nopal cactus that's growing out of a rock that rises above a lake?

Yes, it has been on the flag since shortly after Mexico declared its independence in 1810. But its symbolism is older than you might think.

"Most people don't know that when they're looking at the Mexican flag, they're looking at the Aztec creation myth," says Zapata, curator of "Aztec and Maya Revival," the current exhibit at Mexic-Arte Museum.

According to Aztec legend, the gods told the tribe to build a city where they saw an eagle perched upon a nopal that was growing out of rock submerged in water. The spot the Aztecs chose was Lake Texcoco in the central valley of Mexico. They called their city Tenochtitlán; today, it's Mexico City.

"It's not haphazard that that Aztec symbol is on the flag," Zapata says.

After all, as the exhibit makes clear, in the late 19th century, Mexico's quest for a unique national identity led to an artistic embrace of the country's indigenous past. The iconography of Aztec and Mayan cultures — along with that from Mesoamerican cultures such the Olmecs, Zapotecs and Mixtecs, among others — became the foundation of Mexican popular and fine arts.

In the slick parlance of advertising and marketing, Mexico reached to its pre-Columbian past to brand itself.

Zapata plumbed private collections in Austin and San Antonio along with the vast holdings of the University of Texas to gather an array of objects that span several millennia from pre-Columbian artifacts dating to 1500 B.C. to deliberately campy Mexican horror films of the 1950s.

Along a wall in Mexic-Arte's wood-floored galleries stands an elaborately carved piano commissioned by Mexican President Porfirio Díaz for the 1900 Paris Exposition that features images of the Zapotec god of lightning, Cocijo. Richly beaded and sequined folkloric clothing — emblazoned with the eagle and serpent Aztec image — fills one display case. Elegant silver jewelry from the 1920s fills another and shows how the linear stylings of Art Deco merged with the equally linear geometries of pre-Columbian symbols.

Paintings and drawings by noted Mexican artists Roberto Montenegro and Miguel Covarrubias from the 1920 depict more pre-Columbian myths and historic figures in very modern stylizations: Montenegro paints Cuauhtémoc, the last Aztec king, in vaguely cubist style while Covarrubias uses a cartoonish flair. And in a back gallery, there's a massive, ornate thronelike chair, an original lobby adornment from San Antonio's 1926 Art Deco movie palace, the Aztec Theatre.

All of it together shows how indigenous imagery fused not just with the fine arts but also with modern material and popular culture to form a distinct ethos that today we simply understand as Mexican style.

First, a little history: When European conquerors arrived in Mexico in the 16th century, they set out to dominate the indigenous people. And by common scholarly understanding, they did a good job of subjugating the native people and decimating their culture.

But as Mexico headed out of the 19th century and toward a more modern 20th-century mind-set, a greater consciousness of the country's distinct heritage percolated. Fueling the flames was the emerging science of archaeology, which led to the discovery of long-forgotten ancient sites. And while the Mexican Revolution rocked the country into political turmoil from 1910 to 1920, culturally it actually helped forge a new national identity. What was distinctly Mexican about Mexico? The indigenous people and their historic contributions to the culture.

The Mexic-Arte exhibit starts on the eve of the Revolution with the celebrations surrounding Mexico's centennial in 1910.

"We start with showing how official Mexico first started using pre-Columbian images and archaeology discoveries as culture symbols," Zapata says.

A vintage photograph shows a centennial celebration with President Díaz — himself partly of indigenous Zapotec heritage — posing with the Aztec Sun Stone, a monolithic multiton stone sculpture that charts the Aztec cosmology. A display case features several enormous illustrated souvenir books from the centennial celebration. Other objects — such as a pair of regal decorative sculptures of the eagle and serpent symbol — make the point that by the time Mexico celebrated its centennial, the use of pre-Columbian iconography was popping up in all manner of things.

Zapata suggests that you next head around the gallery corner from the centennial displays. There, she has assembled several dozen rare artifacts spanning several thousand years and several different pre-Columbian cultures. And there, she says, you can see just where modern artists and designers found all the ancient images they were so fond of using.

The earliest are small carved stone figures representing the classic style of the Olmec, recognized by archaeologists as one of the oldest Mesoamerican cultures dating as far back as 1500 B.C. The seated figures sport stylized features that are both catlike and infantile — miniature versions of the colossal stone heads found in the Mexican states of Veracruz and Tabasco and that reflect the Olmec belief in a mystic race that was half human, half jaguar.

Other ancient sculptures include a stone figure of the Aztec fire god Huehueteotl dating from about 1200 A.D. A Zapotec effigy vessel from about 500 B.C. was used in a burial rite, placed in a tomb as an offering to the afterlife.

Projected silently onto a gallery wall next to all these archaeological wonders is a National Geographic Society documentary from the 1950s with vintage footage of archaeologists at work busily uncovering ancient objects — or at least re-enacting their discoveries.

"It's just like 'Indiana Jones' is today," Zapata suggests of the clearly dated movie. "Even then, they were trying to romanticize and dramatize the work of archaeologists."

The drama and romance of pre-Columbian archaeology reached a campy pinnacle in B horror movies in the 1950s, three of which Zapata selected to play on a continuous loop in a back gallery: "Attack of the Aztec Mummy (La Momia Azteca)," "Curse of the Aztec Mummy (La Maldicion de la Momia Azteca)" and "The Robot vs. the Aztec Mummy (La Momia Azteca Contra El Robot Humano)."

A half-dozen actual movie seats give exhibit visitors an in-museum theater in which to watch the outrageous and ultimately funny movies. Vintage movie posters and lobby cards add to the flavor. All of it is a nod to the Aztec Theatre in San Antonio.

Of course, Zapata says, there's not as much romance, action and drama to the actual practice of archaeology and the study of pre-Columbian culture as you see in the Aztec mummy movies. And in fact, there's not a lot of historical accuracy at work. "Obviously they weren't exactly trying to be specific to any one pre-Columbian culture," Zapata says of the moviemakers. "Often what you see is a real amalgamation of images from several different civilizations — generic pre-Columbian forms."

But still, she says, the beauty of pre-Columbian culture got a hold on them, like so many others, and didn't let go.

jvanryzin@statesman.com; 445-3699

'Aztec and Maya Revival'

When: 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Mondays-Thursdays, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, noon to 5 p.m. Sundays through Sept. 16

Where: Mexic-Arte, 419 Congress Ave.

Cost: $5 adults, $4 seniors and students, $1 children under 12

Info:480-9373, www.mexic-artemuseum.org

'Representations of the Mexican Past in the 1910 Centenario'

What: Lecture by Raul Ramos, professor, University of Houston

When: 2 p.m. Aug. 9

Cost: Free

'Attack of the Aztec Mummy' Movie Night

What:Screening of 'Attack of the Aztec Mummy (La Momia Azteca).' In Spanish with English subtitles.

When:7 p.m. reception followed by 8 p.m. screening Aug. 15

Cost: $6