Silver from el Minero de Santiago Marfil afforded one of the Spanish elite settling in Mexico to purchase land above the Rio Guanajuato and oriented toward a church for a luxurious hacienda in the late 1700s.
Centuries later in the 1960s when Canadian artist Gene Byron (1910-1987) and her husband Virgil Fernandez del Real purchased the ex-hacienda Santa Anna, Marfil was somewhat of a ghost town. The couple transformed the ancient buildings and grounds into a showcase for their collections of Colonial art and the results of their own artistic endeavors. In addition to her painting, Byron learned to craft handsome punched tin and copper pieces that are found throughout the house museum her husband opened to the public after her death.
The museum often hosts live classical or jazz concerts on Sundays in an intimate setting. During the week, wandering through the house with a docent often is a private tour.
There is a restaurant on site, but we visited on a Monday when it was closed. Although the road through no longer-sleepy Marfil has traffic speeding along, we walked along the narrow sidewalk to ascend to the colorful church perched above and then passed by the ancient statue-topped dam across the river on our way to score an incredible Italian feast at Piccato di Gola, fifteen minutes away at the other end of town.
Artistic philosophers tend to view the walls of Oaxaca as open invitations for expressing their political views or reflections on the cycles of life, so walks are never dull.
As my street art file is overflowing, thought it was time to share a first installment.
The one positive outcome of POTUS’ proposed wall is that the southern side immediately would be transformed into the world’s longest linear art gallery. Not sure el presidente would appreciate being the focal point of the biting political satire that would be directed his way.
Bearing a pair of eyes on a platter, Santa Lucia, or Saint Lucy (283-304), watches all entering the Ex-Convento de Santo Domingo, home to El Museo de las Culturas de Oaxaca. The patron saint for safeguarding eyesight and writers, Santa Lucia always has ranked among my favorites.
Upon reaching what was considered a marriageable age, Santa Lucia opted to dedicate herself to God and pledge herself a virgin. Born into a wealthy family in Sicily, she began distributing her worldly goods to the poor.
Alas, Lucy’s mother previously had promised her daughter’s hand to a suitor, a man displeased with the dispersal of the family’s wealth perhaps more than the personal rejection. Vengeful, he reported her Christian beliefs to Roman authorities.
The Roman authorities sentenced Lucy to reside in a brothel and to be forced into prostitution. Divine intervention rendered her immovable, despite the soldiers’ repeated efforts to budge her in order to carry out the sentence. Thwarted, they gouged out her eyes and set her ablaze. But Lucy proved impervious to the flames so they resorted to ending her life by thrusting a sword through her throat.
This background is why Santa Lucia would seem ideal to offer temporary sanctuary to a Penny Siopsis’ powerful short film, Communion, relating to the end-of-life experience of a Dominican nun, Sister Mary Aidan (1914-1952). The Irish-born doctor, Elsie Quinlan, had devoted years to lovingly tending and healing Black South Africans in a clinic in New London, South Africa, when she turned her automobile into a public square in November of 1952.
Apartheid was institutionalized by the National Party of white rulers of the country, and public gatherings of Blacks were outlawed. The African National Congress spurred a protest in the square as part of the 1952 Defiance Campaign, and soldiers firing into the crowd killed several Blacks.
By the time Sister Aidan drove into the midst of the then angry mob, instead of recognizing a nun who had been helping them the rioters only saw yet another white person determined to harm them. She was stabbed seven times and set ablaze in her car.
The fire had fused my rosary beads….
“voice” of Sister Mary Aidan narrating Communion
The crowd still was determined to avenge the deaths of those shot by the soldiers. The first-person narration continues with the inquest:
Parts of my body were missing. Someone said a lady had a bread knife.
By the time police broke up the riot, the government admitted to fatal shootings of at least nine. Unofficial reports placed the number at closer to 200.
And that is all of the tragic tale I can bear to relate. What could be sadder than, as artist Siopsis described during a dialogue with artist William Kentridge, “being killed by people you love and who love you?”
“Drum/Tambor,” Samson Mudzunga, 1996
“Rain Prayers/Los Rezos de Lluvia,” Simphiwe Ndzube, 2018
“The Revenge of 400 Years Is Losing its Baby Teeth/La Vengaza de 400 Anos Esta Pendiendo sus Dientes de Leche,” Dan Halter
“Drum/Tambor,” Samson Mudzunga, 1996
“Hacer Noche/Crossing Night,” Arte Contemporaneo del Sur de Africa, through February 5
“Rain Prayers/Los Rezos de Lluvia,” Simphiwe Ndzube, 2018
“Rain Prayers/Los Rezos de Lluvia,” Simphiwe Ndzube, 2018
El Museo de las Culturas de Oaxaca, Ex-Convento Santo Domingo
El Museo de las Culturas de Oaxaca, Ex-Convento Santo Domingo
The film is part of “Hacer Noche/Crossing Night: Arte Contemporaraneo del Sur de Africa,” an exhibit at the Museo de las Culturas closing February 5.
The dancing skeletons visible in the background of one of the photo’s of Simphiwe Ndzube’s “Rain Prayers” are a frame from Kentridge’s short film “30% of Life/30% de Vida.”
Postcards from Barton Springs 