Postcard from Oaxaca, Mexico: Favorites on the food front

The Mister came across a blog post somewhere online that read, “La Biznaga is the reason I moved to Oaxaca.” Can’t find that post, but we feel almost as strongly about the place. Casually comfortable, a diverse menu and hands-down the best, most generous and potent margarita we have ever had anywhere.

As during our prior visit a year earlier, our other favorite spot is Los Danzantes. Danzantes is more upscale in service and price, but still avoids feeling stuffy.

Since writing about food in Oaxaca numerous times in 2013, I’ll just let photos speak for these two restaurants.

I promise the Mister and I did not consume every bite of these during our month-long stay. Some friends joined us part of the time, so we had the opportunity to sample some additional dishes.

And, if you ever hear we have packed up and moved to Oaxaca, blame it on La Biznaga.

Postcard from Tlacolula de Matamoras, Oaxaca, Mexico: So many saints lost their heads….

Generally, statues of saints lining the walls in churches are robed modestly and depicted holding the iconic symbols associated with their lives, but a Baroque side chapel in the Church of La Asuncion de Nuestra Senora in the bustling city of Tlacolula de Matamoras does not cloak saintly sacrifices. The beautifully restored Dominican church dates from the middle of the 16th century.

The walls and ceilings of the chapel dedicated to El Senor of Tlacolula, a “black Christ” credited with performing miracles, are covered with gilded sculptural reliefs graphically illustrating the violent ends to the lives of numerous saints. Bloody wounds and severed heads testify to the gruesome suffering the martyrs endured for their faith.

Dim lighting and flash restrictions hindered our efforts to share the unusual portrayals, save for soft images of a severely gouged San Judas Thadeo enthroned behind Jesus astride a burro and poor decapitated San Pablo.

Postcard from Oaxaca, Mexico: Tattooed Museum Walls

Museums in Oaxaca don’t shy away from exhibiting edgy work, and a show linking Dr. Lakra and Toño Camuñas at Museo de los Pintores Oaxaqueños proves no exception.

The tattoos on the bodies of both artists seem to spill onto their works on the walls. The comic-book-like drawings of Camuñas easily could be labeled pornographic. Dr. Lakra, née Jerónimo López Ramírez, began his career as a tattoo artist. His upward trajectory has included solo exhibitions at the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston and The Drawing Center in New York City, where statue-topped pedestals dominating the exhibit in Oaxaca emerged.

Covering Lakra’s 2011 show for The New York Times, Carol Kino wrote:

“Lakra is a much more complex artist than people realize,” said his longtime art dealer and friend Jose Kuri, a partner in the Mexico City gallery Kurimanzutto. “It’s very easy to pigeonhole him as a tattoo artist who entered the art world with these tattoos on vintage magazines. But he’s really well-educated in classical painting and anthropology.”

… Born in Mexico City as Jerónimo López Ramírez, Dr. Lakra is the eldest son of the anthropologist and poet Elisa Ramírez Castañeda and the painter Francisco Toledo, one of Mexico’s towering cultural figures. (Mr. Toledo has had a hand in founding just about every cultural institution in his native Oaxaca.)

Dr. Lakra and his older sister, the conceptual artist Laureana Toledo, spent their childhood travelling around the world and continued visiting their father wherever he was living — New York, Paris, Barcelona — after their parents divorced in 1980. “My father took us to many, many museums,” Dr. Lakra said.