Processing Art through Public Filters, Part One

UTSA Libraries Special Collections
UTSA Libraries Special Collections

When completed the Mission Drive‐in Theatre will serve as an icon for preservation and neighborhood re‐development….

The project goal is to complete the approved mural components of the Historic Mission Drive‐In Marquee in a way that follows recommendations of the Secretary of the Interior’s Standards for the Treatment of Historic Buildings, and stays consistent with the historic period….

…all viable methods of re‐creating the mural, sign lettering and lighting feature will be considered, provided that the completed work re‐creates the style, color and graphic quality of the original mural and components as closely as possible.

Public Art San Antonio, 2012 RFP

Historic Mission Drive-In Marquee Re-Creation

The resulting illumination of the marquee mural instantly makes the old Mission Drive-In Theatre a striking night-time landmark on the south side.

Public Art San Antonio
Public Art San Antonio

But there is something missing.

KENS-5 TV
KENS-5 TV

The new mural is soul-less, devoid of the human presence that characterized the original.

Instead of a re-creation, the design was sanitized following public protests in several contentious meetings.

A sombrero-porting Latino leading a donkey, a beast of burden sparing many a worker from debilitating back injuries, and one napping under a sombrero are both regarded as racial stereotyping.

I concede there was a time when many Anglos viewed such images and uttered the racial slur “lazy Mexicans.” Call me naïve, but I like to think we have moved beyond that point.

Sombrerería in Mexico City, Late 1800s, Underwood & Underwood stereoview card: "The ordinary sombreros are made of palm-leaves and straw, but those of the wealthier classes are of expensive felt, and may be white, gray, or maroon in color. They are often very ornate, being embroidered with the wearer's monogram, or designs of flowers, and faced with gold or silver lace. In Mexico, only the men wear hats, and they are a very valued  possession. Sometimes a man will invest his entire fortune of thirty or forty dollars in his sombrero. They are frequently of vast dimensions. The larger the sombrero, in fact, the greater its aesthetic value in the eye of the average Mexican. The flourish with which he doffs it in salute is something never to be forgotten by the unaccustomed foreigner."
Sombrerería in Mexico City, late 1800s, Underwood & Underwood stereoview card: “The ordinary sombreros are made of palm-leaves and straw, but those of the wealthier classes are of expensive felt, and may be white, gray, or maroon in color. They are often very ornate, being embroidered with the wearer’s monogram, or designs of flowers, and faced with gold or silver lace. In Mexico, only the men wear hats, and they are a very valued possession. Sometimes a man will invest his entire fortune of thirty or forty dollars in his sombrero. They are frequently of vast dimensions. The larger the sombrero, in fact, the greater its aesthetic value in the eye of the average Mexican. The flourish with which he doffs it in salute is something never to be forgotten by the unaccustomed foreigner.”

My hope is, rather than erase the existence of sombreros from our collective memory, we honorably embrace them as part of our heritage in San Antonio.

Here is why:

  • San Antonio was part of Mexico for longer than it has been part of the United States.
  • Mexicans who worked outside in the hot sun wore sombreros. They were smart.
  • The crown of a sombrero can be angled to follow the sun like a sunflower, shading both the face and the neck.
  • Hardworking people who rose long before the sun and worked until after it went down could use their sombreros for shelter while taking well-deserved naps.
  • People who sport gimme caps get red necks. No additional comment necessary.
mi sombrero guapo
mi sombrero guapo

I’m all for a sombrero resurgence. I’m doing my part.

Yes, I know this aging gringa looks foolish wearing her broad-brimmed caballera hat, complete with a horsetail-hair stampede string to hold it in place when the wind threatens to send it swirling.

But time has taught me a few things. I grew up on a beach trying to keep up with tan people. I merely burned and freckled. A slow learner, I repeated the process over and over, summer after summer.

I’m part of a freckled race that old Dr. Pipkin said had no business south of Ireland. But I hate cold and love hot sauce.

Because I was not wise enough to learn from experience, I had, what I told the Mister was in his honor, an upside-down, backwards “L” carved in my chest. But that “L” actually represents the third letter of melanoma.

I’m only telling you this so, when you see me wearing my caballera hat walking along the Mission Reach, you won’t make fun of me in front of me. My sombrero represents a self-preservation technique I learned from old postcards, from photos of men like those who used to grace the Mission Drive-In marquee.

san-antonio-market

And, yes, some of the postcards were condescending in tone. But the photos were of real people, real people living in San Antonio who wore sensible hats when going about their daily business.

At this latitude, the sombrero-toting figure appears the smart one. Having a red neck is no sign of intelligence; it’s just asking to be branded with one of those “L’s.”

If only I had one of those back-saving burros to port that case of two-buck Chuck up to the kitchen….

Temporary art installations illuminate downtown storefronts

Had difficulty deciding whether to tamper with the whimsical excitement of encountering unexpected illuminated art in vacant storefronts. To tour or not to tour?

But the Mister gamely rushed home in his reverse-commute so we could arrive at the 5:30 start time for the opening walk of Cut and Paste, a continuation of Public Art San Antonio’s X Marks the Art series of public art installations. And then we waited. And waited. We considered just walking on our own, but, given the number of people at the weeknight gathering competing with Mardi Gras celebrations, bailing out seemed rude. In defense of PASA, this probably was the planned “reception” time, we just would have preferred to have not rushed and, instead, to have arrived at 6:15.

Finally, 45 minutes later, the art walk got under way.

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Rather than rely on random chance encounters, we were happy we waited for the walk because of the opportunity to hear several of the artists explain the rationale behind their work. As curator, Cruz Ortiz did a spectacular job of assembling a dynamic group of installations.

Visit the website, and follow the X’s around downtown. The displays will be up through May. Or go on the next after-work tour, which actually is billed as lasting an hour so should begin right at 5:30 p.m. on Tuesday, March 12, on the riverside plaza, Argo Plaza, at 175 East Houston Street.

Does god really need a billboard?

Someone seriously expects us to believe god loves billboards, particularly one lording over the river?

Time for an intercession?

According to one website, the patron saint of advertising, Saint Bernadine of Sienna:

…was accustomed to preach holding a board on which were the first three letters of the Savior’s name in its Greek form–‘IHS’–surrounded by rays, and he persuaded people to copy these plaques and erect them over their dwellings and public buildings.

Oh, Saint Bernadine, what did you unleash?

Maybe we need an intervention by Panchito instead?

Note: Read about the St. Catherine of Bologna-pleasing bridge railing by George Schroeder here.

Update on June 15, 2012: Seeking a poem by Yeats I cannot remember, I came across an assemblage of tree quotations at garden digest containing the most obvious one to have included with this post:

I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree.

Ogden Nash, Song of the Open Road, 1933

And then this by extension:

No wonder the hills and groves were God’s first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself.

John Muir

Lest you think this was an attack on religion, war has broken out in San Antonio. Atheists have launched a counter-attack, mounting their own billboards along major arteries. Claiming nonbelievers are ostracized in San Antonio, the billboards invite them to “join the club.”

Two wrongs definitely do not make a right; they just make more wrong things.

Wish Lady Bird Johnson would fly up out of her grave and haunt them all.

Update on February 2, 2013: Oh, no. They are multiplying. Billboards “showing the way to God” are so abundant, they qualify for Clear Channel’s “volume discount,” according to the San Antonio Express-News.

“Upsize your life,” reads one.

Like fast-food burgers and fries, signs are among things that shouldn’t be upsized.