The Shaman's Mirror

by Hope MacLean

  The individual experience of the “dreams” or visions induced by the peyote are [sic] considered to be too sacred to be discussed or shared . . . Nevertheless, Ramón agreed to try to translate some of his peyote “dreams” into pictorial form . . . In this yarn painting Ramón shows how he experienced the fire, Tatewari . . . The fire is shown exploding in a shower of multi-colored flashes and rays of great brilliance and luminescent splendor, each ray dissolving into its component colors. Below ground are Tatewari’s “roots,” above, the night sky—a deep blue shot through with fiery reds—is turned into a blinding yellow, the color of the noonday sun in the desert sky.

  Ramón’s yarn paintings are the first to represent ordinary beings and objects simultaneously with beings that exist in the alternate reality. That is, ordinary humans and everyday objects are shown alongside deities and events that can be seen only with shamanic vision. The two forms of reality are shown in the same style, a flat, slightly cartoonlike idiom, all on one plane.

  Ramón Medina developed a visual language for the Huichol cosmological view of the world, one in which things of the spirit and things of the everyday exist simultaneously on the same plane. The two forms of reality interpenetrate each other just as, in the yarn paintings, the images of humans and deities interact with each other. Subsequent artists would build on this method of depicting nonordinary reality.

  Lupe claimed to me that many paintings attributed to Ramón were made by both of them. She said that it was she who taught Ramón how to make crafts, including yarn paintings. Lupe said she learned skills such as embroidery and weaving as a child. She remembered fasting all morning as a young girl while she practiced a new embroidery pattern; that way, she said, she would learn it quickly and not forget. I was unable to confirm Lupe’s claim directly. However, Furst (personal communication) confirmed that she filled in the backgrounds of Ramón’s paintings. Some paintings have been attributed solely to Lupe, and Lupe continued to make paintings after Ramón’s death.

  Lupe originated what I think of as the first “feminist” yarn painting. How the Husband Assists in the Birth of a Child shows a man in the rafters of a house, a cord tied to his testicles. As the woman delivers the child, she pulls on the cord “so that her husband shared in the painful, but ultimately joyous, experience of childbirth” (reproduced in Berrin 1978, 162; MacLean 2001b, 72; MacLean 2005b, 34). There has been some question about what custom this painting refers to, since there is no record of the Huichol practicing this custom. Schaefer (1990, 204–205) records that she could not find anyone who knew of the practice and cites a personal communication from Furst, who said that it might come from an old trickster legend about Tamatsi Kauyumari. Whether it refers to a myth or a practiced custom, the image of a woman—usually a goddess—giving birth has become popular. The Huichol artist Fabian González Rĺos told me “la mujer dando luz” (Sp.: the woman giving birth) was his best seller, and I photographed many versions of it.

  A tension between innovation and conservatism pervades Ramón and Lupe’s work. They introduced new images and themes to yarn paintings, such as the depiction of myth and vision as well as abstract concepts such as kupuri. At the same time, they drew on a vocabulary of images already existing in Huichol art, such as stick figures, geometric shapes, and rows of repeated figures. Their figures are outlined in one color, then filled in with a second color. The backgrounds are filled in with large expanses of solid color, and often only one or two colors are used. In the 1960s, the painters used comparatively thick wool, so there was not much space for elaborate detail.

  The compositions in their paintings are often based on strong geometric shapes, such as circles or triangles, which organize the other figures in the paintings. For example, a triangle dominates The Dead Soul’s Journey to the Spirit World. Circles dominate two paintings illustrating punishments for sexual offenses (P. Furst 1968–1969, 23).

  Lupe and Ramón also built on one of the most important traditional compositions—rows of repeating figures. Rows of repeated figures are a basic design used constantly in backstrap loom weaving, beaded jewelry, and embroidery. For example, a woven belt may have rows of deer, birds, flowers, or twining vines. An embroidered pouch may have rows of peyote or animals, and most embroidered clothing has bands of flowers, stars, or peyote around the hem or along seams. Some figures are identical; others vary somewhat.

  Fig. 6.3. Santos Daniel Carrillo Jiménez, yarn painting of a goddess giving birth to humanity, 2005. 8” x 8” (20 x 20 cm). Although this is a popular theme in commercial paintings, it is not found in sacred paintings. Photo credit: Adrienne Herron.

  In Lupe and Ramón’s paintings, the rows of repeated figures are used dramatically. For example, a painting by Ramón shows a repeating row of little girls and little boys attending the Drum Ceremony (MacLean 2001b, 69). Sacred Colors of Maize by Lupe shows a repeated row of corn plants (Berrin 1978, 159). Lupe’s painting Peter Furst Receiving the Name of a Deity has a geometric border of triangles, much like the geometric designs used in women’s embroidery (Berrin 1978, 67).

  Artistically, there is considerable development in Ramón and Lupe’s paintings, from a few crudely drawn figures floating in space in the Kieri series to the considerably more sophisticated paintings of dreams and visions experienced during the peyote hunt.

  As graphic art, their work is powerful and still viable in the contemporary marketplace. Ramón and Lupe’s designs have been used on book jackets (Berrin 1978; P. Furst 2006) and on T-shirts, which sell briskly in airports and tourist centers.

  The style originated by Ramón and Lupe dominated yarn paintings in the 1960s and 1970s. Many painters used their style or directly copied their paintings. Even today, I have seen copies of their paintings made by other Huichol for sale at the Basilica of Zapopan in Guadalajara and the Nayarit state government shops in Tepic.

  Lupe’s family also continues to sell copies of their designs and regard them as part of their family heritage. In a way, their attitude is like the Huichol view of embroidery designs. Designs are “owned” by particular women and their families, and women decide to whom they will give or teach the designs. It is customary to give a gift or payment in exchange for learning a new design. Some women even go so far as to wear their embroidered clothes inside out so that other women will not copy their designs without their permission.

  The Huichol do not particularly value originality in art, which is a Western aesthetic concept. They are quite happy to reproduce successful or well-liked designs, though they may vary the colors and designs to suit their personal taste. This tendency to copy dismays some art dealers, who want to assure Western buyers that their paintings are “originals.”7

  There is no doubt that Ramón and Lupe were creative innovators. They played an important role in the commercialization of Huichol art, taking it from a simple repetition of symbols to elaborate paintings showing narrative and even visionary events. Nonetheless, Westerners played a part in the transition, just as they had done during the earlier period when Alfonso Soto Soria and Augustĺn Yáñez helped transform sacred offerings into gallery art. Padre Ernesto may already have begun to encourage the making of mythological yarn paintings before Furst got involved. The anthropologists Furst and Myerhoff introduced the idea of narrative painting and fostered Ramón and Lupe’s creativity by purchasing the results.

  By 1967, the Mexican government was becoming interested in promoting yarn paintings. Stromberg (1976, 156) explained that the government was especially interested in the art of northern Guerrero and the Huichol because their “somewhat psychedelic quality” was in harmony with the artistic theme of the Summer Olympics, staged in Mexico City in 1968.

  Nevertheless there was concern that commercialization was already starting to corrupt Huichol art (P. Furst 1968–1969, 21). Imitation Huichol art was diverting revenue from Huichol artists to mestizos. Some entrepreneurs were encouraging the Huichol to make tourist souvenirs, such as Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck yarn painti
ngs (Enfield Richmond de Mejĺa, personal communication). To preserve high quality and traditional workmanship in yarn paintings, the Instituto Nacional Indigenista invited Ramón Medina to come to Tepic and teach yarn painting to the Huichol living there. Ramón and Lupe had just been evicted from their small rancho north of Guadalajara as the city expanded around them. They moved back to the Sierra (P. Furst, 1968–1969, 18; 1978, 30), then accepted the INI’s invitation to move to Tepic.

  Shortly after their move, Ramón met the Mexican journalist Fernando Benĺtez, who was writing a series of books on Mexican Indians called Los Indios de México. Benĺtez (1968, 353–382) wrote that in November 1967, he received a telephone call from Salomón Nahmad Sittón, the director of the Cora-Huichol Center of the INI in Tepic, telling him that a good Huichol consultant had become available. Benĺtez immediately took a plane to Tepic, where he met Ramón. According to Furst (2006, 112), Benĺtez hired Ramón as a guide and interpreter. Ramón invited Benĺtez to a fiesta at his mother’s rancho at Paso del Muerto along the Santiago River. Benĺtez’s account of this rather unhappy visit sheds light on Ramón’s character, expanding on Furst’s somewhat guarded references to Ramón’s less than desirable qualities.8 Ramón, who had taken a second wife, was spending his money literally on wine, women, and song, hiring Mexican musicians to play at the fiesta and drinking heavily. In the uproar, Lupe left him and moved to Tepic, resolving to start a school for teaching crafts with several other women. However, shortly after, Benĺtez met the couple in Tepic and commented that they were apparently reconciled.

  Benĺtez (1968) devoted one volume of his five-volume series to the Huichol and the Cora. Like Furst and Myerhoff, he relied heavily on Ramón for mythological information, although he accompanied a different group of Huichols on a peyote pilgrimage. Benĺtez commented that Ramón was a good source of information, and he illustrated his book with three yarn paintings by Ramón (Benĺtez 1968, 514, 529, 577).

  Furst said that the INI had asked Ramón to teach yarn painting in a school setting, but I did not find much evidence of his activity there. I spoke to one Huichol artist, Fabian González Rĺos, who attended the government school. He told me that Ramón was not involved when he was there and that the school was directed by the Mexican anthropologist Miguel Palafox Vargas. Furthermore, Fabian said that most of the students were mestizos who knew nothing about Huichol customs, and so they could paint only things they knew, such as cows and pigs. Perhaps the government school took in mestizos because the Huichol were not particularly interested in this form of teaching. My interviews with other artists show that most Huichol did not learn through the INI school. Many Huichol began to make yarn paintings in the late 1960s, but they learned by apprenticing themselves to other Huichol artists.

  A number of artists learned yarn painting from Ramón Medina and later from Lupe, during the late 1960s and early 1970s. Many of their students were, in fact, their relatives, either through kinship or marriage, or else they came from the same communities. Guadalupe González Rĺos and his brother, Fabian González Rĺos, were primos (cousins) of Lupe through the Rĺos family. José Benĺtez Sánchez was a primo of Ramón Medina through family in San Sebastián. Cresencio Pérez’s brother was married to one of Lupe’s sisters, and Domingo González was married to another sister. Chavelo González was married to Lupe’s niece. Eligio Carrillo came from the same region as the Rĺos family and became a compadre of Ramón and Lupe. Many of these students have, in turn, become leading yarn painters.

  Ramón died in 1971. He was shot during a fiesta in a dispute over a woman. Afterward, Lupe continued to support herself by making crafts. As a result of their contacts and publicity, Lupe had large orders for yarn paintings from museums and buyers in the United States. She hired Eligio Carrillo to work with her. She had photographs of paintings by Ramón, and she asked Eligio to help make copies of Ramón’s paintings for her to sell. Some of the paintings attributed to Lupe may, in fact, have been made by Eligio Carrillo or by other apprentices who worked with her during the 1970s.

  A large collection of paintings was purchased from Lupe by Peter F. Young. They are now in the San Diego Museum of Man (Grace Johnson, personal communication), and the records show they were purchased between 1972 and 1974. I have reproduced seven paintings from this collection in books and articles (MacLean 2001a, 2001b, 2005b). Some are variations of paintings by Ramón, while others appear to be original. These may be the paintings that Eligio helped Lupe make.

  During the 1970s, Lupe gradually sank into poverty and obscurity. She was crippled by what may have been arthritis in her knees, and she spent all her money seeking cures from shamans. Many of the buyers and contacts seem to have been friends of Ramón’s. They formed associations with other Huichol families, and she did not see them again after a while. In 1988, her fortunes took another turn when Edmond Faubert took her and her family on a trip through Canada and the United States to visit Indian reservations. It was on this trip that I first met her.

  In the 1990s, she traveled in Canada and the United States and acquired new friends in places like California and New Mexico. These friends helped her and her family by buying crafts from them, an extremely important consideration for impoverished indigenous people. In return, she taught them about Huichol culture and performed basic healing ceremonies. When visiting indigenous communities, she promoted the importance of retaining their culture and traditions. Her health continued to deteriorate. Her family told me that she developed liver cancer, and she died on 9 May 1999 at the age of eighty-one. She was buried at her rancho outside Tepic.

  Early Artists from Other Regions

  While Lupe and Ramón were influential among Huichol in the state of Nayarit, Huichol artists from other parts of the Sierra were making crafts for sale as well. Several artists told me that during the late 1960s and 1970s, there were houses in both Guadalajara and Mexico City where Huichols could stay when they came to the city. The house in Guadalajara was run by the Franciscans of Zapopan. The house in Mexico City was sponsored by a government department that wanted to encourage Huichol artists, but the artists were not sure which department it was. The artist Miguel Carrillo Montoya told me that when he lived in the house in the 1960s, it was the building near the Zócalo now occupied by the Museo Franz Meyer.

  The houses seem to have functioned as centers for apprenticeship where Huichol could teach one another and so spread the knowledge of how to do yarn painting. Several artists from the Chapalagana communities told me how they had learned to make crafts in these houses. Here I will tell the story of two of these young artists: Alejandro López de la Torre and Santos Daniel Carrillo Jiménez. Their accounts give a picture of what life was like for young Huichol who came to the city and of how the knowledge of yarn painting was passed down to them.

  Alejandro López de la Torre

  Alejandro López de la Torre is from Santa Catarina. He was born in Nueva Colonia in 1955. His family lived in the barranca (Sp.: canyon, that is, the region below the pine-forested heights of the Sierra), and there were no Huichol living in Nueva Colonia then. When he was a child, he said there were no schools. The first Huichol schoolteacher arrived in 1967, when he was about twelve. The teacher opened a school in Nueva Colonia. Alejandro’s father sent him to the school, where he stayed for about one year. The Huichol parents donated blankets and food to maintain the school; now the government supplies them. Alejandro’s teacher was also responsible for resolving land-tenure problems. He was preparing a plan to ensure that no mestizos could invade the comunidad and was trying to secure titles to protect Huichol land. Therefore, he did not have much time for teaching and often was in school for only a week or two before leaving again. As a result, Alejandro did not learn much in the school.

  The artist Miguel Carrillo Montoya, who attended the school at the same time as Alejandro, confirmed Alejandro’s statements about the teacher’s role. He told me that the teacher’s name was Augustĺn Sandoval and that Sandoval left (or perhaps was fo
rced to leave) the Sierra; as of 1996, he was living and working as a healer in Durango.

  The following year, when Alejandro was about thirteen, his father took him to the coast of Nayarit to work in the fields. The whole family made the journey, which required a week of walking west through the mountains. His father knew how to make bead earrings, rings, and bracelets, so he bought Alejandro some beads and taught him the craft of beading. Then Alejandro went to Guadalajara, where he sold beadwork and learned how to make god’s eyes. This was in about 1969. He lived in Zapopan on the outskirts of Guadalajara, where a priest (probably one of the Franciscans) had donated a house with many rooms and a patio. Many Huichols arrived from the Sierra and stayed there to work on crafts. Alejandro started helping an artist from San Sebastián who was making yarn paintings. Someone had ordered a huge painting, and his teacher asked him to help make it, but Alejandro just filled in the background. The following year, Alejandro went to Mexico City, where he spent the years from 1971 to 1975, and supported himself by making crafts. Then in 1975, he began to work with the artist Mariano Valadez, helping him make yarn paintings by filling in backgrounds. After working with Mariano, he developed the skill to make yarn paintings on his own.

  Alejandro returned to Santa Catarina in 1985. In the late 1980s, he travelled to San Diego and Santa Fe at the invitation of Susana Eger Valadez, where he performed dances and demonstrated yarn painting. When I met him, in 1993, he was operating a grocery store out of his home and selling crafts. He was taking on progressively more responsible cargos (positions) in community administration, as well as temple cargos in pilgrimages to Wirikuta. In 1997, I saw him in Toronto, where he had travelled on an intercultural exchange program. Thus, he combines traditional life in a Sierra community with international travel as an artist.