Introduction

For the Getty initiative, Pacific Standard Time: LA/LA, the Ruth Chandler Williamson Gallery, at
Scripps College, presents the exhibition, Revolution and Ritual: The Photographs of Sara
Castrejón, Graciela Iturbide, and Tatiana Parcero. At Scripps, students and faculty have access
to a rich collection of photographs, enabling them to engage in hands-on learning. Scripps has built
its photography collection with a special emphasis on women who have shaped the photographic
field. This exhibition presents the art of three extraordinary Mexican women photographers: Sara
Castrejón, Graciela Iturbide, and Tatiana Parcero. While both Iturbide and Parcero are already
represented in the College’s growing collection of photographs, this exhibition introduces
Castrejón’s images, which have been little seen even in Mexico, to a United States audience.

Revolution and Ritual offers an in-depth look at the photographic works of women from three
generations: Sara Castrejón (1888–1962), Graciela Iturbide (b.1942), and Tatiana Parcero
(b.1967). Their works trace a broad transformation in notions of Mexican identity from
documentary history to personal expression. For these artists, identity is based not on an abstract
concept but on lived experience. Their works share a focus on humanity, from Castrejón’s portraits
of colonels and combatants of the Mexican Revolution, to Iturbide’s images of women of the
Juchitán and Mixteca, to Parcero’s interest in engaging with layers of Mexican history. Their
images reveal a pictorial spectrum of Mexican identity from the national to the personal. Their
images reveal that identity is a complex experience of many dimensions, at once personal, cultural,
and political, interwoven in art as in life.

Mary Davis MacNaughton, Director

Acknowledgments

Thanks go first to the Getty Foundation for its generous support of this project, Revolution and
Ritual: The Photographs of Sara Castrejón, Graciela Iturbide, and Tatiana Parcero, through
planning, implementation, and publication grants. In particular, I am grateful to Deborah Marrow,
Joan Weinstein, Gloria Gerace, Heather MacDonald, Selene Preciado, Katie Underwood, and
Carolyn Wagner. At Scripps College, additional support was provided by the Jean and Arthur
Ames Fund, as well as Clark and Harper Funds.

We are most grateful to artists Graciela Iturbide and Tatiana Parcero. We also are indebted to
Jennifer DeCarlo, jdc Fine Art in Chicago; The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust; Davis
Museum at Wellesley College, and the Consuelo Castrejón Family. We also extend thanks to the
private collectors: Sharon and Michael Blasgen; Sophie Bryan; Paula Ely and Cesar Rueda; Jill
Reehl; and Kathy and John DeCarlo.

I give heartfelt thanks to the three scholars whose catalog essays illuminate the art in this
exhibition: On Castrejón: John Mraz, research professor with the Instituto de Ciencias Sociales y
Humanidades at Benemérita Universidad Autónoma de Puebla, México; On Iturbide: Marta Dahó,
Curator and Associate Researcher at the Universitat de Barcelona; On Parcero: Esther Gabara, E.
Blake Byrne Associate Professor of Romance Studies, Art History and Visual Studies, Duke
University. Thanks also go to research assistant Sara Molina Pedraza, whose skill at finding
sources was invaluable. I also thank editor Jennifer Boynton for her sharp eye and deft touch.

This project was realized with the expert collaboration of the capable administrative team at the
Ruth Chandler Williamson Gallery, including Collection Manager Kirk Delman and Gallery
Installer T. Pacini, who creatively designed and realized the exhibition, assisted by Curator of
Visual Resources John Trendler, Getty Intern Gabrielle Garcia ’19, and Turk Intern Madeline
Helland ‘18. Collection Data Specialist Colleen Salomon closely read texts with a keen eye for
detail, and she expanded the audience for the exhibition through print and digital communications.
Administrative Assistant Jennifer Anderson efficiently organized educational events, created
publicity, and, through Creativity Collaborative, skillfully designed and produced the distinctive
exhibition brochure and catalog. Thanks also go to Wilson Intern Laurel Dickstein ’18 for writing
the exhibition’s many wall texts.

For connecting this project to the 2017 Year of Mexico in Los Angeles, I am grateful to Consul
Andres Webster Henestrosa and Consul General Carlos Garcia de Alba of the Consulate General
of Mexico in Los Angeles. We appreciate the sponsorship of Aeromexico.

The Williamson Gallery program has been extremely fortunate in the support of the Ruth Chandler
Williamson Advisory Council, the Scripps Collectors’ Circle, the Dean of Faculty Amy Marcus
Newhall, President Larissa Tiedens, and the Trustees of Scripps College. I offer them my deepest
thanks.

Mary Davis MacNaughton, Director

(left)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Pedro Aranda, Salgadista, y niño, Teloloapan, 1913)
(Salgadista Pedro Aranda and child, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(right)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Teódulo Cisneros, Salgadista bajo el comando de Coronel Adrián Castrejón, 10
minutos antes de ser ejecutado, Teloloapan, 10 de Agosto, 1913)
(Teódulo Cisneros, Salgadista under the command of Colonel Adrián Castrejón, 10 minutes
before he was executed, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

Historian John Mraz discusses these photographs and their corresponding historical context. He
begins by addressing the photograph on the left: “It was taken in 1913, so the image is
representative of the generalized militarization of childhood under the dictator Victoriano
Huerta, who had overthrown Madero in February of that year. But it is important to emphasize
that childhood was (and still is) very short in Mexico, particularly for campesinos, who were
expected to enter into active labor as early as eight years old. Children were swept up in the
revolution for a number of reasons. When their lands were invaded by enemy forces, they
followed their families into campaigns, where railroad cars and camps became their new
domestic spaces. Adolescent boys joined up to escape their families or for the pay or for the
adventure or because they were attracted to the charisma of leaders such as Pancho Villa; and
they were often press-ganged, above all by the Huertista government. They performed a variety
of functions: to bring water, to care for the horses, to carry messages, to serve guard duty, and to
be spies.” The risks inherent to these tasks were great in both the army and the rebellion. Many
young people lost their lives in the line of duty. In the right-hand photograph, we see a young
man just a few minutes before he will be executed.

(top)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Salgadistas Filiberto Ortega, General Fidel Pineda, y Paulino Santana, 15 minutos
antes de que fueran ejecutados, Teloloapan, 10 de Agosto, 1913)
(Salgadistas Filiberto Ortega, General Fidel Pineda, and Paulino Santana, 15 minutes before
being executed, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(bottom)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Ejecución de Salgadistas: Filiberto Ortega, General Fidel Pineda,
and Paulino Santana, Teloloapan, 10 de Agosto, 1913)
(Execution of Salgadistas Filiberto Ortega, General Fidel Pineda, and Paulino Santana,
Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

In this pair of images Castrejón has immortalized rebel soldiers awaiting their execution and the
moment their captors opened fire. One reason for the creation of these photographs could be that
the commanding officers requested them as proof of the execution. Alternatively, it was not
uncommon for the family of soldiers to request portraits in remembrance of their loved ones.

Mary MacNaughton, director of the Ruth Chandler Williamson Gallery, notes, “[Castrejón’s]
images reveal that she went beyond merely identifying prisoners to be executed: she extended
empathy to the triumphant or the doomed by treating them with equal respect, and she followed
pictorial tradition by giving each person a full-length portrait. In the midst of war, Castrejón also
gave her subjects, some of whom were on the brink of death, a sense of dignity and humanity.”

(left)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Comandantes Maderistas, Coronel Gertrudis Sánchez y José Inocente Lugo,
Teloloapan, 1912)
(Maderista commanders Colonel Gertrudis Sánchez and José Inocente Lugo, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(right)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Tropas Maderistas ocupando Teloloapan, 1912)
(Maderista troops occupying Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

These Maderistas represent the well-equipped ranks of Francisco Madero’s army. Sara Castrejón
photographed several Maderista soldiers in her studio in front of the hand-painted backdrop,
which can be seen multiple times throughout this collection. In the right-hand photograph the
soldiers have a field radio as well as binoculars. If you look closely, you will see that their bullets
and weapons are identical, which was beneficial during battle because in an emergency they
could exchange their equipment with their fellow soldiers. The Salgadistas, who the Maderistas
were fighting in Teloloapan at this time, did not have comparable equipment at their disposal.
 (top)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Capitán Vazquerport, Oficial Federal del 17 Batallón, Teloloapan, 1912)
(Federal officer Captain Vazquerport of the 17th Battalion, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(bottom)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Tropas Federales del 17 Batallón, comandadas por el Teniente Villegas, Teloloapan,
1912)
(Federal troops of the 17th Battalion, commanded by Lieutenant Villegas, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

These images, labeled as “Federal” army, represent the complicated role that the federal military
played throughout the revolution. Instead of retaining the rebel forces that helped him gain
power in 1911, Francisco Madero adopted the federal military that had previously been loyal to
the Díaz regime. Madero used these forces to try to suppress further rebellion. However, the
political chaos that ensued proved to be too far-reaching and the goals of the revolution too
diverse for Madero to hold onto the presidency. The federal army would later be used against
him in a coup d’état by his traitorous military officer Victoriano Huerta in 1913.

(left)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Soldados y enfermeras Salgadistas, Teloloapan, 1912)
(Salgadista soldiers and nurses, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(right)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Tanislao Moreno, Maderista de la costa, y mujer, Teloloapan, 1912)
(Maderista from the coast Tanislao Moreno and woman, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

While many women chose to participate in the revolution through combat, others took on equally
difficult but less documented positions. The women on the left were nurses, who were necessary
in revolutionary and federal forces. Yet, their duties were not closely recorded and they have not
been well-researched by scholars. The role of the unnamed woman featured in the right-hand
photo is unknown. She may have been a soldadera. The soldaderas were women who followed
military convoys; they carried equipment, set up encampments, and cooked for the soldiers. In
addition to their domestic chores, they often spied on enemy troops and carried messages
between factions. Though some women were paid for their work and some were the wives or
lovers of soldiers, many were kidnapped or otherwise forced into providing these services.

(left)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Coronel Amparo Salgado, Teloloapan, Abril 1911)
(Colonel Amparo Salgado, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(right)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Salgadista Fausto Romero y Coronela Zapatista Carmen Robles, conocida como “La
Costeña,” Teloloapan, 1914)
(Salgadista Fausto Romero and Zapatista Colonel Carmen Robles, known as “La Costeña,”
Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

The solemn stares of Colonels Amparo Salgado (left) and Carmen Robles (to the far right)
represent the toughness of many female combatants in the revolution. Both women are
photographed armed; each was well known for her competence in commanding her soldiers, who
were both men and women. Robles, who was passionate about agricultural reform, aligned with
the revolutionary Emiliano Zapata. Salgado was from an upper-middle class family that sided
with another ally of Zapata’s, Jesús Salgado (who was not related to her). The difference in the
women’s appearance is striking. Robles’ uniform is similar to that of her male counterparts; and
she was known for smoking hand-rolled cigars like the one shown here. By contrast, Salgado’s
portrait is heavily staged. The fine dress and decorative hat contrast dramatically with the
bandolier filled with ammunition she wears draped over her left shoulder. Salgado’s feminine
presentation is unusual because she was known to have worn masculine clothing, similar to
Robles. Was this attire Castrejón or Salgado’s idea?

(top)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Entrada de Tropas Maderistas-Salgadistas bajo el comando de Jesús H. Salgado,
Teloloapan, 26 de Abril, 1911)
(Entrance of Maderista-Salgadista troops under the command of Jesús H. Salgado, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(bottom)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Campamento Maderista-Salgadista en las afueras de Teloloapan, Abril 1911)
(Maderista-Salgadista camp outside Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

The Mexican Revolution began in 1910 when the 35-year dictatorship of Porfirio Díaz was
challenged. The followers of the wealthy landowner Francisco Madero, the Maderistas, led an
armed uprising throughout the country in November of 1910. Several months later, in April of
1911, the Maderistas entered the remote city of Teloloapan alongside their local allies,
the Salgadistas. In this pair of images Sara Castrejón has captured the initial military occupation
of Teloloapan.

The first image, from the viewpoint of a rooftop, seems to show the Maderista troops swiftly
overtaking the streets of Teloloapan on horseback. Historian John Mraz notes that the blurring of
the figures nearest Castrejón probably indicates that she did not properly adjust the camera
settings, and was not an intentional photojournalistic technique to highlight the movement of the
figures. In the following image, Castrejón is able to capture the scale of the military camp in a
way that few other photographers of the time managed to do. The experience she had
gained before the revolution in photographing the countryside undoubtedly contributed to this
skill.

(top)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Maderistas-Salgadistas, civiles, y militares en Teloloapan, Abril 1911)
(Maderistas-Salgadistas, civilians, and military in Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

(bottom)
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Lideres de las tropas Maderistas-Salgadistas, fotografía en la casa/estudio de
Castrejón, 26 de Abril, 1911)
(Leaders of the Maderista-Salgadista troops, taken in Castrejón studio-house)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

Pictured are the Maderista-Salgadista allied forces. The Maderistas were the supporters of
Francisco Madero, a wealthy landowner who challenged the dictator Porfirio Díaz in what was to
be a rigged presidential election. Jesús Salgado was a guerilla military commander of
the Salgadistas, a group that stemmed mainly from Sara Castrejón’s state of Guerrero.
The Salgadistas were in favor of radical agrarian redistribution and allied with Madero under the
impression that his presidency would address these interests. Later in the revolution, after
Madero’s reforms failed to devote attention to the concerns of the Salgadistas, the two factions
became disassociated.
SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Tropas Maderistas ocupando Teloloapan, 1912)
(Maderista troops occupying Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

The Maderistas were revolutionary followers of Francisco I. Madero, a wealthy landowner, who
overthrew the long-term dictatorship of Porfirio Díaz to become the democratically
elected president of Mexico in 1911. He was initially supported by both the bourgeoisie, who
had not been able to gain political power during the dictatorship, and lower-class citizens and
laborers, who represented the majority of the population. Madero’s revolutionary troops
occupied Teloloapan in 1911 alongside the Salgadistas, a local southern army that was allied
with Madero’s forces. When Madero, as president, failed to deliver the agricultural and social
reform that the Salgadistas desired, they turned against the federal army. The Maderistas lost
control over Teloloapan to the Salgadistas early in 1912. In 1913 Madero was overthrown in a
military coup d’état by Victoriano Huerta, one of his officers.

SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (General Francisco Figueroa y su personal de batalla que incluye dos miembros del
clan Figueroa luchan contra Huerta, Teloloapan, 1914)
(General Francisco Figueroa and his general staff, which includes two members of the Figueroa
clan in the struggle against Huerta, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

In 1913, Madero was overthrown by Victoriano Huerta, one of his military commanders.
Historian John Mraz notes, “The coup d’état was unacceptable to all those who had risen against
the Díaz dictatorship,” and consequently many revolutionary factions united against Huerta’s
regime. During Huerta’s time in power he instituted a strict draft and overall military mindset
among Mexico’s residents. In his memoir, he wrote, “The school masters, the employees, the
street sweepers, the ministers, the children, the governors, the secretaries, the deputies, all were
military.” The soldiers “from the coast” seen in several of these photos, sometimes so ill-
equipped they were without shoes, were likely conscripted into Huerta’s army. At the same time,
Teloloapan became an important hub for anti-Huertista soldiers seeking refuge from the fighting
to the north of the city. Therefore, Castrejón’s portraiture features many of these soldiers. The
cause of Huerta’s downfall was two-fold: U.S. intervention put pressure on the government; and
in 1914 his army lost several important battles to revolutionaries.

SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Revolucionarios Salgadistas, entre ellos Luis Salgado, Teloloapan, 1918)
(Salgadista revolutionaries, including Luis Salgado, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico
Jesús Salgado was the leader of the Salgadistas, a key force in the revolution in the state of
Guerrero. Despite his position as a middle-class landowner, Salgado was in favor of radical
agrarian redistribution. Emiliano Zapata was the most notable revolutionary leader who shared in
these goals. Their followers were often called agraristas. Historian John Mraz remarks that some
Salgadistas were also known as pronunciados because they “had pronounced themselves in favor
of agrarian reform.” Many factions of southern revolutionaries, including the Zapatistas and
Salgadistas, were characterized as being outlaws and bandits by the state-sponsored media. In
reality, both federal and revolutionary forces committed atrocities. Castrejón’s role in
photographing the southern revolutionaries was key to creating their own visual history and
associating their guerilla soldiers and tactics with their genuine causes. While the agraristas did
not win what had become a chaotic civil war, the new constitution written in 1917 did address
many of their goals. Most of the radical leaders of the agraristas continued to fight for their ideals
until their deaths. Salgado did so until he was fatally wounded in combat in 1920.

SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Coronel Salgadista Adrián Castrejón junto a sus oficiales, Teloloapan, 1914)
(Salgadista Colonel Adrián Castrejón with his officers, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

One of Sara Castrejón’s relatives, Adrián “El Indio” Castrejón, was also an important agrarista
officer. In this photo (first row, center), he was probably just out of his teens and already a
colonel. Later, he would become the youngest general in the revolution and eventually the
governor of the state of Guerrero.

SARA CASTREJÓN
Sin título (Oficiales Carrancistas, General Silvestre Castro (el Ciruelo) y Benjamín Méndez,
Teloloapan, 1917)
(Carrancista officers General Silvestre Castro (El Ciruelo) and Benjamín Méndez, Teloloapan)
Gelatin silver photographic postcard
Courtesy of the Consuelo Castrejón Family, Acapulco, Mexico

Venustiano Carranza was a politician who had supported Madero and opposed Huerta’s regime.
Sara Castrejón’s latest photographs in this exhibition feature the Carrancistas, also known as the
Constitutionalists. These few photos represent the last major military faction to occupy
Teloloapan. The Constitutionalists came from the north and defeated Huerta’s army. After an
interim president resigned, Carranza took over power in the summer of 1914, though he was not
elected president until 1917. He served as president for three years before a member of his own
administration—a former revolutionary consort, Álvaro Obregón—led a revolt against Carranza
for trying to impose his own choice for a successor. In the end, Carranza was assassinated and
Obregón became the new president in 1920. This revolt is considered to be the end of the
Mexican Revolution despite political unrest, nepotism, and assassinations continuing for several
years.
GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Cuidad de México, 1969
(Mexico City)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

This photograph from Iturbide’s early career explores the themes of life and death that became
central to her work. The symbols in the mural—including the skull, tombstone, and hospital
scene—portray death. This morbid background contrasts with the casual woman. If this woman
seems peculiar, it is because she is a wax figure. Iturbide deceives the viewer in this way, maybe
because we are meant to question our perception of life and death. Independent curator and
catalogue essayist Marta Dahó observes that this image works as an “unconscious manifesto, a
beginning that alerts us to the nature of what her work would become: intense, poetic and
hypnotic, though firmly rooted in the real world.”

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Mujer Ángel, Desierto de Sonora, Mexico, 1979
(Angel Woman, Sonora Desert, Mexico)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

This photograph was a part of Iturbide’s series that documented the daily life of the Seri Indian
community in the Sonoran Desert. The title Angel Woman references Catholicism in Mexico and
may evoke a sense of spirituality within the viewer. The expansive desert looms before the
woman, who looks as if she might take flight at any moment. Our eyes are drawn to the figure’s
long, flowing hair, her traditional dress, the natural setting, and finally, the cassette player she is
carryingan unexpected detail within the rural scene. The sense of surprise that this
contemporary element evokes points to the constructed narrative that indigeneity and Western
civilization are incompatible. Iturbide insists that the cassette player can coexist with the Seri
woman and the harsh, timeless desert landscape.

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Carnaval, Tlaxcala, 1974
(Carnival, Tlaxcala)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

In her early work Iturbide was drawn to Mexican festivals. The theatricality of these events
reminded her of the pageants held during her time in Catholic school. This photograph reflects
the ways in which many Mexican festivals merge indigenous traditions and carnival with the
Catholic customs that prevailed in postcolonial Mexico.

The costumed figure is mysterious, standing alone and completely out of context of the carnival.
The man who wears the costume is completely obscured by the mask and women’s clothing,
giving us no clues to his true identity. The way that the vast empty background frames the figure
intensifies the encounter between them and the viewer. Essayist Marta Dahó points out that a pile
of wood is visible behind the costumed person, indicating that there will be a bonfire in this place
later in the day during the celebration. We are practically transported to the moment the bonfire
will be lit. Additionally, the faint outline of mountains farther in the distance are significant
because one of the mountains was renamed by the Spanish conquistadors. The multiple
storiesthe figure’s personal history, the festivals past and present, and the subtext of the
Spanish conquestare embedded in this image.

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Magnolia, Juchitán, Oaxaca, 1986
(Magnolia, Juchitán, Oaxaca)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

The community in Juchitán is characterized by untraditional gender roles in Zapotec culture.

Women are the backbone of society and muxes, a recognized third gender, are embraced and
enjoy greater social mobility than men in the community. Only women and muxes are allowed to
enter the marketplace and play an important role in local politics. In her Juchitan series, Iturbide
took portraits of several muxe, including Magnolia. As with many of her other subjects in this
series, it is clear that Iturbide formed a relationship with Magnolia, who was the subject of both
posed portraits as well as candid photographs. Iturbide’s use of the parallel images of Magnolia’s
profile created by the mirror challenges our ideas of identity and reality.

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Nuestra Señora de Las Iguanas, Juchitán, Oaxaca, 1979
(Our Lady of the Iguanas, Juchitán, Oaxaca)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

In one of her most famous photographs, Iturbide portrays an indigenous woman from Juchitán
carrying live iguanas on her head to the market, as is customary. The placement of the iguanas
recreates a crown or halo. The title Our Lady of the Iguanas reinforces the connection to “Our
Lady of Guadalupe.” This image is in conversation with the visual language of Catholicism and
its relationship to indigenous communities in Mexico.

Our Lady of the Iguanas has become an iconic image of Juchitán where women have prominent
social and economic roles in society. This woman has come to represent the independence and
strength of the Jutchitec women. The Juchitec almost immediately adopted the image as an icon
of their community and celebrate her as their “Juchitecan Medusa.” Iturbide has addressed her
practices when photographing indigenous people, saying, “I want to make it clear that I don’t
work with indigenous people if there’s not agreement and respect…I would never have dared say
to the lady of the iguanas: ‘Come to my studio and I’ll put the iguanas on your head.’ I simply
found her in the market.”

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
¿Ojos para volar? Coyoacán, México, 1991
(Eyes to fly with? Coyoacán, Mexico)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of the Artist

In this self-portrait, and a series of similar self-portraits, Iturbide places a pair of lifeless birds
over her eyes. The symbolism of the image juxtaposes sight and blindness as well as life and
death. In effect, the birds become Iturbide’s eyes; but Iturbide uses the title ¿Ojos para volar?
(Eyes to fly with?) to question the purpose of these new eyes. The image suggests that art is a
way to cope with suffering and death. As Iturbide says, “in life everything is connected; your
pain, your imagination, which perhaps can help you forget reality. It’s a way of showing how
you connect what you live with what you dream, and what you dream with what you do, and that
is what remains on paper.”

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Cementerio, Juchitán, Oaxaca, 1988
(Cemetery, Juchitán, Oaxaca)
Gelatin silver print
Scripps College

While this photograph was taken 1988, birds had been a recurring theme in Iturbide’s work for
almost a decade. Her continued exploration of the topic culminated in the series Pájaros (Birds)
which premiered in 2002. This photo, which features a flock of birds flying above a cemetery,
clearly illustrates Iturbide’s tendency to link death and birds. In her personal records, Iturbide
includes this image in both the Pájaros (Birds) and the Muerte (Death) series.

This image has been analyzed by curator and historian Cuauhtémoc Medina, who states,
“Photography implies the belief in life’s ability to be a succession of poetic moments. While the
ethnographic eye would want us to describe the funerary customs of modern Zapotec culture, the
exotic eye would try to project myth and magic on other cultures. Iturbide focused on the
ephemeral coincidence of this woman carrying branches and the passing of a myriad of birds
above a recent, barely visible, grave.”

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
El sacrificio, La Mixteca, Oaxaca, 1992
(The Sacrifice, Mixteca, Oaxaca)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

This powerful image is from Iturbide’s photo series from the region of Oaxaca in 1992,
documenting the annual slaughter of goats that takes place in the Mixtec mountains. The series
may be a commentary on the colonial history of Mexico because the ritual slaughter has been
repeated since the Spanish introduced goats to the land; it is said that the current farmers are
descendants of the colonial upper-class and continue to hire indigenous Mixtec lower class
people as laborers. The slaughter of the young goat is symbolic of religious sacrifice. Despite the
inherent violence of sacrificial rituals, Iturbide portrays the calm of this particular moment
during the mass slaughter. This photograph reflects the local customs in a way that represents the
intensity of the ritual without exotifying the tradition or passing judgment on the event. As
Iturbide notes, “there’s a sentence from Cocteau with respect to film, but I like it for
photography, too. He says that photography is the only way to conquer death.”

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Árbol con alimento, el Jardín Botánico, Oaxaca, 2000
(Tree with Nourishment, Botanical Garden, Oaxaca)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of the Artist

Botanical gardens became the focus of one of Iturbide’s continuous projects. This subject matter
represented a shift in her career; in this new era of her photography she focused on the
environment around her and the effect humanity has on it. This photograph depicts a tree from
the botanical garden in Oaxaca, seemingly hooked up to some sort of intravenous therapy. It
conveys both pain and fragility. Iturbide notes that she prefers to work with botanical gardens “in
which the plants are healing from some sort of injury.” An air of silence permeates the image.
While these emotions are present in some of Iturbide’s previous work she is exploring them in a
new way through her solitary experiences with the landscape.

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Autorretrato en la casa de Trotsky, 2006
(Self-Portrait at Trotsky’s House)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

At first glance, this photograph of a wall with bullet holes appears to be abstract. The bullet holes
in the wall are a relic from an assassination attempt on exiled Soviet revolutionary, Leon
Trotsky. Iturbide’s shadow emerges from the bottom right-hand side of the frame. Marta Dahó
suggests, “Iturbide uses her shadow to slip into Mexican history. She enters subtly, as if history
were a skin, a surface that could be infiltrated by slithering underneath.”

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
El baño de Frida, Coyoacán, México, 2006
(Frida’s Bathroom, Coyoacán, Mexico)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

Frida Kahlo’s bathroom had been closed since her death in 1954 at the request of her husband
Diego Rivera. When the staff at Kahlo’s home-turned-museum finally decided to unlock the
bathroom in 2004, they invited Iturbide to photograph the space and its objects. While Iturbide
was not a self-proclaimed “Fridamaniac”, as one of the country’s most celebrated photographers,
she was able to capture the last remaining fragments of the life of a woman and artist who has
become meaningful to many people in Mexico and the world over. What Iturbide saw revealed
the signs of Kahlo’s tumultuous medical history, stemming from childhood polio and multiple
surgeries following a trolley accident where Kahlo was impaled, leaving her in chronic pain.
Among the contents of the bathroom were remnants of Kahlo’s physical discomfort and struggle
for health including corsets, medicine bottles, a bloodied hospital gown, and the metal containers
shown in this image. The balance and rhythm of this photograph seem to do justice to Kahlo’s
daily battle.

GRACIELA ITURBIDE
Virgen de Guadalupe, Chalma, México, 2007
(Virgen de Guadalupe, Chalma, Mexico)
Gelatin silver print
Courtesy of The Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson 2007 Trust

The empty mandorla (an almond-shaped light surrounding the entire body of a holy person) in
this frame opens up a space for considering the tension between indigenous culture and religion,
and that imposed by colonial powers. The absence of the Virgin of Guadalupe within the
mandorla serves as reminder that cultural and spiritual imagery can be destroyed and forgotten,
much like precolonial religious traditions were replaced by the Catholic Spanish traditions and
ideologies. Essayist Marta Dahó explains, “By showing the usually concealed internal structure
of the space supporting the statue, the photo reveals how the curved frame, traditionally
symbolizing a door to another spiritual dimension, operates here too as an entrance and a
passage, in this case to another temporal sphere. Iturbide’s picture, however, doesn’t suggest a
remembrance but indirectly summons the historical events to the present. Traces remain of the
preexisting cultural and spiritual imagery crudely eradicated by the colonization process through
which Spaniards imposed their own images of the sacred, their own virgin, and their own system
of thought.”
Tatiana Parcero
Cartografía Interior #7, 1995
(Interior Cartography #7)
Archival pigment print on photo paper acetate
Courtesy of the Artist and jdc Fine Art

Parcero’s body is the subject of much of her work and, in many images, she focuses on one
fragmented body part at a time. In these images Parcero also reveals her fascination with the
theme of layered identity, biological and cultural, which recurs throughout her photographs. In
early works within the Cartografia Interior series, such as #7, #21, and #23, Parcero features the
face, using anatomical illustrations to reveal what lies underneath the skin. The works go
deeper—figuratively and literally below the skin—to reveal what is inside. Parcero’s images
perform a visual dissection to show the body’s complex biological systems.

The juxtaposition of the human body with this imagery invokes the medical sciences and their
history, as well as our search for knowledge as a society. This could be a commentary on our
reliance on modern medicine and our own desire to conquer nature through understanding it.
This way of thinking is popular in the West and is linked to the European enlightenment, an era
in which our knowledge of the inner workings of the body expanded. Overall, Parcero aims to
expose the interior. She believes that her own body is representative of her personal experiences
which are ultimately connected to collective experience.

Tatiana Parcero
Nuevo Mundo #6A, 2004
(New World #6A)
Archival pigment print on acetate and photographic paper
Courtesy of Paula Ely and Cesar Rueda

In the Nuevo Mundo series, Parcero addresses an aspect of pre-Columbian history. In this piece,
the open space of Parcero’s back frames a colonial map. Catalog essayist Esther Gabara points
out that the map is “a European map of conquest, showing the Tropic of Cancer, arriving
galleons, and existing indigenous populations,” but the crucial feature is that the map is turned
on its side. This orientation seems to indicate that the massive changes brought on by the arrival
of the colonizers turned the world upside down for the indigenous peoples due to the violence of
conquest. Additionally, the disorientation of the map serves to question the authority of Spanish
knowledge.

Tatiana Parcero
Nuevo Mundo #16, 1999
(New World #16)
Archival inkjet print and transparency
Courtesy of the Artist and jdc Fine Art
The experience of living outside Mexico motivated Parcero to examine and preserve her cultural
and personal identity. In 1997, she moved to Argentina and shortly thereafter, became a mother.
Nuevo Mundo is a series about these changes as well as her continual work toward exploring and
establishing space for herself in this new home. Parcero began working with maps, as she
explains, to “reinvent my own space within every place I live; in order to avoid losing my
identity.” She superimposes early colonial maps onto photographs of her pregnancy, and in this
way, she merges the past and present as well as what is exterior and interior. A part of the past
that she is examining is the perceived objective truth of the colonial maps.

Tatiana Parcero
Cartografía Interior #43, 1996
(Interior Cartography #43)
Archival pigment print on acetate and paper
Courtesy of Paula Ely and Cesar Rueda

In this series, Cartografia Interior, Parcero began layering her portraits with illustrations and
maps. Though the photograph features an Amerindian codex that is inseparable from indigenous
culture and pre-Columbian history, Parcero is primarily concerned with the aesthetic qualities
and potential for the background image to contribute to her commentary. Many of her pieces
employ maps, depictions of historical events, anatomical illustrations, or cosmological designs
that represented the cutting edge of knowledge and absolute truth to a particular society. Through
the use of these images, Parcero highlights the ways in which systems of knowledge are created,
changed, and later relinquished.

Tatiana Parcero
Actos de Fe #25, 2003
(Acts of Faith #25)
Archival pigment print and acetate
Courtesy of the Artist and jdc Fine Art

Parcero composes most of her works by layering biological, cultural, and historical diagrams
with photographs of her body. Many of her pieces incorporate photographs printed onto acetate,
which is then adhered to Plexiglas, creating a window-like layer. Parcero leaves a significant
amount of space between the printed image and the acetate layer. Through this technique, the
photographs take on an ephemeral quality. As the viewer moves around the artwork, the image
changes depending on one’s perspective. This experience of viewing is both active and eventful.
The Indian henna designs on Parcero’s hands in this piece are semi-permanent tattoos. By
separating the tattoo from her own body, Parcero plays with the idea of permanence.

Tatiana Parcero
Universus #7, 2013
(Universus #7)
Archival pigment print on photographic paper
Courtesy of the Artist and jdc Fine Art
The foot is the body’s foundation and literally grounds us to earth. Parcero focuses on her feet
multiple times throughout her work. While this process of revisiting imagery may at first seem
repetitive, it is effectively a meditation. Through Parcero’s familiarity with her own body, we
can see parallels between her work and our lives, because we also know our own bodies
intimately. In earlier works, Parcero used her body as a way to reconstruct her personal
experiences, but in the Universus series the body becomes a universal symbol for the human
experience as well as nature.

Tatiana Parcero
Universus #27, 2014
(Universus #27)
Archival pigment print
Courtesy of Paula Ely and Cesar Rueda

In Universus #27, the variety of hummingbird species that swarm around Parcero’s torso directly
link the human body to nature. The superimposition of the hummingbirds onto Parcero’s skin
seems to suggest that they are one and the same. This effect furthers her goals of conveying
humanity’s similarities to flora and fauna, emphasizing our dependence on the earth. Parcero has
stated that her concern for the wellbeing of the environment has grown over the course of her
career, especially as her children grow older. In this and other images, Parcero encourages
viewers to recognize the interaction of nature, identity, and the body, as she seeks to inspire us to
become stewards of the earth.