Monday, August 10, 2009

Art from Lake Atitlan


What are the hallmarks of an art movement?
What level of thematic unity and uniqueness idenitify a novel school of art? When Monet, Renoir and Cezanne exhibited together for the Société Anonyme Coopérative des Artistes Peintres, Sculpteurs, Graveurs the perceived spirit of their work was a loose feel of independence and rebellion against the Salon de Paris. It was not until Leroy jokingly coined the term "Impressionists" that a perception of coherent unity was born. This is of course the fault of human nature. We can only understand the complexity of the world around us by oversimplifying it and condensing it in well-delimited terms. In philosophy it is called synthesis. In language it is called naming, putting labels. In science inferring a model. It should be understood as the tragic tendency to reduce the true ambiguity of the real world to abstract white-and-black systems. But these are, in any case, indispensable to the process of learning.

It is precisely through the act of naming that individuality is forged. There is hardly a self without a name for it that sets it apart from other. In art, without labels we are lost in a sea of loosely connected creations, a lawless country where objects, paintings are self-contained and escape any attempt of organized synthesis. With labels, on the other hand, we begin to quickly construct systems of meaning and perceptions of thematic unity that soon build safe boats to navigate that sea, ordered roads to explore that country. The trouble is, once we are armed with labels, how do we choose which requirements need to be satisfied to make up an art movement?


For about 80 years now, indigenous artists around Lake Atitlan in Guatemala have centered their work around colorful depictions of lively local scenery, with a latent presence of inherited Mayan mysticism. Their story is parallel to that of the beginnings of Western Art (which makes sense given the recent colonization of their people by the Western World): paintings were initially made on commission for wealthy patrons, who largely defined the subjects explored. As a consequence, two major themes have traditionally prevailed: views of the lake and depictions of the indigenous folklore of the peoples around it. Both themes share in common the recreation of a truly chromatic experience -in which a full palette of colors is not atypical- but while the views of the lake are mainly contemplative and devoid of human drama, the folklore paintings offer lively scenes with a wide range of human emotions:


While they can be considered as nothing more than pretty landscapes, the views of Lake Atitlan by the local masters are fully inhabited by their characteristic 'chromatic experience' effect. As a group, these works would have an analogous value to the series of 'Views of Mount Fuji' by the much loved woodblock print masters from Tokugawa Japan. But the folklore paintings have an endemic value of their own: they document the awakening of a Westernized artistic conscience among the heirs of ancient Mayan traditions. Perhaps the most original manifestation of this awakening is the 'fruit market' style, a popular genre where subjects trading in a fruit market are viewed directly from above:


Naturally, the artistic upheaval of Lake Atitlan painters mirrors that of the cognate movement among mid-century Mexican muralists, from which it receives considerable influence. Indeed, much like the depictions of indigenous peoples by Mexican muralists, the Atitlan folkloric scenery suffers from a conceptual framing within the ideology of 'Indigenismo'. While it represents the largest organized movement for cultural and political self-determination of Indigeneus peoples in Latin America, Indigenismo perpetuates a stereotypical view of natives as primitive, rudimentary beings plagated by wild instincts and deep superstitions. Traditional Lake Atitlan folkloric paintings fall into this ideological prison, emphasizing the primitive and the superstitious in their depictions:


These ideological missteps have a real impairing effect on the difficult situation of Indigenous art in the area. But one must acknowledge that they largely cater to the general perception of the heirs of Western colonizers who, at the end of the day, serve as finiancial sponsors. After all, one must appreciate the preference for themes that sell well among painters who earn at best $250 a month to support their families.

But time and increasing prosperity (specially benefitting from exhibitions abroad) are constantly pushing the artistic maturation of the Lake Atitlan school. Painters used to the fruit market style have diversified their art and explored novel possibilities:


Some have boldly introduced radical creations that celebrate the cultural richness and power over nature of the Lake Atitlan peoples:


while others have completely broken with tradition and have finally adventured to treat more esoteric themes, including surrealist portraits:


I recently strode along the streets of Panajachel, camera in hand, in search for those modern creations that preserve the artistic tradition of the Lake Atitlan school while exploring novel subject matters. I was captivaded -probably due to an inexplicable attraction towards blue skin- by this monumental nude, unapologetically erotic and decidedly mystic:



It is hard to homogenize the variety of themes and techniques found in modern Lake Atitlan paintings, yet you can always tell when you are looking at one of them. They continue to cater mainly to the specific demand of the market, but more and more they cultivate a style of their own. Do they see their trade as a means of self-expression or merely as a foreign trade they have mastered?

Even if we are tempted to declare 'Lake Atitlan Art' as a blossoming art movement, would the painters internalize such a perception? Would they take advantage of the naming process to forge an ideological identity of their own? The Impressionists were happy with Leroy's term, and only needed to deliver some resignification to forge the personality of their movement. Their own manifesto made it for the Dadaists, reclaiming from the critics a full ownership of the terms used to define and understand them. Who knows what would the masters from Atitlan do. Perhaps one day we will see the climax of lake views that unite both freedom of autonomous artistic abstraction and the contemplative power of an enchanting view.