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COLLAGE IMAGERY Enrique Chagoya Enrique
Chagoya is a Mexican-born
painter and printmaker who has been living and working in this country since
1977. Former director of the Galería de la Raza in San Francisco, he
has curated exhibitions at the Drawing Center, New York, and the Mexican Museum,
San Francisco, among others. His recent shows include the De Young Museum, San
Francisco, and David Beitzel Gallery, New York, as well as "American Stories," now traveling in Japan. His book works are represented in the collections of
the Library of Congress and the Whitney Museum of Contemporary Art, among others.
Enrique is the recipient of numerous awards and fellowships, including two NEA
Fellowships and a Tiffany Foundation Award. He currently teaches at Stanford
University.
I do not know of any other artist's work that I identify with as much
as the work of Guillermo Gómez-Peña.
In very general terms, what I do in visual art, he does in performance and/or
writing. We mirror each other's work in different artistic languages. Perhaps
the experience of growing up through similar political and cultural contexts
both in Mexico and in the US has had an impact on the development of our similar
concepts. The differences in our work are only in form, not in content. For
Guillermo, the word, the voice, the music, the sound and the performance are
some essential raw materials in his world of cultural hybrids and political
collisions. In my work, the visual, non-verbal symbolism precedes text. I am
most interested in non-alphabetic writing, as is demonstrated in pre-Columbian
books. The writing in the few existing
pre-Columbian books is pictographic/phonetic and, in the case of Mayan books,
abstract/hieroglyphic. Many Western linguists have based their theories on evolutionist
dogma and/or colonialist bias, and have ignored the pre-Columbian writing as
pre-phonetic or pre-alphabetic. For me, the pre-Hispanic books are not better
or worse than post-colonial books, they are just a product of a specific time
and place in history. There is evidence that they were as precise for the cultures
that created them as contemporary books are for us. In today's world we
rely on non-verbal and non-alphabetical languages in many important fields.
In music, mathematics, traffic signs and maps, text is an accessory to the visual
model because alphabetical/verbal language is not enough to communicate the
complexity of the subject matter. These forms of texts are clear, precise, concise
and profound in many cases. I see the ancient books of Mesoamerica in this light.1 Very few books survived
the bonfires of the conquistadors. Today only twenty-two pre-Hispanic codex
books remain, along with fifty-four others written right after the conquest
war by indigenous book artists who were witness to the destruction of their
world. The twenty-two surviving books are Mixtec-Zapotec (Oaxaca area), Mayan
(Yucatan peninsula/Central America) and Nahua, some of these of Aztec origin
(the Aztecs are one among many Nahua groups in central Mexico). The most tragic
story is told by Fernando de Alba Ixtlilxochitl, a baptized Aztec noble, in
which he describes the destruction of the Texcoco library built by King Nezahualcoyotl,
the poet/architect king who opposed human sacrifice. King Neza built the library
in the second half of the fifteenth century, a few decades before Columbus arrived
in the Caribbean islands. The library of Texcoco was housed in a very large
building with dozens of rooms filled with thousands of books of religious, poetic/artistic,
medical, calendarial and historic information as well as accounts of yearly,
monthly and daily events in the lives of the Aztec people and surrounding cultures.
When the Spanish priests and soldiers piled all of these books up and burnt
them in huge bonfires, there was a massive indigenous suicide. The surprised
Spaniards were unable to stop the Indians from hanging themselves or jumping
from high pyramids and cliffs. This kind of story is not included in most textbooks
of Western History. History, it has been said, is written by those who win the
wars. Yet, there is always the other's History. In this context, history
is an ideological construction, more than a science.2 In my codex book concept, I have decided that I am entitled to my own ideological construction. I tell the stories of cultural hybrids, of political collisions of universal consequences, just like Guillermo, but in my case with little or no use of text. The CODEX ESPANGLIENSIS is the first book I have worked on in which the text is as important as the images. Just as in my other book work with Guillermo (Friendly Cannibals, San Francisco: Artspace Books, 1996), ours is a sort of a non-collaborative collaboration, is more of a happyyet accidentalarrival at the same place. I am not illustrating his text and he is not analyzing my imagery. It is more like we are playing a duet with counterpoint. Felicia Rice is the conductor without whose artistry this book would not have been born. In a very humble way, I do not feel that I am making any contribution to Mexican and Chicano aesthetics or to any aesthetics. I just feel very lucky to get away with what I like to do best, and to be sharing the talent and hearts of two extraordinary partners in crime, Guillermo and Felicia. Enrique Chagoya
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