May 2005

Dedicated Frida Kahlo fans who can’t wait until the Tate’s first retrospective of her work opens next week can always content themselves with a little window-gazing at Selfridges in London’s Oxford Street, says Elizabeth Mistry.

Two of the artists’ dresses are currently on display in a corner window.

But don’t make a long detour to see the beautiful Tehuana style smocks and skirts as they are – surprisingly for Selfridges whose windows are usually nothing short of spectacular – badly lit and ill-served by a mock backdrop, designed to represent La Casa Azul, the home in Coyoacán that the artist shared on and off with husband and fellow painter Diego Rivera.

Kahlo owned a large number of traditional costumes from all over Mexico but was most often photographed – and painted herself – wearing heavily patterned or embroidered garments from the isthmus of Tehuantepec in the southern state of Oaxaca.

A number of similar dresses were, according to Ignacio Custodio who works at La Casa Azul, recently found hidden in a room “that had not been opened for many years.”

The two outfits on display in London belong to the Museo Dolores Olmedo Patiño in Mexico City.

One is a deep plain blue smock and skirt accessorised with a stunning pre-Colombian style gold pendant and a much more intricate red and gold embroidered ensemble with a fine-pointed lacy underskirt.

EM

Steve Bridger adds…

The dresses will be on display (corner Oxford Street & Orchard Street) until 19 June, a 3 minute walk from Bond Street Underground station.

Winner of this year’s BBC Radio 3 World Music Awards, Lhasa de Sela’s wanderings brought her and her five-piece band to my neck of the woods earlier this month.

Eager to see what all the fuss was about, Gicela and I packed the girls off with their grandparents and set off for the dim and intimate surroundings of The Fiddlers, in Bristol.

We were not to be disappointed. The elfin like chanteuse left us and the rest of her audience entranced for two hours. A series of rushing encores left us all enraptured.

Lhasa sung in Spanish, English and French. The rhythmic arrangements plumbed astonishing highs and depths. The tempo sometimes slowed so much that we waited on every syllable – each word turned into a faint whisper. We wondered what was coming next, her voice reduced to a thin strand of breath.

Sometimes playful, often deeply sensuous, Lhasa’s trilingual performance was both raw and mesmerising. Her band, especially Mélanie Auclair’s haunting cello, a delight.

Storytelling is central to Lhasa’s performances; her expressive, poetic and suspenseful introductions to each song utterly absorbed her audience.

We left the The Fiddlers at midnight and drove back home in near-silence, drenched by emotion.

I was intrigued to read this comment that Lhasa made on her debut album, La Llorona, released to acclaim in 1997.

“The album’s in Spanish,” she said, “but that can be misleading to people because I don’t consider myself a Mexican.”

Paola Williamson interviewed Lhasa recently for a Querétaro radio station. Once off-air, and on our behalf, Paola asked her about what she remembers of Mexico from her childhood.

“I haven’t been in years,” she said, “and I really need to go.”

“I still haven’t been to Mexico City and I need to go back to ‘my town’ in Baja California, although I’m a bit scared of going back because it has changed so much.

“I talk about the desert a lot in my songs, because it made a big impression on me.”

The ocean and la frontera also left their indelible mark on Lhasa.

“We crossed the border many times as we constantly travelled [in a converted bus] between the US and Mexico.”

During the 1970s and 80s Lhasa spent four years in Baja California and lived in Guadalajara for a further five.

She is nostalgic for the time she spent in Baja with her parents. “I remember Baja very well… I remember a vast beach, lots of space, the wind, the sun. And the heat. I loved horses and I was always on the lookout for one to ride along the beach on my own.”

Lhasa was born in the tiny village of Big Indian, tucked away in the Catskill mountains of Upper New York State. Her birth certificate apparently shows that, back in 1972, she was the first person to be born there.

Her mother, Alexandra Karam, is an actress and photographer; her father, Alejandro Sela, a Mexican professor teaching in upstate New York.

“I don’t have any family in Mexico anymore; my Grandad died and my family now lives elsewhere.

“Now I feel the necessity to return,” she told Paola… ”go back there and continue composing and singing in Spanish. I need to get to know Mexico again. It’s very important.”

A talented artist in her own right, Lhasa painted the detailed ink drawing on the cover of The Living Road. She began painting in her early teens – about the same time she began singing. The imagery, she says, accompanies and completes her music. 

Lhasa is probably unique and the word is spreading fast.

El Desierto (The Desert)…

He venido al desierto pa’ reirme de tu amor
Que el desierto es más tierno y la espina besa mejor

He venido a este centro de la nada pa’ gritar,
Que tú nunca mereciste lo que tanto quise dar…

He venido yo corriendo, olvidándome de ti,
Dame un beso pajarillo no te asustes colibrí

He venido encendida al desierto pa’ quemar,
Porque el alma prende fuego cuando deja de amar

 

I’ve come to the desert to laugh at your love
The desert is more gentle, and the thorn kisses better

I’ve come to the middle of nowhere to cry
That you never deserved what I wanted to give

I’ve come running, forgetting you
Give me a kiss, little bird, hummingbird, don’t be afraid

I’ve come to the desert on fire, to burn
Because the soul catches fire when it stops loving

There is nothing more irritating than the buzz of a pesky mosquito in my ear. On hearing the unmistakable sound, sleep is impossible until…SWAT!

As a frequent visitor to Mexico, I have to admit it’s been a while since I’ve taken anti-malarial tablets.

Mosquito

I do not take my health for granted, but I do allow for complacency to get the better of me – the same condition that organisers of Malaria Awareness Week warn could spell trouble ahead for others like me.

Last year around 5m Britons travelled to malaria risk areas, but 60 per cent did not take the right health advice before they set out. Consequently, around 2,000 get malaria each year; deaths are low but rising.

There is a small risk of contracting the disease when visiting Mexico’s malaria belt – mainly along the coasts of southern states – Campeche, Chiapas, Guerrero, Michoacan, Oaxaca, Quintana Roo, Tabasco and Veracruz. This is especially true for rural areas not often visited by tourists.

According to Professor Peter Chiodini, Director of the Health Protection Agency’s Malaria Reference Laboratory, in the last ten years five people have returned to the UK from Mexico having contracted malaria.

In 2004, there was a single case of malaria among the estimated 400,000 Britons who visited Mexico. That’s reassuring.

Although I often see the little blighters in the mountainous central region of the country (that’s mosquitoes, not tourists), there is, apparently, little risk of malaria at altitudes above 1000 m (which includes a great deal of the country, including Mexico City). That’s more reassuring.

There are two possible choices of anti-malarial drugs for your trip: Chloroquine or Proguanil, both of which you can purchase (in the UK) ‘over-the-counter’ (without a prescription). The Preventing Malaria website is a useful first stop for this sort of information.

Bear in mind that an infant dose of chloroquine varies according to weight. Your doctor will advise on the exact dosage requirement for an infant. I would urge any parent considering taking their child to Mexico to consult their doctor’s surgery or Travel Health Clinic for expert advice.

When in Mexico, I do take some practical steps to get mosquitoes to buzz off and so reduce the chance of being bitten.

If I feel the conditions warrant it, I will use a mosquito net in the bedroom. Gicela and I bought some mosquito netting – pabellón or mosquitero in Spanish – from a haberdasher’s store at the start of our extended visit in 2002/3 and now always carry this with us.

A net is very useful for draping across the top of a baby’s travel cot, or over a buggy while a young child naps. If using on a bed, check there are no holes in the net and tuck it in carefully under the mattress.

There is more you can do to reduce harassment from mozzies.

• Take steps to avoid mosquitoes when they most like to come out and play, between dusk and dawn.
• Use a safe and effective repellent on exposed skin.
• Cover up with long sleeves, trousers and socks between dusk and dawn.
• If you will be staying in a room without air conditioning, try to get hold of a mosquito bed net.

And don’t forget to take the preventative medication, or get lazy like me and take it in a half-hearted way.

If you take these sensible precautions your risk of getting malaria is very low indeed, so enjoy your travels.

Malaria Awareness Week

And finally…

If you do want to get closer to the enemy, I thoroughly recommend Andrew Spielman and Michael D’Antonio’s book, Mosquito: The Story of Man’s Deadliest Foe. Available from Amazon UK, US.

** IMPORTANT **
I am not a doctor. Always consult your healthcare professional before departure.

I was lucky enough to get tickets to treat my friends to see the Mexican screen actor Gael García Bernal, who has made his debut on the London stage in Federico Garcia Lorca’s passionate play of a bride’s escape with her childhood sweetheart.

Unfortunately, some of them were left wondering what hold the perfectly formed Mexican could possibly have had over his rival, who opened the show’s dialogue in a macho posture wearing a sexy vest and jeans. I don’t think the relative worthiness of the two men is the point, though.

The whole point is precisely the pointlessness of the violence of the honour killing, and the relentlessness with which we skid towards the bloody end; tragedy seems as inevitable and unstoppable as a rushing river coursing the dry land.

The Mother of the groom’s lament on …los muertos llenos de hierba, sin hablar, hechos polvo, dos hombres que eran geranios… brings in the portents from the opening scenes, and the pressure gives no respite though the marriage negotiations and the preparations for the night of climax.

García Bernal, playing the distracted Leonardo, was supported by a mixed cast.

In this version, Death is first on stage in an inexplicably camp incarnation - as though we would not have judged that something terrible were going to take place from the Mother’s already portentous words.

Played by Thekla Reuten, the Bride’s Dutch accent was vaguely distracting for a hispanophile (and at times even Gael’s beautiful Spanish-marked English fell into a confusing cowboy-style American accent).

The pathos of the Irish Mother worked better, however, and there was an excellent performance from the Maid, with a beautiful voice almost upstaging the Bride on every occasion.

A nude Moon was a provocative, if slightly disconcerting and uncomfortable interpretation.

The claustrophobia of the setting was well portrayed, as was the use of screens and shadows to convey and multiply action. There were also some unexpected comic moments thanks to a new and effective translation of Lorca’s aphorisms.

In general, the language between the characters is brusque, musical and oblique, delighting in metaphor and earthy allusions. Speeches of love enter for the first time in this love story when the lovers are finally together, already doomed, and even here they are intermingled with doubt and guilt.

Apart from the use of the largely non-Latin cast to stage such an essentially Spanish play, I was left to dwell on the use of the female skeleton on the poster used to promote the play. Is this a play on the Mexican Day of the Dead, or a hint at the skeletons in every family’s closet?

Answers on a postcard, please…

SM

Steve Bridger adds…
The combination of Gael and director Rufus Norris (whose production of Festen at the Almeida was a huge success and transferred to the West End) helped to make Blood Wedding a hot ticket.

Blood Wedding (Bodas de Sangre), directed by Rufus Norris, designed by Katrina Lindsay, lighting by Tim Mitchell, sound by Paul Arditti and music by Orlando Gough.
at the Almeida Theatre, London.
6 May – 25 June 2005

Cast:

• Adjoa Andoh
• Gael García Bernal
• Jason Baughan
• Paul Bhattacharjee
• Daniel Cerqueira
• Rosaleen Linehan
• Hylnur Haraldsson
• Maria de Lima
• Lyndsey Marshal
• Jess Murphy
• Thekla Reuten
• Sue Roderick
• and Assly Zandry.

“For just a few moments early in the morning, while the last of the night’s mists linger low on the valley floor and the moon still reigns high above the surrounding hills, the village of Xilitla, halfway between the two, is at peace.

“Then, slowly, a slash of colour breaks through the cool, crepuscular sky and leaves an outline of burnished metal over the peaks of the mountains on the other side of the valley.

“As if waiting for a signal, the local cockerels and dogs now let rip with a cacophony of crowing and yelping, and the market-bound traffic starts to strain its way through the pueblo.

“The smell of warm tortillas wafts into the streets as doors open, allowing children to start out for the early school shift, and another day is suddenly a little bit older.”

Read the rest of Mexicanwave contributor Elizabeth Mistry’s article, which appeared in The Herald on Saturday.

Kelly Hart and Billie Mercer have both posted some great photos of Las Pozas on Flickr.

Gardener’s Gordon Taylor and Guy Cooper also recently wrote about a visit to Las Pozas for The Daily Telegraph. Keeping it surreal in the concrete jungle.

Visiting Xilitla and Las Pozas? Stay at El Castillo, once the home of Don Eduardo himself.

Many in the US celebrate Cinco de Mayo today (it is actually a quiet holiday in most of Mexico) to the accompaniment of violins, trumpets, Spanish guitars, vihuelas and guitarrónes.

My mind recalls how, three weeks ago, I was serenaded by an eight-strong mariachi troupe in San Miguel’s plaza on my 40th birthday. They approached silently but purposefully from the shadows and doorways of colonial mansions bathed in early evening sunlight. All immaculately dressed in dapper cream pipe-legged breeches and short charro jackets festooned with flashy brass-coloured buttons. Soon, the sentimental lyrics to Las Mañanitas filled the thin air. The third time I’d heard them sung in my honour that same day.

“Estas son las mañanitas que cantaba el rey David
Hoy por ser día de tu santo te las cantamos aquí…”

On some evenings (usually Thursday through Sunday), mariachi gather under the portales that border the plaza on two sides. One or two from each troupe will roam the jardín looking for business. Check out Billie Mercer’s wonderful series of photographs. She captures the mood and bravado beautifully.

Not sure how long this broadcast will be available, but you can still listen to Neil McCarthy’s exploration into the roots of mariachi. The programme first aired on BBC Radio 4 on Friday.

The main plaza – or zócalo - has been the spirited heart of Oaxaca for almost five hundred years, since the city was first mapped out by Alonso Garcia Bravo early in the sixteenth century.

Then imagine everyone’s surprise when a fortnight ago workmen began jackhammering out the paved walking areas, removing all the grass and gutting the flowerbeds as part of a grand “re-design”. The Alameda (an adjacent plaza) and the atrium of the nearby cathedral are also affected.

As the dust began to settle, surprise quickly turned to alarm as the sheer scale of the project became clear to the Unconsulted. To any observer, the visual impact is striking.  

The canopy of towering Indian laurel trees that shade the plaza is still there, although there is some confusion as to its eventual fate. The roots of one specimen were hacked so severely that it toppled onto the Palacio del Gobierno.

The exact nature of the re-development remain somewhat of a mystery. Some reports suggest the previously shady and lush plaza will go the same way as the rather austere garden that fronts the Dominican church of Santo Domingo five blocks north of the zócalo on Calle Alcalá. Others say the changes will be slight.

“What bothered Oaxaqueños was that the first public meeting took place the day the bulldozers arrived,” Ron Mader told me. “The developers underestimated the affection Oaxaqueños have for the endearing, albeit non-endemic, Indian laurel trees.”

Ron will be continually updating his zócalo page during the work, which is scheduled to finish in time for the Guelaguetza festival in July. Locals are more sceptical; even some workmen on the project were overheard to suggest December’s Noche de Rabanos as a more likely completion date.

The authorities seem to have been unprepared for the largely stinging reaction from residents and startled tourists. Work was temporarily halted this week, pending an inspection by officials from the Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia (INAH).

Whatever is in store for the zócalo, city planners appear not to have understood that public space isn’t something that is simply created on the architect’s drawing board, but develops over time as a result of the interaction of complex social and commercial relationships – none more so than in Oaxaca’s main plaza – for centuries a focal point where people of different cultures have intermingled.

Check out Ron’s Planeta.com website, which also features a very handy guide to 30+ Things to do in Oaxaca.