Before the event, I was able to talk with Carly Wilhelm, one of the featured artists. An art student at University of Michigan-Ann Arbor, Wilhelm had a piece that was a modern take on the triptych. While traditional triptychs usually consist of a hinged, three-panel piece, this one consisted of three framed black-and-white pictures of her father. The central one was a straight-on shot, while the left and right ones were profiles facing the central picture. There was also an oil painting by Midwestern Puerto Rican artist, Theresa Rosado, whose words and imagery captured what it is to be Puerto Rican and Latino. Hugo Claudin, a Grand Rapids native originally from Guadalajara, used the idea of lucha libre wrestling masks to depict the paranoia and forced anonymity of Latino illegal immigrants. Lastly, Roli Mancera, a self-taught Guanuajuato native currently out of Grand Rapids, exhibited a combination of metal sculptures, as well as a pencil drawing of the University of Guanuajuato and a black-and-white oil painting of a Vienna scene.

After the art exhibition, Laura Geldys from danceRevolution Dance Studio put on a small, intimate salsa dancing lesson. I ended up briefly joining in. Although it has been a number of years since I’ve danced, I was marginally good.  As I watched the remaining participants, it brought back memories of going to the Detroit-area salsa clubs.

Beside checking out the great visual art and witnessing the smoldering salsa dancing, the highpoint for me was capoeira. If you never checked it out, you need to. Capoeira is a martial art out of Brasil. It originated from the African martial arts that were brought by the slaves. Since their masters eventually prohibited their open practice, the slaves then practiced them but under the guise of dance. So when you see it, some capoeiristas provide the musical accompaniment while others engage in the roda, which is best described as a circle where two capoeiristas engage in a type of dance-sparring. It’s very high energy and something that my words can’t completely describe.

Following the capoeira, there was a full salsa exhibition by group, La Vida es Ritmo, and then open dancing with music provided by DJ Sabor.

So all in all, Latino Rhythm & Soul was a good showcase of art produced by Latinos. Fortunately, the cloudy weather held out and didn’t stop people from streaming in. Keep your eyes open and hopefully there will be another event. To keep up on Quatro Entertainment’s future events, go to: http://www.quatroentertainment.com.

Author: José A. Rodríguez

Before the event, I was able to talk with Carly Wilhelm, one of the featured artists. An art student at University of Michigan-Ann Arbor, Wilhelm had a piece that was a modern take on the triptych. While traditional triptychs usually consist of a hinged, three-panel piece, this one consisted of three framed black-and-white pictures of her father. The central one was a straight-on shot, while the left and right ones were profiles facing the central picture. There was also an oil painting by Midwestern Puerto Rican artist, Theresa Rosado, whose words and imagery captured what it is to be Puerto Rican and Latino. Hugo Claudin, a Grand Rapids native originally from Guadalajara, used the idea of lucha libre wrestling masks to depict the paranoia and forced anonymity of Latino illegal immigrants. Lastly, Roli Mancera, a self-taught Guanuajuato native currently out of Grand Rapids, exhibited a combination of metal sculptures, as well as a pencil drawing of the University of Guanuajuato and a black-and-white oil painting of a Vienna scene.

After the art exhibition, Laura Geldys from danceRevolution Dance Studio put on a small, intimate salsa dancing lesson. I ended up briefly joining in. Although it has been a number of years since I’ve danced, I was marginally good.  As I watched the remaining participants, it brought back memories of going to the Detroit-area salsa clubs.

Beside checking out the great visual art and witnessing the smoldering salsa dancing, the highpoint for me was capoeira. If you never checked it out, you need to. Capoeira is a martial art out of Brasil. It originated from the African martial arts that were brought by the slaves. Since their masters eventually prohibited their open practice, the slaves then practiced them but under the guise of dance. So when you see it, some capoeiristas provide the musical accompaniment while others engage in the roda, which is best described as a circle where two capoeiristas engage in a type of dance-sparring. It’s very high energy and something that my words can’t completely describe.

Following the capoeira, there was a full salsa exhibition by group, La Vida es Ritmo, and then open dancing with music provided by DJ Sabor.

So all in all, Latino Rhythm & Soul was a good showcase of art produced by Latinos. Fortunately, the cloudy weather held out and didn’t stop people from streaming in. Keep your eyes open and hopefully there will be another event. To keep up on Quatro Entertainment’s future events, go to: http://www.quatroentertainment.com.

Author: José A. Rodríguez

The unique thing about these mummies is that they are completely different from others, such as the Egyptian or South American mummies. First of all, they were regular people and not of high standing like the Egyptian ones. Secondly, nobody is entirely sure how they were mummified. There are various theories: the climate, the water or the stone crypts where they were buried in. Although the explanations are uncertain, what is certain is that anybody laying eyes on them will be fascinated by their mysteries.

According to the site for El Museo de las Momias de Guanajuato, http://www.momiasdeguanajuato.gob.mx, the mummies were dug up around 1870 as the result of a “burial tax.” The dug up bodies were then displayed in a building. Shortly afterwards, people began paying to see the bodies. Back then visiting the bodies might have been motivated by the Mexican culture of death (i.e. Day of The Dead), now it is more motivated by scientific research.

The Science Center’s exhibit will be divided into five different sections.

Author: José A. Rodríguez

Photo: Renée Gonyeau

As I watched the movie, I wondered why it focused on Guanajauto. Guzmán explained it during the Q&A session following the screening. Prior to working on the movie, she was living in North Carolina, which has a huge population of Mexicans from Guanajuato. Since she kept hearing stories originating from Guanajuato, it made sense to have the documentary take place there.

Many of the movie’s images recall ones of Mexico that are seared into my memory: the tall propane tanks used for cooking, the fogón (crude wooden stove used for cooking), the rebozos (shawls), the little shops along cobblestone streets, the women’s embroidery and the accents that are like the soundtrack to numerous childhood trips to Mexico. When I saw these things, they opened up some sort of wound that I didn’t even know existed. Even though I’m raised American and consider myself as such, a huge part of me is Mexico. While I would never give up my home here, a part of me longs for Mexico. If this is how I feel, I couldn’t even imagine being someone having to give everything that they’ve known for the precarious promise of a better life here. What this movie really captures is longing: the women longing for their men to return and that of the men for a country that they might never see again.

One of the things that I found interesting is how the women earned a living with their more limited skills and little access to resources. Traditionally, men were the only ones allowed to be in the public sphere. Men were allowed to work. Men were allowed to gather. Men could get loans to open or expand their businesses. The women were expected to stay home, keep the house and raise the kids. The women seemingly had less to work with and, in the end, did more with this. Whether it was making rugs, cajeta (caramel made from goat’s milk) or dolls, the women were at least able to provide for themselves and their families.

Often times, the women did better than the men. There was one instance of men having their own business. The man in charge learned weaving from his mother. He found some guys to help him with the business. Things went decently until one of them went to the city and succumbed to its vices. In the end, this guy pissed away the men’s money. Among the women that particpated in the film that had to go to the city to sell their goods, this never once happened.

In the end, Milagros paints a visceral picture about Mexico’s fragmentation. Young people are so hungry to move forward and away, while pinning their hopes on an uncertain and very precarious future. Families are split apart as they try to adapt their traditional values and customs, as well as gender roles, to an increasingly modern world. The men leave for the US to provide for their families but what happens to the families that are left behind? Milagros doesn’t so much provide answers  but brings up the important questions that have not been asked.