By now you are sure to have seen the posters. The red and gold colors of the painting contrast with the black background. "Tesoros/Treasures/Tesouros" they declare, each word piled one on top of the other. But which one is the true name? Is it the Spanish, the English or the Portuguese (and where is the Native American)? Impossible to say.
Tesoros, or "Treasures" in English, functions because of the constant juxtaposition of these elements. An impressive exhibit of Latin American art currently appearing at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, Tesoros masterfully positions the objects on display to visually recount the story of Spain's influence on Latin America in terms of its cultural, religious and artistic traditions.
Yet this should not be confused with the kind of repressive domination found in English, Dutch and French colonial societies. On the contrary, the art presented is beautiful largely because it is so distinctly Latin American.
As the initial placard explains, "Indigenous forms and methods not only survived with remarkably sophisticated evolution, but were also transferred into nimble innovations to meet new requirements and purposes."
Profoundly influenced by the unique heritage of the region's native inhabitants, the art nevertheless acquires a new identity in the eyes of the American museumgoer (hence the three-pronged title, "Tesoros/Treasures/Tesouros," not simply "Tesoros/Tesouros").
The pieces showcased date from Columbus's arrival in the so-called "New World" in 1492 through 1820. While paintings comprise the majority of the items presented, other mediums abound, ranging from sculptures to a funerary table to a wardrobe and a folding screen. Works come from public and private collections throughout America and Europe, a combination which enables the evocation of mestizo, or mixing, as a unifying concept.
This synthesis is twofold; Christian ideology infuses Latin art as Latin symbols take on new meanings when introduced into Christian imagery. Who would think that a feathered hat could become a tool of Christianity? Or that the Virgin of Guadalupe could stand in for the Virgin Mary?
One technique of singular interest, enconchado, involves tiny, irregular fragments of mother of pearl which are then encrusted onto wooden support and covered with a glaze of transparent oil paint so that the subject seems to glow. Despite enconchado's being specific to Latin America, artists employed it as a means to depict classic religious scenes - talk about rolling with the times.
Audio headsets (which have suddenly become ubiquitous) are included with the cost of admission and, taking a cue from the exhibit's theme, they are available in both English and Spanish.
At the entry to the second gallery, there's a map of Mexico. At the center is the cathedral at Mexico City. Bubbles representing the various native tribes radiate out from the cathedral, each with their respective language noted.
Looking at the map, it all makes sense. Here is this map drawn by a Spaniard to encapsulate the lives of a people whom they had previously had little to do with and now see as a target for proselytization. And still, some semblance of fundamental diversity remains.
But then, I conclude the exhibit in the gift shop, surrounded by pottery, dolls and Christmas ornaments. And I have to chuckle, there's no doubt that this is America.