NICOLAS DE JESUS |
THEIR limbs crisscrossed at wild angles, their mouths puckered around toothless gums, their eyes deep black pools — the grinning skeletons in Nicolás De Jesús’s etchings are busy. Some are riding the subway, some are meeting in a cafe or attending an art opening, and others, throngs of them, are gathered to partake in Día de los Muertos, the Mexican celebration of the Day of the Dead.
All of the pieces are etchings printed on amate, a fibrous, taupe-colored paper made from tree bark that was used by indigenous societies in the pre-Columbian period to produce sacred manuscripts. Mr. De Jesús was introduced to his craft by his father, an artisan, in the Nahua village of Ameyaltepec, in the state of Guerrero, where he was born in 1960. “To know that my ancestors painted on amate during the pre-Hispanic era has made me value it,” he wrote in an e-mail that was translated from the Spanish. Besides reveling in daily life and rituals, some of Mr. De Jesús’s skeletons address more troubling issues, like illegal immigration and the corrupting power of money. These exemplify the influence of José Guadalupe Posada, a 19th-century Mexican political illustrator who used animated skeletons to convey his messages. Five works displayed in a vitrine were created in 1990, when Mr. De Jesús was living in Chicago. A second vitrine holds eight small etchings from 2008 that include a few intimate images of skeletal lust. Seven framed prints on the wall depict scenes ranging from a Balinese wedding to a genetically modified ear of corn swarming with rats and worms. |