THE AGUILAR SISTERS AND THE FOLK ART LABEL QUEENS

            In my 15 years in business and my even more years of collecting, hundreds of thousands of pieces of arts and crafts have passed through my hands.  These pieces are made from every material conceivable and come from all the corners of Latin America:  from the frigid south of Chile to the windswept llanos of Venezuela to the humid jungles of Belize.  I have pretty much seen everything.  Most of these items – upwards of 90% - have no signatures and bear no mark of the person, village or co-operative responsible for their creation.  They come to the customers as anonymous ambassadors of culture, time and place.

            In one of my first paid speaking gigs back in 2008 I was called to talk on the nature of folk art, with a specific emphasis on Mexico.  When I was asked to give this lecture I had no idea what the level of interest in the subject would be and was happy to walk in to 50 attentive people greeting me.  The nature of folk art is based in the “commonness” of the items, I explained, and that the forces that create the art come up from the traditions and folkways of the people.  Unlike fine art, for the most part folk art is ephemeral and not made to last, physically or otherwise.  The pieces and styles may or may not endure while the traditions and cultures behind them continue.

            In American culture we’ve grown up with the idea that a signed creation is a better creation and that if it’s a “name brand” the quality of whatever we are buying is superior.  I haven’t understood how this branding can been applied to folk art, and the thinking seems as contradictory as having a yoga competition, but I guess our culture will take ways of thinking towards one thing and apply it to another.  In the past 20-30 years there has been a growing movement of collecting “masters of folk art” and pieces with signatures and marks on them.  A clay market figure sold by a street vendor in Oaxaca might not be of better quality than another, but we know that anything made by the Aguilar sisters is superior.  Where does that come from?

            Some of this excitement or “demand” has been created artificially by importers or stores that carry the work.  With the exclusivity of “the masters” they can jack up prices and have more sales.   I started to figure this out on a trip to Peru when I arrived at a town that was supposedly dominated by a crafter family (with a common last name) that has been pumped up by a large importer in Texas.   The craftspeople in the town had not even heard of this family.  One of my customers who claimed to collect pieces from these great Peruvian folk artists was somewhat disappointed to hear this story (and was even more disappointed when I did not return home laden with signed pieces).    

To this day I have customers asking for name brands and I do carry some pieces from well-known crafters and workshops partly because they are appealing to me but mostly to cater to the wishes of the customers.  I have had many “label queens” walk through my doors and I myself even fell under the spell of one of the Aguilar sisters, the bright-eyed Guillermina, who was gracious enough to visit my store and conduct full-house workshops in my back room back in 2003.  So, maybe I’m not even immune to being star struck, to some degree (or dropping names?).

My own law of collecting has always been “collect what you like.”  I always say that my business came out of a “hobby that went berserk,” but as a businessman I do have to cater to the desires and needs of the customers, which change over time.  There has always been room for the label queens but I am glad to say that my warehouse space is dominated by the unsung heroes who busy themselves happily in their faraway workshops anonymously.

I Will Never Forget You:  The Day I Received a Cease-and-Desist Letter from the Frida Kahlo Attorneys

 

            Those who are into Mexican art or Mexican culture, even those who have a vague familiarity with Mexico, know something about Frida Kahlo.  She painted scores of pictures of herself – her autoretratos - and her face is unmistakable.  People are divided on what to think of her look with no middle ground:  she was either one of the most beautiful women who ever lived, or, well, the opposite of that.  Over the years Frida has become an icon, and like so many famous people others have ascribed things to her that weren’t really true or have co-opted her likeness for their own purposes.  I have to smile when I think about, for example, when I was down in Brazil in 2009 and I saw a large colorful banner of a unibrowed Frida staked out on the beach at Buzios to mark the place where a Frida admiration society was supposed to have a meet-up (yes, I did go up to them and ask).  Frida’s image appears everywhere, and as a dealer of arts and crafts I have trafficked in Frida merchandise for 15 years, selling objects with her likeness on them pretty much every day.  Today, for instance, I sold a jewelry box with a decoupage of Frida on the lid of the box (being shipped to Illinois, I believe) made by an anonymous crafter from Mexico.  I don’t know who makes a lot of the stuff that I get in or purchase on my buying trips.  From the small villages to the folk art galleries in the larger cities of Mexico, you can always find Frida’s familiar gaze staring right at you in one form or another.

            In the summer of 2010 I checked my eBay listings, which usually number to about 2,000, and I saw that a number of them were missing.  I thought it was strange and was a little concerned because eBay almost never gets hacked.  I didn’t think too much of this until I pulled up my Juno inbox and saw several emails that explained everything.  There were a few emails from eBay saying that the missing items were pulled because of copyright violations and that I would not have my fees refunded for these listings.  There were some other vague threats that eBay made and I was hit with a three month “probationary period” that didn’t amount to much.  I was a little concerned that all of this was happening to me without first having an explanation or without someone asking me to elaborate on whatever issue they had with me.  Then I opened an email from an attorney which explained everything.

            I was selling items that had copyrighted images of Frida Kahlo on them, and even though I wasn’t actually creating these items I would be sued if I did not stop selling them.  The attorney was representing the elderly daughter of Nikolas Muray, a man who had taken volumes of rich color photographs of Frida during the time he knew her in the 1930s and 1940s.  A huge chunk of his work comes from the time when Frida had her first solo show in New York in 1938.  The images from that shoot are iconic and easily recognizable.  They are everywhere.  I sent an apologetic letter to the attorneys and told them that I would comply with what they asked.  I further explained that I was not making any of these crafts myself and that if they were going to try to crack down on copyright infringement they would have a long haul ahead of them, as so many people slap Frida’s face on everything from crosses to flower pots.  I also went a step further and told them that since I do actually do a lot of the buying for my business myself and interact with legions of crafters from around the hemisphere that I would be happy to help out Muray’s estate and let people know they should stop using these images.  What happened after this was quite unexpected.

            The next email I received was from the photographer’s daughter who wanted to thank me personally for doing the right thing and to spread the word.  She lives in a small town in Utah and besides Social Security she makes her living off of the royalties of her father’s work.  I told her that I would do everything I could do to help her.  We sent a few volleys of friendly emails back and forth and she eventually sent me a signed copy of a collection of her father’s photos and letters from Frida titled I Will Never Forget You:  Frida Kahlo and Nikolas Muray.  I treasure the book not only because it was a gift but because it represents to me how a potentially adversarial situation can be turned around and changed to a win-win. 

            I will end this post by keeping my promise and by asking people who are using these images in their work to please refrain from doing so.  There are many Frida Kahlo images and paintings that are in the public domain and can be used in crafts without violating copyright.  There is a woman in Utah who will really appreciate your honoring the legacy of her father.

THE LATTER DAYS OF THE LOTERIA?  THE END OF DON CLEMENTE?

 

                “Don Clemente, Buenos dias.”

                Although I’ve never met her, I have an image of María firmly in my mind.  She answers the phones at the sales office for Don Clemente, the original mass producers of Mexico’s iconic Lotería game whose presses have been running non-stop since 1887 cranking out millions of these games.  María’s voice is smoky, almost sultry, like a film star from the Golden Age of Mexican cinema.  In my head this receptionist is a combination of María Felix, Isabela Corona, and Dolores del Río (for those not acquainted with these stars, they are definitely worth a look-up).  She is usually quick to be professionally cheerful, but over the past few months the lilt has been missing from that raspy voice of hers. 

                While María is quick to point out that my company is probably the #1 seller of these picture bingo games in the United States – and I do sell untold crates of these games – my orders are not enough to stop a downward trend the company has seen in the past few years.  As Mexico and the rest of Latin America go increasingly digital, it seems that interest in this once highly popular game is diminishing.  The Lotería is seen as an older person’s game and a relic from another time.  It’s losing ground to the likes of Angry Birds and Grand Theft Auto V.

                I knew something was going on when this company started cutting its product lines.  Historically, they have sold all sorts of games from finely made decks of Spanish playing cards to Serpientes y Escaleras , which is similar to the Chutes and Ladders game, but with more interesting pictures and situations.  They’ve also sold party supplies like confetti and streamers.  Competition from China and the easing of trade restrictions in Mexico have cut into a lot of Don Clemente’s other businesses.  I’m concerned about their core, though, which has been a staple in my business since Day 1 and has represented an enduring fixture of Mexican popular culture.

                In a phonecall before Christmas I promised María that we would put our heads together to come up with some plans to revive the sagging sales of the game.  She said that the future of the game might be in the United States with an increasing Hispanic population and with many Americans wanting to learn Spanish.  I really couldn’t come up with many ideas other than to promote the game more through my business which I have already been doing.  Should the company create a phone app?  An interactive multi-player internet game?

                I’m aware that cultural trends ebb and flow and what is hot one year is not hot the next, but when something that seems so entrenched in a culture is fading away, I can’t help but feel kind of sad.  I will continue to sell these games as long as my customers want them, but I have a feeling that one day soon I will call the Lotería sales office and the rich voice of María will be replaced by a mechanical “this number is no longer in service” message. 

HOW I WILL PICK TOPICS TO WRITE ABOUT FOR MY BLOG

 

 

            I’ve figured out a way to make myself get into the habit of writing for this blog.  To keep it interesting for both me and the readers, I am going to pick my topics randomly, out of this painstakingly painted fish-themed olla which was made in the town of Capula, just outside of Morelia.  I took the time of writing topics on small scraps of paper and will delve into the olla every other day or so.  I thought a lot about what I would write about and the topics on the scraps of paper include possible tales/descriptions of people, places, the crafts themselves, small business as experienced by yours truly, and personal musings about adventures in Latin America.  I don’t know if this sort of methodology has been used before but I patterned it after a chore jar or swear jar.

            In a few days, I will pick my first scrap of paper and get to writing.  Thanks for following along.

IT ALL STARTED WITH A LITTLE CLAY DEVIL

 

 

 

            I figured that it would be appropriate to use my inaugural blog post to talk about the second most frequently asked question people pose to me after, “What’s your ethnicity?” (or some variation of that).  The question is, “How did you ever get started in the business of importing arts and crafts from Latin America?”  That is a very good question.  I have been importing handicrafts from all points south since 1999 and it has been my sole source of income for 15 years.  Hundreds of thousands of pieces and millions of dollars, pesos, soles, reais, lempiras and quetzals have flowed through me.  I get a nice discount at the post office because I have mailed out close to 50,000 packages over the course of my business (so far).  Sometimes I have to take a step back myself and wonder how I got to this point and what got me started in this.  I have to say that it all began 25 years ago with a little clay devil from Ocumicho.

            In 1989 I spent a semester studying Spanish and Mexican culture at an institute in Morelia, Michoacán, in Mexico’s colonial heart through The University of New Mexico’s Conexiones program.  I was in the centro within walking distance of the magnificent cathedral and all of the major historic sites where everything was made of the region’s hallmark cantera rosa stone.  Every day I lived in Morelia I was surrounded by colorful folk art and centuries of history.  I was a poor student and couldn’t afford much (well, we can forget about the cool leather jacket I bought and the fake Rolex), but I was always drawn to the handcrafted items which overflowed in the marketplaces and were offered by vendors who would set up impromptu stalls in front of the massive stone buildings.  As a center of commerce for nearly half a millennium now, Morelia has always drawn in people from surrounding villages to trade.  At my disposal were some of the finest pieces of arts and crafts anywhere in Mexico.  My first purchase was a little happy devil playing a drum created by a vendor who hazarded the poor roads all the way from the tiny Tarascan (Indian) town of Ocumicho in the western part of the state (more on this town in a future blog).  The little devil cost me 5,000 pesos, which was the equivalent of about USD$1.82 back then.  I vowed that once I got done with school and got my career going that I would buy more of these pieces and amass a collection of Mexican folk art.  I had no idea when I bought that devil that it would lead to what I have now.

 

 

            Christmas 1989 I was back in the States and when I went gift shopping up to Santa Fe with my childhood friend Trent, we walked into a store that specialized in handicrafts from around the world.  I was really shocked to see that the store had pieces from Michoacán, and specifically, Ocumicho.  I was even more shocked to see the prices on the pieces.  What I paid $1.82 for was selling in that shop for $10 to $12 apiece.  In my classes in finance they called this an “arbitrage opportunity,” when you buy goods at a lower price than what you sell them for.  What a great business idea!  Ah, but we have many ideas, especially when we are young.  I finished up my Christmas shopping in The City Different and tucked away the thoughts of arbitrage in the back of my head.

            After graduation I landed a job with a “big nameless, faceless American multinational corporation” and was transferred back to Mexico, this time the country’s monstrous capital, Mexico City.  The job was boring but it afforded me the weekends off to travel, with a three-day weekend here and there.  One long weekend I took a bus back to Morelia and acquired more Ocumicho and other folk art pieces because I now had the money to do so, and I could be more discerning.  I hauled the take back to the States but was soon transferred again to São Paulo, to work at the company’s Brazilian headquarters.  Brazil was another country with different art.  I perused the marketplaces there just as I had done in Mexico, finding many treasures offered directly by the artists.

            I worked for that “nameless faceless multinational” for a few more years before I had made the decision to quit Corporate America.  I had the idea to go back to school to get a PhD in anthropology with a concentration in archaeology, which was a totally different path I was traveling down with my career in international finance.  I always thought the field of archaeology to be my true passion (maybe even now?) and took the entrance tests, took prep courses, volunteered on a dig in Central America, and did everything I could to be accepted into a program somewhere.  I tried for almost 3 years to get into a program but I had no luck.  Apparently, there was a big glut of applicants at pretty much every school.  Because I believe in being prepared, I did have a “Plan B” and that plan was to open up a store to sell folk art not just from Mexico, but from all over Latin America.  Phoenix didn’t have a store like that (and hasn’t had one since I closed down the physical store back in 2009), so I thought I would give it a go.  The thing for an entrepreneur to do when he reaches the edge of the cliff is to jump, right?  With credit cards and money I had banked, I decided to try it.  My store opened on Central Avenue in Phoenix on September 16, 1999 with a web site to go along with it.  I still believe that I was either the first one ever to have a site completely dedicated to selling Latin American folk art on the internet or at least I am the longest lasting.  I am so glad I got my start online so early on, as there are tens of thousands of links and references to my business out there and I was able to grow that part of my business as shopping on the web grew.  I’ve had my ups and downs and trials and tribulations and all that over time, but 15 years – and 50,000 packages - later I still own the business.  I no longer have the brick-and-mortar store, but my company, Sueños Latin American Imports, has endured and has taken me to sunny San Diego where I have a small warehouse and an office with a view.

            It’s been a heck of an adventure.  I have learned and experienced a great deal.  I have traveled to obscure places in the hunt for merchandise and have made many friends along the way.  I want to use this blog to share what I have learned and experienced and to make the crafts I sell come alive.  I hope you will follow alongside me and we can take the trip together.  I also do hope that you find what I have to say, well, interesting and perhaps enriching.