Introduction

I was given the pleasure of watching Sandra Antongiorgi, a Puerto Rican muralist, in action as she painted a public piece on the northside of Chicago’s Uptown neighborhood. We had already scheduled a one-on-one interview but, as a journalist, witnessing her in her element (and capturing it) was crucial. If I had not done so I would not have had the opportunity to talk with her colleagues, experienced scaffolders (and artists themselves) who worked for and trained with the biggest names in the Chicago mural scene to date. They were not doing a traditional mural, not painting directly on the wall but on panels to be attached to the outer-side of the building— this was a direct request by the owners: the city. When I asked the team about this they said that this approach was time-consuming. And to one of the scaffolders, Alfonso Piloto Nieves, this change also meant something more: “They [the city] said it was to protect the building, [but for me] it [the change] was to be able to displace us anytime.” 

As a third-generation Chicana Chicagoan, I truly thought I had a grasp of the city’s function but looking specifically through the lens of these Latine muralists in their attempts to access public space for art has uncovered more inner-workings that are actually not so hidden— if you just start asking the right questions. Having grown up in a neighborhood with a historic Puerto Rican presence— particularly notable with the huge metallic Puerto Rican flags staked at the beginning and end of the bustling street, Paseo Boricua—it was very important for me to include muralists of Puerto Rican descent in addition to those of Mexican descent. As Arreola (1984) has found, Chicago is known to be the center of the multi-ethnic movement occurring during the 60s which unleashed a sort of “Latino Cultural Renaissance ” which can be traced throughout the mural pieces produced from that point and onward. (p. 410)

To capture this “Latino renaissance” as it pertains to what current muralists are doing/have done in Chicago, and due to the inclusion of both Puerto Rican and Mexican descent artists in this project, the term “Latine” will be used to refer to these artists more broadly. “Latine” has been the newest term offered for use to those of/or those referring to people of Latin America and its diasporic communities across the world. Both “Latine” and “Latinx” terms work to be more gender inclusive, particularly for the inclusion of Latinas and those within  the LGBTQ+ community (people who are non-binary, gender-nonconforming, etc)—moving away from the more masculine “Latino” identification used previously as the considered inclusive term. These gender-neutral terms emerged in the 21st century, in the early 2000s, with “Latine” being established soon after Latinx as the better alternative for Spanish-speaking communities; those using “Latine” also saw it as a form of resistance to the very gendered Spanish language. 

In Morales’s (2018) recent publication, he describes these inclusive alternatives as a “new force” that has created a “new kind of nationalism crafted around identities of racial difference” creating “hybrid cultural and political practices'' in the process (para. 37). Aparicio’s (2019) study of the intralatinidad identity in Chicago, describes this hybridity or “multiple (mixed) social identities'' as playing a role for “post-colonial subordinated minorities in a globalizing world.” (p. 19). However it is through the lens of a more recent essay by Lopez (2018) that further affirmed the decision to use a gender neutral alternative identification instead of “Latino.” Lopez states that the use of the “X” in Latinx is an emblematic wound from settlement, anti-Blackness, femicides and inarticulation. To heal these four wounds one needs to: 1.) Confront the romanticization of indigeneity and Latinidad 2.) Necessitate the liberation of Black Latinx 3.) Respect, value and honor women and femmes 4.) Recognize that using this gender-inclusive term, no matter how contested as “nonsensical” to language/grammar form, is part of a collective history in which we can all participate in crafting our own visions of Latinx liberation. So, the purpose of using the gender-inclusive “Latinx” or the equivalent for spanish speaking communities (and what I will use in this project) “Latine”  is to align with the current discourse shaping this collective history and therefore collective identity (as ever-changing as needed)—especially considering the focus of this project is on the contemporary murals produced by these Mexican-American and Puerto Rican artists who have completed pieces as recent as August 2024.

In the backdrop of Chicago— with a population becoming more diverse despite or, rather, more clearly indicated through the separations amongst ethnic-enclaves— utilizing Latinidad (Padilla, 1985) is necessary to encapsulate its specific collective and intertwined histories. As reported in the Census Bureau (2021), as of 2021, those that identify as Latino or Hispanic make up 28.7 percent of the population in Chicago. As reported by the University of Illinois at Chicago Great Cities Institute for the Puerto Rican Arts Alliance (2020), as of 2019, 73.3 percent of those who identify as Hispanic or Latino identify as Mexican; 12.6 percent identify as Puerto Rican while the remaining 13 percent encompass the following from highest to lowest in number; Cuban, Dominican, Central American (with its respective countries specified), South American (also with its respective countries specified) and lastly those of Spanish descent. 

Chicago has the third largest Mexican community and the second largest Latine community in the U.S. (Maly, 2005) As early as the start of the 19th century, the Mexican population had grown in Chicago coming to work in steel mills, packing houses and railyards; Puerto Ricans would more largely arrive after World War II. Various areas in the city, which will be dissected further, would become safe havens for Latines. In the study “The New Chicago: A Social and Cultural Analysis,” states the positive effect Mexican immigrants have within the areas they arrive in; the local and commercial districts are healthy and thriving in these places. What is most indicative of this presence is the construction of the National Museum of Mexican Art (NMMA)  and The National Puerto Rican Museum (NPRM). “From ancient Mexico to present” NMMA has one of the largest Mexican art collections in the U.S and is located within the Mexican-American barrio Pilsen. This free museum was established in 1982 with a vision of accessibility, education and social justice as well as showcasing to people (especially to the local Mexican community) Mexican art that art institutions at the time were not addressing. NPRM was founded in 2000 and is the only self-standing museum in the nation devoted to showcasing Puerto Rican art. This museum has a similar mission to NMMA in filling the gaps at art institutions and presenting art relative to the community; it currently resides in Humboldt Park, a historic Puerto Rican community. 

As it pertains to the eleven Latine artists forefronted in this project, unsurprisingly their identifications were mostly nation-specific since Latine/a/o/x usages tends to be utilized in settings that require it such as in institutions (school, public spaces, census/identity/place of origin collections) but also for community-building purposes which, in the case of Chicago, is particularly useful due to the great diversity of the city’s Latin American diaspora. The artists identified as the following: “Puerto-Rican,” “Mexican”, “Mexican-American,” with only two using the more umbrella “Chicano/a” term. The incorporation of a broader “Latine,”“Latinidad” does not exclude the significant histories and continued associations with Chicanismo. In fact, as discussed by Gurke and Ramirez (2021), the incorporation of Latinidad/Latino studies and literature should be looked at as a transition, a “remapping” that is tied with the previous and continued contributions of Chicanismo: “the future of Latinidad is based on the phases of change and re-definition” that “ centers on a shift from opposing powers from outside Latina/o groups and draws inward to the social practices and conflicts within latinidad.” (Gurke & Ramirez, 2021, p. 16 ).

In this work, the Chicano movement and its art/mural movement will be addressed in terms of its reach or specific fruition in Chicago. Additionally, the movements associated with Puerto Ricans such as the ones for or against Puerto Rican independence (in Puerto Rico and the U.S historically) will also be addressed as it relates to the political/cultural elements of the murals highlighted in this project. Exploring the Latine muralists' own expressions of their ethnic-identification and other identities (sexual, gender, racial) through their murals is a specific point of interest in this project to find out how their journeys are explicitly or implicitly intertwined. 

As it pertains to the popularized “starved artist” expression (sacrificing material well-being for art) a career in art is certainly not perceived as the smoothest path. Understanding how these Latine artists, predominantly children of immigrants or immigrants themselves, achieved a place in the field of mural work will be investigated. As reported by Zippia, white people make up the majority of mural artists in the U.S (67.2 percent) while Latines follow with 14.3 percent (Asian-7.6 percent, Black-4.3 percent, Native-0.3 percent). In terms of gender, women make up the majority (62 percent) compared to men (38 percent). Lastly, the majority of muralists have at least bachelor's degree (63 percent),  associate’s (17 percent), master’s (11 percent), high school diploma (4 percent), and other (5 percent). Observing how the Latine mural community in Chicago, specifically, lives up to or confronts these statistics will be addressed at the conclusion of this project. 

As stated previously, due to the various sectors of Latin-ethnic enclaves —as seen with other ethnic-specific communities in Chicago (“Chinatown” with historic Asian presence, “Bronzeville,” with historic Black presence) a result of both segregation and/or de-facto segregation— the association of identity is often barrio/neighborhood specific as well. There is such a protectiveness when it comes to how you identify that your barrio/neighborhood-specific origins seem to be of more significance than just simply stating our ethnic and/or nation specific-identity. In the book by Eva Crcokcroft, John Pitman Webber and James Crockcroft (1977, 1998), they discuss the sort of isolation that can form between the artist and the community during a production of a public art piece. This project intends to uncover the artist to community relationship, but, additionally, uncover how this relationship looks spatially within the Chicago neighborhoods: how is both their art and they, themselves, as artists being received by the barrios they step in…is it always a welcoming experience? Like communication scholar Catilin Bruce explored in her research on graffiti in Chicago, I would also like to highlight not just the art produced but the process undertaken beforehand since, as she states, “Public art and how it is produced is the ideal context to consider the possibility of democratic culture.” (Bruce, 2019, p. 4) So following Bruce’s scholarship, a city-setting like Chicago (popular for its legacy/contribution to street art) makes for an exemplary space to reveal the navigations these Latine artists have to make against the dominant urban design philosophies— or, rather, how they work alongside it. (Bruce, 2019).