re· i n v e n t · self

How many times do we say: "Later, I don't have time right now"? And of these, how many times did we manage to have the time? To what, and to whom, do we spend the time that we seemingly do not have? And to whom, and to what, do we spend the time that we ourselves make? In 2020, time was transformed in different ways and likewise, our lives were reshaped. The large wooden doors of the Museum were closed on the street of Hidalgo, but far from suspending ourselves in time, we took advantage of various virtual resources to think, shorten distances, converse, imagine, and create. This exhibition is not an exercise in romanticizing the pandemic. Nor is it to judge the development (or the absence) of new skills and knowledge, since we recognize that each inhabitant of this planet breathes at their own pace. It is simply about sharing the experience that we wove with numerous families in Mexico during the period from March 2020 to April 2021.

 When the pandemic emerged, the Alfredo Harp Helú Oaxaca Foundation (FAHHO) had the initiative to generate a project around the creation of popular art. It was worrying to see the empty streets and the consequential disappearance of sales, as well as the latent danger of the contagion. The FAHHO’s proposal contemplated the commission of special works to ensure, on the one hand, income for families that created popular art and, on the other, conditions to continue working from home, that require the attention of the hand-mind-heart on a subject other than the health crisis, if only for a moment. The Textile Museum of Oaxaca, Andares of Popular Art, as well as the Coordination for Popular Art of the FAHHO took on the task of traveling virtually through various areas of the country to carry out this mission.

 In the area of textiles, the creation of products materialized from several different angles. In some cases, Alejandro de Ávila and Noé Pinzón, our colleagues at the Museum, took the initiative to create a series of prototypes of designs for the home: cushion covers, table runners, and curtains. The starting point was to make use of hand-spun yarn made from coyuchi (a naturally brown cotton), produced by women from the Mixtec coast in the state of Oaxaca and in Guerrero, as well as cotton dyed with the indigo produced in Niltepec, in the region of the Isthmus. This undertaking was joined by Mauricio Cuevas, a back-strap loom weaver who currently lives in Milpa Alta, in Mexico City, and Adriana Sabino, our colleague and a weaver from the tradition of San Bartolo Yautepec, Oaxaca. The prototypes and the thread necessary for their subsequent reproduction traveled to San Juan Cotzocón, Pinotepa de Don Luis, San Juan Colorado, and, before long, to Xochistlahuaca, Guerrero.

In other cases, the different projects were accompanied by the advice and feedback of Rocío Vidal, with whom we have collaborated on numerous occasions in giving workshops for artists of the loom and needle. WhatsApp became our fundamental tool for communication. Through this service, drawings with sketches of the proposals came and went, as well as photos of the processes and narrations of the difficulties encountered along the way. Those who had participated in the previous experimentation workshops at the Museum, suddenly continued with these developments at a distance, through text and voice messages, as well as video calls, both one-to-one and in groups.

There were other cases in which the creative process was freer, guided only by questions that served as triggers, which provoked digital conversations full of questions, queries, and personal reflections. This is how I had the unique opportunity to peek through a virtual window into the day-to-day creative and productive process of weavers, dyers, embroiderers, and spinners from different parts of the country. I read Ester Porras's thoughts regarding the moonlight, radiant despite the darkness; also, those of Susana Santiago about the freedom of butterflies to fly and travel; or those of Miguel Ángel Bautista when reflecting on the demands and care (or lack thereof) that we impose on our bodies. In all cases, the triggering ideas were finely spun after following a process of introspection about the impact of the pandemic on personal and family life.

Finally, but for no less important reason, we had other cases where the starting point arose directly from the heart of the Museum: its collections. Among other things, in these archived treasures, we find old textiles with styles that have fallen into disuse and examples that, although they have survived the passage of time, have reached our days with extreme fragility. Some embroiderers were able to see these pieces only through images, as they could not travel to Oaxaca; other people were able to come and physically experience them. The common denominator in these meetings, both virtual and face-to-face, was admiration for the people who made these textiles. Although the initial intention was to get as close as possible to the old works, we are not talking about making copies or reproductions. We could better appreciate these as a spiritual continuity through textile creation, as Crispina Navarro commented while in front of the sash that amazed her.

 A museum is a team effort, both inside and beyond the walls that contain it, where each person contributes their stitches within this great canvas. Opening the collections and offering the possibility of generating and producing, allows the past to interweave with the present and increases the possibilities of preservation not only of the material but also knowledge. Museum storage rooms, those restricted access areas where collections live, are not limited to being protective spaces for these works. The messages, the details, the subtle signatures of each creator, ... in short, all those murmurs that float in space, need people who speak the same language, be it in Ayuuk, that of the loom, or that of touch. The halt to which the pandemic brought us has allowed us, meaning the entire community that makes up the MTO, to explore, be with one another, imagine, and reinvent ourselves.

Hector Meneses

Director

Museo Textil de Oaxaca