In one day, not only did Steve and I get to see three distinct types of popular art, but we also got to meet the artists and ask them all kinds of questions while they demonstrated their crafts. It was also pretty much free. This probably should not be allowed as these artists definitely have more important things they could be doing with their time. Like managing the households that depend on them for income, preserving their endangered ancient culture, or organizing with their artisan neighbors in the underserved communities in which they live. Nevertheless, for a few hours each, we had Don Isaac Vasquez Gutierrez, Doña Sofia Reyes, and Don Magdaleno to ourselves.
Don Isaac Vasquez Gutierrez, Master weaver
Don Isaac welcomed us to his studio and shop in Teotitlán del Valle, 25 km outside Oaxaca, and got right to work demonstrating the steps of indigenous textile-making. He started with two baskets filled with thick clumps of sheep's wool in two different colors - dark brown (from a "black sheep") and white. He showed us how to to card the wool - which I tried with minimal success - and how the two colors could be combined to create different shades of gray. Then he showed us how to spin the wool - which I tried with even less success. The most fascinating part was learning how wool has been dyed naturally for thousands of years. We examined chunks of "oro azul" (blue gold), indigo that is produced in Perú and must be purchased at high prices. Then, Don Isaac brought us over to a very sorry-looking potted nopal cactus. Its problem, evidently, was that it was covered in small white fuzzy pests called cochinilla. He plucked a few of the bugs and crushed them in his palm; an astoundingly bright red exploded against his skin. I gasped at the gore, but he assured me it was not blood. Rather, the carbonic acid of the nopal combines with a chemical in the insect's body to create the color. Then, he squeezed lime juice into his palm to change the red to orange. After that, he sprinkled some chalk on top and changed the color to purple. To add to this range of colors, he showed us the moss that's used to dye wool a s
ubtle yellow and the wild marigold that's used for a brighter yellow. He also showed us how yarn submerged in indigo first turns green then slowly oxidizes to blue when brought into the air. The final step was the weaving which he deftly demonstrated on an enormous loom. Prehispanic weavers would have probably used back-strap looms, but these larger looms allow artists to creat
e enormous tapetes (rugs) with incredibly complex designs. When we visited his shop, I couldn't stop gasping at the depth of colors, the variety of precolonial and modern patterns, the complexity and originality of the designs. Steve and I left with two pieces (a small tapestry featuring a garden under an indigo sky and a bright pillow cover with geometric zapotec patterns) and a profound appreciation for the many layers of artistry and science that went into their creation.Doña Sofia Reyes, Master potter
In San Bartolo Coyotepec, we walked through a dark shop lined with shelves of black pottery to an open dirt yard. There, we encountered a small, wizened woman with long dark braids and a wiry voice. Doña Sofia is 92 years old and has been practicing pottery since she was 8. She shepherded us to a few small benches and went methodically to work . From under a tarp, she revealed a mound of brown clay and pulled off a sizable chunk. She had wet a patch of concrete by shaking water from her fist, and she threw the clay to the concrete. Then, she sat on the ground, 
curling her feet under her. Her hands took over, crafting the lump of clay into a pitcher in under five minutes. The only tools she used were two clay plates, set on top of each other to act as a potter's wheel. I could hardly believe my eyes. Afterward, she showed us where she fires the pottery - in a pit in the back of the yard - to turn it black. The final products ranged from pitchers to candelabras, most of them carved with intricate patterns of negative space. Steve and I bought a candle-holder, imagining the way candlelight will shine through a web of black clay. 
I took great pains to insulate it from damage on the way home, then shattered it the next day when I tossed a book on the table (Eeek! I felt terrible!). So, either I'll be visiting Doña Sofia again or I'll be buying another black candle-holder made by someone younger and undoubtedly less graceful than her! Don Magdaleno, Master carver
In San 
Martín Tilcajete, two little boys, faces smeared with chocolate, greeted us at the entrance to their family home. Upon seeing us in their backyard, one ran off crying and the other smiled up at us broadly without saying a word. Don Magdaleno appeared, and led us into his workshop - a concrete patio under a roof that extended out from his one-story house. He showed us a piece he has been working on for several months - a tangle of monkeys and lion limbs all carved from the same hunk of wood. He showed us one such hunk of wood and explained that he imagined a roadrunner t
hat could be coaxed out from inside it with the help of a machete and few carving tools. Don Magdaleno was soft-spoken, gentle and deliberate with both his words and his pieces. He seemed perfectly suited to the task of coaxing wild animals out of wood. He also shared with us that he and his wife had just had a baby girl, and I noticed that he had fashioned a hanging cradle that was strung from the ceiling of his workshop. His wife joined us, bringing out the finished pieces which he had carved and she had painted. The painting was incredibly detailed; delicate geometric patterns complicated a jaguar's fur or stretched across a tortoise's neck. Subtle contrasts of color made the animals seem 
realistic and dream-like at the same time. There was a snail as small as a fingernail, and roosters that battled on the shoulders of an Aztec warrior. Many of the figures were depictions 
of nahuales, ancient spirit animals that allowed humans to borrow their unique traits. This couple's patience, 
imagination, and talent has spawned a managerie of alebrijes; I hope the little creatures will find their way into the homes of tourists (or even better - museums) around the world and will bring in the money the family needs to raise their baby daughter.
Martín Tilcajete, two little boys, faces smeared with chocolate, greeted us at the entrance to their family home. Upon seeing us in their backyard, one ran off crying and the other smiled up at us broadly without saying a word. Don Magdaleno appeared, and led us into his workshop - a concrete patio under a roof that extended out from his one-story house. He showed us a piece he has been working on for several months - a tangle of monkeys and lion limbs all carved from the same hunk of wood. He showed us one such hunk of wood and explained that he imagined a roadrunner t
hat could be coaxed out from inside it with the help of a machete and few carving tools. Don Magdaleno was soft-spoken, gentle and deliberate with both his words and his pieces. He seemed perfectly suited to the task of coaxing wild animals out of wood. He also shared with us that he and his wife had just had a baby girl, and I noticed that he had fashioned a hanging cradle that was strung from the ceiling of his workshop. His wife joined us, bringing out the finished pieces which he had carved and she had painted. The painting was incredibly detailed; delicate geometric patterns complicated a jaguar's fur or stretched across a tortoise's neck. Subtle contrasts of color made the animals seem 
realistic and dream-like at the same time. There was a snail as small as a fingernail, and roosters that battled on the shoulders of an Aztec warrior. Many of the figures were depictions 
of nahuales, ancient spirit animals that allowed humans to borrow their unique traits. This couple's patience, 
imagination, and talent has spawned a managerie of alebrijes; I hope the little creatures will find their way into the homes of tourists (or even better - museums) around the world and will bring in the money the family needs to raise their baby daughter. 
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