The role of art within the contemporary political landscape has always been that of the mediator in the argument between History and Biography. The Arts of Resistance exhibit at the Museum of Anthropology perfectly encapsulates this idea in the multitude of artworks it presents, each unique in its retelling of personal and societal histories. The significance of this particular collection was made apparent after the class viewing of Sarah Polley’s ‘Stories We Tell.’ Although superficially distinct art forms, the MOA exhibit and the film bore a resemblance in their common goal to recount a story shared by a community. However, whilst Polley’s work dug to unearth the truths of Polley’s identity at the heart of her family history, Arts of Resistance examines the oppressive narrative in the history of a whole people to derive an expression of resistance. Specifically, El Codice de Ayotzinapa (Ayotzinapa Codex) is an excellent example of an artwork that uses traditional artforms to associate historical resistance and contemporary struggles thereby encouraging socio-political agency in redefining history.
Curated by Laura Osorio Sunnucks, a postdoctoral fellow at the Museum of Anthropology, the exhibit explores how the folkloric art of marginalized, Indigenous populations of South America (Guatemala, Perú, México, El Salvador and Chile) represents contemporary Latin American politics and resistance. The collection is thought to be influential in recognizing the emergence of twenty-first century Latin American Art as socio-political commentary. Essentially, El Codice de Ayotzinapa is a demand for justice as it was drawn up by the Instituto National de Antropologia e Historia in an effort to show solidarity with the people of Ayotzinapa. A series of fifteen panels recount the disappearance of 43 students from Rural Normal School Raúl Isidro Burgos of Ayotzinapa in 2014. The kidnapping was believed to be the work of a drug cartel colluding with state authorities.
This contemporary conflict between the Mexican peoples and their Government becomes a metaphor in the Codex with the Mexican Government represented as the Spanish overlords and the People as the Aztec warriors. In a formulaic fashion, the Codex lists the crimes of the State against its people: the sale of gold and silver to the empires of North America and Europe, the reestablishment of slavery through forced labour and the murder of Indigenous leaders. It is also reminiscent of pre-Hispanic codices in its incorporation of Mesoamerican iconography, use of kfrat paper and coffee color and its adherence to the prescribed dimensions. The result of these techniques is a deliberate link between the archaic and the modern, drawing a parallel between the struggles of pre-Hispanic Mesoamericans and the Spanish conquest with the emergence of Neo-colonialism in Mexico. Further, it allows a broader commentary on the general mistreatment of the Indigenous in Mexico and the endemic culture of violence by tracing a pattern of conflict in their history. The reclamation of traditional artform can also be thought of as a conscious response to the homogenization of cultures resulting from globalization. In reproducing a historical form of art to tell a contemporary story, the artist attempts cultural preservation and inspires his audience by demonstrating the power of collective solidarity throughout their national history.
However, that is not all the Codex is. It is a memorial because it specifically acknowledges the trauma of the families and victims of the disappearance and the proceeds from its sale went to families of the disappeared. It is a social artwork and contemporary because it also incorporates European iconography and was colored in by families and children, making it a collective piece. The Codex then becomes multi-dimensional and paradoxical, simultaneously telling the stories of individuals and a society and conciliating History and Biography through its use of traditional art forms. Resultantly, the Codex also celebrates the intimacy and intricacy of the relationship between the artist and their society or audience. The form, process, and personality of the artwork fundamentally test the boundaries of the artist’s role as creator, biographer, activist, and storyteller of both their own and shared realities.
Ultimately, the purpose of the Codex is both cathartic and political. It epitomizes the power of traditional art as an assertion of communal identity, recognizes personal and shared history and calls for socio-political change. The Codex challenges the assumption that our society has sauntered past the epoch of abhorrent human rights violations and recognizes the cyclical ability of history. More than an attempt to force us to recognize history as it is being written, the use of traditional art forms to display contemporary political realities provokes us to redefine and rewrite our present.