Teixiptla
Curious about the behind-the-scenes creation of Tēixiptla, a new communal participation installation?
In Aztec ritual, Tēixiptla are fashioned objects that are physical representations of the unseeable divine force. They substitute for this force, giving the weilders the empowerment and strength of that divine force itself.
My new community involvement installation, also named Tēixiptla, engages the participating audience into defining the nature of that force for themselves. Seeking dialogue from all corners of our community, the project asks visitors to answer a series of questions – “How do I define myself?” “What does ‘being Hispanic’ mean to me?” and “What is our future?” – by inscribing their written, drawn, or otherwise expressed responses onto a series of blocks.
The blocks were fashioned from pieces of reclaimed wood I had in my studio, as well as pieces I scavenged from the local environment. I chose to use wood for this project for the connotations it contains. Though it’s easy to shout “Adobe!” or “Clay!” to represent the Hispanic people, I didn’t feel a personal kinship with the material: though clay as a wet medium is infinite in possibility, the final product of clay seemed prone to irreperable shattering, immutable, and dense. Wood, on the other hand, represents cyclical growth. Though it takes some work to shape, the final product is smooth and strong, with a weight to it that is comfortable to hold. Even after I “finished” the shape, there is the potential for new users to continue to shape the material. As I’m talking about the future of our cultural presence, this adaptability and responsiveness to change felt very important in a material choice.
I also chose to make limited edition large blocks for the exhibit itself. While most of the blocks are 1″x1″ – the size of a child’s toy – these are 4″x4″ and provide a larger surface for expression. Additionally, they provide an easy mass to the arrangement of the blocks.
Overall there are about 600 of the small 1″x1″ blocks for the inital exhibit and community efforts, and about 50 limited edition 4″x4″ blocks.
While I cut through all of that wood, I did a lot of test stains, sealants, and surface treatments to decide which would be the best. While I loved the original grain of the wood itself, I just didn’t seem to find a stain that had as much flexibility in color or that prepared a good writing surface. Instead, I just took a lot of wood grain pictures to satisfy that in myself, and decided to use paint.
And now, just to take on the task of handpainting 600 cubes. Yay!
Take it from an expert: the easiest way to handpaint 600 cubes is to watch a lot of movies while you do it. Reel highlights included I am Legend, Lord of War, The Matrix, Little Miss Sunshine, and The Sum of All Fears. Hopefully my taste in art is better than my taste in cinematography.
For the cubes themselves, I chose to paint them in various skin tones. The best part about doing this is that you get to stand in the hardware store and “borrow” paint chips, comparing the skin tones of your friends and other customers to Behr and Martha Stewart hues. Most people are pretty understanding once you explain the art project to them. (For the record, Benjamin Moore would like you to know that I am “Creamy Custard” and “Grazing Fawn.”)
It seems like the decision to use skin tones is always a tricky choice: there’s the risk of that someone will think you are offending someone, creating distinctions, or discouraging solidarity. I went back and forth for a while when creating the installation proposal, but ultimately felt I needed to address skin in particular. Given the fact that people can and do make assumptions based off of visual appearances, and especially given the political issue of racial profiling that is currently a big deal for Hispanics in the Southwest, it seemed naive to not consider this in the work. My choice to use skin toned paints is a commentary on that fact, but it’s also an invitation for people from many backgrounds to build something together. Part of the idea of “being Hispanic” is the understanding that that label applies to many people of many different backgrounds, upbringings, lifestyles, and nations. To have a diverse range of color felt right because I am trying to visually represent a diverse range of people. We are many shades of brown, and so five sides of the cubes praise these unique faces.
The final element is the red bottom to the cubes. I wanted a small, visual reminder that – if a bit morbidly – we’re all the same color inside. Additionally, there is a lot of historical connotation to red relevant to Hispanics, and particularly to those of Aztec/Mixtec descent: passion, blood, and strength. The red face will host the URL or QR code for the website (I am making a few with both), as well as the unique tracking number that will be assigned to each cube.
The final initial production for the opening exhibit was just over 200 cubes in two sizes, in a range of skin tones. I’m a little OCD so I couldn’t help but display them all out first.
As part of the display, I built an “altar” to provide a raised surface to protect as well as showcase the blocks. If there is one thing I might do “next time around,” it would be to stagger the platform into various heights. I found the height perfect for the younger visitors in our audience, but once you had a crowd in the room, a little more difficult for adults to notice. (Then again, perhaps there’s an interesting social commentary to be hidden in that, but it’s unintentional.)
At the opening tonight, there was a lot of encouragement from the Metro Arts Gallery/Metro Nashville Arts Commission folks for people to get involved. Community involvement projects can sometimes start slowly – people are so used to a gallery and art culture where you don’t touch or interact with the work beyond looking – but as usual, once people got the idea, they felt comfortable with the piece. It was fun getting to see people engage with the image, ask questions, and find answers.
The best part was disappearing to scavenge the last of the refreshment table cheese, and coming back to discover that a group of kids had found the piece. When creating the altar and the blocks, I was very taken with the idea of the scale of the piece being the right height and hold for young kids. There is something fundamental to learning that exists in children’s toys, and to see these kids building structures, writing on blocks, and having fun was exactly what this piece was about. I believe that this kind of engagement today is crucial to making a difference tomorrow, and I’m hoping to talk to more youth as this project spends time out in the community. As it was, I spent some time at the opening sitting and talking with a few of the kids; apparently when it comes to art, it is amazing to kids both that the answer to “this is your artwork?” is answered by “Well, it’s both of ours, now!”, and that I am apparently ”waaaaaay older than even [her] sister!”
The exhibit is hosted in the Metro Arts Gallery, located on 800 South 2nd Ave, in Nashville, TN, open Monday through Friday from 8:30-4:30. It runs from today, August 19th, to October 7th, 2011, and as responses begin coming in, you’ll also be able to view them online, submit your own responses, and learn more about the project at the Tēixiptla website. I’ll also be taking blank blocks out into the Hispanic and youth community as the exhibit continues, hoping to reach people who might not choose or be able to go to a gallery in person.
After the close of the exhibit, the completed blocks will be mailed around the world to various artists and community centers, encouraging people to continue to add to the discussion. Some of these blocks are available for purchase, but I will also be shipping a limited quantity of starter kits for groups interested in hosting a Tēixiptla community project, taking the project in a new direction (think new media, poetry performances, and art pieces!), or otherwise making it their own. If you or your organization is interested in applying to receive a starter kit, or would like more information, just ask! We’d love to know what you’re up to.
Be well, Nashville, and come out and see us.















