September 27th at Echo Contemporary Art
The opening night of the “Homesick” Exhibition by Nuestra Creación (ran by Patricia Hernandez) delivered a bittersweet experience full of nostalgia, gratitude, and community. More than thirty artists embraced the Latin community through their work at Echo Contemporary Art. The collective identity of the artists brought intentional art pieces that triggered core memories for any person growing up in a Latin household/community.
Whether it was the softness of Julian Gonzalez Diaz’s piece “Concha (Pink)” or the eccentricity of Diana Lopez Garcia’s photos that captured unos antojitos like Tostilocos or un esquite con Hot-Cheetos, multiple artists channeled comfort food to be eaten with the eyes and fill the soul.
The countless times these items were easily accessible made me miss back home, but also made me appreciate how impactful food is in the Latin cosmology.
The exhibit followed through with tasteful exposure by having Lupe’s Catering provide tacos for a heightened experience so authentic that it was prepared by hands of Patricia’s jefita. Even though I was late to getting some tacos, I saw there was some masa left over, an almost empty bottle of homemade salsa, and the ethereal aura of a latin mother. Unos tacos de queso fresco and un vaso de consome was prepared just for me.
Shout out to Sandra and Lupe for the nutritional care that is reminiscent of my Jefa, my tias and tios from back home.
Curated music from Anna-Frida’s extensive vinyl collection flowed throughout the gallery and brought warmth so strong that many people expressed themselves through dance, smiles, and hugs. I admire her skillful ear. She easily pinpointed sounds that transcended generational music and emphasized the timeless attraction of music; feel. My recent music genre transition from punk rap to souldies felt affirmed when Anna-Frida played Over and Over by The Altons. I briefly shared this realization with her and she even gave me some lore on Jensine Benitez and Thee Sacred Souls’ musical partnership. Lovely music from a lovely DJ.
A beautiful view of many colors and shades on and off the wall. On one of the walls hung a couple alters, some paying respects to loved ones like Selena Quintanilla and Ahmaud Arbery. A heartfelt display (from artist Raz) surrounded by the abundance of life in the gallery reminded me that we must keep the same conscious energy when acknowledging those with us and those who have passed onto the other side. Raz’s alter pieces also revealed community does not stop at physical presence.
This was not the first time I encountered Raz’s work. I was first introduced when I passed by the Rey Pachuco mural on Ralph D. Abernathy Blvd while participating at Atlanta Streets Alive on September 15th. The size of el Rey Pachuco cannot go unnoticed when going down the street, and neither Raz’s captivating style which poses an immediate viscousness that commands attention to first impressions. But holding the gaze long enough uncovers a hint of tenderness.
It was Nina Gonzalez Rubio’s "Release" that held my gaze the longest that night. I circled back two more times in hopes I would find Nina and tell her how much I connected on a profound level with the depiction of a genderless person in mid self-expression melting above a grid, but not through the grid. On my last sight of the piece, I looked to my left at another person who was also observing and they asked me if I was looking for the artist (Nina might have been tipped by the curator who I mentioned my interest on "Release").
I use to try a lot to keep my form aligned with the standards of society, but my soul always craved more than what I allowed myself. I began to understand what I could do outside of those boundaries and contextualized my image by assigning categories. I now embrace the fluidity of chasing all of my interests and allowing any sort of self expression over the security of a conditional pattern. It comes at the cost of never being fully interpreted to any individual title that potentially holds weight to my being. What cannot be taken away or denied from me is where my family comes from, how I grew up, and what I practice.
The Homesick exhibit on opening night was familia in a city, a state, where no other Isidoro Saldivar lives or has ever lived. It encapsulates the sense of community Latin members have engrained in them (something heavily prominent back out West) and celebrates the contributions of nuestra gente with those who appreciate us.
Bittersweet: sweet in the way that I have discovered a significant amount of Raza to engage since my 3 years in ATL, bitter in the way that a notable portion of my identity may not be this easy to celebrate once Latin/Hispanic Heritage ends.
It is an intimate space I will be back again to enjoy.
