You cannot overstate the importance of the Zóaclo, sometimes called Jardine. It is central in all villages, towns and cities in Mexico. In cities there is a Zóaclo principal, as well as many Zóaclos in the barrios. When you enter the city the road, most likely, will take you to the Zóaclo, and another road from the Zóaclo will take you away, out of town.

During the early hours of the day it is less lively, it stays that way until the vendors arrive with carts, and the newspapers are sorted out and stacked on the low wall that surrounds the park Then they come, first the old men with no other place to go and sit, then the gringos of the town, looking for a friendly face, and to buy The News, and later on, mothers with children in tow. If tourists are in town, they move in and out, looking at bulletin boards, and just wandering about.

Conversation at the Jardine

In the early evening hours the young people arrive; classes having ended at school they gather in the park to exchange jokes and pleasantries and to flirt, walk about, circle the park sometimes hand in hand, girls with girls boys with boys, then boy and girl together here and there, sitting, walking, talking at the jardine.

With still no empirical proof on hand I still assert that in the USA we don’t make great use of our parks. Many America parks are unsafe, taken over by drugs; derelicts thrive and many parks in the USA are not cared for at all. We are a people on the move, autos everywhere. There is more foot traffic in Mexico, less cars, better connection between cities, more public transit (thank god) a feeling of connection; in the USA, there is a sense of separation, more so, as suburbs abound, and gated communities are commonplace. Excellent bus service in Mexico, frequent and on time now, no more “chicken” buses. I always wanted to document the buses in Mexico by doing a photo shoot of the decorated local buses, and inter-city buses. The individual driver makes a great thing of their bus. They don’t consider that it is owned by the company, as they decorate the front part with religions icons, crosses, personal images of family & friends; and they bring on board their own music system, which they play all day long— loud, it dominates the entire space— whether you want it, like it or not, it is everywhere.

Music plays an important part in all of Mexico, and is found in the Zóaclo, too. In fact, all Zóaclos have a place, right in the middle, decorated and surrounded by a wrought iron fence. Covered by a roof, sometimes made of simple tile, other times very decorative. This is where the municipal band plays, not always well. But play it does, on its own schedule, you will never know when. At a nighttime concert, a festival night, with lantern lights strung about it is relaxing to sit down, hear the music, and look at the young people milling about. On this night, and on weekends the troubadours are about: hawking their songs, and seeking people who want to hear a Mexican Ballard, love song or two. These artists are expensive, so usually those on holiday support them. The beat goes on!

The Zóaclo, central in town and city is also central in the Mexican heart. Even extremely poor communities allocate resources to maintain its parks, and in a country where water is scarce you still find many fountains. Not only in the jardine, but also at almost every corner, built right into the wall. They may not be operational but they are still all over town.

The Four Seasons of the Master Myth

 

 

 

 

Before these towns had developed a central water system the people relied on the local wells, and fountains for their water. Some years ago I would go to a little park in a Mexican area of town, to avoid the crowded jardine, flooded with gringos, and there, I observed a small fountain in the center of this very small jardine. There was no water in the fountain, ever. Either it was not connected to the water distribution system in the middle of the abutting street, or the water had been turned off. A battered sign hung from the side of the fountain said “No Agua!”

The sign interested me, and one day, when I saw two small girls looking at the empty fountain, it prompted a painting: I did one on canvas, and incorporated the two girls and the sign No Agua. I usually don’t do representative work, but this is more or less that. I gave the painting later to a maid we employed at our house who was a caregiver for my father who lived and subsequently died in SMA. The theme “No Agua” became a show of works I was doing. All of the paintings were done without water, therefore, no agua. Most were encaustic paintings. I haven’t done an encaustic painting since then, around 1990.

I’m off to the Zóaclo now…look forward to seeing you there. Perhaps, we will sit and talk, or more likely look about, buy The News and spin off for a coffee at the Bellas Artes.