BmoreArt

A common thread within these objects is a shared belief that ancestors, natural materials, and sacred places contain the enduring power of life. Artwork within these galleries come from materials and forms that have allowed a variety of populations to survive and thrive over centuries.

The first section painted in kelly green walls explores the essence of life stored in minerals, pigments, feathers, and water. Indigenous cultures associated greenstone, cinnabar, gold, and alloys with an inherent supernatural quality and sacredness, powered by the sun and in the earth beneath them. 

“Wak’a del Agua” made by contemporary Peruvian artist Kukuli Velarde foregrounds the exhibit, signifying the sacredness of water. A flowing ribbon-like form unites five ceramic “stones” separated by neon and red and black heads, and a stone with lettering at the bottom that translates to “before you and always.” Each stone correlates to a historical period Velarde uses to trace her indigenous origins.

Placed on the opposite corner wall, “Saint Jerome in Penance and the Four Evangelists,” depicts several figures on bent knees, replete with religious iconography. Sacred feathers  plucked from a tropical hummingbird fill in the crevices of the frame, revealing deep greens, purples, and blues. If you shine a light into the case, these feathers shimmer. 

Enter the Sculpture Court abutting the North Court galleries and see Baltimore-based René Treviño’s “Regalia, Moscas Brillantes (Negro).” Here, fanned out feathers adorn a garment of black velvet and lace with sequin appliqué and decorative flies.

Through the plexiglass, it looks both delicate and powerful like an effigy vessel from the adjacent gallery. Is it a coronation robe or the cape of a new hero? Treviño poses these questions with astute playfulness, by presenting common symbols from the past, he carves out future possibilities. It seamlessly fits the tone of the new installation, thoughtfully aligned with the same ethos of reinvention.

In the middle gallery, burgundy walls feature objects that explore themes of empire, migration, community, and travel. A vitrine dominating the center gallery displays a patterned tunic fringed at the bottom and is flanked by two large posts with a carved head. The scene conjures notions of lavish and powerful empires. Another large case features a reddish Peruvian “Ch’uspa (Coca Leaf Bag)” decorated with geometric shapes. During travel, the bags carried dried coca leaves to be shared with fellow travelers to help alleviate hunger and altitude sickness in the Andes. Such objects impart the ways in which Latin American cultures bestowed communal care and restoration, and it echoes throughout the exhibits.

Cross the gallery threshold and cobalt blue walls correlate to the ethos of persistence, resistance, and endurance. Contemporary Baltimore-based artist Edgar Reyes depicts a WAM sculpture from the collection, displayed next to his boldly patterned textile, “Itzpapalotl.” Extending high up the wall, Reyes’s tight, coiling composition of fragmented portrait heads, traditional pattern work, and geometric forms bewilders the eyes.

Interestingly, the WAM object that inspired the piece is a modern forgery, but this only enhances the meaning of the piece. For Reyes, “Itzapapalotl” represents the means of survival which has led artisans to make replicas and sell them in open air markets, a memory he recalls from frequent visits to antique markets. This section equally highlights resourcefulness and care for the land and animals of Central America.

“Caiman Effigy Burner,” a spiky vessel with scaly figurations wrapped around its surface, lends a commanding aura. The large alligatorid form prominently rears its head atop the lid, centering the reverence and spiritual power believed to be held within such creatures. This incense burner allowed its user to care for the living landscape as an offering. 

Painted in a secondary green hue, the remaining galleries explore life in Mesoamerica. Deities, a sacred ballgame, and cooking materials illustrate the richness of Mesoamerican culture.

“Statue of the Deity Mācuīlxōchītl (Five Flower)” shows him seated, with discerning and watchful eyes gazing into the distance. To appease him, this stone sculpture is clustered by four ballgame performers like an offering. An accompanying video clip shows performers volleying the ball with their hips and sliding into the ground. It’s a fast-paced, chaotic game, and it looks wildly fun.

Along the adjacent wall, a Zapotec “Comal” (Griddle for Tortillas) relates to a short video featuring Clavel chef Carlos Raba. While making corn tortillas by hand, he delves into his Mexican roots and upbringing. It’s a savvy way to situate a familiar and beloved Baltimorean taqueria and cocktail bar through the lens of community and storytelling. 

Labels marked as “Community Voices” further allow cultural workers, artists, and educators to respond to the collection from their perspective and experiences. Additionally, skirting the need for QR codes, each introductory label includes English and Spanish text side by side. 

When museums create exhibitions with diverse communities in mind, it enhances inclusion and cultivates a sense of belonging. Unfortunately, the federal government has recently spearheaded an agenda to quell these projects altogether. Museums are now expected to abandon DEI projects years in the making. Despite recently losing $70,000 in a Federal IMLS grant, the Walters forged ahead with the project. 

Burgin says because the exhibition is so central to their mission and values “there was never a question of the Walters pausing this project.” And while every dollar matters to an organization like the Walters, the ensuing loss was only 6% of the total project budget. As the situation develops via legal appeals and overturns to those appeals, the Walters may yet receive the full grant amount. Time will tell as the process unfolds. 

By recentering its collection, the Walters has created space for Latino voices. In this, Latin American Art/Arte Latinamericano celebrates the richness of multicultural art and artifacts across space and time. While Baltimore’s growing Latino community accounts for 7.9% of its population, this project—the first of its kind—offers invaluable connections for Latinos to experience artwork directly represents them. Amid uncertainty and pushback from the federal government, the new installation shows the value in upholding DEI initiatives, that museums will continue investing in their communities no matter the cost.