Gio Swaby’s Fresh Take on Textile Portraits

The Bahamian artist is redefining portraiture — and Black women representation at museums like the Art Institute of Chicago — one stitch at a time. 

Gio Swaby’s textile portraits feature confident Black women, mixed fabrics and loose strings to juxtapose strength with so-called imperfections.

When you think of portraits, a few formats probably spring to mind: painting, photography, life drawing. But textiles?

That’s the medium Gio Swaby is rocking. The Bahamian artist uses textiles to create stunning portraits of powerful Black women. 

“Textiles are a great way to connect with people because they’re so familiar.

Everyone has some sort of relationship with textiles, whether it’s through clothing or bedding or whatever. It’s something that we can all relate to on some level.”

— Gio Swaby

New Growth Second Chapter 11 from 2021

New Growth Second Chapter 9

Textiles were in part chosen for their familiarity, their approachability. Museum-goers can feel intimidated by fine art paintings, Swaby explains. The average person often thinks that they haven’t learned how to “properly” view a work of art. 

But textiles don’t have that baggage. They’re comfortable; they’re part of our everyday lives. 

“I think that textiles are a great way to connect with people because they’re so familiar,” Swaby says. “Everyone has some sort of relationship with textiles, whether it’s through clothing or bedding or whatever. It’s something that we can all relate to on some level.”

The Gylavantin’ series created in 2021

A Love Letter to Black Womanhood 

Born in 1991 in Nassau, Bahamas, Swaby grew up with a seamstress mother who taught her how to sew and inspired her artistic vision. She studied art at the University of the Bahamas, Emily Carr University of Art and Design and OCAD University, and now lives and works in Toronto, Ontario in Canada. 

Swaby has described her work as a love letter to Blackness and womanhood, a celebration of personal style and identity, and a challenge to the stereotypes and expectations that often limit the representation of Black women in art. Her exhibition Fresh Up, which we saw recently at the Art Institute of Chicago, is her first solo museum show. 

With each stitch and thread, Swaby masterfully brings to life the beauty and complexity of Black women in a way that’s both breathtaking and empowering. 

Another Side to Me Second Chapter 3 from 2021

Flipping Embroidery on Its Head 

How does Swaby create her portraits? It all starts with a photo session. Swaby meets with her subjects, who are mostly Black women she knows personally or admired from afar, and engages them in a conversation about their lives, their dreams, their struggles and their joys. She then captures them on camera in a moment of self-awareness and empowerment, using natural light and simple backgrounds to highlight their features and expressions. She also impresses upon the subjects that the hairstyle, clothing and jewelry are essential elements of their personal style and identity.

“An important aspect for me is to ask the sitter to choose their own outfit,” Swaby tells us. “I think it’s so important to make that person feel comfortable. I want them to choose what they feel the most beautiful in and what makes them feel the most powerful.”

Going Out Clothes 3 from 2020

Once an image is chosen, Swaby transfers the images to fabric using a sewing machine. Yes, she actually does it all on a sewing machine! She uses a freehand technique that allows her to improvise and experiment with different colors and textures of thread. 

“If I am feeling energized, I’ll start with the face or the hands,” Swaby says. “And if I’m not feeling the vibes, I will start with something that’s a little bit easier. Like if there’s a lot of stripes on the outfit. That’s pretty straightforward.”

Detail from the Gylavantin’ series

She also uses different types of fabric, such as cotton, denim, silk and velvet, to create contrast and depth. 

Swaby says that she works intuitively and quickly. “I don’t like to overthink things. I like to just go with what feels right in the moment. What I want to capture is their true essence.”

Another Side to Me 2 from 2020

The final step is to flip the fabric over and present the reverse side of her work. This is where Swaby’s process becomes radical. Instead of hiding the stitching process, she exposes it and celebrates it. 

“I wanted to have some moments of surprise, a new appreciation for the irregularities, the loose threads, the places where I lifted up the canvas before moving on to another area,” Swaby says. “I think there is beauty in imperfection. Why not celebrate it?” 

Pretty Pretty 7 from 2021

She explains that this is a way of honoring the labor and care that goes into each portrait, as well as embracing the vulnerability and humanity of her subjects. It’s a way of challenging the expectations and stereotypes that often limit the representation of Blacks in art. She wants to show them as they are: beautiful but not idealized, complex but not exoticized, powerful but not threatening.

Pretty Pretty 5

The first time she displayed the underside of a stitched rendering was with her Another Side to Me series. “As textile-based makers, this is the part of our work that we tend to conceal,” she says. “I’ve always found a kind of beauty in these ‘flaws.’” 

The New Growth series on display at the Fresh Up exhibit in Chicago

A Fresh Take on Collaboration for Fresh Up

Swaby’s exhibition Fresh Up is not just a collection of her works, but also a reflection of her vision and involvement. Swaby collaborated with the curators of the Art Institute of Chicago to create a show that showcases her range and diversity as an artist. The exhibition brings together seven of Swaby’s recent series, such as Love Letters and Pretty Pretty, along with approximately 15 new works, including her largest work to date, a commission for the U.S. embassy in Nassau.

An illustrated catalogue includes an interview between Swaby and Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones, as well as essays by the curators and contributions from Swaby herself. 

Swaby joined the Art Institute team to stage the show and write the descriptions of the art. At the talk Duke and I attended with our friend, Ivan, the museum’s staff kept gushing about how awesome it was to work with a living artist, to have the opportunity to install an exhibit with the artist’s input. 

The feeling was mutual: “Being able to work with the conservation team was one of the most exciting parts about having this exhibition here and being able to be here in person to see how it all works,” Swaby says. 

Love Letter 8 from 2021

The title of the exhibit, Fresh Up, is a Bahamian phrase used as a way to compliment someone’s style or confidence — elements Swaby wants to highlight in her subjects. It’s a phrase that exudes positivity, joy and self-love. 

“Life has so many variations — why not have this moment of representing and being able to celebrate many different kinds of people and also highlight the fact that Black women are not monolithic?” Swaby says. “We are all different, unique individuals.” 

Sew true! –Wally

The Charnley-Persky House in Chicago: America’s First Modern Home?

Louis Sullivan and Frank Lloyd Wright collaborated on this sleek, minimal home that defied the ostentatiousness of the Gilded Age. Step back in time and tour this innovative but little-known architectural gem.

Imagine what people thought of a home like this — sleek, modern, horizontal — at a time when Victorians were all the rage. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

When dealing with such legendary icons of the architectural world as Louis Sullivan and Frank Lloyd Wright, it’s not surprising that towering egos and intense rivalry come into play. But with the iconic Charnley-Persky House in Chicago’s Gold Coast neighborhood, who actually deserves the accolades?

“Wright wrote that he had designed the Charnley-Persky House entirely on his own.

The claim couldn’t be refuted, as Sullivan had passed away, and the firm’s records had burned in a fire. ”

Helen Charnley

The Charnleys Want a “Country” Home

Let’s start at the beginning to try to unravel this mystery. In 1891, Sullivan, 34, and his then-23-year-old apprentice, Wright, teamed up to design a residential masterpiece on Astor Street for their wealthy clients, James and Helen Charnley.

The couple were members of the one-percenters of the Gilded Age. James was a banker who made his fortune in lumber, and Helen’s father was president of the Illinois Central Railroad. 

At the time, Sullivan and his partner, Dankmar Adler, were basically the cool kids of the architecture world. They had designed the Auditorium Theater Building in 1889, which is still world-renowned for its acoustics. Business was good.

While many of Adler & Sullivan’s 180-some commissions were for commercial spaces, they also designed about 60 residences. Unfortunately, most of them are no longer standing. In fact, the Charnley-Persky House is the only residence designed by Sullivan that you can still tour today.

So how did the Charnleys manage to snag Sullivan as their architect? Well, it turns out that James’ brother, Albert, was an executive at the Illinois Central Railroad. As our guide, Jean, joked, “The rich like to hang out with other rich people.” 

Adler & Sullivan’s architectural drawing of the James Charnley home

But why did the Charnleys choose this location? They were ahead of the curve. While the Gold Coast is now an affluent neighborhood, at the time it wasn’t exactly a hot spot. In fact, even though it’s not that far north of downtown, it was considered the countryside.

Three-quarters of a mile in one direction, you would reach the Chicago River. Go three-quarters of a mile in the other direction, and you’d find yourself in a notorious slum charmingly known as Little Hell. It was gnamed for the smell of sulfur from the coal gas furnaces that permeated the air. It was so dangerous that even the police wouldn’t go there, Jean told us. (What did that neighborhood eventually become? The infamous Cabrini Green housing project.)

So how did this land become prime real estate? Well, Potter Palmer, Chicago’s richest resident at the time, had a lot to do with it. He built his own home on the corner of Lake Shore Drive, spending a whopping $1 million back in 1882. The house was called “the Castle” for its size and design. 

“Of course, it raised the value of all the land around it,” Jean said. “And so it started to get developed very quickly after that.”

You can see why the Palmer home was called the Castle. It helped make the Gold Coast a hot new housing market.

Sadly, no one could afford to keep up the Castle, and it was razed in 1950. 

Before that, this area was owned by the archdiocese, with parts of it acting as a Catholic cemetery, and the only other building in sight was the archbishop’s residence.

The Charnleys’ first home in the undeveloped Gold Coast neighborhood of Chicago was a site of heartbreak. Note the Palmer Castle under construction in the background.

The Charnleys Join the Neighborhood 

The Charnleys built their first home on Division and Lake Shore Drive, but lost their two young daughters (ages 4 and 6) to diphtheria shortly after moving in. The memories of that house weren’t happy, so they decided to have this one built instead. It was never intended to be a family home. They had larger homes in the suburbs of Lake Forest and Evanston, so this was simply their pied-à-terre in the city, Jean explained.

Even today, it stands out from its neighbors with its modern design, a product of Sullivan’s experimental phase.

After the Charnley’s departure, the house went through several owners, including the Waller family, who had a member living there until 1969. Skidmore, Owings & Merrill (SOM) bought the house next for the headquarters of the Chicago Institute for Architecture and Urbanism and restored it. 

“They didn’t stay here long. But fortunately, they had deep pockets,” Jean said. “So they were able to restore the structure to the way it was, which no private owner could do before them.”

Philanthropist Seymour Persky later bought the house and let the Society of Architectural Historians (SAH) move their headquarters there from Philadelphia. This allowed the house to continue to stand and be appreciated for its architectural significance. As a token of its gratitude, the society added Persky’s name to the home. 

Bustling State Street in the 1890s, when Chicago was one of the fastest-growing cities in the world

Gilded Age Chicago

To put the time period into context, Chicago underwent exponential growth and development during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. 

In 1880 the city’s population was 500,000; in 1890 it had doubled to 1 million; and in 1910 it had doubled yet again to 2.2 million. 

“At that time, the turn of that century, it was the fastest-growing city in the world,” Jean said. “Of course, that’s a thing of the past now. But it was a very new, vibrant, lively, energetic city with lots of money, lots of wealth, lots of disease, lots of extremes.”

Rudyard Kipling visited Chicago around this time and declared, “I urgently desire never to see it again. It is inhabited by savages.” Rude. 

In 1889, the Chicago Sanitary District was formed to reverse the flow of the Chicago River, which had been dumping waste into Lake Michigan and contaminating the city’s drinking water. A New York Times article from the time said that the water in the Chicago River “now resembles liquid.” (Sorry, St. Louis!)

As Jean pointed out, the tail end of the Gilded Age in Chicago was a time of juxtaposition, when typhoid epidemics and inaugural symphony concerts were happening simultaneously. 

Start your tour of the Charnley-Persky House Museum where the servants used to spend most of their time, in the basement. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

The Basement/Visitors center of the Charnley-Persky House 

Our tour of the Charnley-Persky House began in the basement, which is the visitors center. This floor was strictly for the servants’ use, so the family had no reason to come down here.

The basement contains a kitchen, boiler room, laundry room, bathroom, root cellar and butler’s pantry with a dumbwaiter.

The soapstone sink has a concrete basin. “I think the reason it’s still here is because it’s too heavy to move,” Jean speculated. “Some things are just too inconvenient to destroy.”

Overall, the house presented some design challenges, starting with its narrow footprint. It has 4,500 square feet spread across four floors — but it’s only 25 feet deep from one wall to the other. It’s essentially designed in the space of a row house, but with the entrance on the long side instead of the short side. 

What’s impressive is how Sullivan and Wright got creative with elements of the home’s design. Originally, another house was planned to be built against the back wall, so there were no windows on that side. The architects added interior windows to bring light into the space. How sweet of them to consider the welfare of the servants.

The Charnleys were lucky (err, rich) enough to have hot water in the home. When it came to heating, Sullivan and Wright went against the norm by hanging the hot water radiator below the floor — and saved a lot of room in the dining room upstairs.

This genius feature hides the radiator and saves all that space from making the dining room above more cramped. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

There’s a door off to the side of the main room that leads to the coal cellar. It’s actually built under the sidewalk, and a manhole out front offered access for delivery men to shovel coal in.

Higher-end Roman bricks were used on the front of the home, with cheaper Chicago common bricks at the back. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

The Façade of the Charnley-Persky House

Most of the homes in the Gold Coast neighborhood are grandiose 19th century Victorian row houses with sharp vertical lines and elaborate ornamentation on their windows, doors, porches — basically everywhere. Many are made of rusticated brownstone and sport an asymmetrical design.

So one thing that sets the Charnley-Persky House apart is its horizontal layout.

“There’s nothing like it anywhere around here — even now,” Jean pointed out. 

Chicago was a brick-making center in the 1890s, manufacturing about 600 million bricks a year. This house reflects that. On the back side, Chicago common brick was used. Uneven in color and crumbly, they were made from clay in the Chicago River. They were also much cheaper than other types of brick. However, the front and sides of the home feature more expensive Roman brick and natural limestone.

The front door of the house. You can see the importance of horizontal planes and symmetry in the home’s design. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

In the design, Sullivan exaggerated the horizontal planes. The natural limestone goes all the way across the front section and the side. There’s a balcony that spans the front. It has pillars, but they are short and squat. The Roman brick is narrow. And you can’t see the low-hipped roof at all.

The design is notable for its lack of ornamentation around the windows and doors. “Sullivan wanted the mass of the building itself to be present to us, and not to cover it up with all kinds of frills and doodads — that’s the architectural term,” Jean joked.

Also in stark contrast to its neighbors, the house is completely symmetrical, with the front door and balcony in the center and the same number of windows on each side. 

The house is devoid of decoration, aside from the metalwork on the balcony, which features some of Sullivan’s recurring motifs. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

Looking at the design of the Charnley-Persky House, there are a few key motifs worth noting. One of these is the incised pattern on the balcony, which can be seen throughout the building, including the front door. Sullivan loved to incorporate organic shapes and patterns into his work, and he often referred to the pointed oval motif as a seed pod. 

“He put them on every single thing he designed,” Jean said. “Everything, even down to the tombs in Graceland Cemetery.”

Sullivan was certainly ahead of his time with this house. He was so proud of it that he advertised it in architecture magazines in England, promoting it as the first American modern design. 

Louis Sullivan, on the left, most likely designed the Charnley-Persky House — but that didn’t stop Wright, on the right, from taking credit later in life.

The Sullivan and Wright Controversy 

Wright was working as a draftsman for Sullivan at the time the Charnley-Persky House was built. Evidence shows that Adler and Sullivan, well-established architects at the peak of their business, would design the entire plan of the house, including the decoration and wood choices. Then, Wright would fill in some of the details. 

“So, while there are some unique elements that may be Wright’s additions, the overall design was likely a collaboration between the three architects,” Jean informed us. 

But that’s not what Wright claimed. In his 1932 autobiography, Wright wrote that he had designed the house entirely on his own. And the claim couldn’t be refuted, as Sullivan had passed away in 1924, and the firm’s records had burned in a fire. 

“Sullivan and Wright were very close, until they weren’t,” Jean said. “They both had very big egos.”

Wright left Adler & Sullivan in 1893. He claimed he was fired for moonlighting, building other houses on his own.

“But evidence suggests Sullivan didn’t care,” Jean went on. “I think Sullivan said, ‘You’re fired.’ And Wright said, ‘You can’t fire me — I quit.’ It was one of those situations. I think Wright had reached a point where he had the skills and the confidence to leave and go on his own.”

Jean added that Sullivan was an alcoholic and very difficult to get along with, while Wright was brilliant and visionary. 

The narrow entrance hall at the home, where the fireplace takes center stage. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

Inside the Charnley-Persky House: The Foyer

Step inside, and the first thing you notice is the foyer fireplace, which boasts original mosaic designs that echo flickering flames. The flue is hidden underneath the stairs and goes up the back. The fireplace has no mantel, which allows for an unobstructed view and emphasizes those horizontal lines that are a hallmark of Sullivan’s style.

Sullivan incorporated elements of the Arts and Crafts movement, which highlighted craftsmanship and natural materials. The use of wood as the main decorative element and the incorporation of organic motifs, such as oak leaves and acorns, were typical of this style.

Wide, expensive white oak panels feature prominently. Remember, Charnley was in the lumber biz. 

Those skylights illuminating the stairwell and landings is something you’d typically find in commercial buildings — not a family home. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

The design of the Charnley-Persky House reflects Sullivan’s experience with commercial buildings, as well as his innovative approach to residential design. The atrium and skylight, which were more commonly found in commercial buildings, allowed for natural light and air to flow through the home. This was a departure from the typical dark, closed-off interiors of Victorian homes.

To either side of the door are cozy alcoves. The Charnleys didn’t leave any letters, diaries or photos, so we have no idea how the family used these spaces. However, there’s only one sitting room, so it’s possible that these alcoves served as small reception areas for guests before entering the dining room.

No one’s quite sure what the Charnleys used the alcoves to either side of the front door for. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

According to the 1900 census, the Charnley family had two live-in Swedish servant girls. “You know,” Jean said. “You’re a servant girl until you’re at least 80.” The “girls” did the cooking, cleaning and everything else that needed to be done around the house.

The dining room at the Charnley-Persky House was much less elaborate than most in the Gilded Age. Photo by David Schalliol

The Dining Room

Wide, beaded paneling was all the rage back then. You could buy strips of beaded wood and simply glue them onto a surface. Sullivan kept the room plain and modern, aside from the fireplace. The richly carved mahogany mantle with a stylized four-point seed pod motif, surrounded by a vegetal pattern, is set above African rose marble tiles imported from England.

“I don’t know why they’re not from Chicago. We made everything else,” Jean mused. “But anyway, that’s where they’re from.”

The rose marble tiles of the fireplace in the dining room came from Britain, while pretty much everything else was locally sourced.

The buffet isn’t original, but the woodwork suggests that there was probably a built-in piece of furniture there at some point. So the folks at SOM custom-designed one to fit in. Look closely: Its design mimics that of the house exterior.

Unusual for the more-is-more Gilded Age, there are no parquet floors or ledges to be filled with statues, crystal and the like.

The Charnleys were quiet folk who didn’t entertain much. In addition to the deaths of their daughters, James was diagnosed with Bright’s disease in the mid-1890s. This chronic kidney inflammation had no treatment or cure — it was a one-way ticket to the grave. He survived only 10 years after his diagnosis.

Unfortunately, the Charnleys couldn’t catch a break. James’ brother and sister-in-law ran off with $100,000 from the Fourth Presbyterian Church. Their two sons felt such shame at their parents’ actions that they both committed suicide.

“Money really cannot buy you everything,” Jean said.

But there’s a glimmer of happiness in this sad tale. Enter Seymour Persky, the philanthropist who swooped in and saved the mansion from demolition. He was a lawyer-turned-developer who made a fortune and then dedicated his life to collecting architectural artifacts, bless his heart.

The servants would do prep work in the butler’s pantry, where they could stay out of sight but still keep an eye on how dinner was progressing.

Off the dining room is the butler’s pantry. My favorite detail: the narrow window in the door, where the help could keep an eye on the diners’ progress. 

“During the Victorian era, they say children should be seen and not heard. I think servants were supposed to be neither seen nor heard,” Jean said. “They just sort of floated in when they needed to take a plate away.”

The Charnleys’ sitting room is now home to the Society of Architectural Historians library.

The Sitting Room

The highlight of the sitting room (now the SAH library) is the gorgeous tiger stripe white oak paneling. It’s called “tiger stripe” because it looks like, well, a tiger’s stripes. The wood didn’t come cheap. It’s cut from quarter-sawn wood, which is basically like slicing a citrus fruit into wedges. This is wasteful, but it brings out the beautiful and distinct grain pattern. Keep in mind, though: Charnley was a lumber baron, and wood was certainly an area where he could splurge.

At the time, the biggest commodities in Chicago were meat, wheat and lumber. While at least 200 lumber schooners entered the Chicago River every day, the industry had started to decline. The northern forests of white oak in Michigan and Wisconsin had been depleted. And on the day of the Chicago Fire, there was also a huge fire in Peshtigo, Wisconsin, a lumber mill town, which burned to the ground.

People switched to Southern yellow pine, and the industry dispersed instead of being centralized in Chicago.

The benches, cabinets and leaded glass in the sitting room are all original.

There’s another beautiful fireplace in here, this one with carved oak leaves. And again, African rose marble. 

Those scrolling leaves are pure Sullivan, but it’s believed that the geometric design in the middle of the sitting room fireplace woodwork was most likely a Wright touch.

One detail that experts believe came from Wright is the geometric ornamentation of the fireplace panels. It’s unlikely that Sullivan would have conceived the pointed arches and flat, almost Gothic stylized leaves, as this is an arrangement that one would expect from Wright.

The star of the show: The amazing screen that somewhat hides the staircase is one of the elements attributed to Wright in the home’s design.

Upstairs: The Staircase, Bedrooms and Balcony

In my opinion, the most striking part of the home is the staircase. The stairs are set back a bit behind a screen of slender oak spindles, so they appear to be floating. “It’s a beautiful way to illuminate the stairs without closing them off,” Jean said, adding that scholars believe this may have been a Wright touch as well.

Upstairs are two bedrooms, access to the balcony and beautiful (if a bit precarious) woodwork looking down to the first floor. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

The bedrooms are now offices for the architectural society. The rooms themselves aren’t overly impressive, with small unadorned fireplaces ordered from a catalog. There was no need to impress others, you see; it’s the idea of private vs. public space. But they do boast unheard-of amenities at the time: Each has an en-suite bathroom and walk-in closet. 

One interesting tidbit: Unlike most homes of the wealthy at the time, James and Helen shared a bedroom. But we knew they had modern sensibilities when they hired Sullivan to design the home.

Another staircase in the back corner of the landing leads all the way from the basement to the fourth floor, where the servants’ bedrooms were located. They were about half the size of the other bedrooms. While you might think the servants had it nice since the top floor has the best view, just remember that there wasn’t any air conditioning — and heat rises.

The only real outdoor space found at the Charnley-Persky House is the front balcony. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

The balcony was the only outdoor space. Because the house is close to the lake (and this is the Windy City, after all) there’s always a nice breeze. It looks west, to what was a shop across the street. “Not much was going on,” Jean said. “And then Little Hell. So you didn’t need to see too far.”

That pinkish-putty brown color (Jean’s not a fan) matches the original hue of the balcony.

The house was given to the SAH, but unfortunately, there’s no endowment to support its upkeep. Tours, donations and the efforts of the architectural society subsidize the preservation of this magnificent house so that it can continue to be enjoyed for generations to come. 

If you are a Chicagoan interested in architecture or history, or are visiting Chicago and looking for something to do after you’ve seen the Bean, book a tour to experience the birth of the modern home, designed by two of the world’s most famous architects.

The home is open for docent-led tours every Wednesday and Saturday at noon year round. There’s an additional Saturday tour at 10 a.m. from April to October. Tours are free on Wednesdays and cost $10 on Saturdays. Reservations are required and tours are limited to 10 people. –Wally

Look for this fence to enter the small sunken courtyard that leads to the visitors center to start your tour. Photo by Leslie Schwartz

Charnley-Persky House Museum

1365 North Astor Street
Chicago, Illinois 60610
USA

 

Standards of Beauty (and Ugliness) in African Art

From scarification to the ideal male and female, discover what Westerners get wrong about how Sub-Saharan sculptures and other works of art are viewed in their own cultures. 

A ritual dance in Guinea, Africa features a Baga nimba or d’mba headdress, seen in the upper right corner, which represents the ideal fertile woman.

Westerners have collected African art for centuries. But do they really understand it? Who determines what is beautiful and what is ugly in African art? Can viewers judge art solely by the standards of beauty in their own culture?

That’s the question a recent exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago sought to answer. The collection was massive, taking up six or so rooms, filled with over 250 works of art from dozens of cultures across Sub-Saharan Africa. 

The idea is to put art in its cultural context. How did the local communities view these works of art? And how were they used? 

“For some African cultures, scarification, including on the face, is a way to enhance someone’s beauty — especially that of a woman. ”

There’s often a religious aspect to these works. “So the art is not made just to be art,” says Constantine Petridis, chair and curator of arts of Africa at the Art Institute. “It’s art that serves a purpose, serves a function and has a meaning. And that contributes in a very deep and integral way to the survival and the wellbeing of both individuals and societies.” 

Much of this art is literally thought to save lives: It guards ancestors’ remains or fends off evil spirits. 

A Mangbetu woman in 1913 wearing a halo hairstyle with ivory pins, popular in the Democratic Republic of the Congo

African Art Viewed Through an African Lens

It’s time we reevaluated standards of beauty — and understood that what’s attractive or powerful to a Western audience could be very different than that of a Sub-Saharan group. 

“The hope is also to erase prejudices and preconceived notions that have, for a very long time, prevented people from appreciating this art,” Petridis says.

Let’s take a look at some of the commonalities found throughout African art — and see that beauty is more than skin deep.

Male guardian reliquary figures with the heads of children but muscular bodies of adults. Teeth have been sealed behind the eyes to help the statues act as intermediaries with ancestors.

Masculinity is depicted with youthful, muscular bodies and large hands and feet. 

In many African cultures, the ideal male figure is tall and lean, with long limbs, an elongated neck and muscular calves. Why? These physical attributes are deemed necessary to transport heavy loads on the head and to work hard in the fields.

“A youthful appearance in general connotes fertility and also good health and the capability of doing hard work,” Petridis says. 

Large hands and feet are seen as representing the energy and endurance needed on a hunting expedition. 

A statue of the Chokwe mythological hero Chibinda Ilunga, a legendary hunter, made in Angola in 1850

These physical characteristics are often depicted in African sculpture to emphasize physical prowess — essential in a society where men are responsible for hunting, farming and other demanding activities.

A ndop portrait figure of King Mishe miShyaang maMbul, made about 1770 in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The oversized head symbolizes intelligence.

Works of art depicting male beauty aren’t just for aesthetic appreciation, though; they serve a vital purpose.

“All of these attributes represent or express political and religious authority, and as such, these objects would have been placed on an altar to serve to fight physical as well as metaphysical threats,” Petridis adds. 

A depiction of Kaatyeleo, the Ancient Mother, who nurses babies with the milk of knowledge and evokes authoritative power

The feminine ideal is voluptuous — big belly, rounded hips, a large butt — and sometimes sports a long neck.

The ideal female figure has been a subject of fascination and inspiration for artists throughout history, and African art is no exception. In African sculpture, the ideal female figure is often depicted as having a curvaceous body with wide hips and full breasts. These features are seen as symbols of fertility, femininity and maternal strength.

A portrait of a queen, the wife of King Njike, from early 20th century Cameroon. It once stood in front of the royal palace.

While the exact proportions of the ideal female figure vary between African cultures, there are some common elements frequently seen across the continent. For example, in West Africa, the ideal female figure is often portrayed with a prominent belly and rounded buttocks, while in East Africa, the focus is more on the breasts and elongated neck.

The curvaceous figure of the ideal woman is seen as a reflection of her role as a caretaker and nurturer, responsible for raising healthy children and maintaining a strong family.

An ikam crest mask from Nigeria depicts the fantastical hairstyles girls had created for their initiation into womanhood. Incidentally, these “beautiful maiden” masks were worn by men.

Female figures are frequently depicted with intricate hairstyles and elaborate jewelry, which are seen as a reflection of high status and beauty.

A mwana pwo or pwo mask from Angola is more realistic than other depictions of beauty in African art. It features elements a Westerner wouldn’t consider attractive, including extensive scarification and chipped teeth.

Scarification is considered beautiful. 

This particular aspect of beauty is probably the most difficult for Westerners to grasp. (Then again, look at our obsession with tattoos.) Scarification, a form of body modification that involves creating designs or patterns on skin by cutting or branding, has been practiced for centuries.

Originally used as a post on a veranda in Nigeria, this carving is of a senior royal wife was created by a famous artist, Olówé of Ise. The scarification indicates her high status.

For some African cultures, scarification, including on the face, is a way to enhance someone’s beauty — especially that of a woman. 

Ogo Esu, god of the marketplace, the only orisha, or deity, consistently represented in human form. In Nigeria, his followers would dance with a staff like this, which has a phallic headpiece and cowrie shells associated with wealth.

Morality is synonymous with beauty.

In many African cultures, the concept of beauty is closely tied to morality and ethics. This is reflected in the use of a single word to describe both beauty and goodness. Likewise, the same word is often used to convey ugliness and immorality, highlighting the deep connection between physical appearance and moral character. 

A mbwoongntey, a cup used for palm wine in the Congo

Smooth skin is attractive.

While scarification has been a long-standing tradition in African art, the idea of smooth skin as a standard of beauty is also prevalent. In many African cultures, smooth, flawless skin is considered attractive, healthy and a sign of good hygiene. To achieve that look, some sculptures are polished to a bright shine using leaves or stones. 

But the idea of beauty extends beyond the individual. “A smooth surface is a metaphor for smooth, harmonious social relationships,” Petridis explains.

On the flip side, crusty, rough surfaces are seen as ugly.

A group of dancers from Guinea wearing Bamana Komo helmets with elements from the hyena, a nighttime scavenger.

Ugliness is tied to nature, the wilderness and animals, whereas beauty is connected to humans, the village and community. 

Nature spirits are thought to cause misfortune, illness and even death. Some sculptures were designed to be so strikingly beautiful they would lure in spirits, and the figure would take possession of them, avoiding the trouble they would have otherwise caused. 

“The sculpture becomes an abode, a home for the spirit, and it will receive offerings in order to keep it happy, and therefore remedy the problem in question,” Petridis explains.

This Baule monkey figure from the Côte d’Ivoire features a baboon-headed man representing a bush spirit and untamed wildness.

There’s a duality common throughout Africa: culture vs. nature, community vs. the wilderness. As such, idealized beauty is always presumed to be of human origin, associated with the realm of the village and society. 

At the other end of the spectrum, ugliness correlates with the wild and untamed realm of the jungle outside the boundaries of the village. The works that are deliberately created to be ugly reflect the widely shared belief that coarse and asymmetrical animal-like forms correspond with bad character, malignant magic and death. 

This dichotomy reflects the central role of community and social harmony in African cultures — and the threats that come from the untamed, uncontrolled and unpredictable aspects of nature.

This ngolo mask from the DRC features antelope horns to convey courage, while its protruding eyes signal aggression in the hopes of discouraging outsiders from approaching a boys’ training camp.

“Artists who intend to instill fear through their objects may represent ugliness by mimicking or referencing animals, especially powerful and fearsome ones,” Petridis says. “Additional features will be incorporated into fantastic compositions that comprise elements sourced literally from the natural world — actual animal parts: hides, horns, teeth, fur.”

Ugliness in African art has a power of its own. “They turn it into a dark, dangerous object, an object that inspires fear and terror and therefore also power and authority,” he continues. 

Antelope horns sit atop a nkisi figure from the DRC that depicts a blacksmith from folklore. It held great power and was created to protect an entire village.

Some art has elements of both beauty and ugliness and is meant to astonish. 

Petridis refers to this as “awesome art,” what Westerners might call the sublime. They are meant to both fascinate and terrify.

Nails are driven into a nkisi nkondi, like this one from the DRC, to atone for transgressions. If someone breaks an oath made to the figurine, it’s said to come to life to mete out justice.

“In a literal sense, it refers to objects that are meant to be awe-inspiring. They will literally stop you in your tracks,” he says. “And these objects are considered to be both beautiful and ugly, both terrorizing and attractive at once.”

A large d’mba shoulder mask used during ceremonies features scarification and pendulous breasts — aspects of the feminine ideal among the Baga people of Guinea.

Beauty Is in the Eye of the Beholder

When judging African art, see where there are overlaps or differences from your own preconceived notions, Petridis suggests. Always keep in mind that African art should always be viewed through the language and vocabulary of the culture it comes from.

“Beauty is essential and important and critical in the arts of Africa as well,” he concludes. “But it’s not necessarily the beauty that you as an outsider would see in it.” 

To avoid imposing your own tastes and preferences on art objects, you have to be open to learn and read about the culture in which they function, and what meanings and purposes they convey. And that new understanding is a thing of beauty. –Wally

The King and Queen of Oddities

A Q&A with Ryan Matthew Cohn, with special guest Regina Marie Cohn! We chat about the Oddities Flea Market and a spooky encounter with a disembodied hand. And, of course, it wouldn’t be an interview with the Cohns without mention of disarticulated skeletons.

A portrait of Ryan Matthew and Regina Marie Cohn that reflects their delightfully warped sensibilites

Duke and I have always been drawn to the bizarre. I mean, we put the Island of Dead Dolls at the top of our CDMX itinerary, and we made sure to hit the Catacombs of Paris. Then there’s the oh-so-creepy Mummy Museum of Guanajuato. 

Looking around our place, that fondness for the unusual extends to our décor. A taxidermied monitor lizard. A fertility doll from Cameroon loaded with beads, animal horns and bells. A desiccated chameleon from the witch market in the Marrakech souk. A Javanese puppet head of a little girl in pigtails whose tongue pops out when you pull a string. Duke has decided that our style is “mélange de strahnge.”

Turns out we’re not alone. Ryan Matthew Cohn has made a career out of the growing passion for the weird and the creepy. He was the host of the TV show Oddities and now helps run the Oddities Flea Market with his wife, Regina. –Wally

A glimpse into the Cohn’s oddity-filled Victorian home in Westport, Connecticut

What first got you interested in all things odd? 

Ryan: I actually don’t know. I just always have been interested in things that are out of the ordinary. I don’t know if it was a specific event or item necessarily that sparked my interest. But I do know that even when I was very young, I had a huge interest in collecting. And so I think it really started with that. And then as I became a little bit older, my tastes seemed to gravitate towards things that were a little bit more odd in nature. And then, you know, they sort of blossomed into what they are now.

How do you define an oddity?

Ryan: People use this term, sometimes when we’re talking, they say, “Oh, well, that was different.” And I’m always like, “Tell me more. I happen to like things that are different.” So I think in terms of what oddities are like as a genre, it’s anything that’s sort of out the ordinary, curious, or, you know, just strays from the norm. 

For a really long time, it was stuff that people didn’t really want. It was stuff that you didn’t really find very often. And certainly a core group of people were collecting that stuff — but it's not anywhere near what it is today.

So oddity collecting has become more popular?

Ryan: Oh, for sure. Oddities is like a household word. Now, back in the day, you just had to hope that you’re gonna find that stuff. And actually, I used to find much more, because there was not much competition. And I think because it’s grown into such a huge subgenre of collecting and lifestyle, it’s made it definitely more challenging to find stuff. But that’s why we started the market.

What prompted you to start the Oddities Flea Market?

Ryan: We felt a strong need to bring a community together that didn’t really have a specific place to go. 

Regina: It started as a one-time event in March 2017. And when we couldn’t even get people through the door because the lines were so long, we realized, oh crap, we got to do it again. So we did it again. And then we realized, OK, this is really popular. We’ll bring it back next year. And then we started doing it twice a year. And the following year, I was like, I have a crazy idea: Let’s go to LA. 

Finding venues was always the hardest thing for us, because we’re not the type of event that is going to set up in a hotel or a gymnasium. We’re always trying to find the coolest event spaces, and that’s why we don't do a lot of them. We’re definitely more quality over quantity in general. So I don’t see myself doing more than three or four a year. Right now, it looks like New York, LA and Chicago are always going to be on the roster. And then if I can pull off a fourth one, I will. 

What’s your vetting process for the market?  

Ryan: It’s not necessarily that someone’s not odd enough. It’s curated in a very specific way so that we don't oversaturate what you’ll find in the market. We try not to have too many jewelers, or too many people that work with insects, or too many taxidermists. We try to really keep a very natural flow that makes sense so that when patrons come in there, they have a little bit of everything. We are very selective. It’s a pretty strict process that we go through in terms of deciding who’s going to be at a future market.

You’re dealing with taxidermied animals and sometimes human skulls and the like. Do you ever reject items? What part do ethical or cultural sensibilities play?

Ryan: You have to have a tremendous amount of respect for any of those types of things that you’re dealing with. Of course, with taxidermy, most people claim that they have ethically sourced specimens. So we tend to look for taxidermists that use ethically sourced specimens. Same goes for all of the natural specimens that people use in their artwork and such.

Ryan and Regina’s stunning collection of curiosities includes Spanish santos figures, reliquaries and other ancient artifacts.

What’s the favorite oddity you own?

Ryan: It’s hard to pick one — there’s so many different categories, at least in our collection. Right now, I’m very much into collecting early occult books — books that are from the 14th, 15th and 16th century. And I think those my most coveted items at the moment.

I do collect a lot of saints and reliquaries. Regina and I travel in Europe quite frequently. And every time I go to Europe, I realize that we’re just looking at the literal remains or scraps of what once existed there. It’s very difficult to find the types of things that we collect in America. So, when I go to Europe, I usually fill up a whole suitcase full of paintings and other such things. 

So other kinds of collections, I really try to focus my attention on early forms of memento mori: artwork, sculpture and paintings showcasing the skeleton, because my passion started in anatomy. 

What oddity of all time do you covet the most?

Ryan: You know, it’s funny — there have been large collections that I didn’t end up getting because maybe they went to auction. I’m one of those people, personally, that if an entire museum is for sale, I want to buy the whole thing. I don’t want one or two pieces. I want everything because then I can kind of figure out what I want with select pieces later: Keep the pieces that make the most sense with our own curations and collection, and then maybe sell some of the other pieces to help fund that collection. I feel like at this point in my collecting career, I have a lot of the pieces that I’ve always sought after.

What do you mean when you say you buy a museum?

Ryan: Say a natural history museum had to shut its doors. I’ll buy the whole thing. Or say a private lifelong collector had been compiling things for his whole life. I’ll get a call and we’ll buy it. I won’t buy two or three items. I'll buy like 3,000.

It’s funny when people are like, “Hey, I have this huge collection. Do you want pictures?” I’m like, “Not really.” I’d rather come there and assess it. Because, you know, you need to be there. You need to be ready to drop money and pounce on a collection. Because if you don’t, or someone’s thought about something for too long, there’s been too much time to think and it’s probably gonna go to auction. The kiss of death.

Have there been any supernatural incidents with your oddities?

Ryan: Both Regina and myself have always been open to the idea of spirits and energies and even actual ghosts in our home. But we’ve actually never really seen anything. We’ve just had a couple strange occurrences like, a doll ending up in another part of the house, but not moved by the dogs. 

Regina: One time I was struggling to pull off a zipper. And I turned around, thinking Ryan was helping me — only he wasn’t. He was downstairs. And I found myself making eye contact with a wax hand that was just staring at me.

Ryan: Mind you, the wax hand actually has a glass eye in the middle of it.

I don’t get freaked out about this stuff, personally. If I could get a spirit to manifest itself, I’d probably be a bit wealthier of a human being, cuz I could just charge tickets to come to my house.

Have you ever had any intense reactions from people at the market?

Ryan: Yeah, definitely. A lot of people avoid certain tables. I noticed it’s mostly taxidermy, that people are just so freaked out by it. Or we’ve had people that sort of wandered in from the street and bought a ticket only to go through the market for about two minutes. They are like, what the living hell?! No, that’s not a fake skull.

But for the most part, I think that’s only happened like a handful of times in seven years. Mostly people came to these events because they really wanted to spend time with the vendors and hang out with people.

You two seem to be kindred spirits. How did you meet — and realize you share this affinity for the bizarre?

Ryan: I lived in Brooklyn, and Regina was interested in a skull that I was parting with at the time. It led to meeting up in person because we live close. And, you know, the rest is kind of history. We said, I love you on the third date and basically started working together a year later, doing what we do now.

Regina: Yeah, and I didn’t really know what I was getting into. It was way more intense when I found myself actually entering this world. You know, I came from high fashion luxury. I was working at Agent Provocateur on Madison Avenue. So by day I’m selling lingerie and kimonos; by night I’m learning how to disarticulate a skeleton.

Two years later, I found myself working full time with Ryan. I left my 15-year fashion career to pretty much manage Ryan and then create all these markets.

Ryan: Yeah, Regina is actually the one that started the flea market. I kind of came along for the ride. I think I was more hesitant at the beginning than she was.

The couple collects santos figures like this one-armed articulated 18th century cage doll with glass eyes.

So what’s the best part of your job? 

Ryan: The fact that it never really feels like a job. I mean, obviously there are always deadlines. And we are always very busy, considering we have no kids. We never have time to do anything because we always have our hands full with this, that or the other thing. But we truly do care about our community of people. And that’s the best part about it.

Regina: I don’t have to do the market — I do it because I feel like now the vendors rely on me to do it. That’s how they’ve really launched their businesses on another level. So that’s the fun part of what we do, the Oddities Flea Market. There’s just so much more to our daily life — like we’re writing a book right now.

I was going to ask about your future plans. Tell me about this book.

Ryan: The book I think is gonna probably launch in late 2024. We’re working with Chronicle. It’s going in the direction of telling the tale of what purchasing collections is like, our two different points of views. And then what we did with the collection. 

There are other interesting adventures that we’ve been on. Because when you’re doing this stuff all the time, you sort of take it for granted. You go, oh, yeah, we just bought a museum. And yeah, that’s really fun. But we do it so frequently that it almost doesn’t seem terribly interesting after a while. But when we tell the story, people are always intrigued and have a lot of questions. And I think the book came as a result of that.

What about your art, Ryan?

Ryan: I actually have a gallery show coming up in November in Seattle at Roq La Rue Gallery. 

Because we travel so frequently, we tend to be pretty busy. I don’t get to work on my art as frequently as I used to. But I do try to be selective. I usually feature a piece or two a year in a show.

Most of the work that I do these days is based on antiques. So for instance, at this upcoming show, I’m working with 18th century saint statues that I’m articulating. And so they’re sort of a mixture of the earlier pieces that I did with osteological specimens but using antique wood, genuine pieces that were purchased from Italy and other places that I traveled to.

One of Ryan's Beauchêne exploded skulls

I know you’ve worked with skulls and broken them apart.

That’s something that I still do on occasion. But like I said, I’m very selective at this point in my career. I do as much of that stuff as I can. But it gets very, very time consuming and requires a ton of patience. 

Crazy, Cartoonish, Controversial: The Art of Mu Pan

A Q&A with the avant-garde artist who creates elaborate hellscapes of violence and monsters and has been featured in the horror film Midsommar. 

Me Like Sushi by Mu Pan, 2015

Monkeys and human-headed crows eating sushi off a screaming woman. A multi-armed Christ shooting machine guns. A yak-headed samurai slicing a cowboy in half. Countless battles between bizarre beasts. Oh, and a creepy mural that foreshadows the dread to come in the horror flick Midsommar. 

“Every monster I draw is actually a self-portrait. ”

— Mu Pan, American Fried Rice 

Looking at the scope of his elaborate artworks, you notice certain themes: Mu Pan holds a cynical and misanthropic view of human nature and society. His paintings are used to express his anger and frustration with the issues he cares about, such as racism, colonialism, U.S. politics and pop culture.

Yes, if there’s one thing the artist Mu Pan isn’t afraid to be, it’s provocative.

Mu Pan’s epic-scale nightmares depict violence, gore, sex and, yes, humor. His art is like if Hieronymus Bosch and Henry Darger had a half-aborted fetus. 

Rabbits by Mu Pan, 2020

He challenges viewers to confront their own prejudices and to question the narratives they’ve been told.

“Drawing and painting are for me the most obvious ways to claim justice,” Mu Pan says in his book American Fried Rice. “I use creation as a pretext to highlight everything I dislike such as violence, conflict or lies.”

When Duke and I saw Mu Pan’s work, it was love at first sight. 

The artist at work

A Brief Bio of Mu Pan

The artist known as Mu Pan was born in Taichung City, Taiwan in 1976. He grew up there and emigrated to the United States with his parents in 1997. He studied at the School of Visual Arts in New York City, where he obtained a bachelor’s degree in illustration in 2001 and a master’s in illustration as visual essay in 2007. He lives and works in Brooklyn.

“Now I’m just bitter,” Mu Pan says in American Fried Rice. “I hate everybody equally. I’m not American, but I’m also not Chinese anymore. I’m glad I have both and I don’t have both.”

From the Compendium of Materia MUdica by Mu Pan, 2020

We were intrigued. So we reached out to Mu Pan to see if he’d answer some of our questions. To our surprise and delight, he obliged us. 

Some of his responses are head-scratchers — but that’s part of why we’re so fascinated with him. –Wally

Detail from The Loyal Retainers Part VI: South China Sea, 2016

Q&A With Mu Pan

What influences your artwork? 

Ancient art — the less sophisticated the better. Anything that has no Western influence. 

I used to be so into Japanese woodblock prints, but now I don’t feel anything for them anymore.

I listen to audiobooks while I work. 

When I was younger, I was influenced a lot by Louis Cha. Now I’m more into Mo Yan. Most images I make are stolen from books. 

I also get influenced by Hong Kong and Japanese cinema from the ’80s and ’90s.

Whale Explosion by Mu Pan, 2018

What artists do you love? 

I don’t love any living artists. I kinda hate them. Cuz they all make much more money than me and I don’t think my talent is less than theirs. They are just businesspeople. I can tell you I hate Murakami the most. And yes, I said that.

Also, I hate their fans to like my work. 

My favorite dead artist is Henry Darger. When I get frustrated and depressed, I think of him, then I can keep going on.

Momlego Egg by Mu Pan, 2023

What part does folklore play in your art?

I am more into history than folklore. 

Mu Pan’s Dinoasshole Chapter 1 by Mu Pan, 2016

There’s a violence to your art but also a playfulness. Can you talk about that?

My violence is cartoon. I am a very peaceful person indeed. I just have too much anger. And when I am angry at someone or something, I just purely wish the person would die in the most painful way.

And I hate being pretentious. I don’t believe that there is anyone in this world who doesn’t enjoy vengeance and violence. Our history is made of that, and even the Bible is full of violence.

I see that being fake and nice is worse than violence, and I still believe that violence is the ultimate method used to solve problems. Just look at the U.S.  government — they rely on violence and power. And they are pretentious as hell.

Mu Pan’s studio. Even though there are two works in progress, he told us he can only work on one at a time.

Tell us about your process. 

It really depends on how I feel. I don’t like to do small pieces, cuz I like to show off my strength that others don’t have — especially doing tiny figures on a big scale. I like to do things that people are not willing to, and I will not be submissive to anyone. You can call that stupidity, and I admit that I am stupid. 

Each piece takes a long time to make, because I don’t prepare — neither do I like to make any sketches. Sketches are for products, illustrations or to feed a dumb audience. I draw as I think, and I often erase everything I did the day before.

Life is too short. Being myself is more important than making others happy.

From the series Shit History of China by Mu Pan, 2010

You were born in Taiwan and identify as Chinese. How does your heritage influence your worldview?

I am Chinese because my father is Chinese, and so was his father and his father before him.

My grandfathers fought the Japanese, and we were never colonized. 

If you ask Bruce Lee if he is Chinese, he would say yes for sure — even though he was born in San Francisco and raised in Hong Kong. 

I don’t give a shit about Western ideology. 

Be There Soon by Mu Pan, 2023

When did you first get into drawing? 

Since the first time I could make a mark on a piece of paper with a pencil.

Mu Pan created the ominous mural featured in the movie Midsommar.

Tell us about your collaboration with Ari Aster, director of Midsommar. 

Ari is a cool guy. I met him when he asked me to make the opening image for Midsommar. He is very busy and I don’t get to talk to him much. But we have been friends ever since then.

I asked him for a favor to write the forward of my book.

Improve Your Spanish With These 32 Fun Animal Idioms

From cats and dogs to bugs and birds, discover the fascinating world of Spanish animal expressions. 

Are you a lion in bed? Have you become a seal and could stand to lose a few pounds? Maybe you’re a dead mosquito who keeps everyone guessing. The age of the turkey is always an awkward time. Just remember, no one likes a toad!

Here are some wild Spanish expressions involving animals. And if you shit the fly, don’t worry! –Wally

Buggin’ Out

Cagar la mosca

What it translates to: To shit the fly

What it means: To make a small mistake

Ser un bicho

What it translates to: To be a bug

What it means: To be a strange or eccentric person

Ser una mosquita muerta

What it translates to: To be a dead mosquito

What it means: To be a person who seems innocent or harmless but is actually cunning or deceitful

Tener malas pulgas

What it translates to: To have bad fleas

What it means: To be irritable or have a bad temper

Pet Sounds

Dar gato por liebre

What it translates to: To give a cat instead of a hare

What it means: To deceive someone by substituting one thing for another

Dormir como un lirón

What it translates to: To sleep like a dormouse

What it means: To sleep deeply

Estar como el perro y el gato

What it translates to: To be like the dog and the cat

What it means: To be in a constant state of conflict

Llevarse como el perro y el gato

What it translates to: To get along like the dog and the cat

What it means: To have a hostile relationship

Ser un perro viejo

What it translates to: To be an old dog

What it means: To be an experienced or wise person

Ser un ratón de biblioteca

What it translates to: To be a library mouse

What it means: To be a person who spends a lot of time studying or reading

Tener un humor de perros

What it translates to: To have a dog’s humor

What it means: To be in a bad mood

All Wet

Estar como una foca

What it translates to: To be like a seal

What it means: To be overweight or to have gained a lot of weight

Ser un pez gordo

What it translates to: To be a fat fish

What it means: To be an important or influential person

Ser un sapo

What it translates to: To be a toad

What it means: To be a snitch or a tattletale

Bird-Brained

Estar en la edad del pavo

What it translates to: To be in the age of the turkey

What it means: To be a teenager and going through a difficult or awkward phase

Ser un búho

What it translates to: To be an owl

What it means: To be a night owl, someone who stays up late

Ser un loro

What it translates to: To be a parrot

What it means: To be someone who talks a lot or repeats what others say

Ser un pavo real

What it translates to: To be a peacock

What it means: To be arrogant or to show off

Tener ojos de águila

What it translates to: To have eagle eyes

What it means: To have great vision or to be very observant

Tener pájaros en la cabeza

What it translates to: To have birds in your head

What it means: To be absent-minded (bird-brained) or to have unrealistic ideas

Animal Farm

Estar como una cabra

What it translates to: To be like a goat

What it means: To act crazy

Ponerse como un burro

What it translates to: To become like a donkey

What it means: To become very angry

Ser un burro

What it translates to: To be a donkey

What it means: To be stubborn or slow-witted

Ser un cabrón

What it translates to: To be a big goat

What it means: Depending on the context, it can be used to describe a jerk or a dumbass

Ser un gallina

What it translates to:  To be a chicken

What it means: To be a chicken, a coward

In the Wild

Ser un león en la cama

What it translates to: To be a lion in bed

What it means: To be good in bed

Ser un lince

What it translates to: To be a lynx

What it means: To be very perceptive or to have a sharp mind

Ser un ratón de campo

What it translates to: To be a field mouse

What it means: To be shy or introverted

Ser un tigre

What it translates to: To be a tiger

What it means: To be very strong, brave or skillful

Ser una víbora

What it translates to: To be a viper

What it means: To be a malicious or treacherous person

Ser un zorro

What it translates to: To be a fox

What it means: To be sly or cunning

Tener memoria de elefante

What it translates to: To have an elephant’s memory

What it means: To have a great memory

---

Me cago en la leche!

Learn some essential Spanish swear words and vulgar expressions!

Beltane: Get Fired Up for the Wiccan Fertility Festival

The history of Beltane, from bonfires to maypoles. Plus, how to perform a Wiccan Beltane ritual and cast a witch’s ladder love spell. 

Beltane might have started with the ancient peoples of Western Europe — but celebrations still take place nowadays.

Who knew that jumping over flames was the key to making babies?

The ancient Celts, that’s who. The practice was a staple of the holiday known as Beltane. 

Now a Wiccan holiday, Beltane is traditionally celebrated as a spring festival, usually on or around May 1 in the Northern Hemisphere. (You can imagine how it has influenced modern May Day celebrations.) It marks the midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice, which means that it is a cross-quarter festival, falling halfway between two of the four major solar festivals of the year (the equinoxes and solstices). However, some people consider Beltane to be a summer festival, as it is often associated with the beginning of the summer season and the longer, warmer days that come with it.

“Participants would jump over fires or pass through them for purification and blessings — and to increase their chance of getting knocked up. ”

“The celebration of Beltane was linked to the ancient Celtic calendar, which divided the year into two halves, light and dark. Beltane was a time of transition between the two, marking the beginning of the light half of the year,” Peter Berresford Ellis writes in The Druids.

Queen Guinevere’s Maying by John Collier, 1900

While its exact origins are shrouded in mystery, we do know that Beltane has been celebrated in one form or another for thousands of years. It’s believed to have originated as a Celtic festival to celebrate fertility and growth, which is why people would dance around a giant phallic symbol (the maypole) and leap over bonfires. Apparently, this was all very conducive to fertility. Couples would join in the fun and leap together to cement their bond. 

This bonfire is too high to jump over. Many Wiccans and neopagans today prefer to jump over a candle.

From Fertility to Frivolity: The Flaming Hot History of Beltane

Bonfires are a big part of Beltane. 

Back in the day, people would light giant fires and lead their livestock through the flames to purify them from disease and ensure fertility for the coming year. (I don’t recommend trying that at home, folks.)

It wasn’t just about the animals, though. Bonfires were set ablaze for the community to celebrate the returning warmth and light of the sun. Participants would jump over the fires or pass through them for purification and blessings — and to increase their chance of getting knocked up. 

It’s not certain, but a man and woman might have come together sexually during the rite of Beltane in the past as way to symbolize the union of the Goddess and God.

Ritual sex might have been practiced at Beltane. 

In addition, people would maybe even indulge in a little bit of ritual hanky-panky (if you catch my drift). There’s evidence to suggest that ritual copulation may have been part of Beltane celebrations in pagan times. Some historical accounts describe Beltane as a time when couples would come together in a sacred union to symbolize the union of the Goddess and the God, or the masculine and feminine energies of the universe. 

Walpurgisnacht/Hexensabbat by Orlando Antonio, 1878

Beltane gets connected to Walpurgis Night.  

Beltane is sometimes celebrated on the same day as Walpurgis Night (Walpurgisnacht or Valborgsmässoafton), a pagan festival observed in parts of Northern Europe. The festival is named after Saint Walpurga, an 8th century Christian missionary who was believed to have fought against pagan customs and beliefs (boo, hiss). 

In Germanic folklore, Walpurgis Night was believed to be a time when witches and supernatural beings gathered on mountaintops to hold revels and celebrate the coming of spring. Bonfires were lit to ward off evil spirits, and people would dress in costumes or wear masks to avoid being recognized by the evil creatures. 

Around Beltane, pilgrims tie ribbons to trees when visiting this holy well at Cranfield in Northern Ireland.

On Beltane, holy wells or natural springs were visited. 

This was yet another way to celebrate the return of life and fertility to the land. Some of the customs that people performed at holy wells on Beltane were:

• Leaving offerings of flowers or small personal items, including tying ribbons to nearby branches

• Walking clockwise around the well while praying for good health

• Drinking or washing with the water, which was thought to have healing properties

• Collecting dew from nearby grass or flowers, believed to bring beauty and youthfulness

Hawthorns are connected to the fairy realm.

The hawthorn tree, a symbol of Beltane, are portals to the fairy realm. 

Hawthorn trees are a type of thorny shrub that have white flowers in the spring. In Celtic culture, hawthorns were considered sacred and connected to the fairy realm. They were often found near holy wells or on fairy hills, where they marked the entrance to the land of fey. 

At Beltane, people would decorate hawthorn trees with ribbons and flowers as a way of making wishes or honoring the fairies. However, hawthorns were also feared, as they could bring misfortune if harmed. There was a strong taboo against cutting down a hawthorn tree or bringing its flowers into the house. 

Some legends say that if you sit under a hawthorn tree on Beltane, you might see fairies — or even be snatched away by them. 

Beltane is the perfect time to embrace new beginnings and focus on the things you want to change.

Modern-Day Wiccan Beltane Practices: Transformation Time

Beltane is also a time to embrace new beginnings, to take a long, hard look at your life and ask, “What do I want to achieve? What do I want to change?” And then you can dance around the bonfire and hope that the pagan gods give you a little nudge in the right direction.

“Beltane is a time to celebrate the life force within us and around us. It’s a time to honor the wildness and vitality of nature, and to tap into that energy to bring about positive change in our lives,” writes Phyllis Curott in Book of Shadows. 

Here are some ways for modern-day Wiccans to celebrate Beltane:

Less explicit than ritualized coupling, maypoles are sometimes viewed as phallic, while the ribbons represent fertility. As they twine together, it’s a mingling of masculine and feminine energies.

Create a maypole. 

You can decorate your maypole with ribbons or other symbols of the season, and dance around it with friends or family.

Cast a love spell. 

Beltane is a time when the energies of love and fertility are said to be at their strongest. Many Wiccans choose to perform love spells during this time, whether to attract a new partner or to strengthen an existing relationship. I imagine it’s also a good time to work some magic to try to get pregnant.

Perform a garden blessing. 

At Beltane, the Earth is coming back to life, and many Wiccans choose to bless their gardens or outdoor spaces at this time. You can create a simple ritual by lighting a candle and incense and reciting a blessing for the plants and creatures that call your garden home.

Welcome in warmer days, manifest love or pregnancy and work on your personal growth during a Wiccan Beltane ritual.

A Beltane Ritual

A Wiccan Beltane ritual is a way to honor the sacred union of the Goddess and the God, celebrate the fertility of nature, and express your personal goals and desires. There are many ways to perform a Beltane ritual, but here’s one example. What I love about Wicca is that you can always adapt any practices to your preferences and circumstances. 

Find a tree branch to place on your altar. 

Add ribbons, flowers, candles, incense (rose, violet or mugwort) and any other items that represent Beltane to you on your altar. You will also need a cup of a ritual beverage (such as wine or water), some bread or cake for an offering, and any spell components you want to use.

Take a ritual bath and dress yourself for Beltane. 

Baths aren’t necessary, but it’s a good way to purify yourself and get into the zone. As for your ritual outfit, bonus points for flowers in your hair and a wreath or garland around your neck. Floral patterns are always a good idea at Beltane. 

Light the candles and incense and ground yourself. 

Cast a circle starting from the south (the direction of fire). 

Chant:

By the powers of the Sky Father
The burst of wind, the shower of rain
The bolt of lightning, the clap of thunder
By the powers of the Earth Mother
The strong mountain, the fertile soil 
The rushing river, the fragrant wildflowers
May this circle be cast 
A place between the worlds
On this Beltane Sabbat
Joining the powers above
And the powers below
So mote it be.

Invoke the Goddess and God. 

Do this in whatever way feels right to you. You can use statues, candles or pictures to represent them on your altar. You can also recite a poem or prayer dedicated to them. For example:

Blessed be the Lady of Spring
Who brings life and joy to all things. 
Blessed be the Lord of Fire 
Who sparks passion and desire. 

Express your gratitude for all that you have received. 

Think about how you have grown physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually in this season. Thank the deities for their gifts and guidance.

State your intentions for what you want to manifest in your life. 

What areas of your life need more growth, creativity or love? Write them down on ribbons. Tie the ribbons around your tree branch while saying what you want to attract into your life.

Make a witch’s ladder to bring love into your life. 

Braid three ribbons (pink, red and white). Weave in objects that symbolize love, such as rose petals, heart-shaped charms and rose quartz crystals. 

As you do, chant:

Love come near, love come fast
Love be strong, love be lasting
Love be kind, love be true 
Love be mine, I welcome you.

Hang the witch’s ladder somewhere you can see it often.

Celebrate by eating and drinking your offerings. 

Thank the Goddess and God for sharing their energy with you.

Close the circle. 

Do this in the reverse order from how you invoked them.

Say: 

The circle is open but unbroken. 
May peace and love remain within. 
Merry meet
Merry part
And merry meet again.

St. George’s Kermis With the Dance Around the Maypole by Pieter Brueghel the Younger, 1627

As if longer, warmer days weren’t enough to celebrate, Beltane’s also got pole dancing, leaping over flames, tempting fairies, casting love spells and maybe even a little outdoor sex. It’s the ultimate spring fling. –Wally

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Pretty in Pink: Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel

Discover the strange history of this iconic church, the lively Jardín it overlooks and the riotous Festival of San Miguel. 

Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel, an icon of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico

“It’s just like the Disney Castle!” 

It’s a refrain you’ll hear often when you show pictures of the iconic church in San Miguel de Allende. Only, for my money, it’s cooler, cuz it’s pink — and I’d much rather be in Mexico than Disney World. 

“The church was designed by a self-taught indigenous stonemason named Zeferino Gutiérrez, who was inspired by a postcard of a Belgian church.

Apparently, Gutiérrez had never seen a cathedral in person, so he just winged it, scratching his design in the sand with a stick. ”

You’ll never tire of seeing the Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel (they really need to come up with a solid nickname). And the good news is, almost every time you head out to explore the charming colonial town, you’ll find yourself passing by the church and the main square, known locally as el Jardín. 

Behind the church is a quaint cobblestone street.

A Towering Legacy: Construction of San Miguel’s Most Famous Landmark

The exact date of construction is a matter of debate. There’s a convoluted history on the church’s website, stating that the first iteration was in 1564 — while others believe it wasn’t completed until the 1700s. The church has undergone so many renovations and additions over the years that it’s difficult to discern what the original structure looked like.

Perhaps all those renovations is why San Miguel Arcángel is a delightful mishmash of different architectural elements. The exterior features a Neo-Gothic façade that was added in the late 19th century, while the underlying structure is more Mexican Baroque. 

San Miguel de Allende is for lovers.

But let’s face it: The real stars of the show are the towering spires. They’re the stuff of legend, designed by a self-taught indigenous stonemason named Zeferino Gutiérrez, who was inspired by a postcard of a Belgian church. Apparently, Gutiérrez had never seen a cathedral in person, so he just winged it, scratching his design in the sand with a stick. 

Whatever the case, the end result is magical — he created those fantastical, otherworldly spires that look like they belong in a fairytale.

Part of its undeniable charm is the fact that it’s pink. The stones used in the Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel’s façade are cantera, a volcanic rock likely sourced from nearby quarries. Over time, the stones have taken on a more vibrant shade of pink, winning the hearts of visitors and locals alike.

Duke sits on the steps at the side of the church.

The church sort of leans to one side, which has led to various theories about how it came to be that way. Some say it was built askew on purpose to ward off evil spirits or to align with the position of the sun. Others attribute its slant to an earthquake or even the Devil himself. In reality, the tilt is likely due to the sandy soil San Miguel Arcángel was built on, which has shifted over time. This natural phenomenon is known as subsidence and is a common problem in many parts of the world.

In recent years, efforts have been made to stabilize the church and prevent further subsidence. However, the tilt remains a distinctive feature of the Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel and adds to its unique character and charm. Hey, it worked for that Tower of Pisa.

The Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel has seen some violence over the years.

The Cristero War and the Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel 

The San Miguel Arcángel parish has seen some real action over the years. For one thing, it was witness to the bloody Cristero War of the 1920s. This violent conflict pitted Catholic rebels against the anti-clerical government of Mexico, with both sides fighting tooth and nail for their beliefs. San Miguel Arcángel wasn’t spared from the brutality — bullets and bombs left the church’s walls scarred and pockmarked. In addition, some of the priests of San Miguel Arcángel were killed or exiled during the conflict. 

The church was later repaired, a testament to the resilience of the locals and a symbol of Mexican history and faith.

The interior of the Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel didn’t go entirely as planned.

A Work in Progress: The Interior of Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel 

While I’m utterly smitten with the whimsical exterior of the Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel, the interior ain’t too shabby, either. It also features a variety of architectural styles, including Gothic, Baroque and Neoclassical. The high ceilings and intricate details create a sense of grandeur and awe. The main altar is adorned with gold leaf and features a statue of San Miguel, aka Saint Michael the Archangel, the church’s namesake. 

Wally thinks this would be a great place to propose to someone.

Off to the side is a smaller chapel adorned with surprisingly modern murals that look Cubist. 

A chapel in the back corner of the church has a Cubist-esque mural showing indigenous Mexicans on one side and Catholic monks on the other.

As impressive as the interior is, though, it’s not quite finished — or what was first intended. In fact, the original plans for the interior were much more grandiose, but due to a lack of funding and resources, many of the ideas were never fully realized. 

On the side of the church is a statue of Fray Juan de San Miguel, who founded the city and was, in turn, named for Saint Michael the Archangel.

Saintly Swordsman: The Legend of San Miguel

So who exactly is the archangel the church is named for? 

Well, with a name like Miguel, which means “Who Is Like God,” it’s not surprising that he’s the commander of the heavenly host. He’s often depicted with a sword, ready to do battle against Satan and his minions. 

San Miguel is also the patron saint of police officers and soldiers. 

Plaza Allende, commonly known as the Jardín, is the bustling center of this charming colonial town.

The Heart of San Miguel: Exploring the Jardín, the City’s Vibrant Central Park

Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel overlooks the main town square, the Jardín, formally known as Plaza Allende. This lively square is the beating heart of San Miguel de Allende. If you’re looking to people-watch, hear a mariachi band, pose with the giant puppets called mojigangas or grab some street food (we had elotes one night that were delicious), this is the place to be. 

Dancing by the gazebo

A mariachi trumpeter

Mariachi bands entertain the crowds in the plaza in front of the church.

The Jardín is situated right in the center of town, which makes it a prime location for all sorts of festivities and events. It’s flanked by the church on one side, and rows of shops and restaurants on the others, so there’s always something to see and do.

Grab dinner at the elote stand.

Wally digs into his elote.

But the Jardín wasn’t always the lovely green space it is today. In fact, it used to be a marketplace where vendors sold everything from produce to livestock. It wasn’t until the early 20th century that the town decided to convert it into a park, complete with benches, a gazebo and trees that have been trimmed into circles.

If you can, time your trip to coincide with the Feast of San Miguel at the end of September.

Feast of San Miguel and the Crazy Castillos of the Town’s Biggest Fiesta

Duke and I happened to be in SMA during the Feast of San Miguel — but, as odd as it might sound, no one told us about it! Thank God we happened to be walking through the Jardín and noticed that they were erecting wooden scaffolds in front of the church. 

We looked at a flyer pasted to the wall that listed local events. Lo and behold, it was none other than the town’s biggest frickin’ festival! 

There was a café on the corner we’d been wanting to check out, so we popped in there and got some drinks while we waited for the festivities to begin. 

The week-long Festival of San Miguel, aka La Alborada, takes place around September 29, the saint’s feast day, usually culminating on the following weekend. 

The festival’s firework show was the most impressive we’ve ever seen — in part because of the gorgeous backdrop of the church spires.

And what a festival it was! A crowd gathered in front of Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel, and mariachis played their tunes. But the pièce de résistance were the castillos, those towers we had seen, rising up like giant matchstick sculptures in front of the church. 

Local craftsmen build these towering infernos, using skills and techniques that have been passed down through generations. It’s truly a sight to behold. 

The castillos are a wonder to behold.

When they’re lit, stand back — and let the sparks fly! The pyrotechnicians manning the castillos are like mad scientists, firing off bursts of firecrackers in all directions, painting the night sky above San Miguel Arcángel in a kaleidoscope of colors amid ear-splitting booms. The fireworks on the castillos emit high-pitched wails, spin like Catherine wheels, and form images and words. The whole spectacle was unlike anything we had seen before. 

Forget the drawn-out firework shows you see in the States; this was a machine-gun riot of color and explosions — the best we’ve ever seen. A huge grin was plastered on my face, and I’d turn to my neighbors, strangers united by sharing this marvel, and we’d shake our heads and laugh, unable to believe we were witnessing such magic. –Wally

Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel from el Mirador, overlooking the town of SMA

Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel

Principal s/n
Zona Centro
37700 San Miguel de Allende
Guanajuato
Mexico

 

Ramadan Revealed: The Rigorous Rituals of the Islamic Holiday

Eye-opening insights into Muslim practices, including fasting, iftar, suhoor, zakat and the Night of Power. 

Ramadan: when Muslims don’t eat, drink water, smoke, have sex or doing anything bad during the day for an entire month?! Learn more about this holiday.

“Ramadan’s been interesting,” my friend living in Qatar once told me. “It’s only been two days and it’s already a country full of cranky, sweaty, dehydrated, hungry people. It’s no way to live.”

The concept of not eating, or even being allowed to drink water, during daylight hours for an entire month seems so foreign to us Westerners — and, yes, downright bonkers. It can’t be healthy, for one thing. 

“Ramadan is like Lent for Catholics.

Only instead of giving up something you love, you’re giving up something you need to survive. ”

You see, Ramadan is a bit like Lent for Catholics. Only instead of giving up something you love, you’re giving up something you need to survive. 

Ramadan is a time of spiritual reflection, self-discipline and community. But let’s be real — it’s also a time of intense hunger, caffeine and nicotine withdrawal, and dramatic mood swings.

But these sweeping generalizations miss the point. I didn’t have the full story of why Muslims celebrate Ramadan. So I decided to do some digging. 

Fascinating Facts About Ramadan

Ramadan is based on the lunar calendar, which means it starts 11 days earlier each year than the previous year. It takes 33 years for Ramadan to cycle back to a particular starting date. And once in a very blue moon, like in 1997, two Ramadans will fall within the same calendar year. The next time that will happen: 2033. 

The holiday began in 624 CE and commemorates the month in which the Prophet Muhammad is said to have received the first revelations of the Quran, the holy book of Islam, from none other than the angel Gabriel. 

The angel Gabriel delivers the Quran to the Prophet Muhammed — the event celebrated during Ramadan.

The word Ramadan comes from ramida, an Arabic root that means scorching heat or dryness. And no, it’s not referring to people’s parched throats on a hot day but the fact that Ramadan originally fell during the summer season.

Fasting during Ramadan is one of the five pillars of Islam, which are the basic duties that every devout Muslim must follow. The other pillars are prayer, declaration of faith, charity and pilgrimage.

Some years there are more hours of fasting due to longer daylight hours. The hours of fasting also change substantially throughout the world based on the hours of daylight in various locations. 

Not everyone has to fast, though. There are some exceptions, such as children (you’re on the hook only after puberty), and those who are elderly, sick, traveling, pregnant, menstruating, breastfeeding…or all of the above. You can either make up the fasts later or feed a poor person for each day you miss.

Fasting during Ramadan isn’t just about abstaining from food and drink — you have to forgo sex, smoking, and anything else deemed indecent or excessive. Muslims also try to avoid anger, gossip and bad deeds during the month.

You might think that fasting during Ramadan would work as a crash diet. But that’s not always the case. In fact, some people actually gain weight because they overeat after breaking their fast at sunset and shortly thereafter fall into bed. 

Once the sun has gone down, people can break their fast with the meal called iftar.

Iftar and Suhoor: Time to Stuff Yourself Silly

Break their fast you say? Well, it’s not like people could survive not eating or drinking water for an entire month. So, once the sun has set, Muslims have a meal called iftar, which traditionally starts with dates and water, as well as other foods like soup, rice and bread. 

Dates are the traditional food to break your fast once the sun sets during Ramadan.

Iftar is a time for celebration and indulgence. It’s a chance to gather with loved ones, share delicious food and thank Allah for the blessings of the day. 

People prepare plates of food for iftar. It must be hell cooking delicious-smelling dishes when you haven’t eaten all day.

Muslims then catch a few Z’s before getting up before dawn to eat a meal called suhoor. It’s a delicate balance between filling up enough to last until sunset without feeling like you’re going to burst. 

Prayer in Cairo by Jean-Leon Gerome, 1865

Prayer and Charity: The Chance for Forgiveness 

During Ramadan, Muslims attend special night prayers called taraweeh at mosques. They seek to deepen their relationship with Allah and cultivate a sense of spiritual peace and tranquility.

There’s also a strong focus on helping others. Islamic teachings encourage Muslims to set aside a percentage of their accumulated wealth to donate to charity (zakat) and do good works for the neediest in their community. “The best charity is that given in Ramadan,” Muhammed said.

The Night of Power is a mysterious occurrence during Ramadan. Muslims can seek it through intense prayer at a mosque during the last 10 days of the holy month.

The Quest for the Night of Power 

One of the most important moments of Ramadan is the Night of Power, or Laylat al-Qadr. The Quran declares that it’s “better than a thousand months” (Surah Al-Qadr, 97:3). 

I don’t quite understand what the Night of Power entails; it sounds a bit like an epiphany. According to the Prophet Muhammad, it’s an opportunity to ask for forgiveness of your sins.

But the Night of Power is elusive, mysterious, intensely personal. One way to seek the Night of Power is through the practice of i’tikaf, which involves secluding yourself in a mosque for the last 10 days of Ramadan. This intense focus on prayer and contemplation increases your chances of finding the Night of Power.

Many Muslims spend more time praying during Ramadan.

Another way to seek the Night of Power is through increased acts of worship, such as reciting the Quran, performing extra prayers or giving zakat. 

Finally, Muslims can seek the Night of Power through supplication and heartfelt dua, the act of calling upon Allah. Good news: “A fasting person, upon breaking his fast, has a supplication that will not be rejected,” Muhammad said. 

Massive amounts of people come together to celebrate Eid al-Fitr, the end of Ramadan.

Eid Al-Fitr: A Well-Earned Celebration 

After the month of fasting, prayer and spiritual reflection, Muslims around the world come together to celebrate Eid al-Fitr, the Festival of Breaking the Fast. (It’s pronounced like Eed al-Fitter.) It’s a time of joy, feasting and giving thanks.

The day begins with the Eid prayer, followed by a sermon in which the imam reminds the community of the lessons learned during Ramadan and encourages them to continue their spiritual growth throughout the year. 

People go to a mosque on Eid al-Fitr — and after the sermon, the feast begins.

After the prayer and sermon, Muslims exchange greetings of “Eid Mubarak” and engage in acts of charity and kindness. 

Finally, Eid al-Fitr is a time of feasting and indulgence, with traditional sweets and delicacies being shared among family and friends. 

Girl Reciting Quran by Osman Hamdi Bey, 1880

Ramadan and Self-Transformation 

I now have a better understanding of Ramadan. The religious holiday is a spiritual detox, a month-long opportunity for Muslims to purify their hearts, minds and souls. It’s a time to leave behind bad habits and negative behaviors, and focus on strengthening their connection with Allah and becoming better individuals.

It’s also an opportunity to wipe the slate clean. As the Prophet Muhammad said, “Whoever observes fasts during the month of Ramadan out of sincere faith and hoping to attain Allah’s rewards, all his past sins will be forgiven.”

Ramadan is a time of self-reflection, charity and forgiveness.

I’m sure that the intense sacrifice Muslims make during Ramadan leads to some pretty powerful revelations about one’s self and helps people be more empathetic to the less fortunate.  

“Ramadan is a time for us to remember what is essential in life, to let go of our attachments to the trivial and the mundane, and to connect with the divine and the transcendent,” says Omid Safi, a professor of Islamic studies at Duke University. 

Maybe that’s not so unhealthy after all. –Wally

Centro Cultural San Pablo: A Hidden Wonder in Oaxaca

An art-filled secret alley, award-winning design and a mission to preserve the indigenous heritage of the region, thanks in part to the Biblioteca de Investigación Juan de Córdova. Oaxaca’s cultural center is where culture and community come together. 

The cool stonework in the passage leading to the cultural center

It opens up like a secret passage. At first we noticed the distinctive and charming herringbone pattern on the ground, chevrons of stone interspersed with grass. 

We were drawn toward it, mesmerized. Then we looked up and around — and discovered a wonderland squeezed between two massive edifices. We had happened upon the art-filled alleyway that leads to the Centro Cultural San Pablo in the Mexican art-filled and mezcal-soaked town of Oaxaca. 

The Alleyway Art Spaces at Centro Cultural San Pablo

Outside the Centro Cultural San Pablo, in the alleyway that leads to its entrance, there’s a gallery to the left if you enter off of Miguel Hidalgo, as well as a smaller exhibit space at the other end (which had a three-dimensional re-creation of Van Gogh’s painting Bedroom in Arles). 

It’s not hard to figure out what this portion is called the Plaza de los Paraguas (Umbrella Plaza).

A diorama at one end of the alley was a real-life re-creation of Van Gogh’s painting Bedroom in Arles.

But the alley itself is the coolest part. It’s like walking through an immersive art exhibit — and it’s free for all to enjoy. At its center is the Plaza de los Paraguas, or Umbrella Plaza, an art installation of colorful umbrellas that form a canopy overhead. 

Once you’ve had your fun exploring the alley, it’s time to head into the cultural center — which is no less impressive. 

The interior courtyard of the Centro Cultural San Pablo had seats set up for a musical performance.

Convent-Turned-Cultural-Gem: Centro Cultural San Pablo 

The Centro Cultural San Pablo is housed in a massive structure that was originally a convent for the Dominican order back in the 16th century — and shares the building with the boutique hotel we stayed at, Casa Antonieta, and the Oaxaca Textile Museum. A local philanthropic organization, the Alfred Harp Helú Foundation, spent 186 million pesos (about $10 million) to acquire and renovate the building.

And what a job they did! The cultural center opened in 2011. Once you step inside, you completely forget you’re in an ancient edifice. In an interview with ArchDaily, Gabriela Carrillo explained that when designing the cultural center, she and her partner, Mauricio Rocha, were inspired by the traditional architecture of Oaxaca. “We were looking for a language that would allow the building to be understood as part of the city,” she said. “We didn’t want it to be a foreign object that just landed there.” 

That may be the case, but in a colorful, charming and crumbling town, it certainly feels fresh and sleek. The duo has ingeniously blended a modern flair with traditional elements. 

Three sides of the main space feel as if they haven’t been updated much since the nuns made this their home. But one wall is a work of art — three stories entirely encased in glass with steel frames.  

“Our work is about finding a balance between the past and the future, between tradition and innovation,” Rocha told Wallpaper*. 

Mission accomplished. But the Centro Cultural San Pablo isn’t just a pretty face — it’s also a multifunctional space that serves the community. “The design is driven by the idea of being a cultural platform that can adapt to different types of events,” Carillo explained. 

The roof of the cultural center retracts to be open to the sky on nice days.

Rocha and Carrillo’s work on the Centro Cultural San Pablo has helped to cement their reputation as some of Mexico’s most talented architects. Their design scored them the prestigious World Architecture Festival’s Building of the Year Award in the Culture category in 2018. The project was also a finalist for the Mies Crown Hall Americas Prize and was selected for the ArchDaily Building of the Year Award in 2019.   

A wander through the first-floor gallery

A Creative Hub and Cultural Playground: Exploring the Vibrant Events Scene at Centro Cultural San Pablo

Since it opened in 2011, the Centro Cultural San Pablo has become a beloved institution in Oaxaca, known for its innovative programming and commitment to promoting the arts and culture of the region.

For locals and visitors alike, the cultural center is a hub of activity, with events and exhibitions that showcase the diversity and richness of Oaxacan culture. Film, concerts, conferences, presentations and classes, from traditional dance to pottery — there’s always something going on at the center. 

Sculptures of musicians lined one wall of the courtyard.

While we were exploring, we wandered through an art exhibit on the first floor, then watched the staff set up for a musical performance by a female harpist. 

A harpist preps for her concert.

We also passed a table near the entrance displaying a variety of native handicrafts. I assumed it was educational, but Duke somehow deduced the objects were actually for sale. We both gravitated towards a small tureen in the shape of an armadillo (because obviously). And for 510 pesos (about $26 at the time), the price was right. The wares were a selection of items from the nearby shop Andares del Arte Popular. 

A friendly young woman explained that we’d have to pay at the store across the street, but we should explore the center, and she’d walk us over when we were done. 

The Biblioteca de Investigación Juan de Córdova is open to the public. Its mission is to preserve the indigenous cultures of Oaxaca.

Preserving Mesoamerican Heritage at the Biblioteca de Investigación Juan de Córdova

The stunning glass wall is part of a small research library that’s open to the public. The Biblioteca de Investigación Juan de Córdova has a cool mission: It’s dedicated to preserving and sharing the rich cultural heritage of the state of Oaxaca. They conduct research on Mesoamerican cultures, organize events to share it with others, and work to preserve and digitize their collections.

A side passage is visually arresting — though we have no idea of its purpose.

Mi Casa de la Cultura Oaxaqueña Es Su Casa de la Cultura Oaxaqueña

All in all, Centro Cultural San Pablo has made a profound impact on the cultural landscape of Oaxaca and beyond. Through its innovative programming, commitment to social justice and celebration of the region’s rich traditions, it has become a beacon of creativity and hope, inspiring generations of artists, activists and cultural enthusiasts.

Glass pillars create an interesting vista in one of the upstairs windows.

It’s no wonder the Centro Cultural San Pablo is also known as Casa de la Cultura Oaxaqueña, or House of Oaxacan Culture. This nickname reflects the cultural center’s mission to promote and celebrate the rich traditions and diverse cultures of Oaxaca state. If there’s one thing that becomes abundantly clear when you visit this region, it’s that Oaxacans are fiercely proud of their heritage and take great pains to preserve it. It’s what makes this such an incredible place to visit. –Wally

The interesting alleyway drew us in immediately — only later did we discover the cultural center.

Centro Cultural San Pablo

Miguel Hidalgo 907
Centro
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
Oaxaca
Mexico

Hours: 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. (Monday through Saturday)
10 a.m. to 6 p.m. (Sunday)