Staging channels uncertainty into action

Daniel López Aguilar

La Jornada Newspaper, Thursday, July 17, 2025, p. 4

Supernatural beings, guardians of a cosmos on the brink of collapse, question humanity's survival on a planet that seems to have lost its patience. What happens when the human essence distances itself from its own nature?

This reflection is raised in Bonsai, the debut film by the Physical Theatre Company, which constructs a visual poetic approach to show the fragility of human existence.

The premiere will be today at 8 p.m. at the Arts Forum of the National Center for the Arts (Cenart), with a cast made up of graduates of the National School of Theatrical Arts.

The project was born in response to the disruptions caused by the pandemic and serves as a collective refuge for a generation of artists seeking to create and maintain their own creative platform.

For Alejandro León Espinosa, artistic director and one of the protagonists, the creation of this company arose from an urgent need: to channel uncertainty into action.

The COVID-19 pandemic abruptly interrupted our academic preparation, but it also prompted us to ask ourselves what we could do for ourselves , she noted in an interview with La Jornada . The path isn't easy, especially when those who already have recognition are privileged .

The plot unfolds in a fantastical universe where the environment takes on unusual shapes and sounds: a jaguar, a hummingbird, a dolphin, and an eagle represent these protectors of the cosmos. They face a crossroads: the Earth must be destroyed to preserve its essence, as the natural environment shows signs of exhaustion in the face of human indifference.

The body communicates what words cannot reach.

From the first days of rehearsal, under the direction of Hugo M. Bolaños, the group explored the community with exercises that allowed them to adopt natural aspects such as rain, earthquakes, and storms.

Improvisation was key to our creative process , added León Espinosa (Tuxtla Gutiérrez, Chiapas, 1991). It pushed us to be a force of nature, to communicate with our bodies what words can't .

The show brings together six performers on stage: Andrea Lara, Andrea Aguilera, Andrea Cedeño, Citlali Chong, Ximena Sotomayor, and Alejandro León himself. A puppet, manipulated by Natalia Leza, plays the surviving child, a symbol of hope and uncertainty.

The stage design maintains the atmosphere of rebirth and fragility: the floor evokes the bark of a tree that has seen the passing of seasons. Two transparent fabrics, embroidered with plants and flowers, suggest the earth in transition, between death and rebirth.

The instrumental music chosen by Bolaños accompanies the movement and marks the pulse of a planet that breathes and suffers alongside its inhabitants.

The body acts as an instrument to tell a story that transcends verbal discourse. Alejandro León recalled that his training at the National School of Theatre Arts always included movement as an essential language.

"We don't just pay attention to words; we also learn to observe others, to feel their presence. This creates a collective fabric where everyone contributes from their own sensitivity. This horizontality is key to balancing direction and action, thanks to constant communication and the division of tasks.

"I hope this production reflects something of the experience of those who attend, especially the young people who, like us, experienced isolation. I want them to see that projects are possible, that this space welcomes new voices, and that theater can be an act of resistance."

“There's still time to save the planet. When I see a tree, I feel like I'm part of something bigger, a nature we mustn't forget. Asphalt, cars, excessive consumption... everything points to a path that threatens what we love. The Earth is a living system that, sooner or later, will decide to say enough,” he concluded.

The Bonsai season begins today and concludes on the 27th, with performances on Thursdays and Fridays at 8 p.m., Saturdays at 7 p.m., and Sundays at 6 p.m. at the Cenart Arts Forum (Río Churubusco 79, Country Club Churubusco neighborhood).

Tickets cost 150 pesos, with a special promotion on Thursdays for 30 pesos and 2 for 1 on Wednesdays for online purchases.

Merry MacMasters

La Jornada Newspaper, Thursday, July 17, 2025, p. 5

The writer and journalist Carlos Monsiváis (1938-2010) was a passionate collector of the miniature sculptures of Oaxacan artisan Roberto Ruiz (1928-2008). Over the years, he acquired hundreds of these carved and sculpted bone objects, depicting a variety of themes, from skeletons, catrinas, archangels, and devils to religious images, national heroes, and scenes from everyday life inspired by the artist's homeland.

He even wrote a book about the 1988 recipient of the National Prize for Sciences and Arts in the area of Arts and Traditions. For Monsiváis, Ruiz's obsession with skulls "stems organically from his search for essential forms, for rigorous presentations of the popular and the traditional. Displaying his sensitivity in variegated ensembles (where the forced promiscuity of the figures engenders unexpected couplings, lines of sensuality that birth offers), he also uses the most orthodox motifs, the landscapes of costumbrismo, the amorous love of even-numbered couples . While the themes vary, the constant is the attitude of maestro Ruiz, who deeply immerses himself in each piece and never compromises in intensity or imaginative power."

Apparently, the only teacher Ruiz recognized was José Guadalupe Posada.

In 2008, the Museo del Estanquillo (Carlos Monsiváis Collections Museum) dedicated an exhibition to him. Now, the museum returns to the theme with the presentation of Roberto Ruiz: Giant of the Miniature , featuring more than 600 pieces, all collected by the writer. The Estanquillo Museum houses the largest collection of miniature sculptures by the man who developed his body of work in Ciudad Nezahualcóyotl. The works span from 1960 to 1990.

Born on March 2, 1928, in Miahuatlán, Ruiz studied through the second year of primary school. At the age of 6, he began playing with clay, which he collected from the floor of a pottery workshop across the street from his house, to mold figurines. At 9, he turned to wood. When he was sent to shepherding, he amused himself by making wooden figures from what he saw in the fields, using sharp tools, a machete, or a knife.

Family pressures forced him to work, and in the kitchen of a bakery, he discovered his future career, turning bread dough into figures. At school, instead of doing what his teacher suggested, he filled his notebook with drawings. He never stopped making his figurines, budding miniatures of dancers, Tehuanas, and nativity scenes.

Around 1943, the teenager traveled to the city of Oaxaca to sell his creations. At some point, he realized that his sensitivity, manual skill, and the tools he had weren't enough to make more elaborate works. He then toyed with the idea of attending school to better learn what he did in a rustic way, but such a school didn't exist.

Faced with his poor life prospects, Ruiz moved to Mexico City in search of his dream school. He settled in the Las Palmas neighborhood of Ciudad Nezahualcóyotl, married, and gradually developed and explored his own imagination. With complete mastery of the tools and instruments common in dental workshops, he began to make new miniatures more in tune with his interests. He distanced himself from the stereotypes and typicalities so in demand in artisan shops and opted for figures of death that had always haunted his imagination.

Around 1957, the new themes and motifs attracted the attention of the owner of the Víctor craft store and several private individuals, including the directors of the Museum of Popular Arts and Industries, who proposed an exhibition of his miniatures. In the late 1960s, the museum's directors encouraged him to create miniatures with specific themes. This led to an increase in his income, allowing him to stop making plastic molds, which he used to support his family.

Queen Elizabeth II cameo

Of his carved works, 17 were part of an exhibition at the British Museum in 1981. Such was their success that Queen Elizabeth II posed for Ruiz to make an ivory cameo of her image. The piece was stored with the crown jewels, and the 17 pieces were moved to Buckingham Palace, where they were displayed for 28 years.

Ruiz's sculptures stand out not only for the precision of their carving, but also for the stories each one holds.

Roberto Ruiz: Giant of the Miniature will be inaugurated on Saturday at 12 noon at the Museo del Estanquillo Carlos Monsiváis Collections (Isabel la Católica 26, Historic Center, Mexico City).

Daniel López Aguilar

La Jornada Newspaper, Thursday, July 17, 2025, p. 5

Among the objects that are part of everyday life, few hold as much memory as a chair. They are silent witnesses that bear the weight of time, conversations, and silences.

This symbolic charge is the focus of SillArte , an exhibition of 13 pieces created by the creative duo Max Sanz and his wife, Guadalupe Pérez Morales. The exhibition is being held at the Hotel Casa Cantera in downtown Oaxaca.

They have a symbolic, political and religious power that has always accompanied them , Sanz explained in an interview with La Jornada .

The choice of chair also has a practical aspect. Buying one is very simple. We wanted it to remain functional and decorative at the same time.

Each work combines techniques that emphasize its uniqueness: gold leaf, liquid glass, PVC tapestry, liquid bronze, toning agents, Judean bitumen, and crackle. It's not just about beautifying them, but also about highlighting the history of those who designed, used, and preserved them.

The project was born almost by chance after several conversations with a workshop that rescues antique pieces brought from the United States. One day, we told them we had refurbished a family object, and that's where the idea of displaying the pieces came from , the Oaxacan artist recalled.

The complicity between Sanz (Natividad, Oaxaca, 1992) and Pérez Morales is another cornerstone of the project. "Two heads are better than one. We share a passion for decoration, which we studied together ," he commented.

"Within the duo, I'm more in charge of the technical and visual aspects, while Guadalupe brings a more sensitive perspective that gives character to each work. We understand each other because we speak the same creative language, although each of us has our own style."

Rather than erasing the traces of the past, we sought to keep them alive. We wanted to recover the moment in which they were created, the designs conceived for the fashion and comfort of that era , he emphasized.

The montage invites you to awaken memories: a family room, your grandparents' house, a movie scene.

These pieces of furniture have always been associated with those who valued detail and quality. Rather than repeating baroque or classical tapestry, we transformed them with contemporary colors and textures , the artist added.

Restoring and transforming old furniture helped reduce tree felling and prevented it from ending up as trash that takes centuries to decompose, she explained. It was also a sensible economic decision: it's better to invest in something that lasts rather than something disposable .

For Sanz, the Oaxacan setting gave meaning and nuance to the project. "Here, art is felt in the looms, the clay, the alebrijes... We reclaimed that identity to apply it to pieces that continue to be part of daily life."

We want the public to remember that behind every creation there was someone who thought it through, chose materials and shapes, and who still has something to say today. Chairs hold more than bodies: they hold memories, glances, and even what's left unsaid , he concluded.

With free admission, SillArte can be visited at the Hotel Casa Cantera (Privada de Reforma 103, Centro neighborhood, Oaxaca).