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The Independent
9 hours ago
- Entertainment
- The Independent
Afro Mexican actors fighting racism celebrate their heritage through their plays
There was something about her body, but Mexican actress Eréndira Castorela couldn't quite put her finger on it. Some casting directors told her she was 'too tall' to play a Mexican woman. Others insinuated her features weren't sufficiently 'Indigenous.' 'It wasn't until later that I discovered what it means to recognize oneself as Afro,' said Castorela, who subsequently confirmed her African ancestry. 'We are a diverse community which, perhaps due to discrimination, doesn't identify as such.' Her life changed after she joined Mulato Teatro, a theater company that empowers actors of African descent who are eager to forge a career despite racism. However, like most Afro Mexican activists, Castorela believes that nationwide recognition is still a long way off. 'If we look around, we'll see curly hair, high cheekbones, full lips or dark skin,' the 33-year-old said. 'But there's a wound that prevents us from recognizing ourselves.' The Afro Mexican lineage Unlike the United States, where there have been concerted efforts to boost awareness of the Black history, acknowledging Black people in Mexico has received little support. 'The concept of mixed race denies the cultural diversity that defines us as Mexicans," said María Elisa Velázquez, a researcher at the National School of Anthropology and History. "We are not only Indigenous, but also European, African and Asian.' It is well known that the Mesoamerican lands conquered by the Spaniards in the 16th century were inhabited by Indigenous people, resulting in mixed-race marriages and births. Less noted is the fact that some mixed-race Mexicans are partly descended from enslaved Black people. According to Velázquez, the evolution of communities incorporating Black people depended on their geographic location. 'Much of the Afro-descendant population established relations and coexisted alongside different Indigenous groups, resulting in very heterogeneous communities,' she said. Official figures from 2024 estimate the Afro-descendant population in Mexico is 3.1 million, mainly residing in the states of Guerrero, Morelos, Colima and Quintana Roo. While most identify as African Mexican, nearly two-thirds also perceive themselves as Indigenous. Finding her true identity Castorela — born in Morelos, a state neighboring Mexico City — recalls looking through family photo albums after first wondering if she had African ancestry. The features of her relatives left no room for doubt. 'I also realized we had created a narrative that concealed our origins,' she said. 'There was always someone saying: 'But there was a blond person in the family,' or 'Grandma had finer features.'' Castorela may not have curly hair and her skin tone may not resemble that of other Afro women, but she said her body never lied. When she was a young actress taking ballet classes, she felt constrained and uncomfortable. It wasn't until she joined African dance classes that the choreography was ideal for her height, weight and soul. 'I feel much freer because there's openness and movement,' she said. 'Identifying as African Mexican has given me the mental and spiritual peace I needed to realize there is a place where I can reflect myself.' A struggling career The theater company where Castorela and two dozen other artists collaborate was founded in the early 2000s by another Afro woman who struggled to excel as a Black actress in Mexico. Born in Colombia, a South American country where around 10% of the population is Black, Marisol Castillo said she had no clue her physical features would hinder her career. But after falling in love with Mexican playwright Jaime Chabaud and moving to his hometown, everything changed. 'Some want to force us to fit a mold, a white mold,' Castillo said. 'And when we differ, we're told: 'You're a bad actor, you're out of tune.' But we're just different.' Casting directors mostly offered Castillo roles as prostitute, exotic dancer, maid or slave. So she teamed up with Chabaud, and 'Mulato Teatro' was born. 'There was very little openness and awareness,' Chabaud said. 'So I started writing plays for her.' Tales of African and Mexican heritage The themes of Chabaud's plays are as diverse as the actors who bring his characters to life. 'African Erotic Tales of the Black Decameron' draws inspiration from oral traditions, fusing the worldview of African communities. 'Yanga" portrays a real-life 17th-century Black hero who is considered a liberator in the Mexican state of Veracruz. Among the topics inspiring Chabaud are not only African legends or characters, but stories closer to home. 'Where are you going, Mr. Opossum?' tells the tale of a 'Tlacuache,' an ancient creature from Mesoamerican mythology. In Chabaud's play, the Tlacuache steals fire from a goddess to save humanity from hunger and darkness. The creature has no divine powers, but his ability to play dead enables him to sneak past the Jaguar, a deity safeguarding the flames. 'Jaime always tells us that we should all worship Mr. Tlacuache instead of other deities,' said Aldo Martin, playing the leading role. Martin, 28, does not identify as Afro, but feels the company's work successfully portrays Mexico's diversity. 'Our ancestors are not only Indigenous, but a fusion, and these mixed heritages have resulted in a very distinct society, made of all colors, which shouldn't pigeonhole us into just being Afro,' Martin said. Diversity is welcomed at Mulato Teatro Castillo and Chabaud primarily encourage Afro-Mexican artists to work in their plays, but they also welcome amateur actors and LGBTQ+ performers. One of them is transgender actress Annya Atanasio Cadena, who began her career in plays addressing topics such as suicide, alcoholism and drug addiction in marginalized communities. 'In my (LGBTQ+) community, we know what it's like to fight against the world,' said Atanasio, who plays a trans woman in one of Chabaud's plays about gender violence. 'I'm very moved to have been given the chance to become part of this space, which also heals me,' she added. "We can show that we exist and we are more than just a story. We are bodies, desires, feelings, and the pain we carry.' Dreams of an unknown land There's a special play written and directed by Castillo: 'Dreaming of Africa.' Although she has not been able to trace the exact roots of her ancestry, her work and community make her feel closer to a long-lost home. 'When we, people from the same ethnicity meet, we call each other 'brother,'' Castillo said. 'After all, we came from the same ports.' She said she'll never forget a presentation of 'Dreaming of Africa,' when a girl from the audience approached her. 'She could barely speak, so we hugged,' Castillo said. 'Then she said: 'Thank you for telling me I'm pretty, for making me feel my worth'.' Castillo, too, learns something about herself as she acts, writes and directs. It's like peeling an onion, she said, taking layer by layer to reveal what's underneath. 'I grow with each play,' Castillo said. "I feel prouder of my roots, knowing that I can move away from stereotypes like playing a prostitute or a witch. That I, too, can be a queen.' ____ Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP's collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.
Yahoo
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Mexican photographer Graciela Iturbide wins Princess of Asturias Award for the Arts 2025
Born in Mexico City in 1942, Graciela Iturbide has for more than five decades developed a photographic oeuvre that transcends the boundaries of conventional art. Her work is characterised by a deep sensitivity to ancestral cultures and an exceptional ability to capture the essence of communities in transition. She conceives photography as a tool for cultural knowledge, exploration and research, creating images that reveal both the fragility and resilience of age-old traditions. Her distinctive style, predominantly in black and white, succeeds in conveying the complex interaction between nature and culture, while exploring the symbolic dimension of landscapes and everyday objects transformed by her artistic gaze. This approach has made Iturbide an indispensable visual chronicler for understanding the socio-cultural evolution of Mexico and Latin America. Among Graciela Iturbide's most renowned works is her extraordinary 1979 photographic record of the Seri Indians of the Sonoran Desert, a series that exemplifies her ability to document cultures at risk of disappearing with respect and artistic depth. Equally celebrated is her series on Frida Kahlo's bathroom in Coyoacán, where she captures the intimacy and symbolism of the iconic Mexican painter's personal space. Related Magnum's Cristina de Middel, Princess of Asturias Award winner laments demise of photojournalism Romanian poet Ana Blandiana wins 2024 Princess of Asturias Award for Literature Her work has transcended geographical boundaries, portraying not only indigenous peoples in Mexico, but also communities in Panama, Madagascar and Cuba. This geographic breadth demonstrates her commitment to the visual preservation of diverse cultures and her ability to find commonalities in the human experience. Her work has been recognised and rewarded around the world in prestigious exhibitions such as the Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris, London's Barbican Art Gallery, the Hokkaido Museum of Photography in Japan and the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. These exhibitions have positioned her work in the canon of fine art photography worldwide. Iturbide's selection represents royal recognition of photography as an artistic discipline and specifically the social and cultural documentation that characterises her oeuvre. It also underlines the growing importance of Latin American photography in the global art scene. Iturbide's award is the fourth in the XLV edition of the Princess of Asturias Awards.** Previously, the Communication and Humanities Award went to the South Korean-born German philosopher Byung-Chul Han, the Literature Award to the Barcelona writer Eduardo Mendoza, and the Social Sciences Award to the American sociologist and demographer Douglas Massey. Over the next three weeks, the remaining categories will be awarded: Sports on 28 May, Concordia on 4 June, Scientific and Technical Research on 12 June, and International Cooperation on 18 June.
Yahoo
18-05-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
Bullfighting devotees in Mexico say recent bans harm a sacred tradition
María Teresa HernándezAssociated Press AGUASCALIENTES, Mexico — Mexican matador Diego Silveti performs a ritual ahead of each bullfight. In each hotel room where he dresses in the garment that may bring him glory or death, he sets up an altar where he leaves his wedding band and prays before heading to the arena. 'By leaving my ring behind, I'm telling God: Here's everything I am as a father, a husband, a son and a brother,' Silveti said. 'I commit to what I was born to be — a bullfighter.' He last encountered a bull in late April in Aguascalientes, a state in central Mexico where bullfighting is considered a cultural heritage. Weeks before, though, Mexico City lawmakers banned violent bullfighting in the nation's capital. While matadors there are still allowed to fight bulls, piercing their muscles with laces or running a sword through their body is prohibited under that ban. Animal rights advocates celebrated the ruling and Environment Secretary Julia Álvarez said the lawmakers made history. But matadors like Silveti, as well as fans and cattle breeders, contend this long-time Spanish tradition bears a profound significance that would be undermined if bulls can't be killed in the arena. 'What they propose goes against the essence and the rituals of bullfighting,' Silveti said. 'It's a veiled prohibition that opposes the ways in which it has been done since its origins.' The European conquerors of Mesoamerican territories in the 16th century brought along Catholicism and cultural practices that are now intertwined with Indigenous customs. Researcher and bullfighting fan Antonio Rivera lives in Yucatán, a southeastern state where bullfights reflect ancient Mayan traditions. 'In local celebrations, the roots of bullfighting are sacrificial rites,' Rivera said. 'Ancient cultures believed the gods requested sacrifices and blood fertilizes the earth.' Every year, the Yucatán peninsula celebrates about 2,000 events featuring bulls, he said. In 2021, Yucatán's Congress declared bullfighting part of its cultural heritage. It was a way to keep the ancestral memory alive, the official declaration said, and a way to honor its people's identity. 'When I see a bull, I feel an immense devotion,' Rivera said. 'It's a mirror of myself. It's like looking at a living museum containing all the rituals from our collective memory.' Instead of soccer balls, Silveti grew up playing with 'muletas' and 'capotes' — the brightly colored capes matadors use to channel the bull's charge. His father was one of Mexico's most beloved and renowned bullfighters. Until his death in 2003, fans called him 'King David' and many remember him fondly when his son is in the ring. 'No one asked us where we wanted to be born,' Silveti said. 'The love towards the bull and the feast of bullfighting has been my life and my ancestors' life.' His grandfather and his father before him were also matadors. Silveti emphasizes that his sons — now ages 6 and 2 — will decide their profession, but he would proudly support them if they followed in his footsteps. Neither the boys nor his wife watch him at the bullring, but Silveti conveys his passion in other ways. His family often visit ranches where bulls are breed. Occasionally, with his sons in his arms, Silveti bullfights baby cows. 'My youngest loves it,' the matador said. 'When he watches a bullfight, he plays with a napkin or a cloth and says 'Olé!' How is that possible?' 'The King' was no longer alive when Silveti became a professional bullfighter in Spain in 2011, but he senses his father's presence constantly. 'I feel his spirit in my soul,' Silveti said. 'On certain days, when I'm alone and focused, I try to speak to him and follow his example.' As a child, Silveti never watched his father at the ring. He stayed home with his mother and brothers. With no social media at hand to monitor live updates, they asked God to protect him. Many matadors, like Silveti, pray ahead of each bullfight. At the Aguascalientes plaza, the Rev. Ricardo Cuéllar blesses them. 'My job is to attend the religious needs of the bullfighting family,' Cuéllar said. 'Not only matadors, but also aficionados, those selling food at the arena and the bullfighters' assistants.' According to Tauromaquia Mexicana, Mexico's biggest bullfighting organization, more than 20,000 jobs depend on this tradition. One of the organizations opposed to violent bullfighting, Cultura sin Tortura, was pleased by the Mexico City measure and said it would continue its efforts elsewhere. Another half a dozen Mexican states have also imposed bans. 'We will keep advocating for the prohibition, given that no animal must be seen as entertainment,' the group said on social media. Cattle breeders, meanwhile, say they view bulls not as sources of income but as fascinating creatures they spend years caring for. Manuel Sescosse, who owns a ranch, said that breeding this specific type of bull is as thrilling as bullfighting. 'They must look good at the arena,' Sescosse said. 'Offensive but noble. They must charge and simultaneously spark a sensitivity driving the crowds to deep emotion.' The perfect bull for a fight is 4 or 5 years old and weighs between 900-1,200 pounds. According to Sescosse, each rainy season a bull is mated with 30 cows and their offspring are carefully monitored. Most receive a name. All are fed exclusively with grass and large areas are secured for them to exercise and grow strong. At the proper age, only a handful will be selected for bullfighting. 'You watch them since they are born and become calves and grow,' Sescosse said. 'That affection grows when they turn out good for a bullfight, leave a mark and are revered.' Not everyone attending bullfights is drawn to the sacred aspect, but some do find deeper purpose. Daniel Salinas says matadors follow strict norms to demonstrate their appreciation toward the bull's life, even as they end it. 'We celebrate death deriving from a rite in which a human being confronts a wild animal," he said. At Aguascalientes, when his second bull died, Silveti caressed him and respectfully closed his eyes before stepping out of the arena. 'I'm aware the bull is offering me everything he has and I'm also willing to present him with my life,' Silveti said. 'I've been gored 13 times and I've taken those hits willingly because I do this for a bigger purpose.' It rarely happens, but when a bull has a unique, artistic connection with its matador, his life is spared. Instead of a sword, he gets a 'banderilla' (a dart-like stick). Then he returns to his ranch and breeds a progeny that fans will revere. Following Silveti's performance in Aguascalientes, Spanish matador Alejandro Talavante faced one of those bulls. Centinela — pitch-black hide, four years old, 1,140 pounds — won the fans' hearts as Talavante's passes made him spin and dance. The matador aimed to kill more than once, but the crowd pleaded for him not to. And in the end, the judge indulged. Centinela gave a final, vigorous run and vanished through the tunnel while thousands cheered. It was a day of glory for him as well.
Travel Daily News
16-05-2025
- Business
- Travel Daily News
Palma Tourism Board to launch campaign
Palma Tourism Board launches campaign to engage residents with tourism, fostering pride and integration of tourism into local culture and community life. PALMA – Palma Tourism Board is set to launch later this year a new campaign aimed at encouraging local residents to take pride in the city's tourism sector and to embrace its offerings as part of Palma's cultural and social fabric. As part of this initiative, residents will be invited to enjoy a range of free activities in spaces traditionally associated with tourism. Proposed activities include concerts, workshops, exhibitions, and gastronomic tastings – events designed to make the tourism sector more accessible and relevant to local people. According to Palma Tourism Board, the central objective is for residents to feel proud of Palma's tourism offer and to perceive it as a valuable part of their own leisure and community life. These experiences aim to encourage locals to rediscover their city through its dynamic tourism infrastructure. The campaign seeks to promote the idea that hotels and related infrastructure form an integral part of Palma's heritage, not only in an economic sense but also as a cornerstone of its cultural and social identity. In the project brief, Palma highlights the need to 'promote further the integration of tourism activity into local life' and to 'strengthen the bond and sense of belonging between residents and their city.' Palma Tourism Board is focused on enhancing public perception of tourism among Palma's residents and fostering a shared sense of ownership in the city's ongoing transformation.
News.com.au
10-05-2025
- General
- News.com.au
‘I gave birth in Italy – here is why it is a wildly different experience than Australia'
The anaesthetist finally arrives, a young woman with an assistant. She is memorably attractive; high, sharp cheekbones, almond obsidian eyes, nicotine scent. She looks at my husband incredulously. 'Tu,' she flicks her perfectly polished fire red nails at him. You. He utters a bewildered, ' si?'. ' Devi uscire ', she says nonchalantly. You must leave. 'Uscire?', he asks bewildered. Leave? 'Dobbiamo fare l'epidurale. Signore, perché non va al bar e prende una brioche e cappuccino?' We must do the epidural. Why don't you go to the bar and get a brioche and cappuccino? Amid arguably one of the most pivotal moments in our life, my husband is invited, in true Italian fashion, to take ' una pausa'. He is not the only one, other stunned and overtired fathers to-be are also being bossed out of their delivery rooms, already reaching for the cigarettes in their back pockets as they scurry quickly from the ward. This country does not let birth get in the way of a coffee, food or a smoke break. It takes a village to raise a child. What if that village is culturally different, diverse? They don't speak the same language; the milieu and nuances are foreign and the methodology and practice behind raising and birthing a child is somewhat at odds with what you perceive to know? Childbirth abroad is daunting, so is motherhood. Yet, I had chosen to give birth in Italy, a country that valued the 'Madonna', pleasure and children above all else. Surely, it would be, ok? Italy is a country defined by its women, and most importantly, its mothers. The 'Madonna and Child' are the crux and nucleus of their Catholic faith, the Holy Trinity a profound and sacred union, their image adorns shops, cafes, street corners and bars. Despite being an Australian, I knew I would be in safe hands giving birth to my first child in a country which placed high prominence on these values. The process around pregnancy, and then childbirth is meticulous, precise and ordered. In Italy, nothing is left to chance. Out of hospital births are rare and usually by accident. You cannot elect to have an epidural unless you have first completed an electrocardiogram. In my third trimester, I had a prenatal appointment every week with an obstetrician, and, at every appointment, I had a scan. I knew a lot about my baby, her movements and peculiarities. As a first-time mum, this not only offered me a lot of comfort, but joy. During my entire pregnancy, I had weekly blood tests, check-ups, courses, exams. Alongside this explicit grain of rules, there was a strong undercurrent of superstition and faith. I went into labour during a full moon, the hospital had rostered on extra staff to accommodate. A full moon meant more babies. My Italian hospital delivered on average, three babies per day. With the full moon, they delivered 20 babies. Wheeled into the sala parto (delivery room), I am halted by an imperious and impatient dinner lady. She waves a piece of white paper in front of me. ' Signora deve scegliere il menu, ' she says officiously. You must choose the menu. 'Scusi? ' I exclaim. Sorry? 'Il menu per la settimana,' she explains. The menu for the week. Mid contraction, I groan. ' Perché non può scegliere dopo? ' My husband asks exasperated. Why can't she choose it later? She shakes her head. It must be now. 'Broccoli o spinaci? ' My husband starts. I growl. ' Risotto o pasta? ' He continues. 'I don't care about the f**king food,' I suddenly yell in English. Big mistake. My husband panics and chooses white rice and pasta with red sauce for the week. He neglects the Lombardian delicacies of cotoletta alla Milanese, polenta with gorgonzola, risotto funghi or pizza. Instead, my first meal after giving birth will be an unappetising plate of white rice and anaemic, mangled broccoli. What was the point in giving birth in Italy if the food was going to be so unappetising and sad? Childbirth and motherhood are a good indicator of a country's cultural position, approach and perception of their women. In Italian pre and post-natal care, there is a heavy emphasis on the mother. The mother must eat (the imperious dinner lady and her insistence on the food), the mother must rest (in the hospital, newborns are often taken away during the evenings to the nursery, so the mothers can sleep), visitors and partners are not allowed to stay overnight at the hospital, everyone must leave by 8pm, and partners are asked to leave during any medical interventions in labour, for example, an epidural. Compared to Australia, this attitude may shock or surprise. I was told that my husband wouldn't be allowed to accompany me if I had to have a caesarean, for example (he would have to wait outside), but it is also an example of a country that places their idea of motherhood at their centre, no matter how old fashioned this interpretation may seem. Suddenly, there is a commotion in the corridor. My husband runs and opens the door. A flurry of doctors and nurses saunter past gossiping. I spot the hospital priest in black casual robes. He looks excited. What could it be now? A famous Italian footballer is about to have his fourth child, his wife is preparing, and he is prowling the corridors. ' Mamma Mia! ' It seems nothing gets in the way of Italians and their football. Neither religion, mothers, food nor babies. And certainly, above all else, childbirth.
