Secular santos - fotoescultura, three-dimensional photographic portraiture

It was in Laredo, Texas, on the evening of January 6, 1998, that I first met Ms. Gloria Gonzales Hein. Her son arranged my visit after he learned of my interviews with local families who owned fotoesculturas, a distinct form of three-dimensional photographic portraiture manufactured by artisans in Mexico. After speaking to Ms. Hein over the phone and sensing an eagerness to meet with me, I decided to pay her a visit on that same night.

Upon my arrival, Ms. Hein proudly spoke of her husband's role as a dedicated companion and father. It was no surprise then to find the fotoescultura of her husband, Gus Fred Hein, displayed at the center of a small home altar. The fotoescultura depicted Mr. Rein in his army uniform positioned in a traditional military pose. Although the portrait was incomplete, with half of its protective ornate frame missing, the startlingly realistic wood-carved bust remained intact. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the man I had just seen in the photographs displayed in the living room. In this instance though, the gold paint applications representing buttons and medals on his uniform shined, while the black visor of his hat extended toward me.

The fotoescultura seemed to fit comfortably within its surroundings, which included numerous sacred and secular objects. Candles flickered next to statues of Christ, Mary and an angel, while artificial flowers and Catholic literature collected by its devoted caretaker were placed alongside the figures. A small image of the Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos rested against the back wall. A crucifix that originally rested on top of Mr. Rein's casket was placed on the base of his portrait.

I soon learned that the fotoescultura was modeled after the first photograph Mr. Hein sent her while he was stationed in Alaska in 1941. She commissioned the fotoescultura from a traveling salesman because, as she stated, "it was a work of art." It was an important acquisition for her family, socially and financially. After I asked to see the original print from which the portrait was modeled, Ms. Hein expressed a lack of interest regarding its location. As with many families met during the course of my research, it was always the fotoescultura that was of more importance.

The history of the fotoescultura tradition has been difficult to trace given that it is usually regarded as an inconsequential popular art form among the working class of Mexico. For this reason, it is extremely rare to find references to this tradition in books and journals and instead easier to find more and more examples of fotoesculturas in flea markets and antique stores. The information that follows was gathered from many different interviews with the owners and makers of fotoesculturas and from one of the few articles published specifically on this subject, written by American artist and researcher Pamela Scheinman. (1) Thanks to these efforts we can now begin to understand the importance of this rich tradition for families like that of Ms. Hein.

Beginning in the 1930s, collectives of artisans in Mexico City started producing fotoesculturas, family portraits that combine photography, sculpture and painting to produce compelling three-dimensional likenesses. The actual process of making a fotoescultura began with a pre-existing photograph, usually obtained by a traveling salesman. Although a formal studio portrait was usually used, artisans accepted any photograph the client owned. During my research, one individual from Texas informed me that the fotoescultura of his mother-in-law was modeled after her passport photo since it was the only occasion that she posed in front of a camera. (2) Another individual stated that the fotoescultura of her father and stepmother was modeled after two separate photographs because the family did not have a photograph of them together. (3) Whatever the case may be, the flexibility of representation offered by the fotoescultura artisan gave Mexican and Mexican American families the opportunity to own photographic reinca rnations of loved ones.

At the fotoescultura workshop, an artisan first shot an underexposed copy of the original portrait and then enlarged it. According to conservation professor Maria Fernanda Valverde from La Escuela Nacional de Conservacion y Restauracion, the fotoesculturas she restored were usually sepia toned in order to obtain a warm look and feel. (4) The artisan would cut out the face in the copy, preferably printed on Kodak AD-Type paper. (5) This malleable and quick-drying paper, commonly used by photo-journalists, was then molded on to a wooden bust that was already carved according to the proportions of the photographic portrait. This malleability is clearly seen in the remnants of a bridal fotoescultura found in a New Mexico antique shop specializing in Mexican arts and crafts; in this example, it is difficult to determine where the photographic paper ends and the sculptural material begins. Unlike the popular wood cutouts of the United States, fotoesculturas commonly included the addition of dimensioned ties, hats, shirts, buttons and various bodily features. Fotoesculturas could consist of both single and multi-figured busts, often carved from a single piece of wood. After the photograph was adhered to the bust, a retouching was done during which color and/or jewelry were applied to the bust in order to personalize the portraits. Valverde describes the usage of a soluble brown gum for the face and hair; a closer look at a fotoescultura reveals how artisans scratched onto the surface of the head to recreate strands of hair. Her observations indicate that the remaining photographic surface was painted with watercolors and a variation of other available techniques. The relief and the added color accentuated the sense of physical dimension that is a distinctive feature of these photo-objects.