Tucked into the village of Contla de Juan Cuamatzi, just twenty minutes beyond the central Mexican city of Tlaxcala (tlas-kah-lah), is an extraordinary textile workshop. Their roots go deep into Mexico’s cultural, social and political history. Here, they speak Nahuatl, language of the Aztecs, and the Netzahualcoyotl family trace their roots to the famed pre-Hispanic sage and poet-king from Lake Texcoco whose sphere of influence extended beyond the capital city. The workshop is committed to reviving, preserving, and protecting the cultural identity of indigenous clothing that can be traced to this era and earlier.
Originally, Mexican textiles were made on the back strap loom from native cotton. With the Conquest, the Spanish brought churra sheep and the pedal loom. This gave weavers the tools to make warmer garments that could incorporate more complex iconography. Netzahualcoyotl pays respects to these ancestral traditions while adapting and innovating to create serapes and ponchos, called gabanes in this part of Mexico, that can take between four and six months to complete. They use motifs traced to the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, many including Baroque architectural design elements. Taller Netzahualcoyotl consider themselves guardians of the serape. They give life to ancient designs because they conduct extensive research. Their contemporary pieces have a foundation in the traditional. All studio members, aged fourteen to thirty-eight, have a commitment to the old ways, don’t want traditions to die, are passionate about their work, and have a deep, abiding respect for their heritage. It is interesting to note that the garment they make goes by different names in different parts of Mexico. Here, in the central highlands two hours from Mexico City, it is called a gaban. In Oaxaca, it goes by poncho. In Chiapas, Guatemala, Ecuador and Bolivia, it is referred to as the ruana, says Ignacio Netzahuacoyotl, workshop spokesperson. He explains that his great grandfather raised sheep and started weaving wool in 1898, and the workshop traces its roots to this time.
Ignacio’s father, Claudio Netzahuacoyotl, formally established the enterprise in 1981 with his wife, Ignacio’s mother Ignacia Nava, a weaver and teacher. Claudio learned to weave from his parents and grandparents, who also taught him the value and importance of integrating natural dyes into his work. His heritage became a way of life: working with wool, weaving, and gathering seasonal native plant materials for dyeing. At an early age, Claudio was recognized as a textile master as he travelled throughout Mexico encouraging weavers to return to ancient traditions and inspiring buyers to appreciate and purchase a garment with deep cultural significance. While still involved, the traditions are passing to the next generation of family artisans. Principals in the workshop include thirty-eight-year-old Ignacio, recipient of national and international awards – including recognition as a Living Legend by Banamex-FONART; Ignacio’s wife Christian Janet Cordova Vazquez, award-winning craft designer, graduate of the University of Guadalajara in Artistic Studies at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Barcelona, Spain, and back- strap loom weaver/teacher; Ignacio’s brother Pedro, winner of national textile prizes, including first place in the FONART 2018 Popular Art Grand Prize; and Melissa Carillo Cuahutle, a visual artist/weaver who works on the vertical loom and interprets the feminine perspective in her work.
Employing various looms and techniques, Netzahualcoyotl is transforming the serape/poncho market by creating versatile unisex garments aimed at attracting a younger Mexican audience who are interested in artistic quality while discovering the cultural history of their country. Weaving technologies include the two-harness and four-harness pedal looms, the pre- Hispanic back-strap loom, and the vertical or high-warp loom, of French Gobelin origin, introduced at the Mexico National School during the Renaissance to depict scenes and landscapes. Of course, collecting and using natural dyes is an integral part of the workshop. Rooted in the tradition of the Nahua grandmothers,
members of the workshop are tuned to the cycles of nature and have a deep respect for the environment. As winter turns to spring, as the first fruits and flowers bud, nature signals that the dyeing season is near. Plants have medicinal and colourproducing properties, which the grandmothers attended to, that Netzahualcoyotl values. This was a time when no one was in a hurry, when the cycle of nature mattered, when the cochineal beatle on the nopal cactus paddle fascinated even the youngest child. The insect were veiled in white cotton ‘like brides’, says Ignacio, remembering his youth. The bug was dried, crushed, then transformed through lime juice or ash to become the most intense and colour-fast red. Then as now, by early November and Dia de Los Muertos, the scent and colour of sempoalxochitl (wild marigold) flower permeated the air. ‘These are the flowers that adorn our dead, embellish their tombs, give colour to the cemeteries and fields, and are used to achieve the yellow shades used in our garments’, Ignacio says. Wild marigold (Tagetes), native to Mexico, is used for medicinal, culinary (tarragon substitute), and ceremonial purposes, and is a powerful dye. The grandmothers used it as a tea to soothe upset stomachs.
The ancient clay dye pots were on the verge of extinction as synthetic dyes became the norm, and as artisans abandoned their craft for steadier work in the industrialized cities. The dye pots were also the source of mineral-based paints used in nearby Cacaxtla archeological site murals. Netzahuacoyotl sees these ruins as inspiration for the textiles: ‘In this Nahua region, we see nature as wise, strong and delicate’. Their mission is to respect the natural world, conserve its bounty, and respect all that it provides.
Theirs is an integrated approach. Symbols used in Netzahualcoyotl textiles communicate the respect that Otomi and Nahua indigenous people have for mother nature and narrate the cycles of cultivation in the valleys beneath their sacred Malintzin volcano. Shells, butterflies, and diamonds figure prominently in the textiles, referencing the environment and early 19th century Tlaxcalan architecture of frets. Today’s iconic Tlaxcala sarapes made by Netzahualcoyotl blend the Saltillo style of thin, colourful lines and stripes that represent the gradation of sunlight, with more contemporary themes.
While Netzahualcoyotl hasn’t been directly impacted by cultural appropriation, Ignacio explains that the copying of indigenous designs for commercial production without attribution or compensation to villages and makers is having a big impact in Mexico, as many international designers are duplicating what is made here. He believes that the studio is the guardian of serape culture and history, and it is his responsibility to protect the cultural patrimony (objects owned by a native group or culture itself, part of identity). Educating people about what they are buying is key, and the government has a responsibility to recognize original design and protect the diversity of Mexican folk art and craft. Netzahualcoyotl adheres to traditional iconography and quality, blending past with present. The group of seven are but a handful of people remaining in Tlaxcala who are rooted in cultural preservation through the textiles they create.
This article was previously published on issue 109 Rise Up, available for purchase on our website. Text by Norma Schafer, with translation by Eric Chavez Santiago.