TIME NEVER LIES HEAVY on the mind of the man or woman who has a hobby. This is an old and familiar adage, the truth of which I can vouch for from my own experience. As a boy, I collected stamps, coins, cigar bands, arrowheads and what not. This, I know now, was merely the “collector's urge” which even then was present.
For twenty years I have collected. My specialty has been early Spanish and New Mexican antiques. Hundreds of relics of early New Mexican history adorn the walls, and pack shelves and chests in my own private museum. Most prized of all are my New Mexico santos.
Today there is tremendous interest in New Mexico in the revival of our native arts and crafts. Appreciation of the value—esthetic, religious, cultural, and historical—of that early expression of New Mexico by these thousands and thousands of carved images, wood paintings and tin frames and pictures on tin, has come only of late years.
The term “New Mexico santo” is one which I use advisedly. By “santo” I do not refer to a personality; to any particular saint of the church. “Santo” means a saint. There is a secondary and well recognized meaning to this word in New Mexico; it is in this sense that I use the word. By a “santo” I refer to the object, not the personality portrayed. I refer to those thousands of images and representations of the Diety, the Virgin and the Celestial Court, the Saints of the Catholic Church, be they carved images, paintings on wood or on tin or canvas which are found in New Mexico. I use the term “New Mexico santo” not because they are peculiar to or limited to New Mexico. They are not. In California and other parts of the Spanish Southwest—indeed, throughout the Spanish American world—similar objects will be found. However, I am now dealing with New Mexico. Moreover, the presence of these “santos” in New Mexico for from seventy-five to two hundred and fifty years, and their intimate connection with the lives Of the New Mexican, entitle them to the term “New Mexico santo,” whether made in New Mexico or elsewhere.
If hereinafter I refer to the “santo” the object, and again to the “santo” the personality portrayed, I ask the indulgence of the reader. It will be difficult to abstain from the double use of the word. The image of the Christ is not the image of a saint. Yet the object is referred to as a “santo.” The Archangels—San Miguel, San Rafael and San Gabriel—are not saints, but the image which portrays them is a “santo.”
The art of image making is as old as Christianity itself. It is even older. Since the days when man first traced his rude pictures on prehistoric caves there was ever an urge to represent, in crude drawings and carvings, his conception of the deity or deities he believed in. St. Luke was a carver of images. The very first makers of images, makers of santos, or to use our New Mexican term, santos, were the clergy.
When Hernán Cortés, conqueror of the empire of the Montezumas, entered the valley of Mexico early in the sixteenth century, he carried with him his Santo, a small painting of the Virgin which was the special object of his veneration. When the Adelantado, Don Juan de Oñate, first entered the Valley of the Rio del Norte, (Rio Grande) wherever he went he carried with him his Santo, also a picture of the Virgin. When Don Diego de Vargas, the reconqueror, restored the power of Spain over the Provincia de Neuvo Mexico, in 1690, he brought with him a Santo, a carved image of the Virgin which may be seen today in the “Rosario” Chapel at Santa Fe.
Wherever the Spaniard went, he carried with him the old world culture and implanted it in the colonized soil. The Spaniards who entered Mexico with Cortéz brought with them as part of necessary church service and as their individual possessions, santos; for their churches large and well-wrought ones made in the mother country, smaller ones which the individual soldiers and colonists brought with them for their personal veneration. These also were probably of Spanish workmanship. Perhaps they may have been made in the Spanish settlements in America.
In considering any phase of the New Mexican's culture, we must bear in mind that there is practically nothing cultural in Spanish New Mexico which is not essentially of Spanish origin. Language, customs, arts, and crafts are essentially Spanish. Travelers in Spain have told me that in the villages and hamlets there, are seen santos, exactly like those we see in New Mexico and in California.
Whence the origin of this industry, this art of manufacturing santos? We know that within a generation after the conquest, the arts and sciences flourished in the Viceroyalty of Mexico. The most eminent artists of Spain and Europe journeyed to Mexico where they adorned the churches and cathedrals of New Spain. By the period of the conquest of New Mexico, 1599-1600, all the arts and crafts flourished in Mexico on a par with those of the mother country. Beautiful Talavera ware was made, equal if not superior to that manufactured in the mother country. At Querétaro, Mexico, very soon after the conquest, the Franciscan fathers established a santeria, a place where santos were manufactured. Here they taught their Indian converts the art of image making. From this santeria, these santos were distributed over the entire Spanish American world. Many of the santos found in New Mexico may have come from this factory.
The Spanish colonists who settled in New Mexico brought with them their santos. Some of these were probably made in Spain, for many of the colonists came direct from the mother country. The majority were probably of Mexican workmanship for there would be little object in bringing anything excepting the most prized pieces from across the water, when it could be made just as well at home. Be this as it may, the point I wish to make is this, that the religious art brought to New Mexico was essentially a medieval European art which changed very little with the passing years up to the time of the coming of the Americano in the middle of the nineteenth century.
The permanent colonization of New Mexico, as we know, dates from the Reconquest by De Vargas in the year 1690. How soon thereafter the development of arts and crafts began we do not know, but it is reasonable to believe that it took place immediately after the colonists were established in their new home. The isolated condition of the New Mexican made it imperative that a local development in arts immediately for they were upon their own resource to produce and manufacture what their needs required. Doubtless there were skilled artisans among the colonists who, once the colony was established, laid the beginning of the industries which later reached such high development. From about 1700 to about 1848, about the period of the coming of the Americano, all the arts and crafts, including weaving, dyeing, woodcarving—including the making of santos—and leather work, reached a high degree of perfection. Today we are beginning to appreciate the beautiful work these native artisans produced.
The art of making santos developed contemporaneously with the other arts and crafts. In New Mexico, the santo was an institution. No matter how wealthy or how poor the individual; no matter if he lived in a feudal hacienda or a humble adobe or lowly jacal, no home was complete without its santo. Perhaps it was the representation of the saint whose name the lord of the manor bore, or it was the image of any particular saint who for any of many reasons he had adopted as his patron, his special intercessor. Perhaps some favor asked and granted had prompted its adoption as his protector. At any rate, it was his santo and to the holy one whose image is portrayed, the owner and his family offered up their prayers and petitions for relief from sickness, aid for their crops, protection from savage Indians, and from the countless dangers and afflictions to which a primitive people on the far outposts of civilization are exposed. The santo was a part of every life of the New Mexican. He was rewarded for favors granted, and in their simple faith the people even punished the santo, when he failed them, by turning them to the wall, locking them in dark closets or chests and the like. This pure and simple faith in the virtues of the saint, represented by the santo still exists in New Mexico but not as of old. Beautiful images, centuries old, before whom their father have poured forth their souls on countless occasions are bartered, by this new generation which “knows not Caesar," for cheap plaster images making of santos—with gaudy gold and silver paint. But try and induce a New Mexican of the old school to part with his or her santo. You will get the same reply: “My mother, or father, prayed to this santo. It has protected me. When I am gone you may have it, but not while I live.”
As before stated, the first santeros in New Mexico were the clergy. In New Mexico the Indians were not taught to make santos as in Mexico. None of our New Mexico santos of home make were made by Indians. Later the work was taken up by individuals. There were itinerant santeros who would travel from village to village taking orders and making deliveries. The principal industry seemed to have centered in Taos and Rio Arriba counties and it is not strange to note that it was about Chimayo where the industry centered. It is here that the weaving industry reached such a high state of development.
The New Mexican santero, working with crude tools and with such materials as were available, was yet a strict student of the old school. He was strictly dogmatic. The Santos made in New Mexico differ so little from those manufactured in Mexico and in Spain during the same period that the difference can scarcely, if at all, be noted in most instances.
New Mexico santos are of four types.
First comes the carved figures. These are known as bultos. This infers a solid object; something with a body as distinguished from a flat painting. Bultos were of various types and combinations of these types. First was the plain carved object, carved out of soft wood, then covered with a coating of yeso (gypsum) as will be explained more in detail, and then painted.
A second type of bulto was made by stretching cloth or skin, which had been previously impregnated with yeso, about a framework of reeds or strips of wood. The cloth was molded to form about this framework and the object then decorated.
Stone bultos are very rare. I have one in my collection, a “San Antonio” carved out of a white sandstone resembling marble.
Crucifixes, which are very common, may be classed as bultos. Often the crucifix has several carved objects in bulto on the base or pedestal. These are generally of the Virgin, St. John or Mary Magdalene.
The second classification of New Mexico santos is those known as retablos or sometimes as tablas. They are simply paintings on wood. The wood, generally pine, was shaped, then the surface prepared by treating the wood and then covering it with yeso. The painting was then made on this surface.
There are any number and different types of retablos. They vary in size from miniatures to the impressive reredos which are the background for an altar and are simply a series of retablos.
Occasionally the picture on the retablo was moulded in semi relief and then painted. These are frequently met with and are generally very beautiful.
The next classification of santos is paintings on tin and canvas.
Tin work was rather adapted for religious articles such as picture frames, candle holders and the like. In the tin frames the New Mexican placed a print or picture of a saint. These objects are referred to as santos. Some of the tin work, such as nichos or sconces were used to hold a bulto or a retablo as well as prints and pictures.
In making his santos, the santero utilized all materials available and indeed developed an assortment admirably suited to his needs. It is interesting to note the materials he worked with.
In the manufacture of his bultos the santero generally used cottonwood. This is soft and could be easily shaped. For the smaller bultos he used the yet softer root of the cottonwood. First, he would carve his form. Very seldom was the carved image made in one piece. The head, arms and legs were separately carved and then joined with pegs and glue. After the parts were shaped, they were treated with a gelatinous glue made by boiling cows’ horns and cow hoofs in water for several days. When this dried it gave a hard surface. There was next applied a mixture made of this same glue and yeso, a form of gypsum generally distributed throughout New Mexico. After this had dried it was carefully sanded with pumice stone. and shaped to satisfaction. Successive coatings of yeso were applied and each coat sanded until the santero was satisfied. Then the object was painted.
The New Mexican santero worked exclusively with earth and vegetable colors. He never worked with oil paints as is commonly believed. He learned his vegetable and earth colors from the Indian who used these to mix his war paint. The earth colors, oxides and ochres were mixed with egg yolk, one part to ten of color, and water mixed to thin. This was applied as tempora paint. When dry, it was given a coating of egg white to waterproof it. If a particularly lustrous surface was desired it was often burnished with a knob of glass or similar object. Often the santo, when finished, was rubbed with mutton tallow. With time the greasy appearance disappeared, leaving the excessive yellows and browns we frequently see in old santos.
In subsequent articles I shall go further into the history of these santos and tell of the place they occupied in the life of the New Mexican, his beliefs, customs and devotions. To me, the most interesting feature of the study of New Mexican santos—santology—if I may coin an expression of my own, is the mystery which envelops the subject. The New Mexican never signed his paintings or identified his work. I know of only one santo which is dated, a retablo of “San Jose” in the Fred Harvey collection which bears the date “1828.” Consequently, we know very little of the history of these objects. It is in the Indian pueblos that we meet with the most beautiful examples of this art. In the pueblo of Santo Domingo is a beautiful wood carving in bulto of Santo Domingo, the patron of the pueblo. Tradition has it that this image came direct from Spain, a gift of the king for the pueblo of Santo Domingo. In the pueblo of San Augustin de Isleta is the original carved image of “San Augustin” still watching and protecting the destinies of his wards as he has for several centuries.
Of the native New Mexican industries, that of the santero was the first to go. The reasons which led to abandonment of this art are akin to those which led to the abandonment of homespun in preference to machine woven fabrics. The former required skill and were difficult to make, the latter, manufactured plaster of Paris images, were easily purchased. The former were out of style, the latter were new and attractive. The New Mexican santo, representing a medieval conception of the saint it portrayed, was decidedly out of taste once the new ideas of the Americano from the East were spread; just as out of taste as a twentieth century futuristic painting would have been in the days of Michael Angelo. The New Mexican santo lost in competition with the flaxen-haired, blue-eyed, Anglo-Saxon conception of what the Saints of God should look like.
The opposition of the clergy was to a great extent responsible for the abandonment of this industry. True, the quality had deteriorated, the industry had decayed, and the latter examples were poor specimens of what the art once produced. The first outside clergy who came to New Mexico showed little appreciation for the religious art they found here. To them it was a medieval conception, out-of-date centuries before. Adobe altars were torn down, beautiful carved santos centuries old were relegated to back rooms, and Moorish turrets replaced by atrocious attempts at Gothic spires; beautiful viga ceilings were covered with cheap tin. It was simply a taste for the new and lack of taste for the old. Today we are witnessing a rebirth of appreciation for the art, the industries, and the architecture of the past.
Yet who will say that we are right and they were wrong? Who will say that the religious conceptions of the New Mexican of two centuries ago, picturing his idea of the Deity and the saints as he did, stern-visaged, primitive, virile types, as contradistinguished from the doll-faced women and feminine-type men whom we today portray as our conception of what the Saints of God looked like when they trod the earth?
I love these old santos. To me they are beautiful. Perhaps some of us viewing them through critical twentieth century lenses, do not see anything of beauty in them. Yet we must consider that this is but a picture of a fifteenth century European religious art transplanted to New Mexico centuries ago and little changed with the passing years. To me they represent the spirit, the soul, the religious strength and fervor of the fifteenth century Spanish who brought this art to New Mexico when the first mail-clad conquerors trod this soil. They represent the very life and aspirations of our fathers who for centuries invoked the assistance of the holy person represented, through the medium of these santos; with the same, yes, with greater devotion than do we reverence the memory of these holy personages through our modern, yet far less beautiful, images. This is why I love my New Mexico santos.