An elaborate resting place. A celebration of perspective. Two years ago the National Museum of Death opened in Aguascalientes to chronicle cultural approaches to the end of life. “Mexicans have death imprinted all over their art and culture.” So says Jose Antonio Padilla, the museum’s director. It is the moribund product of Octavio Bajenero Gil, who had too many skeletons in his closet after 50 years of collecting macabre figurines, posters, and the like, and the Autonomous University of Aguascalientes, which was looking to open a museum with a twist. Gil’s collection now forms the backbone of the museum.
The museum’s first historical epoch explores pre-Columbian civilizations. The Aztec are a natural focal point. Known for their warrior culture and brutal imperialism, the civilization was preoccupied not only with ritual human sacrifice to satisfy gods, but also the need to absorb life forces. Hence, the Aztec’s fervid belief in cannibalism.
Other exhibits include diamond-encrusted skulls gnarling at visitors and a dining table of skeletons toasting their own demise. In one room the grim reaper faces a case full of blood-drenched crucifixes. In another, a small quartz crystal skull sits on prominent display. Three have been found in Mexico, 13 are rumored to exist, each with paranormal strengths. Claimed to be of Mesoamerican provenance, new age movements and quack archeology have churned a rumor mill that the skulls reunification is necessary to forestall a cataclysm, perhaps the Mayan doomsday prophecy.
Several dozen paintings depict death on canvas. Calaveras, skeleton cartoons, are perhaps the most ubiquitous depiction of the dead in Mexico. Mexican newspapers regularly carry calaveras, usually accompanying them with satirical poetry. Calaveritas, tiny clay skeletons, are ubiquitous in the museum, and in Mexico in general. Coupled with marigolds and skull-shaped candies, calaveritas adorn the altars made by Mexicans during the Day of the Dead festival. On the night of November 1 and 2, Mexicans remember dead family members with graveside vigils, where they present their altars. Many towns have come to incorporate music and dancing into the Day of the Dead.
Catholicism pervades modern depictions of death. “Saint Death,” known to gringos as the grim reaper, is worshipped in shrines throughout many poor barrios in Mexico. It isn’t uncommon for patrons to leave offerings in front of a museum display. Juan Manuel Vizcaino, assistant director of exhibits, says, “Sometimes we have to remind them that it’s a museum, not a place of worship.”
Reaction to the museum has been mixed. Padilla notes, “some people from (border cities) in the north will say, ‘Why do you want to celebrate something I am trying to avoid every day?” No doubt, the persistence of drug violence makes many wary, but Padilla insists the museum celebrates a distinct artistic tradition. Too bad this tradition has such a rich canvas in present-day Mexico.
