Interview with Artist Liz Hernández on her Exhibition, “Talismán,” at Part 2 Gallery

Artist Liz Hernández in her Oakland studio

Oakland-based artist Liz Hernández presents her latest work of sculpture and painting in a solo exhibition, “Talismán,” at Part 2 Gallery.  In “Talismán,” Hernández’s work represents an authentic exploration of her upbringing in Mexico and a seeking of answers that we all hope to discover for ourselves about who we are, where we come from, and what parts of ourselves from our upbringing we still carry with us today. 

Her skillful use of the timeless mediums of clay, aluminum, and painting feels magically caught between worlds, addressing her family’s dual belief systems of the Catholic Church and Marian Trinitarian Spiritism. A natural-born storyteller, Hernández shares below about her work in the exhibition. 

Liz Hernández, “Reclamación (Reclamation)” Vinyl paint and clay on canvas. 40 x 32 inches. 2020

I really enjoyed the short story that accompanies your work as part of the exhibition. What role does storytelling play in the creation of your work? How do you see text and image working together, especially in a piece like “Reclamación (Reclamation)?”

I've never considered myself a writer, but I do enjoy storytelling. I can spend hours sharing stories and listening to others share theirs; I believe that storytelling helps preserve one's knowledge and history. Real events in my life inspire my work, and sometimes without the added text, those personal stories can easily be overlooked. For me, storytelling is a way to archive my life in hopes that I never forget where I come from and the people who care for me. I also wish that others relate to what I'm sharing, and it always surprises me when people from very different backgrounds feel connected to my work.

The Talismán short story was successful because it helped me convey that the work was not about a fantasy world but my life and a very personal side. I wanted to be vulnerable and allow people to get an insight into my soul...it was difficult and nerve-wracking.

I have been adding text to my pieces for years now. Some of them can exist without the text, but others are more successful when I add words. Sometimes I cannot find the right way to present a story visually, so I write the text directly on the piece.

The piece Reclamación (Reclamation) contains a story my grandma told me about a year ago. On this occasion, my grandma arrives at Sunday mass at her neighborhood church. During the sermon, the priest talks about how wrong it is that people practice rituals not allowed by the Roman Catholic religion. It's important to note that any people in Mexico practice rituals that have connections to the indigenous cultures still present in the country. He tells the congregation that these rituals are wrong and that they need to stop because they are sinful. My grandma didn't see what was so wrong with the rites, as they are something she has always believed in and practiced. This sermon did not change her personal beliefs, and I thought it was a very rebellious act. I'm sure she doesn't see it in that way, but it was one of the main sources of inspiration for this show.

Liz Hernández, “Ritual del día (Everyday Ritual)” Ceramic. 12 x 12 x 10 inches. 2020

I read that you are inspired by the magical realism movement in Latin America, are there particular authors or artists that inspire you most?

My art practice is inspired by authors I read when I was a teenager. Jorge Luis Borges, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Laura Esquivel, and Isabel Allende, to name some, but my main inspiration comes from the books by Mexican writer Juan Rulfo.

The work of these authors inspired me because of the way they portray their countries of origin. I appreciate that the stories are not pure fantasy and remain connected to the real world and its problems. In their work, the magical elements help communicate a message about society or even the political climate they were living in.It shows the complicated nature of the authors' homeland, where the mystical and paranormal are part of every day and can coexist with the brutal reality of life.

Sometimes when I tell people I come from Mexico, they talk about it as a country full of magic and beauty, which it can be, but it's not only that. I want to be careful and never glorify Mexico. It is a place where mysticism and the paranormal coexist with corruption, inequality, racism, poverty, and violence.
Whenever I recommend some of these authors, people tell me they found the stories sad, but for some reason, they remind me of how I perceived my life in Mexico. Never a fairytale, but appreciating its magic and acknowledging the issues that need to change.

Can you share about why you chose to work in ceramics and aluminum? Is this your first time using these mediums?

I have always been interested in creating sculptures and have experimented with clay before. For this exhibition, I felt that acrylic paint would not be the right medium to portray some of these images. I wanted materials that felt timeless, which made you question when they were made and where they came from. I wanted the work to feel otherworldly. It wasn't easy, as I had a little bit of experience with clay but never made sculptures before. Many of my ceramics broke during different stages of the process but failing taught me a lot. I ended up not showing many other sculptures I made because they were completely broken.

For the aluminum pieces, I taught myself by reading forums and watching Youtube videos. It took me many months to understand the process, but in the end, I felt comfortable with the material. I also failed multiple times, but to me, that's one of the most valuable parts of the learning process.

Installation view of Talismán at Part 2 Gallery

Your work in the exhibition addresses this tension between dual belief systems of the Catholic Church and Marian Trinitarian Spiritualism from your upbringing in Mexico. In expressing this duality, your work sort of feels magically caught between two worlds. Can you explain what Marian Trinitarian Spiritualism is?

Marian Trinitarian Spiritualism is a religion that emerged in Mexico City in the mid-nineteenth century. It incorporates elements of Christianity with concepts and techniques from European spiritism that flourished in the years before the Mexican revolution. Some of these beliefs are reincarnation and communication through mediums; which were adopted by the devotees that still felt identified with practices of communication with ancestors and deities that prevailed in Mexico since the prehispanic period. Another crucial feature is the constant use of traditional medicine in healing sessions. It is a religion with sound doctrine and ethical principles, but with a flexible ritual and worship exercise, as it allows the incorporation of local practices, adapting to the characteristics of each community. As the cult is neither rigid nor claims exclusive exercise, parishioners may attend according to their own needs, and even many participate simultaneously in other religions, mainly Catholicism.

When I was a child, I lived amid the Catholic Church's rigid rules and the magical world of Marian Trinitarian Spiritism. It was usual for me to wear my Catholic school uniform and go to communion every day, but at the same time, to hear my grandmother explain to me that her dreams were premonitions, that she communicated with spirits, and that cleansings with herbs were powerful. Personally, Catholicism taught me to be consumed by guilt, fear of sin, and follow the strict conditions imposed by a patriarchal hierarchy. In my grandmother's temple, the environment was peaceful and meditative, surrounded by candles, medicinal herbs, and incense. In this place of worship, the most significant authority was almost always a woman, and even when I could tell these women were wise and powerful, they never made me feel scared. The two religions were vastly different, what they had in common was the practice of rituals, objects that held power, and communication with the divine. For Catholicism, praying and talking to a priest are the most obvious communication method. The practices of Marian Trinitarian Spiritism offered a more direct approach. The communication would be direct by using the body in different ways: mediumistic trance, interpretation of dreams, the energy transferred with hands, herbs, balms, and traditional cleansings.

These everyday rituals influenced how I grew up, as there was no division between supernatural elements and reality. My grandmother introduced me to how she navigated both of these worlds, and our relationship defined my life.

Liz Hernández & Ryan Whelan, “Luz y progreso en tu camino.” Acrylic mirror. 40.5 x 30.5 inches. 2020

Many of these works appear to be self-portraits and the mirrors, especially, seem to explore ideas of identity. Can you talk about this a little bit?

The show began as a way to explore a private, almost secret side of my life. I couldn't come up with another way to do it but to portray myself. I was worried that the show would be too abstract and unrelatable without having the human form.

The mirrors explore self-reflection, especially about existing between the two worlds (the Catholic Church and MTS). Additionally, they were a way to convey that the believer is the crucial part of a ritual or a talisman. The ceramic arches with mirrors address this intention more clearly. My idea was that maybe these sculptures could be interpreted as artifacts, objects from another time, and a distant world. But what happens when you stare at the sculptures, and suddenly you get a glimpse of yourself in them? Maybe the only thing they need to become powerful is you.

When did you move to California and how has it influenced your work?

I moved to Oakland in 2011 and have lived here since then. Moving to the US was very difficult for me, as I didn't feel like I belonged for many years.  My original plan was to go back to Mexico City after graduating from college. I did not have any good reason to stay, and I didn't enjoy living here. However, during my senior year, I met my now-husband Ryan Whelan, and he is the reason I decided to stay in the US. With that said, I love Oakland; it feels like home now. 

I don't think I would have started making art if it wasn't because I moved here. I've always wanted to do it, but never felt like that was the right path for me. I went to school for design, and it wasn't until 2015 that I began painting because Ryan motivated me to give it a try. That led us to create multiple exhibitions together, and we still work closely to support each others' practices.

The Bay Area introduced me to people who were creating art that did not feel pretentious or superficial. I truly felt a sense of community and did not have pressure to create something that needed to fit a specific mold. I saw people making work for themselves and the community around them. People who care and show up for each other. I felt very connected to that. That has been my personal experience, but I do not want to make it sound like everything is perfect. There's also a lot of art world bullshit like everywhere else. 
Moving here made me very nostalgic for my life in Mexico, and pushed me to reflect on what I was missing the most. Moving gave me space from my country. It allowed me to understand my privilege, the things I value the most from my homeland, and the things that need to be criticized and push to change, even when I am far away. 

Liz Hernández, “Mis símbolos sagrados (My sacred symbols).” Aluminum on panel. 32.5 x 32.5 inches. 2020

Two of my favorites are Mis símbolos sagrados (My sacred symbols) and Los símbolos sagrados de mi Abuela (My Grandmother's holy symbols). Where do these symbols come from and what do they mean to you?

Everyday rituals inspired both of these pieces. The first one depicts symbols of objects or rites that I find either powerful or protective. The rings I always wear, braiding my hair, feeling the sun in the morning, and telling stories are things that feel meditative and spiritual to me, even though they aren't necessarily religious.

For my grandma, I depicted symbols based on rituals that are important to her. Praying, going to church, egg and herb cleanings, her faith in the Holy Death, my Granpa, making food for her family, and even playing with her dogs. She still has a strong connection to Catholicism, but she finds other activities as moments for reflection and connection to herself.

Liz Hernández, “Autoridad (Authority).” Vinyl paint and clay on canvas. 40 x 32 inches. 2020

I love your use of hands and eyes. Can you explain what ideas you’re interested in exploring through the use of these motifs?

Hands play a crucial role in the rituals of the Catholic church and Marian Trinitarian Spiritualism. To me, our hands are gentle but powerful. They offer protection and strength while also allowing us to create, nurture, and help others.

The eyes have many meanings: they feel like a symbol of knowledge, wisdom, and seeking the truth. They are a gateway to our soul, but they also represent the spirits that are always surrounding us. If we allow them into our lives, we might be able to experience them.

Has your grandmother seen these works? What would she think?

My grandma still lives in Mexico City, and I try calling her at least once every couple of weeks. I asked my aunt to help me show her the photographs of the work on her smartphone.

She liked the exhibition and immediately understood what the pieces were about, and got all the references. That was the most crucial opinion, and what made me realize the work was successful. I did it to honor my family, and I didn't want to wait until I could not ask for her opinion. Her approval mattered the most to me.

The one thing she said that stuck with me was: "I never thought anyone cared about what I believe in, but I am happy to see the spiritual world and our visits to the temple inspired you to create all of this." I felt like I was never able to express to her how much she influenced me until we talked about the exhibition. It was a really important moment for me as an artist, but also as a granddaughter and a person.

Liz Hernández, “Pureza (Purity).” Vinyl paint and clay on canvas. 40 x 32 inches. 2020

I love the title of the exhibition, Talismán. Can you share about what it means to you, especially in our current climate of uncertainty?

Last year I visited my family, and my parents and I went to a market called Mercado De Sonora in Mexico City. It's a huge indoor market where you can buy various things, like toys, party supplies, and produce, but there is a significant portion dedicated to witchcraft and magic. When I was there, I noticed many vendors sold objects as talismans for good luck and protection. My family goes there a couple of times a year to purchase only magic products. Last time, my mom and I purchased many to gift to others but we kept some for ourselves.

After I came back to Oakland, I began thinking about the word Talisman. It stuck to my brain, and even though I was unsure what the exhibition would be about, I knew it had to be called Talismán. I researched the etymology of the word and read more about its Greek origin.

To the ancient Greeks, the word meant "completion of a rite", but more accurately, "I complete a rite." That definition emphasized the importance of the believer rather than the object used in a ritual. I thought about how any item could become powerful just with the power of intention.

I'm very superstitious and have a set of talismans that offer me protection, and I have felt comfort by keeping them close to me during 2020. When the coronavirus pandemic became more prominent in the US, my mom texted me saying my grandma needed to talk to me. When we got on the phone, her tone was urgent. She mentioned a dream she had the previous night, where she spoke to my grandpa who passed away a few years ago. In her dream, my grandpa told her that everyone in our family needed to make a white bracelet with whatever we could find. The bracelet he gave her in the dream was made of small white glass beads, but he mentioned that a white ribbon or even string would do. My grandpa told her that this would be a symbol of protection and that we had to wear it. After the call, I tied a cotton string to my wrist, and I did the same thing to my husband Ryan. We wore the string for many months until we couldn't do it anymore. That was my 2020 Talisman.


For more information on Liz Hernández and her exhibition, Talismán, please visit Part 2 Gallery.