La Magia Del Pueblo: Interview with Luis Sahagún

Perpetual Ceremony no. 01 (Limpia for Zina Horteska), 2024. Charcoal, beads, beeswax, feathers, glitter, clay, maiz, cobija san marcos, on osb. 17 x 14 in. Photo courtesy of Latchkey Gallery.

By CLARE GEMIMA June 8, 2024

Luis Sahagún tenderly blends ancient traditions with contemporary practices in La Magia Del Pueblo, his current solo show at Latchkey Gallery. The artist-healer creates energy fueled paintings and sculptures that he realizes through acts of participatory ritual and spiritual remediation.  

As a guide to many of his portrayed figures, Sahagún re-navigates energies that don’t belong, and infuses his characters with triumphant rejuvenation, seen through his hyper-realistic portraits rendered in charcoal. By adorning these drawings with feathers, intricate bead tessellations, and pieces cut from cobijas San Marcos, characters like Zina and Priscilla blossom with artifacts that subliminally reference privately shared experiences with the artist, resulting in richly textured artworks that embody and glorify each of these character’s desires to heal and cleanse what no longer serves them. 

Throughout our interview, Sahagún offers further insight into his immersion in Curanderismo, a profound influence that shapes both his personal and professional realm. This ancient practice not only informs his artistic process, but also guides the spiritual journeys he embarks on with his aforementioned sitters. Sahagún also delves into his innovative techniques, particularly his adept use of unique tools like smoke, Palo Santo, and fire. Each material choice serves as a testament to the artist’s dedication to honoring and reclaiming indigenous narratives, and volumizing underrepresented voices. 

Many of the works, like The Cross & the Sword no .3 for example, serve as conduits between bygone eras and the present, offering a new and pure space for cultural celebration and reflection within La Magia Del Pueblo. The exhibition, which will remain on view until June 9, stands as a truly impressive showcase that captures the genuine essence and truest core of Luis Sahagún’s passionately innate craftsmanship.

Soul Energy no. 02, 2024. Palo Santo, Charcoal, oil, fire, and smoke on panel. 20 x 16 in. Photo courtesy of Latchkey Gallery. 

Clare Gemima: I want to jump into your use of new materials and how you actually use them. Smoke, Palo Santo, Fire - can you paint a picture of what sort of marks these tools and gasses procure on works like Soul Energy no.02? 

Luis Sahagún: Soul Energy no. 02 was born from the ritual of burning Palo Santo, a sacred moment of purification that honors Chuyel, the sacred soul energies of the medicine wheel, or the cardinal directions. My desire was to create works of art that serve as conduits for energetically purifying the space they occupy. Ritually, I ignite my Palo Santo, holding one end of the stick at a downward angle towards my flame, allowing it to gain strength and release its aromatic smoke. With each flicker of the flame and swirl of smoke, old energies are released, making space for new intentions and positivity to enter. I believe that the building of marks with the smoke, fire, and charcoal is a gentle rhythmic dance between myself and the spirit realm.

Clare Gemima: I am also curious as to how you first got the idea to cut large shapes and lace your panels with dyed faux-fur trim?

Luis Sahagún: My art ideas all stem from a central focus on healing and reclaiming indigenous histories. Each material and choice I make aims to steer conversations toward these topics. The material you are referencing is the Cobija San Marcos, commonly known as Tiger Blankets. These blankets are deeply rooted in pre-Cuauhtemoc indigenous weaving and healing traditions in Mexico. Blankets play a crucial role in Curanderismo, as they are used in ceremonies and treatments, they carry healing energies of cultural tradition and connection to animal medicine and the land. I wrap my work with these blankets as a symbolic hug or gesture that celebrates my heritage and my ancestral traditions. 

The Cross & the Sword no .3, 2024. Gorilla glue, obsidian, feathers, glitter, and found objects. 8.5 x 9 x4 in. Photo courtesy of Latchkey Gallery. 

Clare Gemima: Curanderismo is a healing practice found in the indigenous cultures of Mexico, that I am aware you practice yourself. I would like to understand what it means to be a Curandero, and how you first entered into this realm of healing and herbal remediation. Considering most of us could search this term on Google, I am more interested in the symbolism of this practice in your day-to-day life, and curious as to how long you have been helping people to improve through spiritualistic and ritualistic methods. How does Curanderismo translate to you? 

Luis Sahagún: The origins of Curanderismo trace back to colonization and the resilience of indigenous Mexico and Africa. Often referred to as the medicine of the “three headed serpent,” it blends together the mind, spirit, and heart of three cultures - Spanish, Aztec, and African. Historically, research on this medicine has focused on the Spanish and Aztec side of this tradition. However, the most common rituals practiced in Curanderismo such as ‘la limpia del huevo’ (spiritual cleansing with an egg), ‘ventosas’ (fire cupping), as well as milk baths originate from West Africa.

For me, Curanderismo is more than just medicine; it is a spiritual and cultural tapestry that embodies the strength, adaptability, and interconnectedness of those who have endured and thrived despite historical adversities, reflecting the la magia del pueblo, or the magic of the people, which lies in their collective resilience and shared wisdom.

I first entered into this realm of healing through a combination of family tradition and personal calling. Growing up in a Mexican-American household, I was exposed to the rituals and remedies of Curanderismo from a young age. My abuelita Guadalupe Nuno, who was a respected clairvoyant-healer in our community, taught me the basics by modeling a life deeply connected to plants, animals, and the Earth. Her respect for every living being was evident in the way she tended to her garden, engaged with people in the mercados, and how she spoke and sang to animals. 

For the last ten years, my art practice has explored themes of resilience, grief, loss, and  interconnectedness. However, over the last four years, I have embraced my role as an artist-healer more intentionally, guided by mentors with over 40 years of experience in the practice. Their teachings and wisdom has deepened my understanding and enhanced my work.  

Clare Gemima: Are the subjects you have chosen to portray through portraiture people you have worked with to heal? Additionally, as seen in specific portrait titles like, Limpia for Priscilla Hernandez, and Limpia for Zina Horteska, what does the term ‘limpia’ imply in this context?  

Luis Sahagún: My portraits embrace the profound sacrality of the most common ritual practiced in Latinx cultures – a limpia. Limpia traditions are as diverse as the thousands of indigenous peoples that have existed in the Americas. They can be simple or complex. The portrait limpias that I performed for my family and community members are of my own creation. They are private, and conducted in various ways.  

The process for these limpias begins with a platica, or conversation, that asks the sitters questions like “what is a story you are walking around with that needs ceremony or healing?”, “what does your heart need right now?”, and “what would you like to release?”

Once this information is shared with me, I instruct my sitter to incorporate a few daily rituals of their own, on their own time, and in their own space. I then give them a schedule of when I will be working on their portrait/limpia. A portrait usually consists of 2-5 limpia ceremonies, and can take up to a month to create. There are some check-ins with the sitter via text, zoom or phone. 

In the studio, I use the information from our platica to create rituals and ceremonies guided by my art practice,  along with the Mexican medicine wheel to procure the cleansings, healings, and/or purifications requested by the sitter. The ceremony of drawing turns into a shamanic journey where I tap into the spirit world to find the medicine and knowledge needed for the sitter. During the journey, and once I am connected to my Nagual or spirit guide, I create miniature sculptures that communicate the medicine needed. These mini sculptures are then adhered to the paintings along with custom made resin beads that are charged with plant medicine, chants, and images important to the sitter. 

For Priscilla Hernandez’s limpia, it was a general cleansing. We worked on releasing fear and tension from her body felt by her experiences of being a 42 year old student returning to school to fulfill her dreams of graduating from college. Priscilla is attending Weber State University in Ogden Utah.

Installation view of Coatlicue, Cobijia blanket, 66 x 54 & Perpetual Ceremony no. 04 (Limpia for Priscilla Hernandez), 2024, Charcoal, beads, beeswax, seashells, feathers, glitter, clay, maiz, cobija san marcos, on osb 17 x 14 x 2 in. Photo courtesy of Latchkey Gallery. 

Clare Gemima: Your works collisionally consider western traditional art histories as well, seen across your gorilla-glue gooey sculptures, and fur trimmed paintings. Could you name one living artist that serves as a seminal character in your making, along with one artist who is no longer living that has made a pivotal impact on you?  

Luis Sahagún: In 2011, I visited the MCA in Chicago and found myself marveling at Mark Bradford's (b.1961) first survey exhibition. I am amazed by his ability to make work rooted in personal history, social awareness, and material innovation, all the while staying deeply grounded with community engagement.  

Martin Ramirez (1895 – 1963) has undoubtedly been a pivotal influence in my work. I’m enamored by his emotional and imaginative depth. I am in awe of his ability to use art as a way to reclaim his agency and assert his identity, despite facing institutionalization and societal marginalization.

Clare Gemima: While visiting La Magia Del Pueblo, I was told that you feel as though there is no good or bad energy, just energy that doesn’t belong. I am curious about what this means to you, and what happens to the energy that doesn't belong? Is this a traditional Mexican aphorism, or a personal sentiment? 

Luis Sahagún: The idea that there's no inherently good or bad energy is not specific to Mexican culture, but is instead part of a broader philosophical perspective on energy. The Curanderismo I practice and the wisdom imparted by my mentors revolve around the belief that all life is born from energy and interconnectedness. Everything in our world is imbued with energy, including our bodies, which serve as vessels for this vital force. This energy stems from a fountain of creation, known by various names across different religions and cultures. 

Energy that doesn't belong refers to energy that is out of alignment and often feels disruptive to someone's life. When this happens, we can conduct a limpia, (in my case a portrait limpia), that will help restore energetic harmony. The energy that is not serving us does not disappear, but rather it is transformed by redirecting it seven layers into Tonantzin or Mother Earth so that she may purify it.  

La Magia Del Pueblo is on view May 10 through June 9, 2024 at Latchkey Gallery, New York. WM