Some 200 galleries are on hand from around the world. Here are one expert's picks.
A crowded art fair can feel like an obstacle course if you have been in the industry for a while. Everywhere you turn, there are friends and colleagues to greet. That was definitely the case on Wednesday in Mexico City, as the New York-based Latin American art specialist Ana Sokoloff, a former Christie's vice president, made her way through Zona Maco, which runs through Sunday at the Centro Banamex convention center.
Founded in 2004 by Zélika García, the fair is well loved throughout Latin America, and certain mishaps have actually deepened people's affection for it, she said. In 2010, for instance, smoke from the Eyjafjallajökull volcano in Iceland forced people to stay longer than they had planned.
Zona Maco hosts 200 galleries from 29 countries across four continents. It has contributed hugely to cultural tourism, and while heavy hitters like Gladstone, Lisson, and Pace do not appear every year, their participation speaks to the strength of the Mexican market, she said.
Fabric works by Eduardo Terrazas at Mexico City's Proyectos Monclova caught her eye early on. "It's become trendy to look back to artisanal traditions," she said, standing before his sumptuous geometric woven works, "but he's been doing it since the 1960s!"
She stopped in at Lamb Gallery, visiting from London, which offered a comfortable place to sit: a handsome bench by Colombian designer Lucia Echavarria. From there, more fabric works were in evidence, including a small Sheila Hicks next to a towering untitled sculptural tapestry by Jacques Douchez (1959-80) that looked so fresh it could have been straight off of the loom.
Travesía Cuatro, of Mexico City, is showing two poetic sculptures by Tania Pérez Córdova that are based on simple memories of everyday objects and scenes -- the shape of a door at a friend's home, for example, reproduced in bronze. Another piece is inspired by the notion that a wine bottle might be based on the size of one human exhalation; a glass form is encased in a shape that recalls a seed, the start of life. "They're difficult to explain but poetic," said Sokoloff.
Sokoloff pointed out that, in the booths of many Latin American galleries, artists were plumbing their nations' troubled histories, particularly the effects of drug cartels.
One such example was at Ruth Benzacar Galería de Arte of Buenos Aires, a strong supporter of contemporary Argentine art for three generations, Sokoloff said. It has on view an installation by Ana Gallardo that explores artworks made in secret by her own artist mother, Carmen Gómez Raba, who was prohibited from practicing her profession publicly during the years of dictatorship in the country.
One painting, a still life of flowers, hangs on the wall, on top of an enlarged image of another work, showing a seated woman. Before them on the floor rest two ceramic pieces by Ana's daughter, Rocío. (Both artists and gallery stretch over three generations.)
Exploring the past in a different way, Étienne Chambaud at Mexico City's Labor gallery covers religious icons with gold leaf, leaving untouched only the areas of exposed human bodies such as hands, feet, and eyes, to create what he calls "Uncreatures." Though they are mysterious and a bit unsettling, they're "easy to like," Sokoloff said playfully. "Who doesn't love gold?"
At Afriart Gallery, in town from Kampala, Uganda, Sokoloff pointed out a large work by Ugandan artist Sanaa Gatja with beads mounted on barkcloth. Sokoloff, impressed by the vibrant colors, was reminded of El Anatsui. Since the beads are made from recycled newspapers and fashion magazines, a gallery staffer said, each one contains a thousand stories.
An especially personal connection for my guide popped up in paintings by Roberto Gil de Montes, on view at the booth of Mexico City heavyweight Kurimanzutto. They show people relaxing on the beach at Peñitas de Jaltemba, a Mexican town that Sokoloff described as "so tiny it almost doesn't exist," and one that she knows. Her aunt, as part of her medical training, served as a doctor there, and Sokoloff was brought there many times as a child -- miserable with carsickness on the way, she recalled.
Casa Hoffmann, of Bogotá, Colombia, is showing beautiful wood sound sculptures by Leonel Vásquez. They incorporate rocks found in the beds of dried Colombian rivers that are made to spin using a hand crank; pieces of wood rest on them in the manner of a needle on a vinyl record, so they put out sound via brass bugles in a delightful analog-amplifying system. Even in the busy fair environment, I could hear a wind-like sound coming from one horn as a gallery staffer turned the crank.
One thing that's special about Zona Maco is that it is really four fairs in one -- we had a great lunch at a table smack in the middle of the section of the fair devoted to antiques. There's also a photo fair, and a design fair, as well; the various art forms are on the same footing in the giant convention center.
After an intense few hours surveying the contemporary art offerings, Sokoloff unwound a bit at the other fairs. Galeria Rodrigo Rivero-Lake, for one, offered a wild mirrored bar designed by Arturo Pani in about 1960.
Nearby, Rivero-Lake pointed out a painting by Angel Zárraga Argüelles. Diego Rivera once work for him as an assistant, the dealer said, but they became rivals, and Rivera later trashed him.
Sokoloff stopped off at the design fair to see her friend Carla Fernández, who is deeply engaged with Indigenous traditions throughout Mexico. She collaborates with more than 200 artisans across some 16 states, Fernández told me.