In ‘Chronicles de Cocina,’ Latinx artists examine the connections between food, family and heritage

Featured photo: In Tabata Chisse’s piece “Los hijos de maíz,” a woman holds two ears of corn in the soft creases of her hips, filling in the space of her pelvis. (photo courtesy of Casa Azul)

The smell of grilled chicken spiced with oregano, paprika, cumin and garlic coats the air. The sweet essence of ground corn meets the hearty umami of cooked beef, tangy olives and chopped hard-boiled eggs. It’s summer in Chile, and Claudia Femenias’s grandmother, Hortensia, is making pastel de choclo.

“She would make it every summer,” Femenias reminisces. “And then we would all crash and take a nap.”

In the small gallery at the African American Atelier in Greensboro, Femenias walks through Casa Azul’s newest exhibition that graces the walls: Chronicles de Cocina (The stories we tell through Latinx food).

She and Casa Azul’s Coordinator of Operations Carlos Gonzalez and the African-American Atelier’s Gallery Director Jocelyn Brown, contemplate the pieces, stopping at two large paintings by Cuban painter Gliser Fuentes Mena.

On one of the canvases, a woman — perhaps a grandmother like Claudia’s — stands in the kitchen, preparing a meal. She’s dressed in varying shades of blue, her back towards the viewer as she mixes ingredients in a red pot. On the wall to the woman’s left, a poster displays the words “breakfast” and “lunch” in various languages from Spanish to French to Tagalog. The work is titled, “The Rainbow Diet.” The painting next to it, “Grandma’s Flowers,” reminds Gonzalez of his own grandmother, Maria.

“That looks exactly like my grandma’s house when we were little, when we were growing up,” says Gonzalez, who moved from Puerto Rico to the states in 2010. “We didn’t have a lot growing up, but I remember the most comforting and best memories were sitting at the table together, sharing stories, talking about our day. And yeah, I love that. It just really brought the aspect of family to me whenever I think about what food means to me.”

The show, which opened on Aug. 30 and runs through Oct. 12, features 16 Latinx artists from around the world — a majority of them local — as they examine their connections with food through paintings, photographs and sculptures. 

“It’s asking the question, ‘What is the meaning besides just nourishment, besides just eating?’” Femenias explains about the goal of the show. 

On Sept. 12, there will be a free artist talk at the gallery. Other events like a conversation with Sandra Gutierrez, a cookbook author, and an evening of culinary literature and poetry, will also take place in the next few weeks.

In Tabata Chisse’s photographs, the spiritual meets the worldly to create sensual portraits that speak to femininity and the sanctity of the body.

“Soy de Maíz, piel que ha besado el sol,” which means “I am made of corn, skin that has been kissed by the sun,” displays a woman lying face up on a bed of corn husks as she cradles a row of fresh corn across her chest.

“Hands express our intentions: they caress, comfort, punish, work. A good hand for making a sauce is like a good hand for giving a massage, a valuable and rare attribute,” Chisse writes in the work’s description. “Sensual sauces, those that the lover secretly treasures along with the most intimate and daring gestures, require imagination.”

In an accompanying piece, a woman holds two ears of corn in the soft creases of her hips, filling in the space of her pelvis. In the description for “Los hijos del maíz,” Chisse quotes from the Popol Vuh or a text on Mayan mythology.

“From yellow corn and white corn was made their flesh; from corn dough were made the arms and legs of man. Only corn dough entered the flesh of our fathers,” the description offers.

While Chisse’s pieces touch on heritage and ancestry, Brenda Y. Fonseca Martinez’s piece, “Desconocido,” exemplifies the relationship between food and family in a different light.

In the mixed media piece, which was created using a kitchen table, Martinez portrays a pair of smiling children trapped inside a 1977 bottle of Mexican liquor. At the bottom of the piece hangs a pair of legs. In her description, Martinez explains how the work is part of a larger series titled La Sobreviviente, or the Survivor, which speaks to the issue of alcoholism in Mexican families. 

“In Mexican culture, there is a history of ‘fiesta drinking,’ Martinez writes. “It’s seen as a norm and encouraged as it becomes a normal habit, not seen as alcoholism.”

In another part of the show, artist George Le Chevallier interviews chefs and creates pieces based on the cooks’ favorite meal. For “Mole Rojo con Pollo y Arroz,” Chevallier paints a bright gradient line of orange and burnt red garnished with sesame seeds onto a canvas while in the corner, he builds a sculpture using grains of rice and real chicken bones. 

The curators of the exhibit hope that coming away from the show, viewers reflect on their own personal experiences and appreciate how food can build connections beyond the plate.

“I think the biggest thing out of all of this is just showing that, hey, we’re all just a meal away from being able to sit down and have a conversation,” Brown says. 

“I like that,” Gonzalez says. “Just one meal away.”

The artist talk takes place on Thursday at 6 p.m. at the African American Atelier. The show is on display at the African American Atelier in the Greensboro Cultural Center through Oct. 12. Learn more at casaazulgreensboro.org.