Most often associated with Mexico, the piñata’s origins may actually trace back to China. By the 14th century, the celebratory tradition of breaking open a container filled with treats had arrived in Europe. Then, Spanish colonists and missionaries imported the custom to Mexico during the 16th century, although a similar practice was already in use within Indigenous Mayan and Aztec communities in observation of special events. Today, piñatas are an integral element of cartonería, the Mexican craft of papier-mâché.
For Los Angeles-based artist Roberto Benavidez, the art of the piñata is a central tenet of a practice exploring intersecting themes of race, sexuality, humor, sin, and beauty. He draws upon the paper art form’s early religious significance in Mexico, when Spanish missionaries used a seven-pointed version as a tool for converting Indigenous people to Christianity. This motif, which appears in some of Benavidez’s distinctive sculptures, nods to its past colonial use.
“The points of the star represented the seven deadly sins, the blindfold worn by the bat-wielding assailant represented faith, and the treats found inside were the rewards for blind and unwavering belief,” Diva Zumaya says in an exhibition essay for the artist’s current solo exhibition, Bosch Beasts, at Perrotin.
Benavidez continues to make piñata-like sculptures that resemble uncanny, hybrid creatures, often inspired by the marginalia of illuminated manuscripts and the surreal characters in Hieronymus Bosch’s “The Garden of Earthly Delights,” which the Netherlandish artist painted between 1490 and 1510.
Bosch Beasts highlights Benavidez’s ongoing fascination with the rare and extraordinary, exhibiting new works alongside pieces he’s made throughout the past decade. Installed on the floor or suspended from the ceiling, his creatures appear independently occupied and immersed in an esoteric group activity.
Each piece comes to life through papier-mâché, using a balloon to create the central form before adding more structure with Bristol board and additional layers of glue-slathered paper. Wire supports more delicate limbs and appendages, and to achieve the final texture, Benavidez cuts and attaches every tiny feather or scale.
“Drawing from his personal experience as a queer and mixed-race Mexican
American, Benavidez starts from a foundation of hybridity in which these monsters are the perfect actors,” Zumaya says, continuing:
Every mixed-race person who has become well acquainted with the question, “What are you?” is all too familiar with how it feels to live at the borders of identities, appearances complicating the compulsion to categorize. The way Benavidez uses these hybrid bodies to conjure ideas around race echoes their meaning in sixteenth-century Europe, where notions of the monstrous were profoundly intertwined with early formations of race.
Bosch Beasts continues through October 18 in Los Angeles. See more on the artist’s website and Instagram.
