THOSE WHO COME TO MEET: AN INVITATION TO DÍA DE MUERTOS
Photography by Luis Garvan
In Mexico City, locals and visitors were welcomed in the famed Pujol restaurant with an opulent installation by art director and visual artist, Orly Anan. Orly explores mysticism, ritual and tradition in her tribute to Día de Muertos assembling traditional ingredients from the kitchen of Pujol and beyond. Pujol welcomed guests with food for the soul, in this case, tamales and atole. The smell of the food, the drinks, the copal and the various flowers attract not only the living, but the souls that have left this world. They came around for a stroll to appreciate Orly’s work, the warm tamales and the gathering of those still living.
A council of souls is what we suppose will arrive. They will enter through the big door or through a crack in the floor and they will sit in the available places, without there being a soul bothered. The souls of the loved ones will arrive first at the pantheon and then disperse to the grounds that were once theirs. They will sit there, in the grave that bears their name, in front of the cross that was placed there when they left the world of the flesh. Or they will sit in the heap of plants that swirl in the cornfields they abandoned to go to another world: In the crisscrossed pods of frijoles, in the leaves of the corn, next to the flowers of the pumpkins that will become round, full of water, and ready for the feast.
They will travel to the living room of some house to perch gently on the seat of an armchair; It is easy to see them next to the clay griddle on which eggs were once prepared or on the seashore struggling to keep the breeze from lifting them higher than necessary. They will come following the path of the cempasúchil flowers: a path that guides them to affection. They will be able to caress themselves with the red velvet of the flowers that grow in the high humid areas. They will arrive with the illumination of the candles, the aroma of the copal. The resin and the wax serve as hooks to bring them back.
‘The souls of the loved ones will arrive first at the pantheon and then disperse to the grounds that were once theirs. They will sit there, in the grave that bears their name, in front of the cross that was placed there when they left the world of the flesh.’
They will also come to see what has been placed there to give to them: pieces of memory so that they do not forget the place where they had affection, where they left their mark. In homes, in cemeteries, in kitchens and collective spaces there are images that say: you were here!, you are from here!, don’t forget us!, we don’t forget you!
The souls will come, they will sit down to celebrate. They will toast for themselves, with their hands raised in the air to say, “cheers”! It is about opening the floodgates to receive: there are those who smoke, those who dance and ruffle the branches of the trees with their movement; there are those who regret not being able to meet or embrace the grandchild that was just born, and those who continue with a discomfort that not even death can remove; the cheaters, the playful, the careful ones are back. The souls who do not believe in it, who think that their body will return to them, are also back.
The little souls arrive in Todos los Santos and peek at the altars with nardos and daisies. They peek into the clay jars to find which prizes they contain and the wooden tables saturated with pink, yellow and orange papers. There are dog-shaped candies, chocolates, the breads perfumed with a dose of jasmine, a little skull with their name etched in colored sugar. There are pictures with their mom, with their doggie, with their toys. They are accompanied by animals: a cat, a donkey, and a morning rooster. The little souls come to drink atole and hot chocolate, egg yolk bread, anise bread, and caramelized pumpkin; they sit by the flowers because they come to make a fuss and to experience joy that will remain with them forever.
‘Sometimes they will come to embrace their loved ones; sometimes, to find out what’s new, to catch up, to see how things have changed since they left, to see what the rest of us are doing.’
The dead will come and sit down to eat: with a taste of the mole that was prepared for them, with rice and sesame seeds. The perfectly cooked goat, brown and juicy, will have them coming back here. They will drink sotol, tequila, and mezcal. They will come sometimes just to taste the carne asada that they don’t have in their world of vapors. Sometimes they will come to embrace their loved ones; sometimes, to find out what’s new, to catch up, to see how things have changed since they left, to see what the rest of us are doing. Sometimes we will have them here just to look at us as one looks at a mirror: like this, like now.
