By Yudi Kravzov
I was concentrating on my things when Oscar Aguirre entered the Appel Gallery asking for Irma Appel. It seemed like another life since we last saw one another! We hugged, and I happily introduced Irma, who is my mother.
«Nice to meet you, ma’am,» he greeted her affectionately, and, without restraint, I began to tell my mother all about his countless art education workshops. From his exhibitions around the world, to the creative and dynamic process with which he governs his teaching, and about EMPEZARTE (ARTSTART), the organization that he directs.
“We have students of all ages and all levels,” Oscar told us. “Our environment is multicultural and bilingual. Each student works at their own pace, and we provide a wide variety of materials and techniques.”
“I can already imagine the discoveries, telling Oscar that what he is doing is exactly what Francisco Toledo (one of Mexico’s most influential contemporary artists) would have wanted to do. Tireless, he was always worried about bringing artistic education closer to the children of our country. I also met his sister. Toledo was a man of few words. It was he who brought us the master Teódulo Rómulo to the Appel Gallery”, said Irma.
“So he knew you personally?” Oscar asked.
Irma: “Of course. He was the protégé of Rufino and Olga Tamayo; they introduced him to me. Proud of his Zapotec origin, he appeared wearing his huaraches, his white blanket shirt, and with tousled hair even at the most important ceremonies. I remember him with his fast walk and always, always with a notebook in his hands. He made news when he protested against the opening of a McDonald’s in the historic center of Oaxaca. Everyone there had a story about Toledo. He was described as «the great defender of Oaxaca.» But what you are doing is exactly what he was looking for with his kite and notebook project. I congratulate you, Oscar.”
“Thank you very much, Irma,” Oscar replied, “but things are not easy at all. Many organizations like EMPEZARTE are floundering. There is a lack of resources to sustain these dreams.”
“These dreams … I’m getting an idea,” my mother tells us, and I recognize that amused voice and that mischievous look. She continues, saying, “I have part of the Norman Bardavid collection of kites and notebooks—the one they took out in 2006 at the Institute of Graphic Arts. Norman found the first editions of his kites with fabulous animals. Every piece in that collection bears his sign. With that edition Norman supported the San Agustín Etla paper factory, founded by Toledo himself. How about organizing a special sale with those notebooks and those kites and get those dreams going?”
Do you think it’s okay to set aside Thursday to Sunday, August 4-7? Shall we call him “The Giant of Mexican Culture” or “The Oaxacan Wizard?”, I asked.
“People say that when Toledo died,” mused my mother without answering my question, “a graffiti appeared on the wall in Oaxaca with his punk-style face with straight hair and the phrase ‘God never dies.’ “I listen to you, Oscar, and I think that Toledo is still alive, running with a kite in the air and walking with a hurried step, with a notebook under his arm”, said my mother Irma.
