The Eye of God:
Tranquility and Tradition . . .
Mata Ortiz Pottery
In Harmony with the Ancients
by
Phil Stover
November 23, 2006
“Papa” Julian Hernandez knows everyone in town. Drive anywhere in Casas Grandes with him and your conversation will be punctuated with the beep of the horn, the wave of the hand and a hearty “¿Como Esta? Having started twenty-three schools in twenty years, Julian Hernandez has students everywhere. He is an out-going big man with an even bigger smile. If the Grinch’s heart was two sizes 
too small, Julian’s seems two sizes too big. He is passionate about his family, his school, the young people of his community and . . . his pottery.
Julian’s family has lived near Casas Grandes for over two-hundred years. The Pueblo of Casas Grandes is the stuff of a Mexican tour guide’s fantasy. The small village of 5,000 people has it all: Saturday night weddings with everyone dressed to the hilt, a delightful plaza in the center of town where locals take their evening stroll, a historic Catholic church with twin bell towers, and beautifully shy señoritas. It also has Mennonite farmers and Mormon fruit growers. George Romney, a senator and one-time American presidential candidate was born and educated near here. Tradition and tranquility are the community’s highest values. Casas Grandes has it all . . . and more.
Casas Grandes is the site of the ruins of Paquimé, the largest ancient city of northern Mexico. Inhabited between 900 and 1450 AD, Paquimé is an archaeologist’s delight and an anthropologist’s dilemma. No one knows exactly who the inhabitants of this great city were, where they came from, or where they went. With their macaws, ball fields and metalwork, they may have represented the northernmost reach of Mesoamerican culture. With their knowledge of desert hydrology, cisterns and architectural styles, they may have been the southernmost extension of the Great Chichimeca, connected to the better known Anasazi, Hohokam, Mogollon and Mimbres cultures. Maybe they were a little of both. One thing is known for sure: a pottery tradition developed at Paquimé that represents one of the highest forms of the art in prehistoric North America.
Back to Julian . . . he loves to talk about Paquimé and the old ones of Casas Grandes; not because they are a culture, because they are his culture. While we cannot directly connect any modern-day Mexican group back to that culture, it is clear that after 200 years of family and geographical ties, Julian endorses it as his own, a tie that is clearly seen in the iconography of his pottery. He worked with Mexican archaeologists at the Paquimé dig in the sixties. He is proud that he helped map more than a thousand archaeological sites all over northwest Chihuahua.
While appreciative of what it has meant to the community, Julian is a bit less enthusiastic about endorsing what has often been called “The Miracle of Mata Ortiz.” The community of Mata Ortiz is the other world famous neighbor of the pueblo of Casas Grandes. The village of Mata Ortiz doesn’t have a tourist attraction; it is one. More than four hundred of the town’s population are potters. Their skills and income vary widely. Their pottery is hand-made, painted and sometimes fired outdoors, for the most part in ways that would make the old ones at Paquimé proud. For years the economic survival of the town was in doubt; satellite dishes and new pickups now dot the landscape. The best potters of Mata Ortiz have received world-wide acclaim.
Their heritage is at the same time the great pottery tradition of Casas Grandes and the murky world of those who dug prehistoric pots to sell, and then who made pots to look old when the old were no longer readily available. This darker side of the Mata Ortiz force seems as ancient today as the ruins themselves. Even Julian himself says “My older relatives dug pots and then made pots to sell as old ones. They didn’t think they were doing anything bad. They were just working!” For Julian, this history doesn’t take the shine off the Mata Ortiz ollas; in fact, for him it is an important part of the story that is rarely told.
Julian isn’t completely comfortable that much of the production of today’s Mata Ortiz potters is, in his opinion, neither traditional nor tranquil. Great swirls dance around the pots; non-desert animals peer out at the viewer. Row upon row of squares, resembling 
a Sudoku puzzle, present a dizzying effect. Ingenuity and creativity are encouraged by the traders. This is what people buy. This is where Julian and others like him part ways with the modern Mata Ortiz magic. On the other hand, some American art connoisseurs such as those at The Museum of Fine Arts in Santa Fe say this is not mere craft or a reproduction of a dead culture, but contemporary fine art.
Having learned to work the clay as a young boy from his grandmother and mother, Julian today is first and foremost a teacher. He is also an evangelist for Paquimé and Mimbres designs. He demands quality from his students. He is determined that all who enter the gate of his gallery will leave with a new understanding of the old designs and maybe even one or two of his pots! Ask him a question and be prepared for the answer . . . however long it takes. He travels to conduct pottery workshops where he teaches the old designs and the old methods.
For traditionalists like Julian the earth talks to the potter while he or she works it. Every pot sings its own song. With careful ears, a good potter can hear the music, using its inspiration to create a work of art that is as unique and beautiful as the song itself. Julian believes the music was lost for seven hundred years. Now the earth is running fast to catch up and to once again sing in the minds and hands of potters who are faithful to its muse. Traditional artists like Sabino Villalba (who taught both his famous father Andrés and Julian) the words and notes of this prehistoric canon. Julian and others like him believe that they honor their heritage not just by making pots, but by making pots without modern methods, additives or designs. They are indeed the traditional potters of the modern Mata Ortiz phenomenon. They can be found in Mata Ortiz itself, in Casas Grandes and even in the “big city” of Nuevo Casas Grandes. They are less well known and less well-off than their more “modern” counterparts. They are, however, part of the same tradition and passion and deserve the same exposure. It is good that through these potters, Mata Ortiz maintains this link to the source of its inspiration.
For these who insist on making their pottery the “old” way, there are three tests:
Materials – The pottery must be made with natural clays dug from the local area. There can be no additives (plaster of paris, etc) mixed with the clay, other than that which comes directly from the earth (caliche, for example). Paints must be mineral and collected locally. No commercial paints and no shoe polish (to bring out the shine) are acceptable.
Markings – The designs on the pottery should be the ancient designs, known from the myriad pots and shards left behind by the old ones. Mimbres and especially Paquimé designs are prized. Although the original meanings are unknown, there having been a five-hundred year break from the culture of the original potters, these modern traditionalists love to talk all day about the meaning and tradition behind the buena fe, the labyrinth, the macaw and the eye of God. Animals are fine, but they should be the denizens of the high desert. Potters like the Villalba family in Mata Ortiz literally keep a library of books that show the old designs. They eagerly scour the pages to copy the old designs on their pots.
Methods – The pottery should be hand-formed . . . no wheels will do. No one uses glazes; hand polishing methods using stones or bones are preferred. Perhaps most important of all to these traditionalists is that the pottery be fired outdoors with wood, bark or dung. The use of kilns for this purpose is looked upon as a significant break from the old ways.
Others debate the necessity of adhering to these conditions for pottery to be considered traditional. They argue that there simply aren’t adequate natural resources of wood, bark or dung for all the firings. If a potter has mastered the traditional methods, the kilns are not necessarily safer. If one has orders to complete and the weather is not suitable for firing outdoors, the use of a kiln is understandable. Some say it is enough if the potter thoroughly knows the traditional way of firing, and is honest with the buyer as to which method he or she is using.
Others believe such limitations restrict creativity and ingenuity. They argue that experimentation with method, material and markings inevitably creates improvement. The debate at a recent meeting of 
Mata Ortiz traders was lively. Surely, as with the changes in Pueblo pottery, the discussion will continue.
For potters like the Villalba family of Barrio Porvenir (Juan Carlos Villalba was the surprise winner of the grand prize at last year’s Mata Ortiz Concurso), Manuel Olivas of Casas Grandes (recently deceased) and yes, Julian Hernandez of Nuevo Casas Grandes, the debate is irrelevant. Inspired by the cherished designs of the old ones, they paint the eyes of God on the walls of their beloved pottery to watch that all is done in the old way: with tradition and tranquility. Hold their pots in your hands and carefully listen. You can almost hear the song.