These photos were shot over a span of little more than a week earlier this spring. One evening, in the central plaza of San Jose del Cabo, I happened upon a small group of artists preparing the stage for the community's annual Fiestas Tradicionales, a week of recitals, concerts, fireworks, carnival rides, cock fights and general revelry. In the left photo, an artist who had strapped his brush to the end of a pole that was maybe 15 feet long was sketching from a likeness held by a colleague a portrait of Emiliano Zapata Salazar, a pivotal figure in the Mexican revolution a century ago this year. The completed portrait, center, loomed over the stage throughout the fiesta's many performances, though it largely was blocked by a tower of speakers. Not long after the fiesta ended, city work crews arrived on the stage to paint over the portrait of Zapata (top right) and a similar painting of four-time Mexican president Benito Juarez on the other side of the stage. I don't know what shocked me more, the bright pink paint that was used to cover up the portraits or the attitude of city officials who so cavalierly and so abruptly dismissed the art. Though no one seemed upset about how casually the portraits were washed over, I remain mystified and curious, and would appreciate any enlightenment anyone could provide.
