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  • Between the Chac Mool and the Chalice: An Art Exhibit at DePaul University
  • Eric J. Garcia (bio)

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Eric J. Garcia, Evil Trinity of a Chicano, acrylic on wood, 4′ × 4′, 2003

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In January of 2012, I had a solo exhibit at the Center for Intercultural Programs at DePaul University (activities office of the Student Center). The result became an interesting experience of introspection. When the Center’s Program Development Coordinator, Stefanie Smith, first approached me with the opportunity of exhibiting my artwork, she gave me a theme to work with: “Reflection.” At first I thought it would be easy enough, since a lot of my work already deals with reflections of identity, but it wasn’t until I visited the DePaul campus (for the first time) that I began to reflect on my own Catholic religious upbringing. I noticed the St. Vincent DePaul Church in the middle of campus, the tall bronze statue of Monsignor Egan at the entrance to the Student Center building, and inside, a chapel, all of which tipped me off that I was in the ambience of a Catholic school. Then and there I began reflecting on my artwork and realized I would be putting together an exhibit dealing with my own religious influences; a presentation that would visually depict my own personal reflections on religion and how they have shaped my beliefs and identity. I would come to realize how much religion, and specifically my Catholic upbringing, had influenced my art. The exhibit became an attempt to showcase work that exposes not just my religious beliefs but also my cultural and political beliefs.

I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, to a Catholic family. The church was imbedded in my parents’ spiritual and social lives. Since they were children, my parents have been active participants in the local church. As adults, both my parents were lectors who assisted the priests during Mass, but also were involved in other social groups offered by the church community. I was taken to all of these events: Mass on Sundays, Christmas and Easter, weddings, baptisms and funerals. The Catholic Church was completely intertwined in the Mexican-American/Hispano/Chicano culture in which I grew up. For me, there was no escaping the Catholic religion. For New Mexicans, even if you weren’t religious and didn’t go to Mass, there was always some saint staring at you from the dashboard of the family car or glaring down at you while you ate at grandma’s house. The culture I was brought up in totally revolved around the Catholic beliefs and practices brought from Spain to the Americas.

I was an altar boy when I was small, made my first Holy Communion when I was 10, was confirmed at 16, and active in my church’s youth group throughout my teens. Though I’m not as involved with the Catholic Church as I once was, I still consider myself a Catholic. I don’t go to Mass every Sunday like I used to but I still say my nightly prayers. I believe in God but I have conflicts with the institution of the Catholic Church, its gory past and its outdated present policies. I have become more critical of the Church over the years, but have found hope in new practices, such as the ideas of Liberation Theology, which speak more to a social justice take on the teachings of Christ. I also credit the church with introducing me to some of my first glimpses of art: from paintings to sculpture to architecture; sitting in Mass with nothing else to do for an hour but to look around, I was engulfed in art. Trying to make sense of the different scenes of Baroque allegorical paintings of tortured saints, or visually reading the Stations of the Cross as though it were a comic strip, I had lots of time in the pew, unconsciously absorbing all the visual stimulation that would begin shaping my way of making art.

I had not recognized or understood how profoundly my religious experience had affected my art until I started thinking about this exhibit. It...

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