Made in Mexico is a harsh reality

Teresa Margolles has gained recognition within the art community for her use of shocking, often violent, installation pieces that depict the misery and destruction of modern life in her native country, Mexico. The work of this artist often deals explicitly with death and, more specifically, with those whose lives were lost as a result of the drug war.

Margolles bombards her viewers with intensely symbolic and emotionally charged messages by using arresting devices such as body parts, morgue equipment (sometimes "clandestinely" obtained), and illegal drugs in her work. In one of her exhibits, Margolles used laminated photos of those who died in the drug war to cut cocaine -- in cocaine bought using a $5,000 government grant.

Given Margolles' painfully blunt and candid method of handling the subject matter of death, it may sound as though she does not respect the sanctity of the dead. However, the truth is not that simple. When asked if she believes in life after death, Margolles replies that she hopes there isn't, because "it would be a really frightening thing." She would allow her own body to be used for art only if she were assassinated as only then would her death say anything significant about life and violence. She doesn't believe her pieces are disrespectful, because "when you die, your body doesn't matter to you anymore."

Margolles's often morose works aim to remind people of the universality of death and violence. For one piece, she dug up a 36-meter section of sidewalk for one day and invited people to toss in any small, otherwise meaningless tokens or mementos that belonged to their deceased loved ones. She then resealed the sidewalk, preserving their memories beneath a layer of pavement. Margolles pointed out that although much can be learnt about people through their possessions, everyone loses their identity once they die.

Contemporary social problems in Mexico often lend inspiration to Margolles' work. In a country where burial sites are expensive, one of Margolles' friends who could not afford a grave for her miscarried child gave Margolles the child and asked her to "do something with it." In response to her friend's grief, Margolles created a "portable casket" and interred the body of the child in a block of cement. Since the body is completely indistinguishable as any specific child, the piece signifies the commonness of the particular experience of pain and frustration in losing a child.

Margolles often seems eerily disconnected from the gruesomeness of her pieces and is able to talks candidly about her work. In one contentious piece, she made a deal with a mother to pay the burial costs for a 17-year-old boy who had been killed if she could keep a body part. She ended up with his tongue, which she displayed in shows. She admits that she had really wanted to ask for his penis but realized that request probably would not have been granted.

Anyone going to see an exhibit of Margolles's work can expect to be confronted with and challenged by the undisguised reality of the results of violence. Perhaps she could make her point in a less abrasive way, but would she still be able to force you admit to yourself the ugly realities of life and death? Margolles herself puts it best: "After this, what can you really say about art? Anything after this is just entertainment."