I’M ADMIRING A PINT-SIZED mojiganga, a papier-mâché replica of myself – graying hair, hazel eyes, green-framed glasses – and dabbing the final touches of midnight blue on my doppelgänger’s tiny tunic. Behind me, a colossal pair of these folkloric figures loom, gazing down, warm smiles quite literally plastered on their joy-filled faces.
A pint-sized mojiganga, a papier-mâché replica of the author.
I find myself in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, attending a mojigangas workshop in the open-air Artist’s Corner inside the fortress-style Casa Parque, one of six historic 17th- and 18th-century heritage mansions that make up the serene luxury Belmond property Casa de Sierra Nevada. Paint containers in a rainbow of shades line the table; in one hand, I hold my dripping paintbrush, in the other, a spicy, smoky mezcal margarita.
San Miguel Arcángel cathedral, San Miguel de Allende
My creative guru, local resident artist Hermes Arroyo, shares his experiences bringing to life these traditional Mexican folk-art sculptures. They play a central role in religious celebrations as well as parades, parties and wedding festivities in this spirited Spanish-colonial town in the highlands of Guanajuato, a nearly four-hour drive northwest of Mexico City. “People aren’t just here to paint,” Arroyo emphasises of his relaxing mojigangas workshops. Instead, he explains, his intention is to help newbies personalise the figures “to create this feeling that anyone on the street can be turned into a piece of art.”
Artist Hermes Arroyo
Arroyo began learning the magic behind making mojigangas more than three decades ago, the third generation in his family to do so (his mother passed on the art, which she learned from her father, to him). Hailed as the foremost mojigangas expert in the region, if not all Mexico, he shares his love of the craft with Casa de Sierra Nevada guests, including Meryl Streep, who eagerly participated in the roughly two-hour process to produce a miniature version of herself.
While the mojigangas of Arroyo’s childhood often wore more serious expressions, he gives his own creations a twist by infusing them with more radiant countenances to symbolise the lighter side of life. According to Arroyo, his aim is to depict locals and those who inspire many of his mojigangas in a humorous, large-scale way that doesn’t descend into mocking caricature.
At Casa de Sierra Nevada, Arroyo’s mojigangas are everywhere. Upon entering Casa Principal, a tiny Diego Rivera, dressed in a paint-soaked smock, gazes up from his perch inside a cloche. A small but mighty version of the masked Mexican wrestler El Santo seemingly growls from under glass in a corridor leading to the azure pool and lush gardens inside the Casa Palma courtyard.
Artist Hermes Arroyo in the studio
In fact, a mini-mojiganga adorns each of the property’s 37 rooms and suites, adding a whimsical local touch to spaces that already include plenty of nods to art and history, whether through regional antiques or, in the case of room 484 in Casa Fuente, a one-of- a-kind bathroom door containing panels painted with the faces of martyrs and saints. As mojigangas adorn every corner of Casa de Sierra Nevada, they also playfully populate the cobblestone streets of San Miguel.
Stepping outside the heavy wooden doors of the hotel, guests might find frolicking mojigangas twice their height. I spotted one towering papier-mâché pair merrily bobbing around, animated by people hidden inside their oversized frocks. Their dramatic backdrop: the double pink spires of the neo- Gothic cathedral Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel, which lords over the central plaza, El Jardín.
Casa de Sierra Nevada
This lightheartedness can be felt throughout San Miguel de Allende, contributing to its designation in 2008 as a UNESCO World Heritage site. The toy museum La Esquina is a sanctuary for fun and a masterclass in the history of Mexican toys, which are spread throughout its maze of small rooms. Among the treasures, in one corner stands an ornate candy-coloured carousel carved from wood, while in another, a diorama featuring papier-mâché skeletons paddling tiny turquoise canoes through deep- blue cardboard waves.
The theme of skeletons is common here in San Miguel. They also take shape in the artful Catrinas that grace the city’s many shops and galleries that are tucked inside colonnaded buildings bathed in shades of burnt red, pink, yellow, orange and terracotta. Ranging from fanciful to frightening, these spindly tabletop female skeletal sculptures are often dressed in elegant and intricate fashions, such as a shawl covered in a kaleidoscope of butterflies. One shopkeeper shows me illustrations on her phone of the very first Catrinas dreamed up by the Mexican artist and printmaker José Guadalupe Posada in the early 20th-century, noting they have since become an iconic symbol of the Day of the Dead.
Captivated by the cultural riches of San Miguel de Allende, my final night here is capped off at the rooftop bar Tunki by Handshake. Sipping a martini made with passionfruit, pineapple and vanilla, I watch the sun slide down the sky and light up the nearby cathedral in brilliant pink reminiscent of the vibrant hues of the intricate Catrinas.
Reflecting on how crafting a mojiganga at the magical Casa de Sierra Nevada helped me tap into the artistic side of my soul, I toast this playful town that’s deservedly earned a special place in my heart. belmond.com/hotels
