Sacramento art exhibit puts a SMASH!-ing spotlight on piñata culture

The history of the piñata dates back centuries with its origins shrouded in mystery — either being brought by Spanish conquistadors and missionaries to Mexico, or with roots dating back to Aztec or even ancient Chinese cultures.

These colorful, treat-filled containers have become a staple of Latino culture, and a common sight at birthday parties and other celebrations. But a new art exhibit is highlighting the piñata’s power in an unconventional setting. 

SMASH! A Piñata Exhibition opened earlier this month at Prism Art Gallery in Midtown, curated by Bridgett Rex and Vianne De Santiago. The exhibition runs through May 30 and will close with a smashing of selected piñatas.

SMASH! brings together amateurs, professional piñata makers, and artists from across disciplines, and invites the audience to look beneath the tissue paper and papier-mache.

“I see piñatas as vessels of joy, grief, [they] can hold anything you want it to,” Rex explained, adding that she and her co-curator wanted the show to be accessible to anyone, regardless of age.

“I want people to look at piñatas when they go to the store as something actually precious and beautiful,” Rex said.

SMASH! is De Santiago’s first curation after graduating college. She recalled getting artists to participate in the display. 

“They would be like, ‘oh, I don’t really know what to make,” De Santiago said. “ And I would try to tell them it’s something that’s beautiful, but also with the purpose of being destroyed.”

Many of the artists attended the May 8 opening celebration, and spoke with CapRadio about their designs and inspirations.

Andres Alvarez: “In ixtli, in yollotl”

Andres Alvarez had never heard of a piñata exhibition before, much less participated in one. “I’m a painter and photographer, not a sculptor,” he said.

His piñata,“In ixtli, in yollotl” (the face, the heart), showcases a stack of books resting against one another. All are covered in hojas de maiz (corn husks), used for tamales. Alvarez said using husks dates back to a barrio art class he took, where he was introduced to using nontraditional materials.

“It’s sort of wrapped in culture… very symbolic of the culture as far as food, but also in terms of practice, engagement, connection with family, conversations in the kitchen,” Alvarez said.

The design pays homage to the books by Latino and Chicano authors that inspired him. “The idea of anthologies, of histories and storytelling, storymaking, memories, that took over and became the books that I wanted to explore,” Alvarez said.

Alvarez was fascinated to see artists weaving together traditional and new elements, particularly materials found around the home. “We can explore piñatas in a whole different way,” he said.

Gilbert Rangel

Gilbert Rangel said his daughter, Bridgett, asked him to submit a piñata for the exhibit — the first one he ever made. What emerged was a stove clad in dark and lime green tissue paper, a silver grate, and a small pan holding a tortilla. 

Rangel’s design was inspired by memories of his mother and other women that supported him. “In Mexican culture, cooking is very important,” he explained, reminiscing about a childhood visit to his aunt’s house. 

“Even though she had a bunch of kids… she would make stacks and stacks of tortillas while we played marbles in her kitchen,” Rangel recalled. “Someone nurturing you, in every possible way.”

Rangel said the diversity of piñatas — and knowing many will be destroyed — represented the colorfulness of Mexican culture, and how to think about life. “You just get that day; it has to be great and that's all that counts… it doesn’t last,” he said. 

His stove will go the same way. “It’s what it’s meant to do; it’s going to serve a purpose,” Rangel mused.

Mat Cusick: “Space Cowboy”

Mat Cusick never made a piñata before, but said art was always part of his upbringing. “I was raised by a ceramics teacher… I used to go to Second Saturday with my mom and I would just walk around all the galleries,” he said.

His piñata features Jeff Bezos, dressed in a flight suit made of Amazon packing tape, holding a cowboy hat and riding a rocket. Cusick said it was inspired by the movie Dr. Strangelove, along with Bezos’ 2021 spaceflight as Amazon workers were unionizing. 

“He flew up, came back down and said, ‘I want to thank the Amazon workers because you guys paid for all of this,’” he explained. “We didn’t like that very much.” 

Cusick’s work was not originally intended for the exhibit, but he was glad to see the piñata in the gallery among many different forms of personal and cultural expression.

“What if we had something symbolically [where] you could confront the boss, wield your strength and take them down,” Cusick said. “It is an art form that has a really deep tradition, and I think it’s amazing to see all the things that you can do with it.” 

Isamar Yanalté Quiroz: “Miss You: Esperame en el cielo, corazon”

Isamar Yanalté Quiroz’s piñata includes black and white cones, covered with ribbons and dark lace, clustered around a small altar. She said the design took inspiration from her work in a morgue, and from her own life experiences. 

“A lot of influence [came] from my own grief journey, and how I lost my sister and a lot of dear friends close to my heart,” Yanalté Quiroz explained. Her design is meant to capture the opposing feelings of joy and mourning.

Yanalté Quiroz made piñatas with her father, but mainly started after her sister died during the pandemic. They are her main art form, serving as an outlet for the heaviness of different emotions.

Yanalté Quiroz said the gallery felt like a community, and gave her a sense of pride. “I love seeing how everybody uses this art to process their own feelings,” she said. “I see so many journeys and lives people have walked, just looking at these piñatas.”

Yanalté Quiroz is not sure what her piñata’s fate will be. But if it is smashed the act will be in private, with her family.

Andrea Lizalde-Valencia: “Quedito”

Andrea Lizalde-Valencia’s piñata follows the traditional seven-cone shape introduced by Spanish colonists. “The priests were trying to convert people and they had piñatas,” she explained. “The seven cones were supposed to be the seven deadly sins, and then people beat them.”

But the material is anything but standard, featuring stuffed fabric and a crying face made of oven-baked clay. Each cone represents aspects of Lizalde-Valencia’s life — her children’s handprints and drawings, the punk-rock aesthetic of her younger self, cyanotype fabric made by her sister.

She said the piñata’s name, and the crying face, came from the phrase “pégame poquito, pégame quedito” (hit me only a little bit, hit me softly.)  “Imagine someone getting hit, or a piñata getting hit, there’s always this discomfort of waiting for the hit to come, and then you’re bracing for it,” Lizalde-Valencia explained.

Looking at the other piñatas in the exhibition, Lizalde-Valencia said while she does not know all the other artists personally, she feels a sense of cariño (fondness) for all of them. “I love you guys; I don’t know you, but your art is awesome and I’m just really excited,” she said.

Serena Madrigal: “Piñata de Pastel” and “Piñata de Duvalin”

Serena “Espinas” Madrigal submitted two piñatas for the exhibit. “Piñata de Pastel” (Pinata made of cake) is a group of lacy white cones wrapped in red ribbons, resembling frosting. ”I did it super white with hints of red just to make it feel really dramatic, almost like you want to take a bite of it,” Madrigal explained.

The second – a hanging star colored brown, cream and pink — is “Piñata de Duvalin,” named after a type of Mexican candy. Madrigal said she draws inspiration from different colors and tones. 

“Sometimes when I think of colors together, I retrace it back to memories or objects I love,” she said, noting how duvalin was her favorite candy growing up.

Madrigal made piñatas as a child, and for her wedding three years ago. “That’s the first time I experimented with lace and tissue paper, and since then I just kept getting inspired,” she said.

Madrigal was glad to see how the piñata has been reimagined as an art form. “It’s something that you can have forever; you don’t have to break it [or] destroy it, you can just have it as a memory,” she said.

Iris Hernandez

Iris Hernandez’s mother Lorena Raya started making piñatas in Mexico, and continued the tradition after coming to the U.S. “It just started from having to have some sort of income while she babysat my daughter while I went to work,” Hernandez explained.

Raya and Hernandez now run a custom piñata business, Piñatasaurus. Their design — a dark brown vase filled with colorful flowers and small items — reflects their shared journey.

Hernandez said a broom and mop, “represents when we first got to the U.S., we used to clean offices and wealthy homes for a living as a family — my mom, dad, brother and I.” After the Great Recession, Hernandez’s family sold tamales and donuts, also represented in miniature. 

The vase’s markings include a Celtic mother symbol, a large flower and small hummingbird for Hernandez and the opposite for Raya. “Just interconnected in life; both of us being mothers, and our relationship together,” Hernandez explained.

She saw a common theme in the other artists’ works as well. “I see a lot of childhood memories in every single one of these,” Hernandez said. “Something that's rooted not in adulthood, but looking back in our lives.”

Luis Garcia: “I set a federal vehicle on fire and there ain’t **** you can do about it”

Luis Garcia’s piñata stood in the center of the exhibit. A vandalized ICE vehicle, propped up on cinder blocks with flames pouring out the back windows. For the Sac State art professor, it is an expression of resistance.

“I grew up in the ‘90s in Los Angeles; I experienced Prop 187 [and] 227, and in 1992 the LA uprising because of the Rodney King case,” Garcia explained. He said those experiences helped him understand “that historic forms of racism have impacted our communities today.”

Garcia wanted to use his position to express how he felt “about our current circumstances, our communities that are under attack.” He said the piñata‘s “street aesthetics” captured his own cultural knowledge and political experience.

Unlike other piñatas, Garcia said his will not be smashed. “I think it makes a stronger impact for this piñata to be seen,” he explained. “We can smash it but then at that point, the political statement ends.”

He wants to keep the art intact to send a future message. “We can draw on our own cultural knowledge to speak up against our current political climate,” Garcia said.

Ramona Garcia: “Las niñas que llevamos dentro”

Ramona Garcia’s piñata reflected her artistic experience making Lupita dolls out of papier-mache. She said these dolls were traditional Mexican playthings, but these traditions were discontinued or lost with the introduction of newer toys.

Her piñata is a giant Lupita doll with a smaller mother and baby doll nested inside — one sitting in a chair, the other cradling a heart. She said the artwork is about “nurturing that child, but also nurturing traditions and keeping them alive.”

Its name speaks to that ideal: “Las niñas que llevamos dentro” (the children that we carry inside.) 

“The heart is supposed to represent the love for our culture and traditions,” Garcia said, pointing to one of the small figures. “I think in times like now, we need to celebrate our culture especially when there’s so much persecution.”

Garcia said the exhibit itself is a larger form of remembrance. “[It’s] not just about highlighting all the hardships that our communities are going through, but also celebrating all the beauty and the culture of them,” she said. 

Christina Marenco: “Pan dulce con amor”

Christina Marenco’s piñata is hard to miss: a multicolored van hanging from the ceiling, sporting a large pan dulce on its roof and a window full of sweet treats. The professional piñatamaker said the design draws on a childhood experience.

“A pan dulce van used to come over to our house almost every week, and we would come out as a family from the house and choose,” she explained. “Primarily my grandma would always make sure that there was pan dulce at the house, so this is mostly dedicated to her.”

Marenco said the colors of the truck reflect her “fun, whimsical” memories of that van. “It made me feel bright, colorful, glittery, all the things,” she explained. A feeling that also influenced the piece’s name: “Pan dulce con amor” (Pan dulce with love.)

Marenco said as an art form, piñatas carry strong symbolism — like the pan dulce on her childhood table. “It’s a symbol of togetherness and celebrating,” she said. “I feel like it should be more celebrated in our world.”

Disclosure: The CapRadio Insight team was also asked to submit a piñata as part of the SMASH! exhibit. Host Vicki Gonzalez said the invitation was a “full circle” moment after showcasing creatives on the program. “Bridgett went from being an Insight guest to inviting us to take part in her latest exhibit, “ she explained.

The CapRadio Insight team submitted its own piñata for the SMASH! exhibit inspired by the show’s color scheme, the Tower Bridge, and the medium of radio.Sarit Laschinsky/CapRadio

Insight spent the better part of a month exercising its “creative muscle,” with Gonzalez acknowledging that “there was some atrophy.” 

What started with a rough sketch and a roundtable conversation about capturing the spirit of Insight and the region transformed into a visual representation of the station’s flagship program — a blue-and-yellow boombox piñata, with a real mini AM/FM radio inside of it.

“[It] was a memorable bonding experience with a lot of laughs throughout the piñata-making process!” Gonzalez said.

Senior Producer Andrew Garcia and his family, whom he described as “quite crafty,” were also crucial to get the project over the line. “We had three generations of us all at the kitchen table making the frills, fluffing them up, and gluing them on,” Garcia explained. “The craftiest of us all, my aunt, put the finishing touches on the Tower Bridge piece on top that serves as the radio's 'handle.'"

Editor's note: This story has been updated with additional details, and to correct the spelling of Isamar Yanalté Quiroz's name and the name of her piñata.

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