Homewood’s first Dia de los Muertos festival on Saturday, Oct. 16, in Martin Square had special meaning for the White family of Homewood.
Eric and Monica, with their children Emilia and Matilda, keep Dia de los Muertos traditions alive in their home. Monica’s father, originally from Mexico, has been a U.S. citizen for 50 years.
As they posed for a photo in front of a mural, Monica said it meant a lot to her that her community was joining together to celebrate the holiday.
“I think it’s beautiful,” she said. “Latino culture is everywhere, but this makes me really feel heard.”
What she cherishes about Dia de los Muertos is the way it keeps the memory of loved ones alive. “It connects us with our ancestors,” she said. “They create who we are.”
Many people in the crowd that filled the square appeared to be familiar with the Mexican traditions associated with the day. They showed up with skull-themed makeup or headdresses associated with La Catrina, a woman skeleton figure possibly associated with an Aztec goddess of death but popularized in modern times by satirical artist José Guadalupe Posada, according to one
Day of the Dead website.
A few men, including Eric White, came dressed as La Catrina’s male counterpart, El Catrin, decked out in skull makeup, tails and top hat.
Others, though, seemed to be getting their first taste of the tradition, and that was another thing the Whites appreciated.
“That’s the best part, the education,” Eric said.
The credit for introducing the tradition to the Homewood-Flossmoor community goes to local artist Xicantl, aka Gloria Contreras, who suggested the festival to village officials.
She grew up in the Chicago neighborhood of Little Village, and learned the traditions of the feast during visits to her grandmother in Mexico.
Both Xicantl and Monica White wanted to make sure people know that Dia de los Muertos is not connected to Halloween, in spite of superficial similarities. The skeleton imagery and proximity on the calendar are where the similarities end, they said.
Dia de los Muertos is not intended to be scary. It’s a joyful day, Xicantl said. It’s an opportunity to share stories, to invite lost loved ones home for a day of memories and celebration of their lives.
“It’s nice to remember people in a happy way. These are the people you know. These are the people who hung out with your kids, who tucked you into bed. These are the people who made you laugh, made you cry,” Xicantl said. “These are the people who shaped who you are.”
To help bring those memories alive, people create an “ofrenda,” a small altar that includes photos, candles and the favorite items of the loved ones invited to visit.
At Homewood’s festival, Xicantl created a large ofrenda and invited the community to help decorate it with photocopies of photos.
The square was adorned with her papier-mâché artwork, including two trees of life, a La Catrina and a big butterfly.
Visitors were impressed with the display.
“I think it’s awesome, and I’ve only gotten a half a block,” Cary Brooks of Homewood said.
Her daughter, Jeanne Barclay of Evanston, agreed. “The artwork is incredible, the attention to detail,” she said.
They were at the festival with Jeanne’s husband, Matt, and their two children, Fiona and Tadhg.
Xicantl said the COVID-19 pandemic actually provided a boost to her art career, giving her time to hone her skills and produce ambitious pieces, including the giant tree of life on display in the middle of Martin Square.
She credits her uncle, Manuel Contreras, for providing support and assistance for her work.
For the first part of the festival, people admired the artwork while kids decorated their own skull masks or got their faces painted in skull themes.
At dusk, Xicantl and her entourage arrived dressed in full La Catrina glory. After welcoming the crowd to the celebration, she made way for the traditional dancers in colorful costumes, several holding large skeleton creations.
Soon, members of the community were invited to join in, and Martin Square quickly filled with dancers of all ages bobbing to the music and throbbing drumbeat.
The skeleton images and the dance exemplified another aspect of Dia de los Muertos that Xicantl said is a draw for her: shared humanity.
“At the end of the day, Black, white, Asian, Mexican, we are all skeletons underneath,” she said. “You can’t tell which one is which.”
After the dance concluded, guests watched the animated film, “Coco,” which incorporates Dia de los Muertos traditions in the story.
Village officials said they plan to make the festival an annual event.
Photos by Eric Crump/H-F Chronicle.