As We Celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month
As we celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month, I find myself reflecting on a thought that has been with me for a long time—one that comes from my own lived experiences and observations. This is simply my perspective, my feelings, and my understanding of something that I believe needs to be said.
Latin artists have made profound contributions to global culture, yet too often their work is sidelined, tokenized, or reduced to stereotypes. Some of this comes from the fragmented identities within the Latin world; some of it comes from institutions that tend to elevate Euro-American traditions as the cultural standard. But I believe that the very diversity that sometimes divides Latin art also holds the key to reshaping the global narrative—one that is more inclusive, expansive, and deeply human.
Fragmented Identities, Shared Strengths
The term "Latin art" cannot be boiled down to a single story. It’s a tapestry made of many threads: Indigenous, African, European, Caribbean, diasporic. Its complexity resists easy categorization. Institutions often respond by labeling it as “regional” or “other,” while promoting certain marketable stereotypes—be it folklore, color, or political struggle. Yet, this diversity is also a source of strength, a reminder that unity doesn’t mean uniformity; it means solidarity in our differences.
But if I may be honest, one of the challenges I’ve noticed within the Latin community itself is the way in which we sometimes divide ourselves. “I’m from here, you’re from there.” The pride in our origins, our countries, and our regions is natural, but at times it becomes a source of division. The world may see us as one—Latinos and Latinas with shared histories of struggle, resilience, and transformation—but too often we fail to see that in our fragmented identities, we weaken our collective power. If we could set aside those divisions, if we could embrace each other with the respect and solidarity we deserve, our collective strength would be immeasurable.
And perhaps the most important thing I’ve come to realize is that the art itself should be seen for what it is. Not through the lens of who made it or what culture it represents, but simply for its value as art. It should be judged for its message, its beauty, its innovation, and the emotion it evokes—nothing more, nothing less. It deserves that respect.
History Rewritten, Voices Overlooked
Latin artists have always been central to modern art. From the Mexican muralists and Brazilian modernists to Venezuelan kinetic innovators and surrealist visionaries like Roberto Matta, they’ve redefined the relationship between art, politics, space, and imagination. Artists like Rufino Tamayo and Gerardo Chávez blended Indigenous memory with European modernism, creating something both new and universally resonant.
Yet, despite these contributions, many Latin artists remain invisible— “re-known unknowns”: muralists in Puerto Rico, printmakers in El Salvador, sculptors in the Andes, digital artists in the diaspora. Their exclusion isn’t due to lack of talent, but to lack of access and recognition
Gatekeeping and New Pathways
Traditional art spaces—auction houses, museums, biennials—decide which artists get to tell their stories on a global stage. Often, Latin art is branded as exotic or politically convenient, which risks overshadowing the true innovation behind it. The pressure to perform an identity rather than express oneself freely can stifle creativity. However, in recent years, there has been a shift. Independent galleries, artist-led initiatives, and digital platforms are beginning to connect Latin artists across borders, bypassing the old gatekeepers and creating new pathways to visibility.
Toward a Shared Narrative
I believe that the challenge of fragmentation is also an opportunity—a chance to rethink how we view Latin identity and Latin art. Born from hybridity, resilience, and reinvention, Latin identity can offer a model of unity across difference. This unity doesn’t require sameness; it requires respect for each other’s unique stories and experiences. Curators, critics, and institutions must move beyond tokenism and place Latin contributions not at the margins but at the heart of global art history.
Yet we, too, as artists and as individuals, must be willing to move beyond seeing one another through the narrow lens of ethnicity or national origin. Art, in its purest form, is about expression and connection—it should not be defined by the background of its creator. It should be celebrated for what it is: a reflection of the universal human experience. The digital era offers artists the freedom to share their stories directly with the world, bypassing traditional barriers and elevating the art for what it brings to the conversation, not the label attached to it.
Conclusion: Repainting the Global Canvas
Latin art, in all its forms, is not about fitting into someone else’s narrative—it is about transforming the narrative itself. When we recognize the fullness of Latin creativity, we see that no culture is peripheral, and no voice is expendable. It’s time for all of us to step back and see Latin art for what it truly is—an essential part of the global cultural landscape.
This is a deeply personal belief. On November 10, 2004, I was honored at BMCC in NYC as curator and director of the Henry Gregg Gallery in DUMBO with the plaque El Hombre Latino De Hoy. I spoke then of unity, inheritance, and the responsibility of artists to imagine a collective future. What was once imposed through conquest—the legacy of Spanish blood—has been reshaped by Latin artists into a palette of resistance, transformation, and hope.
