62 MARCH 2016
Atlas is a rotating series of columns by writers from
Dallas, Moscow and Lima.ATLAS
external forces demand them, much in the same way that the
logo represents a romanticized view of indigenous Peru. At the
same time, for many artisans selling their crafts in the Mercado
Indio, the logo represents their country’s progress. As Soto Cano,
who at age 77 has worked in the market for 45 years, explained to
me: “It makes me proud that foreigners from the United States
take with them the Marca Perú.”WHEN YOU TRAVEL by microbus eastward to the working-
class district of Ate, the landscape is markedly different. Skyscrap-
ers give way to illicitly constructed houses with their second or
third floors often left unfinished. And if neutralized sans serif
corporate logos are plentiful in Miraflores and San Isidro, here
roads are lined with brilliantly hued silkscreened signs in boisterous
fonts announcing local concerts.
This street-art style, characterized in part by neon-colored
bubble letters occasionally punctuated by stylized calligraphy,
is called chicha. The term comes from Peru’s particular kind of
Andean-influenced cumbia, a dance music also known as chicha,
which in turn derives its name fromchicha morada, a typical sweet
beverage made of purple corn. More generally, the term “chicha”
reflects an underlying attitude: the fusion of indigenous groups
from the Andes with the mestizos of the urban working class.
Both the chicha musical style and the lettering style originated in
the highlands of Peru but later thrived in the outskirts of Lima as
economic and political hardship spurred migration to the capital.
The posters’ fluorescent colors reflect the pulsing beat of the musi-
cal genre and the chromatic spectrum found in Andean textiles.
Chicha—the music and the art—was initially disparaged by the
elite, but both became symbols of identity for migrants. As chicha
posters became more popular among the working class, a handful
of artists opened large print shops to meet the demand from clients.
Elliot Tupac made his name designing concert posters—his graphic
work has perhaps earned more renown than the concerts themselves.
The style spread to other art forms, from neighborhood murals to
silkscreens on cloth proclaiming defiant statements like, “Tu envidia
es mi progreso” (“Your envy is my progress”).In recent years, the visual form’s popularity has extended
beyond its roots. Chicha design has achieved global recognition as
a cherished folk art. This past summer, the Smithsonian Folklife
Festival featured workshops with one of the pioneers of chicha,
Pedro “Monky” Tolomeo, who told me that museums in Brooklyn
and Boston have offered to fly him out as well. Elliot Tupac has
run printmaking workshops in Argentina and the U.K..
Chicha has also seeped into other parts of Lima, from the
affluent to the hip (and those that are both). Chicha calligraphy
embellishes menus at cocktail bars; the design firm where I worked
had a mural by Monky in its stairwell; Dengue Dengue Dengue!,
a Lima-based musical duo that spins Amazon-inspired electronic
tracks, uses chicha lettering on its show posters; the bank BBVA
Continental enlisted Elliot Tupac for an ad campaign. Chicha’s
current dominance may be, in part, aesthetic: with its neon hues,
hand lettering and bold gradients, it surprisingly has many points
of intersection with graphic design trends today.
Just south of Miraflores, Barranco is a divided district: the
affluent half that borders the Pacific Ocean is what all guide-
books proclaim as the “bohemian” enclave of the city, dotted
with bars and historic homes and boasting a stunning central
plaza. Boutiques in the area carry tote bags, note cards and books
adorned with elements of chicha style, but marked-up for hipster
consumers. The half of the neighborhood on the other side of the
Metropolitano tracks is working-class and the well-to-do wouldn’t
dare enter; chicha lettering is visible mostly on posters affixed
to walls. Still, the neighborhood-wide, and perhaps Lima-wide,
embrace of chicha might be a sign that divisions are dissolving. An
art form that arose from the proletariat and has come to represent
the entire country, it is an authentic craft for the modern age.- “ihateharabara,” Nov. 2, 2012, tipo-graica-mente.blogspot.com
Chicha-style
painting by
Monky, 2015.
Courtesy Desi
Gonzalez.
Monky removing
achichaposter
fromasilkscreen
tableinhis
Lima workshop.
Courtesy
Smithsonian
Center for Folklife
and Cultural
Heritage. Photo
Joshua Eli Cogan.