Centered around the lullaby Dodo titit, the exhibition questions how displaced individuals maintain connections to their homeland through their relation to the territory. Tessa Mars creates surreal scenes inspired by Voodoo imaginary, including hybrid beings who represent ancestral guidance and knowledge.
Tessa Mars, Répétition générale - Rituels de novembre (Dress Rehearsal - November Rituals), acrylic on paper, variable dimensions, 2017. Photo: Erik López
Tessa Mars, Nou la ansanm (We Are Together), acrylic on canvas, 4 ft x 8 ft, 2019. Photo: Erik López
Tessa Mars, Une chanson pour une île en feu (A Song for an Island on Fire), 2024. Photo: Erik López
Tessa Mars, Pitit Ayida (Daughter of Ayida), acrylic on canvas, 150 cm x 180 cm, 2023. Photo: Deniz Güzel
In Haitian Voodoo, initiates often receive ancestral knowledge in their sleep. This process goes under the name of Nan Dòmi and is the title of the Tessa Mars’ solo exhibition at Casa Del Lago in Mexico City curated by Eva Posas.
Tessa Mars is a Haitian artist who explores the dynamics of spirituality, identity and migration in the Caribbean, deconstructing dominant Western-centric narratives about Haiti and the Caribbean. Mars is interested in the migratory experience and seeks to “locate a ‘spiritual space’ of migration based on our relationship to the land and the idea of belonging”, making us question the idea of how to inhabit the land with those who were there before us.
In her works at the exhibition with the full title Nan Dòmi: las canciones que cantamos (Nan Dòmi: the songs we sing), she links the migratory experience to spirituality, questioning notions of dreams, spirituality and migration. The exhibition is built around the Haitian lullaby Dodo titit, sung by mothers in Haiti to calm their children. Accordingly, the curator devised an intimate scenography in a space that was previously a warehouse. As you enter the dimly lit cocoon-like room, the seriality of the works leads you through a sort of ritualistic walk, while a recording of distorted voices singing the lullaby plays on a loop.
Une vision de la paix, de l'harmonie et de la bonne intelligence (A Vision of Peace, Harmony, and Good Intelligence), acrylic on canvas, 190 cm x 190 cm, 2020. Photo: Erik López
This creates an atmosphere of tenderness, while revealing a subtle tension in the space, reflected in the works on display, where bodies rooted in the earth, seem at once protected, mothered and imprisoned. In the face of these works, one wonders: is it mother earth, nourishing and protective, or the devouring earth, suffocating and absorbing, from which the characters are trying to escape? Do these roots evoke attachment to the land of origin during the migratory experience, or connection with the inhabitants who were there before us?
We feel this tension in A Song for an Island on Fire which depicts a man lying in a hollow, surrounded by three heads that emerge beside him. The apparent calm on the figure’s face contrasts with the suffocating atmosphere of the canvas, accentuated by warm, orange hues that evoke a river of fire. The figure’s raised hands, in a gesture that seems to be a prayer or a request, lead us to wonder how this apparently fragile figure can be so tranquil in this hostile, threatening environment. The painting’s title could just as easily refer to the socio-political situation in Haiti, where the turmoil of insecurity give the impression of sailing through a sea of fire. Curator Eva Posas wanted to accentuate the contrast between the supposed emotional security we find in our homeland, where our roots are, and the brutal reality of migration.
Far from being a simple personal choice, migration today is a response to the socio-political and economic pressures weighing on the countries of the Global Majority. Migrants, in search of a better life, often remain attached to their native land. The evocation of roots in Tessa’s work illustrates both the attachment and uprooting experienced by the displaced individual. The bodies that take root in the earth and the roots that wrap themselves around the characters invite us to reflect on the link between the individuals and their home. Individual travel with their spiritual baggage, which helps them traverse and recharge in these newly familiar territories. This spiritual baggage are the invisible connections that link them to their origins.
The imaginary of flora and fauna, recurrent in Tessa Mars’ work, is fueled by Voodoo. Paintings such as Pitit Ayida – Daughter of Ayida and One Shared Breath (A Name Shared), both from 2023, show hybrid beings, snake-women crawling and another figure rooting himself in the earth and resting, looking serene, as if protected by the women crawling around him. In Voodoo, Ayida Wedo is a loa represented by the serpent, who, to manifest herself, rides his followers by making them crawl. These female figures may symbolize the ancestors’ guidance and knowledge.
By interrogating migration through a spiritual and identity-based approach, Tessa Mars asks the question: how do we inhabit the earth with those who were there before us? Her work, rooted in Haitian culture, takes on a universal dimension by addressing themes such as belonging, identity and collective memory. Through an aesthetic inspired by Voodoo and the Caribbean imaginary, Mars makes us reflect on our attachment to the land, the preservation of ancestral ties and the spiritual force that sustains individuals in their migratory experience.
Tessa Mars, Nan Dòmi: las canciones que cantamos was at Casa del Lago UNAM, Mexico City, Mexico, until 17 November 2024.
Ervenshy Hugo Jean Louis is an art writer and studies art history and archaeology at the State University of Haiti. He is a former participant of a C& Critical Writing Workshop that was hosted in collaboration with the CCI.