AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
I come from long ago, from a magnificent and great empire, from a cast of sorcerers, holy men, and the masters of the sun. This is my heritage: my grandfather Domingo Mamani, jilakata(1) of Tihuanacu and creator of the Altiplano(2) Jaguar's dance -today Quena Quena-; my grandmother Juana Mamani Mamani, a visionary soul of the aymaran world, well knowing woman of the coca leaf spirit and matriarch of the Mamani Mamani lineage. My father Angel Mamani, indefatigable fighter and my mother Antonia Mamani, loving mama of her two children, Angélica and myself. This is me, Mamani Mamani... aymara.
BIRTH IN COCHAPAMPA: LAND OF THE QUECHUAS
I am the fruit of a forbidden love. My father Angel Mamani, original from Puerto Acosta, panaca(3) of the Sacred Lake(4), a dashing fellow with a great sense of joy, fell in love of a beautiful aymaran princess, Antonia Mamani from the panaca of Tiahuanacu. Being not accepted their union, they ran away to Cochapampa-land of the quechuas- to save their precious love, from witch Angélica and Roberto Mamani Mamani would be born. I spent my childhood at the beautiful prairies of Kala Kala, beside the Rocha River. It is at this period that my first paintings appear. Hanged from a tree I used to watch my father while he laboured very hard at the fields, growing up fucshia colour locotos(5) same as the region's maidens polleras(6), turquoise coloured like the sunset in Tunari; red tomatoes like the sun and yellow opuntias as gold. My mother... with her long braided black hair that fell by her brunette shoulders and my dad paid the price for running off with her from their parents with his daily effort under the hot sun. The peacefulness in the air and the washing of the cloth in the crystal waters of the Rocha River, full of fish, those were the happiest things in those days.
(2) Tableland region of South America where the most important pre-Columbian civilizations were established.
(3) An important aymaran family.
(4) The Titicaca lake.
(5) Spicy andean peppers.
(6) A typical Bolivian women's skirt.
ABOUT MY HERITAGE, ABOUT MY FOREFATHERS
I keep the most marvellous memories about the Rocha River. My family and I were the only aymaras in the place. We used to wear our dancer's costumes for the festivity of the Señor of San Joaquín (our god's former holiday). Maybe it was such a surprise for the quechua community about our way of life that everybody commented about us, we used to provoke such a commotion between them. My mother's wardrobe consisted in a yellow blouse sewed with golden strings, a breast strap in the shape of a heart; all kind of objects hanged by, some of them were golden divinities. Combined with a purple pollera -a typical aymara's colour- and many, many rings on her fingers, about thirty in each hand. My father's suit was kind of austere, like an amauta's(7) one; a lilac ruffled shirt with a golden sun hitched; yellowish pants and a silver cane with rainbow coloured wool in his hand, imagine the tremendous wonderment of the people! There was a real party going on that week among music, chicha(8) and games. That was my happiness.
TIAHUANACU: AN EMPIRE IN THE ANDES, LAND OF THE AYMARAS
The time went by. So did my playing with dirt, stones, clay and painting with my father's stove ashes at my grandpa's. The separation between us with the family was a really hard time. There it was, my reunion with my predecessors, with the empire, with the ruins, the mountains, the sun. The rituals in honour of Pachamama(9): my grandfathers used to call me the "corn eater" (because aymaras eat many chuño(10)). The many conversations I had with my grandma Juana Mamani were a really big deal, she told me that we are all one same thing in diversity: man, spirit, God and nature, with ajayus(12) and anchanchos(13), in different levels of the square cross or the black chacana(14), the flash symbol and the thunder, the union of the sky and the earth; the energy of the apus or sacred mountains, like the Tata(15) Illimani(16) or the Mallku(17) Huayna Potosí(18), the Jacha(19) Illampu(20), the Sacred Lake and the incommensurable Altiplano; the festivity of the solstices, the seeding and the harvest that are read in the universe, the coca leaf spirit, secret of the old aymaras; the festivity of the coming of the dead, "All Saints". This is what I am, quechua in cradle and aymara in blood.
(8) An alcoholic beverage made from Andean corn.
(9) Sacred name of mother earth.
(10) A processed potato specie.
(12) Spirit or soul.
(13) Bad spirits.
(14) The sacred Aymaran square cross.
(15) Father.
(16) A Bolivian mountain.
(17) Condor.
(18) Another Bolivian mountain.
(19) Big.
(20) Another Bolivian Mountain. In Aymaran mythology, Illampu and Illimani are brothers.
IN CHUQUIAGO: FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT AND COLOR
I leave Tiahuanacu to finish my high school studies, the family's first member. I enter the George Ruma night school. Later I would study agronomy and laws at the Universidad Mayor de San Andrés of La Paz. My family moved to Chuquiago Marca(21) (the city of the Illimani) searching for new horizons. It is then when my endless quest for painting and drawing starts by penetrating the darkness in misery by being part of it; the villa's poverty, the misery where I lived, the anticucheras(22), the shoe polishers, the harlots neighbourhoods with its red light bulbs. At that time my art was obscure like night, that is how life is. The first series are born: "Nocturne Butterflies", "Anticucheras in the street", "Nudes on newspaper", "M'hamas(23) of the dead" and "The strikes in life and state".
The shouting in college: "Long live Marx, Lenin, Trotsky and El Che!"; and me, with my world of anguish and necessities in a swift fugacious life, an economy of debt, endless coup d'états and my occidental education. The exploitation of men by men and my struggle for my identity and my culture; our culture, our roots, ancestors, the wisdom of the amautas and the rituals. Then the colour emerges in me to keep away the bad spirits and to not stay in darkness. The energy of the Andes, of Tata Sun and Mother Moon and the sacred Pachamama, the coca leaf arises in all my being, being of hope. Mamani Mamani turns into colour through light. Up to that time I paint "Towns with suns", "The holy day of the Yawar(24)", "M'hamas Cholas(25) and W'awas(26)", "Moon Imilla(27) and Sun Llockalla(28)", "Illimani Mamani", "Mallkus Condors Qarwas(29) Llamas". This is my work of art.
MAMANI MAMANI
For my daughter Maya Mamani,
my sons Illimani Mamani
and Illampu Mamani.
("The golden river place")
(22) Women that cook a traditional meal in La Paz.
(23) Mothers.
(24) Blood.
(25) Indian women in the cities.
(26) Children.
(27) Aymaran girl.
(28) Aymaran boy.
(29) Llama.