Anonymous (Mexican School, 18th century)

By the sixteenth century, Spain had amassed a vast empire that extended in regions across Europe and overseas, throughout the Americas, and as far as Asia. Opportunely situated enroute between Manila and Madrid, the viceroyalties of Nueva España and Peru welcomed a great abundance of materials and riches to their growing economy. From the Far East, silks and spices, jade and gold, Persian rugs and Chinese linens. From the west, an influx of inhabitants—missionaries, conquistador generals, and slaves—and with them, a wealth of cultural and religious traditions as well as European paintings, prints and sculptures. Rich in raw materials such as silver, cacao, and indigo, Nueva España quickly became one of the principle sources of revenue for the Spanish crown. By the 18th century, lavish displays of wealth and ostentation were commonplace among the nouveau-riche. The local Mexican elite spared no expense to decorate their homes and accessorize their daily lives to confirm and solidify their social status. They commissioned artworks for personal consumption and contemplation that reflected their new reality. Along with devotional themes, wealthy patrons commissioned portraits as well as scenes of everyday life. Such is the subject of the present pair of paintings, both of which recall seventeenth century Dutch genre scenes, depicting the leisurely pursuits or bacchanals of the well-to-do (but also badly behaved) elite. In one scene, we view an outdoor gathering where stately men mingle about, drinking wine and dining on the finest meats and fruits the new world has to offer. In the second scene, men gather, perhaps bellies full after the feast, but nonetheless, wine still flowing, to gamble away their new fortunes.
Just as the conquest of the Americas was a “divinely-ordained mission,” religion and moralizing messages or warnings against folly and vice were ever-present in new world, woven into the fabric of everyday life and visual culture. As 17th century politician and Bishop of Puebla, Juan de Palafox y Mendoza notes, “jurar y jugar, no se diferencian sino en una letra en la palabra”1 or put another way, gambling is the Devil’s work. Indeed, the present work perfectly illustrates the moral dangers long associated with gambling in which quarrels, theft and fraud were commonplace. Perhaps then, the present works can be considered as not-so-subtle reminders of how easily decadence can lead to sin.