BIOGRAPHY

He was born in the Mazateca Region of the State of Oaxaca in 1961 and presented his first exhibition at the Cultural Forum of Coyoacan in Mexico City in 1983.

He was born in the Mazateca Region of the State of Oaxaca in 1961 and presented his first exhibition at the Cultural Forum of Coyoacan in Mexico City in 1983. He has had more than a dozen exhibitions in Mexico and his work are a part of many private collections in both Mexico, the US and Europe.

Texto de Manuel Suasnavar P.

Genaro Castañeda is an Oaxacan painter who, in one way or another, continues with the traditional pictorial vision of a Mexican town. However, Genaro has not followed the easy, comfortable path. His attitude does not seek the avant-garde or the novel either. He does not believe that, to find his own plastic stamp, he has to resort to scandal or the use of sophisticated or any kind of modern language.

Genaro Castañeda has not joined the commercial fashions that have followed, as an army of the blind. Fame is not his drive. His artistic conduct only follows his own poetic will. His purpose, to find his own pictorial luck, is consumed every day, in the tenacity of the trade and the discipline of the peasant that Genaro imprints on the furrows of color that plow his own fief, the white canvas.

His painting comes from the countryside, from rural life. Of the color that, from its indigenous blood, circulates through its small-town reason. Nothing of it evokes the urban, everything is air and color, open space. It does not have the rhetoric of concrete and asphalt, of the neurotic speed of cities. Its peaceful atmosphere reveals the author’s serene personality and its color reflects the severe vocation of the Oaxacan mountains.

Genaro Castañeda has not joined the commercial fashions that have followed, as an army of the blind. Fame is not his drive. His artistic conduct only follows his own poetic will. His purpose, to find his own pictorial luck, is consumed every day, in the tenacity of the trade and the discipline of the peasant that Genaro imprints on the furrows of color that plow his own fief, the white canvas.