Jose Guadalupe Posada Art: Why the World Still Gets Him Wrong

Jose Guadalupe Posada Art: Why the World Still Gets Him Wrong

Honestly, you've seen his work before. Even if the name doesn't ring a bell, the face does. That elegant, skeletal lady wearing a massive, feathered French hat? That’s La Calavera Catrina, and she's basically the mascot of Day of the Dead. But here's the thing: most people think jose guadalupe posada art was always about the holidays or some deep-seated obsession with the afterlife.

It wasn't.

Posada was a working-class guy from Aguascalientes who moved to Mexico City to make a buck. He wasn't some high-brow gallery artist sipping wine. He was a commercial illustrator who worked for a penny-press publisher named Antonio Vanegas Arroyo. They pumped out cheap broadsheets—the 19th-century version of grocery store tabloids. While the elite were trying to act European, Posada was drawing the gritty, weird, and often violent reality of the streets.

The Myth of the Revolutionary Artist

If you look at textbooks today, they’ll tell you Posada was the "printmaker to the Mexican people" and a fierce revolutionary. Diego Rivera, the famous muralist, actually started that rumor. Rivera loved the idea of a "guerrilla of the press," so he claimed Posada was a radical rebel fighting the dictator Porfirio Díaz.

But the real history is kinda messy.

Posada was a freelancer. He drew whatever the boss told him to draw. Sometimes he mocked the government; other times, he mocked the revolutionaries themselves. He actually drew some pretty nasty caricatures of Francisco Madero and Emiliano Zapata. In one print, he even compared Zapatismo to a "bad seed." He wasn't a political ideologue. He was a guy with a deadline and a zinc plate.

Most of his work actually focused on:

  • Lurid crimes: Grisly murders that would make a true-crime podcaster blush.
  • Natural disasters: Floods, comets (like Halley's in 1910), and eclipses.
  • Miracles: Strange births or religious visions.
  • Corridos: Ballads about daily life that people would sing in the streets.

It wasn't just woodcuts

People often assume he was doing old-school wood engraving. Actually, Posada was an early adopter of new tech. He used photo-relief etching on zinc plates. It was faster. He could draw on a plate with acid-resistant ink and have it ready for the press in no time. This speed allowed him to produce over 20,000 images in his lifetime. Think about that for a second. 20,000.

The Birth of the Catrina

Let's talk about that famous skeleton. Originally, she wasn't "Catrina." She was La Calavera Garbancera. The term "garbancera" was slang for someone of Indigenous blood who tried to act European—basically, people who sold chickpeas (garbanzos) and pretended they were Spanish to fit in with the upper class.

Posada wasn't celebrating death here. He was making fun of people who wore fancy clothes to hide who they really were. His point was simple: underneath the expensive hat and the French lace, we’re all just bones.

"Death is democratic. At the end of the day, whether you are light-skinned or dark-skinned, rich or poor, everyone ends up a skeleton." — This sentiment, often attributed to Posada’s era, defined the satirical edge of his work.

It was Diego Rivera who eventually took that skeleton, gave her a full body and a dress, and stuck her in his mural Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Park. That’s when the world started associating Jose Guadalupe Posada art with the Day of the Dead specifically.

Beyond the Skulls: The "Tabloid" Work

If you only look at the skeletons, you're missing the best parts. Posada’s "noticias" (news) prints were wild. He’d draw a "horrible suicide" on Balvanera street with as much detail as possible to catch the eye of someone walking by a newsstand. Since many people couldn't read well at the time, the image had to tell the whole story.

His style was punchy. Bold lines. No wasted space. He knew how to make a head look like it was exploding or a demon look genuinely terrifying. It was the visual language of the common person.

The Tragic End and the "Discovery"

For all his influence, Posada died broke.

He passed away in 1913, right in the middle of the Mexican Revolution. He was buried in an unmarked, sixth-class grave in the Dolores Cemetery in Mexico City. Nobody really cared until about ten years later when a French artist named Jean Charlot "discovered" his old printing blocks.

👉 See also: How Many Ounces is One Pound: Why This Simple Math Trips Us All Up

Charlot and Rivera realized that this "humble" illustrator had captured the soul of Mexico better than any "fine artist" ever had. They turned him into a legend.

Today, you can find his original zinc blocks in museums like the Amon Carter Museum of American Art or the Library of Congress. His influence stretches from Frida Kahlo to the Chicano art movement of the 1970s and modern tattoo culture.

How to Appreciate Jose Guadalupe Posada Art Today

If you want to move past the "Day of the Dead" cliches and really get into the work, here’s what you should actually look for:

  1. Look for the Satire: Don't just see a skeleton. Ask who that skeleton is supposed to be. Is it a corrupt politician? A snobby socialite? A drunkard?
  2. Study the "Corridos": Find the prints that include lyrics. They offer a window into what people were singing and worrying about in 1905.
  3. Visit Aguascalientes: If you're ever in Mexico, the Museo José Guadalupe Posada is the holy grail. It’s located in his hometown and houses a massive collection of original prints.
  4. Public Domain Digging: Because of when he lived, his work is largely in the public domain. Sites like the Public Domain Review have high-res scans that show the raw, gritty texture of his lines.

Stop treating him like a holiday decorator. Posada was a journalist with a chisel. He was the guy who stayed in the city when everyone else fled, capturing the chaos of a country being born and a culture trying to find itself. He didn't paint for the future; he drew for the guy with a penny in his pocket. And that's exactly why his work still feels so alive 100 years later.

To really dive in, start by searching for his "noticias" prints—the non-skeleton ones. Seeing how he handled a regular news story about a comet or a bank robbery gives you a much better sense of his genius than another Catrina t-shirt ever will.