Day of the Dead takes loving, lighthearted look at deceased loved ones

Halloween's over, but for some of the characters who've been lurking among the witches and zombies, it's finally their time to shine.

Fanciful, brightly painted sugar skulls and elegantly attired skeletons may have seemed at home at Halloween, but Sunday starts their holiday: Day of the Dead.

Celebrated in Mexico Nov. 1 and 2, Day of the Dead may share the same days on the Christian calendar with All Saints' Day (Nov. 1) and All Souls' Day (Nov. 2).

But "it's got nothing to do with Halloween," explains Erika Borges, cultural specialist at the Winchester Cultural Center.

The center's 15th annual "Life in Death" Festival runs today and Monday, offering a more authentic Day of the Dead experience, complete with decorated altars, called ofrendas, that honor departed loved ones with symbols of their lives on earth.

Handmade paper flowers, photographs and other elements adorn the candlelit altars; this year's Winchester staff ofrenda includes Pepsi-Cola bottles Borges contributed in memory of her grandmother, who "always liked Pepsi," she explains. "So every year I buy her a Pepsi."

The annual festival features other Day of the Dead traditions, including the reading of calaveras, satirical poems about still-living figures, written as though the subjects were dead.

Former Las Vegas mayor Oscar Goodman "has died many times," notes Patrick Gaffey, Clark County cultural supervisor, as has casino mogul Steve Wynn. And "Donald Trump, I imagine, will die a thousand times" during this presidential campaign year, he adds.

An art exhibit (on display through Thursday) includes paintings, sculptures and other works, depicting everyone from legendary artist Frida Kahlo to a skeletal version of the late Mexican actress Maria Felix.

Felix's bare-bones likeness could qualify as a Catrina, a popular Day of the Dead figure who's always elegantly attired as "an upscale rich person," says Irma Varela, who started the "Life In Death" festival 15 years ago at Prince of Peace Catholic Church.

Following two years at the church, "Life in Death" moved to the Winchester center — and acquired its own mascot, a Catrina-style showgirl dubbed Elizadeath, who's marking her Quinceanera this year attired in a feather-bedecked dress.

Attendance at the two-day Winchester event topped 9,000 last year, Borges notes.

"You would think it's all Latinos," but "I think the Anglo community is getting into it," she adds, citing a group from Montana making a pilgrimage to this year's event.

Many Day of the Dead traditions date to 19th century Mexico City with publisher and political cartoonist Jose Guadalupe Posada, whose work originated in a time of "severe inequality," according to Miriam Melton-Villanueva, assistant history professor at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas.

Posada's "images were used to critique the elite culture," she notes. And the increasing visibility of Day of the Dead imagery in the U.S. is "coming at a time that's similar to Posada's time," Melton-Villanueva says, citing "oligarchy, corruption, money in politics." Overall, "it's very interesting that it's happening right now."

Las Vegas artist Justin Favela has been experiencing Day of the Dead traditions firsthand this year while he participates in an artist's residency in Puebla, Mexico.

"Day of the Dead is hot in the U.S. right now," he notes in an email interview. "People love the imagery: the candy skulls, the flowers, the colorful costumes and the face painting."

But Favela has "mixed feelings when I seen Halloween and Day of the Dead items being sold next to each other in stores," he explains. "In a sense, it's great to see Mexican items for sale" because "it gives the holiday more visibility."

Yet "this sacred Mexican holiday is being whitewashed so that it can be more easily consumed by the American people, like a crunchy shelled taco from Taco Bell," Favela says.

Yet even in Mexico, he's "noticed a lot of little shops selling Halloween costumes and decorations," although "people are aware of the two festivities and celebrate them separately."

After all, "cultural diffusion goes both ways," agrees UNLV's Melton-Villanueva, whose upcoming book "The Aztecs at Independence: Culture-Makers in Central Mexico 1799-1832" includes evidence that indigenous folk altars existed even before European colonial powers arrived in Mexico.

Educating visitors about Day of the Dead remains a primary goal of Winchester's "Life in Death" event.

"Irma laid down the rule — we want to make the festival as authentic as possible," Gaffey says. And that means maintaining the separation between Halloween and Day of the Dead.

"The only thing they have in common is spirits," Varela points out. Day of the Dead's spirits are "good spirits," she says, while Halloween focuses on "the bad, the mean."

The "sad part of it," she adds, is "losing the sentiment" behind Day of the Dead "and it becomes more painted faces."

Some might describe that as "cultural appropriation," but Favela prefers the term " 'cultural smudging,' when things get smudged past the point of recognition. After a while, things get so smudged that they are practically erased."

Yet Day of the Dead enables participants to view death in a more lighthearted way than in Anglo culture, Melton-Villanueva maintains.

"The U.S. has never done death connected with fun," she says. "Mexico has." And "this is definitely a moment where people need lightness."

For more stories from Carol Cling go to reviewjournal.com. Contact her at ccling@reviewjournal.com and follow @CarolSCling on Twitter.