This multimedia piece explores the use of tattoos as a religious practice among devotees of Santa Muerte (sm<\/span>) in the context of Mexico City and its surrounding areas. The veneration of the sm<\/span> has complex roots, with influences ranging from indigenous traditions and colonial Catholicism to pop culture. This devotion, which has been evident in Tepito since 2001, has spread beyond Mexico. Devotees, often from socioeconomically vulnerable backgrounds, seek in the sm<\/span> safety and protection, which they view as a great equalizer. Tattoos are a fundamental expression of this devotion; they fulfill promises and transform the body into a personal altar. The pain of tattooing is linked to everyday suffering and devotion. This multimedia project, based on the \u201clived religion\u201d approach, documents these practices in Tepito and Tultitl\u00e1n to showcase tattooing as an act of faith.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Keywords: devotion<\/a>, Mexico<\/a>, lived religion<\/a>, Holy death<\/a>, tattoos<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Santa Muerte tattoos<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n This multimedia piece explores tattooing as a religious practice among devotees of Santa Muerte in Mexico City and the surrounding areas. The roots of devotion to this saint are complex, with influences ranging from Indigenous traditions and colonial Catholicism to popular culture. After coming to public attention in 2001 in Tepito, this devotion has spread beyond Mexico. Devotees, many of whom come from socially and economically marginalized backgrounds, seek protection and support from Santa Muerte, whom they regard as a great equalizer. Tattoos are a central expression of this devotion: they fulfill promises and transform the body into a personal altar. The pain of getting a tattoo is linked to everyday suffering and devotion. Drawing on the framework of lived religion, this multimedia project documents these practices in Tepito and Tultitl\u00e1n to present tattooing as an act of faith.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Keywords: Santa Muerte, tattoos, lived religion, devotion, Mexico.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This multimedia piece explores how devotees of Santa Muerte use tattoos as part of their religious practices. To this end, we will present the history of her veneration and its current practice in the context of Mexico City and its surrounding areas, as well as her devotees and their use of tattoos. Researchers trying to trace the history of Santa Muerte (sm<\/span>) agree that it is a difficult task. Most of the literature refers to Native American traditions, such as the Mexica veneration of the god of death, Mictlantecuhtli, whose main temple is located a few blocks from the Tepito neighborhood, where one of the most important altars to the sm<\/span> in Mexico City. These texts mention practices of ancestral religiosity, such as purification, shamanism, and the ritual use of cenotes, which are present in various places of worship. Some authors link this figure to the colonial Catholic practice of praying for a good death and the veneration of Saint Paschal Bail\u00f3n (Bigliardini, Lorusso, and Morrone, 2022; Hern\u00e1ndez Hern\u00e1ndez, 2016; Oleszkiewicz-Peralba, 2015).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Others emphasize the Catholic nature of the practice (Malvido, 2005, 2006). Popular Catholicism is perhaps Mexico\u2019s defining religious model. The popular veneration of canonical figures\u2014such as the Virgin of Guadalupe\u2014and non-canonical figures\u2014such as Jes\u00fas Malverde\u2014is widespread. This veneration takes the form of visits to altars, lighting candles, using rosaries, offering food and money, dressing and cradling the saints, making mandas (promises), and presenting votive offerings. The difference would lie in the fact that the sm<\/span> It does not have a proper name; it is a more abstract concept (Pansters, 2019).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Some works highlight the connection to popular culture: the figure of La Catrina (the stylized skeleton seen on the Day of the Dead), horror movies, and the rock and heavy metal<\/em>. They argue that in the aesthetics of the sm<\/span> is influenced more by pop culture than by the Mexica tradition of Mictlantecuhtli, for example. The sm<\/span> It seems to stem more from popular culture and the media than from ancestral imagery (Flores Martos, 2014).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Finally, some mention influences from Santer\u00eda and Pentecostalism. Although rituals similar to those of Santer\u00eda (purification, smoking, healing, and communication with the orishas) are more common on the Caribbean coast, they are spreading to other regions of the country (Bigliardini, Lorusso, and Morrone, 2022; Higuera Bonfil, 2015; Kingsbury, 2021; Pansters, 2019). Pentecostalism, on the other hand, is viewed more as an \u201cother\u201d that competes with the sm<\/span> due to the promise of health and economic prosperity, as well as an organizational structure that is more horizontal than that of Catholicism (Argyriadis, 2014; Bigliardini, Lorusso, and Morrone, 2022).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Whatever their origin, these possible roots should be viewed more as context than as specific historical origins of the devotion. Culture has changed, so the social significance and experience of death today are not the same as they were among the Mexicas or during the colonial era (Yllescas Illescas, 2018).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jorge Adri\u00e1n Yllescas Illescas (2018) presents three complementary phases of his contemporary practice: a hidden phase (featuring records of domestic life dating back to 1940); a public one (which began in 2001 in the Tepito neighborhood of Mexico City); and a third stage of consolidation and expansion (beginning in 2008, spreading to the rest of the country and the United States). It would appear that the veneration of Santa Muerte originated in rural areas when internal migrants arrived en masse in Mexico City during the 1940s. The sm<\/span> She was a domestic saint, the object of family devotion rather than public veneration. Its spread in prisons (in the 1990s) may be due to the ambiguous nature of prisons: while they are public institutions, they are also domestic spaces where people live (Garc\u00e9s Marrero, 2019; Kristensen, 2015; Pansters, 2019).<\/p>\n\n\n\n In 1992, the Mexican government amended the legal framework governing religion in the public sphere. For the first time since the Mexican Revolution, a certain degree of public worship was permitted (Argyriadis, 2014). Almost ten years later, in October 2001, Do\u00f1a Enriqueta Romero, on Alfarer\u00eda Street in Tepito, built an altar in her front yard, visible from the street. This is the first recorded instance of public veneration (Flores Martos, 2014; Pansters, 2019). The third period began in 2008 when Do\u00f1a Enriqueta Vargas took charge of the altar dedicated to her murdered son, Jonathan Legoria Vargas, in Tultitl\u00e1n, State of Mexico, about 30 kilometers from Mexico City. Mrs. Vargas, fulfilling a promise, internationalized the devotion to the sm<\/span>: During those years, altars began to appear in New York and other U.S. cities, generally built by immigrants (Calvo-Quir\u00f3s, 2022; Pansters, 2019). The sm<\/span> It thus became a symbol of Mexican identity (Calvo-Quir\u00f3s, 2022; Hern\u00e1ndez Hern\u00e1ndez, 2016), just as much as Frida Kahlo or the Virgin of Guadalupe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Although it is a visible phenomenon and has sparked considerable academic interest, its magnitude is difficult to measure. Some ethnographic data point to a decline and difficulties faced by lesser-known shrines in retaining devotees (Garc\u00e9s Marrero, 2019; Higuera Bonfil, 2015); others claim\u2014without providing supporting data\u2014that it is the fastest-growing religion in the West (Chestnut, 2019; Kingsbury and Chestnut, 2020). In any case, Will Pansters (2019) estimates there are about 1.5 million practitioners, a figure he calculated based on websites and reports on image sales. Part of the problem with measurement\u2014as is often the case when measuring religiosity in Latin America\u2014is the assumption that Latin Americans belong exclusively to one religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It is true that Catholic authorities have opposed this devotion and criticized it as a non-Catholic practice (Argyriadis, 2014; Yllescas Illescas, 2018); some studies even discuss the anti-Catholic aspect of the cult (Martin, 2013). However, the practices carried out in public rituals and personal piety have a Catholic foundation: they use the same hymns and prayers, recite rosaries, and hold processions, make offerings, perform novenas, and conduct healings (Bigliardini, Lorusso, and Morrone, 2022; Calvo-Quir\u00f3s, 2022; Garc\u00e9s Marrero, 2019; Higuera Bonfil, 2015; Perdig\u00f3n Casta\u00f1eda and Robles Aguirre, 2019). Some prayers are modified, but most rituals begin with an invocation to God (Roush, 2014). More importantly, most devotees identify themselves as Catholics or santeros (Calvo-Quir\u00f3s, 2022; Flores Martos, 2014; Oleszkiewicz-Peralba, 2015) and venerate the sm<\/span> along with Saint Jude Thaddeus, Our Lady of Guadalupe, Satan, and the Orishas (Yllescas Illescas, 2018). The veneration of Santa Muerte takes place within the context of popular Catholicism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The fact that Catholic authorities do not control the practice does not mean that there are no institutional structures or power struggles among the devotees. The studies document tensions among the three main centers around Mexico City, with some associations expelling members and assuming the role of dogmatic authorities who make decisions in favor of one side or the other, even establishing a hierarchical structure with \u201cbishops\u201d and \u201cpriests\u201d; as well as some disagreements between traditionalist and progressive practitioners. What they all have in common is their assertion of authenticity and Mexican identity, and that the sm<\/span> She may be a jealous and vengeful saint (Argyriadis, 2014; Bigliardini, Lorusso, and Morrone, 2022; Pansters, 2019).<\/p>\n\n\n\n According to Adri\u00e1n Yllescas, veneration is uniformly diverse. There are similarities between devotees and public shrines, but there are also variations. In many cases, though not always, people offer candles, sweets, apples, flowers, and cigarettes. In other cases, worship included divination practices related to dreams. In prisons, inmates usually take care of the altar once a week, a task always performed by the same person (generally the \u201cowner\u201d) (Yllescas Illescas, 2018).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Many devotees of Santa Muerte\u2014though not all\u2014live in a socioeconomic context of vulnerability and poverty. When Mexican President Felipe Calder\u00f3n (2006\u20132012) launched a war against drug lords (2006), government officials linked the altars of the sm<\/span> drug trafficking and proceeded to eradicate them from urban areas (Garc\u00e9s Marrero, 2019). The media relished showing images of the altars raided by the police. The sm<\/span> He thus became an icon among drug traffickers and murderers who fascinated reporters (Roush, 2014).<\/p>\n\n\n\n The prison population undoubtedly played a significant role in shaping the cult as we know it today (Lomnitz, 2019). The cult spread among inmates, their families, and the neighborhoods where they lived. Regnar Albaek Kristensen (2015) created a geographic map of the altars. Scholars have noted that, prior to their incarceration, these individuals lived in poor conditions, with broken families, a lack of education and employment, economic instability, and a history of petty crimes (Yllescas Illescas, 2018).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Many devotees live on the margins of society and in precarious conditions, abandoned by governments and markets (Pansters, 2019), suffering from lawlessness and violence. They live in working-class or formerly working-class neighborhoods, with considerable exposure to drug trafficking; they earn a living in the informal economy, without legal protection. Devotion is linked to these living conditions: frustrated access to the law and a lack of protection against injustices (Garc\u00e9s Marrero, 2019; Lomnitz, 2019; Roush, 2014). Likewise, many others sought a better life north of the border. Migration led to the sm<\/span> to the United States, where migrants also face vulnerability and poverty, albeit in different ways. The U.S. media, in turn, reinforced the association between the sm<\/span> and criminal cartels originating in Latin America (Calvo-Quir\u00f3s, 2022; Flores Martos, 2014).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Given this context, the researchers agreed on the two main reasons why devotees turn to the sm:<\/span> First, because it offers shelter to the helpless; most prayers are structured around this theme of helplessness and protection (Pansters, 2019; Roush, 2014). The second characteristic is that death is the great equalizer: it is common to all, part of the human condition; it does not discriminate\u2014it happens to everyone. For this reason, the altars of the sm<\/span> They usually welcome the community lgbti<\/span>+ and some of its leaders are transgender people (Calvo-Quir\u00f3s, 2022; Pansters, 2019).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Latin American scholars (Ameigeiras, 2008; De la Torre, Guti\u00e9rrez, and Hern\u00e1ndez, 2020; Parker Gumucio, 1993) have focused their attention on popular religion as a distinctive form of religious practice situated between the rituals of ordinary people and the guidelines of institutional elites. The concept of lived religion (Ammerman, 2020; Pereira Arenas and Morello, 2022) has further developed and expanded this perspective. By focusing on individuals\u2019 everyday religious practices, scholars of lived religion highlight the actions of ordinary people rather than institutional decrees. This approach examines the tangible and embodied participation, autonomy, and creativity of practitioners, emphasizing their ability to generate and transmit religious meaning in their daily lives (Morello 2021a; Rabbia, Morello, Da Costa, and Romero, 2019).<\/p>\n\n\n\n From this perspective, tattoos are considered religious practices primarily because people choose to adorn themselves with them to establish a connection with something beyond the human realm. Tattoos convey sacred meanings that represent tangible manifestations of intangible experiences that have left an emotional impact (Morello, 2021b). By altering the skin, tattoos interact with the body in a manner similar to pilgrimage or fasting (Inckle, 2016). They are composed of a material substance (ink), and their selection is influenced by aesthetic considerations, subject to debates about taste and creativity (Kosut, 2014; Rees, 2022) and involve moral judgments about what is considered appropriate to tattoo and where on the body to do so (Morello, S\u00e1nchez, Moreno, Engelmann, & Evangel, 2021).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Like conventional tattoos, religious tattoos serve as a form of body communication through which people convey aspects of themselves to others (Atkinson, 2003). However, religious tattoos specifically convey spiritual experiences and, as such, offer opportunities for reflection on sacred matters (Yllescas Illescas, 2018); they also function as markers of religious affiliation, placing the wearer within a particular group (Dougherty and Koch, 2019; Maldonado-Estrada, 2020) or religious tradition (Petkoff, 2019). These tattoos often explicitly depict images of saints, demons, orishas, deities, crucifixes, Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and angels, serving as personal altars (Guerzoni, 2018; Yllescas Illescas, 2018).<\/p>\n\n\n\n By adorning the individual with symbols that transcend the human realm, religious tattoos forge connections with a network of human and superhuman beings inscribed on the wearer\u2019s body (Davidson, 2016). While they are deeply personal and intimate, they also foster a sense of community, as people often cite others as inspiration for their tattoos\u2014whether through acquaintances who design them, loved ones who get matching tattoos, or by being depicted within the tattoo itself (Morello, 2021b).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Tattoos are often mentioned among devotees of the sm<\/span> (Argyriadis, 2014: 194; Bigliardini, Lorusso, and Morrone, 2022: 226; Kristensen, 2015: 560; Pansters, 2019) and were one of the ways in which devotion was made public (Flores Martos, 2014: 121). In fact, Lomnitz (2019: 184, 187) asserts that tattoos are fundamental to devotion: the most significant characteristic of the cult. Andrew Chestnut (2012: 151\u2013153) studied tattoos as a way to fulfill a vow (a promise made) to the sm<\/span>; the greater the favor, the larger the tattoo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In prisons, Yllescas Illescas (2018) discovered that tattoos function like altars: offerings are made, and the names of loved ones are placed near the images. People pray to the tattooed images, asking for protection and justice. The tattooed body becomes an eclectic altar: the tattoos of the sm<\/span> They are often just one among many other tattoos: names, signatures, and faces of loved ones; religious images (Our Lady of Guadalupe, Jesus Christ, Satan, and Saint Jude Thaddeus); animals; numbers; and flags. Devout individuals also modify their tattoos (Pansters, 2019).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Tattoos are a way for these people to identify with one another, recognize those who share a similar mark as part of the group, and, at the same time, allow the sm<\/span> to use the bodies of their devotees for missionary work. In the small sample explored by Judith Perdig\u00f3n Casta\u00f1eda and Bernardo Robles Aguirre (2019), the specific location on the body conveys a message and a meaning. Getting a tattoo involves pain. While some people enjoy pain, others experience it as cathartic\u2014as something endured in honor of the sm<\/span> (Rees, 2022). Tattoos are associated with pain and resilience (Perdig\u00f3n Casta\u00f1eda and Robles Aguirre, 2019).<\/p>\n\n\n\n This work is part of a global project on religious tattoos as a form of religious practice. The project\u2019s goal is to challenge traditional methods of measuring religiosity\u2014primarily, the frequency of weekly church attendance\u2014by showing that there are other ways in which people practice religion. The video features observations of religious celebrations in Tepito and Tultitl\u00e1n, as well as interviews with people who have religious tattoos and tattoo artists who specialize in devotional tattoos. It highlights the interactions between tattoo artists, their clients, and the contexts in which the tattoos are done; the negotiations, adaptations, and unique aspects of each case (Morello and De Paula, 2024). Body marking is an aspect of worship: people often have an altar at home and carry an image (pendant, prayer card) with them at all times. The body becomes an extension of the home altar. The tattoo is also venerated as a religious object in its own right, as a way to connect with the superhuman figure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Some participants mention that pain was an integral part of the tattooing process, and that the devotion shown is greater when the pain endured is more acute. In a way, in these accounts, the pain of getting a tattoo helps give meaning to everyday suffering; and conversely, the pain endured makes the pain of getting the tattoo bearable. Another point mentioned is the relationship between the part of the body that is tattooed and the specific need: health on the leg or arm, or protection from unexpected harm when the tattoo is on the back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The video footage was shot between March 1 and 7, 2024. The decision was made to visit Tepito (Wednesday, March 6) and Tultitl\u00e1n (Sunday, March 3) to film footage at these two locations, which are considered iconic sites of devotion in literature. In Tepito, Enriqueta Vargas unveils her altar, in what is considered a key moment in the public devotion to the sm<\/span> and the main altar in Mexico City. Tultitl\u00e1n is the place that marks the expansion of this devotion, both domestically\u2014the image, over 20 meters tall, is an unmistakable presence in Mexico\u2019s secular public space\u2014and internationally, as this sanctuary was the one that brought the devotion to the world stage. The footage from Tultitl\u00e1n captured a Sunday celebration during a ritual, while the footage from Tepito was taken on a weekday, showing devotees praying either alone or in small groups.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The filming of tattoo artists in Tepito and Cuajimalpa took place on March 6 and 7, 2024; in both cases, the clients gave their consent to be filmed. The selection of locations was based on the different socioeconomic levels of the urban areas\u2014one more working-class and working-people-oriented, the other more upper-middle-class and professional. We filmed contextual footage in the Historic Center, at the Templo Mayor Museum, the San Ildefonso School, the Village and Basilica of Guadalupe, and the Sonora Market.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The video was edited between March and June 2024. It was originally designed to accompany the course Tattoos and Religion: A Study of a Neglected Spiritual Practice<\/em>, the videos provide context for the interactions between tattoos and the societies in which they are practiced. Funding was made possible by an Ignite research grant from the Boston College Office of the Vice Provost for Research.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ameigeiras, Aldo (2008). Religiosidad popular: creencias religiosas populares en la sociedad argentina.<\/em> Buenos Aires-Los Polvorines: Biblioteca Nacional\/Universidad Nacional de General Sarmiento (ungs<\/span>).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ammerman, Nancy (2020). \u201cRethinking Religion: Toward a Practice Approach\u201d, The American Journal of Sociology<\/em>, vol. 126, n\u00fam. 1, pp. 1-46.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Argyriadis, Kali (2014). \u201c\u2018Cat\u00f3licos, apost\u00f3licos y no-sat\u00e1nicos\u2019: representaciones contempor\u00e1neas en M\u00e9xico y construcciones locales (Veracruz) del culto a la Santa Muerte\u201d, Revista Cultura y Religi\u00f3n, <\/em>vol. 8, n\u00fam. 1, pp. 191-218.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Atkinson, Michael (2003). Tattooed. The Sociogenesis of a Body Art.<\/em> Toronto: University of Toronto Press.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Bigliardini, Stefano, Fabrizio Lorusso y Stefano Morrone (2022). \u201cThe Mexican Santa Muerte from Tepito to Tultitl\u00e1n: Tradition, Innovation, and Syncretism at Enriqueta Vargas\u2019 Temple\u201d, en Beth Singler y Eileen Barker. Radical Transformations in Minority Religions<\/em>. Londres y Nueva York: Routledge, pp. 225-241.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Calvo-Quir\u00f3s, William (2022). Undocumented Saints.<\/em> Nueva York: Oxford University Press.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chesnut, Andrew (2012). Devoted to Death. Santa Muerte, the Skeleton Saint.<\/em> Nueva York: Oxford University Press.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014 (2019). \u201cSanta Muerte\u201d, en Henri Gooren. Encyclopedia of Latin American Religions. <\/em>Bern: Springer, pp. 1413-1415.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Davidson, Deborah (2016). The Tattoo Project. Commemorative Tattoos, Visual Culture, and the Digital Archive.<\/em> Toronto: Canadian Scholars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n De la Torre, Ren\u00e9e, Cristina Guti\u00e9rrez y Alberto Hern\u00e1ndez (2020). \u201cReligious Reconfiguration in M\u00e9xico: Beliefs and Practices National Survey, 2016\u201d, Social Compass, <\/em>vol. 67, n\u00fam. 3, pp. 349-371.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dougherty, Kevin y Jerome Koch (2019). \u201cReligious Tattoos at One Christian University\u201d, Visual Studies, <\/em>vol. 34, n\u00fam. 4, pp. 311-318.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Flores Martos, Juan Antonio (2014). \u201cIconograf\u00edas emergentes y muertes patrimonializadas en Am\u00e9rica Latina\u201d, Revista de Antropolog\u00eda Iberoamericana<\/em>, pp. 115-140.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Garc\u00e9s Marrero, Roberto (2019). \u201cLa Santa Muerte en la Ciudad de M\u00e9xico: devoci\u00f3n, vida cotidiana y espacio p\u00fablico\u201d, Revista Cultura y Religi\u00f3n, <\/em>vol. 13, n\u00fam. 2, pp. 103-121.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Guerzoni, Guido (2018). \u201cDevotional Tattoos in Early Modern Italy\u201d, Espacio, Tiempo y Forma, <\/em>vol. 6, pp. 119-136.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hern\u00e1ndez Hern\u00e1ndez, Alberto (2016). \u201cIntroduction. La Santa Muerte. Espacios, cultos y devociones\u201d, en Alberto Hern\u00e1ndez Hern\u00e1ndez. La Santa Muerte. Espacios, cultos y devociones<\/em>. Tijuana: El Colegio de la Frontera Norte\/El Colegio de San Luis, pp. 13-29.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Higuera Bonfil, Antonio (2015). \u201cLa Santa Muerte en Chetumal. La expansi\u00f3n de un culto popular\u201d, Caleidoscopio, <\/em>vol. 32, pp. 155-184.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Inckle, Kay (2016). \u201c\u2018Physical Words\u2019: Scars, Tattoos, and Embodied Mourning\u201d, en Deborah Davidson. The Tattoo Project. Commemorative Tattoos, Visual Culture, and the Digital Archive<\/em>. Toronto: Canadian Scholars, pp. 113-124.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Kingsbury, Kate (2021). \u201cAt Death\u2019s Door in Cancun: Sun, Sea, and Santa Muerte\u201d, Anthropology and Humanism, <\/em>vol. 46, n\u00fam. 2, pp. 244-265.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Kingsbury, Kate y Andrew Chestnut (2020). \u201cHoly Death in the Time of Coronavirus: Santa Muerte, the Salubrious Saint\u201d, International Journal of Latin American Religion, <\/em>n\u00fam. 4, pp. 194-217.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nHistorical Roots<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Contemporary Devotion<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Veneration Today<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Devotees<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Tattoos as Religious Practices<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Santa Muerte Tattoos<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
The video<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Bibliography<\/h2>\n\n\n\n