
Kathy Butterly
The Weight of Looking
Words PLUS MAGAZINE
Margarita Cabrera’s work embodies the resilience and stories of those who traverse borders, both literal and metaphorical. Through a deeply personal lens, she weaves together narratives of migration, cultural hybridity, and the human cost of imperialism. Her sculptures and installations are more than static objects; they pulse with the experiences of displaced communities, inviting us to reconsider the materials we take for granted—like copper, fabric, and even uniforms—as symbols of power, labor, and identity. Cabrera’s latest exhibition, Secuelas: cuerpo, tierra, y mar, continues this exploration, merging craftsmanship with community, and politics with poetry. This conversation delves into her unique ability to bridge the personal and the political, transforming materials into powerful narratives of survival and hope.
PLUS MAGAZINE: In Secuelas: cuerpo, tierra, y mar, you explore the intersections of migration, displacement, and capitalism. How do you balance the personal and the political when engaging with such expansive and deeply rooted themes?
MARGARITA CABRERA: As an immigrant from Mexico, I have lived for more than thirty years in the borderlands of El Paso, TX, and Ciudad Juarez, Chihuahua, MX. Having moved from one social-cultural context to another from a young age, hybridity is part of my personal everyday experience. The border city of El Paso is a major port of entry from Mexico to the US. I grew up seeing massive movements of people, families, cars, cultural goods, and services. Over the years, I learned to find strength and creativity in this const influx of people and objects, which makes me question my understanding of place—where we are presently. And how we measure distance, where we come from, and where we are going. Over the years, I have made immigration histories a central theme in my artistic production and think about ideas of identity, labor, displacement, collapse, community, and repair.
P: The copper butterflies in Craft of Resistance carry the weight of both Mexican and U.S. economies. How do you view the symbolism of currency as a reflection of power dynamics in border relations, and what led you to use the monarch butterfly in particular for this piece?
MC: The monarch butterfly is a universal metaphor for migration. These tiny insects migrate annually and travel thousands of miles south from breeding grounds in Canada and the United States to wait out the winter in various hibernation sites, like the ones I witnessed in Angangueo, Michoacan. Individual monarchs die before returning to their origins, but by breeding in milkweed habitats along their journey, the fourth or fifth generation returns.
Through this work, I juxtapose the monarch metamorphosis with that of Mexican traditions, history, and culture because of the “maquiladora” based economy lining up the US/MX border. Maquiladoras are Mexican labor factories that make products of the US.
Before beginning the project for my Artpace Residency, which was a makeshift factory in the studio, I traveled to Santa Clara del Cobre, Michoacan, MX, to research traditional copper craft-making techniques.
Upon my arrival at Artpace, I created my version of a “maquiladora,” and with a team of volunteers, we began to work on the assembly-line production of small but thousands of copper monarch butterfly sculptures. The mass production factory setup paralleled the interior of maquiladoras found in Mexico with fluorescent lighting and long makeshift tables. We divided the space into twelve schematic cubicles that directed the volunteers through each step of the fabrication process.
After we welded the butterflies, the pieces were packaged and exported to a private home in San Antonio, which has the second part of my project—the installation of thousands of butterflies on walls, chairs, tables, and appliances. The presentation of the insects in an area separate from the gallery symbolizes the disparity between the production of goods in maquiladoras and the place of consumption of Mexican-made products in the US. The swarm represents the transformation of the Mexican economy and the flight of the younger from rural to urban centers on both sides of the border.
Hundreds of life-size copper sculptures are installed in the interior of the gallery space in a beautiful plague-like flock formation. Each side of the butterfly’s wings is printed with the monarch butterfly design on the top side and the symbol of the American pennies on the underside, representing the influence of American currency on the cultural and economic climate of Mexico.
There are hundreds of butterflies on the wall at Jane Lombard gallery displayed across like a swarm of migrating butterflies.
P: El Vaivén del Mar is a striking installation that navigates the complexities of history and current global policies. Could you share how the use of border officer uniforms in the ship sculpture reframes the narrative of colonial exploitation?
MC: The main theme of the central soft-sculptural installation at Jane Lombard Gallery, El Vaiven del Mar, centers on the repercussions of colonial imperial impacts shaping immigration today.
The sailboat navigating the Mediterranean Sea is sewn together with colorful Spanish flamenco dress ruffles and US Border Patrol Uniform fabric. Water is a sacred, live, emotionally intelligent matter—a site of memory accumulation and spiritual cleansing. This piece considers the ocean just like our deserts—which have become vehicles of colonization and forced immigration, uprooting vulnerable communities to benefit past and present white imperial colonial powers.
The colonial sailboat sewn with US border patrol fabric cutting through the Mediterranean Ocean represents settler colonialism founded on the extraction of natural resources and people labor to benefit white imperial powers represented by Spanish leisure flamenco dresses. The uniform fabric positions the United States as the first country historically founded on the decentralization and dehumanization of Indigenous and immigrant communities, contributing to local and global genocide—eliminating original populations to establish allied sovereignty.
Lastly, El Vaiven del Mar is visually presented as both ocean and island with hard and soft edges–transcending boundaries while simultaneously creating new ones. Here, the works’ flexible borders respond to the realities of Nationalism as a historically imperial boundary-making exercise that is historically malleable enough to allow the movement of labor immigrant economies but becomes hard as metal when they want to keep immigrants out, as we see with the use of contemporary US/MX border walls.
The history of immigration is the history of labor movements used by states to mobilize people and labor forces.
P: How does the materiality of your sculptures influence the storytelling aspect of your pieces, especially in the context of migration and identity?
MC: I integrate community stories because through them we listen, understand, and see ourselves as the community we are collectively. We also know inequality and racism break down into individual stories and experiences and that we live in a time of dangerous misinformation, many untold stories, and negative false rhetoric that have caused great division in our communities.
“Space in Between” takes the form of a community sewing and embroidery workshop where global immigrant communities from different countries, such as Chile, Pakistan, Mexico, El Salvador, Ecuador, and Argentina, share their transformational immigration stories and collaborate with local community partners to produce sculptural plants depicting border landscapes. The projects’ participating communities and art audiences with diverse immigration perspectives enter the dialogue and work to reconstruct the US border patrol uniform fabric into shapes and forms that represent growth, flourishment, nature, and life. The sculptural replicas of agaves, prickly pear cacti, saguaros, palm trees, lemon trees, and more are sewn out of border patrol uniforms and colorfully embroidered with individual immigrant narratives on the surface—stories of hope and sacrifice, uprootedness, rebirth, and resilience. Art audiences become witnesses, and the work is a testament to the extraordinary strength and resilience of immigrants through tremendous privation, indignity, and suffering.
P: Your work reimagines and reconstructs collective colonial histories. Do you see your artistic process as an act of resistance, and if so, how do you hope audiences will engage with the narratives of labor, heritage, and transformation that run through your exhibition?
MC: I believe art reflects our environment but is also a tool with which to change it. As a socially engaged artist working in a community, I would like audiences to enter the world of immigrants and see the world through their eyes, learn about the injustices they face, and have a more in-depth understanding of their experience through community engagement. The work acknowledges a shared immigration experience, a history that is foundational to the US, and advocates for a more humane treatment of all. The work supports immigrant communities in reclaiming their culture, their voice, and their place in the work–their power.
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