The Calavera: The Lesser-Known Origins of a Día de Muertos Icon

Introduction

We all know Día de Muertos as a time to honor and celebrate loved ones who have passed. The calavera: those smiling skulls and skeletons that appear in altars, prints, and folk art, has become the most recognizable symbol of the holiday. What many people do not realize is that the calavera’s story began not in devotion, but in dissent. Long before it became a fixture of remembrance, it served as a tool of satire and social commentary.

Pre to Post Hispanic Symbol

Images of skulls and bones appeared in pre-Hispanic Mesoamerican art as part of rituals dedicated to Mictecacihuatl, the goddess of the underworld. These traditions viewed death as a continuation of life rather than its end. When Spanish colonizers arrived, they brought their own visual culture: memento mori art that used skulls to remind the living of life’s brevity and the need for repentance.

Over time, these two worlds converged. Indigenous symbolism met European Christian Memento Mori Art, forming a new language of death that would later find expression in Mexican folk art. By the 1700s and 1800s, small handcrafted skulls and skeletons appeared in markets, gradually becoming part of everyday visual culture.

Calaveras in Print: Art for the People

In nineteenth-century Mexico, widespread illiteracy made pictures more powerful than words. Calaveras flourished in print as visual satire, appearing in affordable broadsides sold in the streets. These skeletal figures poked fun at politicians, clergy, and the wealthy, using humor to expose hypocrisy and remind readers that death spares no one.

Among the artists who defined this movement was José Guadalupe Posada (1852–1913). Living through dictatorship, revolution, and reform, Posada turned political commentary into accessible art. His skeletons danced, drank, and gossiped their way through Mexico’s changing social landscape, illustrating with irony and precision what could not safely be said aloud.

La Catrina and the Message of Equality

Around 1910, Posada etched La Calavera Catrina: a skeleton wearing a feathered European hat—to mock those who rejected their Indigenous roots in favor of European style and status. The image struck a chord. It captured both humor and truth: no matter one’s wealth or class, everyone meets the same fate.

Posada’s message was simple and enduring: “Death is democratic.” After his death, artists such as Diego Rivera revived his imagery, cementing the calavera’s place in Mexican identity and the Día de Muertos celebration we recognize today.

From Satire to Symbol

What began as social critique evolved into a national emblem of remembrance. The calavera now bridges two worlds: life and death, humor and reverence, the personal and the political. Its grin reminds us that memory can coexist with laughter, and that equality, at least in death, belongs to everyone.

The story of the calavera reminds us that even the most joyful traditions can have rebellious beginnings.