Margarita Sandoval plays with her son Alexander Santillan-Sandoval, 4, as they listen to speakers during the grand opening of the exhibit “Alebrijes: Keepers of the Island” on Raspberry Island in St. Paul. (Elizabeth Flores/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

A purple-and-green raccoon with a snake-like tail. A bear with wings. A massive fish with four legs, gigantic fangs and a wing-like fin on its back.

These are just three of the 16 alebrijes, large-scale mâché creations combining multiple fantastical animals into one, that roam St. Paul’s Raspberry Island this summer in the exhibition “Alebrijes: Keepers of the Island.” The Minnesota Latino Museum brought this traveling exhibition to St. Paul.

Ideas for alebrijes “come to me in dreams,” Mexico City-based artist Alberto Moreno Fernández said in Spanish.

His creation “Barón (Standing Bird),” is a dreamy creature with colorful striped horns, long skinny legs, a pink tail with peacock feathers painted onto it and orange duck feet.

Artist Edgar Israel Camargo Reyes works on the alebrije “Mykel" for the exhibit “Alebrijes: Keepers of the Island." Alebrijes are brightly colored Mexican folk art sculptures of fantastical creatures, traditionally made from papier-mâché or wood. (Elizabeth Flores/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Edgar Israel Camargo Reyes, another artist whose alebrijes (pronounced ah-leh-bree-hehs) are also on the island, said he is inspired by what he sees.

“It’s like this: I see a beetle, and I like its face, its body,” he said in Spanish. “But I would like to put the feet of a rooster … and then I do it, and we see what happens.”

Besides Fernández and Reyes, Perla Miriam Salgado Zamorano and Alejandro Camacho are the other artists whose works are on display in this free traveling exhibition.

Minnesota Latino Museum’s executive director Aaron Johnson-Ortiz first encountered alebrijes three years ago, when they were on view at the Mexican Cultural Center DuPage, a community arts organization in West Chicago, Ill.

He said in Mexico City, a relatively arid place, alebrijes are displayed in parades that are usually for one day. “So, they don’t really need to last for months. But as soon as they got to Chicago in 2022, like I remember the first week, they already had mold on them,” Johnson-Ortiz said.

To withstand Minnesota’s weather, the alebrijes have been coated with a protective gel that’s used on outdoor murals.

To bring the alebrijes show to St. Paul, the Minnesota Latino Museum received a $30,000 Our Town grant from the National Endowment for the Arts. But on May 2, they received a termination letter, similar to many other arts organizations in Minnesota and across the country.

“It essentially said, you know, you are no longer part of the rich cultural heritage of the United States,” Johnson-Ortiz said. “A really stupid thing to say. I wasn’t surprised, with everything that’s going on at the federal level.”

The grant was terminated effective May 31, so he submitted the remainder of reimbursements for expenses incurred, along with an appeal.

Luckily, the museum was reimbursed for the full amount.

St. Paul Mayor Melvin Carter walks by "Patapez," an alebrije of a fish with feet and massive fangs, created by Alejandro Camacho Barrera. It is one of the life-size alebrijes in the exhibit “Alebrijes: Keepers of the Island,” on Raspberry Island in St. Paul. (Elizabeth Flores/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Inhabiting the island

The colorful beasts populate the island, and on an overcast weekday afternoon earlier this month, families, recent high school grads, art lovers and random passersby admired the monumental alebrijes.

Eight-year-old Riyan Vurinka wandered the urban island with his aunt Anna Seastrand, an art historian at the University of Minnesota, and his uncle Jayendra Ganta. The three marveled at the mythical beasts.

“A toad doesn’t normally have that,” Vurinka said, pointing to one of the creatures. “It has butterfly wings and it’s a toad!”

Dottie Liszka Vowles came from Waite Park, Minn., to check out the sculptures.

“Look at the coloring ― and people’s imaginations,” Vowles said. “Like I was telling that little boy over there, I said: ‘Look at that tail. That’s a snake.’ And then you look at the top and there’s a snake there. Whatever. That’s kind of cool.”

Aaron Johnson-Ortiz, executive director of the Minnesota Latino Museum, left, and artist Edgar Israel Camargo Reyes unveil his alebrije, "Pepe," a hippo. (Elizabeth Flores/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Alebrijes were first created by Mexican papier-mâché artist Pedro Linares in 1936. While sick, he experienced fever-induced hallucinations, including seeing a forest with animals that were like an amalgamation of parts from many species. In the vision, the creatures started shouting at him: “Alebrijes! Alebrijes! Alebrijes!”

These creatures are also believed to be spirit guides, with links to the Zapotec civilization and Day of the Dead celebrations.

Although the Minnesota Latino Museum brought in the alebrijes as a temporary, site-specific, outdoor project, the museum is seeking a permanent home. The location of the exhibition on Raspberry Island is in the same vicinity as the proposed location for the museum: the West Side Flats area of Harriet Island Regional Park in St. Paul.

Edgar Israel Camargo Reyes puts the finishing touches on the sculpture “Mykel,” which is a toad with wings. (Elizabeth Flores/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

The museum launched a $20 million capital campaign more than five months ago, and it has created a timeline with a projection of 2029 for final construction and ribbon-cutting.

“We’ve seen an overwhelming amount of support from the community,” Johnson-Ortiz said.

The museum is still a vision in the making, but for now the alebrijes are changing people’s relationship to the otherwise empty island.

“Alebrijes are a very special art form, but one of the things we have really noticed is that, of course, the Latino community and the Mexican community feels very happy with the exhibit ... and at the same time we’ve seen a very wide diversity of audience members,” he said.