CALAVERITA : FROM SAMHAIN TO 'GREÑAS' | A BOOTLEG OFFERING

By Victor 'Basura' Hernández.

So much has already been said about the entire universe of Mexican piracy. And even though most of the existing pieces have already been identified and cataloged, I feel there’s still so much dialogue, research, and thought needed about the history of this vast collection of genres and artists. So, let’s go back on a dark historical journey, using a rather peculiar vehicle: the head of the King of Pop.

It goes without saying how important the celebration of death is in Mexico. The Day of the Dead festivity is, today, much more than a tradition within the powerful Mexican identity—it's a banner with which Mexico showcases its rich and omnipresent culture to the world. However, to get to where we are now, a countless number of almost miraculous cultural assimilations and coincidences had to happen. So, the existence of a plastic ‘calaverita’ (skull) in the shape of Michael Jackson's face isn't as random as you might think.

So, how did an object like this even come to exist? To know that, we have to understand the origins of the different festivities and beliefs that shape our modern celebrations. Using the King of Pop's golden, hypnotic eyes, let's stare intently and let ourselves be pulled into the dark influence of his feline gaze. We melt into time and wake up in the distant past. Where are we? In Ireland.

PART ONE: SAMHAIN, NIGHT OF 'THRILLER'

The festival of Samhain is actually thousands of years old. Archeological data suggests it has been celebrated for over 2,000 years, with its origins found in the most ancient Celtic settlements in Ireland and what is now northern France. This festival, celebrated on October 31st, was one of the most important for Celtic culture. It not only marked the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter, but also something more special: the night of this date wasn’t like any other, because the Celts believed that on this magical night, the barrier separating the world of the living from that of the dead disappeared. Unlike the playful, mocking, and ironic relationship Mexicans have with death, the ancient Celts saw this festival as a serious reminder of the dangers of reuniting with the dead. They would light bonfires to ward them off and leave sweets and food outside their homes as an offering to appease the violent passions of wandering spirits and prevent them from causing harm. It’s at this very ancient point in history that one of the most beloved traditions of these festivities was born: the use of costumes.

Unlike the playful purpose they have today, the Celts used costumes to confuse, ward off, and protect themselves from spirits. Back then, no one was thinking of dressing up as Scream, La Catrina, John Wayne Gacy, or Vicente Fox. The Celts were only thinking of one thing: blending in. They used animal hides and heads, mainly from livestock, to transform and camouflage themselves with their environment as much as possible, and thus survive the night. Those ancient Celts could have barely imagined that something more terrifying than the wrath of spirits would strike their existence: Christianity.

Gaulois (Gauls) by Jacques Grasset de Saint-Sauveur (1757-1810) | Hand-colored engraving.

The Gauls were a main branch of the Celtic peoples, the same ones who celebrated Samhain. The animal hide clothing in the illustration echoes the custom of wearing costumes to blend in or ward off spirits, a practice central to ancient Celtic festivities.

CHRISTIAN INFLUENCE

With the arrival of Christianity throughout that area of Europe, the festivals considered "pagan" by the Catholic Church began to undergo a process of redefinition and assimilation into this new culture and belief system. To achieve this, the Church, recognizing how deeply rooted these festivities were, decided to superimpose its own celebrations onto key dates of the Celtic calendar—Samhain, of course, being one of them. This initiative was ordered by Pope Gregory III, who established November 1st as 'All Saints' Day' (known in English as "All Hallows' Eve," which over time was shortened to Halloween), a date to honor all the Church's martyrs and saints. This date was strategically chosen to coincide with the day after Samhain. In this way, the Church sought to replace the veneration of pagan spirits with that of Christian saints, without violently eliminating the original festival, but rather absorbing and transforming it, thus becoming the eve of the main Christian festival now celebrated on that date.

Later, in the Middle Ages, a practice known as "souling" emerged, where children and the poor would go from door to door offering prayers for the souls of the dead in exchange for "soul cakes" (a kind of biscuit with a cross marked on the front, each one symbolizing a soul saved from purgatory). A variant of this custom, mainly in Scotland and Ireland, was "guising," where children would dress up (often as ghosts or demons) and recite songs or poems in exchange for candy, fruit, or coins. This practice was more focused on entertainment than on religious rituals (an early nod to the distinctive character of the modern holiday).

All of these customs were eventually brought to North America by European immigrants, especially the Irish and Scots in the 19th century. However, it wasn't until the 1920s and 1930s that the tradition became massively popular. At that time, Halloween pranks became a problem in some cities, so "trick-or-treating" was promoted as an organized and safe activity for children, redirecting their energy toward something fun and less destructive. The term "trick-or-treat" became popular, giving neighbors the option to give a "treat" (a sweet) or be the target of a harmless joke ("trick"). The massive popularization of the holiday was fertile ground for corporations, who took it upon themselves to strip the holiday of any religious undertones (secularization) to turn it into a playful festivity, becoming an unprecedented commercial phenomenon that ultimately shaped how Halloween is celebrated today.

Halloween by William Stewart MacGeorge (1861-1931) | Oil on canvas painting, ca. 1911.
This painting shows a group of Scottish children dressed up and "guising."

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PART TWO: IDENTITY AS AN OFFERING

We’ve now gotten a quick overview of the origins of the modern American Halloween. Now then, how was it possible for both traditions to be assimilated in Mexico, resulting in the festivity as we know it today? To answer this, we need to understand the origin of the Mexican festival. At this point, I'm sure many of you are asking yourselves, 'and what on earth does any of this have to do with Michael Jackson?' Probably nothing, absolutely nothing. However, by the end of this journey, I hope you’ll see things from another perspective, hopefully a more interesting one. But let's not get ahead of ourselves and continue:

Hypnotized by the metallic gleam of the King's golden gaze, and in a trance once more, we slide like sand through a funnel into the deepest darkness of his dilated pupils. This time the journey throws us to the other side of the world: ancient Mexico. Day of the Dead in Mexico doesn't have a single origin; rather, it’s the result of a deep fusion of pre-Hispanic traditions with the religious customs of the Spanish colonial era. Long before the arrival of the Spanish, Mesoamerican cultures, like the Mexica, already had rituals dedicated to death. For them, death wasn't the end but a transition to a new stage (a crucial conceptual difference from the Celtic festival, which was born more out of fear of spirits from the afterlife, creating a division between 'the living' and 'the dead', 'them' and 'us').

The Mexica calendar included at least two main festivals dedicated to the dead: one for children (Miccailhuitontli) and another for adults (Huey Miccailhuitl). These celebrations lasted several weeks and were held during the summer months. Families would place offerings with food, drink, and personal items to help the soul of the deceased cross Mictlán (the underworld). It’s curious how the act of offering food to the dead is present in both ancient festivities (Celtic and Mexica). It must, without a doubt, be a universally human reasoning, feeling, and impulse. Skulls were also a central symbol, as evidenced by structures like the tzompantli, a rack of skulls that represented rebirth and the cycle of life.

Representation of a tzompantli ("skull rack"), right half of the image; associated with a representation of an Aztec temple dedicated to the deity Huitzilopochtli.
From the 1587 Aztec manuscript, the Tovar Codex.

"¿CAN YOU SPARE SOMETHING FOR MY 'CALAVERITA'?"

Religion and its influence, again. With the arrival of the Spanish, pre-Hispanic traditions merged with Catholic customs like the celebration of All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day. The strategy used was the same as with the Celtic beliefs: displace and replace, without eliminating. It's believed that the tradition of going from house to house asking for 'calaverita' (a small gift or money for a skull-shaped candy) began during the colonial era. The indigenous people, faithful to their worldview, adopted the Catholic dates for their festivities but were the ones who truly lived and carried out the fusion of both rituals. The Spanish living in Mexico at the time, however, held firm to European customs and, while aware of the indigenous traditions, didn’t participate in them.

Since the situation of the indigenous people was often precarious, it was their children and the poorest among them who, in an effort to set up dignified offerings for their dead, would go from house to house asking for alms: food, fruit, or bread, for 'the soul of their little skull'—in other words, for their departed loved one. The trade was simple and consisted of the promise to pray for the spirits of the dead in the family that was kind enough to make the Christian gesture of giving some help. The coexistence of traditions continued until they inevitably merged into a single, deeply rooted festivity. This brings us to the mid-20th century, which we can consider the birth of the modern Mexican Day of the Dead festival through the fusion of the two great traditions, Celtic and pre-Hispanic.

American culture and the Halloween holiday (with its "trick-or-treating") began to have a great influence in Mexico. Mexican children adopted elements of this celebration, such as dressing up as characters (often from Mexican tradition, like La Catrina, as well as pop culture) and the practice of asking for candy from house to house. The tradition of "pedir para la calaverita" ("asking for the little skull") was reinforced and mixed with this new dynamic but kept its name and a unique flavor that differentiates it from Halloween's "trick-or-treat." Today, "pedir calaverita" is a fusion of all these stages. The tradition is celebrated mainly on the night of October 31st and on November 1st and 2nd, and although for many the main goal is just to get candy, the rich and powerful background of the festivity continues to be a way of celebrating the life and memory of the deceased.

Photograph | Mexican children in folk-themed Mexican costumes | Credit to the author.

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PART THREE: OF TURNIPS, SUGAR AND PLASTIC

With a good amount of context now, we still need to talk about one last element, which will unify everything above and give us a broader understanding of how it was possible for millennia of Celtic and Mexica tradition, when fused, to be synthesized into a piece of plastic. While everything we've covered has helped us understand and reflect on the festivity as a concept and belief, we now need to explore the conceptual and commercial origin of the object itself. To do that, we have to go back in time, dig deep, and find these ancient objects:

CARVED TURNIPS

During Samhain, there was a traditional practice that complemented the concept of protection against wandering spirits: the carving of turnips. The early Celts began carving turnips and other large vegetables (like potatoes and beets) to turn them into lanterns during this festival. The turnips were hollowed out and carved to create a menacing face, and a light source was placed inside, such as a small glowing ember from the community bonfire or the family's hearth fire, or they could also use primitive candles made from animal tallow (livestock fat). These candles were rudimentary and offered a weaker light than modern candles, but they were a stable and safe source of illumination to place inside the turnip.

The effect of this lighting was very faint and ghostly, just enough for the eyes and mouth of the carved turnip to glow eerily in the dark. This reinforced the ritual purpose of the lantern: to ward off spirits with a light that, instead of being welcoming, was strange and threatening.

Left: Carved turnip (Ireland, 19th c., ca. 1850) National Museum of Ireland | Right: Thriller by 'Greñas'. Plastic bucket in the shape of Michael Jackson's face (Mexico, 21st c.) KIKAI Bijutsukan | Is any similarity a mere coincidence?

'STINGY JACK'

I don't know about you, but the comparison image above, to me, speaks for itself. We're getting closer and closer to a better understanding of the matter. This is not the time to stop; on the contrary: 'STINGY JACK' is a legend that originated in Ireland hundreds of years ago. It’s a folk myth passed down orally that served as the origin for the tradition of Halloween lanterns. The story goes like this:

Jack was a cunning and wicked farmer who one day met the devil. To prevent the devil from taking his soul, Jack tricked him twice: the first time, he convinced the devil to turn into a coin to pay for a drink. Once the devil transformed, Jack trapped him by putting him in his pocket next to a crucifix. He only freed him after the devil promised not to claim his soul for ten years. Ten years later, Jack tricked the devil again, convincing him to climb an apple tree. While the devil was in the tree, Jack carved a cross in the trunk, trapping him again. This time, he freed him with the promise that he would never claim his soul.

When Jack finally died, heaven wouldn't accept him due to his wicked and sinful life. When he went to hell, the devil, keeping his promise, wouldn’t let him in either. Condemned to wander the Earth in eternal darkness, the devil gave him an ember from hell to guide his way. Jack put the ember inside a hollowed-out turnip to protect the flame, thus creating his own lantern.

From this legend, the name "Jack of the Lantern" was born, which over time was shortened to "Jack-o'-lantern". Although the legend of "Stingy Jack" became popular much later and gave a name to the tradition, the practice of carving these vegetables to ward off spirits is a much older custom that is part of the very origins of the Samhain festival. So, Scottish and Irish immigrants who came to North America brought the tradition of carving turnips with them, only to find that in that part of the world, turnips weren't as abundant as pumpkins were. The immigrants realized that a pumpkin was not only easier to get but also much easier to carve due to its large size and composition.

Hallowe'en (unknown author) | Postcard art (ca. early 20th c.) | The illustration shows a parade or procession of iconic Halloween characters of the time: a witch and her black cat, a devil, and a smiling jack-o'-lantern.

SWEET DEATH OF 'ALFEÑIQUE'

In Mexico, the concept of the 'calaverita' has multiple meanings: as we already know, the word can refer to the tradition of going from house to house asking for candy. It can also refer to the beautiful custom (which, I unfortunately think is disappearing) of 'calaveritas literarias,' which are brief and humorous poetic compositions, usually in verse, "dedicated" to a living person, with Death ("la calaca" or "la huesuda") as the central concept, imagining that she takes them to the cemetery for some funny reason. And finally, the most literal and traditional meaning: the sugar skulls.

The concept of using the skull as a symbol of death, rebirth, and the cycle of life is deeply pre-Hispanic. For Mesoamerican cultures, the skull was not a symbol of sadness or terror but a reminder that death is an integral part of existence. The most powerful manifestation of this concept was the previously mentioned tzompantli, the rack of skulls of the sacrificed that were displayed as an offering to the gods. Its purpose was symbolic: it represented the tribute to the gods and the promise that death was necessary for life to continue. The skull was seen as a container of life force. The indigenous peoples already used amaranth and other seeds to create figures of deities, and there is a record that they also made edible skulls from this paste for their rituals.

Here, the great difference lies in the meaning given to that symbol. While the tzompantli was a representation of death in its most brutal and ritualistic form, the sugar skull is a sweet and tender manifestation of death, which is honored and eaten. It is a cultural re-interpretation of the skull, where the object of sacrifice becomes a festive offering, showing the Mexican vision of death as something that can be honored without fear, and even with sweetness.

Handcrafted 'alfeñique' Catrinas | Diego Rivera Mural Museum (part of the exhibition "Sacred Sugars: Sweet Rituals," presented from September to November 2017).

Although the idea of sculpting sugar figurines isn’t of indigenous origin, but Spanish. The Spanish introduced the technique of alfeñique, a paste of cooked and stretched sugar, of Arab origin. It arrived in Spain during the period of Muslim rule. The Spanish, using this technique, made sweets for their religious festivities, often in the shape of bones or figures of saints for All Saints' Day. When this tradition came to Mexico at the hands of the conquistadors, it merged with local customs, which already had a deep relationship with death and the use of skulls in their rituals. The coincidence of the ancient Mexicans' celebration of the dead with the Catholic festival of All Saints' Day facilitated this syncretism.

Battle of Guadalete by Marcelino Unceta y López (1835-1905) National Museum of Prado | Oil on canvas, 1858. | The Battle of Guadalete was a key military engagement in 711 A.D. between the army of the Visigothic kingdom and the invading forces of the Umayyad Caliphate. The Visigothic defeat in this battle marked the collapse of their kingdom and the beginning of the Muslim conquest of the Iberian Peninsula.

Left: Thriller by 'Greñas'. Plastic bucket in the shape of Michael Jackson's face (Mexico, 21st c.) KIKAI Bijutsukan | Right: Traditional Mexican sugar skull.

In the comparison image above, we can clearly see an element that stands out in both pieces, and that is the area on the forehead. The sugar skulls have this space to place the name of the person to whom it is dedicated. It can be dedicated as a mere gift, as a simple treat or souvenir for a living person, or be used for its original purpose, which is to write the name of a deceased loved one, in honor and representation of their presence, and place the skull on the family altar. Either way, if the fact that the 'Thriller' logo is written on Michael's forehead and nowhere else means anything, it's the obvious and natural "Mexicanization" of the concept. You will hardly read anything more "psychotronic" than all this today.

PERFECT FUSION 

There are no records to suggest the existence of any particular container with a specific shape or name for "asking for calaverita" in the colonial era. For that, people surely used objects they had on hand, such as wicker baskets, cloth bags, or simple clay bowls. The concept of a themed container for collecting candy is a much more recent invention, arising from the cultural and commercial syncretism of the American holiday. It’s not hard to imagine a seemingly more obvious idea than a container that would make it easier for children to collect their precious sugary loot. It was a blank canvas (or, rather, a check) for the American commercial industry of the last century.

In conclusion and summarizing all these arguments and ideas, we can say that the plastic bucket is an object that physically synthesizes a whole tradition. It takes the functionality of the object itself and gives it a name (calaverita or calavera) and an identity that firmly anchors it in the modern Mexican iconography of the Day of the Dead. It is a tangible object that represents the mix of all these traditions and, in the end, provides the noblest of services: having a place where children can carry, collect, and protect their precious candy.

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PART FOUR: THE MYSTERY OF 'GREÑAS'

Now, join me for topics more fitting for a collector. Having a deep understanding of the object as a concept, it will now seem natural, almost obvious and inevitable, that this beautiful atrocity, this extreme multicultural regurgitation, was created by the hands of a Mexican artisan-sculptor-pirate. This particular piece stands out in the Mexican bootleg universe for several reasons, the most obvious being the piece's own appearance: the misshapen and unmistakable face of the King of Pop, in the midst of lycanthropy. It is, without a doubt, an original and interesting choice for a plastic skull. Another reason is its scarcity and rarity, which have made it a cult object and a sought-after piece in the collectors' niche, since its bizarre presence is magnetic and irresistible. The piece has gained enormous popularity in recent times, attracting more and more followers and gathering tributes, both local and international, along the way (we'll talk about that later, as it's a modestly vast topic)

But, without a doubt, the feature that makes this piece unique among the rest of the pirated goods is that it is signed on the base. There is an author behind all this. A clear authorial intention that is quite curious and original within this very particular world, and even more so, considering the era in which it was made. There is no clear information about this piece, but it was presumably manufactured in the early 2000s, although some collector groups argue it was probably in the late 90s. With this purely speculative data, I took the liberty of estimating its origin between 1998 and 2002, allowing two years of 'benefit of the doubt' for each decade as a possible starting point, and I could still be wrong.

The world and scene of art toy, now very overdone and super trendy, was completely unknown territory for Westerners 25 years ago, let alone collecting as a hobby, which at the time was still relegated to the insignificant box of irrelevant hobbies. The type of figures we consider stellar today—the behind-the-scenes workers on our nostalgia projects, such as voice actors and, in this particular case, the creators and sculptors of toy lines we now consider legendary—remained in modest anonymity. They didn't attend major conventions, and their appearances, if any, were timid and hardly publicized. There were no commercial reasons at the time, and much less in Mexico, that would motivate the concern for authorial credit—and especially not for a bootleg!

It is all these facts that end up highlighting this curious feature of the piece. Today, with the entire concept of collecting completely re-evaluated and reclaimed, people are starting to pay attention and become interested in knowing the people responsible for the objects that keep them up at night. In this case, unfortunately, the identity and whereabouts of the now legendary 'Greñas' remain a complete mystery. The only thing we can do is follow the breadcrumbs he left as a trail in the wasteland of Mexican toys. Thanks to the valuable contribution of José Antonio Cabrera (Garufa), I can tell you about, and show you, a few pieces that have passed through his hands, confirmed to be the work of our beloved and admired 'Greñas.' 

Locos Adams by Greñas | Plastic skull, Mexico (ca. early 21st c.) | Photos: José Antonio Cabrera (Garufa)

Locos Adams | Wednesday by Greñas | Plastic skull, Mexico (ca. early 21st c.) | Photos: Powerx Coleccionables

Robots designed by Greñas | Plastic toys, Mexico (presumably from the early 21st c.) | Photo: José Antonio Cabrera (Garufa)

Robots designed by Greñas | Plastic toys, Mexico (presumably from the early 21st c.) | Photo: José Antonio Cabrera (Garufa)

Robot designed by Greñas | Plastic toy, Mexico (presumably from the early 21st c.) | Photos: José Antonio Cabrera (Garufa)

Robots designed by Greñas (both ends only) | Plastic toys, Mexico (presumably from the early 21st c.) | Photo: José Antonio Cabrera (Garufa)

PSYCHOTRONIC TRIBUTES

What a journey, huh! And we still have a couple more things to talk about. The gallery above, which is very interesting and delightful, tells us about a person with at least two strong thematic interests: horror and robots. Thanks to the brief conversation I had with José Antonio 'Garufa,' I learned that the robots are, in fact, completely original designs. This means our elusive friend, 'Greñas,' had a considerable knack for his craft, as these creations, while they might look a bit rough and simple, have a decent level of detail in their sculpting and are not something just anyone can make.

So far, so good and all very interesting, but this odyssey, in the end, raises more questions than it answers: When did 'Greñas' decide to sign his creations and why? Was it just a personal nod, a nod to someone else, or a rebellious detail in the hostile world of piracy where nothing belongs to anyone and everything belongs to everyone? Why don't we see modern bootlegs with his signature? Why did 'Greñas' disappear? Where is he? What happened to him? Who is 'Greñas'?!

We can't know his motivations exactly, but what is a fact is that this small detail of the signature has turned 'Greñas' into a topic worthy of cryptozoology. Because he left at least one trace, we have a thread to pull, hoping that one day, 'Greñas' will reveal himself and we can get answers to all these questions. Who knows, maybe we'll have to wait until Judgment Day. What is undeniable is the influence that 'Greñas''s work is gaining in our time. With the fertile ground that collectible objects enjoy today, tributes to the work of this cursed artist have not been long in coming from toy artists:

Thriller by Dedo Verde | Photos extracted from the artist's official Instagram account (dedo_____verde)

DEDO VERDE (MEXICO)

Locally, we have this 'knock-off' figure artist who has carried out a series of personal reinterpretations of the Michael Jackson skull. Under various sizes, styles, finishes, and lines within his own brand, he pays tribute to 'Greñas''s creation.

Photos extracted from the artist's official Instagram account (manodechangoestudio)

HÉCTOR PATIÑO (MEXICO)

 

Also locally, we have the toy artist Héctor Patiño, known in the scene as 'Mano De Chango' (Hand of the Monkey). He has also carried out a series of tributes, based on his own vision, of the Thriller skull, giving it a second life and preserving the kitschy legacy of 'Greñas.'

Photos extracted from Skullmark's official Instagram account (skullmark)

SKULLMARK (UNITED STATES)

Finally, an international tribute. The work of 'Greñas' has not only fascinated locals but also foreigners. Skullmark is a toy brand inspired mainly by Japanese and American toy traditions. Their lines have clear influences from legendary brands like Kenner and Mattel, especially the latter and its Masters Of The Universe line. In the image above, we can see three pieces that are part of their catalog: Thriller-Man, Skeleman, and Wolfman, all inspired by Mexican bootleg skulls. The influence of 'Greñas' and the Mexican toy tradition is, without a doubt, powerful.

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FINAL THOUGHTS

What a journey, right? When I decided that the next review would be about the Thriller skull, I never imagined where my curiosity would take me. This is definitely one of the longest—perhaps the longest—entries I've ever written. The most impressive thing is that we’re not even talking about a collection or a line made up of several pieces, but of a single piece. A single object has been able to transport us through a vast and rich history of cultural connections and syncretisms, which is still in development.

I have to admit that at a certain point in the research, I stopped to ask myself if this was all worth it, if it made sense to pull on a thread so long just to talk about a simple plastic skull. “Is it even related, or am I getting too sidetracked?” In the end, what motivated me to get all the way here was finding myself in awe of the topic's sheer breadth and complexity. Without fear of sounding dramatic, I can tell you that this research strengthened and revitalized aspects of my Mexican identity, which, after finishing this piece, I feel particularly proud to carry. The world of collecting, when done right, never ceases to amaze me.

So now you know, if anyone ever asks you: “What do the Mexica, Celts, Scots, Irish, Muslims, Spanish, Americans, turnips, pumpkins, skulls, and alfeñique all have in common?” I don't know if I could say, but this Michael Jackson skull might be a good place to start finding out.

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I am very grateful to those who provided me with information to enrich this text, and above all, I am grateful to those who take the time to read and appreciate it in its entirety. This little work is for you, done with great pleasure and care.

I'll sign off for today, but not before reminding you that if you're as passionate about collectibles as we are, you should definitely check out our online store, where you’ll find a beautiful selection of pieces that are sure to be very interesting and valuable for your collection. Until next time!