Night print workshop San Andrés, Oaxaca · Est. 1927½

TallerCalavera

We ink the truth after dark. Skeletons arrive overdressed, the press complains in iambic couplets, and nobody leaves without dancing.

Reserve a press4 nocturnes · 8 places each Ink under the nails
laughter in the margins

Tonight’s proof composed once, never repeated

Hoja volante extraordinariaNo. 092
La Muerte Sale de Fiesta
Printed crookedly but sincerely at Calle del Suspiro 13
Deathdrawndancing
Fresh ink at midnightBring one memoryLeave with 12 printsThe dead pay in stories

What the bones know

A press for
the living.

The calavera is a mirror with better cheekbones. Since 1927½, our midnight taller has taught neighbors to carve vanities, debts, gossip, and impossible hats into honest black lines.

Each workshop begins with a story and ends with a procession. You draw a skeleton in motion, cut it into warm linoleum, set a four-line literary calavera in metal type, and pull an edition by hand. The joke must be tender. The black must be black.

“If Death cannot laugh at the mayor’s new motorcar, who can?”— Maestra Lupita “La Gubia” Reyes, keeper of the press
01Gubiafor decisive lines
02Brayerfor velvet blacks
03Typefor public mischief

Four nocturnes · 8–14 November

Choose your
night at the press.

Eight places each evening. Apron, tools, chocolate de agua, and a small pile of dubious advice included.

08NOV · FRI

The Elegant Departed

Gesture, hats, fans, and why a bent knee makes a skeleton look alive.

Maestra Inés Beltrán3 presses left
10NOV · SUN

Musicians of the Beyond

Carve guitars, trumpets, and the rhythm hiding between two black lines.

Don Aurelio Cruz5 presses left
12NOV · TUE

Gossip, Set in Lead

Compose a calavera literaria that can tease without drawing blood.

Lupita “La Gubia” Reyes2 presses left
14NOV · THU

The Family Procession

A slower all-ages night for remembered faces and very small bones.

Familia Reyes & Sons6 presses left

Doors at 19:30 · The old Chandler & Price begins complaining at 20:00 sharp.

The literary blade

Put a vanity
on the block.

Choose a local character. Our typesetter will compose a small obituary for a person who is very much alive and probably deserves it.

Proof · not yet corrected

The mayor polished both his shoes
to make his public duty gleam;
Death saw her face in either toe
and hired him for her cleaning team.

— Set in Spectral, with the “e” sorted upside down

One night · four honest acts

Cut.
Ink.
Press.
Dance.

  1. 19:30
    Borrow a memory

    Begin from someone’s walk, laugh, boots, or stubborn hat. Skeletons need specificity.

  2. 20:15
    Carve away the silence

    White is what you remove. Black is what you have the courage to leave behind.

  3. 22:10
    Wake the iron press

    Roll a skin of ink, register bone paper, and lean until the old machine sighs.

  4. 23:40
    Pin the procession

    Twelve prints dry overhead while chocolate, brass, and questionable dancing begin below.

The final impression

Leave a name.
Join the dance.

Speak a name the room should carry. We will set it beside the candlelight and give its calavera very good shoes.

Names remain only in this browser, like chalk after a procession.

La memoria también tiene compás

Don Nico
Marisol
Abuela Luz
CEMPASÚCHIL · PAN · SAL · TINTA
TC

Find the hidden door

Calle del Suspiro 13
San Andrés Huayápam, Oaxaca

Workshop nights
19:30–00:30
Sunday open press
11:00–16:00
Edition enquiries
Ask for Lupita

Follow the marigolds.
If you reach the cemetery,
you have gone exactly far enough.