S.A. artists’ Beacon Hill ‘loft’ contains feast of art, ideas

Opening a lower cabinet door in his kitchen, Rolando Briseño points out stacks of plates in vibrant colors and designs, most handmade in Mexico.

“We have multiple sets of tableware,” he said, “and I think we have something like 37 wine glasses.”

Briseño and Angel Rodriguez-Diaz, his partner of 25 years and his husband since a 2014 Manhattan ceremony, live in a section of a corner commercial center in Beacon Hill and have long been known for their lavish, legendary dinner parties.

“For me, Rolando and Angel’s San Anto casota conjures the ghosts of their old loft in Brooklyn, said author and filmmaker John Phillip Santos. “Their homes always have been salons for artists, writers and thinkers testing the boundaries of creative expression, with their brilliant work and the work of kindred artists on all the walls. For them, home is a setting for grand dinners and spirited conversation — until the table is cleared away and the dancing begins.”

“Ahhh,” Briseño said sadly, “those days are gone. I’m too old. I don’t even drink anymore.”

The celebrations may have been cut back due to age — Briseño is 65, Rodriguez-Díaz is 60 — and accompanying health issues, but their “loft” retains an aroma of cumin, industrial edginess and good times.

“We’re still really into food, really good food,” Briseño said. “We just eat out a lot more.”

Food long has been a major preoccupation of Briseño’s — in his kitchen and in his art.

A circular “tablescape” painting over the kitchen sink depicts a dining table set with plates, a roasted chicken as its centerpiece — and boxing gloves at the settings.

For the artist, the table is a place for nourishment of the body and the soul, a cultural exchange and a battleground for issues such as class, race and sexual orientation. Briseño has used actual tablecloths as canvas, mixed spices such as chili powder into his paint.

“The table is a community center,” he said. “I grew up on the West Side eating three meals a day around the table. It’s a family ritual, a gathering place.”

A big, round poplar table dominates the main living space of the home; it was used as the base for “Spinning San Antonio,” the public sculptural work that depicts a Catholic priest standing atop the Alamo. It spins so that one or the other image is right side up and has been used in performances at the downtown mission to bring light to what Briseño calls the “spinning” of the narrative of the Alamo.

“It has been transformed into a shrine that legitimates the class structure of Texas,” he said.

The controversial piece is just a few steps away in Briseño’s art studio, standing dormant for the time being. Adjacent to it is a 20-year-old University of Texas Tower constructed entirely of sculpted fried corn tortillas.

His art — as well as Rodriguez-Díaz’s stunning portraits, many of them politically charged — dominates the home, along with works by those “kindred artists” that Santos mentioned, among them César Martínez, Henry Stein, Vincent Valdez, Alex Rubio, Leticia Huerta, Kathy Vargas, Trish Simonite, Ricky Armendariz and the late Regis Shephard.

“Like most collectors, they collect work that speaks to them,” said San Antonio artist Jenelle Esparza. “There is a lot of work involving the body, lots of nudes, mostly male. If you look in the bathroom, you'll find the bulk of their collection of ceremonial masks from different regions of Mexico or South America. … It’s a pretty diverse collection, and many of the artists are their personal friends. It’s truly an artist’s home.”

San Antonio native Briseño and Rodriguez-Díaz, a native of Puerto Rico, met in New York in 1991. By 1994, Briseño wanted to move back home.

“I asked Angel if he would consider moving to San Antonio and he initially said, ‘Are you kidding?’”

They bought the 1930 L-shaped Spanish Colonial Revival — “I call it Mexican Deco,” Briseño says — commercial center in 1995.

With white stucco walls, green wood trim and a red tile roof, it originally was a grocery story and produce market; more recently, it housed a deer processing operation.

Briseño and Rodriguez-Díaz live in what used to be a big refrigerator to store deer carcasses, with concrete floors, terracotta brick walls and a cork ceiling — since removed to reveal an abstract pattern where the glue stuck better in some places than others. It looks as if someone put out a fire on the ceiling.

“We worked on this place — I’m not kidding — for a solid year, seven days a week, 12 hours a day,” Briseño said.

The overall feel is Mexican industrial, with art everywhere. Both artists wanted what is now their living space for his own studio; they compromised and decided to make it into a couple of bedrooms, a living/dining room, kitchen and office, with a large gallery/studio space for Briseño facing a park, now a green urban island that the artist said “used to look like Laredo.”

Rodriguez-Díaz, whose best known public work is “The Beacon,” a 28-foot metal obelisk sculpture that stands in the roundabout at Blanco Road and Fulton Street, has a studio down the street.

Rodriguez-Díaz is also responsible for the enclosed patio and garden out back of his home, a favorite sunning spot for 15-year-old Chihuahua Xochitl and her running buddy, an 8-year-old Chihuahua/pug mix named Chacho.

“My favorite part of the house is the garden area,” said artist Esparza. “Angel keeps it like a jungle because it reminds him of his tropical origins in Puerto Rico. They’ve got some great plants back there; all the animals and birds love it because it’s closed off and somewhat protected.”

Off of a large entry hall painted glorious marigold orange is what Briseño calls “the spiritual center.” It’s a wall of art objects, an altar, including santos and masks from all over the world, as well as family photos of their ancestors.

“We’re both atheists, but still … it’s spiritual,” Briseño said.

The rest of the complex is rented out to tenants including a barber, doctor and a tattoo artist.

“When they moved into my grandmother’s old neighborhood off Fredericksburg Road, the Deco District was neglected, even dismissed,” Santos said. “They brought new creative energy to a historic strip that today runs the gamut from a tamale joint and art gallery to a theater company and artist studios. That’s the kind of rehabilitation our great old San Antonio neighborhoods deserve.”

sbennett@express-news.net