Interview with Roger Baena: The Mummies of Guanajuato Mask and the Art of Mask-Making
Interviewer: Roger, could you walk us through how you made your latest mask?
Roger Baena: Sure! To create the mask, I started with an arbiter base, and everything was hand-sculpted using polymer clay. I used custom loop tools, saw blade tools, and even solvents to smooth out the clay—everything I needed to get the details just right.
When it was finished, I molded and cast it out of latex so it’s wearable. But that’s not the only option! It could also be foam-filled to make it a display piece for a wall or even an art installation with a black backing.
There are so many possibilities. I offer a couple of customizable options, but not too many. Some customizations take a lot of time, and I have to be mindful of efficiency. These aren’t mass-produced; they’re made-to-order, and every piece is unique.
When it was finished, I molded and cast it out of latex so it’s wearable. But that’s not the only option! It could also be foam-filled to make it a display piece for a wall or even an art installation with a black backing.
There are so many possibilities. I offer a couple of customizable options, but not too many. Some customizations take a lot of time, and I have to be mindful of efficiency. These aren’t mass-produced; they’re made-to-order, and every piece is unique.
Interviewer: How big is the mask compared to your face?
Roger Baena: All my masks are molded over my face. I have this epoxy mold of my face that I made for myself. It was really expensive to make, but it’s super durable and has been worth it. So, yeah, the masks are pretty much my size, but they’re flared out a bit for a more universal fit.
My head’s on the larger side, so it works for most people. Right now, it’s not rigged with straps, but I can add those if someone wants to wear it. Some people just want them as altar pieces or to hang on a wall, and that works great, too.
My head’s on the larger side, so it works for most people. Right now, it’s not rigged with straps, but I can add those if someone wants to wear it. Some people just want them as altar pieces or to hang on a wall, and that works great, too.
Interviewer: For example, could someone request it made out of hard plastic?
Roger Baena: Oh, totally. I’ve thought about making them out of hard plastic or resin. That would take it to another level. It’s a completely different process, though, and it’d cost a lot more—like $1,000 for something really custom.
It depends on what someone wants. More or less, if someone reaches out to me with an idea, we can figure it out. I’m always open to hearing what people want.
It depends on what someone wants. More or less, if someone reaches out to me with an idea, we can figure it out. I’m always open to hearing what people want.
Interviewer: Why did you create this mask? What inspired it?
Roger Baena: The Mummies of Guanajuato have always been a huge inspiration for me. I remember seeing them as a kid in history books, and it was the first time I saw death represented so vividly. It stuck with me. I’ve always felt connected to the idea of death and life and my indigenous roots. The Maya have this incredible perspective on death—it’s not just an end but part of the cycle of life. They had sacrificial ceremonies, celebrations of death, and ways of accepting it as natural. That’s always been fascinating to me, and it influences a lot of my work.
Interviewer: Does your Guatemalan heritage influence your art?
Roger Baena: Absolutely. My mom’s from Guatemala, and I was born here in Los Angeles. I’ve been to Guatemala a few times, but I haven’t visited the specific area my family’s from. It’s in the northern part of Guatemala, near Mexico, and it’s mostly farmland. It’s also incredibly hot.
Growing up, my mom and grandma spoke this women-only dialect called Audi Wanza. (Editor’s Note: The spelling of this dialect’s name may be incorrect, as it could not be verified in existing records.) They used it to gossip and talk without men understanding them. I never learned it, but hearing it as a kid made me curious about my heritage. That curiosity is a big reason why I explore these themes in my work.
Growing up, my mom and grandma spoke this women-only dialect called Audi Wanza. (Editor’s Note: The spelling of this dialect’s name may be incorrect, as it could not be verified in existing records.) They used it to gossip and talk without men understanding them. I never learned it, but hearing it as a kid made me curious about my heritage. That curiosity is a big reason why I explore these themes in my work.
Interviewer: That’s amazing. About the Mummies of Guanajuato, are they still on display?
Roger Baena: Yeah, they are I think. They were even in the opening sequence of Werner Herzog’s 1979 remake of Nosferatu. That movie’s portrayal of death is so interesting to me—it’s influenced by European occult traditions. Nosferatu is tied to plague and pestilence, and it’s such a different concept of death compared to what I grew up with. In European history, death as a figure really became prominent during the Black Plague. Before that, there wasn’t this unified concept of death as a character or force. It’s wild to think about.
Interviewer: Death as a figure in European history really emerged during the Black Plague. Before that, there wasn’t this unified concept of death like we see later on. It’s wild to think about. Did that inspire the mask you’re working on now?
Roger Baena: For sure. After finishing the mummy mask, I started on a Nosferatu-inspired mask. They kind of influenced each other. I’ve been working on this one since early 2024, and I just finished it. It’s interesting because I started this mask right after watching the Nosferatu remake. That movie had such an impact on me—the way it represents death as a force of nature rather than just a personification. In the movie, Nosferatu is this carrier of plague and death, and it’s so tied to that European view of death. It’s so different from the Maya perspective I connect with. I wanted to capture that contrast in the mask—this tension between different cultural ideas of death. Seeing these themes come to life in my work has been really fulfilling.