Lucha libre, Mexico’s beloved wrestling spectacle, is much more than athletic entertainment—it’s a symbol of culture, family, and tradition. With roots dating back to the 1860s, this sport has become an integral part of Mexican heritage, its masked warriors embodying much more than physical prowess. For many families along the U.S.-Mexico border, it’s a connection to identity, migration, and resilience. In a new exhibition titled “Borderland Masks,” Andrés Caballero, a Fulbright scholar and University of Arizona graduate student, delves into these connections by turning the lens toward the fans instead of the luchadores.
Opening at the Lionel Rombach Gallery, this exhibition showcases the lives of two families in Phoenix, Arizona, and two in Nogales, Sonora. Caballero’s work highlights the everyday realities of families who’ve found community through lucha libre. These aren’t just spectators—they’re people who have woven the sport into their cultural fabric, using it to reconnect with their Mexican heritage. As Caballero himself recalls from childhood, lucha libre represents more than just wrestling. “It’s religion, Catholicism, Indigenous heritage—all of that is represented in some way during these matches,” he said.
Picture of Andrés Caballero. (Photo by Alexis Hagestad, courtesy of Andrés Caballero )
The exhibit invites visitors into the homes of these families through immersive 360-degree photographs, showcasing their lives outside the arena. From playing soccer to hanging out in local bars, these intimate glimpses provide a window into their world. It’s not just about the matches but about what lucha libre means to these families, especially those in Phoenix, many of whom can’t return to Mexico due to immigration restrictions. For them, lucha libre becomes a symbol of roots they can’t physically visit but remain deeply connected to through the sport. As Caballero puts it, “It’s more than just a spectacle, it’s a family tradition.”
Lucha libre fans have long created vibrant communities around the sport. For families that span the border, the tradition extends beyond watching matches—it’s a cultural statement. The masks worn by luchadores are more than just costume pieces. They hide the wearer’s true identity and simultaneously reveal a larger-than-life persona. Caballero’s exhibit digs into the meaning behind these masks, not just for the wrestlers but for their followers. The families in his photographs have adopted personas of their own, choosing masks and names that represent their lucha libre heroes, a testament to how deeply ingrained this sport is in their identities.
“I think of it as a way to connect to their Mexican roots,” Caballero explained. “They’ve been here in the U.S. for 22, 23 years, and they can’t go back to Mexico because they don’t have papers. Lucha libre becomes their way of maintaining that connection.” This personal, emotional connection is evident in Caballero’s photographs, which capture the fans as vividly as the wrestlers themselves. The families he features may never step into the ring, but they carry the spirit of lucha libre in their everyday lives.
Photo by Andrés Caballero 2024
Alongside the exhibit, Caballero is working on a podcast to expand on these stories. Collaborating with the Racial Justice Studio at the University of Arizona, his podcast will focus on themes of migration, identity, and the U.S.-Mexico border, examining how these factors intersect with the world of lucha libre. The Racial Justice Studio, founded in response to the Black Lives Matter movement, highlights artistic expressions that challenge systemic racism. Caballero’s work fits neatly within this mission, as it amplifies often overlooked voices from border communities.
One of the key figures behind the Racial Justice Studio, Sama Alshaibi, emphasized how projects like Caballero’s expand the university’s reach across disciplines, saying, “We’re finding ways to use the arts to tell stories of communities that often don’t get the recognition they deserve.” This focus on border narratives, and particularly on positive community stories, shifts the usual media focus away from crisis and toward celebration of culture.
Rey Aerial with his sister in Nogales, Sonora. (Photo by Andrés Caballero 2024)
Caballero’s “Borderland Masks” exhibition isn’t just a collection of photos. It’s a call to see border communities in a new light—to acknowledge the rich cultural traditions that thrive despite political and social challenges. As Javier Duran, director of the Confluencenter for Creative Inquiry, explains, “Border communities have a lot of positive stories that don’t get told often enough. Our project aims to amplify those voices.” Caballero’s work offers a powerful counter-narrative to the often-negative portrayal of life along the border, showcasing how lucha libre provides not just entertainment, but a sense of belonging.
While the exhibition runs through the end of October, Caballero hopes its impact will last much longer. “If even a few people come in and see these photos and feel connected to the stories, that’s more than enough for me,” he said. “It’s about showing people that these communities exist, that they have rich traditions, and that they matter.”
Andrés Caballero working in his studio.
Visitors to “Borderland Masks” will find themselves immersed in the lives of families who embody the spirit of lucha libre. Beyond the high-flying moves and colorful masks lies a deep sense of identity, one that transcends the ring and reaches across generations. The exhibition will be on display at the Lionel Rombach Gallery in Tucson, Arizona, from October 22 through October 31. With additional works by Vanessa Saavedra and Ulises Ramos, the show promises a multifaceted exploration of border life through the lens of art and sport.
For those who can’t make it to the gallery, Caballero’s upcoming podcast will offer a deeper dive into the lives and stories behind these images, ensuring that the powerful voices of lucha libre fans continue to resonate well beyond the exhibition walls.
