PHOTOS BY DEVON VAN HOUTEN MALDONADO
By DEVON VAN HOUTEN MALDONADO
The News
On a recent Friday night, an enthusiastic crowd watched while sweat flew from masked men as they flipped through the air and threw each other to the ground with practiced athleticism and glittering comedy that dates back nearly a century.
Mexico has spread aspects of its humble culture across the globe quietly, but with determined force. One of these unique and ubiquitous cultural icons is the art of lucha libre wrestling, known internationally for its distinctive masks that cover the head and face, hiding the identity of the wrestler.
After more than 80 years of professional wrestling in Mexico City, crowds of adoring locals and curious tourists still flock to the famous Arena México four nights a week to see a spectacle that defines the nation.
“Lucha libre started here in Mexico City with influences from many places,” said Miguel Reducindo of the World Wrestling Council for Lucha Libre (CMLL). He and Hugo Monrroy are lucha experts currently working together on a book about the history of the sport.
Like most enduring expressions of culture, lucha libre (“free wrestling”) developed out of a plurality of Mexican and foreign influences. The unique hybrid of wrestling and theater began to develop during the early part of the 20th century in appropriated boxing rings, but lucha libre was formally introduced by Salvador Lutteroth González in 1933.
The former revolutionary lieutenant-turned-wrestling promoter founded the Mexican Lucha Libre Company, which turned into the World Council for Lucha Libre, but the spectacle didn’t catch on right away.
In the beginning, the Mexican Lucha Libre Company was forced to import wrestlers from the United States, which created excessive costs and failed to capture the hometown audience, Monrroy said.
Over time, more Mexican wrestlers were captivated by the sport and they adapted native supreme-beings and legends into the show. The Mexican luchadors became heroes, especially when they defeated their U.S. counterparts or unmasked their opponent in the dramatized bouts.
“The school of lucha libre not only attracted people from around Mexico, but also from the United States, Japan, Canada and every part of the world, for the fame and because Mexican lucha libre was the best in the world,” Reducino said.
In the beginning, the Mexican Lucha Libre Company was forced to import wrestlers from the United States, which created excessive costs and failed to capture the hometown audience, Monrroy said.
Over time, more Mexican wrestlers were captivated by the sport and they adapted native supreme-beings and legends into the show. The Mexican luchadors became heroes, especially when they defeated their U.S. counterparts or unmasked their opponent in the dramatized bouts.
“The school of lucha libre not only attracted people from around Mexico, but also from the United States, Japan, Canada and every part of the world, for the fame and because Mexican lucha libre was the best in the world,” Reducino said.
Lucha libre developed a unique style with signature high-flying acrobatics and fast-paced exchanges that sent the luchadors careening across the mat and off the ropes. Mexico’s entertainment wrestling turned into an art form with the technical sophistication of ballet and the brutality of its U.S. counterpart.
Lutteroth González finally succeeded in popularizing the sport, at least in part, thanks to one particular wrestler, “El Santo,” the original masked luchador who rose to international fame in the 1940s. In an incredible stroke of luck, Lutteroth won the lottery and built the first dedicated lucha libre stadium in 1943, Arena Coliseo in Mexico City.
The Coliseo eventually attracted such large crowds that every show was sold-out and it was obvious that the lucha company needed more space. Lutteroth set out to build the “largest lucha libre arena in the world,” and the new Arena México was inaugurated in 1956.
“The old Arena México (located in what is now the parking lot) held less than 5,000 people. Many times there would be more people outside than inside,” Monrroy said.
According to the lucha experts, the sport found its success in the regular working class families that couldn’t afford tickets to more exclusive sporting events. Lucha libre was a sport dedicated to the people and the families of Mexico from the beginning.
“There were already established sports in Mexico, but many times the events were for the elite,” Reducino said. “For lower-middle class Mexicans, it was very difficult to get into a sports spectacle. One of the keys for the popularization and getting established in Mexico was that access, which has allowed the league to continue for more than 80 years,” he said.
Today, Arena México is still the cultural heart of lucha libre. Luchadors call it the “cathedral” of the sport and young luchador hopefuls from around the country still flock to Mexico City for the chance to fight in the legendary ring.
Although the fights are for entertainment and the wrestlers practice choreographed acrobatics, the contact is real. Backstage after his match, “El Angelito,” an 18-year-old luchador from Veracruz, showed off bloody scratches along his back.
Lutteroth González finally succeeded in popularizing the sport, at least in part, thanks to one particular wrestler, “El Santo,” the original masked luchador who rose to international fame in the 1940s. In an incredible stroke of luck, Lutteroth won the lottery and built the first dedicated lucha libre stadium in 1943, Arena Coliseo in Mexico City.
The Coliseo eventually attracted such large crowds that every show was sold-out and it was obvious that the lucha company needed more space. Lutteroth set out to build the “largest lucha libre arena in the world,” and the new Arena México was inaugurated in 1956.
“The old Arena México (located in what is now the parking lot) held less than 5,000 people. Many times there would be more people outside than inside,” Monrroy said.
According to the lucha experts, the sport found its success in the regular working class families that couldn’t afford tickets to more exclusive sporting events. Lucha libre was a sport dedicated to the people and the families of Mexico from the beginning.
“There were already established sports in Mexico, but many times the events were for the elite,” Reducino said. “For lower-middle class Mexicans, it was very difficult to get into a sports spectacle. One of the keys for the popularization and getting established in Mexico was that access, which has allowed the league to continue for more than 80 years,” he said.
Today, Arena México is still the cultural heart of lucha libre. Luchadors call it the “cathedral” of the sport and young luchador hopefuls from around the country still flock to Mexico City for the chance to fight in the legendary ring.
Although the fights are for entertainment and the wrestlers practice choreographed acrobatics, the contact is real. Backstage after his match, “El Angelito,” an 18-year-old luchador from Veracruz, showed off bloody scratches along his back.
Angelito and his partner, “El Stukita,” 21, said they started training when they were kids. The two were introduced to the sport by their families. Handing down masks and titles from generation to generation is part of the endearing tradition of the art.
“There are various families that include four or five generations of luchadors,” Monrroy said. “There are some large families where the majority of them are wrestlers and it’s a tradition that’s passed down from generation to generation.”
The youngest luchadors—like Angelito and Stukita—fight the first match, and the experienced luchadors fight in the final event of the night. On a quiet January night, these young wrestlers demonstrated an athleticism that some of their older, more famous peers failed to embody. It was obvious watching the more seasoned luchadors that their bodies had taken a toll from their careers. Some wrestle into their 40s, Monrroy said.
“I came to Mexico for lucha, it was my dream to wrestle in the CMLL,” Angelito said.
Both wrestlers worked their way up from small local arenas to be professional luchadors in the city where it all started. Stukita, originally from Coahuila, said that he comes from a long line of luchadors.
“My grandfather was Halcon Suriano and my father is Halcon Suriano Jr.,” he said. “I have uncles who are luchadors, I have a luchadora aunt and a brother-in-law luchador.
“In Mexico, lucha libre is a very respected culture,” said Stukita. “It’s part of our culture, any Mexican you talk to will mention famous luchadors like el Santo or Blue Demon … we start training very young.”
“There are various families that include four or five generations of luchadors,” Monrroy said. “There are some large families where the majority of them are wrestlers and it’s a tradition that’s passed down from generation to generation.”
The youngest luchadors—like Angelito and Stukita—fight the first match, and the experienced luchadors fight in the final event of the night. On a quiet January night, these young wrestlers demonstrated an athleticism that some of their older, more famous peers failed to embody. It was obvious watching the more seasoned luchadors that their bodies had taken a toll from their careers. Some wrestle into their 40s, Monrroy said.
“I came to Mexico for lucha, it was my dream to wrestle in the CMLL,” Angelito said.
Both wrestlers worked their way up from small local arenas to be professional luchadors in the city where it all started. Stukita, originally from Coahuila, said that he comes from a long line of luchadors.
“My grandfather was Halcon Suriano and my father is Halcon Suriano Jr.,” he said. “I have uncles who are luchadors, I have a luchadora aunt and a brother-in-law luchador.
“In Mexico, lucha libre is a very respected culture,” said Stukita. “It’s part of our culture, any Mexican you talk to will mention famous luchadors like el Santo or Blue Demon … we start training very young.”
As an outsider looking in from a distance, it is easy to dismiss the garish showiness and aging wrestlers as ridiculous, but up close it’s apparent that lucha libre and the CMLL is a close-knit community. Paradoxically, as a space of fighting and profanity, the Arena México cradles Mexican families as their own.
“In the beginning it wasn’t so familial, but with the involvement of women and children, little by little, lucha libre became more familial and communal,” said Reducino.
With rows of eager youngsters lining up to fill the space of retiring wrestlers, the sport is here to stay. Even as crowds dwindle at the antique Arena México, bigger crowds fill stadiums in Japan, Canada and the United States. At the end of the night, lucha libre is what the audience makes it.
“In the beginning it wasn’t so familial, but with the involvement of women and children, little by little, lucha libre became more familial and communal,” said Reducino.
With rows of eager youngsters lining up to fill the space of retiring wrestlers, the sport is here to stay. Even as crowds dwindle at the antique Arena México, bigger crowds fill stadiums in Japan, Canada and the United States. At the end of the night, lucha libre is what the audience makes it.
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