On a sunlit street corner in Santa María la Ribera, Mexico City, artist Clotilde Jiménez sits opposite me at a small table outside his local coffee shop. He orders a black coffee and begins to tell me how life in the Mexican capital has shaped his multidisciplinary work – that is, until bin collectors pass by, ringing bells to signal their arrival, which is followed by a van rolling slowly down the street with a giant megaphone calling out for scrap metal and old appliances. “Sorry,” Clotilde says with a laugh, nodding to the daily rhythms of his neighbourhood. “You’re really getting the full local experience right now. It’s never quiet in Mexico City.”
It is this vibrant energy – blended with Clotilde’s own Puerto Rican heritage and his experience of living between countries – that informs his bold collages, sculptures and textile works, which explore identity, social politics and cultural memory through a distinctly personal lens.
“My Puerto Rican identity is highlighted a lot in Mexico. People clock me as Latino immediately,” says the artist, who grew up in Honolulu and Los Angeles before moving to London, where he completed an MFA at Slade School of Fine Art, later building on his practice in New York. “My Caribbean accent in Spanish often sparks a curiosity,” he continues, referencing life since he moved to Mexico City with his wife (who is from here) and their young daughter. “It’s not malicious but it definitely makes me aware, and that comes out in my work, especially around racial politics in Latin America. I’ve started blending my roots – Philadelphia, Puerto Rico, the Caribbean, African diaspora – into a sort of Mexican framework.” From the passion in his voice, it’s clear that Mexico City has become both home and creative fuel.
And so has the country’s history and deep-rooted traditions. Clotilde references The Grotto, the opera he wrote and produced in 2024, which was based on an experience his wife shared with him from her childhood. While growing up in the rural village of La Garra, Guerrero (southeast of the city), she describes encountering a chaneque (figures from Nahuatl mythology described as mischievous forest protectors created by the rain god) with her cousins. Clotilde rooted his opera in this story – in his plot, “a child plays with one, they disappear for seven years, returns unchanged, is seen as cursed by the local villagers and is exiled to the US,” he says.

“I’d wanted to do an opera for years. I learned everything from scratch and wrote the story – synopsis, libretto, basic melodies on piano. I then collaborated with a Mexican composer for arrangements, dancers, choreographer, singers – soprano, baritone, a children’s choir as the chaneques – costume studios,” says Clotilde. “We had a small budget and everything was done in 11 months. I couldn’t have pulled it off anywhere else; Mexico City fuelled the inspiration. [There was] access to talent, everyone is open to collaborating and there is a real sense that magic still happens here.”
We finish our coffees and take a walk through the wide, tree-lined streets towards his studio, where Clotilde shows me what he’s currently working on. The space sits inside an old, worn secondary school building, where only one class of children is still being taught; the rest of the rooms have been taken over by independent artists. The corridors feel heavy with their own history, adding to the sense that this city thrives on the creativity of the people who live and work here. From the days of Frida Kahlo to now, Mexico City’s art scene has always been a core part of its identity and Clotilde’s work feels like a continuation of that legacy.
When we finally sit down inside his studio, he begins to share some of his favourite places – those that shape his outlook, inspire his creativity and provides spaces for him to come together with those he loves most. Discover Clotilde Jiménez’s carefully curated guide to Mexico City – both his local neighbourhood and beyond – here…

I spend with my wife and our four-year-old daughter. That time is really dedicated to her. We usually go to parks around the city or spend time in Santa María la Ribera, where we live, especially around the Kiosko Morisco (an ornate 19th-century Moorish pavilion in the heart of Alameda de Santa María de la Ribera park). It’s a very local environment with families, kids playing and people moving through the neighbourhood. Weekends for me are about slowing down and being present as a dad.
Is Uroboros (where we met for a drink). From there, you can explore the local area – walking from Santa María la Ribera towards San Rafael, where you’ll eventually reach Paseo de la Reforma. The walk takes you through different layers of the city: old residential streets, small shops, cafes and local businesses.
Is the Mercado de Bugambilia in Santa María la Ribera. There are stalls with barbacoa tacos, seafood empanadas, juice stands and small fondas [family canteens]. It’s everyday neighbourhood food and that’s what I enjoy. There is also a brilliant little ramen spot called Jametaro, which we always love to go to.
First, is the Anahuacalli Museum. The architecture and the personal pre-Hispanic collection assembled by Diego Rivera create a powerful atmosphere where art, history and mythology intersect. Another important place for me is the Museo Mural Diego Rivera, which houses Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Central. Revisiting Rivera’s work from within Mexico has influenced how I think about composition and narrative in my own work.

Tlalpan in the southern part of the city. It used to be its own town before becoming part of Mexico City and still feels like a small village. Early mornings there are especially nice: coffee, breakfast, quiet streets and parks. It’s also the southern gateway out of the city towards places like Cuernavaca and smaller villages such as Malinalco. Mexico City reveals itself through everyday life. Spending time in those spaces and integrating with people is the best way to understand the rhythm of the city.
La Docena. They have excellent oysters, seafood and tostadas. It’s a great place to sit down, eat well and catch up.

Museo Jumex – it consistently presents strong international exhibitions. Another cultural hub is Mariane Ibrahim Gallery, which combines exhibitions with a carefully curated bookstore focused on thinkers and artists from across Latin America and the African diaspora.
Bar San Luis in Roma Norte. As someone who is Puerto Rican-American, I’m particular about salsa and this place feels authentic. It has a classic salsa club atmosphere – great music, simple menus, a real dance floor and a mix of classic and newer tracks.
Every now and then Mariane Ibrahim Gallery also hosts La Sala with DJs Mahdi and Darryl – two of the best music and art personalities in Mexico City. Those events usually run late and bring together a great crowd.

















