For more than half a century, Día de los Muertos has served as an expression of cultural identity and political resistance in San Francisco.
In the 1970s, Chicano artists René Yañez and Ralph Maradiaga helped bring the Mexican tradition into the city’s cultural life through exhibitions and processions organized at Galería de la Raza in the Mission District.
For artist and curator Rio Yañez the tradition is also an inheritance. Born and raised in the Mission, he grew up surrounded by the altars, artists and activism that shaped his father’s Día de los Muertos exhibitions, and by the work of his equally legendary mother, the artist Yolanda Lopez.
In 2005, Rio began working alongside René at SOMArts Cultural Center, eventually becoming René’s curatorial partner. Following his father’s death in 2018, Rio continued the tradition by bringing in new co-curators, most recently the artist Bridgétt Rex.
Now in its 27th year at SOMArts, the exhibition returns with In Their Name: Día de los Muertos 2026, a collection of artworks honoring mothers and mother figures. The exhibition explores how acts of care shape communities and connect the living to the dead.
Yañez spoke about legacy, the many meanings of motherhood and how it all points back to the San Francisco he hopes to preserve.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Mission Local: What did you learn from your father about Día de los Muertos, and how did you become involved in curating the exhibition?
Rio Yañez: I was very lucky to grow up in San Francisco’s Mission District. My dad was one of the co-founders of Galería de la Raza, and he was part of some of the very first Day of the Dead art exhibits in the Bay Area. He was interested in the altar as a creative practice, as a way of honoring the dead, celebrating the lives of those who have passed, making political statements and doing it as artists.
I grew up with a family altar in our small apartment in the Mission. It was always a very important practice in our family, something very personal. But I also got to see my dad create altars as art installations, including very conceptual and abstract interpretations of what an altar could be.
I started working with him on the show in 2005 as his assistant and apprentice. It took a few years for him to really trust me as a collaborator. But when we did collaborate, we had an amazing creative partnership. We produced at least 10 exhibitions together.
ML: How has your collaboration with Bridgétt Rex carried that legacy forward?
RY: My dad was always intentional about having a mixture of elder artists and young artists. One reason he wanted to work with me was that I had connections to younger artists in the Bay Area. Together, we cultivated a multigenerational family of artists.
Bridgett brings a different perspective. She’s younger than I am, and she’s part of a different arts community in the Sacramento area. But we’re very much aligned in seeing the exhibition as an opportunity to respond to what’s happening in the world.

ML: Why did you decide to focus this year’s exhibition on mothers?
RY: The exhibition is a response to the cultural reckoning we’re having with our societal treatment of women.
Honoring mother figures felt like a very accessible way to respond to that. We’re thinking about the multitude of what that means, whether it’s birth mothers, grandmothers, house mothers or mentors.
ML: The exhibition takes an expansive view of mothering, including chosen families, queer elders and drag mothers. Why was that important?
RY: It’s a reflection of the values we’re fighting for in San Francisco.
Growing up here during the peak of the AIDS crisis, I remember seeing altars for friends and community members who had passed away. That was profound to me — that San Francisco’s organizations and art spaces made room for that at a time when there was so much fear and misunderstanding around AIDS.
I was raised by my mom, but I was also raised in a community of really fierce lesbian artists, queer artists and trans artists.That’s the legacy I feel I’m upholding.

ML: How will visitors see those ideas expressed in the artwork?
RY: Visitors will see everything from very traditional altars to art installations that function as altars in their own special way.
We have a collective recreating a city street corner, with a wall full of street art, as a space people can step into. Another collective is creating a back porch patio that functions as an altar but also invites you into the space.
We’re also dedicating an altar to [artist Tosha Stimage] who participated in the exhibition several times and passed away this past year.
I want people to experience both the beauty and power of traditional Día de los Muertos altars rooted in Mexican cultural practices, and these installations that take on very different forms.
ML: You’ve described the exhibition as a reflection of the San Francisco you’re fighting to preserve. What does that San Francisco look like?
RY: It’s a San Francisco that’s affordable, that takes care of and supports working-class people. That’s safe and welcoming for immigrants, queer folks, trans folks and women.
It’s a diverse San Francisco. An empathetic San Francisco.
The financial and cultural landscape is very tumultuous right now. There’s a tug-of-war happening. I have enough memory of pre-tech-boom San Francisco to know what’s at stake and what we’re fighting for.
ML: We tend to think of remembrance as looking backward. Can Día de los Muertos also help us imagine the future?
RY: An altar is about honoring someone and giving them offerings to take into the next world. But as art installations, they’re also asking: What knowledge, what information, what understanding of the world can we take with us? It’s very future-facing in that way.
In Their Name: Día de los Muertos 2026 is on view Oct. 24 to Nov. 20 at SOMArts Cultural Center in San Francisco. The opening reception is Friday, October 23, from 6–9 p.m. A Día de los Muertos Drag Show and closing reception takes place November 20, from 6–9 p.m.

