Zona Maco is a real heavyweight champion of the art world, and Mexico’s underground scene is cashing the check. This Mexico City fair doesn’t just break trends; it bulldozes them, leaving critics clutching their pearls and collectors maxing out their Amexes. There's no denying that this annual event has earned its reputation as the Super Bowl of the art world in Mexico. But where did this whole art extravaganza come from and why has this art fair become such a pivotal event on the global stage?
If you've never heard of Zona Maco, let me enlighten you. It's an annual art fair that takes place in Mexico City, and it’s like nothing you've ever seen before. It's not just an art show—it's a phenomenon. Artists, collectors, and connoisseurs from around the world flock to this event, and it has become a must-see on the international art circuit. Zona Maco's story is actually pretty interesting, even if you're not a huge art buff.
The story of Zona Maco begins in Monterrey in 1997, where the ambitious and determined Zelika Garcia Ortiz, a then-24-year-old powerhouse with a law degree, zero connections, and a burn-it-all-down attitude, had a vision. She got her inspiration after visiting the soon to be defunct Expo Arte Guadalajara, and FINARTE, a large art and antiques fair held in Monterrey in 1997 that ended in San Miguel de Allende in 2004. Zelika started what was initially an event exclusively for the showcase of fine art called MUESTRA 001 in 2002. This first iteration which showcased a handful of local galleries at the Cintermex Convention center, culminated with a Mexican Wrestling match of all things. Although the event drew in small crowds, it set the seed in Garcia's mind about the potential it could have, and her sights were set much higher. At the end of the event critics sneered and galleries ghosted. But García? She doubled down.
The very next year she took the fair to the World Trade Center in Mexico City for MUESTRA 002 where participation doubled to almost 40 local galleries. While trying to establish connections for her next event, Zelika met Enrique Rubio Dosamantes, art collector, impresario and owner of "Spot" magazine. Enrique, son of a famous actress and brother of Paulina, sometimes called the "Mexican Madonna", became enthralled with the beautiful and recently divorced event planner and immediately started courting her. After a few months their relationship blossomed to where Garcia Ortiz and her son moved into Enrique's home in Polanco in 2004. They also joined forces economically as they shelved MUESTRA and rebranded the event to MACO México de Arte Contemporáneo, with Rubio becoming a funding partner for the project.
García slashed traditional gallery quotas, prioritized international heavyweights over local darlings, and allegedly blackballed anyone who questioned her vision. Detractors called her ruthless. The 2004 event had 42 galleries participating and was considered a mild success. MACO was held at Expo Reforma until 2006 and Residencial Palmas Parque in 2007 which provided many challenges as it was still under construction, but the real telenovela was just about to start.
Love, Betrayal, and Art: The Explosive Split That Nearly Torched Mexico’s Hottest Fair
By 2007, Zelika and Enrique, one of Quien Magazine's "Top 10 Most Attractive Couples" saw cracks emerge in their relationship. Tensions over control of MACO turned their shared apartment into a warzone. That October, Enrique moved out, crashing at hotels and his mom Susana Dosamantes’ home. Yet, somehow, the exes pulled off MACO’s 2008 edition. “We smiled for cameras, but it was a facade,” Rubio says. Once the fair ended, Zélika went no-contact.
Then came the bombshell. Zélika called a shareholder meeting, dissolved MACO’s parent company, and transferred its assets to her new venture, Cultura y Arte Contemporáneo Zeta S.A. While some people have been critical of the move, citing that She did it illegally, bypassing the 15-day notice rule they had set, others applauded Garcia's in-it-to-win-it attitude in a culture where women rarely get to have an upper hand. “I asked him to sell me his stake. He wanted money for something that cost him nothing,” she told The Art Newspaper. Enrique fired back with a lawsuit: “I felt betrayed. This wasn’t the woman I loved.” He insisted he wasn’t after MACO—just fairness. “She’s smart, but poorly advised,” he shrugged, clinging to a shred of respect.
The fallout was nuclear. Galleries panicked. Collectors side-eyed. Because of legal issues with the lawsuit, MACO was rebranded as ZⓈONA MACO (yes, with the weird Ⓢ). Why? “Symbols make people curious,” she later smirked. The 2009 reboot under Zélika’s solo leadership felt like a phoenix rising from legal ashes—but not without scars. “Mixing love and business? Never again,” Rubio vowed, retreating to focus on Spot and a quieter life in Condesa. Every year after that the fair became stronger and by 2010, with 96 international galleries and over 900 participating artists, Zona Maco was the hottest ticket south of Miami.
MACO’s saga proves even the messiest breakups can’t kill true ambition. Garcia's ruthlessness and unrelenting drive transformed Zona Maco into the powerhouse it is today. Purists accused García of selling out. She fired back by tripling ticket prices and landing blue-chip galleries like Gagosian and David Zwirner. “You want ‘local’? Go to a mercado,” she famously told ARTnews. Savage? Absolutely. Effective? By 2025, Zona Maco’s economic impact is projected to hit $50M with over 200 galleries from 29 countries. The fair has become a barometer of trends in the art world, and attending Zona Maco is almost a rite of passage for anyone serious about art.
