“Before speaking of any family legacy, brothers Alejandro and José de los Santos Pertuz say their real teacher was their older brother, José Antonio—a man who always preferred to stay in the background, far from the praise. Still, they honor him, calling him the most talented member of their family. Alongside nearly fifty of their relatives, they’ve devoted almost half a century to the tradition of soapstone carving—one of the icons of Santa Marta’s crafts.

The Pertuz name is tied to the María Eugenia neighborhood, once known as La Candelaria, after the church that graces it. It was renamed in honor of the daughter of President Gustavo Rojas Pinilla in the late 1960s. The family arrived there in search of a better life, migrating from the nearby town of Pivijay. There, they met José Manuel Pabón, who is believed to have been the first to work this soft, marble-like stone. It was he who taught them to sculpt the gentle material.

Alejandro recalls the 1970s, when he would climb the mountains with his father, learning to spot the best pieces—carrying heavy loads down the slopes on their backs. He remembers how he learned to read the veins of the stone, and to recognize the ones that seemed soft but hid a hardness that made them impossible to carve. That knowledge came from experience and a keen eye.

They didn’t inherit the craft—it was born of necessity. Back then, Santa Marta’s bay was teeming with tourists, many arriving on ships loaded with foreign travelers hungry for souvenirs. They wanted to bring back home something from the beautiful beaches and their choice location close to the Sierra. José de los Santos also recalls the bonanza years of marijuana trafficking, when money flowed freely, and work was abundant.

At first, they made pre-Columbian replicas—chiefs, fertility frogs, owls of wisdom—that appealed to those seeking an “authentic” piece of the region. But soon, as the market tired of repetition, they expanded into novel animal figures—local birds, turtles, parrots, macaws, toucans. Then, with the help of a design advisor from Artesanías de Colombia in the 1990s, they ventured into utilitarian objects: vases and containers made of stone. Also, they began polishing the stone—using sandpaper from grade 80 to 1000 and shoe polish—to make their wares gleam like marble.

Today, after over four decades in the trade, the entire Pertuz family continues working with soapstone and passing the craft to their children. They now use the stones they bring from Yarumal, Antioquia—not because Santa Marta lacks it, but because the mountains have been privatized amid the region’s rush toward real estate and tourism. Still, they persist, and the tradition lives on, one that has allowed a lineage to flourish.”