Mexican Muralism
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Mexican Muralism
Whenever Mexican muralism is mentioned, we focus on the post-Revolutionary vein of the practice wherein the artists used political ideals as the driving force for their paintings, backed by state funding and stimulated by international intellectual exchange with some of the main personalities and thinkers of the time. This school of painting is a good example of syncretism between technique and ideology and is a valid reflection of Mexican culture during its time. As all historians know, when we attempt to study the past, we are studying it outside of its context and inevitably run into many problems. When looking at muralism, some of the problems we come across are:
1) Mural painting— as understood at the time— is an anachronistic way of mirroring culture because it was based on an attempt to circumvent illiteracy and educate through the use of public art. We now know that this is not possible to the degree they hoped their murals to attain as educational tools. It failed in this sense because of two main reasons: 1. Interpretation of a painting is widely varied and dependent on experience/education, 2. It was utilized as a tool for political indoctrination and became increasingly associated to communism. In the end, it was this fact that caused a black-balling from the government of the United States and their intelligence agencies— who would ultimately play a major role in the movement’s undoing.
2) The influence that European culture had on the artists who championed the ideals of the movement is often overlooked: Diego Rivera had been in Europe for 14 years before he made his first attempts at depicting Mexican traditions in his pictures, and Siqueiros had been experiencing political turmoil in Europe for 3 years before shifting his production toward the national effort. These experiences are commonly glossed over by Mexican nationalists due to their love-hate relationship with European and Anglo-Saxon cultures. These conflicts have their origins in colonialism and in the political turmoil between Mexico and the United States of America during their conflicts over land. There is much resentment that shows itself through rejection and results in a lack of objectivity.
3) Gerardo Murillo (Dr. Atl) had already been commissioned to paint murals by the government before the Vasconcelos Initiative began. It is generally due to a single focus on this initiative that the efforts to retain and integrate Mesoamerican aesthetics into the artistic production of the time are overlooked. Due to Murillo’s clear European influence, his murals seem to be glossed over and only his easel painting is popular.
4) The first instance of post-Revolutionary muralism as we know it can be credited to a French artist by the name of Jean Charlot. He had been heavily influenced by Mesoamerican aesthetics as a child and was able to translate these influences into stunning examples of painting, auguring the explosion of creativity that was to result from a focus on the past. Many academics and artists in Mexico find the idea of a French artist preceding the Mexicans in social muralism uncomfortable and do not give him the recognition he is due. It is sad to see the state of the arts and culture in the country. As a Mexican, I would hope for art to overcome these issues but it seems that pettiness is more easily ingrained and disseminated than intense and careful thought. This short piece is, in part, a response to this.
These are of course not the only issues, but they appear to be some of the most systemic problems facing objective thinking. Once they are acknowledged, we can attempt to objectively define a continuity for the historical progression of art in what is now called Mexico. This will clarify the progression of the aesthetic principles that ultimately led to the muralism we all talk about. Therefore, if we are to understand the resulting post-Revolutionary muralist movement, Mesoamerican artistic expression must first be mentioned, however briefly. I will not delve into the architectural differences between cultures because: 1. My specialty is painting, and 2. It would turn an essay into a book and that is not my current purpose.
Let us begin with the Pre-Classic period, during which the only examples of mural painting— that we know of— are in Cholula and Cuicuilco. They had very linear conceptions of image-making: everything was narrative and was probably created for didactic or historical record purposes. The murals followed a basic frieze composition which read from left to right and displayed only the most basic grasp of the possibilities offered by pictorial language. They seem to have been solely concerned with immediate expression, nothing in the composition or the articulation of images and color was overly complicated. The use of color was basic, only displaying the colors— generally oxides— which were readily available in the surrounding areas. This use of oxides was to define an aesthetic convention which carried on until modern-day art and which is on display in the work of many contemporary artists without them seeming to know where these conventions originated— but that is a topic for a different paper. There was no access to a broader range of pigments— other than the local supply— until the establishment of empires and the development of trade routes between them. At their best, cultures during the pre-Classic had knowledge of fresco painting and adorned their buildings with a mixture of fresco and tempera painting, using only their limited set of available colors.
Once we skip to the Classic period, an explosion of arts greets us. Artistic expression, culture, and trade suddenly accelerated in their development throughout Mesoamerica, marking this as an era of rapid growth for all its cultures. Within the Mayan empire, Bonampak— in Chiapas— is a good example of this surge. It still exhibited a frieze format in its mural painting but the scale of the works grew to occupy every last corner of the rooms and enveloping the viewers in works of art. The pieces now surrounded the viewers instead of only engaging them linearly. Style also changed and was now defined by a stacked composition that established hierarchy by the use of vertical levels of significance: the lower friezes were less important— or more earthly— while the upper compositions were reserved for preeminent individuals. Finally, the uppermost sections were reserved exclusively for deities. The geometrical structuring of these new compositions now responded to the spaces they occupied— and to their architectural specificities— resulting in a richer visual language. Access to a wider array of minerals allowed for the introduction of blue and green into the preexisting palette of ochre, red, and black. These developments, in tandem with the refinement of specialized thought, led to the depiction of figures in a more naturalistic manner and in more complex arrangements within the picture plane. It was a process similar to that in Crete: every time I look at the Bonampak murals, I am reminded of the frescoes painted during the Minoan era. The conception of figures and the use of color have clear parallels between both cultures. Although they were active two millennia apart, they exhibit very similar patterns of development when looked at through the lens of aesthetic conventions.
During the Classical era, el Tajín was the culture that least refined its painting. Its focus seemed to be on construction, astronomy, and mathematics, demonstrating great sophistication in its use of columns and bass-reliefs as compositional elements within the structural foundations of edifices. It was among the most advanced cultures in the study of mathematics and astronomy, both of which it applied to its complex architecture: some of its buildings are believed to have functioned as clocks, calendars, and places of worship. Monte Albán and Cacaxtla exhibited similar compositional patterns, emphasizing centralized compositions with elements of decreasing importance falling away from the center. Both cultures show less refinement in their architecture than El Tajín, likely due to the more limited resources in the area— a problem foreign to Veracruz (El Tajín) and Chiapas (Bonampak). It is probable that limited access to resources played an important role in the development of these pragmatic styles of expression: lack of resources impact the artistic output of cultures.
Teotihuacán was a very different cultural node than any other during the Classic period: it was already an ancient city— that had been abandoned long before— when it was repopulated and repurposed by the Aztecs. It emerged as a major urban center possessing a magical aura for the people owing to the belief to have been the birthplace of the moon and the sun (Teotihuacán translates to “City of the Sun”). Its central location within the region facilitated trade and mobility, and the closeness to Lake Texcoco, and its surrounding swamps, ensured that resources would be supplied continuously. It grew into a prosperous, warring region that dominated its surroundings, all of which showed in its aesthetic preferences. It utilized a wild array of geometrical elements woven into otherwise centralized compositions. Its style was driven by visually assertive, interwoven juxtapositions of color and design. It was home to murals depicting beasts and gods in flurries of movement organized within fields of dominating color schemes that helped to unify the surrounding architecture. Its compositions retained echoes of frieze elements from the past, because of the compositional necessities imposed by the stone structures they decorated, but the frieze submitted to the depiction of their gods and beasts. These murals demanded attention and praise, and likely made Teotihuacán a terrifying place of worship for outsiders. Being creations from a culture based on war and religion, with clear social structures and precisely defined power hierarchies, the artistic expressions in the city seemed to reinforce its sense of power and war-like mentality.
Chichén Itzá, Tenochtitlan, and Tulum were examples of post-Classic cultures that seemed to exhibit a decline in the refinement of pictorial representation but made great progress in architecture and in writing (mostly inscriptions on stellas). This apparent decline may very well be the doing of the Spanish colonists through their utter destruction of artistic depictions and writings. We likely only see that which was either: more difficult to access, or more difficult to destroy. Difficulty of access is the reason the paintings in Tulum survived until the present day, although they have suffered damage from coastal environmental conditions. There are texts from Spaniards that describe Tenochtitlan (now Mexico City) as a beautiful city in which painting and complex architecture abounded. These texts also describe the total destruction during the process of invasion and colonization and illustrate why it is impossible to speak about the period with any level of certainty. We have only the bass-reliefs, sculptures, and architectural ruins to help us imagine the beauty of the city and of its artistic creations. We can only imagine through descriptions of “a city like Venice," or Rivera’s imaginations, painted from recollections and speculations, as well as modern digital reconstructions of what it might have looked like, but we will never know for certain.
The next important period for the development of muralism in Mexico was the colonial era. It is no surprise that there is a very marked shift toward Western aesthetic values during this time. Islamic influence— originating from Spain— is also apparent in the geometrical arrangements that frame more organic (Western) forms. The Catholic Church was the main agent for the propagation of these influences through syncretism— forced upon Mesoamerica by the Spanish Inquisition. Although syncretism allowed for the establishment of European religious institutions in America, it was never able to fully eliminate the beliefs and deities of the colonized. Catholic churches were built, on top of old temples that had been torn down, using the same foundations and stones used for pyramids so that the colonized would often go to church only to pay tribute to the original deities and not to the Abrahamic god. This stage is defined by depictions retaining a heavy stylization, akin to the Mexica (Aztec) codices. It was deeper into the colonial period when the Mexican Baroque style emerged with a myriad of depictions ranging from fully Western images to syncretized aesthetic representations, all of it modulated and adorned with Islamic-like arabesques.
By now, the cultures seemed to be better integrated with each other resulting in aesthetic aims that were more clearly defined. The eighteenth and nineteenth centuries produced fascinating work through a combination of European, criollo, and indigenous artists decorating the churches. Suddenly, a Westernized, academically inclined style emerged out of syncretism. It was driven by the church’s gold and silver and created murals with a single purpose: the inspiring of awe as a tool for indoctrination. These works, commissioned by the Catholic Church, were designed to transmit a message through a medium more universal than words: visual communication for the purpose of spreading catholicism. Does this begin to sound familiar? It was a model later adjusted to the State’s interests: the indoctrination of the population during the beginning of the twentieth century. But for now, painting still belonged to the church. There was a very short period toward the end of this era in which art became more democratic and was handed down to the people. The art made at this time is in a style known as “Costumbrism” (from costumbre= custom). It wanted to reflect the immediate reality, life, and customs of the general population, albeit in a less technically developed manner than its counterpart. Shortly after, Porfirio Díaz began promoting the “Parisification” of Mexico City in an attempt to emulate the aesthetics of the French City. This was the context in which Gerardo Murillo (Dr. Atl) worked. His easel paintings and mural commissions, inspired by the European vanguards of the time (especially post-Impressionism), preambled the efforts of the muralists in producing public art. There were mounting tensions but, outwardly, the country seemed to be developing, opening trade and following the path laid out by Europe and the United States but suuddenly, the Revolution broke out, putting a stop to all artistic development.
By this time, Rivera and Siqueiros had met in Europe and had had extensive conversations concerning the creation of a Mexican school of painting. They agreed on the necessity for it to be independent from other art movements and to focus on the social realities of the country. In 1921, after the Revolution came to an end, José Vasconcelos was appointed Secretary of Education. He began a project designed to use mural painting as a means of social expression and of mass education. His ideal was to create a sense of national pride and “Mexicanism” that would lead the way in the reconstruction of the social fabric and the modernization of the country. This was a very plural time in Mexico and in its art. The early school of muralists followed the aesthetic principles crystalized in the work of Jean Charlot. Project after project, the big three’s work began to stand out from the other artists. Diego Rivera preached Communism with an emphasis on the worker. Siqueiros preached Communism on the basis of development and Orozco believed in neither but was an advocate for the depiction of unity through syncretism. The three painters developed strongly personal styles which coalesced into something bigger than the sum of its parts. Their work gained a momentum that earned them international fame and respect. Some call the art of this time “Feísmo,” which literally translates into “Ugly-ism.” The term was coined because of the muralists’ preference of speed and concreteness above refinement.
Highly busy and saturated images were common in most of the post-Revolution murals. It seemed as though the artists had so much to say, and such little time to say it, that they didn’t display much concern about editing and simplifying compositions. The muralists favored content over form to the detriment of simplicity. This movement merged costumbrism and academicism into a style with nationalistic undertones called “Mexicanism.” In my opinion, the highest level among this group was reached by Saturnino Herrán who, having died at 31, seemed to be overlooked in favor of the others. He was concerned with syncretism and depicted his characters through a more humanistic lens than his counterparts. He elegantly portrayed workers and peasants in glorified compositions about gods and goddesses. He produced paintings of everyday scenes that depicted labor and peasants in a style which seemed to combine Social Realism with Art Nouveau. He died while producing his greatest work: a triptych depicting syncretism in which he displays all the cultural, social, artistic, and religious ideals condensed into a masterpiece that we will never see finished. He called it “Nuestros Dioses” (“Our Gods”).
The muralists continued to work long after this point in time but this is where I will stop. Most people who speak of muralism in Mexico pick up the story from this point. I have accomplished the clarification, however brief, of a continuous development of painting that was never interrupted and that helps in understanding the foundations for post-Revolutionary mural painting in Mexico. I will also refrain from speaking about the movement’s disappearance because it entails sensitive political involvement from the government of the United States in a bet to eliminate any leftist ideology from the continent while promoting their own style of art: a style which turned away from the realism of the academies and was a symbol for the new capitalism that emerged in the country after the shift in world banking as a result of WWII. The style is Abstract Expressionism. It is such a convoluted matter that it would take much research to accurately describe, and I have not yet studied it in enough depth to write about it in detail. The goal of this essay was only to shed light on the cultural continuum that resolved itself into post-Revolutionary muralism in Mexico in the most logical way possible. It has been a very brief look at these connections but I hope that it sheds light on the topic for those who are interested.
A quote by David Alfaro Siqueiros synthesizes this movement well:
“Toda mi teoría es humanista, lo cual quiere decir que parte del hombre y busca la salvación del hombre en el más completo de los términos.”
“My theory is all humanist, which is to say that it begins with humanity and it seeks humanity’s salvation in the term’s most complete sense.”