Latin American Artists in Nueva York: Orozco and Tamayo

Alright, we left off at Jose Clemente Orozco and Rufino Tamayo, two great Mexican artists. Orozco was considered one of "los tres grandes" (three important ones), referring to the three great muralists of that time: Rivera, Siqueiros, and Orozco. Siqueiros also was in New York at this time, but since I'm not a huge fan of his work, I won't go much more into him - beyond the little tidbit that he influenced Jackson Pollack with his use of industrial paints, like airplane paint, in his art. Ok, on to Orozco.

Orozco on the East Coast
Orozco lived in New York for a while - 1927 until 1934 and then again in 1940 and 1946.

One of his amazing murals is in a basement room in Dartmouth College. You'd be right to say that Dartmouth isn't in New York; it's in New Hampshire. But the mural he painted there is so amazing - I just have to write about it. It's called "The Epic of American Civilization" and it's 92-feet long. It portrays American civilization from the invasion of Mexico during the conquest to the Mexican revolution to scenes in the United States during the 1930s.

One segment of "The Epic of American Civilization", Jose Clemente Orozco, 1934, via Dartmouth

Orozco also painted scenes of New York life, such as "The Subway." Greg said it's like a jail cell. The dark and dreariness of the scene is very much like Orozco - his themes often have an apocalyptic overtone to them.

What stuck out to me is that the people look blurry and faraway, just like they would if you were trying to avoid seeing other people on a subway car. Beyond just the need to have space in a big city (even if it's only mental space), there's also a survival need there. You never know who you might meet on the subway and whether they are sane, unfriendly, or even short-tempered to the point of being murderous. Orozco shows the distance we place between ourselves and others in this painting.

"The Subway," Jose Clemente Orozco, 1928, via MoMA

Rufino Tamayo in New York

"I went to New York to get to know what painting really was... We were blind here, and New York made me aware of all the trends and currents that existed in those years. It showed me what art was."- Rufino Tamayo (via this New York Times article)

During the late 1920s, Tamayo was being eclipsed by the three great Mexican muralists of his time. There was really no need because Tamayo was an excellent painter who painted in a more universal style than the muralists. He wanted to base his art in principles of modern art, meaning flat compositions and abstract forms. Tamayo lived in New York between 1926-1928 and again in 1936 until 1950.

He exhibited in several galleries in New York and also had a major retrospective at the Guggenheim museum in New York in 1979. Not convinced? Here are two of his paintings that he did while in New York:

"Animales," Rufino Tamayo, 1941, via MoMA

Tamayo painted Animales right in the middle of WWII. It clearly communicates the fear and uncertainty that was rampant at this time in the world. These dogs are clearly hungry (see picked-clean bones at the bottom) and inspire fear in whoever would encounter them, especially in a dark alleyway somewhere. The animals are displayed with cubist lines and sinister colors. These are not your average domestic dogs here.

"Woman with a Pineapple," Rufino Tamayo, 1941, via MoMA

In total contrast, this peaceful scene of a woman with a pineapple. You can really see the influence of Picasso and cubism here. The colors also are interesting - you may never find a face with those types of colors (or shapes) in real life, but that's why it's art. Also, the subject matter evokes Gauguin with his island women.

Next up: Miguel Covarrubias and Joaquin Torres Garcia! Hope you're enjoying my presentation over many blog posts.

Latin American Artists in Nueva York: Diego Rivera

Now we can start on the artists - like I said before, I've got more information on Mexican artists than others so this is heavily skewed to them. There were plenty of other Latin American artists in New York during this time period, but not as much info on them. So, first up is Diego Rivera...

Diego Rivera in New York

He came to New York with his yet-unknown-artist/wife Frida Kahlo - nowadays more people know her than him, but back then, it was the other way around. He was fascinated by the modern technology that the city was using. Because he leaned heavily towards leftist politics, Rivera thought modern technology would free up the workers from hard labor tasks. 

The reason he saw all this modern technology at work was because the city was expanding greatly. It was the age of the skyscrapers in New York. Rivera created a three-piece mural for his successful MoMA exhibit in 1931-1932 and the subject had to do with this modern technology.

"Pneumatic Drill", Diego Rivera, 1931-2, via MoMA

 The first painting was called "Pneumatic Drill." This depicts the construction done for the Rockefeller Center, a place that will factor scandalously into Rivera's life a little later. The workers all have indistinct faces that imply they are simply hired hands. I found it interesting how the modern machine is in the front, but there are men using old technology (axes and such) in the background. It shows how old technology is the past and the new technology is the future.

"Frozen Assets", Diego Rivera, 1931-2, via MoMA

The next painting, "Frozen Assets," shows the city on three levels. The uppermost level is the newly-built skyscrapers in New York. The middle level shows a warehouse or homeless shelter full of homeless men, packed together and watched over by a guard. They were most likely the workers on these skyscrapers. In this painting, it appears that they are the foundation of the skyscrapers in the way they are positioned. In the bottom level, the rich are in a bank's safety vault, storing or reviewing their enormous wealth. Notice how this painting contrasts the few rich people at the bottom level with the vast number of homeless in the middle level.

"Electric Power", Diego Rivera, 1931-2 via MoMA

The last mural, "Electric Power," depicts workers in the Hudson Avenue Power Station where they generated steam power for the city during that time. Again, the workers aren't showing their faces, but two of them are looking at sources of light, which could signify that they are hopeful for the future.

Although Rivera was successful in New York at this time, he also was plagued by scandal. He was commissioned by Rockefeller Jr. to create a mural in the Rockefeller Center titled "Man at Crossroads." After placing Lenin's face in the mural, there was such an outcry in the press that Rockefeller was forced to tear down the mural. Or so they say...

"Man at Crossroads," Diego Rivera, 1934, via PBS

Another version that has been hypothesized is that Rockefeller was actually okay with Lenin's face on the mural. But what he didn't approve of was his own face on the mural. Rivera may have painted him in, drinking and dancing with women. Considering Rockefeller was religious (a Baptist) and a Prohibitionist, this personal insult was too much for him. This hypothesis may be true because Rivera later recreated the mural in Mexico and it had the scene with Rockefeller partying in it.

Lending credence to this belief of the personal slight is that Rockefeller ordered the mural destroyed while he was in negotiations with the MoMA for them to take the mural off his hands. Why would he have not sold the mural to the MoMA if only Lenin's face bugged him? He was a business man after all. 

Stay tuned for info and analysis on Orozco and Tamayo next time!

Latin American Artists in Nueva York: Intro

I recently gave a 30-minute (more like 45-minute) presentation to my art history class on Latin American artists who lived or passed through New York during the 1920s-1940s. You probably immediately think of Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo's husband, the legendary Mexican muralist if you've seen the movie about Frida. But there were lots more. I did end up focusing more on the Mexican artists during this time, but there were some from Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, Cuba, and even Ecuador (you might remember I mentioned Camilo Egas here).

I'm going to break up this post into at least two different posts so stay tuned for the rest. For now, enjoy learning a bit about the New York art scene during the '20s, '30s, and '40s, and how Latin American artists were treated during this time...

New York Art Scene in the 1920s

Art during this time was still relatively conservative in New York. The center of the modern art world was still Paris (and would be until WWII). The only gallery in town that was really showing modern art was Alfred Stieglitz's Gallery 291. H tried to get an avant-garde movement going in NY and would show more than just photography in his gallery. Even though New York wasn't known for its modern art yet, the US as a whole was known as an advanced and modern nation. Also, in case you forgot, Prohibition went from 1920-1933.

New York Art Scene in the 1930s

In the 1930s, the Great Depression raged in the US and around the world. In response, the art movement called social realism that displayed poverty and struggle grew in New York. Some American artists were given support by the government through the Works Projects Administration to create public art at this time. New York also experienced the immigration of artists and intellectuals from Europe who were fleeing unstable situations across Europe. They brought modern art movements with them, such as cubism for example.

New York Art Scene in the 1940s

During this decade, abstract expressionism grew in New York. The city also became a modern art center of the world because Paris was stuck in the middle of WWII. Lots of artists, both North American and Latin American, were influenced by leftist politics.

Latin American Artists Specifically

What I found really interesting was that Latin American artists who came to New York during the twenties/thirties/forties often were already well-known artists in their own countries and in Europe before they arrived in the US. What they did in New York added to their fame, but it didn't start their careers. Museums, like the MoMA, and galleries held exhibits for these artists.

North Americans during this time saw Latin American art, especially art from Mexico, as something exotic and picturesque, even though the artists were following the same art trends that North American artists were following. They just added their own Latin touch to the artwork and North Americans loved it! The Latino art also inspired North American artists and writers to visit Mexico and Cuba to experience the landscape and culture for themselves.

Also, President Roosevelt's Good Neighbor Policy tried to build better relationships with Latin American countries using cooperation and business, rather than military force, to stabilize the region. The government sponsored some exhibits of Latin American art during this time period, too.

One last interesting thing (and then you'll just have to wait until the next installment) was that art during this time influenced one another. As mentioned above, the famous photographer Alfred Stieglitz exhibited modern art work, including caricatures by Marius de Zayas in his gallery. The Mexican caricaturist, Miguel Covarrubias, was influenced by Jazz and Blues music, as well as African-American dancing. And Frida Kahlo loved watching movies and included a famous actor in one of her paintings when she was in New York.

I'll leave you with that wealth of information until next time. I'll list my bibliography at the end of this series so you all can research more.

Portrait of a Painter

Around the time Luis Martinez started painting (late 1800s, early 1900s), Ecuador was still establishing itself as a nation. So his paintings of countrysides could be seen as a way of marking Ecuadorian territory, if only in the public sentiment. He showed Ecuadorians and the rest of the world what Ecuador was (after all, this was during a time when people couldn't just hop a plane or even a bus).

Martinez was a mountain climber, which gave a lot of realism to his art. But his paintings were definitely romantic - you can see a lot of inferences to the presence of God in his work. The sky in many of his paintings take up a third to half of the piece. And there's a lot of golden, heavenly light in there, too.

Another thing he was really good at was working in a play of light and shadow to create depth and add distance to his pieces.

He saw his work as a scientific document - he was not just painting a pretty picture, but more importantly, showing everyone what these mostly unseen landscapes looked like.

El Altar in the early 1900s

View of El Altar in 2008, taken by Ivan Layedra P

Even in modern times, his paintings have this aspect of a scientific document to them. His work gives us a view into this part of the world before industries and people began polluting and causing great changes in the atmosphere. He painted mountains with snow-capped peaks. When we see them today, much of the snow has disappeared. Probably in a few decades, these mountains will be completely bare of snow, leading to huge consequences for the people who live in Ecuador and the rest of South America.

I think his work really conveys the feeling that one gets in the solitude of nature and in the presence of something greater than ourselves. These mountains and landscapes will outlast all of us.

[Paintings from the book "Luis A. Martinez" by Fernando Jurado Noboa]

Update on Art History Class

You may remember I'm taking an art history class at the local university. There are a few updates I can give you now that we're more than a third of the way in.

• The class is half-full of art history nerds. You can especially tell who is an art history nerd and who is a art history amateur (myself included) when we sit in a cafe after going to a museum. The art history nerds (which I write with much affection) will talk the teacher's ear off about some abstract painting; an art conference coming to town; or problems that are affecting the Ecuadorian art field in general. Really heavy stuff. The rest of us will chat about the new airport in town, the weather, our next vacation, or a new movie. As you can imagine, I'm getting pretty good at Ecuadorian small talk.

• I'm now understanding 80% of what is said, maybe 75% on the day that starts at 9 am. I'm not a morning person when it comes to Spanish - I've found that my Spanish level decreases noticeably when I'm forced to communicate articulately at wee hours of the morning. So trying to identify what kind of art style a painting is before 10 am is not really happening. I sit back and soak it all in until my mind starts up for the day. Next week we have a 4-hour class and I think my head might just implode by the third hour. I've heard talk of pastries making an appearance though.

• Camilo Egas is one of my new favorites. The other week, our teacher took us to the museum of Quito's most under-appreciated artist, Camilo Egas. Let me tell you - this guy painted it all. He painted impressionism, cubism, abstract expressionism, surrealism, Spanish modernism, and lots of indigenous art. I couldn't take photos, but you can check out his work here. 

• I have an exam... tomorrow. I should be studying my butt off like all the good art history nerds, but I'm having a hard time concentrating on it tonight. We've got the most amazing cloud show happening outside our window right now. It's good blog-writing weather.

• My next presentation is on Latino artists in New York in the 20th century. My teacher says she's got text (in English!) for me so I think she's taken pity on me. I've also noticed there are not that many Ecuadorian art history books out there. And the ones that are out there are difficult to read. My theory is that these art history experts know they're a select few who write about Ecuadorian art history so they feel inventing obscure words (that aren't in any dictionary and confuse even the native Spanish speakers, mind you) is their right. They exercise that right pretty much every sentence. The sentences in these art history texts are something else, too. I've never seen such long sentences in my life. I've actually started counting the longest sentences I've seen so far - the record is 8 lines (2 lines less than this bullet point).

• I'll finish with some other painters for you to check out. Since our class is about Ecuadorian and Latin American painters, we've studied painters from all over. I've enjoyed Tarsila do Amaral from Brazil; Emilio Pettorutti from Argentina (futurism!); Pedro Figari from Uruguay; and Luis Martinez from Ecuador (I did a presentation on him - beautiful landscapes of Ecuador. I have to write a blog post just about him. After all, I did the research and my class probably only understood half of what I said anyway so other people should benefit from this knowledge). 

This is one of my favorites of Luis Martinez -
it's from a book called
"Luis A. Martinez" by Fernando Jurado Noboa.

Watch out, college!

Ok, so the title of this post is kind of a misnomer. But I am taking a class at the local university here in Quito. The class is called Contemporary Art: Ecuador and Latin America (although the actual title is in Spanish). And the whole class is in Spanish, too!

I'm pretty psyched because I've tried to find something for a while that would hold my interest, but also let me speak Spanish more often. This class is it because I'm the only English speaker in there. My teacher knows English, but we've already established that English is not an option in class. I haven't taken an art history course since Madrid when I studied contemporary art at the local university there. Luckily for me, the paintings were familiar. Whereas here, we're focusing on painters that are entirely new to me. I also am out of my league because I don't know as much of Ecuadorian history or politics.

But unlike the other students, I don't have to worry about getting a good grade. I just have to focus on soaking up art history, Ecuadorian history and politics knowledge and try not to annoy my other classmates with my sometimes dreadful Spanish. Like today, when I forgot the word for "shop" (noun)  - SHOP of all things! That word is covered within the first month of a basic Spanish class. For shame!

I've already had two classes - the first I understood about 60% of what was said to me. From what I understood, I could tell I was going to learn a whole lot. In my second class, we went to Old Town to view the architecture from the 19th and 20th centuries, which is what we're focusing on right now.

Our teacher is so awesome - she got us into chapels and places that are otherwise off-limits. And we saw some really amazing chapels and paintings. We mainly focused on the church of Santo Domingo. Without pictures (yeah, I know - I really goofed up on not bringing my camera), I can't really explain the coolness of what we say so you'll just have to trust me on that. When I do learn something interesting, I'll make sure to share it with you. Until then!