An Afternoon with Diego Rivera

After a morning at the Metropolitan Cathedral, which forms the northern side of Mexico City's huge central square, the Zócalo, I went to the Palacio Nationale, along the square's eastern side. This is the official presidential complex, and much of it is open to the public. It's been the seat of ruling power in Mexico City since the Aztec times; the palace was begun around 1520 by the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés after his conquest of the city, on the exact site where Moctezuma II lived and ruled, and incorporates much of the Aztec building material in its construction.

Here I am on the second level, having climbed the main staircase. Below is the view down into the central courtyard, where the first recorded bullfights in New Spain took place.

The proportions and elegance of the building alone would be reason enough to visit. But I was like many who come here to see something else: the huge murals by Diego Rivera which decorate the main stairwell and northeastern half of the second colonnade level. When I walked in, I really couldn't believe my eyes. The murals are much larger and more extensive than I expected, and how astounding is the story they tell.

The first set of murals are arranged in a tryptich in the main stairwell. Above, you are looking to the south.

This is the largest panel, at the top of the stairwell on the western wall. (I apologize, but there was a tremendous glare from the bright sun.) This panel tells the story of the Spanish conquest, the role of the church, the treatment of the Indians, and the Inquisition.

A detail of the upper right portion of the western wall. I think some of the best painting and composition is in this section, though every single painting was extremely impressive.

The northern panel shows the Aztec civilization before the coming of Cortes and the Spanish. A detail of the lower far right is below, showing the powerful monumentality of Rivera's figures.

Opposite, on the southern wall the mural depicts 20th century political history, the struggle of the workers, and the Revolution. The figure at the top is Karl Marx, and you can see Rivera's wife, Frida Kahlo, behind the woman in red in the bottom center.

The amount and quality of painting inthe stairwell is pretty staggering, but as you leaving it and move around the colonnade to the north, you find another series of large murals that tell the story of Mexico City, beginning with the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, built on an island in Lake Texcoco in 1325, and almost completely destroyed by the Spanish in 1521.

You can see the volcanoes that still ring the city in the distance. Rivera has been accused of glorifying the Indians; here he does acknowledge their practice of human sacrifice by showing blood on the pyramid steps. Along with everything else, the main pyramid of the Aztec city was razed and the Spanish cathedral built on the same spot, just a few steps from where I was standing. It was only in the last quarter of the 20th century when its ruins were discovered; now the Templo Mayor can be visited as an archaeological site, just to the north of this building.

The hallway murals continue, showing aspects of Aztec culture like the distillation of mescal, the collection of rubber, and the making of bark cloth.

You can see Rivera's signature in the very top center of the image above.

For the study of masterful mural-painting, I can't imagine a more brilliant place than this. Each of these hallway paintings tells a story through powerful forms, masterful composition, and perspective that leads the eye into the middle distance and into the deep space of the background. I was in awe, not only of Diego Rivera's skill, but his vision -- and for the sheer volume of his achievement on these walls, which represents only a fraction of his life's work.

It was also very moving to me to see public art like this in a presidential palace, telling a story that anyone can understand, as unvarnished as any literature. (Just imagine, for a moment, what stories a parallel work would have to include in the U.S. capitol, or the White House, and how that might change America's national narrative.)

One of the aspects of Mexico City that impressed me the most was how present its entire history was, everywhere we went, and no matter who we talked to. It is something that unites the people, and of which they all seem to be proud. While I was viewing these murals, a large school group also came, with a teacher who talked to them in front of each painting. This public art -- and these are only a small portion of the murals which decorate this city -- must play an important role in the consciousness of the people, and must also affect their whole idea not only of what art is and can be, but of who they are.

I think this is something Rivera intended to show them. After spending hours looking at the people in these murals, I walked out into the crowded streets -- and there they were.

Comments

[marly youmans]

A wonderful vicarious ramble...

[Marja-Leena]

Astounding work by Rivera. I love this statement about his murals, that they "must play an important role in the consciousness of the people, and must also affect their whole idea not only of what art is and can be, but of who they are."

I wish I could have been there in person but your photos are a fantastic second best, thank you, Beth! I've only seen a small work of his in real life.

[Dale Favier]

Wonderful.

[Leslee]

Oh Beth, these are amazing. They remind me of the Orozco murals that cover the walls and ceiling of the Instituto Cultural Cabañas in Guadalajara depicting Mexican history, and murals covering the walls of the Palacio Federal in Morelia, and even in the tiny municipal center in the little town of Lake Chapala (I was browsing my old blog posts last night). But the size and scope of the Diego Rivera murals you're showing here is just astonishing. How wonderful you got to see them.

[mike]

Quite a contrast to the sadly comical adventures of this mural in Albany: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/27/nyregion/new-york-uncovers-offending-mural-for-brief-public-views.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

[Jean]

How fabulously well you've captured these, Beth - thank you! I've never been that attracted to the idea of Rivera's work - the macho, massive, monumental aspect, I guess. I kind of thought these would be disappointing, in the same way as the Sistine Chapel disappointed me. Your photos and words have completely converted me.

[Rachel Barenblat]

Oh, how spectacular, Beth. Thank you for sharing this glimpse. After spending hours looking at the people in these murals, I walked out into the crowded streets -- and there they were. -- yes! Oh, wow.

I love to imagine what such murals might contain in this country, were such murals ever to be (properly) made.

[Lorianne]

Amazing!

[Vivian]

Here is the one in Detroit

http://www.dia.org/art/rivera-court.aspx

[Beth]

I'm glad you're enjoying this post. It was a real privilege to see these murals in person.

Mike - the story of that Albany mural (and the "solution" they've come up with) is really fascinating - thanks a lot for the link. It really makes you think about the difference between public and "private" art, since so much art in museums would easily qualify as "offensive."

Vivian -- thanks for sharing this link - I've never seen this mural before, and I especially like the very first panel, with the two mothers and the baby. Interesting that Rivera considered this Detroit mural his best work - I wish I knew what he himself used as criteria for a fine mural.

[Beth]

Here's a much sadder story about another piece of public art in Mexico City - a memorial to those who've died of drug-related violence. http://latitude.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/03/08/a-memorial-in-mexico-city-adds-absurdity-to-tragedy/

[Anil]

What a sight this is, rich to the point of being dreamlike if not for the grim story they tell.

Masterly evocations. This destruction of original constructs to supplant with those of the conquerors makes one wonder what scale those destroyed pyramids must've been, or what life centred around them must've been.

As a means to know "who they are", and in such evocative depictions must surely cement the impression on their minds greatly.

If one would substitute 'Spanish' with 'Portuguese' in "the Spanish conquest, the role of the church, the treatment of the Indians, and the Inquisition", you'd have Goa. I could identify with this very well.

[margaret]

Spectacular...and your photos do justice to the artist. Been to Mexico several times, but never Mexico City (though my spouse has--but then he's covered a great deal of ground in Central America.)

[Lucy]

Astonishing. I imagine you could look and look at these and never take in all the detail. Like Jean I never felt very drawn to his work before but this changes my mind.

[Beth]

Hi Lucy, thanks for commenting so honestly! One thing my photos simply can't capture is the effect of the sheer size and volume of his achievement. You can see the big central panel, but when you take that in, along with the two side panels AND and entire corridor-and-a-half of additional panels, each themselves very large, and realize this still is only a small part of his entire oeuvre, it begins to take on a Sistine Chapel sort of significance.

I don't usually find Rivera's work "beautiful," though there are a few large easel paintings I do love - I think one of them is at Tate Modern now. I appreciate the murals for other reasons, and it was easier to do that seeing them in person.

[Hattie]

How fabulous. I'm going to see if I can talk our hosts on our coming trip to going to see the murals. If not, they are a must-see for the next time I visit Mexico!

[Natalie]

Beth, I love the way you immerse yourself completely in new places, people, things, and your ability to communicate these experiences. You managed in words and photos to capture the "Rivera moment", despite the difficulties of size and location. Indeed Diego's talent, energy, inventiveness and incredible productivity are staggering. I too was never a big fan of his work but am still bowled over by some of it and your post reminds me.
There's a gorgeous coffee-table size book of *all* his murals published by Taschen which I covet (hint to anyone anywhere who wants to lavish expensive gifts on me anytime):

http://www.taschen.com/pages/en/catalogue/art/all/00328/facts.diego_rivera_the_complete_murals.htm