Diego Rivera: Artist for Mexico's People

In the Western European tradition, artists are often prophets of the future—alerting us to emerging trends. But artists also perform other roles: they can, for example, integrate and reflect back to the people a fresh understanding of their history and culture.

Mexico's complex history is fraught with conflict. Confronted by their country's complexity and conflict, the best of Mexico's artists have risen to the challenge—creating works that are not only artistically important, but culturally meaningful and revealing.

Mexico: Major Historical Forces

• Mesoamerican agrarian civilization, based on maís (corn), gave rise to a worldview focused on the annual solar cycle (birth-death-rebirth) and the critical need to maintain equilibrio (balance) between the world of humans and the forces of naturaleza (natural-spiritual world). This worldview was expressed in unique and powerful symbolic rituals and art. 
• Spanish Colonial Culture was imposed by Spanish soldiers and forced conversions of the people to Spanish Catholicism. The Spanish brought their symbols of power (sword) and faith (cross). The crown imposed a caste system that kept people divided from one another and fostered isolated sub-cultures rather than a national identity. This also prevented the people from developing competence in self-governance. 
• Struggle for Nationhood. The War of Independence (1810-1821) was followed by a century of civil strife. Caudillos, military strongmen, overthrew one-another for the presidency. The country was invaded three times. Conservatives (landed elites) attempted to establish a monarchy, while liberals sought a democracy. This led to civil war (1857-61). Porfirio Díaz seized control in 1876 and held the presidency for thirty-four years. He brought stability and industrial modernizaion at the cost of violent repression. These injustices triggered the Mexican Revolution.
• Mexican Revolution (1910-1920's):  The Mexican Revolution was a civil war that once again pitted conservatives against liberals, and peasant populists against both. The victor, Venustiano Carranza, was an upper-class conservative, but he was forced to accept some liberal and populist reforms in order to create a government under the Constitution of 1917, which is still the legal basis of the Mexican Republic.
• Mexico under PRI (1930 -2000):  After a series of struggles between rivals for the presidency—which included assassinations—President Plutarco Elías Calles successfully substituted party rule for the competition of regional caudillos. One-party rule by the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) delivered stability without democracy to Mexico for 70 years.

Into this history, in the late nineteenth century, during the thirty-four year dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz, was born a Mexican with his own complex family history. He was to come into his artistic own after the Mexican Revolution, at a time when Mexico was trying to become a modern nation—struggling to define its identity in relation to its past and to articulate a vision of its future, including its relation to the larger world. His brilliant talent, original artistic vision and prolific productivity played a central role in furthering that process.

Diego Rivera: Self portrait

Diego Rivera (1886-1957)

In 1886, Diego María de la Concepción Juan Nepomuceno Estanislao de la Rivera y Barrientos Acosta y Rodríguez was born in Querétaro, Guanajuato. On his father's side, Diego was descended from Spanish nobility. His mother was a converso, a Jew whose ancestors—residing on the Iberian Peninsula during the 14th and 15the centuries—were forced to convert to Catholicism in order to survive.

Baptized Catholic, Diego was not raised as a Jew. As an adult he was a strident atheist. Also as an adult, he described how he identified with his mother's family as marranos—Jews living in the Iberian Peninsula forced to convert to Christianity, but continuing to observe rabbinic Judaism in secret.

Reflecting back later on his formative years, Diego wrote:

"My Jewishness is the dominant element in my life. From this has come my sympathy with the downtrodden masses that motivates all my work."

Diego began drawing when he was only three, just a year after his twin brother's death. Caught drawing on the walls of his family's house, his parents installed chalkboards and canvas for the youngster's use. In 1892 the family moved to Mexico City. By the time he was ten, Diego was studying art at the Academy of San Carlos in Mexico City.  

Later in his life, Diego said he learned about his country’s art from José Posada, graphic artist and teacher who worked as an illustrator and political cartoonist in a small shop located near the San Carlos Academy.

In keeping with his Posada's commitment to make art for the people, he worked in the window of his shop so the people could see what he was doing. The engraver's activities were to attract not only to Diego Rivera, but José Clemente Orozco—who would become, along with Rivera, another of 'the greats' of the Mexican Muralists. But I'm getting ahead of the story.

Posada's Own Photograph of his Taller (Shop)

José Guadalupe Posada (1852-1913) Influences a Young Diego

In light of his family history, it is not difficult to understand why Diego was attracted to Posada's illustrations, which focused on the inequities and social injustice of the Porfirio Díaz regime—including political caricatures that raised pointed questions about the morality of the regime's 'cult' of modernity-industrialization.

"Man in a Top Hat" holding aloft a dollar bill, exemplifies
Posada's humanity, humor and whimsy, even while criticizing the
wealthy elite. This cartoon figure reminds me of a Mexican saying,
"Pobricito, mi patrón piensa que el pobre soy yo"
("Poor little man, my boss thinks that I am the poverty-stricken one.") 

Most importantly for Diego's artistic and intellectual development, Posada's work was supremely original in its characterizations of the Mexican people across a wide range of issues. In his illustrations and caricatures, Posada addressed not only political issues, daily life, and the people's terror as the nineteenth century drew to a close (which carried, for the people, portents of the end of the world), but also their fear of natural disasters, their deeply-held religious beliefs and the omnipresent spirit world (superstition) rampant them and still widespread in everyday Mexican life.

Considered a popular artist because of his subject matter and his style (Posada was a master of political caricature), the graphic artist in fact sprang from the pueblo (ordinary people). The people inspired Posada's wildly popular Mexican imagery, and they were Posada's primary audience—thus providing  an important model for the impressionable young Diego of how an artist can relate his work to and for the people. It is fair to say it is a lesson Diego Rivera never forgot. 

Rivera Pays Homage to Posada's Influence in the mural: Sueño de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central

Decades later, Rivera wrote that Posada was the prototypical artist of the people and their most astute defender. In his 1947 mural Sueño de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central (Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Park), Diego portrays himself as the offspring of Posada and la Catrina. Diego holds Catrina's right hand; José Posada stands to the left of la Catrina.

Diego Rivera, Sueño de la tarde dominical en la Alameda Central (1947)

In this mural, Rivera constructed a panoramic view of the four hundred years of Mexico's history set in Mexico City's historic Alameda park (Poplar Grove). Built in 1592 by order of the eighth Spanish Viceroy Luis de Velasco, the park was built on land that was once the site of an Aztec marketplace.

The mural's chronology proceeds left to right, but this monumental mural—15 m (50 ft) by 4.8 m (15 ft)—is not a history. Rather it is a collage of images such as those inspired by dreams (sueños). To convey social movement, Rivera arranges the trunks and branches of trees. Trees at the left stand motionless against a dark blue sky—representing the people's helplessness before Spanish sword and cross.

On the right side of the mural, trees bend and twist in winds...of change that Diego associated with the just-concluded Mexican Revolution—depicted by flames rising behind a mounted Zapatista (populist) fighter. 

It is important that Rivera had a second reason for setting his panorama in the Alameda Central. What is today the park's western section was first a plain plaza built during the Inquisition in Mexico. Known as El Quemadero (The Burning Place), witches and others convicted for heresy by Mexico's Inquisitors were publicly burned at the stake. In the mural, a detail recalls this history.

Mural Detail: The first victim of the Mexican Inquisition was a
granddaughter of Nezahualcóyotl, who was burned at the stake
for idolatry. Her grandfather Nezahualcóyotl was a 15th century
ruler of the city-state of Texcoco, now part of Mexico City.
Revered as a wise and just ruler,  Nezahualcóyotl's poetry and
philosophy reflected his exceptional intelligence. 

Diego's Autobiographical Comment

By far the best way to appreciate fully the originality of the 150 characters depicted on this mural is to view it in person—walking its length more than once and referring frequently to a diagram that identifies key personages. Intriguingly, this dream-collage includes autobiographical information about the artist himself.

In the center of the mural, Diego portrays himself at the turn of the century, wearing short pants and straw hat. In his pockets are a frog and snake—live toys! With his bulging eyes and corpulent physique, evident even at an early age, Diego throughout his life presented a somewhat crude physical appearance.

Mural Detail: Young Diego in short pants and straw hat, holds the right hand of
la Catrina (Mexico's elegant iconic image of Death); to the left of la Catrina
is the engraver-artist José Posada with a cane. Behind Diego stands Frida Kahlo,
his future wife, with her right hand resting protectively on Diego's right shoulder;
in her left hand, Frida holds the Chinese symbol for Yin and Yang. This essential
duality (equilibrio) is both an essential component of Mesoamerican and Mexican
culture and characterizes Diego's and Frida's volatile love-hate relationship.  

Diego Creates la Catrina 

Why la Catrina stands in the middle between Diego and his mentor José Posada is quite interesting. For a newspaper, José Posada drew a female skull that he titled, La Calavera Garbancera (The Chickpea Skull), which was a burlesque of indigenous people who, having become wealthy during the Porfiriato, embraced European styles and rejected their indigenous origins and customs.  

La Calavera Garbancera, José Posada

For the mural, Rivera painted a full-figured skeleton of Death, whom he named la Catrina. As part of her elegant costume, Rivera draped a plumed boa around her shoulders. The boa sports a serpent's head and a rattlesnake's tail that, in effect, represents the plumed serpent, Quetzalcóatl.

Mexico's art experts agree:  it was Diego Rivera who created the iconic Catrina—today an essential component of Mexico's annual Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) commemorations. 

Imagine our surprise to take a closer look at Reed's cherished Catrina—only to discover that at opposite ends of the boa draped across her shoulders are a serpent head and rattlesnake tail!

No doubt about it—the boa on our la Catrina has a
serpent head! It is indeed a feathered serpent!

The People Provide the Action

Mural detail: Indigenous women in yellow dress being faced down by a
police officer to prevent her from mingling with the 'decent' people. 

Rivera depicts the 'decent' people in static poses—in itself a telling social comment. Now is probably a good time to point out a dozing Porfirio Díaz (Mexico's, thirty-four year 'efficient' dictator)—his pink complexion, white beard and blue tricorn hat is flush against the right margin.

But it is those de abajo (the common people) that Rivera chooses to provide the narrative action—a technique in keeping with his intent to make murals that tell the people's story. The face-off between the indigenous woman and the authorities is one example, but the mural provides several others.

For example, the hot air balloon at the right is taken from an actual balloonist, who was well-known to the Mexican public. Diego took advantage of the public's familiarity to write 'RM'—¡República Méxicana!—on the side of the balloon. Given Mexico's brief experiments with imperial rule, it was an important message— signaling resolution of a hundred-year political conflict in favor of populist, representative government.

Rivera's Artistic Debt to José Guadalupe Posada

We can surmise that the youthful Diego Rivera, who had internalized the persecution of his mother's Jewish family, embraced Posada's depictions of the Mexican pueblo—the common people. Diego's conversations with the brilliant, intense engraver undoubtedly influenced the young artist's thinking and gave him creative ideas about how art could be made to tell important stories of and about the people.   

In 1907, Diego received a government traveling scholarship that enabled him to study in Europe. He returned to Mexico only once for a brief visit in 1910, just before the outbreak of the Mexican Revolution.  Most likely Diego visited his old mentor, José Posada, during this visit. It would be the last time they saw each other. 

Diego spent the years of the Mexican Revolution (1910-1921) in Paris, where he studied, worked and was able occasionally to exhibit his work.

From the outbreak of the Mexican Revolution in 1910 until his death in 1913, José Guadalupe Posada worked tirelessly in newspapers directed to Mexico's workers. 

Diego Rivera returned to Mexico in 1921 at the urging of the Mexican Ambassador to France, Alberto J. Pani, and Mexico's new Secretary of Public Education, José Vasconcelos—who joined forces to appeal to Diego to put his prodigious talent to work for the good of his country.  

Coming Soon  

Posts on Diego's Mexican Mural Art and on the Studio-House designed and built in San Ángel by Diego's friend, Juan O'Gorman, whose Irish, painter father immigrated to Mexico.  

Still Curious?

An excellent description, abundant with examples of José Guadalupe Posada's political cartoons and caricatures, "Posada and the Popular [Mexican] Graphic Tradition."

Here's a well-known example of Posada's use of the Calavera (Skeleton):

Calavera Ciclista (Cycling Skeletons), Posada

Another of Posada's calavera political caricatures

Wikipedia entry for the Alameda Central. 

Bureaucracy: Power of the Written Word

Last fall, Reed needed a remote access device to connect his Notebook to the Internet while he traveled with the Caravana del Sur (South) of the Movement for Peace with Justice and Dignity led by Javier Sicilia, Mexican poet-activist. Told we could buy one at TelCel, that’s where we went first.

Ángel de Independencia is the primary symbol of the Mexican  Republic. The statue is a French-style variation on Greco-Roman Imperial imagery. Mexican law is based on civil law, which the Romans imposed on Spain over 2,000 years ago. Civil law begins with a legal code made up of legal rules. Documents must conform to the rules laid down in the legal code—giving rise to a deference to the written word that permeates the culture, including our salesperson at Sanborn's!

The TelCel representative informed us they didn’t have one, but we could get one at Sanborn’s—a specialty chain also owned by Telcel's owner, Mexican billionaire Carlos Slim. Helpfully, the TelCel Representative wrote down the device’s name and model number for us.

When we arrived at Sanborn’s we showed the note to the salesperson. “Oh,” he replied rather formally, distantly, wearing the all-too-familiar bureaucratic 'mask', “this model has been discontinued, but possibly another Sanborn’s still has one in stock.”

At this point, I first went into “Now see here, young man!” mode, before hastening to explain that my husband needed the device because he was leaving on a trip in 24 hours. Almost unconsciously, I employed a basic principle for dealing with Mexican culture—finding a way to help the bureaucrat drop the mask and deal with me as a real person.

I may be mistaken, but at times in hindsight, it seems to me as if Mexicans use the mask to defend themselves against an arrogant attack by Americans. When I signal that the attack is not forthcoming, the cultural door seems to open. So respectfully, almost deferentially, I asked, “Don't you have another remote device that will connect him to the Internet?”

“Oh, yes,” the salesperson replied apologetically, while reaching for a box right in front of us under the counter, “we have this one, but it is more expensive.” In passing, let me mention that it was 100 pesos more, about US$8.00, more expensive!

When Reed and I indicated our delight in being able to take advantage of this option, the salesperson dropped his mask and went into ‘personal’ mode—doing whatever it took to get Reed’s Notebook connected to the Internet using the device. He exhibited the ingenuity, patience and persistence that we cherish in Mexico's young people. It took about 15 minutes, but we walked out of Sanborn’s with a functioning remote access device.

The Dawning of Cultural Insight 

Later at home, we thought about what had happened at Sanborn’s. “It’s the paper,” I realized, “we walked in and handed him a note naming the product the TelCel representative had recommended to us.”

Faced with this handwritten ‘order’, the salesperson felt obligated to respond only to that narrow request. Those of us raised in the highly pragmatic culture that dominates in the U.S. and Western Europe are challenged to understand the power of the ‘written word’ in the authoritarian, hierarchical, bureaucratic mindset that dominates Mexican culture.

For those of us from Western cultures, ‘making the sale’ takes precedence. Reality—product inventory, in this case—is nothing more than the means to achieving that end. 

It’s encouraging to note that the bureaucratic mindset isn't the entire story in Mexico either. Setting aside the fact that the device recommended by the TelCel Representative had been discontinued—TelCel’s inventory system failed to provide that basic information?—the simple reality is that the written ‘order’—perhaps ‘prescription’ is more accurate—took precedence over reality until I objected!

Apparently, my respectful objection released the salesperson from the obligation to follow the prescribed ‘order’, and he was quick to offer an alternative. In hindsight, the transaction would have been much easier if we’d just walked into Sanborn’s and asked the salesperson for a remote access device!

Still Curious?

The experience of moving our Mexican bank account from Pátzcuaro to our new branch in Coyoacán and replacing my Mexican bank Debit Card introduces Labyrinths of Power: Mexican Bureaucracy.

A useful take on Hispanic bureaucracy is available in Jenny's post Tips for Succeeding with Mexican Bureaucracy, which begins with a hilarious, highly informative, professionally produced 'short' (3:30 min) documentary depicting Spanish bureaucracy. Not to be missed!

The 'short' is followed by Seven Simple Steps for dealing with Hispanic bureaucracy developed originally by a U.K. expat living in Spain. Jenny's 'Take' builds on insights gained in our multi-year experiences of dealing with bureaucracy in Mexico. The net result is an adaptation of the Seven Simple Steps tailored to the idiosyncrasies of Mexican bureaucracy.

Finally, Jenny's post What Makes the Mexican Legal System So Different? builds understanding of how Mexican law, grounded in the legal system known as Civil Law, differs significantly from the U.S. legal system—grounded in Common Law. Familiarity with the basic differences provides essential understanding for dealing effectively with Mexican bureaucracy. 

Mexico's Volcanoes & Mesoamerican Mythology

     Volcanoes are impressive as awe-inspiring outbursts of the powers of nature. They arouse wonderment by their majesty, and they excite terror because of their devastation. 
     But once their activity has subsided, they leave behind as souvenirs fascinating rock formations, enchanting lakes, refreshing springs, healing waters, playful geysers, delightful waterfalls, sylvan mountain scenery, and often majestic snow-covered peaks. 

     The behavior of human beings, individuals or groups, sometimes resembles volcanoes' destructive activity and subsequent return to normal. 

Esperanza Yarza Carreón, Los Volcanes de Mexico (1948)

Professor of Arts and Letters
National Autonomous University of Mexico 

A distinguishing feature of Mexico's geography, the Volcanic Axis belts the country's mid-section (red shading). The Black Triangles (West to East) identify Mexico's largest volcanoes:

• Colima (active);
• Popocatépetl (active), linked by a mountain ridge to
• Iztaccíhuatl (dormant);
• La Malinche (dormant for 3,100 years); and
• Pico de Orizaba (active).

Mexico's Volcanic Axis with Four Largest Volcanoes:
Colima, Popocatépetl, Iztaccíhuatl, La Malinche, Pico de Orizaba

Stratovolcano (aka Continental-Margin)

Stratovolcanoes occur when one plate slides below another—a process known as subduction. A well-known example is the Pacific plate, which is sliding under the North American plate. These violently erupting volcanoes are characterized by long repose ('inactive' periods) between eruptions.

Popocatépetl is a stratovolcano. Effusive activity between 3,600 and 1,200 years ago (1600 BCE and 800 CE) produced Popocatépetl's present cone. Significant Vesuvius-like (plinian) eruptions occurred about 1,200 and 1,000 years ago (800 and 1000 CE), a time period concurrent with human habitation.

In 1993, following a fifty-year period of 'repose' during most of the 20th century, Popocatépetl again became an active volcano leading up to its eruption in 1994. Located about 70 km. (43 miles) from the center of Mexico City, the volcano with its smoking plume is easily visible on clear days from our front windows and small balcony.

Sunrise on Popocatépetl (Smoking Mountain in Nahuatl) with its north glacier
Photographed from our balcony (2011)

Another volcano of this type is El Chichón, which sits on the Chiapanecan Volcanic Arc that runs through Chiapas, land of Maya civilization. This geologic zone is thought to be the result of the subduction of the Tehuantepec Ridge, an undersea ridge that lies on the Cocos Plate off the Pacific coast of Mexico.

When El Chichón erupted in 1982 (March 29, April 3, 4), it killed about 2,000 people living on nearby slope. Explosive eruptions of magma (a mixture of molten rock, volatiles and solids) were accompanied by pyroclastic flows (superheated gases flowing about 450 mph).

Monogenetic Cinder Cone Volcanoes

These smaller volcanoes tend to form and erupt where there has been no previous volcanic activity. Cinder cone volcanoes erupt once within a volcanic field, then the activity shifts to a new location within the field giving rise to a subsequent eruption in the new location at a later time.

The activity of Paricutín in Michoacán, for example, is well-documented. A similar eruption in the same volcanic field occurred years before about 128 km. (80 miles) from Paricutín.

Paricutin's eruption in 1943 was anticipated by hundreds of earthquakes that occurred in the preceding two-week period. In one memorable 24-hour period, two hundred earthquakes were recorded. Once eruptions began, they continued for nine years. The effects were devastating: approximately 3,600 people were forced to move out of the region. But that wasn't the full extent of the impact.

Ash fall caused mountain slopes to become steeper, thus greatly accelerating soil erosion. As streams became clogged with ash, their carrying power increased and caused flooding. During the nine years of active eruption, crop cultivation was impossible at distances up to 35 km. (22 miles), although farmers who were slightly farther away reported improved crop yields during the years when ash fell lightly on their fields.

Mexico's Volcanic Axis "...abounds with volcanoes of the cinder cone type." The volcanic fields of northern Michoacán and southern Guanajuato are among the largest cinder cone fields in the world.

Click here for GoogleMap showing the string of cinder cone volcanoes running East-West across Mexico City's southern border.

What Happens When a Volcano Erupts

In 1990 the Geological Institute of the Autonomous University of Mexico published a report by volcanologist Stephen Nelson. Advocating increased scientific monitoring of Mexico's volcanoes, Nelson described in this paper the eruptive behavior of Mexican volcanoes and cited examples. I have added photographs to illustrate Nelson's description.

Eruptions are preceded by earthquakes and subterranean noises starting several months before the eruptions themselves (Popocatépetl, El Chichón, Colima). 

Popocatépetl blows his top - Ash Eruption (1994)
Notice the ratio of plume to mountain, which itself rises about
10,000 ft. above its prominence (base); then compare this plume to the
ratio of plume to mountain in the 2011 photo (above).

Volcanic eruptions are best considered as eruptive episodes made up of several eruptions. Eruptive episodes may last for days (El Chichón), or years (Paricutin).

Long repose (inactive) times between eruptions usually result in extremely violent activity when dormant volcanoes reawaken (Popocatépetl, El Chichón). 

Volcanoes that erupt violently can affect areas at long distances (Toluca, Orizaba). Ash falls (eruptions) usually accompany eruptions that produce lava flows (Xitle). 

Ash Eruption, El Chichón (1982)

Lava Crater at El Chichón (1982)

Finally, nearly all types of volcanic eruptions cause changes in existing drainage that may result in flooding even of areas at great distances from the actual intense volcanic activity (Paricutin, El Chichón). 

Mythology Arises Where Man Meets the Forces of Nature

We have to wonder how Mexico's early peoples explained these episodes of violence in their mythology, or worldview. An earlier post describes the ritual activity undertaken at Cuicuilco, an early agrarian community buried in lava ash when nearby Xitle erupted.

Perhaps a clue is to be found in the essential duality (life/death; creation/destruction; hot/cold; peace/war) that suffused the Mesoamerican Cosmovision (Worldview).

In the quotation introducing this post, Dr. Yarza characterizes volcanoes by underscoring their inherent duality: Volcanoes are capable of arousing in the thoughts and feelings of their beholders a sense of "wonderment for their majesty" and "terror in their devastation".

Popocatépetl in Snow-Capped Majesty of Popocatéptel
Photo: William Melson, 1968 (Smithsonian Institution)

Popocatépetl spewing Lava-Fire

A profound recognition of duality as an essential component of reality remains a powerful theme in Mexican culture. To this end, Professor Yarza invites us to focus not solely on the destructive aspects of volcanoes, but to recognize the creative 'souvenirs' left behind destructive volcanic episodes.

The adjectives Professor Yarza chooses to describe these volcanic souvenirs conveys their essential meaning:

"...fascinating rock formations, enchanting lakes, refreshing springs, healing waters, playful geysers, delightful waterfalls, sylvan mountain scenery, and ... majestic snow-covered peaks."

It is not possible for me to cite Yarza's words without hearing their echo in the words of an indigenous friend. In a discussion of increasing cartel activity apparent in the countryside surrounding Pátzcuaro, my friend matter-of-factly characterized the activity as el desorden, the disorder. Unspoken is the implicit duality:

Orden/Desorden, Order/Disorder, Creation/Destruction, Dormant/Active.

Lest I convey the impression that volcanic images are meaningful only to indigenous peoples, let me relate a similar conversation with a Mexican acquaintance de arriba (educated, upper class). During another discussion of cartel activity around Pátzcuaro, she observed,

"Most of the time it is quiet, but every once in awhile there are isolated, violent episodes."

I responded by likening the activity to the volcanic field around Paricutín:

"...most of the time it is quiet, but then a volcano erupts in a new place...like Paricutín."   

Her quick, surprised smile said, "Oh, I hadn't realized ... Jenny gets it."

A web site (scroll down) dedicated to descriptions, photos and even videos of many of Mexico's volcanoes includes a short (27 sec.) video of Popocatépetl's 1994 eruption. Struck by the sound of the eruption, I found myself asking,

"What might early peoples have made of such a ferocious display?"

One obvious explanation is that early peoples were forced to recognize both the possibilities and dangers posed by their natural environment. The rise of Mesoamerican civilization and the purpose of its mythology can be understood as pragmatic and ritualistic communal efforts to benefit from the potentials of this environment while seeking to influence and thereby protect themselves from the risks (earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, droughts, floods).

In this sense, it would have made sense for common people and rulers alike to regard a volcanic eruption as an expression of their gods' rage. Conversely, a peaceful time between eruptive episodes might appear to constitute evidence that rulers and common people alike were acting in harmony with the requirements of their spiritually charged countryside. In fact, the value of maintaining a harmonious relationship with the natural environment remains a primary cultural value in rural Mexico. 

If we are open to their message, Mexico's volcanoes can teach us a lot.

Frida Kahlo Museum: Behind the Green Door

Like most Mexican houses, the walls of Frida Kahlo's and Diego Rivera's Casa Azul rise straight up from the sidewalk. Reed and I are forever trying to catch a glimpse of what's behind the doors.

Muséo Frida Kahlo, Coyoacán 

But we were not at all prepared for what awaited us when we walked through the green door of Frida Kahlo's Casa Azul (Blue House).

The Garden, unexpectedly large, opens out to the right; at the left, is Casa Azul, which reflects Diego's influence in many ways.

Several large trees grow in well-tended plantings. A friend told me that as a labor of love, a Coyoacán artist in 'cut paper' is restoring the gardens to Mexican plantings.  

Winding paths lined with pedregal (volcanic stones) beckon visitors to wander. 

Pre-Columbian stone sculptures are set among the plantings; stone benches invite quiet reflections.

'Ring' used in Mesoamerican Ball Games

Dramatic piece of pedregal (volcanic stone) showing curving flows of lava.

And more than one fountain. The young people are walking down the garden staircase from Frida's day room. The studio juts out to the left.

This property first belonged to Frida Kahlo's parents. Frida's father was a well-known portrait-photographer of Jewish-Hungarian descent; her mother's family was Spanish born in Mexico. Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo lived in this house from 1929 to 1954, during which time they imprinted it with their artistic and aesthetic sensibilities.

They also left remnants of their passionate love-hate for each other—captured in this short poem.

"El diablo es rubio

Y en sus azules ojos

Dos estrellitas encendió el amor,

Con su corbata y sus calzones rojos,

El diablo me parece encantador."

Frida Kahlo

"The devil is blonde

And in his blue eyes

Two little stars, inflamed love,

With his red tie and underwear

The devil seems like a charmer."

Frida Kahlo

Frida's Early Life

Born July 7, 1907, Frida died July 13, 1954, at the age of 47. She died where she was born, in the Casa Azul, Coyoacán, Mexico. In 1913, at the age of six, she contracted poliomyelitis, which shriveled her right leg. 

In 1922, Frida was one of the first girls admitted to the National Preparatory (High) School (Escuela Nacional Preparatoria) of Mexico City—the most prestigious educational institution in Mexico. While there, her pranks propelled her to leader of a group of young rebels dedicated to playing pranks on their teachers.

While was attending Prepa (High School), she came into contact for the first time with her future husband, the well-known Mexican muralist Diego Rivera, who had been commissioned to paint a mural in the school's auditorium.

In 1925, she learned engraving techniques from Fernando Fernández Domínguez. However, in the same year, physical disaster struck again—this time it was a trolley car accident. Her spine, numerous ribs, and her neck were broken. Her pelvis was shattered. Her right foot and her shoulder were dislocated. The final insult was a railing that penetrated her abdomen from the left side. 

Medical practice at the time called for multiple surgeries, submission to numerous apparatuses designed to stretch her muscles, and wearing special corsets. Over her lifetime, Frida would endure 32 surgeries. Frida Kahlo's life was marked by disability accompanied by chronic physical pain. 

The need to remain supine during her lengthy convalescence brought on profound boredom that Frida relieved by beginning to paint. In 1926, still in her convalescence, she painted a self portrait that turned out to be the first in a long series in which she expressed the events of her life and her emotional reaction to them.

“Pinto auto retratos

porque estoy mucho tiempo sola”.

Frida Kahlo

"I paint self portraits

because I am alone much of the time."

Frida Kahlo

She painted the majority of her paintings stretched out in her bed or in her bathtub.  Her successful recuperation, including the ability to walk again, was made possible only because of  her tremendous energy and indomitable will to live, which might have crippled—if not killed—a lesser spirit.

Following her recuperation, a good friend introduced her to the Mexico City art scene, where Frida came into contact with numerous artists and photographers, including the muralist Diego Rivera.

In 1938, the poet and essayist André Bretón wrote the introduction for a showing of Frida's work at the Julien Levy gallery in New York City. In it, Bretón categorized Kahlo's work as 'surrealist'. In spite of the critical judgment of the famous Frenchman, Kahlo wrote much later, "He believed that my work was 'surrealist', but it wasn't. Never once did I paint my dreams or nightmares. I painted my own reality." ("Creían que yo era surrealista, pero no lo era. Nunca pinté mis sueños ni mis pesadillas. Pinté mi propia realidad.")

Viewing her paintings, who can doubt that reality as she experienced it was, in fact, 'surreal'?

Sin esperanza - Without hope

“El dolor no es parte de la vida, 

se puede convertir en la vida misma.”

Frida Kahlo

"Pain is not part of life,

one can convert it into life itself."

Frida Kahlo

El Árbol de la Esperanza - Tree of Hope

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera were married in 1929. Diego was enormous, obese, whereas Frida was small, delicate, which led their friends to comment their marriage was the union of elephant and dove.

Frida and Diego—Elephant and Dove

The relationship of Frida and Diego was a passionate mix of love, liaisons with others (Frida was bi-sexual), creative synergies, and hate, which culminated in divorce in 1939. Divorce, however, did not end their stormy relationship.  On December 8, 1940, they quietly remarried in San Francisco, California.

Before we moved to Mexico, Reed and I visited San Miguel de Allende as a potential home. While there, we went to an exhibit of Frida Kahlo's writings to Diego Rivera. Nothing I am capable of writing could possibly communicate the depth and passion of this complicated, powerful, love-hate relationship.

Of passionate love...

“Te quiero...gracias por que vives, 

porque ayer me dejaste tocar tu luz más íntima 

y porque dijiste con tu voz y tus ojos 

lo que yo esperaba toda mi vida.”

Frida Kahlo

"I love you...thankful for why you live,

because yesterday you carried me to touch your most intimate light

and because you spoke with your voice and your eyes

what I have wanted all my life."

Frida Kahlo

Of equally passionate hate...

Yo sufrí dos accidentes graves en mi vida, 

uno en el que un autobús me tumbó al suelo…

el otro accidente es Diego. 

De los dos, Diego es el peor."

Frida Kahlo

"I suffered two grave accidents in my life,

one was the trolley that slammed me to the ground...

the other accident is Diego.

Of the two, Diego is the worst."

Frida Kahlo

Life at Casa Azul

The personal rooms at Casa Azul permit us a glimpse into the personal lives of this larger-than-life couple. A long, gradual stone ramp provided Frida easy access to these rooms, which are one flight above ground level. A series of living rooms now house a representative collection of Frida's work and of Diego's as well.

Visitors enter the personal rooms through the comedor (dining room).

High ceilings, a skylight—Diego's idea?—and generous windows create a welcoming, friendly space where Diego and Frida entertained such guests as the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda and David Rockefeller.

The comedor gives entrance to a stone stairwell which, in turn, leads to the doorway of the colorful kitchen.  Sun shining through generous high windows make this a bright, airy space. I love this kitchen.

Some cooking pots shown here are heirlooms; they are no longer made.

The stove is traditional, wood-burning. 

Firewood burns in long 'shafts' set among the yellow tiles. Notice the metate for grinding corn peeking out from under the cook stove. 

Diego Rivera's bedroom is at one side of the dining room.

Diego's bedroom is small, but with high ceilings and a large window

Dresser, with Diego's death mask in miniature

Climbing the stairs leads to the entrance to Frida's and Diego's sunlit studio.

Paints and brushes on Frida's desk.

Frida's wheelchair parked in front of her easel.

In the next room is Frida's Day Bed. Note the mirror straight above the bed. Frida's mother had it installed during Frida's lengthy, boring convalescence following the trolley car accident. Seeing herself reflected in the mirror made it possible for Frida to paint her first self portrait. 

At the foot of the bed hangs Frida's gallery of heroes: Stalin, Unknown, Lenin, Marx, Mao.  Like many other artists and intellectuals of the time, she and Diego were members of the Mexican Communist Party

Sculpture of nude woman on Frida's dresser. 

Frida Kahlo is widely acknowledged as the first female artist to paint without inhibition about the female experience. We have visited the Frida Kahlo Museum twice; each time we have been struck by the youthfulness of other visitors. Visitors of 'a certain age' make up a distinct minority. 

Life Goes On...

Despite Diego's affairs with other women, including Frida's own sister, the muralist helped Frida in many ways. It was Diego who suggested that she wear traditionally-inspired, colorful Mexican dress and exotic jewelry.

 When Frida wore it, traditional dress took on an added dimension.

Combined with her unusual eyebrows, this dress style created Frida's inimitable image—recognized around the world even today.

Frida—elegant in a stylized traditional dress—showcasing a pre-Columbian sculpture.

Beautiful example of Frida's style...

...held together, supported always by the ever-present corset

Diego loved Frida's paintings. He was her most devoted fan. For her part, Frida was the primary critic of Diego's work. In response to Diego's growing reputation in the United States, he and Frida lived in the U.S. from 1931 to 1934, principally in New York City and Detroit.

While in New York, Frida spontaneously aborted their child, which devastated her. Owing to her many injuries, Frida was unable to bear a child—a tragic reality that Frida was able to accept only after many years of deep emotional pain. As always, she dealt with the pain by painting it. These paintings are excruciating for their stark, brutal honesty, painful to view.

Exiled from Russia, the political dissident León Trotsky lived with his wife at Frida Kahlo's house from 1937 to 1939. Actually, the Kahlo property is large, and the Trotskys lived in a small house at the opposite end of the garden from Frida's and Diego's house.

León Trotsky and his wife were guests in this small house

Garden planting in front of house where the Trotskys stayed.

During this time, Frida had an affair with Trotsky. After his assassination by a member of Stalin's secret police, Frida was accused of instigating the assassination. Fortunately, at the last moment, the authorities relented, and neither she nor Diego were arrested. One might reasonably speculate that the affair with Trotsky and related hubbub surrounding his assassination were contributing factors leading to Diego's and Frida's 1939 divorce.

Frida's Final Years and Death

In the spring of 1953, the Galería de Arte Contemporáneo of Mexico City organized an important exhibit of Kahlo's work. It was the only exhibit mounted in Mexico during Frida's lifetime.

Unfortunately, Frida's health was very bad, and her doctors prohibited her from getting out of bed to attend the exhibit. In typical fashion, Frida devised a unique solution to the challenge. Minutes after guests were admitted to the gallery, sirens were heard in the distance. Arriving at the gallery in an ambulance with a police escort, sirens blaring, Frida was lifted from the stretcher onto a bed brought on a flatbed truck.

Then four strong men carried Frida on her bed into the gallery, where she held forth during the entire afternoon exhibition as the artist-diva she truly was. Her many fans gathered round to greet her. Frida made jokes, sang and drank tequila, just as she had always done. It goes without saying that the exhibit was a resounding success!

Later that year, it became necessary to amputate her right foot below the knee due to gangrene. At first, she showed resilience:

Below her amputated foot, Frida wrote, "Pies, para que los quiero si tengo alas para volar” ("Feet,  what do I want them for, if I have wings to fly"). On the right is a hatchling; breaking free of the egg, wings  outstretched, ready to fly.

Similarly, she wrote,

“Intenté ahogar mis dolores, 

pero ellos aprendieron a nadar”.

Frida Kahlo

"I tried to drown my pains, 

but they learned how to swim."
Frida Kahlo

The amputation was the final physical assault. Robbed of all mobility, a major depression descended upon Frida. Unable to do much of anything during this time, she wrote poems in her diary. Most of them dealt with  her pain and regrets. Here's her last entry:

“Espero alegre la salida 

y espero no volver jamás”.

Frida Kahlo

"I cheerfully await the exit

and I hope never to return."

Frida Kahlo 

When asked how she wanted her body buried after her death, she replied emphatically, "Not burial!  I've laid down long enough!" 

Frida Kahlo's Death Mask...resting on her Day Bed.

Upon her death, Frida's body was cremated, and her ashes were placed in a pre-Columbian urn that now rests at the Casa Azul, where she was born.

Still Curious?

Poking around the Internet, I came upon this excellent summary of Frida Kahlo's life.  At the end of the article is a UTube film (3:36 second) with rare live footage of Frida and Diego.

Set to Mexican music, the silent images are arresting.  Frida had a real dramatic flair, which is beautifully captured on the film.  Be patient, scroll down the text until you see the familiar UTube:  
http://dejenmevivir.wordpress.com/2011/01/21/frida-kahlo-_-%E2%80%9Cyo-sufri-dos-accidentes-graves-en-mi-vida%E2%80%A6-el-otro-accidente-es-diego%E2%80%9D/

I also found this useful list of 'phrases' written by Frida Kahlo, also in Spanish:  http://listas.20minutos.es/lista/frases-de-frida-kahlo-294455/

For English-speakers, this tribute provides the introduction to a Frida Kahlo web site: http://www.fridakahlo.com/