Mexican Muralists: Orozco, Rivera, Siqueiros by Desmond Rochfort

The definitive history of the Mexican mural renaissance
This 1993 book by British scholar and artist Desmond Rochfort is perhaps the most authoritative work covering the “big three” artists of the Mexican mural movement: José Clemente Orozco, Diego Rivera, and David Alfaro Siqueiros. The book functions as both a scholarly monograph on the subject and as a coffee table book, combining an in-depth examination of the murals of these three artists with over 150 beautifully reproduced photographs.

Rochfort begins with an overview of the Mexican Revolution of 1910, outlining the historical and political context out of which the Mexican mural movement arose. He then goes on to describe how the mural renaissance in Mexico grew out of the influence of three important people: inspirational precursor José Guadalupe Posada, artist and educator Gerardo Murillo (a.k.a. Dr. Atl), and educational administrator José Vasconcelos. From this starting point, Rochfort interweaves the stories of Orozco, Rivera, and Siqueiros, following their lives and careers from the Revolution until their deaths. He explains the evolution of each individual artist, how they influenced and competed with one another, and how they jointly created a uniquely Mexican form of artistic expression that examined national identity and advocated social and political reform. Rochfort does not cover every mural that each of these artists produced, but he does cover the lion’s share of each, not only the best-known examples but also some more obscure selections as well. The focus of the book is strictly limited to the “big three.” Other Mexican muralists are barely mentioned, and none of their works are pictured.

The text is insightful and informative throughout, though it is definitely penned by a Ph.D. and not intended as an introduction for the general reader. Some prior knowledge of Mexican art and history is required to fully understand the points Rochfort is making, but his prose is clear and precise, and he never diverges into esoteric art theory. The book is lavishly illustrated with stunning photographs, and Rochfort does a great job of discussing the images without insulting the reader’s intelligence by pointlessly describing what’s right there on the printed page. It’s impossible to show every inch of each mural discussed, but the detail shots are well chosen. A couple dozen of the photos are in black and white. Many of these are period photos, but even some of the big mural shots are printed in black and white, for no apparent reason other than to save money on printing. Were the book published today, rather than two decades ago, most likely such images would all be printed in color. At least one photo—Orozco’s mural at the National Teachers’ School—is flipped horizontally. Also, the design of the book results in some of the smaller photos being so small as to hinder their usefulness. 

Despite these nitpicking complaints, the book is a stunning achievement. For each of the three artists examined here, one could find a more comprehensive text covering their individual work—Diego Rivera: A Retrospective, published by the Detroit Institute of Arts, for example, comes to mind. However, for an overview of the mural movement as a whole and its historical, cultural, and social context, Mexican Muralists: Orozco, Rivera, Siqueiros is the best book I’ve ever seen. Even though the challenging text may be intimidating for some, any fan of Mexican art should own this book for the pictures alone.

Diego Rivera, El hombre controlador del universo, 1934, Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexico City

David Alfaro Siqueiros, Nueva Democracía, 1945, Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexico City

José Clemente Orozco, Katharsis, 1935, Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexico City

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An Autobiography by Jose Clemente Orozco

Largely absent from his own life story
Jose Clemente Orozco was one of the leaders of the Mexican mural movement and an important painter of the early 20th century. Unfortunately, you’re not going to learn much about him from this book. Though he lived through the upheaval of the Mexican Revolution and contributed to the dynamic transformation of Mexican art, Orozco seems remarkably blasé about it all. For the most part he reports political and cultural events with the detachment of a disinterested bystander, and says little about himself in the process.

Although Orozco writes with a degree of wry, cynical wit that’s not without its charms, the reader finds himself wishing for a little more sincerity. When moments of enthusiasm do appear, they are few and far between. One gets some inkling of the exuberance felt by the young Mexican artists as they determined to break with European traditions and form a uniquely Mexican expression. However, after enumerating the founding objectives of the revolutionary Syndicate of Painters and Sculptors, Orozco then goes on to explain how they failed to achieve almost every one of those objectives. Later in New York, Orozco becomes enamored with Dynamic Symmetry, the mathematical analysis of proportions in classical art conceived by Jay Hambidge. Orozco devotes several pages to Dynamic Symmetry, but his description of the theory is difficult to decipher. Perhaps this may be attributed to the translation by Robert C. Stephenson, which overall is way too literal, even going so far as to let the reader know that the “Venus de Milo” in fact means “Venus of Milo.” A little more syntactical license on the part of the translator would have made for a smoother read.

For the most part Orozco defines himself in negative terms. That is to say, he talks a lot about what he doesn’t believe in without telling us much about what he does believe in. He’s against the traditional academic methods of art instruction, but when modernism comes along and elevates the status of the uneducated artist, he’s against that too. He’s against the imperialism of European modernism, but doesn’t care much for the resurgence of indigenous pride in Mexico either. He doesn’t seem to want to commit to any political movement, or even to any nation. He considers himself a citizen of the world, and feels most at home in that most worldly of cities, New York.

A certain degree of egotism may be required to write a good autobiography. From this book one might surmise that Orozco had a very small ego indeed. His contemporaries Diego Rivera and David Alfaro Siqueiros may have been pompous, self-aggrandizing blowhards, but perhaps that’s the kind of personality required to pen an interesting and engaging memoir. There may be a good biography of Orozco out there somewhere, but he didn’t write it.
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