Found 336 Resources containing: Muralists
In developing the Perú: Pachamama program, the curatorial team crisscrossed the country, from the urban scenes of Lima and Iquitos to the beach town of Huanchaco. Our travels helped us better understand Peruvian folklife, and by the end I was absolutely sure of at least one thing: Peru must be the world’s No. 1 consumer of paint.
There were political campaign slogans and icons painted on homes, advertisements for bottled water or cell phone services painted on the sides of restaurants, declarations of “this property is not for sale” painted on private entrances, registration numbers painted on taxis, and signage painted on all kinds of stores. The most impactful use of paint, however, was in the ubiquitous murals.
Murals bring art into the public sphere, which has the mutual benefit of providing artists a wide audience who in turn has a chance to appreciate art outside a gallery or museum. They can function as a means of communication for the socially marginalized and can be an effective tool in creating dialogue. Although we saw murals in almost every large city we visited, it seemed that Lima was especially chock-full of them. Each work has its own appeal and message, which breaks up the monotony of the urban landscape and illuminates topics that resonate with the people of the city.
Muralists across the world face certain challenges in their work. In addition to economic barriers, they must surmount the negative connotations associated with street art and the laws that forbid it—even when murals are commissioned by property owners or the government. However, like many other artists, they often find inspiration in their constraints, whether they be physical, cultural, religious, or ideological.
Chicha music and the associated graphic art form definitely fall into this category. This genre developed as individuals from rural areas moved into urban environments and expressed their feelings of marginalization as migrant communities. The chicha-style murals we saw in Lima were much more than graffiti: they painted a picture (no pun intended) of a shared experience of migration and adaptation to a contemporary urban environment. Representing a growing aspect of modern Peruvian culture, there will be multiple music and visual artists representing the chicha tradition at the 2015 Folklife Festival.
As meaningful, beautiful, and important as we found this art form to be, not everyone shares our admiration. On March 13, municipal workers began painting over murals throughout Lima’s historic district. Officials expressed concern that the city would lose its UNESCO declaration as a World Cultural Heritage Site and, after citing an ordinance from 1994 requiring the maintenance of the city’s historic architecture, announced the plan to eliminate all murals from the center of Lima. Critics say that the decision was political—rejecting public art programs and murals commissioned by previous administrations. Whatever the reasons, over that single weekend, dozens of murals were erased.
One of my personal favorites, which I posted to our Instagram in October, was among those painted over, and one of future Festival participant Elliot Túpac’s emblematic murals, with the phrase “Antes Soñaba” or “I used to dream,” was also erased. Gone too are many of the murals created in the 2013 LatidoAmericano festival, organized by Peruvian street artists.#SalvemosLosMurales (save the murals) and #BorraronUnoPintaremosMil (they erased one, we’ll paint a thousand), as well as staged protests in front of murals so they would not be painted over. Where murals once were, you can now find graffitied phrases and images of protest. One group has tagged the city with QR codes, which activate an augmented reality smartphone app showing the murals that once adorned those now blank walls.
The question at the heart of this conflict is how and by whom culture is defined. The disappearance of murals in Lima is a significant loss, as they reflected the shared experience and culture of many city residents. However, just as many of these erased murals rose in deference to the marginalization of the artists and their work, it seems as though new works will rise from their ashes in the face of further criticism. Even though their physical form is no longer visible in the streets, these murals will continue to live in the memory of the public as integral to the vibrant culture of Lima.
Alexia Fawcett is the community engagement manager for the Perú: Pachamama program.
Pele deLappe, al igual que muchas mujeres de su generación, se enfrentó al reto de cultivar una carrera artística a la vez que criaba a sus hijos y se ganaba la vida. Creado en 1938, este dibujo en grafito capta su belleza y seguridad, anunciando un buen comienzo. DeLappe, nacida en San Francisco, conocía a Diego Rivera y solía reunirse a dibujar con su esposa, Frida Kahlo. A principios de los años treinta, DeLappe estudió en la Liga de Estudiantes de Arte de Nueva York, pero regresó a San Francisco en 1934, planeando dedicarse a temas social-realistas. Sin embargo, su estilo reflejaba la influencia de los muralistas mexicanos, entre ellos Rivera y su buen amigo David Alfaro Siqueiros, más que el estilo de bocetos rápidos de sus paisanos neoyorquinos. Sus litografías de la década de 1930 muestran una sensibilidad muralista, con composiciones simplificadas, amplios planos, punto de vista bajo y figuras de aliento heroico. Este autorretrato de pose estática y contornos definidos comparte esa estética monumental.
In his letter to Reuben Kadish, Philip Guston discusses various muralists and their work including that of David Alfaro Siqueiros, Harold Lehman, and Jimmy Brooks and describes the status of the W.P.A. project in New York at the time.
Date based on era of Rivera's work in New York.
Identification on verso (handwritten): Diego Rivera & wife; New York
Photograph of Diego Rivera standing on the roof of his studio in Mexico City, Mexico, where he lived between 1932 and 1939.
Item should be viewed with Digital Item ID# 19801, Emmy Lou Packard's notes about the photograph, which explain its provenance.
Date based on date of commission and work on mural.
Black and white portrait of Diego Rivera, seated and holding what may be a xoloitzcuintli dog, with Frida Kahlo, standing.
These prints became popular as lithography was introduced to 19th Century Americans. As a new art form, it was affordable for the masses and provided a means to share visual information by crossing the barriers of race, class and language. Sentimental prints encouraged the artistic endeavors of schoolgirls and promoted the ambitions of amateur artists, while serving as both moral instruction and home or business decoration. They are a pictorial record of our romanticized past.
This three-quarter length colored portrait print is of a young woman standing at a railing. The girl is looking back over her right shoulder. She is wearing a large hat with feathers and dress with large billowing sleeves. To her left there is heavy drapery with a tassel.
This lithograph was done by Anthony Imbert, a lithographer and marine painter based in New York. He was active as an artist from 1825 until his death in around 1838. He was born in France and became a French naval officer. He learned to paint after he was imprisoned by the British. When he was released, he came to the United States and developed a career as a lithographer and marine painter. He pioneered many new forms of lithography including a folding lithograph by joining two stories to create a larger print. The artist Dominico Canova was born in Milan, Italy. He immigrated to New York City in 1825, where he began his work as a lithographer under Anthony Imbert. He was primarily known in Louisiana as a teacher of painting and drawing, a muralist and painter. After a few years working under Anthony Imbert he accepted a teaching position in Convent Louisiana, at the College of Jefferson. Throughout the rest of his career, he held various teaching positions at different colleges and schools throughout Louisiana. He died in New Orleans in 1868.