The artistic eminence of Jose Clemente Orozco (1883-1949) is such
that he has been called "the greatest painter the Americas have
produced." In his Autobiography he also attains literary
distinction. He is a writer who recounts the history of his period
from a personal point of view and yet scarcely mentions himself. He
is an observer who writes about the history of his country and of
his country's art, yet makes his own character implicit in the
narrative. The character that emerges is charming. It is that of a
man strong but retiring, sharply critical of what he disapproves
yet generous in praise of what he admires, decided in his views but
modest in his assumptions and given to understatement in describing
his own activities, averse to war and political struggle yet eager
for conflict of ideas, always dedicated to the welfare of humanity.
Through the details of day-by-day living, he presents the panorama
of the Mexican Revolution and of events in other parts of the world
to which he traveled. His is a personal story of the Revolution,
giving his reactions (as those of any common man) to the
barbarities of war: "Insolent leaders, inflamed with alcohol,
taking whatever they wanted at pistol point. . . . By night in dark
streets the sound of gunplay, followed by screams, blasphemies, and
vile insults. Breaking windows, sharp blows, cries of pain, and
shots again." Orozco's ability, as a painter, to see the details
and to sense the mood of a place is apparent in his word pictures
of the places he visited: "After six in the evening Paris is an
immense brothel." "London was like the seat of a noble family which
had been exceedingly rich but had lost its fortune." "Old, old
Montmartre [is] a moldering cadaver . . ." Orozco also makes some
penetrating observations on art itself. Although he emphasizes
individuality and freedom from tradition in art, he abhors
unschooled art, especially such extremes as primitive Impressionism
and other groups that lack instruction in the general principles of
art, in technique, in theory of color, in perspective. He says
ironically of the artistically uneducated: "Blessed are the
ignorant and the imbecile, for theirs is the supreme glory of art!
Blessed are the idiots and the cretins, for masterpieces of
painting shall issue from their hands!" Orozco believes in
education, not only for the artists but for their public. Taste in
art can come only through understanding of the purpose and the
techniques of art-through knowledge. Without training, public taste
"mostly likes sugar, honey, and candy. Diabetic art. The greater
the amount of sugar, the greater the-commercial-success."
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