SINGAPORE — In the 1930s, New York City’s Rockefeller Center was ready to welcome an imposing set of murals done by the famous Mexican artist Diego Rivera — until the project hit a snag. The central mural, titled Man At The Crossroads, included the image of Vladimir Lenin. To see an iconic Communist figurehead photobombing one of capitalist America’s iconic buildings was a bit too much for businessman Nelson Rockefeller, who had it destroyed.

Unfazed, the artist recreated the mural back in Mexico and now, a small reproduction can be seen at Diego Rivera: Pride Of Mexico, a new blockbuster exhibition by the Nanyang Academy Of Fine Arts. Comprising 34 works (and two mural reproductions), the show runs through the controversial artist’s practice spanning 52 years, from 1904 to 1956, a year before he died at the age of 70.

“For many, he’s the most important and iconic artists that represents the very best of Mexican culture,” said Rogelio Granguillhome, Ambassador of Mexico to Singapore.

The works belong to the state of Veracruz, a place that was instrumental in Rivera’s artistic growth - the governor had financed his trip to Europe, which subsequently opened new vistas for the then-developing artist. In the show, one can trace his artistic journey, in particular, his exposure to the avant garde scene in Paris and the burgeoning Russian Revolution, before returning to Mexico armed with a progressive — and even revolutionary — consciousness that was seen in his paintings and murals.

“He was always at the centre of the hurricane,” remarked Mexican journalist and art critic Santiago Espinosa.

ART OF HIS LIFE

Rivera’s formative years were informed by his European adventure. Cubist paintings at the show reveal the movement’s influence on him. He was drawn to the Parisian district of Montparnasse, where artists converged post-World War I (the artist hung out with the likes of Picasso, Gris and Modigliani). Much later in his life, he would soak in the more classical influences of Botticelli as he scoured the museums of Italy. In Paris, he was also exposed to the burgeoning politics of the time. Russia was in the middle of a revolution and Lenin lived two blocks away from where the artists were working, and “he would often have coffee with them,” said Espinosa.

Rivera got caught up in the fervor. He even wanted to go to Russia, since he couldn’t take part in the political upheavals happening in Mexico, but was unsuccessful. So he returned to his homeland in 1921 and joined the Mexican Communist Party instead. He moved away from the avant garde styles he had picked up in Europe and began painting the common folk. He soon became part of a wave of artists who created public murals.

According to Espinosa, Rivera and his muralist peers — notably Jose Clemente Orozco and David Siqueiros — considered themselves workers and saw art playing a vital role in the social changes in Mexico. He would create a total of 5,000 sq m of public murals, populated by all sorts of characters, dipping into his country’s eventful past and colourful present for inspiration. But he was also lived a “contradictory life”, added Espinosa, as a revolutionary who would, in the afternoons, paint portraits of the elite (even as stories of his generosity with people in need abound).

His personal life was just as colourful: His third wife was a certain artist named Frida Kahlo. While she doesn’t figure much in the exhibition — there are, instead, portraits of his first and second wives, Angelina Beloff and Lupe Marin — Kahlo is undoubtedly someone that ultimately comes up in the story of Rivera. The latter even played second fiddle to her in the 2002 biopic Frida, starring Salma Hayek and Alfred Molina. (Kahlo and Rivera also take centrestage in the Barbara Kingsolver novel The Lacuna, with another of their Russian communist friends — and Stalin’s mortal enemy — Leon Trotsky.)

But for Mexicans, there seems to be no doubt as to who’s the more important figure. “The greater painter is Diego. He was incredibly prolific. Frida’s artworks are powerful and interesting, of course, but there was also the ‘myth of Frida’, her life and her diaries,” said Espinosa.

POWER TO THE PEOPLE

Even as Rivera did his murals, he would also simultaneously work on paintings. And the progressive nature of the former would be seen in his portraits of peasants, workers and indigenous people.

“When you see the Indians in his paintings or murals, he’s not making (the image) pretty. He is giving them (their rightful) place and saying ‘This is our people’,” said Espinosa.

Rivera’s influence on Mexico’s modern history is such that Mexicans learn about him from young. Granguillhome recalled: “We studied Rivera in elementary school. They taught you about history through his paintings and we grew up into adults thinking of Rivera.”

His relationship with the succeeding generations of artists, however, is another thing. By the time Rivera had passed away, a new group of artists rebelled against the Mexican muralist school. Called the “Ruptura” or Rupture/Breakaway, many of them took to abstract art instead. However, Espinosa pointed out that in consciously announcing this group as a reaction to the “oldies”, they have also inadvertently acknowledged the existence of Rivera and his peers, and their contributions, too.

No matter how Rivera’s art is evaluated right now, he has become woven into the fabric of Mexico’s history and heritage. “It’s like your grandfather’s letters. You don’t read them daily — and you have to write your own letters — but you know they’re there.”

Diego Rivera: Pride Of Mexico runs until April 12, 11am to 7pm, Lim Hak Tai Gallery, NAFA Campus 1, 80 Bencoolen Street. Free admission. Closed on Mondays and public holidays. Espinosa will be giving a lecture and guided tour today (Feb 14) at 11am. To register, call 6512 6141.