Jose Maria Velasco - "Bridge at Metlac"

September 26th, 2012

     Yesterday's class discussion initially, wasn't my favorite. I am still warming up to the Humanities and trying to figure out just exactly how all of "this" works. All of my classmates seem to be able to analyze and dissect works of art with great ease as if it were something completely natural. I'm learning that that is certainly not the case, but am gradually learning to appreciate great Latin American works of art. A great deal of progress was made immediately after class when I spoke with both Professor Mack and Emily (toss me an extra point here for the "shout-out" Emily). They explained to me the process of focusing on a work of art as a whole and then diving into what catches my attention most. The specifics and minute details of a work of art are where the real meaning is hidden and must be uncovered.
     We were introduced in our reading this week to the art of one of the greatest of all Mexican painters, Jose Maria Velasco. Velasco is famous for his impressionism and beautiful depictions of the Valley of Mexico. While reading the assigned text and studying his paintings found in the text, all I could think was, "Wow, this guy painted the same picture numerous times." Our class discussion, however, really opened my eyes and helped me realize how important one's land is and how strong of a connection can be made to that special place that we all call "home." The following painting by Velasco entitled, "Bridge at Metlac" captures those feelings:

Jose Maria Velasco - "Bridge at Metlac"
(Dawn Ades, Art in Latin America, 108)

     Eyes "blind to the arts" look at Velasco's paintings and see exactly what one of his greatest critics, Altamirano, saw. Altamirano criticized Velasco of being far too concerned with locality, regionalism, and for restricting himself artistically to the same dry, yellowish-brown landscape of the Valley of Mexico. That's exactly what I saw until Professor Mack proposed an interesting question that really got me thinking, "Does the passion one feel for the place where they come from manifest itself in art when a depiction of that very place is created by the native?" Those weren't the exact words, but it really got me thinking. Immediately after, the floor was open to us to discuss our own states/homes. Incredible was the participation and desire to share one's own thoughts an opinions on where they were from and how they viewed Provo, Utah from through a "foreigner's" lens. Those feelings expressed in our class discussion are precisely what come to mind for me when I see the aforementioned painting.

Mexico City-Veracruz railway (modern photograph)

     I come from Oklahoma. The jokes are endless as to how "exciting" that state can be. I, however, am always ready to defend my home state and build-up its greatness in the eyes of the naysayer. In this very painting, I feel like that's what Velasco does with the beautiful flora and fauna. I have never visited the Valley of Mexico but the vegetation in the foreground of the painting couldn't be more vibrant, wild, and inviting. The majestic river flowing, beneath the symbol of industrial revolution in motion (the train in itself), is simple yet constant and represents the "old" being done away by the "new." Something that really caught my attention from the beginning was the all-expansive vastness of the sky. The hard, earthy colors of the valley contrast beautifully with the open, liberating colors of the sky. Physical land features aside, no matter the viewer, the train will always be a point of interest. The text explains that Velasco often celebrated the modernization of Mexico (thus, exposing his European influences) in his artwork. Initially, the dark, haunting image of the ever-nearing train towards the viewer presents feelings of animosity and negativity towards the progressive state of Mexico in the mid to late 1800's however, upon further examination my feelings did start to change. Apart from the towering bridge and thundering locomotive with it's fiery lights, my attention was drawn to the origin of the train. It appears that it's recently appeared from some sort of tunnel jutting outward from the face of a mountain (notice the concrete wall at the beginning of the tracks) as if to represent, just as the river does, the progression of Mexico into the industrial age.
     In Jose Maria Velasco's, "Bridge at Metlac," two worlds combine to form a new and improved Mexico and nobody was or is more capable of expressing that optimism than Velasco through his artwork.