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Diego Rivera-my Art, My Life

Diego Rivera-my Art, My Life

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Published by kokorikoko
Diego Rivera-my Art, My Life
Diego Rivera-my Art, My Life

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Published by: kokorikoko on Oct 26, 2009
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01/16/2014

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DIEGO RIVERAMY ART, MY LIFE: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY(WITH GLADYS MARCH)
# Foreward by Gladys March# Geographical, Genealogical# Tale of a Goat and a Mouse# The Three Old GentlemenWelcome the New Iconoclast# My Three Ambitions# I Begin the Draw# We Move to Mexico City# Schools# My First Experience of Love# The Beginning and End of aMilitary Career# At the San Carlos School of Fine Arts# Three Early Masters# Posada# Pre-Conquest Art# An Experiment in Cannibalism# My First Grant# Murillo Atl# Passage of Anger# My Spanish Friends# Desolate Landscapes# Checkbooks in My Fingers# Art Student in Paris# Private Property# No More Cezannes# The Sun Worshippers of Bruges# Beggars in Top Hats# A Qualified Success# Where I Was in 1910# Homecoming!# A Witchcraft Cure# Revolutionary With a Paintbox# A Plot to Kill Diaz# Dehesa# Sea Duty# Reunion with Angeline# Picasso# War# Your Painting is Like theOthers!# Marievna# An End and a Beginning# In Italy# I Am Reborn: 1921# Lupe# An Apparition of Frida# The Mexican Renaissance# The Ministry of Education andChapingo# Hitler# Stalin# Moscow Sketches# An Inspiration# H.P.# The Assassination of Julio Mella# I Am Expelled From the Party# Cuernavaca# Frida Becomes My Wife# A Bid To Paint in the SanFrancisco Stock Exchange# One-Man Show in the Museumof Modern Art# A Visit with Henry Ford# The Battle of Detroit# Frida's Tragedy# Holocaust in Rockefeller Center# Reconstruction# The Nazis Learn How to Dealwith Me# Pani Loses an Eye# An Invitation From Mussolini# Frida: Triumph and Anguish# Trotsky# The Enormous Necktie# A Visit With Charlie Chaplin# A Salute by the U.S. Navy# Trotsky Again -- Dead# A Second Time with Frida# More Popular Than WendellWillkie# Pin-Ups, Saloon Style# A Home For My Idols# A Sunday In Alameda Park# Cardinal Dougherty Defends# Aftermaths# Underwater# Another Storm# Cancer# Yet Another Storm# Frida Dies# Emma -- I am Here Still
FOREWORD
GENETICALLY, THIS BOOK BEGAN as a newspaper interview whichRivera granted me in the spring of 1944. But it did not begin toassume the proportions of a book -- even in my mind -- until thefollowing year when we first discussed my writing it. I spent sixmonths with Rivera in 1945, working hard at what he would call "thepreliminary sketch." In the years that followed, usually summers, Iwould go down to Mexico for a month or two to review andsupplement my notes and to find out what "news" had occurred sincemy previous visit. Diego Rivera's was an active and many-sidedpersonality: his mind was quick, his imagination staggering; so therewas always much to be added. The interviews which began in 1944ended in 1957 because my notes, now bulking over two thousandpages, suggested that I might now have all I needed.From the outset, Rivera framed much of his dialogue in the form of short personal narratives, and these narratives compose the skeletonas well as much of the meat of this book. But a good deal of his talk,too, consisted of anecdotes, unguarded remarks, and opinions on art,people, and politics, which I later interpolated in their proper places inthe story.
 
Fortunately for me, Rivera seemed to be flattered by the continualattentions of a young American woman. I literally walked in hisshadow, and he let me go with him everywhere as he spun his tales.Most of our dictating sessions took place while Rivera was engaged inpainting, at his studio. But conversations ran over into mealtimes, andI made notes in his car en route to lectures or parties, in his home, andon walks. I met his wives, his daughters, his friends -- many of thepeople who appear in this book.In collating my notes, I found that much that Rivera had said orallycould stand up as writing, or could not be changed without some loss,call it the flavor of his personality. Of course, nobody's dialogue isconsistently good, but wherever I pared phrases, unwound sentences,or lopped off tautologies and digressions, I endeavored to remainfaithful to Rivera's style. Essentially, this is Rivera's own story, told inhis words. As such, it may not always coincide with what other peoplemight call "the facts." Elie Faure was one of the first to recognize adominant quality of the artist's mind: "Mythologer, I said to myself,perhaps even mythomaniac!"Rivera, who was afterwards, in his work, to transform the history of Mexico into one of the great myths of our century, could not, inrecalling his own life to me, suppress his colossal fancy. He hadalready converted certain events, particularly of his early years, intolegends. Both Bertram D. Wolfe and Ernestine Evans, who wrote booksabout him, grappled with this problem. And the reader will react to itaccording to his purposes as he encounters it here. My task, however,was to be neither judge nor censor. An autobiography mustencompass the whole man: what he has made of the facts, as well asthe facts themselves.In addition to recording and organizing Rivera's dictation, and makinggrammatical and literary changes in the text, I added -- always withhis approval -- material from previously published books, articles, andinterviews to fill in such gaps as inevitably appeared. For this reason,however, no claim can be laid to completeness or definitiveness. Therewere aspects of his life which Rivera did not care to recall, and as hisamanuensis, I could only respect his reticence.The artist's account of his relations with Leon Trotsky, for instance, allbut conceals a genuine attraction he felt toward Trotsky's FourthInternational. But when I met Rivera, in 1944, he was seekingreadmittance into the Communist Party. For this reason, also, hisdescription of his journey to Russia in 1927 omits much that he hadearlier confided to his biographer, Bertram D. Wolfe, particularly of hisskirmishes with Soviet bureaucrats, artists, and art theorists.But a man's life is his own, and his summation of it is his own, too. AsI go over this book for the last time in manuscript, I think that it is one

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