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In 1971 Jean Charlot recalled
how Dr. Sylvanus Griswold Morley came to Mexico to do work
at the ruins of Chichén Itzá. Morley brought
with him a full crew and a ten-year contract between the
Mexican government and the Carnegie Institution of
Washington, D.C. "The only thing he lacked was a draftsman
to record the Mayan images. I got the job" (Morse 1976:46).
As an artist on the archaeological staff he was to copy
bas-reliefs and painted surfaces as they were brought to
light by the diggers. Thus began an adventure for the
"painter-turned-archeologist," which would last from 1926 to
1929 and would profoundly effect his life and
art.
French-Mexican Charlot seems
fated to have spent much of his adult life influenced by the
ancient civilizations of Mexico. In The Mexican Mural
Renaissance (Charlot 1963:9-10) he describes growing up
in Paris, and how his "rattles and hornbooks" were the idols
and Mexican manuscripts from his great uncle Eugene Goupil's
collection. He also recalls that they were his "ABC's of
modern art." Their forms and volumes prepared him to accept
the radical cubisim that was to sweep the French art
scene.
Young Charlot was so caught up
with things pre-Hispanic that at the age of sixteen he wrote to the
Bibliotheque Nationale asking permission to view and copy codices that had
been donated by his great uncle Eugene Goupil. Although he appeared
younger than his years, when he arrived at Bibliotheque he so impressed
the librarian that he was admitted.
The influence of ancient Mexico on
the impressionable youth did not stop with Eugene Goupil. Desiré Charnay,
the internationally known French archaeologist, explorer and photographer
of the ancient cities of Mexico was his grandfather's good friend and
neighbor. M. Charnay re-enacted his jungle adventures for young Charlot,
showed him his photos and even gave him his first pre-Hispanic artifact
(Charlot 1963:179).
After art school in Paris, Charlot
served in the French army during World War I, and then returned to the
Paris art scene. In 1920 at an exposition of liturgical arts held at the
Louvre he showed scale drawings for the mural decorations of a church. As
Charlot recalled (1963:178) one reviewer commented that "'This artist
deserves to be known as a fresco painter...'" Little did the reviewer know
how well he had predicted the future.
Unfortunately the commission for
the proposed mural never materialized, and Charlot found himself an artist
without a wall. Paris seemed barren after his "mural fiasco," and with his
father dead and his sister married, Charlot and his mother decided to go
to Mexico. They landed at Veracruz in 1921 and went to Mexico City where
they were received by Ramos Martínez, director of the San Carlos academy.
In a little more than a year Charlot would finally be embarked on his
first mural project.
At first Charlot assisted Diego
Rivera. It was from Rivera that he must have received his first
eye-witness account of Chichén Itzá and its awesome murals. Vasconcelos,
the newly created Secretary of Public Education, had taken Rivera to
Yucatán in late November of 1921. Charlot (1963:134) records that Rivera
"stood in awe inside the precious inner chamber of the Temple of the
Tigers, still ablaze with twelfth-century frescoes" - battle scenes that
Charlot himself would carefully trace before the decade ended. Later
Charlot (1963:4) would consider the role "this battle piece" played during
the formative period of the modern mural movement.
As a young painter in Mexico,
Charlot was swept up in Mexicanidad - the search for common
spiritual and aesthetic denominators which would establish a racial
aesthetic tradition (Charlot 1972:3). Charlot, like Rivera, Siqueiros and
Tamayo, used indigenismo ("Indianism") as a major theme in his
artistic works. Rivera even went so far as to see echoes of the Chichén
Itzá murals in the folk art of religious retablos. As José Clemente
Orozco (1962:87) recalls, Charlot "used to go along with us to the Museum
of Archeology, where the great Aztec sculptures are on view. They
impressed him profoundly and we would talk for hours of that tremendous
art, which comes down to us and outstrips us, reaching out into the
future. Pre-Cortesian art influenced him to such an extent that his
painting is still saturated with it."
It was not simply that
pre-Hispanic art influenced Charlot. His early experiences in Paris,
cubism, and indigenismo in Mexico opened his eyes to a new
aesthetic. It is not so much that "cubists" were inspired by the blocky
forms and flat planes of Aztec art, but that they were predisposed to see
the aesthetic qualities of ancient stone sculptures (Charlot 1972:35).
Once open to the qualities of these monumental works of art, the muralists
were further taken with (and avidly collected) smaller clay sculptures,
particularly from the states of Colima, Jalisco and Nayarit. In fact,
referring to his 1934 print "Coiffure: Idols" Charlot (Morse 1976:139
[#234]) gives full credit to the "great Tarascan terracotta" that not only
served as a model for the print, but also was "one of the things that
really formed me."
For some observers the muralists
became too enamored with their pre-Hispanic models. When he left Mexico,
this reputation followed him to the United States. Charlot (Morse
1976:123) recounts an anecdote from his days in Los Angeles working with
the printer Kistler. Apparently Kistler expected him to bring a Maya
antiquity to copy, and when he did not, Kistler gained confidence in him
as an artist.
With Charlot's background and
artistic attachment to Mexicanidad and indigenismo, an offer
to be part of the scientific recovery of ancient Maya civilization must
have proven irresistible.
Digging in
Yucatán
Sylvanus G. Morley had been
anxiously waiting for more than a decade to obtain a concession to dig at
Chichén Itzá. Finally in 1923 the concession was signed and, backed by the
wealth and prestige of the Carnegie Institution of Washington, he gathered
his staff. By winter of 1924 Morley and his field director, Earl H.
Morris, began preliminary survey and excavation. They decided to test an
area on the northeast edge of the great plaza where long lines of stone
columns appeared above the surface. Subsequent digging revealed a great
court surrounded by "a thousand columns" flanked by temple mounds and
pyramids.
In January of 1925 the Carnegie
Institution expedition returned full-force for the first of four full
seasons of intensive excavation and reconstruction. Their target was an
enormous tree-crested mound adjacent to the northwest corner of the court
of the thousand columns. When the excavations and restorations were
completed the "Temple of the Warriors" would stand again in all its former
glory.
When Jean Charlot arrived to begin
his copies of the multitudinous sculptured columns surrounding the Temple
of the Warriors, he encountered Ann Axtell Morris, wife of the project
director. Although Mrs. Morris lacked any formal schooling in art, except
for some on the spot training by the copyist Joseph Lindon Smith, she had
been chosen staff artist. In fact, she considered her lack of schooling an
advantage; without any established technique or preconceived notions she
became a "Maya painter" (A. Morris 1931:171).
Although Charlot is silent on his
relationship in the field with Ann Morris, Mrs. Morris is not reticent.
When he chose to help her with the first mural from the Temple of the
Warriors that was being pieced together from fallen blocks, they began a
wrangling relationship which led to battle after battle. Ann Morris
(1931:174) describes Jean Charlot as her "favorite enemy," but at the same
time she acknowledges a debt of gratitude to him.
Although they squabbled over how
the stones from area 31 were to be joined, they soon found that if Charlot
shared his knowledge of costume variation on the sculptured columns with
Ann Morris's knowledge of costume variation on the emerging mural, they
could learn something about ancient Maya society; together they were able
to identify common features which corresponded to various occupations and
social classes. Even this endeavor could be frustrating and lead to new
tensions. Ann Morris recounts (1931:185) how she once sweetly inquired of
her harassed co-worker, "'Jean, what would you say if I were to show you a
figure with a death god's head, a warrior's quilted defensive sleeve, a
jaguar's clawlike hand, a priest's long dress, and a god impersonator's
sandals?' Jean threw up his hands, stared at me with glassy eyes, and then
with the single-minded purposefulness of those going quite mad, put on his
hat and left the building."
In addition to copying and
studying the bas-reliefs from the Temple of the Warriors and helping put
back together again the mural from area 31, Charlot was involved in two
additional major projects at Chichén Itzá: tracing the murals in the
Temple of the Jaguar, and copying the murals in the Temple of the Chacmool
buried beneath the Temple of the Warriors.
In 1926 Charlot and Ann Morris
began the formidable task of tracing from the original the murals in the
upper Temple of the Jaguar, those that had so impressed Diego Rivera in
1921. These murals, overlooking the great ballcourt, seem to have had a
more profound effect on both the thought and work of Jean Charlot than any
of the bas-reliefs, sculptured columns, and murals from the Temple of the
Warriors group. He wrote of them in his article "A Twelfth-Century Mayan
Mural" which first appeared in the Magazine of Art (November 1938),
was reprinted in Art From the Mayans to Disney (Charlot
1939:26-41), and was included in Charlot's collected essays
(1972:47-57).
The only puzzling fact is that
neither Charlot nor Morris mention the superb copies made by Adele Breton
less than a generation before. Although unpublished they were certainly
known, and copies existed at Harvard's Peabody Museum (Miller
1978:121-154; Coggins and Shane III 1984:157-165). One can only speculate
that as an artist-turned-archaeologist, Charlot would recognize that the
act of copying puts one in touch with the data in a way that viewing the
originals or exact copies can never do.
The sensitive analysis made
possible by exact tracing is nowhere more evident than in Charlot's
article referred to above. He uncovers the artists' techniques, from the
original outlines to the brush that was used. He recognizes the formal
properties of circles and straight lines represented by circular shields
and linear lances. He considers perspective and concludes that the artist
violated Western ideals because he "... fit his mural to the problems of
architecture and point of view." He measures proportions, and is able to
compare the elongated and refined figures with the short and "primitive"
figures he has copied at the Temple of the Warriors. He speculates that
these stylistic differences marked a chronological sequence, a speculation
now supported by the re-dating of his twelfth-century murals to the ninth
century. His appreciation of proportion and composition and how these
affected his own work is discussed in the conclusion.
Charlot was, of course, more than
a copyist. He was always an artist first. He also used his time at Chichén
Itzá to produce sketches for himself. He refers to these sketches as
neither facsimile copies nor free interpretations. In 1935 he exhibited
them in New York for the Cane School of Art (Morse 1976:149
(#250]).
During the next season at Chichén
Itzá, beginning in January 1927, a most exciting discovery was made at the
Temple of the Warriors. It had been suspected that an earlier temple had
been covered up by the one they were excavating. This proved to be true,
and in one of the most remarkable excavation feats in Mexican archaeology,
Morris and his crew were able to excavate and restore the buried temple
without destroying the one which covered it. The preservation of the
paintings in this "Temple of the Chacmool" was better than any previously
known. Ann Morris (1931:246) describes how " Long before the work... was
completed, Jean and I moved in with our painting materials." The work
turned out to be more than even the most dedicated pair of copyists could
handle, and Charlot sent for Lowell Hauser, a painter he had known in
Mexico.
Hauser and Charlot shared a hut
and continued to work together into the 1928 season. They even
"entertained" other artists who visited the digs. Orozco (1974:42, n. 26)
introduced them to the English artist Leon Underwood, for whom they slung
a hammock (Morse 1976:49 [#77 "Hammock"]). Poor Underwood spent the night
dreaming that a giant jaguar with luminous eyes was watching him from the
bush.
All was not work at Chichén Itzá.
Trips were made to other ruins (Charlot 1972:64-65, "Sketch of Native
Guide on Expedition to Coba-Macanxoc, 1926"), and amateur theatricals were
performed. In 1927 Charlot cut a stencil (Morse 1976:43 [#70]) of a Mayan
head as a small poster to advertise "The Rise and Fall of the Mayan
Empire." The performance took place at night in the great ballcourt with
the archaeologists as actors with masks. Charlot recalls that the Maya
from many villages came and enjoyed it!
Recreational activities also
included a swim in the sacred cenote of sacrifice. Ann Morris
(1931:187-211 [ch. XIV]) vividly describes this adventure and identifies
Charlot as one of the protagonists. She pictures Charlot as the former
boxing champion of his regiment, and declares that he "had claim to a
strength of arms and shoulders belied by his present
profession."
Publications
Charlot's field work concluded in
1928, and he began preparations for publication. In September of 1928,
Charlot and his mother left Mexico for New York. Their close friend José
Clemente Orozco met them, and they found a small apartment. Their brief
stay ended tragically, for in January of the harsh winter of 1929, Señora
Charlot died of pneumonia. Earl and Ann Morris stepped in and took care of
him after his mother's death, and took him to Washington to ready the
field report for the Carnegie Institution (Orozco 1972:22).
The resulting 1931 publication,
The Temple of the Warriors at Chichén Itzá, Yucatan, is a classic
in its field. It consists of two volumes, one of text and one of plates.
Jean Charlot is listed as a co-author along with Earl and Ann Morris. Earl
Morris, recognizing their partnership wrote
Two great divisions of that
which the following pages record lay entirely beyond the province of the
present writer, namely Bas-Reliefs and Mural Paintings. These were
intrusted to Jean Charlot and to Ann Axtell Morris, respectively. The
devotion, skill and acumen which they lavished upon their separate,
though related studies, both in the field and at the desk may be judged
from those sections of the present volume which flowed from their pens
and from the color plates which are the product of their brushes (E.
Morris, Charlot and A. Morris 1931:7).
Referring to Charlot's work in
particular, Earl Morris goes on to state (1931:8), "In his section M.
Charlot has subjected to critical analysis the great number of bas-reliefs
which it fell to his pen and brush to reproduce. His findings contain a
wealth of information for those concerned with the indigenous art of the
New World."
Charlot's section of the report,
"Bas-Reliefs from the Temple of the Warriors Cluster," totals over 100
pages of text and over 100 plates. Charlot adds that
... the copyist's work was not
concluded in the field. Given the unusual and most delicate relation of
color to line on the originals, in which the painted version does not
always coincide with the sculptured, he thought it advisable to work on
the lithographic color version, himself fixing the color outline on the
141 plates necessary for these reproductions. The result is as accurate
as could be procured (E. Morris, Charlot and A. Morris
1931:232).
It is interesting to note that in
1971 Charlot (Morse 1976:47) felt that this Carnegie Institution
publication was perhaps the last to be illustrated mainly with drawings.
He had earlier remarked (Charlot 1972 [1938]:49) that "... a patient study
through careful tracing does more justice to the work than does direct
photography."
Charlot's expertise as a
painter-turned-archaeologist was still being called upon fifteen years
later with the publication of Sylvanus G. Morley's magisterial work The
Ancient Maya. Charlot prepared a series of line drawings illustrating
the cutting of stones and their use as building blocks; these prints are
still being featured in the fourth edition (Morley, Brainerd and Sharer
1983). In 1947 Charlot (1972:58-63) reviewed Morley's work for the
Magazine of Art (July 1947) and once again revealed his sensitivity
to the artifact as more than scientific data. In his essay he argues that
Morley's book came within the scope of art review because, "... the maze
of evidence through which the researcher wades before attributing a date
to a stela, interpreting a codex, or rebuilding a ruined temple, is mostly
a conglomerate of art objects."
Conclusion
Charlot is unique in that he is
the only well known artist of his era in Mexico who worked directly as a
member of scientifically conducted archaeological expeditions. As a result
of his experiences he could speak and write with an authority and
understanding of art, archaeology and ethnology beyond that of any of his
peers. His experiences taught him to critically examine the
archaeologists' impact on pre-Columbian art history. As he remarked in his
essay "Mayan Art" (Charlot 1972 [1935]:39), "The study of Mayan art and
the appreciation of its monuments have been left wholly to the taste of
the scientists, and those precise gentlemen... too often overlook its
beauty to indulge in technical discussions which make the layman yawn."
Later, in the same essay, he refers to "the archaeologist, innocent of
aesthetic training" looming as a dictator, and imposing his taste for the
later "rococo" manifestations of Maya art at the expense of the classic
manifestations of Mayan art "less luxurious but wealthier in human
values," and guided by a "sober taste." Charlot counts the fresco
paintings of Chichén Itzá with this classic expression which "palpitates a
spirituality."
Charlot's aesthetic appreciation
of the murals was in part inspired by the elongated proportions of the
figures which at first led him to question "How such languid-looking
androgynes were able to build and keep in working order the complex
machinery of their society..." However, he concludes that "this is better
understood by those who have seen Mayan masons lazily lift and carry on
their heads weights under which one of our strong men would stagger"
(Charlot 1963:3).
Charlot's admiration for the grace
and skill of Maya builders past and present is expressed in a series of
well-known prints and paintings. He notes in the first "Builders" print to
be catalogued by Morse (1976:45 [73], "Small Builders") that "This shows
our Mayan workers lifting carved stones. There's an obvious parallel to
the original pyramid builders." "Small Builders" becomes "Great Builders"
I and II (46-47 [#74-75]). Two years later, in 1929, both "Small" and
"Great" are repeated (52 [#81]; 54-57 [#83]), and in 1930 an oil painting
was produced (Claudel 1935:43). Reworking of this theme continued (#91,
93, 133, 148) until in 1933 he created "Three Pyramid Builders" (122
[#206]). Charlot's comments in 1971 on "Three Pyramid Builders" (Morse
1976:122) reveal the enduring impressions he retained of events which
occurred over forty years before: "Besides archaeology, we had live
workers for models, who were of pure Mayan stock. They carried stones with
the same gestures we saw in the bas reliefs. In some of the lithographs I
made a point of having a bas relief look like a portrait of the live
worker."
Although the elongated Maya figure
may have become exhausted as an aesthetic theme, the Maya profile
continued to haunt Charlot. In his comments on another print from 1933
"Cargador at Rest" (Morse 1976:123 [#207]), he admits it is a "mixture of
things" Aztec and Maya because he was "still mixed up with the Mayans as
far as the profile goes." As late as 1937 he would still etch a "Mayan
Head" (209 [#392]).
Charlot as an artist constantly
played back and forth between archaeology and ethnology. Not only was he
acutely aware of continuities in form between builders ancient and modern,
but he also observed the same continuities in daily life. In 1946 he wrote
(Charlot 1972 [1946]: 183), "The scenes sculptured and frescoed on ancient
monuments are enacted daily in Indian huts and Indian fields. In Chichén
Itzá, in the Court of the Thousand Columns, a stuccoed name glyph shows a
hand kneading dough over a stone metate. In nearby huts... living hands
perform the same task daily."
As an artist, Charlot felt that
science alone could not penetrate the secrets held by the ancient Maya. In
his review of the Yucatán prints by another outstanding artist, Alfredo
Zalce, Charlot (1972 [1946]):183) writes, "Try as they may, neither
archaeologist nor ethnologist has pinned down by statistics of factual
minutiae the spiritual complexities of the Maya..."
Charlot's observations of modern
Maya life were also captured by pen and brush. Perhaps most memorable was
his encounter with Mayan men returning from a night of hunting. Although
mauled they triumphantly carried their jaguar prey (Orozco 1974:19-20).
This became the subject for his 1929 "Leopard Hunter" (Morse 1976:52
[#80]; 102 [#136]). He first attempted a painting of this "tiger hunter"
scene, but subsequently destroyed it; however he succeeded with the
lithograph (Orozco 1974:59, n. 45).
Other scenes immortalized by
Charlot include his "Worker Drinking" (Morse 1976:58 [84]) which he
describes as from Chichén Itzá - "another print on a Yucatán theme." And
beyond the Yucatán, in a scene from the Mexican Highlands "Mother Giving
Breast" or "Temascal" [sweat bath], he sums up his inspirations as
being, "...very much tied up, like all the things I do, with Indian life,
ancient traditions" (Morse 1976:146 [#245]).
All his life Jean Charlot was
caught in the creative tension between what he referred to as the
"Renaissance norm" and new ways of seeing and appreciating the world. The
Chichén Itzá experience was an essential step in his search for a balance
between the aesthetic of the pre-Columbian world and that of Europe. His
own difficulty in escaping the "Renaissance norm" is revealed in his essay
"Who Discovered America?" (Charlot 1972 [1953]:27-38). Charlot was working
with Morley in the inner chamber on top of the Temple of Warriors when the
slab of the main altar was discovered. This slab was supported by
seventeen stone atlantean figures. "Out of these seventeen pieces, all
related in craft and style, we at once picked one as a masterpiece,
neglecting the other sixteen. We called the elect the 'Mona Lisa of
Chichen-Itza'; it was photographed and published, and became mildly
famous. Years after, reflecting on the choice, I realized that our 'Mona
Lisa' was the only one of these statuettes whose lips curled upwards!"
(Charlot 1972:35).
REFERENCES CITED
- Charlot, Jean
|
1939 |
Art from the Mayans to
Disney. London, Sheed and Ward. |
|
1963 |
The Mexican Mural
Renaissance, 1920-1925. New Haven, CT, Yale University
Press. |
|
1972 |
An Artist on Art. Collected
Essays of Jean Charlot. Volume II Mexican Art. Honolulu,
University Press of
Hawaii. | Claudel, Paul
|
1935 |
Jean Charlot.
Paris. | Coggins, Clemency
C. and Orrin C. Shane III (eds.)
|
1984 |
Cenote of Sacrifice: Maya
Treasures from the Sacred Well at Chichén Itzá. Austin,
TX, University of Texas
Press. | Miller, Arthur G.
|
1978 |
"Capitanes del Itzá: Evidencia
mural inédita de Chichén Itzá." Estudios Cultura Maya
II: 121-154. | Morley,
Sylvanus G.
|
1946 |
The Ancient Maya.
Stanford, CA, Stanford University
Press. | Morley, S. G.,
George W. Brainerd and Robert J. Santley
|
1983 |
The Ancient Maya.
Stanford, CA, Stanford University
Press. | Morris, Ann Axtell
|
1931 |
Digging In Yucatan.
Garden City, NY, Doubleday,
Doran. | Morris, Earl H.,
Jean Charlot and Ann Axtell Morris
|
1931 |
The Temple of the Warriors
at Chichén Itzá, Yucatan. Carnegie Institution of
Washington Publication No. 406, Vol I and Vol. II
Plates. | Morse, Peter
|
1976 |
Jean Charlot's Prints: A
Catalogue Raisonné. Honolulu, The University Press of
Hawaii and the Jean Charlot
Foundation. | Orozco, José
Clemente
|
1962 |
José Clemente Orozco: An
Autobiography (translated by Robert C. Stephenson).
Austin, TX, University of Texas Press. |
|
1974 |
The Artist in New York:
Letters to Jean Charlot and Unpublished Writings,
1925-1929 (letters and unpublished writings translated
by Ruth L. C. Simms). Austin, TX, University of Texas
Press. |
Donald McVicker
recently retired as Professor of Anthropology/International Studies,
North Central College, Naperville, IL. He received his Ph.D. in
Anthroplogy from the University of Chicago. He has worked extensively in
Mexico and has specialized in the archaeology and art history,
particularly on the analysis of pre-Columbian murals. Professor McVicker
is also known for his research on the history of anthropology. The study
of Jean Charlot's work for the Carnegie Institution's excavations at
Chichén Itzá has provided him with the opportunity to combine his two
primary professional interests.
1 This article
first appeared in Spanish as "El pintor convertido en arqueólogo: Jean
Charlot en Chichén Itzá" In Milena Koprivitza and Blanca Garduño Pulido,
ed., México in la obra de Jean Charlot (pp. 57-72). Consejo
Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes, México,
1994.
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All images and texts by Jean Charlot copyright the Jean Charlot Estate
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