“The Three Great Ones” Mexican Muralistas and Wine in Baja.

Maya civilization, Mexico, 9th century A.D. Reconstruction of Bonampak frescoes. Room 1 Procession of Musicians. Hover over image to magnify.

When Diego Rivera first saw these murals, he wept. The archeological discovery of Bonampak’s murals (of course, the local Lacondones always knew of them) was a wonderful find for Mexican and Mesoamerican history. The Temple of the Murals, done c. 790 A.D. for King Chan Muan to celebrate a military victory and show off his lineage of sons (all three shown dancing) was the missing link which proved what 20th century muralists, Rivera and Orozco, had been claiming. Mural painting was a native Mexican tradition of which they, the modern muralistas, were just the continuation.

The 20th century in Mexico began with revolution. One hundred years exactly after Father Hidalgo gave the Grito de Dolores to rally people to rebel against Spanish rule, Mexico once again reshaped itself. After ten years of upheaval, General Alvaro Obregón restored order, became president, and began to reunite the country. Part of his effort to do this involved creating a new identity for the Mexican people, one where their long history, culture, and values were shown and respected. To do this he called upon the great painters (in fact, Rivera was called to come back from Europe) to paint great murals to communicate to the populace the achievements of the revolution and call upon them to contemplate those achievements as well. These painters, known now as “Los tres grandes” (The Three Great Ones), were Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siquieros. These artists created a movement that not only shaped art in Mexico but also had a powerful influence in the U.S.

The Revolution, a detail, David Alfaro Siquieros, painted in Chapultepec Castle, Mexico City. Hover over image to magnify.

David Alfaro Siquieros (1896-1974), though raised by his conservative grandparents, was someone who supported the ordinary working man, even when it caused him to be imprisoned for severe criticism of the Mexican government (1960-64). Though he was originally a friend of Diego Rivera, he broke off with the other artist, accusing him of being a sell-out, since Rivera became very famous painting murals in the U.S. for wealthy industrialists.

Siquieros was someone known to be an ideological absolutist, though at one point he was kicked out of the Communist Party. However, in later years (1967) he would win the Lenin-Stalin Peace Prize. His focus in painting was the use of the whole body when painting, as though painting were a sacred dance. This influenced Jackson Pollack, who became famous for his abstract expressionist drip paintings, which he worked upon while very physically moving about the painting.

David Alfaro Siquieros’ mural at UNAM, the National Autonomous University of Mexico. Hover over image to magnify.

In the piece above, one sees the grandness and force of Siquieros’ work. In this piece called La universidad al pueblo; el pueblo a la universidad (The University to the people; The People to the University), the forceful expression of those straight arms pointing forward with book and pens in hand gives one a good sense about the fierce determination of the artist to communicate the value of education to all who see this work.

Prometheus by josé Clemente Orozco, 1930 Pomona College, California. Hover over image to magnify.

José Clemente Orozco (1883-1949) came from a family that lived on the edge of poverty before the Mexican Revolution. As a teen, he was inspired by seeing a political cartoonist at work and became interesting in how art could communicate big ideas. He became a painter of caricatures, though he also painted pictures showing the misery of the life around him. It was a hard-scrabble life with little attention paid to his talent. Unfortunately, life was made even harder when in 1904 to celebrate Mexican Independence Day, a fireworks mixture exploded damaging his left hand. The lack of immedidate medical attention left amputation as the only solution to save his life from the effects of gangrene.

For a short while in the early 1920s, he painted murals as part of the literacy campaign to help the Mexican people understand the effects of the revolution they had been through. However, he ultimately decided to go to the U.S. where he painted murals in Pomona College and the 24 panel piece called The Epic of American Civilization for Dartmouth College. Through his efforts in the U.S., he was able to return to Mexico in 1934 as a well-established artist.

Once in Mexico again, he created The People and Its Leaders for the Government Palace in Guadalajara, in his native state of Jalisco. His masterpiece would have to be the frescoes inside Guadalajara’s Hospicio Cabañas, which focus on the history of Mexico from pre-Columbian times through the Revolution.

That work is known as “The Sistene Chapel of the Americas” and the Hospicio is itself a UNESCO World Heritage Site. He was a driving force in reviving fresco painting, claiming as did Diego Rivera that mural painting was a native art form in Mexican culture.

Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Almeda Park by Diego Rivera in the Museo Mural in Mexico City diegorivera.org Hover over image to magnify.

The name Diego Rivera (1886-1957) is as momumental as the man was in physical size. Over six feet tall and weighing several hundreds of pounds, he was a towering figure, who saw in the mural painting of the Italian Renaissance, a period known for its gigantic frescoes, a tool that he could use to express his ideas on Mexican history in a format that he also felt was something native to Mexican culture. Having studied in Europe where he got to know many of the most famous painters of the 20th century, he returned to Mexico at the behest of the Mexican government to paint murals that helped redefine Mexican identity.

Rivera went to the U.S. in the 1930s where he had great success painting gigantic, epic paintings. Since the 1930s was a period in the U.S. when there were many public works sponsored by the government, Rivera’s work influenced many American painters. His own works appear in a number of cities, including inside the San Francisco Art Institute in the Diego Rivera Gallery. His commercial success prompted a falling-out with his friend and fellow muralista Siquieros, who felt Rivera had put his art in service to the bourgeoisie.

Photo credit ordovasart.com

Detail of Dream of a Sunday Afternoonin the Almeda Park by Diego Rivera, 1947. artsandculture.google.com click link to see expanded picture.

This painting has a fascinating history not just because it gives Rivera’s idea on the panorama of Mexican history, but because the physical painting itself has had an interesting journey. I was fortunate enough in the 1970s to see this painting in its original location, the Hotel del Prado, which is near the Alameda Park in Mexico City. It is 52 feet long, as you can see at diegorivera.org, and it is overwhelming, as befits such an intense combination of characters representing a turbulent history. And yes, it was in a hotel. However, not unlike Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper, which graced a dining hall in a monastery, when both buildings were destroyed (WWII bombs for the monastery and the 1985 earthquake for the hotel), the last things standing were the two paintings. The Universe obviously appreciates art. The mural is now in the Museo Mural, which is next to the Alameda, the park where Rivera’s panorama of characters representing Mexico and its culture haunt the spirit of the place.

Photo of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera Photo Credit biography.com

While we normally think of movie stars as having legendary, tempetuous love lives, these two artists stand toe-to-toe with Taylor and Burton when it comes to drama, private and public. Their relationship, in which they finally wound up living in two separate houses that were joined (in Puerto Vallarta, Taylor and Burton had two houses joined by a bridge), will be the subject of the next post on Of Art and Wine that will look at how they each handled a very special painting subject. For now, it can be said that along with his fellow muralistas, Rivera revived the painting of frescoes in modern architecture. Rivera in particular is also famous for using modern figures and imagery to express Mexican history and cultural identity, and perhaps he was right when he claimed that mural painting is an art native to Mexico.

A Copy of the Murals of the royals of Bonampak from the Temple of the Murals by artist Elelicht commons.wikimedia.org

So we return to those murals in Bonampak. King Chan Muan’s celebration of his lineage on the finely painted walls of The Temple of Murals did not secure its continued existence. By 820 A.D., just 30 years after this great show of power and ostentation, Bonampak, along with the rest of the Classical Maya sites were abandoned to the forest. However, his temple murals with walls that often sparkle with the subtle blue of azurite from far-off Arizona passed the torch from Mexico’s distant past to its modern manifestation of mural painting.

Images are either in public domain or used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of critique, review, and discussion.

Sources for this article:

“José Clemente Orozco,” biography.com

“Jose Clemente Orozco,” artnet.com

“Diego Rivera, his Life and Art,” diegorivera.org

“Diego Rivera,” biography.com

“David Alfaro Siquieros” theartstory.org

“David Alfaro Siquieros,” famouspainters.net

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine in Baja California

Glass of wine in vineyard Valle de Guadalupe unsplash.com

It was Juan de Grijalva, one of Hernán Cortez’s men, who first lifted a glass of wine with some of Montezuma’s emissaries, and thus Mexico’s on again, off again relationship with wine began. If you have read the Of Art and Wine piece “Bonampak’s Temple of the Murals and Mayan Drinks” ofartandwine, then you know that the Maya had their own wonderful drinks made of fragrant hibiscus and other tropical ingredients. In fact, grapes did grow in pre-Columbian Mexico, but they seem to have been strongly acidic, though the juice was combined with honey and fruits to create something tolerable to the taste.

In this 18th century version of a painting done in the 1500s, one sees the stern stuff that this infamous conquistador was made of. As wine was a part of Spanish culture, it traveled on the ships that came to the New World. Along with the conquistadores came the different Catholic religious orders, among them the Franciscans and Dominicans, who of course used wine for sacramental purposes, but also to make money.

At first the cultivation of grapes and making of wine was something encouraged by King Charles I, as the new Spanish arrivees found it necessary and economical to grow their own grapes and make wine. Cortez, himself, commanded that thousands of acres of vineyards be created. The planting of the vineyards served to turn the dry desert landscape into useable land. There was even the creation of a variety of grape called, liked the Spanish who were born in the New World rather than in Spain, Creole (criollo). However, that was not to last, as by the time of King Charles II, Spain feared that the production of the New World vineyards would undercut the prices of the wines made in Spain. Cultivation of the grape was forbidden, except for strictly religious ceremonial needs.

Mexico’s environment of which much is below the 30th degree parallel is not well suited to the growing of grapes. However, around 1843, Dominican monks found this wonderful place in the Baja Peninsula, which like the lands of Alta California (the California in the U.S.), had a climate that favored wine grapes. Its altitude, the evening fog and cool breezes from the Pacific, and the warm sunny days are as effective in La Baja as they are in La Alta when it comes to growing grapes.

Vineyards in Baja California barrons.com

The endeavor started well, but the grape vines were attacked by phylloxera, a fungus that nearly wiped out vineyards in Europe in the late 1800s. This was followed by the Mexican Revolution, which was 10 years of upheaval and instability. The industry tried to struggle back into existence in the 1920s, but the lack of wine-making knowledge and proper equipment created wines that were yellow, acidic, and not particularly appealing. It was not until the 1970s when Pedro Domecq, a maker of some of the very finest brandy, revived high-end wine from the Valle de Guadalupe.

These days, along with its booming brandy production (Mexico’s Emperador is the world’s largest company producing brandy), the country produces wines of better and better quality. Mostly blends of various grapes from Europe, these wines are beginning to make their mark in the world of wine. Gardiner Navarro in his article, “Mexican Wine is Getting More Popular – And a Lot Better” (barrons.com) states, “In Mexico’s west coast, Valle de Guadalupe (or Valle, as locals call it) has recently emerged as one of the most exciting up-and-coming wine destinations.” Its close proximity to San Diego, only a 2-hour trip, has caused a small wine tourist industry to spring up. There are day trips that leave the wonderful, colorful San Diego Train Station at 9:00 am and return the visitors there by 8:00 pm. the same day (sandiegowineytours.com). However, there are tours for those who want to spend a couple of days in this peaceful valley. Baja Wine Tours offers private and public tours of varying lengths, again from San Diego. Consult their website for some wonderfully enticing photos of the Valle de Guadalupe and its offerings, including glorious food.(bajawinerytours.com).

A Seafood Platter that goes great with wine.

In speaking about food and wines, Baja produces some very nice Chardonnay. It also produces Temperanillo, which goes so very well with the earthy flavor of tamales. This brings up the topic of food pairings of Mexican food and wines from any of the wine growing regions of the world. One might normally think of a cold beer or a frosty, salty margarita to go with Mexican food. However, enchiladas go very nicely with Riesling; carnitas with Pinot Noir; Pinot Gris with chicken tacos; sparkling wines with cerviche, and Syrah with mole. While Baja may not produce all of those wines – yet, it certainly is coming up in the world of wine. Keep your eye on the Mexican wine industry.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Frida and Diego: Art, Love, and Watermelons, plus Wines for Valentine’s.

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera uwm.edu

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera were rock stars before Rock. Kahlo, first seen as just “the wife of Rivera” turned out to be one of the most notable female artists in history. Rivera, famous for his grand murals and their influence on painting among artists in the U.S., was the great love and bain of Kahlo’s existence. Star-crossed, perhaps, their final communication to one another was in the form of paintings of watermelons. And for the rest of us lovers, some suggestions for wine to serve or give on Valentine’s.

The Chill Cool of Canadian Painting, and Wine Bars in Toronto.

I remember when I first returned for a long stay (3 months) in Canada after living for eight years in Provence, where yes the chilly Mistral blows, and there is sometimes even snow. However, in Toronto it was May, the merry month, so I went down to Kew Beach on Lake Ontario. A cap on my head, several layers of sweaters, jeans, socks and closed-in shoes, I sat on a bench in the sun. Supposedly, it was 70 degrees. As I shivered, I noticed the Canadians walking down the boardwalk in shorts, T-shirts, sleeveless garments, bare arms taking in the sun. There was even a lady on the beach in a bikini! Just when I thought there must indeed be something wrong with me, I noticed that none of the trees had leaves yet. The buds of the leaves were tightly wrapped shut, still fearful to open up. I sent a photo back to friends in France, saying, “The limbs of the trees and the limbs of the people are all bare. Qu’est que ça veux dire?” To me, it indicated that Canadians have a special relationship with the cold. I began to observe how that plays itself out in their painting.

Ayesha by Valerie Palmer, 201 4. Loch Gallery

Not many artists do landscape painting and figurative painting, but Valerie Palmer excels at combining both. The Toronto-born artist got her B.F.A. degree in Winnipeg, then moved to the far northern shore of Lake Superior, where she lives and paints. Tom Smart in his essay on her work,”Valerie Palmer: Portraits, Memories and Landscapes,” speaks of the passive poses and disengaged contemplation of her figures as part of what he calls here “mood poems.” In fact he says, “Palmer is a visual poet whose form is the painted emblem.”

What I see is the dissonance caused by this calm figure in a summer dress, standing before this partially frozen landscape. It fits into what artist and author John Seed calls “distupted realism,” in which elements not normally thought of as being together can be together, because in the universe everything is connected. Here these two strongly different elements are collaged by the movement of color from the icey blue of the lake, to the paler green waters near the shore, to the sandy tan of the beach, the deep green of the trees, and the soft reds of the dress – cold to warm.

Most importantly for me, the fine drawing of the figure is very crisp not unlike the way Botticelli did his figures, where the line is very important, moreso than the shading. The ice behind the figure is very precisely drawn, showing the sharp broken edges, edges that can cut. The distracted gaze of the young woman and the frigid background, both so precisely rendered, make one feel the cold emanating from the painting, while at the same time giving us a flush of warmth in the figure of Ayesha.

Journey by Valerie Palmer, 2004 Loch Gallery

Here in another of Palmer’s paintings, we find the same dislocation of elements. These young people who wait for the train (which oddly looks more like a freight train than a passenger one) are dressed in indoor clothes. The young woman, although surrounded by snow, sits on a bench without any trace of snow on it. Her pose is upright and rigid, as is that of the young man who stands before the viewer with his arms folded. The two characters share the same physical space but do not seem to be connected, as both stare into the middle distance of their own private worlds. They chill. We viewers do too, as the cold leaves the confines of the painting to invade the atmosphere around us. This is what I mean by the chill cool of Canadian painting. Yes, it leaves us physically feeling the cool, but its disruption of our normal sense of reality also leaves us with an intellectually “cool” painting, very modern and very with it.

Still Life with Porcelain, Klaas Hart, 2006 Loch Gallery.

Klaas Hart is another Toronto native, who studied at the Ontario College of Art and Design (OCAD), went on to an apprenticeship with renowned artist Hank Helmantel in the Netherlands, where he refined his painting technique. In looking at the painting above, one sees very precisely rendered items done in cool blues, silvery gray, and off-white with a simple bluish-gray backpanel and a putty-colored foreground surface. The artist picks up the putty color in the trim around the envelops, in the interior coloring of the sea shell and on the stand for the blue dish. Even the glass funnel changes the color of the supporting surface to a grayish-blue.

The feeling of the painting is very modern and a bit hard-edged, but at the same time is softened by the nostalgia represented by the old-fashioned envelops, the decorative sea shell, and the plain, rather classic design of the dishes. This odd collection of items, hard to see all together as one theme, is called simply Still Life with Porcelain. Yet, while the artist may have just gathered a random selection of items, most of which were porcelain, this variety of items hint at all sorts of things other than porcelain. Perhaps they represent something more metaphysical, like all time and no time. That in itself would relate to concepts in modern physics, in which travel at the speed of light (still impossible for us) would create the View from C (C as in C²) where infinite instances of time exist all occuring at once (The Fabric of Reality, David Deutsch). That makes this a cool painting in terms of its colors and also in terms of its cool ideas.

If we just stick to the use of the color palette, we can see how it compares with some famous still life paintings. The objects in Hart’s Garlic Painting are all in whitish gray, or silver against a deep blue-gray background. The support they sit on is once again a combination of a light putty and an indistinct tone of brown. When compared to the older paintings of masters like Chardin or Claesz, the precision in rendering is there, but it is Hart’s work which exists in a sharp, cool clarity rather than the warmer more natural colors in the other two paintings.

Fire Down On The Labrador by David Blackwood, 1980 etching and aquatint on paper. Art Gallery of Ontario ago.ca

Let’s not think that Canadian artists have no sense of humor, ironic though it may be at times. Take a look at the painting above. The icebergs are as perfect as nature can make them. They really are ice sculptures that tower above the water, while skillfully hiding 10 times that height underneath the waves. The night is black, and the moon, so tiny and far away, is full but sheds little light. The light comes from the burning ship. The masts indicate that it is most probably a whaler. We see the lifeboat with the crew adrift in the blackness of the artic waters. The scene is a desparate one.

Blackwood then takes us below those waves to see that what was terrible for the whalers was a stroke of good fortune for the whale, whose baleine plate shows as a type of wicked smile. It’s no wonder his book of prints is called Black Ice. As a Newfoundlander, Blackwood would know that the most treacherous ice is the black kind that blends with the color of the road or sidewalk, so you don’t know it is there until you go skidding in all directions. His work often shows the slippery sudden surprises in life.

Blackwood is a storyteller at heart, using the medium of printmaking to tell the seafaring stories of his native Newfoundland. His stories are of the people but also of the animals. Often, as in the print above, when the animals and the people collide, the people don’t always win. Fire Down on the Labrador is a cold painting for sure (will you ever forget the sharp crystalline blue-violet of those craggy icebergs?), but in his use of irony, the artist is not cold hearted.

It would not be truly Canadian to leave out Patrick Amiot’s ceramic sculpture, Hip Check. Amiot is one of Canada’s most famous sculptors. He takes inspiration from daily life and all things common to it: cars, farmers, fishermen, street scenes, old trucks, interiors, and hockey, of course. The rough surface of the base of the piece looks very much like ice that has been skated on. The joyful grimace on the face of the player who has managed to check an opponent almost makes you hear the fans roar. Fun and iconic, it’s a Canadian thing and once again, way cool.

Loch Gallery

I admit to being a proud graduate of Canada’s leading, and one of the world’s finest institutions of higher learning, the University of Toronto. I remember those Canadian winters of my youth and the chill in some of those May days of my more recent visits. I find that Canadian painters go for precision and perfection in their work that often allows a cool breeze of crystalline clarity to float off their paintings and into the minds of the viewer. Vive Canada!

The art presented in this article is used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for the purposes of critique, review and discussion. For more on the artists, visit these websites: Valerie Palmer Klass Hart and David Blackwood.

Sources include:

The Best of Canadian Contemporaries, catalog Loch Gallery

Black Ice: David Blackwood’s Prints of Newfoundland. ago.ca

“David Blackwood 81 Artworks” artsy.net

“Portraits, Memories and Landscapes,” an essay by Tom Smart printed in the show catalog Valerie Palmer Paintings, Loch Gallery, Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine Bars in Toronto!

Sommelier pours pinot gris wine in glasses for degustation

First, what are wine bars? Basically they are a type of “pub” that focuses on wine rather than spirits or beer. Wine bars are the perfect set-up for both enjoying a selection of wines but also learning about them. One of the joys of wine tasting is a real degustation, that French word that prepares you to taste something special. Notice here the classic long-stemmed wine glass that allows you to hold the glass by the stem, so as not to have your hand warming the wine. The amount in the glass is just a touch across the bottom of the glass. Remember, you are tasting, not having a glass with a full meal. The long mellow dark brown of the bar itself is a classic reminder of winecellars and barrels of flavorful wines fermenting and aging on their way to the moment when we have the pleasure of tasting them. Food that compliments the wine is available, but the focus is always on the wine, served, of course, in the appropriate glass. To get a good understanding of all that makes a good wine bar, “Qualities of a Great Wine Bar” is the article to ground oneself with (pinstackbowl.com). Since the focus of this blog post is Canada, and my old hometown (if only temporarily), Toronto, let’s see a few of what the city has to offer.

A series of Flights of Wine. A Flight allows you to taste three different wines.

Toronto is a city of neighborhoods and areas that have certain specialties. The Financial District’s specialty is keeping Toronto as the economic engine of Canada, and being that, one would expect that any wine bar there would be exclusive and very expensive. Au contraire mes chers amis. Reds Wine Tavern, located in First Canadian Place (still Toronto’s tallest building), does cater to the high-powered suits (the TV show was filmed down the street at Adelaide Place). The prices are still manageable, especially around 4:00 o’clock when select bottles are available for favorable prices. There are butcher boards of charcuterie and cheese or you can go for a full meal, with nothing topping $40. The wine cellar has 350 bottles, and there is a sommelier at your service. (Reds Wine Tavern) Please note, that Toronto has on-and-off closures of restaurants for indoor dining because of COVID restrictions.

If you want some consistency as you tour the city, then Cibo Wine Bar is for you. With three locations (King St. West, Yonge Street in Midtown, and Yorkville) you can take advantage of a variety of decor, from high tech stainless, to exposed brick walls and butcher block wooden tables. Each specializes in Italian foods to go with the wines. Trendy Yorkville has many outdoor patios that allow for good people-watching, and Cibo’s fits right in with its own patio, a complement to its industrial style interior. Most important is the collection of 2500 bottles of wine. Cibo Wine Bar

As was mentioned before, Toronto is a city of neighborhoods, and one of the ones that has been trending is Leslieville. To the east of the downtown core, just beyond Riverdale, Leslieville is a locality of small shops, galleries, and restaurants that leave the “suited” atmosphere of downtown behind, in favor of a casual, relaxed, “being at home” feeling of a lovely neighborhood. Chez Nous is listed as being near Leslieville, though from the map it looks to me like Riverdale. However, as the two neighborhoods lie cheek-by-jowl, the main thing is that it is a cozy wine bar that specializes in Canadian wines. Yes, there is a wine industry in Canada. The snacks are simple but the owner, Laura Carr, knows the wines well, as she has visited all of those Ontario wineries. To get a bit of the Chez Nous experience, look at this little video on youtube.com.

If you want a different sort of neighborhood, head west out along Queen Street West, where you can find La Flaca, a Spanish themed wine bar serving tapas lafalca.ca. Moving on toward the direction of High Park ones finds Clandestino Wine Bar. It is indeed a bit hidden inside another location, the Common People Shop. However, it is considered a hidden jewel Clandestino Wine Bar.

Bar Mercurio, near the University of Toronto at 270 Bloor Street West

Of course, I am partial to things close to my alma mater, and Bar Mercurio is a favorite of mine. Though it is ostensibly just a bar, the food is delicious, and there is a good selection of wine to go with. And if you believe as writer and local expert, Courtney Sunday, does “that the only meal without wine is breakfast,” you can cross the street and a few steps further down to 321 Bloor West to L’Espresso Bar Mercurio, which serves wonderful coffee and fabulous pastries in a classy Italian environment.

Just as there are “8 million stories in the Naked City,” there are many wine bars in Toronto. This post only gives a few of them. However, it is easy to see that whether you are downtown, go east along Queen St., go north along Yonge, or go west toward High Park, there will be a wine bar to suit you.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: “The Three Great Ones” Mexican Muralistas and Wines in Baja.

Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Central by Diego Rivera, 1946

From the Mayan murals of Bonampak to the great 20th century muralistas (Rivera, Siquieros, and Orozco), Mexico expresses itself well in this grand style, and it is not to be left out when it comes to wine production either.