You could say that artist Carlos Hernandez Chavez has taken a bit of the Mexican Muralist Movement of the 1900s to modern-day New England.

But his path to painting on walls and buildings here after growing up in Mexico was a winding one.

In the mid-1960s, Chavez devoted his education to the arts while still in Mexico. He studied at the Escuela Nacional de Artes Plásticas-UNAM at the Academia de San Carlos in Mexico and INBA’s Escuela de Pintura y Escultura at La Esmeralda. He also pursued a life in rock ‘n’ roll. It was the latter that took him to the Northeast U.S. decades ago, in hopes of joining a rock band that was auditioning on the West Coast. Instead, Chavez ended up staying in Connecticut, where he would marry his then girlfriend, Georgianne “Georgie” Nelson.

To pay the bills, he put down his bass guitar and paint brush, and settled into a career in social work and for the city of Hartford. He started out at a psychiatric hospital and moved on from there.
But he didn’t give up his passion for painting – or activism – and began creating murals around town. His first in the U.S. was a work he completed in the early 1970s, called the “Human Condition,” which is now at the San Juan Center social agency in Hartford. He would go on to create many more public works through the decades and, through a grant from the then Connecticut Commission on the Arts, become involved in artists’ rights and other social issues across the state.

Now, in his early 80s, Chavez has won recognition from his home country, when he received the 2024 Distinguished Mexicans Recognition award last month from the Consulate General of Mexico in Boston.
Sampan recently interviewed Chavez by email to find out more about him and his work. Following is an edited version of that exchange:

Sampan: Mexico, I think, has a long history of mural art as activism. First and most obviously what comes to mind is the great works of Diego Rivera. Was Mexico’s muralist movement an influence on your work?
Chavez: My artistic training in the academic tradition was intensive, receiving instruction from masters whose works are now found in many prestigious institutions in Mexico and abroad, among them Ignacio Asúnsolo, Luis Nishizawa, Manuel Herrera Cartalla, Fernando Castro Pacheco, Héctor Cruz, and others. Many of these artists were contemporaries of Los Tres Grandes, Diego Rivera, David Alfaro Siqueiros and José Clemente Orozco — the most influential muralists of the 20th century. During the construction of the new Museo Nacional de Antropología e Historia in 1964, I was recruited by Maestro Raúl Anguiano as an assistant muralist to Spanish artist Regina Raúll whose mural was installed and remains at the museum. There is no doubt that during my training, mural works in the Mexican tradition were a significant influence later on in my mural work.

Sampan: Could you describe a couple of your works that you’re most proud of and what they mean to you?
Chavez: My 1974 “The Human Condition Mural” was the defining work that would help establish my direction as an activist painter in the state. It addressed issues affecting the lives of the people I served as a social worker that remain very relevant to this day: poverty, racism, child and elderly neglect, alcohol and drug addiction, and the inherent power in people to overcome them. This mural underwent several relocations (in part because of) opposition from public agencies’ executives….(At which point the) mural was put in the trash, and later rescued by Doris Rojas, a good friend.

Another is “The Wall of Forgiveness.” The 1995 work was an ephemeral mural painted at Hartford’s Charter Oak Cultural Center with gang violence as its central theme. In the previous five years, Hartford had experienced a high number of homicides – nearly 200. My intention was to bring public awareness by offering alternative ways to reduce violence in bold, graphic terms. The mural displayed all the names of those killed, painted above the figure of a young man prostrated over the word ‘FORGIVENESS’. …. My belief is that if forgiveness is not given or accepted, the healing process can’t begin.

(I created) “River of Memories, River of Hope” in 2001 at the Catholic Charities, Refugee Resettlement Office, with the intention of bringing awareness and resources to world refugees being resettled in the Hartford Area on the scourge of HIV/AIDS. This mural had an unfortunate end, being painted over in 2008 by order of the agency’s then executive director under the pretense that “the images were not appropriate for the clients’ viewing.” A justification beyond ironic.

“Sugar Beet Workers” … painted in 2009 under a grant from the Roberts Foundation for the Arts … is my way of telling my personal immigrant story….

Sampan: It sometimes seems that art and architecture are less and less an imperative for many towns and cities in the U.S. How important do you feel public art’s role is in people’s well being?
Chavez: In my nearly 60 years here, my impression regarding public art in Connecticut, particularly socially conscious or controversial murals, is not as well received or understood here as in other parts of the country. One will hardly find those kinds of works, much less those that contain nudity in public places in the state. I think this is a direct result of the conservative, puritanical attitudes and narrow knowledge about mural art of those who control what the public can see or read.

Sampan: You’ve now lived a good part of your life in Connecticut. Looking back, how welcoming has it been as an immigrant from Mexico?
Chavez: I found that in general, the people around the places I’ve lived are good, generous and kind. Unfortunately, there will always be some who aren’t. In my earlier years here I had my share of unpleasant situations regarding my looks and native origin both from people and the authorities. I was often seen more with curiosity, given that I am, according to the media, the first Mexican to settle in Hartford. For the first 15 years or so I did not encounter any Mexicans here. People that I’ve known over the years have learned much about Mexican culture through me; conversely, I’ve learned so much not only about American life, but about many cultures from abroad, especially the Puerto Ricans, who I consider my second family.

Sampan: Finally, you’ve said that you come from a family of migrant farm workers and that “a lot of people have a stigma attached to that. I don’t. I pride myself in that heritage.” I think that’s interesting because farming and the farming industry is so dependent on these workers. Now, it seems, migrant workers in general have become a political target. How do you react to some of the political rhetoric we’ve heard of late about immigrants and immigrant workers?
Chavez: Having been the recipient of repeated verbal attacks, aggression and mocking during my early years here because of my national origin and language, I’ve long learned to deflect and educate, rather than to respond in kind. Not too many are aware that society would suffer immeasurably were it not for farming, and the threats of deportation of undocumented farm workers in this country are sure to create unnecessary anxiety and fear, and are cruel and inhumane. I think the logistics of mass deportations are unrealistic, undoable and unenforceable.

This story, which appears in the Lunar New Year Issue of Sampan, is part of a collection of stories on various types of activism. If you would like to suggest a person to profile, please email asmith@sampan.org.