History of Art in San Miguel: The lost works of Federico Cantú

By Natalie Taylor

Federico Cantú Garza was a renowned Mexican painter, engraver, draughtsman, sculptor, and muralist, who often said: “The only thing I can’t avoid is to create art…I simply take my brushes and I paint…” He was born in Nuevo Leon, on March 3, 1907 to Adolfo Cantu, a physician, journalist, and poet; and Maria Louisa Garza “Loreley,” a highly respected writer. He is one more artist whose artistic footprint remains in San Miguel—although, unfortunately, that footprint was defiled. 

He spent his childhood between Nuevo Leon and San Antonio, Texas, until the family moved permanently to Mexico in 1920. In 1922, at the age of 14 he began studying art at the Open Air School in Coyoacan, directed by Alfredo Ramos Martinez—the same man one who recognized the gift of another great artist who lived in San Miguel, Pedro Martinez. For a brief period, Federico studied fresco painting with Diego Rivera. He then moved to Paris, where he met and interacted with some of the major players of the avant garde movement—Pablo Picasso, Andre Breton, Antonin Artaud, and the poet Cesar Vallejo. Their influence was clear; one definitely finds an air of intellectual bohemianism of 1920s Paris in many of Cantu’s works.   

In 1943, while war raged in Europe, Cantu decided to find a peaceful haven in San Miguel de Allende, teaching mural fresco technique. His close friend, McKinley Helm, an art collector and promoter of Mexican talent, proposed that Cantu create a mural for the Parroquia. The pair of murals, on the lateral walls of the east transept, show scenes of the Last Supper, and the crucifixion of Christ. However, when the work was completed, several wealthy ladies of San Miguel strongly objected to the images depicted because they claimed the models used were servants, and they found this offensive. The parish priest, Jose Mercadillo decided to redo the murals, (he considered himself a muralist). He covered them with lime and sand, and then began his “restoration” work, in effect destroying the work of a truly fine artist. The murals were saved from total obliteration because the Vatican intervened. Federico Cantú always wished to return and restore his murals, but other projects kept him too busy. This is, sadly, the state of the murals in the Parroquia to this day, and Cantu’s grandson, Adolfo Cantú Elizarrará, has been trying for years to have the government—state, city, or federal—pay for the restoration of the work. An interesting anecdote, told by the grandson, is that when Jose Mercadillo died, Federico—who obviously was not fond of the priest—was asked to make a comment. “May god keep him at his bosom…at a low fire,” he said.

After the incident in San Miguel, Cantu dedicated himself almost strictly to murals, for public buildings and for private homes. Though considered part of the Mexican muralism movement, his style was different of the one used by other well-known muralists whose visual message was pride in Mexican cultural and historical identity, and favored socialism. Cantu used older and more academic forms of painting and sculpture, combining mythology with modern symbolism. He was one of the few major muralists in his time who painted religious themes. “Is it fair to discount me as a Mexican,” he asked, “just because my paints do not drip mole or sweat pulque?” 

Cantú also created watercolors, oil paintings, drawings, inks, prints, monotypes, and sculptures. He was admired for the quality of his drawings, which incorporated the people and landscapes of Mexico into his historical and religious works. 

He had exhibitions of his works in the United States, Europe, and Mexico. His works were shown at the Tate Gallery in London; at MOMA, Macy’s Gallery, and the Perls Gallery in New York. He was an instructor at the prestigious National School of Painting, Sculpture, and Engravings, “La Esmeralda,” in Mexico City. He also taught at the University of California. His work can be found at various locations in Mexico and the US, as well as in the Charles Morgan Gallery in New York, and in the Vatican City Museum.  

After a career that spanned more than 65 years, Federico Cantú died in Mexico City on January 29, 1989. The art critic Raquel Tibol called Federico Cantú, “The Great Forgotten One.” However, throughout his life, and even after death, he gathered innumerable recognitions. Go, see his work at the Parroquia, it is still worthy in spite of the damage.Natalie Taylor: BA in English Lit and Journalism, Loyola University, Chicago, 1995. MFA in Creative Writing, Vermont College, Montpelier, VT, 1999. Published writer, editor, journalist. Spanish teacher in the US, English teacher in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Translator. www.natalietaylor.org Contact: tangonata@gmail.com