Cheech Marin Brings Chicano Art to the Hamptons

By Nicole B. Brewer for Hamptons.com
Photo supplied by Cheech Marin


Known the world over as half of the iconic comedy team Cheech & Chong, Cheech Marin is a renaissance man who has transcended his career as an actor to become a children's book author, comedian, director, and renowned Chicano art collector. A week before his first scheduled visit to the Hamptons for ArtHamptons (July 13-15, 2012) I caught up with Cheech who was relaxing and enjoying a day off with his family in Los Angeles but eagerly looking forward to the visit, with a laugh he said, "I can't wait to get there!" Chicano art is close to his heart and at ArtHamptons Cheech will be, "Curating a gallery there and showing some Chicano art. The work is really great! I want to introduce Chicano art to the East Coast Hamptons crowd."

Unlike many other celebrities I've interviewed he answered his own cell phone on the first ring with a friendly voice and his famous sense of humor. He was the Cheech I had hoped to speak to, the easy going guy I knew from movies, his comedy performances, and television. We spoke about his career, dear friend Tommy Chong's battle with cancer, upcoming Birthday Bash sponsored by Hamptons.com, and his amazing art collection that began nearly 30 years ago. Cheech even took time for questions posed by the Hamptons.com Facebook Fans.

NBB: How do you define Chicano art?

CM: Ha! It comes with a side of beans and salsa. A Chicano artist takes the experience of being a Chicano, whether it's historical or sociological or class or gender, and puts his or her point of view together. To put on canvas the experience of being Chicano in this country.

NBB: You've been called one of the most important collectors of Chicano art, when did that begin?

CM: I've always educated myself about art and didn't start collecting until I got some money in the early 1970s. I got started and collected art deco stuff and when I finished with that I discovered all these Chicano painters in the mid-80s, like 1985.

NBB: Any favorite Chicano artists?

CM: I don't have a favorite, I can't. It's like trying to decide between your children. There are a lot of Chicano artists and for the last 12 years I've been doing shows and spreading the word and getting it out there. I'm excited about bringing new artists out there to the Hamptons like Carlos Donjuan. Isn't that a great name? And Werc, that's his tagging name and he's really good. Margaret Garcia is another artist. It's a really good display and it's got a lot of really beautiful big works. 


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What Is The Chicano Experience That Becomes Art?

Photograph courtesy of unidentified source

Another great article courtesy of the Huffington Post... Gracias.

This is the second article in a series by entertainer and art advocate Cheech Marin.

There are some Chicanos who don't want to be Chicanos - they want to be Mexican-American, Hispanic, or even Spanish. The same thing happened with art about the Mexican-American experience. No one wanted it to be called Chicano.

The first time I went to San Antonio, Texas in 1972, I realized right away that Chicanos were a dominant force. They ran the place; the Mayor, the Chief of Police, even the dogcatcher. But only the young dope-smoking hippies wanted to be called Chicano.

The establishment wanted stay Mexican-American or Hispanic. They worked hard for their place and recognition and didn't want to identify with the rebels.

You have to want to be Chicano to be Chicano. The hippies took the insult and turned it into a badge of pride. "Yeah, I'm a Chicano, y que?" They also thought they invented the word and that nobody had ever called themselves Chicanos before.

Chicanos and running water are endlessly fascinating. I can watch them all day.

The whole Chicano identity issue was the motivation for something that is now a major part of my life; the collection, promotion, and advocacy of Chicano art.

My interest in art must have started with my Catholic upbringing. Art was everywhere churches with its paintings, sculptures, stained glass, textiles, and fine metalwork. It was for me a portal into another world that was simultaneously soothing and scary. It held me in its thrall and still does.

I wasn't really good at doing it, however. As a kid, art meant drawing and I just didn't have a facility for it. I thought you were either good at it or not, like you could either run fast or not, or you were either tall or not. I didn't find out until later that it was something that you could learn and some people get better at it than others.

But as a kid I decided that if I couldn't do it, I would study art because I loved it. Beginning at 11 years old, I would go to the local library and check out all the art books. Page after page, I taught myself the history of art, especially painting, and kept doing it. By the time I was able to afford art, I knew what good art was because I was studying it all my life.

In 1985, I made the film "Born in East L.A." It was my first solo work after being a partner with Tommy Chong for 17 years and at the time, I wanted to learn who and what I was as an individual. It was a journey of self-discovery that led back to my Chicano roots. I started learning more Spanish and hung around with other Chicano actors and artists. Eventually, I was introduced to Chicano artists and painters, many who were around since the mid-sixties.

But they were relatively new to me, as was most contemporary art.

As soon as I saw those first paintings in person, I realized that these artists were good. Really good. I began collecting their work in earnest.

I had always been a collector of something ever since I was a kid, whether it be baseball cards or marbles or matchbook covers, whatever. I had a mania for collecting. One of the main attributes of a collector is an obsession that becomes an addiction, and I became an addict, for sure. I was in the perfect position - I knew what the art was and I had money to buy it.

What became quickly apparent was they were not getting any deserved recognition from museums and top-end galleries. They struggled and struggled for traction -- as most artists do -- but had no champion like other commercially successful artists. It doesn't just magically happen. Maybe with my celebrity and finances I could be that champion, so I started with putting together a touring Chicano art exhibition.

Ten years later, I was struggling like the artists to get the collection shown at a national level. I did my Chicano dog-and-pony show in just about every big corporate boardroom in America. I got close many times, but no cigar.

At one point, the Army was going to sponsor the show. After all, they were the number one employer of Chicanos in the country. (Wouldn't that just have frosted the cajones of all the political Chicanos? I almost did it for just that reason.) I was about to give up until Target Corporation and Hewlett-Packard Company stepped up to sponsor the show. In fact, Target stepped up for many years to support the show and connect to the Latino community, and for that, all Chicanos are obliged to shop at Target for the next ten years. Hey, it's a win-win. They have great stuff for reasonable prices. Shut up and consume.

When I finally came back to San Antonio to open my exhibit Chicano Visions: American Painters on the Verge, I came back as an elder statesman of "Chicano-hood". Things had loosened up quite a bit. Chicanos were still the Mayor, the Chief of Police, and the dogcatcher, but many of them were my age or younger and grew up being Chicanos with no stigma attached. There were still those old-line viejos who answered to Hispanic, but they were mostly Chamber-of- Commerce types doing out of convenience to keep from confusing the old-line white people.

We threw the best art opening party in years. Los Lobos played and there was free beer, tequila, and food. There were many Chicano converts that opening night.

But, in true Chicano fashion, there was also controversy and it all centered on the use of the word "Chicano." Many museums were averse to using "Chicano" because of its political implication and history. It was like inviting the crazy cousins to the party. To them, Chicanos were fist-waving, placard-carrying, headband-wearing, dope-smoking protesters picketing anything with the word "Chicano" that they didn't inaugurate. They especially didn't like sponsorship, which they felt co-opted their identity to serve corporate America and enslave them to beer or whatever. There was a Chicano-wide protest against Coors, which they felt discriminated against Chicanos in their hiring practices. Now we couldn't eat grapes or drink Coors beer. Was life even worth living now?

They demonstrated against any and all events that had a cactus, an eagle or an image of Our

Lady of Guadalupe that they didn't originate or approve. Fair enough. I didn't want to be defined by somebody else outside my group, especially some establishment type and end up being lard-less "Hispanic." (Besides, a Chicano event was not considered a success unless it was picketed and protested by other Chicanos.)

So the end result was Chicanos were excluded from mainstream museums. Who needed the headache? The museums labeled Chicano art as "Agitprop folk art" and dismissed it into a handmade art ghetto that had its time and "see you later."

Then a funny thing happened. The artists kept evolving, which goes to the heart and soul of what a Chicano is.

Like its art, "Chicano" is an evolutionary term. Each generation has as much right to define what a Chicano is as any generation that came before them. One of the main aesthetic characteristics of Chicano is traditional Mexican meets contemporary America. It's where they meet, influence each other, and create something totally new. That's where Chicano identity is born. As soon as a Mexican crosses the border and establishes a home in the U.S., they are a Mexican tadpole on their way to becoming a Chicano frog.

So can a Mexican become a Chicano? Sure! I think that as soon as his or her experience and length of residence in this country outweighs his or her Mexican experience, then upon declaration: "Sas que", you're a Chicano. For example, is Carlos Santana, born in Mexico but the majority of his life here, a Mexican or a Chicano? It can be argued that he is a citizen of the world - a true Chicano expression.

In Los Angeles, inner-city Latino youths have been calling themselves "Chicanos" no matter what Latin American country they come from - Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Costa Rica, wherever. They have redefined Chicano as being engaged with American culture while still retaining Latino roots. They recognize it as an evolutionary step in an immigration process. Either that or they got tired of explaining that "Honduras is not part of Mexico, homes".

The academic world has a mania for codification. They would like the official "Chicano Period" to be from 1964 to around 1978, and then break it up into when the "Post-Chicano Period" and then the "Neo-Post Chicano Period" would begin.

I take a much larger view of the Chicano experience. It's still in its infancy and we still don't know what form it will take. The important development in Chicano history will be the next generation. This current wave of immigration is different than all other previous migration patterns in that it is happening in all states simultaneously. It is longer confined to the West and Southwest. There are large Latino communities everywhere - New Hampshire, Mississippi, Ohio. It doesn't matter. They are everywhere and 80% of them are under the age of 25.

The question is what are these new Chicanos going to look like, act like, and be like? When a Mexican also lives as a Kentuckian, what is that going to produce, y'all? If they are raised in the Hamptons, will they wear white or turquoise after Labor Day?

The country is about to undergo a fundamental change and it will be for the good. Latinos are bringing in a much-needed new wave of fresh energy that will propel the country forward in the years to come. They came here to work, so stop hating on them. Like those Mexican-American youth in the '60s and '70s used Chicano to revisit Mexican culture, today's Mexicano youth are using Chicano to become part of American-Mexican culture. That keeps Chicano experience and Chicano art an evolving concept.

 

Follow Cheech Marin on Twitter: www.twitter.com/@CheechMarin

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What Is A Chicano?

From the Huffington Post

This is the first article in the Huffington Post a series by actor, director, and art advocate Cheech Marin.

Who the hell knows?

To me, you have to declare yourself a Chicano in order to be a Chicano. That makes a Chicano a Mexican-American with a defiant political attitude that centers on his or her right to self-definition. I'm a Chicano because I say I am.

Photo from www.cheechandchong.com

Click photo to enlarge

But no Chicano will agree with me because one of the characteristics of being Chicano is you don't agree with anybody, or anything. And certainly not another Chicano. We are the only tribe that has all chiefs and no Indians. But don't ever insult a Chicano about being a Chicano because then all the other Chicanos will be on you with a vengeance. They will even fight each to be first in line to support you.

It's not a category that appears on any U.S. Census survey. You can check White, African-American, Native-American, Asian, Pacific Islander and even Hispanic (which Chicanos hate). But there is no little box you can check that says Chicano. However, you can get a Ph.D. in Chicano Studies from Harvard and a multitude of other universities. You can cash retirement checks from those same prestigious universities after having taught Chicano Studies for 20 years, but there still no official recognition from the government.

No wonder Chicanos are confused.

So where did the word Chicano come from? Again, no two Chicanos can agree, so here is my definition what I think. In true Chicano fashion, this should be the official version.

The word "Chicano" was originally a derisive term from Mexicans to other Mexicans living in the United States. The concept was that those Mexicans living in the U.S. were no longer truly Mexicanos because they had given up their country by living in Houston, Los Angeles, "Guada La Habra," or some other city. They were now something else and something less. Little satellite Mexicans living in a foreign country. They were something small. They were chicos. They were now Chicanos.

If you lived near the U.S.-Mexican border, the term was more or less an insult, but always some kind of insult. In the early days, the connotation of calling someone a Chicano was that they were poor, illiterate, destitute people living in tin shacks along the border. As soon as they could get a car loan and could move farther away from the border, the term became less of an insult over the years. But the resentment still lingered.

Some ask "Why can't you people just all be Hispanic?" Same reason that all white people can't just be called English. Just because you speak English or Spanish does not mean that you are one group. Hispanic is a census term that some dildo in a government office made up to include all Spanish-speaking brown people. It is especially annoying to Chicanos because it is a catch-all term that includes the Spanish conqueror. By definition, it favors European cultural invasion, not indigenous roots. It also includes all Latino groups, which brings us together because Hispanic annoys all Latino groups.

Why? Because they're Latino and it's part of their nature. (Aren't you glad you asked?)

So what is a "Latino?" (It's like opening Pandora's box, huh?) "Latino" is refers to all Spanish-speaking people in the "New World" - South Americans, Central Americans, Mexicans, and Brazilians (even though they speak Portuguese). All those groups and their descendents living in the United States want to be called Latinos to recognize their Indian roots.

Mexicans call it having the "Nopal" in their face, that prickly pear cactus with big flat leaves that Mexicans eat, revere, and think they look like. When you go to Mexico and walk down the street in Mexico City, it's like walking through a Nopal cactus garden. Nopal is everywhere.

For Latinos who don't want to be so "Nopalese," there's always "Mexican-American." Or the dreaded "Hispanic" that should only be used when faced with complete befuddlement from the person asking what you are.

Because I am the only official version of what being Chicano is, I say Mexican-American is the politically correct middle ground between Hispanic and Chicano. Like in the song I wrote to be sung by a Chicano trying to be P.C. "Mexican-Americans; don't like to just get into gang fights; they like flowers and music; and white girls named Debbie too."

All those names made it confusing for me growing up. I lived in an all-black neighborhood, followed by an all-white one, and other kids in the always called me Mexican in both neighborhoods.

It never bothered me until one day I thought to myself "Hey, wait a minute, I'm not Mexican." I've never even been to Mexico and I don't speak Spanish. Sure, I eat Mexican food at family gatherings where all of the adults speak Spanish, but I eat Cheerios and pizza and hamburgers more. No, I'm definitely not a "Mexican." Maybe I was "Mexican-ish," just like some people were "Jew-ish."

These thoughts all ran through my mind when I chased down an alley by five young African-American kids. "Yo, Messican!" they called out in their patois. I stopped in my tracks and spun around. "I'm not a Mexican!" I shouted defiantly. They stopped too, then stared at me. The leader spoke, "Fool! What you talking 'bout? You Mexican as a taco. Look at you."

"No,", I said. "To be a Mexican, you have to be from Mexico. You're African-American. Are you from Africa?"

"N--. You crazy. I'm from South-Central, just like you."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" I said. "Did anybody knock on your door and ask you did you want to be African-American?"

"Hell no! The social workers don't even knock on our door, they too scared," he said, cracking everyone up.

"Then why you letting people call you whatever they want? What do you want to be called?" I asked.

He looked at the others, thought about it for a few seconds and then said proudly, "I'm a Blood."

"Ooo-kay," I said making it up as I went along. "Then you're a Blood-American."

That seemed to go over well. They all nodded. "Yeah, we Blood-American."

"Well, then go out and be the best Blood-Americans that you can be. Peace, brothers, I got to blow." I walked away and so did they. Self-identification saved the day. Yet, I still was dissatisfied with what I wanted to call myself.

When I got home, there was a party going on. A bunch of relatives had come over for dinner and everybody was sitting around gabbing and drinking beer. My Uncle Rudy was in the middle of a story: "So, I took the car into the dealer and he said, 'Yeah, the repairs gonna run you about $250.' Two-fifty? Estas loco? Hell, just give me a pair of pliers and some tin foil. I'll fix it - I'm a Chicano mechanic. Two-fifty, mis nalgas."

And that was the defining epiphany. A Chicano was someone who could do anything. A Chicano was someone who wasn't going to get ripped off. He was Uncle Rudy. He was industrious, inventive, and he wants another beer. So I got my Uncle Rudy another beer because, on that day, he showed me that I was a Chicano. Hispanic my ass, I've been a Chicano ever since.

 

Follow Cheech Marin on Twitter: www.twitter.com/@CheechMarin

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Off target

A new show at the Colorado Springs, Colorado Sangre de Cristo Arts Center unveils the importance of fact-checking ... or not

by Edie Adelstein

Maria Lopez's upcoming exhibit at the Sangre de Cristo Arts & Conference Center features colorful, abstract works depicting Christian scenes. But the most eye-catching aspect of the Pueblo artist's self-titled show came within a press release.

"Her works," the Sangre wrote of Lopez, "are currently in the art collections of celebrities such as: Barack Obama, Dane Cook, Cheech Marin, George Lopez, Carlos Mencia, Chris Rock, David Letterman, Martha Stewart, Conan O'Brein [sic], Wanda Sykes, Tracy Morgan, John Leguizamo and others."

Sure enough, Lopez's Web site, lopezme.com, listed more than 20 celebrities who have one of her works in their "estate collections," and recently, the Pueblo Chieftain published an article that mentioned some of those names.

Asked her secret, Lopez happily shares: She goes to concerts, stand-up shows and other public appearances — and gives the works to famous people's handlers and representatives. She admits she doesn't know whether any of her works actually make it into celebrities' homes at all.

The Indy contacted several celebrity representatives about Lopez's paintings. While most inquiries were not returned, Melissa Richardson Banks, a representative of Cheech Marin, says she has no record of Lopez's work, despite Marin being an avid collector of Chicano art.

"I manage the collection, and I don't know who she is," says Banks, who adds that she'll ask Lopez to remove Marin's mention from her site.

A representative from Martha Stewart's publicity firm didn't know where to begin to look, but shares Banks' view that Lopez's paintings were probably classified as simple fan gifts, which generally reside well outside of estate collections.

When asked about the discrepancies, Lopez says she didn't know that her self-promotion — which she sees as both business plan and fan hobby — might have been seen as misleading.

Slim standard

At best, Lopez may be faulted for aggressive idealism or reckless naïveté. Either way, her claims didn't set off alarms at the Sangre.

Its curator of visual arts, Karin Larkin, approved Lopez's works hanging in the museum. She says she did not fact-check Lopez's credentials, and in fact is unapologetic about it. (Disclosure: Larkin is an ex-professor of mine.)

"Basically, we print the information that she gives us," says Larkin, adding, "To be quite honest, whose collections she's in doesn't really factor into my decision as to whether or not I display her. And the information that goes out into the press releases, I don't necessarily put together."

Plus, Larkin adds, "She's a foyer show. It's not like one of the big galleries that we're putting together."

Sangre's marketing specialist Nicki Hart, who assembled the press release, says taking information straight from the artist is good enough: "I take it in good faith that that information coming from the source is correct."

If that sounds strange, what's stranger is that few people in the arts sector seem bothered by it.

Dewey Blanton, an American Association of Museums media representative, says that in public relations, doing background research is a given, even if there's no standard for fact-checking exhibit information. And yet minutes later, Blanton calls back to confess that if he himself were an overextended, underpaid employee in a "small museum," he may be apt to overlook such things.

Kimberley Sherwood, a board member for the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center and a local nonprofit consultant, puts it this way: "I think there's a lot of room for innocent mistakes ... when we have fairly slim resources and people wearing many hats doing lots of different kinds of tasks ... there's a lot of room for understanding.

"I don't know that there's anything really there," says Sherwood of the situation, "other than perhaps a slim staff working hard to get their programming schedule out there so that they can encourage people to come and look at cool art."

In nearly a half-dozen calls, no one was willing to comment on the record about any dangers inherent to the Sangre's sloppiness.

Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center curator Tariana Navas-Nieves is careful to say that all institutions are different, but that FAC releases and gallery text are fact-checked.

"I would say that every museum has their own processes on selecting artists to exhibit, or art into their collection," she says. "And obviously all museums generally fact-check the information, the biographical and support information for each artist."

Official approval
The irony here? Lopez probably doesn't need to embellish her biography. Recently, Lopez submitted a group of works to Navas-Nieves for consideration to become part of the FAC's permanent collection as a gift. And Lopez's art was accepted, receiving Navas-Nieves' formal recommendation as well as museum committee approval.

"My presentation of the works has to do with the works," says Navas-Nieves. "In her case, I found interesting how she takes religious subject matter and gives it kind of a modern take. ... So my selection of those works was based on that."

Meanwhile, at the Sangre, Hart says the staff is working on a plan for future situations like this one, but is not yet giving specifics. As of press time, Sangre had not released any clarification or statement. However, Lopez has changed her Web site, writing now that celebrities' paintings "were gifted."

— edie@csindy.com