“Like many great artists of his generation, Mexican cinematographer Gabriel Figueroa’s life and vision shaped and was shaped by the historical events that propelled the Mexican nation into modernity after the Revolution of 1910.”[1]

Agreeing with Elena Feder, Gabriel Figueroa was an important artist and personality during the Golden Age of Mexican cinema. His cinematography and collaboration with some of Mexico’s best directors contributed to a cultural shift towards modernization and urbanization. This essay looks at three Gabriel Figueroa films and how his techniques construct topographies of cultural modernity in Mexico. It will examine the cultural anxieties of modernity and consider whether these anxieties are perpetuated through Figueroa’s cinematography. The basis of my argument will be rooted in a textual and stylistic analysis of Over there on the Big Ranch (Fernando de Fuentes, 1936), La Perla (Emilio Fernandez, 1947) and The Fugitive (John Ford, 1946). Figueroa’s cinematographic techniques will be examined to distinguish any stylistic similarities over the three films. A textual analysis of Figueroa’s cinematography of the opening sequences of the three films will allow me to consider Figueroa’s fundamental aesthetical style. Figueroa’s innovative camerawork needs to be deconstructed and analyzed by specific aesthetical techniques. Figueroa’s use of deep focus, low angle shots and high angle shots, compositional styles and lighting will be analyzed across the three films.

The three films have been chosen specifically as they encompass a wide time scale in which Figueroa worked within, as well as considering the importance of transnational cinema.  The three films consider Figueroa’s cinematographic success from 1936 to 1947, often considered his early part of his career. Nevertheless, this decade gives a broader social and political framework of Mexico to explore, especially with governmental influence in cinema in the late 1930s. The nationalist project of the 1930s will be considered, as well as Figueroa’s heavy influence of nationalist visual art of the 1940s. This essay will also consider whether Figueroa’s cinematic background and experience (especially the time spent in Hollywood) is visualized and prominent in his modes of cinematography in the three films. 

Cultural modernity is a complex concept.  It is difficult to define cultural modernity quintessentially as a number of issues need to be considered. The concept cultivates a number of socio-cultural tensions such as modernity vs. traditionalism, rural vs. urban lifestyle and location. The adaptation to changes in family dynamics, gender roles and the exposure to industrialism and urbanized spaces are all integral to topographies of cultural modernity. Vanessa Knights summarizes that from the late 1930s Mexico was a “transitional period characterized by rapid urbanization, industrialization, incorporation into the international economy and the institutionalization of the revolution.”[2]Culture then, including cinema, mass mediums such as newspapers, radio and later television and other visual arts had to follow suit by perpetuating a socially accepted modernity and way of living.  Cultural modernity in cinema includes a recuperation of pre-revolutionary traditions, characters and ideologies, the use of folkloric music to reinforce a humanized and community social dynamic. Cinema of the late 1930s was utilized as a cultural tool to constitute an emblematic and specifically Mexican identity, produce films which were exportable internationally, as well as presenting societal embracement and societal anxiety of modernity. It is clear cultural modernity in Mexican cinema was integral to the nationalist campaign, campańa nacionalista, as its representations of Mexican culture and landscape supported the notion of “Mexicanidad”. Joanne Hershfield identifies this transitional period for Mexican culture as a “negotiation of nationalism.”[3]

Before deconstructing the attributes of Figueroa’s cinematography, it is important to consider the opening images of the three films. Firstly, Over there on the Big Ranch fades in from black and we see an archway titled Rancho Grande. The archway is surrounded by greenery. It then cuts to two men herding running cows, with a backdrop of the mountainous countryside. Secondly, La Perla fades in to a beach sunset, with the sky dominating the screen. It then cuts to a curvilinear perspective of the cliffs and the beach with a backdrop of rural mountains. Thirdly, The Fugitive fades in to a deserted pebbly path in the midst of a green and mountainous landscape. It is clear that Figueroa embraces the Mexican landscape in his films as a way to celebrate the nation’s heritage and identity. The on-location shooting creates a nationally specific quality to his films, yet the narratives are often allegorical with universal themes. Carlos Monsivais argues that “Figueroa’s cinematography possesses a vehement lyricism, romantic majesty and epic wisdom.”[4]The Mexican setting is romanticized and becomes a character of its own in Figueroa’s films. Figueroa’s eye for Mexican landscape is important when considering topographies of cultural modernity as rejuvenating the way the nation sees their land arguably adds to a national congruity. Landscape and location is fundamentally a nationalist entity, something agreeable to its entire people. Characterizing Mexico’s beautiful and diverse landscape is a cinematic trait that is at the heart of Figueroa’s work and is apparent across all three films.

Considering Mexican cinema on a transnational level is arguably a culturally modernist way of thinking. Referring back to Vanessa Knights comment on Mexico “incorporating into the international economy”, it is important to consider Mexican cinema within a globalized economy. The rapid growth of globalization at the turn of the 20th century meant that industry and culture were directed at a mainstream and globalized economy. Transnational industry and globalization are inextricably linked to modernization and urbanization. With progressive socio-economical policies during Lazaro Cardenas presidency from 1934 – 1940, Mexican cinema was being imagined as to both consolidate a specifically Mexican identity yet retain a universal appeal through narrative and genre. It would be inconclusive if one did not consider Gabriel Figueroa’s position in the film industry through a transnational lens. Ceri Higgins comments that “the industry that Figueroa entered was, from the outset, a transnational concern.”[5]This transnational concern is intertwined with the intersections of culture, modernity and cosmopolitanism. Aureilo de los Reyes idea of ‘Cosmopolitan nationalism’ is significant when considering the work of Gabriel Figueroa.

The Mexican government’s role in cinema was becoming more concrete during the 1930s. Tom Dey claims that it was the government-funded CLASA that sent Figueroa to Hollywood in 1935[6]. Gabriel Figueroa’s professional experience spent in the U.S., more specifically his apprenticeship with Greg Toland, was momentous in terms of formulating his aesthetical signature style. Figueroa’s professional networking with cinematographers Alex and Phillips and Greg Toland were inspiring. Greg Toland was an experimental cinematographer who reveled in freedom from the director to create innovative techniques. Furthermore, Figueroa’s artistic influences of Mexican muralists, graphic arts and photography were quintessential elements of his cinematographic style. The next section will examine Figueroa’s artistic influences and Greg Toland’s (and subsequently Figueroa’s) cinematographic visions through the use of compositional style, deep focus, low angle shots, high angle shots.

Composition in cinema is essentially the arrangement of visual aesthetics within the frame. An important component of composition is perspective. Linear perspective is the most common perspective cinematographers work within as it creates depth of field and is an honest representation of space and location. However, Gerardo Murillo, also known as Dr. Atl, was an innovative artist who experimented with changing perspectives. Dr. Atl was an important artistic figure in Figueroa’s career and inspired him to adopt curvilinear perspective in cinema. Curvilinear perspective in cinema was a “representational scheme that stressed spherical shapes in nature.”[7]Dr. Atl’s passion for vast landscapes can be seen in his paintings, such as “Nubes Sobre el Valle” 1932 and is seen as a key component in Figueroa’s aesthetical style. Figueroa became known for his constant use of the Mexican sky and clouds as they were referred to as ‘Figueroa’s skies’. Charles Ramirez Berg comments that low angle shots “shifted the balance of the composition skyward.”[8] The sky often dominated the frame. The use of brewing clouds and the overpowering sky can be seen in the final sequences of the La Perla. Quino and Juana have escaped the chase in the swampy jungle terrain. Figueroa uses numerous extreme long shots to capture the couple’s isolation, with the sky dominating half of the frame. It is as if the sky cuts the frame in half and positions the couple’s struggles in the lower half and the forefront of the frame.

Carlos Monsivias quotes Gabriel Figueroa himself, “I incorporated Mexican landscape in balanced forms, chiaroscuros, half-toned skies, the kind of immense clouds we all fear…”[9]The appearance of brewing clouds were a regular occurrence in Figueroa’s cinematography to create an intricate relationship between the Mexican landscape and its people. Charles Ramirez Berg continues, “The sky and the clouds that hovered… were as extraordinary a feature as the national landscape as the Mexican people themselves.”[10]It is clear that ‘Figueroa’s skies’ were significant in developing and furthering the importance of cinematography. His incorporation and adaptation of Dr. Atl’s curvilinear perspective can be seen as contributing to the modernist way in which filmmakers visually constructed the diegetic world through multiple perspectives. 

Figueroa uses curvilinear perspective in different ways aside from his dominant image of the sky. The cinematography in The Fugitive incorporates curvilinear perspective as an innovative way to manipulate the audience’s eyesight. The opening of The Fugitive begins with the fugitive, played by Henry Fonda, riding a mule on a pebbly path in the midst of a mountainous countryside. The pebbly path is curved from the top left of the screen to the bottom left of the screen. There is another shot in the opening sequence where Figueroa the small community gathers around the holy water basin in the abandoned church. The basin cuts into the crowd and creates a curved shape. These instances of curvilinear perspective are perhaps more subtle than ‘Figueroa’s skies’, nevertheless reiterate a sense of modernism by incorporating Dr. Atl’s artwork. It could be seen as a cinematographic way to manipulate the audience’s eye, as well as to further the narrative of anticlericalism.

Returning back to Joanne Hersfield’s “negotiation of nationalism”, this notion is discussed in Figueroa’s first film as being the director of cinematography. Both topographies of traditionalism and modernity are presented. Over there on the Big Ranch is the most popular comedia ranchera film of the Golden Age of Mexican cinema. It recuperates the idea of the charreria through images of such as the hacienda, the charro and the china pablano. It is important to analyze the use of deep focus camerawork in Over there in the Big Ranch and its cinematographic significance in perpetuating an idea of cultural modernity. Greg Toland was an important influence in terms of cinematographic uses of deep focus. Deep focus requires elements at very different depths to both be in focus. The use of deep focus is a sincere representation of space and location. It is also a cinematic technique which is similar to that of photography, something which Figueroa pursued before entering the film industry. Charles Raimerz Berg comments that a number of Emilio Fernandez-Gabriel Figueroa films (La Perla being an example of this) echoed Greg Toland’s “exceptional deep focus and the dramatic lighting that modeled figures against dark backgrounds…”[11]Over there on the Big Ranch is a personal and humanized story, with considerable dialogue. Figueroa uses deep focus numerous times as another way to capture character reactions and relations. Shot/reverse shots are prominent in his style, yet his use of deep focus is seen as original.

A prime example of Figueroa’s deep focus style in Over there on the Big Ranch is when Florentino is playing the guitar and Cruz sings while doing the housework. Figueroa captures Cruz singing through a long shot, from an outside perspective. Filming her through the barred window frames her within her domestic confinements as well as allowing space for Martin to enter the frame. Martin enters the shot from the left and starts to sing along with Cruz. Both Martin and Cruz are in focus to capture their interactions between one another. This scene could be read in a number of ways. On a diegetic level, it furthers the narrative as the audience is aware of Martin’s affection for Cruz.  However, the inclusion of the barred window compared with the outside street possibly creates resentment toward confinement and conformity. This confinement and conformity could arguably be a cultural signifier of modernization and urbanization.

This sequence, along with others in the film reiterates gender roles as traditionalist and conservative. The expressionistic use of costumes can be referenced back to the 19th century painting in Mexico called costumbrismo. Traditionalist gender roles are reinforced through the use of costume as well as contributing to the projection of a national sentiment in Mexican films. Eric Segre considers Over there on the Big Ranch as nostalgic and revisionist[12]and Figueroa’s use of deep focus is a reflection of this. To an extent, the film is a nostalgic entity, and presenting cultural patriarchy and stark gender roles both integrates past and present ideologies, as well as posing an oppositional stance on modernization and urbanization. Notably, part of onscreen cultural modernity in Mexican cinema of the 1930s was anxiety and resistance. Over there on the Big Ranch is an exemplary film when considering representations of both modernity and traditions. It includes both as a way to rejuvenate a national identity of Mexico.

Carlos Monsivais argues that cinematography was not a prominent feature in cinema of the 1930s, “Cinematography attracted little attention with the beginning of sound movies. It was only seen as a technical medium, imperative through neutral; it was warranted no cultural assessment.”[13]From this, it is clear that Figueroa’s use of cinematography in La Perla is much more established. Figueroa’s adoption of deep focus in La Perla is arguably more competent and part of his signature style. Despite aesthetically pleasing and beautiful, the opening shots of La Perla are classic examples of Figueroa’s competent use of deep focus. The opening sequence consists of shots of crashing waves interspersed with shots of the back of cloaked figures standing on the beach. It begins with a two long-shot of two cloaked figures, who appear to be women. After cutting to the crashing waves, it returns back to a three long-shot with the same camera positioning as before. The third time it returns back to the beach, the angle switches to introduce one cloaked figure on the right hand-side and in the forefront, the three cloaked women on a diagonal line but still in focus on the left hand-side. The shot also has the crashing waves in the background. Each time it cuts back to the beach, more cloaked figures in white are introduced.

The sequence is exemplary of Figueroa’s masterful cinematographic skills. The use of diagonal lines and angles along with the deep focus highlight the relationship between the land and its people. I found the close-ups of the waves crashing onto the sand, then retracting back could be a visual motif for the dangerous unknown continuously creeping up on an indigenous community. Ceri Higgins notes Figueroa’s intentions for deep focus, “Figueroa’s – aim in pursuit of depth of field was an attempt to better express the internal integrity of a film’s narrative themes.”[14]Depth of field and deep focus were one of Figueroa’s most common cinematographic techniques. It could be said in the opening sequence of La Perla Figueroa is trying to stress the complex relationship between the indigenous people of Mexico and their land. Elena Feder’s interview with Figueroa reveals that both Fernandez and Figueroa were supporters of indigenous peoples, “Theirs has been an important struggle for me, and their fair portrayal a major focus of the vast majority of my films.”[15]Another Fernandez-Figueroa film which presents indigenous people positively is Maria Candelaria (Emilio Fernandez, 1943). Both these films validate the indigenous legacy in the face of entrenched negativity toward nativism. These projections, composed by Figueroa’s beautiful cinematography, were an ideologically and culturally modernist way of thinking. It is clear that deep focus was a significant technique for Figueroa, especially in his films with Emilio Fernandez. Figueroa uses deep focus in a number of his films, yet to different degrees.

Low angle shots are a defining characteristic for Gabriel Figueroa’s cinematography. A prime example of Figueroa’s low angle camera positioning is in La Perla. Quino stands up on the boat, after having found the pearl from the ocean; he holds it up and cackles. Although the scene is amplified for allegorical effect, the use of the low angle camera positioning presents Quino as powerful and transcendent. Quino towers the shot and the sun reflects off his masculine body. It is a sight for masculinity and capitalist corruption. The shot includes his wife, Juana, reinforcing her low status in comparison with Quino. It is as if the pearl has elevated Quino on a social, economical and spiritual level. This specific low angle shot of Quino, played by Pedro Armendariz, contributes to the modernized image of Mexican masculinity. His physicality is also stressed in the underwater sequences when he dives for the pearl.

Another example of low angle shots to illustrate power is in The Fugitive. I found this specific sequence in the film to capture the socio-cultural tension between innocent civilians and corrupt capitalist values. This scene epitomizes the film’s resistance stance against cultural modernity as it perpetuates unjust social systems of power terrorizing small communities just trying to survive. The scene takes place in the hills where the fugitive priest, played by Henry Fonda, who has been helping the community’s rejuvenation of Christianity. Members of the small community are walking along a pebbly path. It cuts to a medium shot of children riding on a mule, a man leading the mule and a man playing the guitar. It then cuts to the police on horses, led by the Lieutenant, racing to capture the fugitive. There is one image which is most striking. It is a low angle shot of policemen on horses galloping and trampling on hundreds of sombreros. For me, this image epitomizes social fear of modernization, urbanism and capitalist corruption. Its symbolism is indicative of modernist values destroying traditionalist values and a previous way of life.

There is a similar scene in The Fugitive where the policemen are now chasing the fugitive through the corn fields. It again cuts to a low angle shot of the horses’ legs destroying the community’s agriculture. It is essentially tearing through the community’s livelihood. I found both these images a cultural signifier of social anguish toward modernism and urbanization. However, Seth Fein’s reading of The Fugitive indicates a fear of communism rather than modernism, “Ford presented a severe anti-clerical message about the danger that communism posed to peasant values, traditions and beliefs.”[16]Certainly, Ford and Figueroa depict a social fear of totalitarianism but to interpret this as a direct resistance against communism is too opinionated. I find Fein’s argument weak; grouping communism with anticlericalism fundamentally neglects their true definitions. Anticlericalism is a clear message that permeates throughout the film, mainly through the innocence of the fugitive himself, yet there is no direct reference to communism. The paramilitary depicted in The Fugitive are undoubtedly totalitarian and oppressive but Fein’s direct assumption of communism is ineffectual.

High angle shots are used in Figueroa’s films, but perhaps not to the same degree as low angle shots. High angle shots are useful to capture a collective group or community in one static frame. Figueroa uses high angle shots in Over there in the Big Ranch when Jose and Martin have a tense discussion through the use of song in the cantina. The high angle shots are positioned to capture the community witnessing their heated musical discussion, as if they are the chorus. Throughout the sequence, spectators often laugh and mock Jose and Martin. This elevated camera positioning creates a vision of national sentiment. The majority of the chorus is wearing sombreros in these high angle shots which perpetuate a specifically Latin American heritage and celebration. Figueroa’s masterful cinematography of the performance and musical sequences in Over there on the Big Ranch romanticize pre-revolutionary rural lifestyle, yet the music itself appealed to a modernized audience. The incorporation of performances by Tito Guizar, for example, was important in infusing modernized forms of expression, such as song and dance.

High angle shots are used in abundance in The Fugitive. A prime example is at the end of the film is when the fugitive is marched out into the courtyard by the police. Figueroa uses both low and high angle shots to dramatize the fugitive’s doomed fate. The low angle shots of the fugitive walking in his sandals next to the policemen’s boots again distinguish an opposition to a modernized and controlled society. However, the high angle shots of the fugitive being marched out into the courtyard arguably capture the moment in a specific Mexican location. Arguably, Figueroa was influenced by the modernist photographer, Paul Strand. Paul Strand’s use of high angle camera positioning with a backdrop of an ancient architecture in his photograph “Wall Street” (1915) is echoed in the ending sequence of The Fugitive. The shadowing pillars are important in reiterating societal fear of industrialism. Another direct reference to industrialism is after the opening sequence, the camera cuts to a close up of a noisy steam ship. In contrast with the previous sequence in the mountainous countryside, it is clear industry and urbanism are not encouraged.

Lighting and shadowing is a prominent feature in Figueroa’s films. His use of light dark shadowing is an important feature in The Fugitive especially. The opening sequence is exemplary of Figueroa’s use of shadowing to further and better meaning of the narrative. When the fugitive enters the abandoned church for the first time, the light from the outside contrasted with the dark gloomy church create a silhouette. However, the fugitive’s arms are still holding the double doors, making the silhouette appear to have wings and referencing a powerful and spiritual other. Carlos Monsivais that Figueroa’s visions were never realistic, “A triumph of allegory over realism. Even though Figueroa never idealizes, he believes in something. Reality as such doesn’t exist in the movies.”[17]The natural sunlight in La Perla could be seen as a direct reference to the pearl itself. The opening and final images of the film are of a distant horizon, with the sun setting. The sun in these images is small and central to the frame and is a visual motif for the importance of the pearl.

To conclude, Figueroa’s cinematographic contribution to cultural modernity was substantial. Certainly, Figueroa’s cinematography in La Perla and The Fugitive is more expressive and established compared with Over there on the Big Ranch.. It was important to consider Figueroa’s contribution to Mexico’s cultural modernity in both a visualized and production sense.  Ceri Higgins argues that “Toland also championed and passed onto Figueroa a reassessment of the traditional role and function of the cinematographer.”[18]This reassessment of the role of the cinematographer is seen in both La Perla and The Fugitive. I find Figueroa’s work in La Perla also contributes a ideologically modernist way of thinking. Elena Feder’s interview with Figueroa asks an important question of which Gabriel Figueroa considers his favorite pieces of work, nicely lending itself to my prominent discussion of La Perla and The Fugitive. Figueroa answers, “Cinematographically, The Fugitive is my favorite. My other favorites are La Perla and Enamoranda.”[19]Topographies of cultural modernity are visualized through romanticized images of the Mexican landscape.

 

Bibliography

Berg, Charles Ramirez. (1995) “The Cinematic Invention of Mexico: The Poetics and Politics of the Fernandez-Figueroa style”, The Mexican Cinema Project, University of Texas.

Dey, Tom. (1992) “Gabriel Figueroa: Mexico’s Master Cinematographer”, vol. 73, issue 3.

Feder, Elena. (1996) “A Reckoning: Interview with Gabriel Figueroa”, Film Quarterly, vol. 49, no. 3.

Fein, Seth. “Transcultured Anticommunism: Cold War Hollywood in Post-War Mexico”

Hershfield, Joanne, (2006) “Screening the Nation” in Vaughn, Mary Kay and Stephen E. Lewis, eds., The Eagle and the Virgin. Nation and Cultural Revolution in Mexico, 1920-1940, Durham and London: Duke University Press.

Higgins, Ceri (2008) “Transiting the National” in special issue on Gabriel Figueroa , Luna Cornea 32.

Knights, Vanessa, (2003) “Modernity, Modernization and melodrama. The bolero in Mexico in the 1930s and 1940s,” in Hart, Stephen and Richard Young eds. Contemporary Latin American Cultural Studies, London: Arsenal Publishers.

Monsivais, Carlos. (1988) “Establishing Point of View” in The Art of Gabriel Figueroa, Artes De Mexico

Segre, Eric. (2000) “Visualizing Mexico: The Interplay of Mexican Graphic Arts in the 1930s and the 1940s”, Hispanic Research Journal, vol. 1, no. 1.

 

[1]Feder, Elena. (1996) “A Reckoning: Interview with Gabriel Figueroa”, Film Quarterly, vol. 49, no. 3, pg. 2.

 

[2]Knights, Vanessa, (2003) “Modernity, Modernization and melodrama. The bolero in Mexico in the 1930s and 1940s,” in Hart, Stephen and Richard Young eds. Contemporary Latin American Cultural Studies, London: Arsenal Publishers, pg. 127.

[3]Hershfield, Joanne, (2006) “Screening the Nation” in Vaughn, Mary Kay and Stephen E. Lewis, eds., The Eagle and the Virgin. Nation and Cultural Revolution in Mexico, 1920-1940, Durham and London: Duke University Press, pg. 260.

[4]Monsivais, Carlos. (1988) “Establishing Point of View” in The Art of Gabriel Figueroa, pg. 4.

[5]Higgins, Ceri (2008) “Transiting the National” in special issue on Gabriel Figueroa , Luna Cornea 3, 2pg. 595.

[6]Dey, Tom. (1992) “Gabriel Figueroa: Mexico’s Master Cinematographer”, pg. 35.

 

[7]Berg, Charles Ramirez. (1995) “The Cinematic Invention of Mexico: The Poetics and Politics of the Fernandez-Figueroa style”, The Mexican Cinema Project, University of Texas, pg. 16.

[8]Ibid, pg. 19.

[9]Monsivais, Carlos. (1988) “Establishing Point of View” in The Art of Gabriel Figueroa, pg. 4.

[10]Berg, Charles Ramirez. (1995) “The Cinematic Invention of Mexico: The Poetics and Politics of the Fernandez-Figueroa style”, The Mexican Cinema Project, University of Texas, pg. 18.

[11]Berg, Charles Ramirez. (1995) “The Cinematic Invention of Mexico: The Poetics and Politics of the Fernandez-Figueroa style”, The Mexican Cinema Project, University of Texas, pg. 19.

[12]Segre, Eric. (2000) “Visualizing Mexico: The Interplay of Mexican Graphic Arts in the 1930s and the 1940s”, Hispanic Research Journal, vol. 1, no. 1, pg. 89.

[13]Monsivais, Carlos. (1988) “Establishing Point of View” in The Art of Gabriel Figueroa, pg. 1.

[14]Higgins, Ceri (2008) “Transiting the National” in special issue on Gabriel Figueroa , Luna Cornea 32”, pg. 597.

[15]Feder, Elena. (1996) “A Reckoning: Interview with Gabriel Figueroa”, Film Quarterly, vol. 49, no. 3, pg. 11.

[16]Fein, Seth. “Transcultured Anticommunism: Cold War Hollywood in Post-War Mexico”, pg. 85.

[17]Monsivais, Carlos. (1988) “Establishing Point of View” in The Art of Gabriel Figueroa, pg. 5.

[18]Higgins, Ceri (2008) “Transiting the National” in special issue on Gabriel Figueroa , Luna Cornea 32, pg. 597.

[19]Feder, Elena. (1996) “A Reckoning: Interview with Gabriel Figueroa”, Film Quarterly, vol. 49, no. 3, pg. 10.