I am
more than thrilled to learn that my old friend, Fellow Worker,
and mentor Carlos Cortez will be honored Sunday, September 19 as
one of four inductees into the Chicago Hall of Literary Fame in a ceremony
at the Cit Lit Theater, 1020 West Bryn Mawr Avenue from 7
to 8:30 pm.
Carlos
might not we well known to the general public, but he is a revered
figure in the labor movement, especially with the Industrial
Workers of the World (IWW) and in the Latinx and Native
American arts communities. He was perhaps
best known for his lino and woodcut posters and illustrations.
For him art of all types was inseparable from social activism and
was meant to be easily accessible to ordinary people. He could have made a fortune and been
far more widely recognized as a fine artist if he sold his posters in signed
and numbered editions.
Instead, he printed them himself in unlimited numbers by silk
screening on what ever paper stock he could scrounge and were sold
for a few dollars or more likely given away.
In fact, if he discovered there was a commercial market for his prints
that were being re-sold by dealers and galleries, he would print
more just to keep the price down.
Much of his work has been archived, preserved, and displayed
and displayed at Chicago’s National Museum of Mexican Art, which he
helped nurture.
But
he is being recognized now as a writer.
He was also a roll-up-his-sleeves, plain spoken poet who published
three collections in his lifetime who shared his work at poetry
readings and slams around the city avoiding the establishment
to find venues where the excluded and outcast could be included. He performed his pieces at union
meetings and on picket lines, at rallies and benefits,
and for those who gathered in the informal salon he kept open in the former
Northwest Side neighborhood storefront where he made a home with his beloved
wife Marianna.
Most
of his work first saw print in the Industrial Worker with which
he was associated for more than 40 years.
Born
in Milwaukee on August 13, 1923 to a German Socialist mother and
a Mexican indio/mestizo IWW member Father. He was steeped from the beginning in working
class culture and revolutionary values. He took seriously the old Socialist
admonitions not to allow governments to divide workers and turn
them against each other in imperialist wars. During World War II he refused
induction into the Army and spent nearly three years in the Federal
Prison at Sandstone, Minnesota—ironically the same prison
where I was held for the same offense for draft resistance during the Vietnam
War. After the war he worked
in various factories.
In
the late 1950’s he decided to come down to Chicago to become more involved with
the IWW where there was both an active general membership branch and the
union’s General Headquarters. He
volunteered his time helping out at GHQ where Fred W. Thompson
then the Editor of the Industrial Worker began to use his
contributions of both illustrations and writings.
Soon
he was contributing several pieces each issue—articles, essays, folksy
polemics, and occasional verse. Short musings, observations, and yarns were
printed as a regular feature column The Left Side. Other pieces appeared signed as CAC,
C.C. Redcloud, Koyokuikatl, and his IWW membership card number
X321826.
When
he first came down he was still known as Karl Cortez as his mother
called him, but has he immersed himself in the city and connected to the
Mexican and Chicago communities, he became Carlos and adopted the
big hats, and flowing moustache and sometimes goatee which became his
trademark.
By
the late 60’s Carlos took over as editor of the paper and in 1970 I began my
regular contributions to its pages.
Later we reorganized the staff as collective and
eventually I assumed the editorship while Carlos continued his
contributions. When we lost office space
to do the layout and production, we did it at a table in Carlos and Marianna’s apartment. When that place was remodeled by their
landlord they stayed with me and then Secretary Treasurer Kathleen Taylor in our near-by fourth floor
walk-up apartment in the building dubbed Wobbly Towers for a few
months.
Meanwhile
Carlos and I both worked as custodians at Coyne American Institute,
a trade school on Fullerton Avenue. A few years later when I was homeless Carlos
returned the favor and I stayed with them for some time enjoying Marianna’s
strong espresso in the morning and hanging with Carlos over Wild Turkey in
the evenings in the large gallery-like front room that served as his workshop
and gathering spot. Almost any evening
was an education.
It is
really a tribute to the Industrial Worker as a working class
institution that Carlos is being honored for the work that largely first
appeared there.
During
those years Carlos became a founding member of the Movemento Aristico
Chicano (MARCH)—the first organization of Latino artists in
the city. With his close friend Carlos
Cumpián and others meeting in the comfortable front room, he built an
organization which mentored many young artists, spread “the culture”,
and helped foster the re-birth of the muralist movement in the
city. He also became an early supporter
of the Mexican Fine Arts Center now known as the National Museum of
Mexican Arts which became the repository of many of his works and has the
largest collection of his extensive production in the world. He was also active with the Chicago Mural
Group, Mexican Taller del Grabado (Mexican Graphic Workshop), Casa
de la Cultura Mestizarte, and the Native Men’s Song Circle, a Native
American group out of the American Indian Center. Through that association, he came to mentor
and encourage young Indian artists with the same passion he dedicated to the
Chicanos. In fact, there was no artist
or poet of any race who was not welcome in that home, as long as they were
ready and eager to serve the people’s needs and not “art for art’s sake,”
a notion he found repugnant and elitist.
A lifelong
bachelor, in the early 60’s a Greek friend told him that he should
meet his sister. The trouble was
that she was still in Greece. The two corresponded
through her brother for a while.
Carlos saved his money, quit his job, and crossed
the ocean as a passenger on a freighter. He met Marianna Drogitis, a lovely
young woman who was, however, by the standards of her culture, a spinster having
rejected several suitors.
The two fell in love despite not speaking a word of each
other’s language. They communicated
by gesture and the few words of German they had in common—she had
learned the language in occupied Greece where members of her family were
active in the Resistance. They
returned to the U.S. on another freighter, married, and settled into the happiest
marriage I have ever seen in a Chicago apartment in 1965.
When
I proposed to Kathy Brady-Larsen in the early 80’s, Carlos was
pleased to make a drawing of the two of us with her daughters
Carolynne and Heather for the invitations I designed. He and Marianna danced happily at our
wedding party at Lilly’s on Lincoln Avenue.
By
1981 Carlos’s heart forced him to retire from wage slavery. It gave him more time to dedicate to his artwork,
poetry and causes. Unfortunately, it
also put a strain on Marianna who took extra work to make up for the
lost income. Despite sometimes working
twelve hours at two jobs, she always had a smile for any of Carlos’s many
guests, and a pat on the cheek for the old man.
Carlos,
although best known as a graphic artist and for his work on the Industrial
Worker, was also a poet. He would do
occasional readings at an old haunt, the College of Complexes, in coffee
houses, at radical bookstores, and wherever his friends
gathered. He wrote three books of
poetry, including De Kansas a Califas & Back to Chicago,
published by March/Abrazo Press, and Crystal-Gazing the Amer Fluid
& Other Wobbly Poems, published by the old Socialist publisher Charles
H. Kerr & Company. Carlos was President
of the Kerr Board for 20 years, a title he detested. He also edited, wrote the introduction
to, or contributed to several other books.
Carlos
was devastated when his beloved Marianna died in 2001. I last saw him at her memorial.
His health
deteriorated rapidly after that, and he was often confined to a wheelchair. He continued to greet a steady parade of
visitors and admirers to his studio home and participated in the planning of
new exhibitions of his work, including one in Madrid sponsored by the anarcho-syndicalists
of the Confederacion National de Trabajo (CNT.) He suffered a massive heart attack and
was confined to his bed for the last 18 months of his life.
On
January 17, 2005 Carlos died, surrounded by friends and “listening to the music
of the Texas Tornados.”
His
long-time friend Carlos Cumpián will speak about him at the Hall of Fame
induction ceremony.
The Chicago
Hall of Literary Fame describes its mission thusly:
Chicago is not a
city that can be crisply explained, neatly categorized, or easily understood.
Yet through our
literature we strive to define our place in the world. Our literature speaks to
our city’s diversity, character and heart. In our literature can be found all
we love and hate, frozen snapshots of our vast terrain over the years,
commentary on our ever-changing culture. In our literature can be found who we
are and what we do and where we do it. The value and character of our city is
not only reflected in but shaped by our great books.
Our mission is to
honor and preserve Chicago’s great literary heritage.
Unlike
other cultural institutions the Hall of Fame does not just honor world
famous authors but takes pains to highlight authentic and diverse
voices.
Other
honorees this year include Black novelist Frank London Brown whose work
describing life in the Projects in the late 1950’s included novel Trumbull
Park and the short story McDougal. He was also a machinist, union organizer,
and was director of the Union Leadership Program at the University
of Chicago. He enjoyed some fame
as a jazz singer as appearing with Thelonius Monk. Brown died
young in 1962. Jeannette Howard Foster
was an educator, librarian, translator, poet, scholar,
and author of the first critical study of lesbian literature, Sex
Variant Women in Literature in 1956. She was also the first librarian of
Dr. Alfred Kinsey’s Institute for Sex Research, and she influenced
generations of librarians and gay lesbian literary figures. She died in 1981. Gene Wolf was a science fiction
and fantasy writer noted for his dense, allusive prose as
well as the strong influence of his Catholic faith. He has been called the
Melville of science fiction. Wolfe is best known for his Book of
the New Sun series—four volumes, 1980–1983—the first part of his Solar
Cycle He died in 2019.
Carlos
will be in good company.
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