VICTOR OCHOA ARTIST AND ACTIVIST
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s we were sitting in Victor Ochoa’s studio garage in Golden Hill the other day, I realized that even though we’d been friends since the late 1970′vs, I didn’t know a whole lot about his earlier life before those heady days of the Seventies decade. I was wondering whether he remembered that I had helped arrange for him to be hired to paint murals at the Che Cafe up at UCSD – way back in in 1980 and 81. He did but he had a few different details. “This is my favorite garage,” Victor said, as we settled in for our talk. Surrounding us on three sides inside the garage were painting materials and large plastic bins holding more painting stuff stacked up on shelves, brushes, cans of paint piled on each other, cans of spray paint in a shallow closest. There was a gaspowered airbrush machine that looked like a cross between a lawn mower and a Mars Rover. In one corner, he had set up a type of shrine to his past, his family, his culture, with various memorabilia of his life. On another wall were posters of Pancho Villa and of more recent Chicano heroes, like Corky Gonzalez, and local activist Marco Anguiano. And along part of one of the walls were the books, the notebooks, the 3-ring binders, paper records, the manuscripts, the slides. We settled in a couple of chairs on the cement floor, a bright sunlight beaming in from the one door. Never shy or at a loss for words,
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Victor easily discussed his past – and described a couple incidents that changed his life. The world-renown muralist has over the years had exhibits in New York City, San Francisco, Mexico City, Tijuana, and also in Vancouver, Barcelona, Spain – and – he was most proud of this one – the Venice Bi-Annual exhibit. Victor currently teaches art to high school kids at the MAAC Community Charter School, part time. He’s worked there for eleven years. He’s also an art consultant with the Jacobs Foundation – he’s been with them also for 11 years. He moved into Southeast San Diego 17 years ago, he told me. And he began researching the neighborhood in preparation of “doing a cross-cultural thing in Southeast with the Market Creek Plaza.” He’s still organizing and teaching around art. Years ago, of course, – in the Seventies, Victor was instrumental in organizing local artists to begin painting the murals at Chicano Park. When I walked up to his studio, I noticed a placard on the side of his truck parked outside, that referred to the restoration project of the murals in Chicano Park. This makes sense, as Victor has most recently been involved with the Chicano Park Mural Restoration Project. There has been notable publicity about the restoration project in local news – and it’s very important work. The Project lasted 13 months and 23 murals were restored, he said. The team worked from noon to nightfall. And in fact, Victor even wrote the book – literally – ; he was the editor of a brand newly published instruction manual
on restoring murals in Chicano Park. “You know, Victor,” I said, “you can know someone for 30 years, and not know much or anything about their past.” We then launched into a back-and-forth over the next hour and a half, with me peppering him with questions about his earlier days and roots. Victor Orozco Ochoa was born 65 years ago in South Central LA. His father was also a Victor. His mother – who is 89 – is Luz Orozco. She stays with him off and on and also with his one sibling, a sister who lives in La Mesa. Victor’s got two kids himself – both grown. His 23 year-old son is another Victor, who lives with dad. He’s a DJ, plays guitar and keyboards, and is a top seller at T-Mobile. His daughter – Xochitl is 22, goes to school, and helps out taking care of grandma. I nudged the conversation back to LA. “We moved to East LA soon after I was born,” Victor told me. He rattled off a bunch of neighborhood names, Huntington Park, Bell Gardens, Monte Bello – neighborhoods in East LA.Then Victor recounted a life-changing event that occurred when he was 7 years old.“Immigration booted us out – back to Mexico,” he said. “Before being kicked out,” Victor noted, “”Operation Wetback’ was on and it was really rough.” I nodded, remembering studying about it years ago. “Operation Wetback” was a huge government campaign to remove Mexicans from the US. Victor said Victor remembers defending Pancho Villa in the Los Angeles schools, when teachers would talk about the history of Mexico – of course – from a