Laercio Redondo na Idea of Fractures - Opinione Latina 2 na Francesca Minini em Milão08 Mai 2014
Opening Thursday 8 May, 7 pm
Until 19 July 2014
Francesca Minini, Milan
Francesca Minini is glad to announce Idea of Fracture, second appointment with OPINIONE LATINA, a new stage of a journey dedicated to Latin America contemporary art.
The idea of a fracture, of a violence often invisible, which lies beneath the creation of utopian, spectacular and charming architecture, form! s in a certain sense is the core of the exhibition.
The suggestion Modernist architecture (also linked to the construction of Brasilia) is outstanding, traceable in works in which the formal beauty hides references to the violence of colonization.
The show opens with great mural painting by Laercio Redondo (part of the series Lembranças de Brasília, 2012), work that pays homage to Bulcão (Oscar Niemeyer’s collaborator on some of the most suggestive project of Brasilia) and to his method open and subject to life circumstance! s that are beyond one’s control and, in this sense, subt! ly anti- modernist: Bulcão used to invite the workers to express their own creativity, leaving them free to juxtapose the designs of the tiles how they saw fit. Felipe Mujica ‘s curtains define some fundamental parameters, formally ascribable to the modernist tradition, leaving a certain margin of freedom to the collaborators who produce them, by allowing them, for example, to choose the color of the fabrics. In the collages and in the sculptures by Elena Damiani, the purity of the forms appears as contaminated, almost repudiated by the surprisingly fluid juxtaposition of utterly distinct architecture and spaces and by the very widely differing materials such as glass and marble. Through the images Damiani moreover establishes, even if in a fragmentary and non-linear fashion, a narrative; a fantastical and complex universe in which we feel it would be possible to live, and, perhaps, in which someone does indeed live.
Despite not having a soundtrack, Foro (Armando Andrade Tudela, 2013) is intrinsically musical: the hands of the artist and of the architecture students who help him to build a plaster model of the Endless House developed by Friedrich Kiesler design an extremely melodic concert of forms and gestures. The sculptures of the series Lores (2014), produced by Andrade Tudela for this exhibition, use the same material and a principal which is in some way specular, pointing out, even in the achievement of the work, the fracture and the instability, as a metaphor of the story they tell about.
The ruthless suppression of workers’ strike during the construction of Brasília, and above all the manner in which this suppression is denied by Oscar Niemeyer and Lucio Costa in the interviews conducted by Clara Ianni in Free Form / Forma Livre, Parte I and II (2013), speak of precisely this “fracture” that has never-quite-healed on which the capital was built, and by metonymy the country and even the continent itself. An atavistic fracture, which can be traced all the way back to the founding trauma of colonization, and the way in which, in the following centuries, the sociopolitical arena has remained substantially the same. The war to which Ianni alludes in War II (2011-12) is only by appearances that of a board game: what makes these ruthless and totalitarian aims suddenly frightening and yet familiar, it not their insertion in a different context, but the manner in which, in this new context, they echo a tragic past, and perhaps an unobserved present.
Alejandro Cesarco’s Footnotes (2014) evoke, in a seemingly unintellectual context, parallel realities, the capacity of art and language to transform reality, revealing its fantastic side. In this sense, Cesarco’s notes in fact constitute the key to understanding all that can be (and is) said and denied, that language is an architecture of the word, which, by constructing various levels of interpretation, on one hand conceals, almost protectively, the state of things, and on the other allows it to be filtered. Analogously, the graphic alphabet invented by Mateo López to compose his poetry-sculptures, which allude to the great tradition of concrete poetry in Latin America, is not immediately comprehensible. The lithograph provides the key to interpreting the work: it is a sort of dictionary that should allow one to understand, but it is clear that it does not tell us everything, because that would be impossible. Some things, when one attempts to explain them, dissolve into thin air. And it is in this unsayable context, that Runo Lagomarsino has installed his wallpaper, transforming the exhibition space into a theatrical stage adorned with a sign that is apparently decorative, but which actually speaks, once again, of violence and colonization: the symbol used by the illiterate conquistador Francisco Pizarro. If, as suggested by the title of another work by Lagomarsino’s, Colombo’s enterprise might seem, at the beginning, like a joke (We All Laughed at Christopher Columbus, 2003), today nobody is laughing; Pizarro’s lopsided signature closes the circle opened by the cordial forms of Athos Bulcão, and reminds us that it remains, indelible and alert, underneath any new attempt to establish an authentically democratic process in Latin America.Notícia Anterior Próxima Notícia