Art Underground

There is no subway system in Montevideo, but in the center of the city, hidden below Plaza Fabini, there's an underground art gallery. Salon Municipal de Exposiciones known as SUBTE is a public venue with three exhibition spaces labelled according to size - XL, M and SX.  This place is one of the cultural hot spots in Montevideo, with an ongoing program of free art exhibitions, musical concerts,  lectures, drama and experimental performances.

 Descending the stairs that lead from the busy, sunlit plaza to a subterranean, cavernous space is like entering Alice in Wonderland's rabbit hole, a transition from reality to fantasy that's heightened by the make-believe world presented by artist Claudio Roncoli  in the exhibition "Black Life."  

Roncoli uses digital images printed on blackout fabric as the foundation for his works.  The photos are appropriated from corporate and institutional documents, advertising and vintage magazine covers.   The artist paints over the enlarged black and white photos, dripping vertical lines of bright colour which alter and screen the original.  Roncoli's intent is akin to a graffiti artist's; by applying a layer of paint he can disrupt an established order, while poking fun at it.  It's a naughty and daring approach.  See how a red dot turns a sensible schoolgirl into a silly clown? Look at the kid with the goofy crocodile mask!  Roncoli clearly enjoys mark-making as much as a youth with a spray can aimed at a blank wall.

"Sistemas" 2011, digital print, acrylic on blackout fabric, 200 x 400 cm

Detail, "Sistemas"

"No somos todos iguales", 2010, digital print, acrylic on blackout fabric, 200 x 300 cm

Detail, "No somos todos iguales"

"Algo Todo Nada" 2011, digital print, acrylic on blackout fabric, 200 x 300 cm

Detail "Algo Todo Nada"

Installation view at SUBTE

Education, consumerism, corporations, government and the media - all are subject to Roncoli's scrutiny and his wry, cutting sense of humour.  There are visual puns in the paintings that hint at an underlying clever irony: a pie in the face, (pie graphs replace portraits in "No somos todos iguales") eating your words (text fills the refrigerator in "Algo, Todo, Nada") seeing double (mirror images in "Sistemas".)

The fact that Claudio Roncoli grew up in a toy store seems perfectly fitting once you've become familiar with his aesthetic sensibility.  His parents owned a shop in Buenos Aires and took to the road with their children in a converted school bus to sell party souvenirs.  Play is an activity that the adult Roncoli hasn't outgrown, but that doesn't mean that his work is not taken seriously.    He is represented in Buenos Aires by Galeria Praxis , in San Francisco by Gallery 415 , in Miami by Zadok Gallery, and so on, around the globe. You can read more about the artist and his work here.

We leave SUBTE in a buoyant mood, join the crowd on Avenida 18 de Julio and walk down to Teatro Solis.  The Allegro Cafe is full of young children, parents and grandparents who have just emerged from a special winter holiday performance of the Comedie Nacional.  When our espresso and carrot cake arrive at the table, we are treated to some impromptu live entertainment.

Our conversation goes like this:
Clown 1: "You speak English!  Where are you from?"
Me: "I'm from Canada."
Clown 1: "We learned English at school."
Clown 2:  "The pencil is red."
Clown 1:  "The weather is cold."
Clown 2  "I like hamburgers!"
Me: "You'll do just fine when you visit my country.  That's all you need to know."

Sometimes art imitates life, sometimes life imitates art.  It's amazing when both combinations happen in the same day.

"Black Life" by Claudio Roncoli continues at SUBTE until the end of July.

Javier Bassi

The upstairs gallery at the Museo Nacional de Artes Visuales is as spacious as a ballroom, and its high-gloss hardwood floor seems to extend an invitation to dance. It might be fun, but waltzing would be inappropriate here, as  I am reminded by both the presence of a surly security guard and the imposing series of paintings by Javier Bassi - sombre, large, black rectangles that march along the walls like a funeral procession.  At first glance this looks like an exhibition of  formal, minimalist abstract canvases (i.e. serious stuff.)

Installation view of "In/visibilidad" exhibition

The labels reveal that Bassi's work is not pure abstraction, but a combination of collage and painting.  The artist uses black toner (the same carbon chemical used in photocopiers and printer cartridges) applied over a layer of classified ads that have been pasted to the canvas.  The off-white streaks that read as brush marks are actually areas where the underlying newsprint is exposed.

Detail, with classified ads barely visible under the toner

In some of the paintings Bassi allows his technique to be deciphered, revealing fragments of the printed page, while in other works, the toner completely covers  the ads.  The viewer has to question the presence and function of the submerged, invisible content.  What significance does a totally obscured image have?

Classified ads are published to meet the needs of those who wish to buy, sell, trade or hire.  "Want ads" they are called, and indeed the classified section manages to address just about every human desire: transportation, clothing, shelter, furniture, food, tools, collectibles, pets, education, employment, even personal relationships are offered.   The ads form an enticing grid of possibilities for gratification.

"Mi linea como trampa" 200 x 480 cm

I am a fan of haiku, and enjoy the sense of surprise and simple insights that these succinct verses offer.   I read the following haiku in The Heron's Nest magazine and said "Aha!" as the Bassi series came to mind.

migrating geese-

the things we thought we needed

darken the garage

- Chad Lee Robinson

"Ice Cream Memory" 100 x 130 cm

Bassi's paintings, like the dark, overloaded garage, represent weighty accumulations rather than voids. All the things listed in the ads are stored under layered shadows that effectively cancel any initial attraction.   Both visual artist and haiku poet are making statements that mock materialism and the human weakness for possessions.

   

Instead of being encumbered with a lot of things, wouldn't it be nice to be airborne, like the migrating birds?  And wouldn't it be nice to just go ahead and dance, when you have the urge?

"In/visibilidad" by Javier Bassi continues at the MNAV until July 10, 2011.  The exhibition catalogue, with images, artist's biography and curatorial essays, is available online.  

Saez and Sprezzatura

Carlos Federico Saez, "Retrato de Juan Carlos Munoz" 1899, oil on canvas

 The portrait shows a male figure seated in an armchair, relaxed, leaning back, totally at ease with himself and the world, but nevertheless alert, exuding the quiet confidence of a refined gentleman.  When I saw this painting the word "sprezzatura" came to mind.  It's an Italian term that I learned while studying Renaissance art history at university, one word in the argot of academics that I hadn't thought about for a long time.   First used by Baldassare Castiglione in the "Book of the Courtier" published in 1528, sprezzatura is defined by the author as "a certain nonchalance, so as to conceal all art and make whatever one does or says appear to be without effort and almost without any thought."

Detail of the subject

The studied carelessness of the sitter is matched by the artist's style in this work.  At close range, the brushwork is loose and uneven, and in some places, patches of canvas have been left blank. The back of the chair tends to dissolve into the scumbled background, while the two carved finials act as bold parentheses for the subject's head.  The off-centre composition allows blank space to surround the figure, an openness that breathes and glows, creating an aura of afternoon repose. The way the man's right hand has been merely suggested, rather than defined, demonstrates the bravura of an artist who is leaning towards abstraction.  A casual squiggly line along the armrest is enough; we can see a foreshortened hand that's moving ever so slightly.

Detail of the right hand

The portrait  was painted by Carlos Federico Saez, and is part of an exhibition celebrating the Bicentennial of Uruguay at Museo Nacional de Artes Visuales near Parque Rodo.   I had never seen work by Saez before, but the row of seven paintings on display at the gallery reveals a virtuoso; an artist capable of capturing character with graceful drawing and economical, painterly means. His approach to portraiture recalls canvases of the same era by John Singer Sargent, James McNeill Whistler, and Edgar Degas.

Carlos Federico Saez

The biography of Saez is as sketchy and loosely rendered as the artist's own drawings.  He was born in 1878 in Mercedes, Uruguay.  At the age of 14 he earned a scholarship to study art in Italy, under the direction of Daniel Munoz, a writer and politician employed as Uruguayan ambassador in Rome.  Saez stayed in Europe for seven years and worked with the Macchaioli painters, a group who practised plein air painting in the Tuscan countryside.   The end of his artistic career came too soon - in 1900 Saez became ill and returned to Uruguay.  He died in Montevideo in 1901, age 22,  with an oeuvre of 100 drawings and 70 canvases as his legacy.

To see more works by Carlos Federico Saez, visit this site.  

Installation,  Museo Nacional de Artes Visuales

Around Parque Rodo

The holiday season has been full of events and we've been busy enjoying the city's diverse offerings. Here's a sampling of some of the interesting things we've seen in our neighbourhood during the month of December.

Prior to Christmas, the Teatro Verano presented an evening of "Ballet under the Stars" featuring the Ballet Nacional Sodre directed by Julio Bocca.  The outdoor venue is a fully-equipped bandshell style stage with stadium seating carved into a hill in Parque Rodo.  The evening's program included Act II of Swan Lake, the Pas de Deux of the Black Swan, both beautifully performed with classical precision.  The breeze ruffled white feathers on the dancers' tutus as a storm blew over, but a minor rainshower did nothing to dampen the spirits of the audience.  I love the fact that this type of casual plein air venue and the reasonable ticket price (130 pesos) attract viewersto a performance that they might never take in at the more formal Teatro Solis or Sodre. The acceptable behaviour code is more relaxed for an audience seated in a large amphitheatre, a setting where it's perfectly okay to leave your seat to go and buy a Coke at the concession partway through the performance.  There were lots of families in attendance, teenagers, seniors and babies, too.  Everyone had a great time and by the end of the evening the sponsors had raised a considerable amount of money for a good cause, to benefit Montevideo's pediatric hospital Pereira Rossell.

Bird by Oiva Toikka

Another highlight of this star-studded season was an exhibition called "Northern Stars: 20th century Finnish Design" presented at the Museo Nacional de Artes Visuales located at the south end of the park at the corner of Av. Tomas Giribaldi.  This show, curated by the Museum of Design in Helsinki,  included stunning textiles, ceramics, glass and furniture, objects marked by the ultra-sleek styling, nature-inspired forms and bright colours of the Nordic aesthetic.  The installation featured large swaths of vivid Marimekko fabrics hung as room dividers in a stark white gallery, framing small groupings of exquisite clothing, chairs and kitchenware.  If you avoided looking out the windows at the palm trees in the park, you had the sensation of being in a Scandinavian interior.  I coveted the bird designed by Oiva Toikka, which cleverly suggested feathers by incorporating undulating veins of coloured glass.

Fabric design by Sanna Annukka 2008, Marimekko

Outside the hushed atmosphere of the art museum a bustling Christmas Market was going on in Parque Rodo, with stalls showcasing the work of Uruguayan artisans.  Jewellery, candles, silk scarves, fine wool sweaters, leather work and wooden objects were displayed and sold.  Often this type of show has low-level, homemade goods, but the quality of the work was excellent, as this craft fair was a juried show.

 I bought a beautiful Jugart wooden box for 360 pesos, secured with a  puzzle piece locking system in the shape of a bird.  This petite treasure chest has a pleasing smooth surface and exudes a sweet sandalwood fragrance when opened.

On Sunday afternoons during the summer months, Parque Rodo is a non-stop fiesta, throbbing with the resounding heartbeat of Montevideo - candombe drumming.  A form of music that originated in Africa, candombe was introduced by the black male population (read slaves) in Uruguay and appropriated by whites who made the art popular.  Read more about the history of drumming here. Today the troupes are mixed, with both black and white, male and female participants.  

The audience joins in as the hypnotic beat goes on for hours, alternating tempo and rhythm.  Women get up and dance a form of samba with fast, fancy footwork.  This is street ballet, with no strict rules or choreography, just a spontaneous celebration of joy.  As the sun goes down, the party continues....

A Tale of two Prisons

Montevideo is a city full of old architectural stock, ranging from fine, stylish examples that have been beautifully restored to decrepit uninhabited wrecks that have sadly deteriorated beyond repair.  There is a municipal Heritage Committee in place which works to preserve the best of Montevideo's historic buildings and oversees the restoration process as they are adapted for contemporary use.  Two penal institutions in Montevideo have been recycled to serve new audiences and facilitate different functions.

Punta Carretas, a former prison transformed into an upscale shopping mall

Carcel Miguelete, now Espacio de Arte Contemporaneo

Visting these former prisons in their current roles as commercial space (Punta Carretas) and public art gallery (Miguelete) raises questions about how much of a building's history can or should be eliminated in a rehabilitation program.  Does history deserve a memorial as the passage of time and changing community needs alter both the physical edifice and its function?

Punta Carretas Shopping is all glitz, chrome mirrors and natural light, a mall that's designed with shops on four levels of inviting vertical space.  There are high-end merchants here, offering diamond tennis bracelets, the latest Reezig running shoes, European cosmetics, Egyptian cotton sheets and deluxe stereo systems.  Once inside the former prison walls, the desire to buy is almost irresistible; it's the consumer who is held captive by slick merchandising, quota payment plans, seductive displays, contests and credit card discounts.  No visible chains, other than the chain stores that inhabit malls everywhere.  There are some guards, but they're friendly ones who will gladly direct you to the movie theatre, supermarket, food court or anywhere else you might want to go.

What is missing in this luxury shopping complex is the story of the place itself.  This is the site where Uruguay's notorious left-wing urban guerrillas, the Tupamaros made a daring escape in 1971 by digging a tunnel to freedom.  Many of those former inmates are still alive, most notably the current President of Uruguay, Jose Mujica.  Shouldn't their story which includes political protests, bank robberies, hostage taking, and murder be remembered as part of the city's history?  The average visitor, gliding up the escalator in the refurbished palace of consumerism, would not have a clue about what took place in Punta Carretas a mere 40 years ago.

The other ex-prison, Miguelete, has been converted into a public art gallery with much less intervention in terms of the layout and construction. The pentagon-shaped building is surrounded by an imposing seven metre high institutional wall.  Inside, the cells now serving as gallery spaces are essentially intact, complete with original doors, barred windows, security pass-throughs and heavy-duty locks.  There is a catwalk connecting both sides of the second storey, and the exercise yard is still dominated by guards' look-out towers.  Despite the modern facade and new interior lighting, this art gallery suffers from a heavy, constrictive atmosphere lingering from the building's past.  Though adequate for video installations in  small dark rooms, the facility lacks the wide open spaces required for display of large-scale works.   The repetitive rows of cell/galleries with only one entrance severely constrain the pattern of exhibit design.  The layout never allows a flow of visitors through the building, and the viewing experience is interrupted by the back and forth movement to and from a central hallway.   The exhibition I saw (Post-it City) read like a series of separate, disjointed words, rather than one coherent statement.  I came away with the uncomfortable feeling that the artworks themselves were incarcerated.

Somewhere between the surgical removal of history in a building and the strict preservation of it, there is the right balance that allows for a brand new contemporary use, while retaining respect for the past.