notes on amilkar feria of the collective exhibition in gallery Habana.
As soon as I saw the title on the wall, a box went off in the memory saying: "I know it, I know it...". He just didn't remember exactly what he knew. Route 27 was on. I wouldn't have gone down for anything in the world, so the word kept spinning around in my head, like those records that ended up being interpreted, but then they stay there, spinning. At home that blinking continued, with vague intention of searching Wikipedia, but it wasn't until the next day that the box attached to the first one shot in my mind: it was a Spanish locality. When I went to the gallery a few days later, it was closed. A colleague suggested that when that happened, it should be in the background, which is always open. But when he came back for the second time, he didn't have to go in the back.
Face to face, always face to face, to see what relationship an Iberian village had with the artistic proposals of ten Cuban creators (Adriana Arronte, Ariamna Contino, Adislen Reyes, Dayana Trigo, Glenda León, Glenda Salazar, Lidzie Alvisa, Mabel Poblet, Plastic guajiras, Rachel Valdés). As soon as I entered, the first thing I did was ask about the "exhibition paper", the one that says something so that you don't go home with your appetite unnecessarily open. But there was no paper. Ariamna's work is about the millions of inhabitants who profess each of the great universal religions. On a pedestal, thick fragments of glass, all of the same nature, lie reorganized after some theological bankruptcy. "Ascension" is its title, that ticket that creeds give to go to the same place, after having broken the divine unity. With the works of Adislen ("Crater" and "Isla", from the series "Graft"), although it is remarkable that the factual solution is conceptually different, with a very different intention, it was impossible for me not to recall a series of works in which Tomás Sánchez established a figure-background relationship with elements of the landscape, in which he seemed to subtract fragments from one medium to be repositioned in another. Maybe it's an evening tribute to the Cuban landscape painter...
...In the end, "It's all in your head," as Glenda Leon says in her drawing of a mental storm. It is true that sometimes it is like going crazy; on one side, that diptych of Glenda Salazar, full of mental grids, full of calligraphies and indefinable signs, then crossed out and rewritten, are a clear indication that "being", in existential terms, is too extensive to fill out a form. Salazar called his work, "Sin duda", from the series "Pinturas en silencio" (Silent Paintings). In front of the vestiges of Mabel's performance-work, I stood for a few minutes. It was a para'o delibera'o, as if he were drawing attention with his intention, but no one came to turn on the monitor behind elastic cords, joined by a leather frame in the middle. The work is called "Resistance", which I did not do, for lack of time, to connect the device. Instead, a substantial exercise of imagination began to reproduce in my mind what might have happened during that performance - the things that go through your head!
Here, behind my back, were some sunflowers of Lidzie Alvisa, printed with digital techniques. They were two works: "Untitled", from the series "Girasoles de Van Gogh"; and a diptych, "Cuando las flores se hicieron tan fuertes, que soportaron el peso del búcaro", which does not seem to belong to the same series, according to the foot of the work, although there are also sunflowers. In his work, referents of art historiography, and contemporary techniques of discursar, are found to save what is medullary to the sensory essence of visuality. This is also corroborated by a large-format canvas by Rachel Valdés. His abstraction, with extensive brushstrokes, leaps another century with a technique that already exceeds half a millennium, to manifest itself through current codes. Adriana Arronte's work (four small-format works) was fresh in my memory, as she recently inaugurated an exhibition in Villa Manuela entitled: "State of Grace". The artist's small pieces, loaded with tiny metal figures, are each a small altarpiece full of signs, which are not discovered at first glance. We need to stop. Dayana Trigo's work seems to have a greater visual complexity than that shown by the staging of a small façade with a balcony (behind which there is a romantic story), imperceptibly suspended from the ceiling. In front of the façade, pointing directly towards it, there is a projection equipment that must contain the memories of what happened with the affair; but nobody came to turn on the equipment.
And the peninsular village, what the hell does that have to do with anything? As soon as I got home I did my Homework. I looked in the Wiki for the meaning of Amora, and discovered that, still being Iberian, the village was not Spanish, but Portuguese, which did not change things at all in relation to this sample. But in another sense it was: Amorá, Aramaic word, singular of Amoraim, "Those who say" or "Those who comment", Jewish sages who commented and transmitted the teachings of the Oral Torah... I do not believe that a religion so generically exclusive of women was a reason for choosing to orchestrate an exclusively feminine exhibition, unless it was by opposition..., I say. But here's more: Amora, The Enchantress, is a character from Marvel Comics, a Thor villain, created by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, in Journey Into Mystery No. 103 (April 1964). Unlike most of the characters related to Thor, it is not directly based on any deity of Scandinavian Mythology. Specialty: Arcane magic and knowledge, super-strength, teleportation, long life. Current affiliations: Asgardians. Previous affiliations: Amos del Mal...
... Before my brain is completely fractured, I would like someone to help me elucidate what the common thread of this interesting display of works is. You can do it this way, leaving your comment below, in the box.
Text and photos: Amilkar Feria Flores
Palatino Entropic Observatory / October 9, 2019, 11:35pm