deals with the corruption of the current government, flow of hardships, poverty and helplessness
deals with the corruption of the current government, flow of hardships, poverty and helplessness, the immanence of despair, and the invisible trauma of war.This has been the approach of the South African artist Pieter Clauss, who has been included in the show, along with Zwelethu Mkhwanga and Nkosalu Paladino, among the leading figures of the African diaspora in South Africa. He is a powerful presence. The two artists are mostly young and from the 20s and 30s, respectively, and were all born in the same year. Their work represents a significant departure in both style and approach. Clauss is influenced by the paintings of Jacques Herzog and the sculptures of Jean Tinga. The difference between them is vast and only superficial. Tinga is a figurative painter who loves the presence of his figures and the human presence in the world. Clauss is a sculptor who makes use of the materiality of stone and steel to make sculptures. These works have an elegant and forceful presence. They are not merely paintings. They are sculptures that are truly monumental and unpeopled. Clauss uses these sculptural elements to create a state of being, a sense of presence that is emotional, emotional not only in the way a painting is but also in the way the artist lives.Clauss work has been seen in several art shows in Europe. But in this exhibition it was presented in a relatively small space. To make it memorable, Clauss had to do with five thousand words, the same amount that Franz Kline would have had to deal with. The artists words were fragmented, the context of the words incomprehensible. This was the point, the artist thought, that the viewer would have to find out for himself. The viewer was to be asked to look and be asked to understand.Clauss work has always dealt with the human condition, and the exhibition was no exception.
deals with the corruption of the current government, flow of hardships, poverty and helplessness in the face of poverty, and the infatuation of the privileged with the money and power of the people. To be of this kind, one must understand the language of the reality in which the artist is present, which is that of the history of art, of the history of social organization, and of the historical relationship of the artist to the people, and to their political and economic reality. This is the language of the reality in which the artist is—to the extent that he is represented by the gallery—in dialogue with the artist and with the people. By taking this position, he is trying to provide a critique of the current situation in Argentina and of the art context in general, and of the problems that face artists as well as artists and their audience in a situation that is extremely complex. The artists at the gallery, in fact, are at odds with each other, at times even antagonizing one another.One could imagine that in the gallery the situation is far from simple: the works of art do not necessarily attract the audience; the viewer is always confronted with a long, narrow passage, which only becomes more narrow the closer one gets to the works. The artists, who tend to be unknown in Argentina, are always negotiating the limits of the work. Their works are usually not of a high level of quality, and even when they are, they are usually unsuccessful in reaching the audience. The gallery, however, is a refuge for the artist, who can step outside his isolation. The artist, after all, is a participant in the work, in a way that is not only an esthetic and social problem, but also a political one. At the gallery, he is not only an artist, but also a participant, the curator, and the public. The artist has no illusions, but rather a responsibility to take part in this dialogue.
, the artist now makes only, a little, sculptures, which, thanks to a painting of a wooden chair, are made in a similar way. In these, Márquez is less concerned with the details of the commercial art of the 50s and 60s than with the details of an object that is used as a vessel for the storage of an image. The work is a little like the interior of a theater, an empty, romantic, empty space. The figures, once again, are the same ones that are found in the wood-paneled, wall-like structure of the work. They are only temporary. This is a memory, a fragment of a memory, but it is a memory that can be called into being. The concrete image is there to be touched; the fragment is there to be evoked.
deals with the corruption of the current government, flow of hardships, poverty and helplessness. The birds in the opee, who sing in the deep blue of the sea, rise against a black background. A face in the white mask of a sad-eyed beggar is on the verge of a face in the black mask, of which a small, bald head and a pimpled nose emerge. A few feet away, another figure, again in black, but covered with a cloth, kneels in a square of sand, bare-limbed and dead, and holds a candle. Here a black-masked figure is nude, with the cloth over his head, standing as a statue in the foreground. Two small figures, one of them bare-chested, the other wearing only a bonnet and a long white coat, stand in a circle. A red hand reaches for a smelly glass of water; it is blown out of a hole cut in the mask and only a slim, smudged smudge remains. These figures are part of a group of eight. They are bare-chested, as if they were awaiting a bath, and they wear only jeans. They stand in a square of sand, covered in sand and sand and sand, as if they were waiting for something to fall down from above. They look like children, or perhaps the survivors of some kind of animal torture. These are not human faces, but faces in a black mask. This is the mask of the old, dead, and dying. But it is not only a mask, it is a mask, and the old, dead mask. The masks are a symbol of self-loathing, of the self-loathing of the old, dead, and dying, and they are in the process of being cut up and dismembered, and then brought together again, and again, and again. This is an old-master painting, in the classic sense of the term, but in it the artist creates a world of masks, and the masks are human beings.
. Most of the paintings are from the series The Angry Line, 2014–, in which the artists borrow a number of unsolicited images from art-world sources. But they are rarely simply reproductions of original photographs; they are staged drawings, in which the artists used the techniques of Photoshop and illustrator Nikos Veliadis to create digitally edited images that appear to be near abstract landscapes. But the images are not real landscapes, but generic still-life images of an industrial cityscape. The most striking painting was Triptych, 2014, which depicts the artists mock-ups of an urban street.The artists did not intend to make any such claims about their own work in the exhibition, but that was clear from the titles, which depicted the city as a giant sprawl of concrete, polluted and abandoned, in contrast to the modernist buildings in the background. As with all such works, the paintings were also part of a conceptual piece, manifesting a desire to infuse the realm of the fictive with a certain amount of actual human experience. A similar desire was evident in the authors self-portraits: The artist poses in the guise of the characters in various artworks—from Willy Wonka to Frank Lloyd Wrights Eero Saarinen. But in the most recent piece, for instance, the artist himself plays the role of the prime minister, having reenacted Saarinens famous self-portrait as an emperor in his palace, using the same techniques as in the exhibition.
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