2016, Polémica

 A história inovadora

´Transcrevo do Facebook (de 10 de Dez.) para não perder mais tempo. Com um ou outro acrescento pontual.

1- Já leram a promoção que um conhecido semanário (o Expresso) faz hoje de um des/conhecido historiador de arte (o BPA, catedrático)? É informação? É crítica? É recado? É bairrismo? É publicidade? É uma vergonha. Rais partam o semanário que desce, desce, desce... Fiquei espantado qd vi a revista de um amigo. Como não acreditei, vim a casa digitalizar para guardar as provas do delito (do Valdemar Cruz, um topa a tudo sem competência para se ocupar do tema, mesmo como jornalista generalista).

2- Devo dizer que comecei a ficar incomodado qd recebi um mail assim: "Conversa Pública e Lançamento do Livro
Com <...o autor> (Professor Catedrático na Faculdade de Belas Artes da Universidade do Porto) e João Ribas (Diretor Adjunto do Museu de Arte Contemporânea de Serralves)

Com esta obra luxuosa, repleta de belíssimas imagens (mais de 500), <o autor> apresenta-nos uma visão profundamente original e inovadora da História da Arte portuguesa no último século.
Rompendo com muitas das ideias cristalizadas no tempo sobre artistas inigualáveis como Amadeo de Souza-Cardoso, e revelando a genialidade de nomes quase esquecidos, o mais importante crítico de arte da atualidade oferece-nos uma panorâmica, excecionalmente rica e solidamente fundamentada, da receção nacional aos movimentos artísticos do século XX e dos seus protagonistas.
Esta será, daqui em diante, ‘a’ História da Arte portuguesa contemporânea, referência incontornável para artistas, colecionadores, estudantes e amantes de arte.

" 'É com este alfobre de ideias, de conhecimentos enciclopédicos, de finura de observação, de alta cultura não só artística como também filosófica e literária, através de uma escrita sempre elaborada e original, rica de semelhanças e diferenças, que o leitor fica – com as imagens ao lado – habilitado a escolher de entre o ‘museu imaginário’ concebido <pelo autor> as obras que mais gostaria de levar para casa a fim de as colocar no pequeno museu da sua imaginação.' - do prefácio de Manuel Villaverde. " [Mas foi mesmo o MVC que escreveu esta prosa digna de um qq serôdio académico? Não é o Manel que eu conheci.]

Enviado pelo autor do livro, este escrito promocional está também e ainda na Agenda de Serralves: http://www.serralves.pt/pt/actividades/historia-portuguesa-do-sec-xx-uma-historia-critica/ Já tinha esquecido a coisa qd sábado deparei com a Revista do Expresso. Anote-se para a História que alinham nas sessões, no Porto, o João Ribas, o António Guerreiro e o Manuel Villaverde Cabral, e em Lisboa Margarida Acciaiuoli, o mesmo Manel e o José Bragança de Miranda, numa "conversa aberta" moderada por Margarida Brito Alves e Filomena Serra.

3- Pergunta o escriba (V.C.) para entrar na matéria: "Pode um artista integrado na lógica fascista ser em simultâneo um modernista?" (e se dissermos que a "lógica fascista" é em si mesmo modernista? - o perguntador perderá o pé?)

"Há um modernismo fora de Lisboa, porque o regime proibia as manifestações modernistas. Sobretudo a partir de 1931, procura arregimentar os artistas." Vem entre aspas, deve ser do catedrático.
'O regime' já proibia antes de 1931? Já procurava arregimentar os artistas? Mas 'o regime' existia antes de 1931? Ferro antes de Ferro?

'O regime' fazia as suas Exposições de Arte Moderna, no SPN/SNI, por onde passavam os modernos / 'modernistas' existentes, contemporâneos mais ou menos coevos das modernidades moderadas dos anos 30 com curso dominante em todo o mundo, nessa década de reafirmações realistas em diferentes formações nacionais (ver "Années 30 en Europe - Le Temps Menaçant", MAM Ville de Paris 1997) e incluindo surrealistas como Pedro, Dacosta e Cândido (eram do "contramovimento" segundo MVCabral), e até futuros neo-realistas, mas diz-se que "proibia as manifestações modernistas" (as exposições, entenda-se).

"Não se pode dizer que aquele grupo dos neomodernistas lisboetas são pintores modernistas, porque vendiam todos para o regime". Temos aqui um 'must' entre as muitas pérolas. Eram modernos porque expunham no Salão de Arte Moderna e porque se contrapunham aos "botas de elástico" da SNBA (a Sociedade à antiga), como se devia saber, e também eram 'neomodernistas' mas não, nunca modernistas. Vá-se lá entender o que por aí se escreve, inovando, polemicando, contextualizando, e com muitas ilustrações para fazer um coffee table book a dar-se ares de hiustória crítica.
Estranho era o Botas ('o regime') ter comprado a todos - ele saberia? Assinava os cheques sem ver? O Ferro enganava-o? Temos por aí uma nova pista para abordar o fascismo nacional.

Os artistas que trabalharam para António Ferro "não são modernistas, e esta é a primeira grande dissensão relativamente ao critério de França". Etc, por aí fora, sem se perceber se o jornalista percebe o que escreve e o que cita.

Modernismo é uma palavra de uso difícil e variado, que quer dizer coisas diversas, episodicamente, em países e tempos diferentes. Modernista, em princípio, era alguém ou algum movimento que se reclamava como moderno, como do seu tempo, portanto inovador, em geral definindo-se numa "vanguarda", numa corrente, tendência ou estilo que se opunha a outros, anteriores ou diversos. Hoje já não há modernistas, o que torna mais complexo um uso útil do termo: ou é uma categoria precisa na história ou é uma sucessão ± vaga de movimentos e/ou vanguardas que têm só em comum o facto de se substituíram e/ou sobreporem desde meados do séc. XIX aos academismos e salonismos (aos gostos dos Salons) dominantes. Para muitos ficou entendido como modernismo a sua versão tardia e última, formalista à Greenberg. Mas modernismo pode ser também um não-conceito vazio, um saco de gatos, uma rasteira aos incautos, um factor de intermináveis confusões.

ADENDA

Recordo que, entre outros quiproquos, no Expresso e fora, escrevi em 1994 uma crítica sobre a 1ª versão desta mesma história nacional: EXPRESSO Actual, 12 Fevereiro, pp. 15 e 16, sob o delicado título "Borrar a pintura". O sr respondeu na edição de dia 26 (texto não transcrito no local abaixo referido) e eu respondi-lhe na mesma data ("Ponto final"): os interessados podem ler em http://alexandrepomar.typepad.com/alexandre_pomar/2010/01/pol%C3%A9mica-em-1994.html

 

2016, POSTWAR 1945-1965, Okwui Enwezor (Munique), Realisms (III)

 POSTWAR 1945-1965, Okwui Enwezor (Munique 2016)

Alice Neel, Beauford Delaney, Julio Pomar, etc

The United States had its own contingent of fellow travelers. As Alice Neel, considered by manv a pioneer of Socialist Realism in American painting, declared in 1951, "I am againest abstract and non-objective art because such art shows a hatred of human beings. East Harlem  is like a battlefield of humanism, and I am on the side of the people here, and they inspire my paintings." The dandyish pose struck by the young George Arce in his portrait by Neel is hit a thin vencer over the violent life of teenagers of color in Spanish Harlem.

Alice Neel, quoted in Andrew Hemingway, Artists on the Left: American Artists and the Communist Movement, 1926-1956 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), p. 248.

The long pictorial tradition of a victimized yet heroic peasantry continued to empower artists to voice a strong "j'accuse!" against regimes of political domination. The Portuguese artist Julio Pomar thus painted the monumental female rice-pickers in Etude para Ciclo do Arroz II (Study for Rice Cycle II, 1953; plate 183) under the dictatorship of António Salazar.

See, lúlio Pomar. Alexandre Pomar. and Natalía Vital. Júlio Pomar, Cataloque raisonné (Paris, Différence. 2001),

2016, Postwar, Realismos (II)

 

A arte no Pós-guerra, Munique, Haus der Kunst, 14 Outubro

Será uma das mais importantes exposições internacionais do ano: a mais ambiciosa revisão revisão alguma vez realizada das duas décadas que se seguem ao fim da 2ª Guerra.

Por razões várias, porque 1945-1965 é o meu tempo, por razões de ordem pessoal (e familiares), por tratar questões que tenho investigado e divulgado (os realismos do pós-guerra, os inícios da arte moderna africana, e em Moçambique em particular; a rede informal formada nos finais da década de 1950 / inícios de 1960' por Ulli Beier na Nigéria, Pancho Guedes em Moçambique, Frank McEwen na Rodésia do Sul e Julian Beinart da África do Sul; o 1º Congresso Internacional da Cultura Africana, ICAC, em 1962, Salisbury), interessa-me muito esta exposição que inaugura a 14 de Outubro em Munique, na Haus der Kunst.

O facto de ter colaborado na recolha de documentação sobre o neo-realismo português (também com apoio do Museu de Vila Franca de Xira) e sobre alguma África ignorada dos anos 50/60, justifica ainda uma maior curiosidade. <Mas a morte de Enwezor anulou os previstos Postcolonial e Postcomunist>

Resistência, 1947 e Estudo para o ciclo Arroz, 1953. Ao lado de Alice Neel, George Arce 1953,  e Beauford Delaney, Retrato de James Baldwin 1945, em cima John Biggers, The history of negro education 1955, na secção  Realisms

Fica adiante um dos textos que o museu de Munique produziu para divulgação:

Postwar: Art Between the Pacific and the Atlantic, 1945-1965

Curated by Okwui Enwezor, Katy Siegel, and Ulrich Wilmes

Narrative

Background

The terms “postwar,” “post-colonialism,” and “post-communism” describe the cultural, political, and historical conditions under which the world has developed since 1945. As individual subjects of artistic inquiry and cultural analysis, these concepts represent the three-part, long-term research and exhibition project developed by Haus der Kunst and its international institutional partners during the past eight years. The purpose of this project is to bring together leading and emerging scholars, historians, artists, curators, theorists, and students to examine the artistic forces and cultural legacies that have shaped the production of art across the world since 1945. The first part of the project concentrates on art of the postwar era in the two decades between 1945 and 1965.

“Postwar” describes the historical period following the end of World War II in 1945. These years delineate the decisive defeat of Germany in Europe and of Japan in Asia, marking a turning point in global history. The catastrophe and disarray brought about by the war — with whole cities and countries destroyed, tens of millions of people slaughtered, and a massive refugee crisis that impacted millions of stateless people — were cast against the backdrop of the first use of the atomic bomb and a confrontation with the full horror of the concentration camps. The moral and technological legacies of Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Auschwitz came to represent the crisis of humanism.

In the field of art, the postwar period marks a particular historical and cultural turning point, for it brought about the waning dominance of Western European art capitals and the rise of the international presence and hegemony of contemporary American art, popular culture, and mass media. This cultural shift, in fact, mirrored the shift in geopolitical power in which defeated Europe acquired and acquiesced to new patrons and protectors. In Europe, as the Cold War divided the continent into two separate spheres of influence — the Warsaw Pact countries of Eastern and Central Europe allied with the Soviet Union, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization countries of Western Europe allied with the United States — the state of the arts also revealed a distinct ideological fault line: between communism and capitalist democracy, socialism and liberal democracy.

Informing this simplifying binary, which obscured more complex motivations for artistic production, were the ideological and artistic rationale behind the terms “abstraction” and “socialist realism.” These terms became moral equivalents in the contest for a renewed vision of art after the war.

The same spheres of influence also divided two indomitable competitors in the Pacific: the United States and the Soviet Union. On a global scale, however, several factors complicated this binary — decolonization struggles, independence movements, and anti-colonial resistance in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East — even as the Cold War powers courted and sought control of the new nations. These increasingly independent actors suggested quite different orientations and alliances — including pan-Africanism and the Non-Aligned Movement — in the wake of imperialism and the end of the war. The question was asked everywhere: what would global modernity look like?

Taking these factors as starting points for a major art-historical inquiry, Haus der Kunst has conceived Postwar: Art Between the Pacific and the Atlantic, 1945-1965 as an in-depth, global study of the postwar period across the practices of painting, sculpture, installation, performance, cinema, and music. The exhibition will open at Haus der Kunst on October 14, 2016, and will subsequently travel.

With its global perspective, the exhibition shifts the focus away from the Western vantage point and redirects attention to the polyphonic and multifocal examination of art since 1945. Postwar: Art Between the Pacific and the Atlantic, 1945-1965 therefore seeks to understand the complex legacies of artistic practice and art-historical discourses that emerged globally from the devastation wrought by World War II. Through the vital relationship between art works and artists, produced and understood from the perspectives of international, regional, and local contexts, the exhibition traces artistic developments during the first two decades after the war by following the sweeping lines of the two oceans across Europe, Asia, the Pacific Rim, Africa, the Mediterranean, North America, and South America. Probing differing concepts of artistic modernity — such as abstraction, realism, figuration, and representation — the exhibition explores how individual receptions and formulations of modernism informed the variant manifestations of modern art. By following these divergent and convergent vectors of influence, the exhibition invites reflection on the development of art that straddles continents, political structures, economic patterns, and institutional frameworks.

If we are to refigure the cartographies of postwar modernism, what sort of methodologies might we deploy? To what extent did the political exert pressure on the aesthetic, or the cultural on the artistic? In turn, how did artists, critics, and intellectuals negotiate, resist, or even subvert political ideologies? How did artists reapply their practices and aesthetics in diverse political and cultural contexts, especially in response to hegemonic paradigms? Conversely, how did artistic and intellectual movements from the former colonial peripheries impact the terrains of modernism? How, then, did the circulation of art, objects, discourses, and ideas shape the global contours of postwar modernism? What, if any, were the connections between form and content in the postwar world?

The Exhibition

Postwar sits squarely in the tradition of such large, synthetic historical exhibitions as Westkunst that have looked at the social history of art across several geographic regions under the conditions engendered by World War II. Yet in another sense, the present exhibition is entirely unprecedented, in that it examines art of the postwar era from multiple perspectives — East and West, North and South, colonizer and colonized, Pacific and Atlantic — placing regional, national, transnational, and other interests and affinities in dynamic relation to each other. This critical overview also includes relations of conflict — as in the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union — and various liberation struggles, from Algeria anti-nuclear campaign to the civil includes relations of connection — by the “between” of the exhibition moving across national boundaries.

Finally, for the first time in the Postwar describes a truly global condition: the increasingly interlocked and interdependent nature of the world today as a single entity, as prompted by new political and technological realities. Organized in eight thematic sections, Postwar illuminates these epochal social, material, and epistemological shifts in their full scale and scope through major art works, ephemera, and documentation.

Sections
1. Aftermath: Zero Hour and the Atomic Era

The postwar era is introduced by the apocalyptic image of the atomic bomb — a new technology that ushered in an era of intertwined beginnings and endings, promise and betrayal. As contemporaneous images of the concentration camps put an end to European aspirations to moral universalism, the bomb and the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki signaled the end of Europe’s political power in the world and the opening of an era of American military dominance. This, in turn, prompted a new kind of war: the Cold War and the arms race. While announcing a period of occupation in Japan, the end of World War II also ushered in an era of struggles for liberation and independence in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and elsewhere. Ubiquitous both as an image of itself and in the threat it posed to the entire world, the iconography of the mushroom cloud helped to create a new consciousness of the globe as a single, interconnected entity, a new sense of scale emphasized by the space exploration program that would emerge from military technology, affording views of the Earth that reinforced this sense of global integrity and interconnection.

The American use of the bomb represented and enacted American military and economic dominance. American artists such as Norman Lewis, in Every Atom Glows: Electrons in Luminous Vibration (1951), were excited by the wondrous natural revelations and awed by the biblical scale of the bomb’s power, even as they were skeptical of the U.S. government’s apologetics for its use. The bomb was also, obviously, a Japanese story, told through photography (much of it suppressed, only to be released later) and by such artists as Iri and Toshi Maruki, who returned to Hiroshima just three days after the bombing and decided to begin an ambitious cycle of paintings — The Hiroshima Panels (1950-82) — that would describe the suffering they saw there. In the wake of futurism’s worship of technology, Italian artists were also keenly focused on the bomb. In 1952, Enrico Baj painted the Boom Manifesto, featuring a black mushroom-cloud-shaped head against an acid yellow background overlaid with anti-nuclear slogans and formulas: “The heads of men are charged with explosives/every atom is exploding.”

Photographs and films of ruined cities and of concentration camp survivors were released in the immediate postwar period. The shock of these images, and the full realization of the scale and depth of the horror of the camps, sparked many works, among them Joseph Beuys’s Monuments to the Stag (1949-58), Gerhard Richter’s Atlas (1962-present), and Wolf Vostell’s German View from the Black Room Cycle (1958-63).

2. Form Matters

Materialist abstraction is also accounted for in the exhibition, with work that was grouped under such labels as “art informel,” “abstract expressionism,” and “Gutai,” as well as work by artists who responded to the look of this work but found different and local meanings in the material and how they handled it. Critics at the time emphasized stylistic competition that has often devolved into national competition in historical accounts, pitting, for example, the French artist Nicolas de Stael against the American Franz Kline as a symptom of the official promotion of American values — individual freedom and democracy — as embodied in abstract painting.

Today it is easier to see the transnational character of many of these artistic strategies, and Postwar emphasizes the affinity of ideas and materials among artists who emigrated to the U.S. from Europe. It also documents the encounters of artists from around the world who gathered in such metropolitan centers as Paris, London, and Mexico City; and reviews the proximity and circulation of art works in international exhibitions and small press publications. Yoshihiro Jiro in Japan, Jean Dubuffet in France, and Avinash Chandra in India, for example, shared a belief in art that is organic, materialist, and vitalist. Others sought to push gestural painting into full-body, performative experiments, including Carolee Schneemann, Hermann Nitsch, Niki de Saint Phalle, Tetsumi Kudo, and Kazuo Shiraga.

This materialist art is typical of the postwar period in its difference from earlier European iterations of modernism, often rejecting geometry in a critique of rationality and science, which were seen as dead-ending in the war and the bomb. Instead, artists favored gesture, raw materials, chance, and physical laws; surfaces are tactile, rough, and uneven. Many artists, including Alberto Burri, Jiří Kolář, Antoni Tàpies, Mohan Samant, John Latham, and Ivo Gattin went further still, to invoke the entropy of matter and, more specifically, the outright destruction related to the traumatic events and lingering ruins of the postwar landscape.

3. New Images of Man

Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Auschwitz laid bare the failures of Western civilization. In the wake of these shocks came ambivalent political attempts to establish geopolitical systems that would be more just, through such new legal forms as the United Nations and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights — putatively global but in fact dominated by Western authority — and the struggles for full citizenship and autonomy of people in former European colonies. Philosophers and artists sought to inquire more deeply into human nature itself, in debates that included the discourses of négritude and existentialism, and the rights of individuals and groups within larger (often oppressive) social and political entities. “New Images” features pictorial versions of such inquiries, in which humans often appear battered, deformed by the horror of modern life, rent by the question of their own value.

These artists often deliberately combined figuration and materialist facture, refusing the choice between abstraction and representation — or between physical and social life, seeing the binary as not only ideologically false but also deeply destructive. In 1950, at a postwar art conference in Darmstadt, Germany, political opposites Hans Sedlmayr and Theodor Adorno found surprising common ground in bemoaning the missing center of contemporary culture: contemporary art seemed unable to appeal to fundamental human concerns, including emotion and everyday life. This concern was echoed by such East German migrants as Georg Baselitz, who eschewed the politically charged choice between abstraction and socialist realism to render individual figures that were severely deformed but vigorously alive. MoMA’s New Images of Man exhibition (1959) gathered examples of contemporary art from twenty-three American and European artists, including Francis Bacon, Willem de Kooning, Albert Giacometti, and Jackson Pollock. In his introduction to the catalogue, theologian Paul Tillich warned of “the danger in which modern man lives: the danger of losing his humanity,” a danger located both in totalitarianism and in technologically-oriented mass society.

The most significant counterforce to universalist Western humanism came, in different veins, from former European colonies. Leopold Senghor wrote in 1961 of the need to particularize and locate the human being, in contrast not only to modernist (Western) universalism but also to Marxist universalism: “Man is not without a homeland. He is not a man without color or history or country or civilization. He is West African man, our neighbor, precisely determined by his time and his place ... a man humiliated for centuries less perhaps in his hunger and his nakedness than in his color and civilization, in his dignity as an incarnate man.” The laborers painted by Inji Efflatoun, for example, express this specific dignity.

Sometimes, as with Franz Fanon's “new man,” the formerly colonized claimed a moral right to define humanism broadly and universally, a right abrogated by the West with its inhuman behavior in war and colonization. We see this new humanism in the thinkers depicted by Indian artist Francis Newton Souza — colored bodies appropriating the traditional intellectual and ethical prerogative of Western man. South African artist Ernest Mancoba offered yet another restatement of universalist humanism. For him, differences in identity categories belonged to colonialism and underlie the fracturing of art: “In no domain more than in the arts has this systematic dichotomy caused such destruction of the very foundation to the human identity, as both belonging to nature and sharing in the essence of an ideal being.”

4. Realisms

The other half of the Cold War binary is, of course, the socialist realism of Soviet, Chinese, and Eastern and Central Europe. Here, to a greater extent, institutional appropriation came before, not after, artistic production. Nevertheless, accounts of this category, too, can be overly fixed. Even in the heyday of its enforcement, socialist realism was not a single style. Under Mao Zedong, Chinese artists produced large official portraits of the Chairman (Jia Youfu, Marching Across the Snow-covered Mount Minshan, 1965) and scenes depicting model workers, but there was also tolerance of traditional ink painting, with the addition of appropriate symbols of the new order, such as the red flag. In the Soviet Union, art from the 1940s to Josef Stalin’s death in 1953 is primarily characterized by affirmative images of work, especially by heroic images of party leaders (Wassilij Jakowlew, Portrait of Georgii Zhukov, Marshal of the Soviet Union, 1946). During the post-Stalinist thaw, genre painting influenced by the nineteenth-century Russian Wanderers became more prominent, as well as the “severe style,” influenced by Soviet art of the 1920s and early 1930s. Outside of the Soviet Union, because there was considerably more latitude for artists working with official socialist representation, such painters as the Czechoslovakian- born Willi Sitte made works that, while depicting officially sanctioned subjects, introduced personal drawing styles. Along with some works of moderate size intended for museums, this section emphasizes enormous public works, popular prints, and documentation.

“Realisms” also includes the influential Mexican muralist painter David Siquieros; ideologically programmatic art by such U.S. artists as Norman Rockwell, who was associated with realist rendering and popular audiences; and Communist Party artists working outside Communist-run countries, including Renato Guttuso and Boris Taslitzky.

5. Concrete Visions

While the international abstract style that dominated the postwar world was primarily materialist and gestural, prewar geometric abstraction did persist, albeit with an impetus quite distinct from that of European prewar artists. Concrete art in South America united the vitalism of Joaquín Torres García with European modernism and became an entirely independent phenomenon. Modernist forms were adopted early on in parallel to a nationalist developmentalism that did not simply stand against Western capitalism but figured in competition with it. “Concrete” art in Latin America — by the Madí group, for example, and such artists as Waldemar Cordeiro — was followed quickly by apparently very similar forms made by such neo-concrete artists as Lygia Clark and Helio Oiticica, which nonetheless were quite different in spirit. As Clark said, “We use the term "neo-concrete" to differentiate ourselves from those committed to non-figurative "geometric" art and particularly the kind of concrete art that is influenced by a dangerously acute rationalism ... none of which offers a rationale for the expressive potential we feel art contains.” Instead, neo- concrete art was imbued with an antirational vitalism, made socially specific, physically participatory, and psychologically liberating. In this sense, neo-concrete art rhymes with the non- programmatic, everyday formalism of an artist like Ellsworth Kelly,whose “geometric” art eschewed the rationalism — and still more broadly — the authority and dogmatism of earlier avant-garde movements.

6. Cosmopolitan Modernisms

Part of the alluring romance of modern culture has been the extent to which concepts of cosmopolitanism are often seen from a more elevated realm, as the condition, par excellence, of sophistication, worldliness, openness, and the comingling of cultures, ideas, and populations. But the loss of place for artists who migrate from one culture or national frontier to another casts a deep shadow on the romantic idealism of such worldliness.

Following the massive upheavals resulting from World War II, the terms of cosmopolitanism shifted radically. People were on the move. Massive populations — efugees, stateless people, and diasporas — were moving between continents, countries, and cities, forming dispersed lines of displacement, migration, exile, affinities, and settlements. In his essay “Reflections on Exile,” Edward Said touches on the dilemma of the exile, observing that “Exile is strangely compelling to think about but terrible to experience.” This is a valuable insight into how we might explore not only ideas of cosmopolitanism but also other conditions of being out of place.

For example, the hostile politics and constrained opportunities at home had pushed African American writers and artists like James Baldwin and Beauford Delaney to emigrate to Paris as a place of cosmopolitan refuge. So when we think of cosmopolitanism we should also imagine it within processes of change, upheaval, opportunity, fantasy, and as a form of cross-cultural and transnational artistic self-fashioning.

“New hybridities,” as scholars put it, have emerged in modernism and contemporary art when citizens of colonies and former colonies studied formally and informally in the West, or when refugees fleeing oppression and racism left their homelands to find safe places elsewhere. World War II was perhaps responsible for one of the largest and most extensive cultural and artistic migrations. The same is true of empire, with its discourse of la mission civilisatrice. Thus we can think of postwar art in recombinant terms, as a process of both acculturation and deculturation, whereby artists who combined international-style abstraction with indigenous, traditional, or local imagery fused new aesthetic logics and formal concepts. Particularly widespread was a kind of gestural mark-making (“calligraphic abstraction,” in Iftikhar Dadi’s term) that was as much iconic as it was indexical. That mark-making invoked identity and levels of meaning through allusion to language and legibility, challenging the universality of the modern. The Arabic calligraphic line was central to such artists as Sadequain and Anwar Shemza, who set the sinuous line of Arabic script in explicit relation to the geometry of the Roman alphabet. Categories including the local, tradition, nationality, autonomy, and universal conflict and combine to make new meanings.

Related situations of diaspora and the various colonial legacies, as well as Cold War funding for exchange, sent artists all over the world to study and participate in centers for the production and marketing of modern art.

Furthermore, magazines provided artists with an important source of virtual travel and intersection. As a result of exposure to publications such as Black Orpheus and Middle Eastern art, the work of Ibrahim El-Salahi and others reflects a pronounced set of pan-African and pan-Arabic references (African sculpture, Arabic calligraphy) informed by Western modernism. El-Salahi’s cosmopolitanism evidences time spent in London, but also reflects his relations with African American artists and musicians, travel to Mexico and China, and exhibitions in Nigeria and Senegal. His is a cosmopolitanism not primarily oriented towards the West.

When we consider cosmopolitan modernism, we should think not only of diasporas and exile but also of deliberately chosen affinities. How might our picture of cosmopolitanism change when oriented not toward the lingering end of colonial relations but in dialectical relation to nationalism? A reversal of this dialectic might be seen in extended visits by Jacob Lawrence to Nigeria, under the auspices of the Harmon Foundation. Or in Mark Tobey’s travel to Japan, which inspired him to create calligraphic marks with no semantic meaning, but as a connotative reference to “other” languages and lives.

7. Nations Seeking Form

“Nationalism” is a word that has been in constant motion during the postwar period. In this sense the concept of nation, like nationalism, has generated considerable reflection through which to understand particular formations of cultural and social identity and the political communities in which they are founded. Benedict Anderson has used the notion of “imagined communities” to describe the shifting currents of ideas of the nation and nationalism. In his groundbreaking study on these two concepts, he offers a crucial insight when he asks us to consider “the political power of nationalisms versus their philosophical poverty and even incoherence.” Given the unhealthy history of nationalism in the twentieth century — especially its misuse and abuse in places like Germany and Japan during World War II — it is all the more necessary to carefully consider the figure of the nation in the context of this exhibition section, “Nations Seeking Form.”

Artists in the U.S. and Europe often declined to align themselves with their national governments, which had proven corrupt and militaristic. Nationalism had a different valence for artists in countries that had newly struggled for and won independence, such as Iraq, Cuba, China, India and Pakistan, Israel, Indonesia, Thailand, the Philippines, Nigeria, Senegal, and South Africa. For this reason, those artists sought cultural forms to articulate and represent new national identities.

Nigerian artists, for example, played institutional and governmental roles, through personal commitment to national independence and the role of culture in establishing identity. Ben Enwonwu and Uzo Egonu represented African masks and instruments in what appears to be a critique of the European appropriation of such imagery. In Egypt, Gazbia Sirry depicted the martyrdom of Egyptians at the hands of the British occupiers, thereby also linking the Egyptian condition to the oppression of African Americans (whose movement for civil rights, informing the work of Jack Whitten and others, could take on a nationalist coloration).

The struggle to define what was truly national in identity, for example, in the debate between those who advocated discarding cultural tradition in the effort to become both independent and modern, and those who saw indigenous identity as central to their new national identity. In Southeast Asia, the choice would be described as one of East versus West, with “the West” representing Europe, the future, education, and technological progress; and “the East” representing indigenous knowledge, non-Western identity, the past, and tradition. While India’s nationalist movement fought against Western colonialism, many Indians saw the same West as the future. How, then, to support locally distinctive cultural self-confidence? Artists in the Progressives group that flourished in the years after Indian independence in 1947 found different solutions: Francis Souza, who depicted the biblical figures in his works as dark-skinned, even entirely black, achieved success among British critics, who compared his work to that of Francis Bacon. Maqbool Fidal Husain, in contrast, stayed in India as his peers left: “They said you can’t grow as an artist in India, and that I should join them, but luckily I was married, so I think for that reason I couldn’t go! My main concern was Indian culture, so I took that route.” Husain’s work celebrated Hindu deities, albeit in their visual rather than religious aspects.

8. Networks, Media & Communication

At its conclusion, Postwar shifts the understanding of art engaged with mass culture away from the usual focus on consumer goods and the signs, symbols, and logos that advertised them, and instead toward the circulation, distribution, and communication of those signs via technology and broadcast networks. Certainly some artists focused on the power of representation. By means of narrative figuration, artist Hervé Telemaque’s My Darling Clementine (1963) scrutinizes widespread racial stereotypes. Politically oriented critiques more often emphasized a newer capitalism, the cocacolonization that was now not only American- dominated but blatantly global in extent, as in Jirō Takamatsu’s Strings in Bottles (1963) and León Ferrari’s The Western-Christian Civilization (1965). Underlying this extension was the global distribution and circulation of information, invoked in the work of Derek Boshier, Thadeusz Kantor, and Gerhard Rühm that took the airmail letter as its subject.

Communication also underlay the systems theories of cybernetics that appealed to an international array of artists rooted in a variety of aesthetic and political orientations. It had particular appeal for artists seeking affinities across national boundaries: the New Tendencies exhibition featured works by twenty-nine artists from Argentina, Austria, Brazil, France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, and Yugoslavia. This new optical and kinetic art, like that of Mohammed Melehi, sought to transmit information on a fundamental, physiological wavelength transcending the cultural specifics of language. Similarly, communication drew artists to new technologies. The British artists in the Independent Group, particularly John McHale, were oriented toward popular culture’s technological, even futuristic aspects, from transistors to robots. Fluxus and other artists — including Lucio Fontana, Otto Götz, and Nam June Paik — experimented with the new medium of broadcast television, aspiring to make art that not only took part in the latest electronic technologies, but could also communicate to an audience beyond the art galleries themselves. All these artists sought an art adequate to a world conceived as a single integrated system or organism: in this way, the paradigm that dawned in the present exhibition’s introduction becomes conscious and fully developed in its conclusion.

There is today a clear connection between the systems theories of such figures as György Kepes, Norbert Weiner, and Marshall McLuhan, and the vision of an interconnected world, one in which relations of information and capital supersede national identities. The concluding section of Postwar, with its focus on communication and circulation, conflict and control, serves as a bookend to the show’s beginning with the technical invention, epistemological shift, and political reordering emblematized by the atomic bomb. Theories of feedback and communication that emerged from the science of the atomic bomb drove the restructuring of cities around the world, as did the wars in Indochina. And so the end of Postwar looks both backward and forward, to the next episode in this ambitious cycle of exhibitions: Post-colonialism.

 

2016, Postwar, 1945-65, Orkwui Enwezor, em Munique (I)

Post war 1 - depois da bomba

1 Hanna Arendt, "Zur Person" Full Interview. In German with English subtitles.

https://youtu.be/dsoImQfVsO4

À entrada da exposição, com o som a ocupar a 1ª sala

2 Em frente a... 

Wostell, Appel, Louis, Stella e Beuys

Joseph Beuys, Monuments to the Stag (?), 1958/82

#

3 Francis Bacon (Fragment of a Crucifixion, 1950) & Andrzej Wróblewski (1927-1957, Lituânia-Polónia)

 4  Andrzej Wróblewski

1949 Liquidation of the Ghetto / Blue Chauffeur (frente e verso)

1949, Executed Man, Execution with a Gestapo Man.

#

5  Appel, Louis, Stella

6 Gerhard Richter, ...

SECÇÃO 1

Secção 1 / 2

 

Isamu Noguchi 1946, Richter 1963 (Bombers), Baj, Movimento Arte Nucleare 1951, David Smith 1949 / Joan Mitchell 1961 (Coll. Berardo)

Secção 1 sala 2

Henri Moore 1964-65, Jess 1962, Paolozzi 1956, Appel

 

 Tenho sérias dúvidas sobre a colocação da bomba atómica como tema e imagem iniciais da exposição Postwar. Eficaz em termos retóricos, mas talvez seja mais uma perspectiva anacrónica, uma leitura posterior aos factos. A memória directa da guerra, das destruições, bombardeamentos e campos, das mortes e das lutas de resistência parece-me dominar a criação artística internacional nos anos imediatos a 1945, em direcções opostas de dissolução da forma, destruição da figura, ou de construção figurativa, narrativa, utópica. Será no contexto da Guerra Fria que o perigo nuclear ganha consistência, como iminência de um novo conflito bélico e como referência mais assustadora.

Se o cogumelo de Henry Mooore é já de 1964-65, as obras vindas dos anos 40 respondem aos anos da guerra em geral, ou em contextos geográficos precisos, e não à "hora zero e a era atómica". O modo como a arte informal e o expressionismo abstracto mais as geometrias e concretismos se afirmam nos anos 40/50, podem corresponder a uma reconstrução de vanguardas divergentes que vai retomar dinâmicas muito anteriores à guerra e aos anos 3o de ameaças fascistas, ao mesmo tempo que reage a uma dinâmica do pós-guerra que a exposição não ilustra: a redescoberta e exaltação dos mestres modernos, após as condenações e ocultações nazis.

Os grandes mestres ocupam o espaço público internacional, em especial em França, enquanto a restante Europa está em ruinas e em reconstrução, e as posições críticas radicais e vanguardistas são minoritárias e marginais.

Os anos a partir de 47 são já da guerra fria, que impõe a sua lógica ao confronto entre figuração realista (associada ao nazismo e ao estalinismo, e aos movimentos antifascistas dos anos 30/40) e abstraccionismo, ao qual se associa a expressão da recusa dos totalitarismos e um entendimento finalista da arte moderna - o fim da figura e da narração-ilustração.

Embora a exp. tenha construído com a "Hora Zero" um início atraente e inovador, a realidade parece ser outra.

 

Jorge Calado: escolhas para o Dubai; Dubai Photo Exhibition 2016

 Dubai Photo Exhibition will bring together artworks from 23 countries, selected by 18 curators, celebrating the harmony and diversity of global photography on an unprecedented scale. Guided by the curatorial vision of Head Curator Zelda Cheatle and other world-renowned curators, visitors will experience the evolution of photography through a selection of artworks from the 20th and 21st century.

The exhibition will be presented in a purpose-built “temporary museum” in Dubai Design District (d3), Dubai’s centre for art and design industries. Dubai Photo Exhibition is created by HIPA to promote Dubai as a cultural hub, cultivate artistic appreciation for photography, foster dialogue, and nurture photographic excellence through education. 

Countries and curators:
Australia—Alasdair Foster
Belgium and Holland—Els Barents
Brazil—Iata Cannabrava
China—Huang Yihuang 
Morocco & Egypt—Hicham Khalidi (Morocco) and Ayman Lotfy (Egypt)
France—Fannie Escoulen
Germany—Frank Wagner
Hungary and Czech Republic—Kincses Karoly
India—Devika Singh
Japan—Mariko Takeuchi
Korea—Sunhee Kim
Mexico—Magnolia de la Garza 
South Africa—Federica Angelucci
Spain and Portugal—Dr. Jorge Calado
UAE—Jassim Al Awadhi
UK and Ireland—Martin Barnes
USA and Canada—Natasha Egan

Portugal

Edgar Martins

Martins was born in 1977 in Évora, Portugal, grew up in Macao and moved to the UK in 1996. He studied photography at The University of the Arts, London; and Royal College of Art. His first book, Black Holes and Other Inconsistencies, was awarded the Thames & Hudson and RCA Society Book Art Prize; a selection of images from this book won him The Jerwood Photography Award in 2003.
His work centres on a man-made, technological world and its influence on society and nature. He has been exhibited widely and his series The Diminishing Present was seen at The Empty Quarter, Dubai, in 2009. He is represented in several high-profile collections and is the recipient of many awards He was also selected to represent Macao, China, at the 54th Venice Biennale, 2011.
His first retrospective was held at Centre Culturel Calouste Gulbenkian in Paris, 2010. His project The Poetic Impossibility to Manage the Infinite, developed in partnership with European Space Agency (ESA), was launched at Centro de Arte Moderna/Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation in Lisbon, 2014. He lives and works in the UK.

Gérard Castello-Lopes

Born in Vichy, France in 1925, Gérard is the son of a Portuguese father and a French mother. A famous sportsman in his youth, Castello-Lopes became a businessman in the film industry and is self-taught in photography.
He has a degree in Economics and Financial Sciences from the Technical University of Lisbon. From 1956 onwards he concentrated on photography and is now seen as the leading figure of the golden age of Portuguese photography of the 1950s. A follower of Henri Cartier-Bresson, he focused his camera on children and the elderly. In the late 1960s he gave up photography, only to resume it in 1982 when he had his first solo exhibition at the Ether Gallery, Lisbon. His main concerns as a photographer were the 'paradox of appearances', the nature and properties of space and the importance of scale.
He was a founding member of Hot Clube (Jazz) of Portugal and of the Portuguese Centre of Cinema. As a lecturer and essayist he collaborated with many institutions in Portugal and abroad. Several of his photos were used to illustrate book covers across Europe from 1996-2008.

Helena Almeida

Born in Lisbon, Portugal, in 1934, Helena Almeida’s father, Leopoldo de Almeida, was a renowned sculptor. She studied painting at the School of Fine Arts, Lisbon, and obtained a grant to work in Paris, where she came across Lucio Fontana's slashed paintings (the mystery of what is beyond the canvas) in 1964. Almeida had her first solo show of tridimensional paintings at Buchholz Gallery, Lisbon, 1967. Photography became a central element to her work in the 1970s. She began using her own body (self-representation) to explore space in 1969. Photography, painting, drawing and performance come together in her work. Her husband, architect Artur Rosa, is often a collaborator. She represented Portugal at the São Paulo (1979), Venice (1982, 2005) and Sydney (2004) Biennales. She had a retrospective at Serralves Museum of Contemporary Art, Oporto, 2015, which travels to Paris and Brussels, 2016. Almeida lives and works in Lisbon.

Jose Luis Neto

Born in Sátão, Portugal in 1966, Jose Luis Neto studied photography and its conservation at Ar.Co (Centre for Art and Visual Communication), Lisbon, and did a project at the Royal College of Art, London. He obtained an MA in Photographic Studies at IADE/Creative University in Lisbon, 2015. He had his first solo exhibition at Gymnásio Gallery, Lisbon, 1993 and was selected as part of the Portuguese representation at the 8th Biennale of Young European and Mediterranean Artists, Torino, Italy, 1997.
His on-going interests include the language, character and limits of photography, as well as the investigation of the photographic matrix and the various processes and devices of capturing light.
His work has been shown regularly at international art fairs and at exhibitions in Brazil, Spain, France, Italy, Slovakia, Finland, Germany and Switzerland.
His work is included in many private and public collections, namely: Centro Português de Fotografia and Serralves Museum of Contemporary Art, Oporto; Berardo Collection, BESart, CAMJAP – Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian; Fundació Foto Colectania, Barcelona; Folkwang Museum, Essen; amongst others. Neto lives and works in Lisbon.

Joshua Benoliel

Born in Lisbon, Portugal, in 1873, Joshua Benoliel became a member of Ginásio Clube Português in 1892. He co-founded the newspaper O Sport in 1894 and, as an amateur photographer, saw his first pictures published and participated in his first group exhibition alongside King Charles I, 1898.
He covered the state visits to Portugal of King Edward VII (Great Britain) and Alfonso XIII (Spain), 1903. The following year he left his job as customs broker to become a professional photographer. Appointed corresponding photographer in Portugal for Spanish daily ABC and French weekly L'Illustration, 1904, he became principal photographer for O Século and Ilustração Portuguesa. Two years later, he published the only pictures of the Republican Revolution, which would be distributed worldwide.
Benoliel was awarded Gold Medals at the National Exhibition of Graphic Arts, Lisbon, 1912 and Leipzig Exhibition of Graphic Arts, 1914. He accompanied President Bernardino Machado on a visit to Portuguese troops in Flanders during World War I, 1918 and was declared ‘king of the photographers and photographer of kings’ by journalist and political activist Rocha Martins. He covered important events in Holland, 1926, and Spain, including the International Exhibitions in Seville and Barcelona, 1929.
He was awarded the Portuguese Order of Santiago de Espada, 1929 and the Spanish Order of Civil Merit (1930). Last pictures for ABC, 1932. Benoliel died in Lisbon in 1932.

Maria Lamas

Born in Torres Novas, Portugal, 1893, Maria Lamas studied for two years at a catholic school in Torres Novas, 1906-08. She married and moved to Angola with her military husband in 1911. After a divorce, she moved to Lisbon in 1919 and married journalist Alfredo Lamas in 1921. Lamas published a poetry book and first novel in 1923. She was appointed director of women's weekly Modas e Bordados, 1930-47, and published several children's books and novels in the 1930s. She was elected president of the National Council of Portuguese Women, 1946. Taught by a son-in-law who worked for Kodak, she took up photography the following year after deciding to travel all over the country to investigate the living and working conditions of Portuguese women.
She lived in Madeira for two years, 1955-57, and later she was arrested several times for her political ideas. She went into exile in Paris in 1962, returning to Portugal seven years later. Lamas became the director of a new women's magazine, Mulheres (Women) in 1978. She was awarded the Order of Freedom by the President of Portugal, 1980. Lamas died in Lisbon in 1983.

Spain 

Cristina Garcia Rodero

Cristina Garcia Rodero, born in Puertollano, Spain in 1949, became interested in photography as a teenager and shot her first photo essay at age 17. She studied painting at Complutense University, Madrid, before taking up photography. In 1973 she began researching and photographing popular and traditional festivities in rural Spain and Mediterranean Europe. Amongst her many awards, Garcia Rodero has received are a book award from Rencontres d'Arles for España Oculta, 1989; the W. Eugene Smith Grant for Humanist Photography, 1989; the Spanish National Prize of Photography, 1996; Honorary Fellowship of the Royal Photographic Society, 1998; the Bartolomé Ros Prize, 2000, and two World Press Photo Awards.
Garcia Rodero has been exhibited around the world, including twice at the Venice Biennale. A member of Vu agency for more than 15 years, she joined Magnum in 2005, becoming full member in 2009.

Cristóbal Hara

Born 1946 in Madrid, Spain, Hara grew up in the Philippines, USA and Germany, returning to Spain age 8. He studied law and business administration in Spain and Germany before deciding in 1969 to become a photographer. Moving to London, he spent a few years there and exhibited at the Victoria & Albert Museum. Hara switched to colour photography in 1985 and felt free, at last, from the strictures of composition in black and white. Known for his chronicles of rural Spain and her fiestas filtered through the memories of his own childhood. Like with Bill Brandt (in the UK), his ultimate goal is the book, not the exhibition. Vanitas (1998) won the prize for best photography book at PhotoEspaña in 1999. Autobiography, 2007, is the second volume of a trilogy published by Steidl. Recently he has begun a series of so-called 'trivial essays' for Ediciones Anómalas. His photos have also appeared in magazines like Creative Camera, Du, Aperture and others.

Joan Colom

Joan Colom was born in Barcelona, Spain in 1921. Following his military service, he became an accountant in a firm and became involved in photography at age 36 when he joined Agrupació Fotogràfica de Catalunya. An accountant during the week, he began photographing Barcelona's underworld, especially the Barrio Chino or red-light district of Raval, shooting from the hip with a half-hidden camera.
Colom co-founded El Mussol (The Owl) in 1960, an artists' group that included other photographers such as Jordi Munt. In 1962 his work was seen in Paris alongside that of other Catalan photographers. He exhibited Les gens de Raval at Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson in Paris, 2006.
After retirement in 1986 he returned full-time to photography and in the 1990s began to use colour. He was awarded the National Photography Prize in 2002, the Golden Medal for Cultural Merit by the city of Barcelona, the National Visual Arts Prize by the Generalitat de Catalunya and the Creu de Sant Jordi Prize, 2006. In 2011, he donated part of his photographic archive to the National Museum of Art of Catalunya and had his first major exhibition there in 2013.

Ramón Masats

Born in Caldes de Montbui (Barcelona), Spain, 1931, Ramón Masats became interested in photography by chance while doing military service. He joined the photography club of Casino del Comercio in Tarrasa, and later the Agrupación Fotográfica de Catalonia. His first photo-essay documented Las Ramblas, 1953. He moved to Madrid and co-founded the photo-group La Palangana, 1957 and later worked for Gaceta Ilustrada and other magazines. He received many awards, including the Negtor Prize, 1960 and the Ibarra Prize for best book, Los Sanfermines, 1963.
Masats abandoned photography to dedicate himself to film and TV from 1964-81, during which time he received many more accolades and directed several documentaries for TV, including the feature film Tropical Spanish.
He returned to photography in 1981 and had a solo exhibition at Catalonia Photographic Spring, 1984. He exhibited colour photographs at Ateneo de Madrid in 1986 and held a retrospective exhibition at Círculo de Bellas Artes, Madrid, 1999. In 2004, he was awarded the National Prize of Photography.  

https://www.e-flux.com/announcements/185345/dubai-photo-exhibition

Não existiu catálogo e a informação digital sobre a Dubai Photo Exhibition 2016 já não se encontra.

https://www.dodho.com/dubai-photo-exhibition-epitomizes-dubais-international-standing-in-all-fields/

 

https://www.wallpaper.com/art/inaugural-dubai-photo-exhibition-gathers-best-photography-from-around-the-globe

Nuno Viegas 2001 2002 2003 2004 (Cascais) 2008 2009 (Arte Periférica) 2016 (Col. Cachola)

 Nuno Viegas desde 2001

Se há artistas dos anos 00, da primeira década do século, Nuno Viegas é um dos primeiros.
Começou assim em 2001, na colectiva dos dez anos da Arte Periférica:

A rotina do engomadinho, 2001, 250 x 200 cm

(As obras não são cromos, são pinturas, com o que isso implica de matérias, sobreposições, densidades, vestígios, e são de grande formato - ao contrário do que sucede aos artistas de reproduções, são para ver ao vivo)

Não são pinturas "perfeitas", são obras que têm ambições e correm riscos. Não se nasce ensinado, nem os artistas se "consagram" nas primeiras exposições: a maturidade de um pintor é uma palavra com sentido.

1 . 2002, "Captura"

Arte Periférica, Outubro-Novembro.

Magia, óleo /tela, 200 x 170 cm

2.
2003 "Lava"

Arte Periférica   
15-11-2003

N.V. surgiu em 2002 com uma mostra individual que constituiu uma das boas surpresas do ano, vindo da Faculdade de Belas Artes de Lisboa e notado em anteriores colectivas. Confirma agora essa aparição com uma mostra que se apresenta em duas partes, reunindo a primeira trabalhos sobre papel, de desenho e pintura, e a seguinte, a partir de 6 de Dezembro, pinturas de grande formato.

É uma produção proliferante e convulsiva, torrencial, nos seus materiais e processos (tintas plásticas, esmaltes sintéticos, colas e vernizes, papel fotográfico, etc.), o que o título «Lava» traduz, acompanhando-se por um curto texto do autor sobre «a matéria fervente», instável e devastadora, com que constrói e destrói, arrasa e regenera, a imagem - «impregnada pelo germe que foi buscá-la ao imprevisto, trazendo-a para um estado de constante iminência, que não permita que a ideia se consolide ou se mantenha na aparência e que a forma se feche ou acabe».
É uma forma de dizer que o que acontece sobre o suporte é muito mais do que uma imagem aparente, a qual é visível como matéria e acção para lá do que se reconhece como motivo e ideia gráfica - observe-se a distância que vai das reproduções do catálogo às obras realmente vistas, na sua densidade material e no acerto das escalas, do pequeníssimo formato dos desenhos à vastidão das telas.
Sublinhe-se o humor figurativo dos desenhos, a passagem irónica ou perversa da observação à monstrificação das figuras, a luta contra o fácil e agradável, a diversidade das experiências e a ambição patente nas grandes pinturas, onde se circula entre o real quotidiano e o imaginário. À margem das normas que o sistema recomenda. (Até 5 Dez.) CATÁLOGO, tx NV

Sauna, 2003, esmalte sintético, tinta plástica, acrílico, verniz, cola de madeira e caneta de feltro sobre tela, 220 x 180 cm

3.
2004  "A tinta envenenada"
Centro Cultural de Cascais, Julho   
31-07-2004

Um novo conjunto de pinturas e outro de desenhos dão continuidade ao trabalho de um dos mais interessantes jovens artistas surgidos já na presente década. Enfrentando a figura em situações contemporâneas (o acidente de automóvel, uma devassa de arquivos) ou mais ou menos fantasistas, aproximando-se de uma visão crítica da sociedade, com um humor que transcende a observação, N.V. enfrenta o que parecia impossível nos dias de hoje à figuração pictural.
A invenção de processos e de materiais (a «lavagem» dos desenhos a tinta da Índia, o uso de esmaltes sintéticos, cores fosforescentes e colas) sustentam uma exuberância oficinal paralela à veemência das imagens. (Até 4 Set.)

4.
2006, "O Precipitado", Arte Periférica.

#

VER : 11/29/2008

Nuno Viegas no CCB : A Núvem Nódoa

Arte Periférica 1ª parte: 15 nov. CATÁLOGO tx NV

2ª parte: 15 dez. CATÁLOGO

#

 2009 "Temor e tremor"

Arte Periférica, CCB, até 13 de Janeiro

12/24/2009

Pinturas maximalistas

"A grande falta de paciência"

acrílico, esmalte sintético, tinta da índia, verniz, marcador de têmpera, lápis de cor e grafite sobre tela, 220 x 180 cm

"Le Flâneur" - esmalte sintético, acrílico, verniz, tinta da índia, marcador de têmpera e lápis de cor sobre tela, 220 x 180 cm.

NUNO VIEGAS

desde 2002 regularmente (n. 1977, Almeida), sempre na mesma galeria, salvo em 2004 no Centro Cultural de Cascais, e em 2005, data de dois nºs da revista Colóquio muito ilustrados. 

Neste caso há um personagem (o mesmo?) quase sempre presente nos quadros de maior formato. Primeiro "Em águas de bacalhau"; ao centro e ao fundo a "Lavar a roupa suja - despir, torcer, esfregar" (um tríptico que se mostrara na feira de Lisboa), e por fim, no catálogo, a declarar "Lavo daqui as minhas mãos", o que é literalmente feito. As águas são turvas e agitadas, como a pintura que se solidifica sobre a tela sem deixar de ser viscosa, turbulenta e sempre aparentemente ainda líquida, a escorrer entre as figuras e o fundo. Os flamingos são aves aquáticas e o gato que cai ou nada sobre elas calça braçadeiras (quem é aqui o flâneur?); também parece haver uma bóia, ou será satélite?, sobre a cabeça invisual do impaciente, mas há mesmo um balde que se entorna. A tinta está por toda a parte, como a "Lava" e a "Tinta envenenada" de anteriores exposições, é matéria e motivo da pintura, mais do que meio de representação. Inunda a tela e ameaça diluir a figura e a acção. É onda que submerge o protagonista da primeira cena.

Nas pinturas de menor formato, naturezas mortas, ou fragmentos de interiores, onde os objectos são animados por acções inexplicadas, vêem-se outros desastres ou a iminência deles, numa sempre presente instabilidade que é ameaça ou já situação de derrocada. Uma barra de krytonite na cesta das frutas e um computador a explodir iniciam a série de desastres. A terra treme.

O título geral é o do mais famoso livro de Kierkegaard

#

2010 O Náufrago

Teatro Municipal da Guarda

nov.2010 jan: CATÁLOGO tx NV.

#

2011 Parafrenália 

1ª parte - Desenhos

Arte Periférica 30 Abril. CATÁLOGO

2011 A de Animal

Arte Periférica 5 nov. CATÁLOGO (tx NV)

#

05/15/2016

Nuno Viegas na Colecção Cachola

Certamente a lista de artistas da Colecção António Cachola está ainda "in progress", mas parece-me chocante notar-se já a falta de um pintor que o próprio colecionador quis associar especialmente à inauguração do seu Museu em Elvas: o Nuno Viegas, que pintou três grandes telas à escala dos corredores do antigo hospital, com destino à instalação inaugural: essas grandes pinturas sobre tela, que se referem ao lugar do museu enquanto hospital e à específica função deste, bem como uma série associada de trabalhos sobre papel, foram realizadas num atelier em Benfica, alugado durante um ano - e aí as pude ver logo que concluídas. Mas as obras não foram apresentadas na inauguração, de que encarregou João Pinharanda, e só algumas outras obras foram mais tarde expostos (2012).

Acho o Nuno Viegas um dos artistas mais importantes entre os surgiram ou se afirmaram nas primeiras décadas do novo século, mas o "gosto oficial", o mecanismo das exclusões institucionais, com a sua lógica clientelar, tem coartado a visibilidade da sua obra. Aposto que é uma das grandes apostas originais da colecção - que na maior parte dos nomes segue a rotina dos artistas do sistema galerístico-oficial. N.V. teve uma única mostra institucional em 2004, “A tinta envenenada”, no Centro Cultural de Cascais, e expõe regularmente, desde 2002, na galeria Arte Periférica. Não é fácil resistir ao muro de isolamento que é habitualmente levantado à volta dos artistas que se destacam da mediania que o sistema favorece, mediania formada por pequenas promessas surgidas à volta de três ou quatro nomes oficiais, envolvidos num sistema protector que eles próprios controlam, sob a tutela das "galerias líder". Acontece que a protecção dada às emergências fugazes e à mediocridade ambiente - tal como a insignificância de uma crítica oportunista - está a tornar o meio das artes visuais num terreno sem credibilidade, minado pelas suspeitas e só sustentado por tutores institucionais, de que se afastam espectadores e compradores. Os leilões, onde o segundo mercado estabelece os valores do reconhecimento das carreiras, estão a confirmar o descrédito do sistema oficial.

 

Duas pinturas de grande formato do Nuno Viegas mostradas na exposição "Génesis" do Museu de Arte Contemporânea de Elvas (na foto instaladas no Museu): "A colisão improvável", 270 x 360cm, 2008, e "A nuvem que nos separa", 270 x 360cm, 2008.

Têm o defeito de serem a cores e não do preto e branco, conforme o regime vigente, e de não serem "minimalistas" - pelo contrário, são maximalistas, podem ser observadas como comentários do presente (em vez de serem apenas um exercício formal, ou uma obra de arte sobre a ideia de arte), são comunicativas e despertam emoções, são livres de tutelas escolares ou críticas, são formal e materialmente poderosas na sua realização pictural, são abertamente imaginativas quanto à sua temática figurativa e narrativa.

Da colecção António Cachola fazem parte as três telas adquiridas pelo coleccionador na perspectiva da inauguração do seu museu, a que acima me refiro, mais 14 desenhos dentro da mesma temática, bem como outras duas telas de grande formato adquiridas mais tarde e que integraram a exposição "Génesis" do MACE em 2012. Defendo que são obras mais poderosas e radicais do que a generalidade das peças da colecção. Suspeito que é por isso que se exerce alguma censura - ou será distração?