Saturday, November 25, 2006


JORGE MAZARIEGOS (Guatemala)
Defragmentación 1
Oleo sobre tela
36" x 36", 2006

Friday, November 24, 2006


PABLO SORIA (Argentina)
Alderetes, de la serie Las Yungas Suite
Litex camera film tonalizado en sepia montado sobre lino y pintura acrílica
110 x110 cms. 2006

“Las Yungas Suite” – Prólogo por Pablo Soria

La serie de autorretratos que vengo realizando desde el año 97’, es un hilo conductor en mi obra, la cual me ha permitido investigar o explorar otros rumbos o aspectos de mi trabajo.

En la serie de autorretratos, me ubico como un personaje revelador de mis memorias, en escenarios que permiten entrever al artista, como un personaje – voyeur; un doble rol que también podría ser jugado por el espectador. Una invitación.

Esa presencia enigmática del personaje en la obra, creadora de interrogantes, esta dada por la interposición o yuxtaposición de pantallas entre el espectador y el sujeto. Estas pantallas, que a su vez son vallas entre un universo y otro, son indicadoras de un tiempo y una acción determinada y las variaciones que se producen en ellas, van introduciendo al espectador en la obra.

Esta confidencia ante la cámara, intenta reflejar los estados del pensamiento en el correr del tiempo. Intenta desvelar y declarar en una secuencia autobiográfica, la obsesión por el recuerdo: del país, el amor, la infancia, la perdida, los anhelos, los hombres, las costumbres, las cosas de vida intima.

El proyecto titulado, “Las Yungas Suite”, nace a partir de unas intervenciones y escenarios realizados en la región de Las Yungas, norte argentino, provincia de Tucumán, para una nueva serie de autorretratos a ser realizados in situ.

Hay una actitud nostálgica e intimista en estos nuevos trabajos; es pretender recuperar algo de uno mismo, porque en algún punto se lo ha perdido. Es siempre volver a un lugar común, o querer seguir perteneciendo a el. Y la memoria guarda casi intactos estos lugares. Entonces, es hacer una revisión, casi como en un diario de viajero y captar cada paisaje y situación para luego reinterpretarlo y hacer un nexo de conexión entre el presente y el pasado. O dicho de otra manera: que es lo que la memoria guarda de cada lugar? .Que es lo que queda?.
En la obra uno es todo lo que ha sido. Un reflejo.

Técnicamente, las imágenes están impresas sobre Litex Camera Film tonalizado en sepia, montadas sobre una pintura acrílica hecha sobre papel o madera, realizada específicamente para cada obra.

Thursday, November 23, 2006



CARMEN ELENA TRIGUEROS (El Salvador)
Intervención de los servicios sanitarios del Centro Cultural de España en San Salvador
2006

Wednesday, November 22, 2006


MARIA CRISTINA ORIVE (Guatemala)
Sol y Luna
Plata sobre gelatina, 1978

WALTER IRAHETA (El Salvador)
Superniño en Atitlán, de la serie Kriptonita
C print, 30" x 20", 2003

- My friend Edu … asks me, “Does Superman need to eat?”
- Well, no, not really. His body feeds off solar energy and that is enough for him.... In the comic book Peace on Earth this is mentioned, since Clark, studying the problem of hunger on Earth, feels sorry for them and says that since he doesn’t need to eat hi will never know the pain of hunger.
(Taken from http://supermanjaviolivares.iespana.es/supermanjaviolivares/CURIOSIDADES.htm)

At the end of Kill Bill 2 – Quentin Tarantino’s masterpiece – David Carradine (Bill) performs a long monologue about the duality of Superman/Clark Kent, inverting the alter ego relationship between the hero and the man. It is a commentary that affirms the impossibility of avoiding or changing the destiny that awaits each person: Beatrix Kiddo was born an assassin, just as Superman was born being himself. This monologue, which the most well-read critics have associated with an old essay by Jules Feiffer, leads one to a rereading of Salvadoran artist Waterio Iraheta’s Kriptonita (“Kryptonite”), in an exercise of cultural transvestitism where all imposition – beneficial or not – constantly acquires a level of fatality.

The non-western world is bombarded daily – in their interactions with the media – with visual images that obliterate their esthetic vision. However, art takes this effect and turns it into counter-discourse when it subverts and appropriates images from the mass media. It is in this vane that the Superman character becomes the leitmotiv of Iraheta’s visual essay – the same hero that was used as an instrument of patriotic propaganda during World War II.

These days, after the end of art – as announced with the arrival of Warhol and his Brillo Box – artistic production has begun to displace itself from its accepted spaces of expression, keeping the taxonomy of the period as its shield, and with the haste and the dizziness of the times led to the annihilation of the daily. The bizarre terrain of art allows us, on many occasions, to have intimate dialogues with objects that refer to our everyday experiences, leading to the reformulation of realism. It is in this way that we are constantly falling back on the archaeology of modern objects, or a barter and trade economy, carried out in trades, in juxtaposition, or in costume. These transactions, and their conceptually elaborated premises, blame the questions “what” and “how” for encroaching upon the “why” and removing it from artistic discourse, and it is there that the objet trouvé continues to be the muse for the hazardous. It is in this way that Iraheta’s hand works to make these things – Superman’s clothes or his classic figures (including the flying lessons, done in Porter’s style) – subjects of transfiguration, that which introduces us to the sacrosanct cult of the ordinary.

If the work of Iraheta had accustomed us to more domestic and self-referencing exercises, Kriptonita threatens with all the artist’s range of possibilities – meticulous work in drawing, photography and installation – staged as a malefic game. This duality of antonyms is the deceptive doubling back upon which a new aesthetic has been created: arriving at what belongs to oneself with a sense of déjà vu, an irremediable association of our false discourse of infinitely asking for forgiveness. Iraheta does not need to define himself as apocalyptic in order to play with this historic illness that has pushed us to the cynicism of adopting the aesthetic of populist spontaneity and attributing to it the end of the ridiculous.

One question cannot be avoided with this exhibit: What is Kriptonita? In the Superman saga, you have the response in a strange and diversified mineral, which comes from Krypton, the superhero’s planet, and which makes his powers disappear. Tempted by metaphoric language, this explication derives from a psychoanalytical reading, one which equates the place from which we come with the mother figure and the loss of powers with the catastrophic. Thereby the super-people who share the exhibit with the hero share not only a quota of solar energy, which is essential for survival, but also two fatal qualities – their own planet which rejects them, and a suit as false as the emancipating stories and the modern utopia. Here, all are left naked and without the crown.

It shouldn’t surprise us that the artist has chosen local stereotypes to fit with his historical joke. We must revisit the taste for the local, for clichés and regional exoticism, in order to borrow from a discourse that remains on the boundaries between the politically correct and the rampantly amoral. Each one of those portrayed – like Beatriz Kiddo, like Superman – shows their fatality, shows that as much as they may “cross dress,” trying to fully disguise themselves, they cannot escape their own Kriptonita, the obligation to a life that detests possibilities.

Clara Astiasaran
Costa Rica, April 2005

Tuesday, November 21, 2006


MOISES BARRIOS (Guatemala)
Fotógrafo ambulante en la playa del Puerto de San José, de la serie Ilustración del Pacífico
Acuarela, 2005