GUIDO IGNATTI, War Club

Buenos Aires – War Club in Boedo is more club than gallery where you can listen and dance to live dj sets. However, instead of go-go dancers or shows, you are surrounded by art. I like the idea of “curating” a club, and War Club has a good curator. Daniela Luna injects War Club’s events with the same punk energy she brings to her Appetite Gallery in San Telmo where the art is not only on the walls but also in the events that occur between them.

War Club proves that the true spirit of punk is not in the heavy-touch, but rather in the no-touch. The space itself, a former factory, has neither been altered nor honed and instead maintains its concrete floors, cracked plaster walls, and courtyard bar’s half-open-to-the-sky ceiling. On the club’s opening night, the bar itself consisted of no more than a chest-fridge with its available (albeit limited) drinks written on a piece of paper in quick sharpie pen. But the crowd who patronizes War Club is not picky; moreover, they come not for the space but for what happens in the space – for the art, the music, and the people.

So it was in keeping with this spirit of counter-intervention that Luna invited one of her artists to create an installation at War Club. In a small former kitchen, sandwiched in a corner between the bar and the main room, Guido Ignatti has "non-transformed" the space. Because it looks deceptively similar to how it appeared before Ignatti began. With Poetica intimista en un espacio que no le corresponde (or Intimate poetry in a space that does not correspond), Ignattti gives us a seemingly institutional kitchen, very much of a bygone era of sometime between 1950 and 1980.

Ignatti’s hand is barely noticeable: you can’t be certain which features are original and which have been changed. In fact, much of the original kitchen remains – including the tiles, countertops, and appliances. But Ignatti cleaned and honed these features until they became more than themselves. The tiles transcend their uniqueness; they are also the essence of Tiles.

Ignatti added the carpet which, when stepped on, automatically signals your entrance into a different space. You are in the kitchen but at the same time you float; your soft and quiet tread detaches you. But the wallpaper is probably the most surprising addition. Ignatti has aged it so convincingly you would swear it has been there for years prior. However, the baroque monkey-in-a-tree pattern provides the subtlest incongruity, suggesting another sensibility, another – perhaps parallel – place or time.

You feel like you’ve been here before but you are also aware of it being a unique space. Different epochs, specifics and ideals, along with your own individual memories, are conflated into one. For a moment time stands still.

Nathan Tichenor

ELBA BAIRON, Braga Menendez Contemporaneo

Buenos Aires – Braga Menendez Contemporaneo’s show of Elba Bairon’s sculptures features a large grid of basic black metal shelving displaying about a dozen pieces – mostly white, a few black – arranged as though they were drying in her studio. The shelving is surrounded by three, near-identical, near-life-sized, female figures sitting and holding something in their laps.

To me they appear to be “drying” because Bairon’s pieces look cast-molded from a ceramic or porcelain slip. And on the shelving her works seem like ceramics waiting to be fired, or in-between firings in what’s referred to as a “bisquit” stage (after the first firing but before the application of glaze and the final firing). Bairon’s medium is in fact not ceramic but rather a combination of papier mache and plaster. But their final smooth, matte, molded appearance heightens the sense that her works inhabit a state of constant “becoming”, or similarly, a position in-between states.

The shapes of the pieces themselves sit on the cusp of recognition. From one side, a piece appears amorphous, but from the other, with the addition of a few strokes of crayon-like paint, the piece becomes a human head. Likewise, a head with tree branches sprouting out the back, from another angle, looks like a human heart, arteries and all. The features of the seated female figures are so undefined that they seem equally either in the process of emerging or being eroded away. And the ceramic-ness of the pieces give them an appearance of over-sized figurines causing us to wonder: are these crafts, mass-produced chatchkas, or works of art?

And it is exactly this defiance of definition that breathes a subtle, beautiful life into Bairon’s pieces. Their forms engage our cognition. They invite us to perceive. And as a result, Bairon’s work stimulates an awareness of our perception: of how we form, shape, categorize, and make sense of our world. How, in fact, we make the world as we perceive it.

Nathan Tichenor

FERNANDO PALOMAR, ArteBA

Buenos Aires – Some of the best works to be seen at ArteBA were those in the curated sections. There was a number of installations and sculptures at El Rural’s rear section, each one emerging from the hall’s dark gloom. Sigismond de Vajay’s “Goodbye Gasoline” consisted of 42 miniature oil derricks on an elevated platform-cum-oil field. Lit with an eerie, post-apocalyptic twilight, each derrick moved slowly and methodically while occasional mists of smoke were released to complete the mood. Viewing stools stood at each corner, allowing you an eye-level perspective with the ground of the oil field. This was a hit at ArteBA, particularly with kids.

Also stunning was the huge video sculpture staircase designed by Guillermo Lerner. Commissioned by Converse shoes (to celebrate their 100th anniversary), the sculpture welcomed visitors into Converse's sponsored area: Caja Negra / Cubo Blanco - the curated video section of ArteBA.

But for me, the real show-stopper, take-away piece was Fernando Palomar’s “Haffner Finale.” In Palomar's video we see the artist seated at his drum set, in front of a picture window, outside of which the sun sets over a beautiful, pastoral landscape. Playing in the background we can hear the finale, or presto, of Mozart’s Symphony number 35 (Haffner). As the music zips along we watch Palomar mark the tempo, meticulously and silently, then jump in on his drums and join the timpani - along with the full orchestra. He jumps in and out of the music accordingly, producing dual sensations of, on the one hand, electric anticipation as he waits, and on the other, ecstatic communion when he joins in. The end result is hypnotic.

Palomar achieves a fantastic visual and aural layering of time. As the music crescendos with the sunset's culmination, we watch the artist literally mark time and play out the day. Initially the video gives a wonderfully simple impression of an amateur musician joining an orchestra as it plays a classical masterpiece. But by the video’s end you are so wrapped up in the fantastic swirl of music and vista, you begin to get the sneaking sensation that Palomar is the one in control of the entire situation, including the orchestration of the sun’s setting. Within 4 minutes Palomar moves from artist-as-novice to artist-as-master.

Fernando Palomar is a Mexican artist from Guadalajara.

Nathan Tichenor

The Best Spaces in Town

London - It’s been almost one year since my arrival in London, and I’m only now catching my breath.

I could report on an incalculable array of exhibitions and artists, but have decided to keep it to the point. My four favorite exhibition spaces to date are, in no particular order: Matt’s Gallery, INIVA, South London Gallery and Camden Arts Centre.

mattsgallery.org

iniva.org

southlondongallery.org

camdenartscentre.org

There are newer and/or grittier galleries that offer more avant-garde cred, but the integrity of these latter spaces has engaged me far beyond the bits and pieces that freckle the London scene. Each one offers a library or reading space, and the programming is discerning and inviting in equal measure…. and I look forward to their next offerings.

Liz Bruchet

ArteBA: Buenos Aires Contemporary Art Fair

Buenos Aires - Every year Buenos Aires holds its contemporary art fair in La Rural, the new and sprawling conference centre/complex. ArteBA lasts for 5 days (May 29 – June 2), and I went to the opening night party but also returned a couple times to take in the huge amount of work being shown. Opening nights are always difficult to focus on the art when the crowd takes your attention. Add to that many bottles of Chandon and a nasty film of cigarette smoke in the air and you get an environment not conducive to (and perhaps pointless to attempt) concentration.

Nevertheless I did leave that first night feeling overwhelmed by the quantity of the work and under-whelmed by the variety or the impact. However, taking into account that the numbing quantity of works on display might be a drawback of all art fairs (and the nature of the beast), I was certain to return to give the galleries and the work a second chance.

I returned Sunday to crowds that seemed even larger; a testament to the success of the fair. But again, I did feel, while on the whole good, not much of the work really stood out and grabbed me. In an art fair environment, the dealers really have to step it up and provide at least some dramatic impact. For better or for worse, when you’re displaying cheek to jowl, it inevitably becomes about image and impact. That said, Appetite Gallery’s stand was always busy with its chaotic rec room atmosphere – almost an extension of the San Telmo gallery’s physical ocation. And Del Infinito’s display of Alejandra Tavolini’s toy stuffed pig (cut in half, a la Damien Hirst) was a small but hilarious piece with affect, and it deserved its attention.


But when one of the most conservative galleries at the fair makes the biggest impact, I think something’s gone a bit wrong. Daniel Maman Fine Arts occupied one of the largest stands, but it was their use of that space, their museum quality installation of museum quality art, that was flawless. In particular Juan Batlle Planas’ untitled 1963 painting – a serious piece of real estate measuring 16’ X 12’ – loomed stunningly in the low light.


And painting there was. A lot of painting. In common with a lot of it today, much of the painting favoured subtleties, the small gesture. And that works really well when you stumble off a busy street into a quiet gallery. But an art fair environment just isn’t conducive to showing that kind of work. There were exceptions: testament to their beauty, Remo Bianchedi’s tiny paintings on wood grabbed me from the aisle and drew me into Galeria Jacques Martinez’s stand. I’ll return to their gallery on Avenida de Mayo to look at his work more.


There was some photography, but not as much as I’d hoped for. Not much explored new territory and not much had a really strong impact. But there were some videos and installations that grabbed me more, interestingly all part of the curated sections. I’ll detail those in the next post.

Nathan Tichenor

STREET ART, Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires - Today was unusually cold for Buenos Aires (around 8°C) and, as I was walking to the gym, a small flock of beautiful green parakeets flew overhead and landed in what looked like a cocoa tree. As they noisily picked at the fruit that was left on the tree, a group of people gathered to watch and discuss. There’s always something interesting to look at outside here, and it gives strangers a good excuse to have a conversation.

In Buenos Aires public life is engaging and that translates to the art. There seem to be some exceptional street artists working here judging from the examples you can find when wandering around. This isn’t your average graffiti: the quality of some of the work is extremely high. It ranges from stencil to free-hand, and cartoon to lyrical. 

I guess you could link this to the Latin American muralist tradition, and it would be a pretty valid connection. But I think the street art here speaks more to the urge to transform public spaces into works of art, to make something spectacular out of a piece of crumbling wall, and to make someone stop and take notice of a space that used to be only “in between.”

So with this strong presence of street art here, it was no surprise that, as part of its 60th anniversary celebrations, Puma chose to sponsor the Urban Festival of Street Art in Buenos Aires this past May 24 and 25. 

Nathan Tichenor

SIBYL COHEN, Braga Menendez Contemporaneo

Buenos Aires - Perhaps more subtle than Juan Tessi's work, but no less powerful, Sibyl Cohen’s giant canvases (roughly 7'X7') delineate vast and palatial interiors. While they might be empty like Videla’s, her spaces do not resonate with the absence of figures. Instead, her paintings are of space itself. They masterfully exemplify the ever-persistent miracle of reproducing the three dimensions of the outside world onto the two dimensions of the painting’s surface. Or, vice versa, they transform the two-dimensions of the painting’s surface via the illusion of the three dimensions of the outside world.

And, more precisely, we can feel the tension when that reproduction and transformation happens. Cohen's illusion is not perfect: it oscillates between the abstract two-dimensional shapes on the canvas and the illusion of three-dimensional space these shapes can trick our eye into believing. Her paintings seem to represent that very moment when illusion begins to gel.

Cohen’s large scale and prominent line depict a space that draws in and surrounds the viewer. This, combined with her matte surfaces, recalls frescoes, especially those of the Italian Renaissance. As a time when horizons – geographic and philosophic – were broadened and the wonder of discovery infused all practices, this Renaissance wonder in turn imbues Cohen’s paintings. So while her interiors might seem old and formal, they are nonetheless transformed anew. By way of perspective and paint, Cohen gives us that same sense of dizzying Renaissance awe when confronted with the illusion of vast space.

Nathan Tichenor