Vortic: Female Voices of Latin America

 

VORTIC FEMALE VOICES OF LATIN AMERICA

Largest ever presentation of Latin American female artists

March 8 - May 2, 2021

Female Voices of Latin América celebrates the work of over 150 living female artists from across the region, presented by more than 60 international galleries and institutions. The presentation is the largest ever of Latin American female artists, a group who have been traditionally underrepresented in the international art world, and launched on 8 March 2021 to coincide with International Women’s Day. Each of the participating galleries and institutions present virtual exhibitions on the Vortic platform available to view online at vortic.art until

2 May 2021.

The initiative offers the chance for collaboration and facilitates the exchange of ideas between galleries whilst spotlighting those around the world who are supporting female Latin American artists, with 19 countries represented. Offering a place of discovery, the collective will pay tribute to artists at all stages of their careers.

The initiative has been curated by a selection committee created and directed by Elena Saraceni, including independent curator Kiki Mazzucchelli, Leslie Ramos (Founder, ArtEater), Lassla Esquivel Durand (Founder, Periferia Projects) and Alessandra Modiano (Director of Sales, Victoria Miro).

The full list of participating galleries and institutions:

● Abra Caracas (Caracas) – (Dulce Gómez)

● A Gentil Carioca (Rio de Janeiro) – Maria Laet, Laura Lima, Ana Linnemann, Renata Lucas, Aleta Valente)

● Aninat Galería (Santiago) – (Teresa Aninat, Patricia Belli, Mónica Bengoa, Jacinta Besa, Fernanda López, Mariana Najmanovich, Kira Piriz, Catalina Swinburn, Manuela Viera-Gallo)

● Carmen Araujo Arte (Caracas) – (Deborah Castillo, Suwon Lee)

● Arróniz Arte Contemporáneo (Mexico City) – (Francisca Aninat, Marcela Armas, María Edwards, Mónica Espinosa, Luciana Lamothe)

● Barro (Buenos Aires) – (Alejandra Seeber)

● Baró Galeria (São Paulo & Madrid) – (Ana Almeida, Gabriela Monteiro)

● Bergamin & Gomide (São Paulo) – (Lenora De Barros)

● Bisagra (Lima) – Artist to be announced

● Luciana Brito Galeria (São Paulo) – (Regina Silveria)

● Cecilia Brunson Projects (London) – (Lucía Pizzani)

● Casa MA (San José) – (Marilyn Boror Bor, Victoria Cabezas, Natalia Dominguez, Claudia Gordillo, Melissa Guevara, Anel Kenjekeeva, Xenia Mejía, Abigail Reyes, Susana Sánchez Carballo, Haydeé Victoria Suescum, Sussy Vargas Alvarado)

● Casa Triângulo (São Paulo) – (Juliana Cerqueira Leite, Sandra Cinto, Vânia Mignone, Mariana Palma, Lyz Parayzo, Manuela Ribadeneira, Marcia Xavier)

● Casas Riegner (Bogotá) – (Liliana Sánchez)

● Central Galería (São Paulo) – (Gretta Sarfaty)

● Centro Cultural São Paulo (São Paulo) – (Renata Felinto, Ventura Profana, Daiara Tukano, Luana Vitra)

● Patricia Conde Galería (Mexico City) – (Graciela Iturbide)

● Crèvecœur (Paris & Marseille) – (Sol Calero)

● Crisis Galería (Lima) – (Jimena Chávez Delion, Pierina Másquez Limo, Ana Navas)

● Delfina Foundation (London) – (Constanza Alarcón Tennen)

● Espacio Julio (Mendoza) – (Yanieb Fabre, Bianca Lee Vasquez)

● Embajada (San Juan) – (Taína Cruz, Larissa De Jesus, Glendalys Medina, Nora Maité Nieves, Livia Ortiz Ríos)

● Espacio Minimo (Madrid) – (Alicia Mihai Gazcue, Liliana Porter, Ana Tiscornia)

● Henrique Faria (New York) – (Delia Cancela, Anna Bella Geiger, Mercedes Elena González, Marta Minujín, Yeni & Nan)

● Freijo Gallery (Madrid) – (Gina Arizpe)

● Fundación Sala Mendoza (Caracas) – (Florencia Alvarado, Valentina Alvarado Matos, Costanza De Rogatis)

● Fundacion Govea-Meoz (Maracaibo) – (María Bilbao-Herrera, Lourdes Peñaranda, Elsy Zavarce)

● Galería Nora Fisch (Buenos Aires) – (Adriana Bustos, Fernanda Laguna)

● Galería La Caja Negra (Madrid) – (Liliana Porter, Regina Silveira)

● Galería de las Misiones (Uruguay) – (Mariana Villafañe)

● Gasworks (London) – (Patricia Domínguez)

● Beatriz Gil (Caracas) – (Bernadette Despujols, Clemencia Labin, Nela Ochoa, Cecilia Paredes, Liliana Porter, Ana Tiscornia)

● Green Art Gallery (Dubai) – (Ana Mazzei)

● Herlitzka + Faria (Buenos Aires) – (Elda Cerrato, Karina Peisajovich, Susana Rodríguez, Candelaria Traverso)

● Kiosko Galería (Santa Cruz) – (Alejandra Alarcón, Claudia Joskowicz, Guiomar Mesa, Raquel Schwartz)

● Fortes D'Aloia & Gabriel (Rio de Janeiro & São Paulo) – (Leda Catunda, Lucia Laguna, Jac Leirner, Beatriz Milhazes, Rivane Neuenschwander, Marina Rheingantz, Valeska Soares, Janaina Tschäpe, Adriana Varejão, Erika Verzutti)

● Kupfer (London) – (Sofía Clausse)

● Galeria Jaqueline Martins (São Paulo) – (Ana Mazzei, Regina Vater)

● Galería Luisa Strina (São Paulo) – (Panmela Castro, Fernanda Gomes, Magdalena Jitrik, Laura Lima, Ana Maria Maiolino)

● Instituto de Visión (Bogotá) – (Karen Paulina Biswell, Carolina Caycedo, Karen Lamassonne, Maria Evelia Marmolejo, Nohemí Pérez, Ana Roldan, María Isabel Rueda)

● Kinderhook & Caracas (Berlin) – (Ana Alenso, Andrea Canepa)

● Labor (Mexico City) – (Irene Kopelman)

● La Gran (Madrid) – (Ana Teresa Barboza)

● MAMBO - Museo de Arte Moderno de Bogotá (Bogotá) – (Rosario López)

● Museo de Arte y Diseño Contemporáneo (San José) – (Emilia Azcárate, Pía Chavarría, Aimée Joaristi, Momo Magallon, Nadia Mendoza, Maya Weishof)

● MUMA, Museo de Mujeres Artistas (Museum of Women Artists) (Mexico) – (Mónica Mayer)

● Museo Tamayo (Mexico City) – (Fernanda Barreto, Pia Camil, Julieta Gil, Ángela Leyva, Rita

Ponce de León)

● mor charpentier (Paris) – (Paz Errázuriz, Teresa Margolles, Nohemí Pérez, Rosângela Rennó)

● NF/NIEVES FERNÁNDEZ (Madrid) – (Fritzia Irizar, Daniela Libertad)

● Nueveochenta (Bogotá) – (Beatriz Olano)

● Peres Projects (Berlin) – (Donna Huanca, Ad Minoliti)

● Periferia Projects (London & Paris) – (Maria Laet, Lizi Sánchez, Guga Szabzon)

● PROYECTOSMONCLOVA (Mexico City) – (Verónica Gerber Bicecci, Chantal Peñalosa)

● Proyecto Paralelo (Mexico City) – (Ana Bidart, Cynthia Gutiérrez, Lake Verea)

● Proyectos Ultravioleta (Guatemala City) – (Hellen Ascoli, Regina José Galindo, Johanna

Unzueta)

● PUBLIC Gallery (London) – (Vanessa da Silva)

● PROXYCO (New York) – (Lucía Vidales)

● Rolf Art (Buenos Aires) – (María José Arjona, Ananké Asseff, Vivian Galban, Adriana Lestido, Dalila Puzzovio, Silvia Rivas, Milagros de la Torre)

● Anita Schwartz Galeria de Arte (Rio de Janeiro) – (Livia Flores, Gabriela Machado)

● Southern Stars (London) – (Delia Cancela)

● TJ Boulting (London) – (Juliana Cerqueira Leite, Laureana Toledo)

The body as Territory

A female exhibition curated by KIOSKO Gallery/ 

Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia

The exhibition proposes a selection of 20 works in different media that, as a whole, rethink the idea of the body in tension with the physical space, and the territorialization in which the construction of personal identity is framed.

The exhibition called ¨The body as territory¨ produced for the Female voices of Latin America exhibition, consists in 20 works with the artworks of four Bolivian women, Raquel Schwartz, Alejandra Alarcón, Guiomar Mesa and Claudia Joskowicz, who reflect the tensions between space and its inflection in individual identity.

Claudia Joskowicz

Alejandra Alarcón

Guiomar Mesa

Raquel Schwartz

The show includes very important works to the context of Bolivian art, such as the instalation SOMOS by the artist Raquel Schwartz, the documentation of a intervention in the base of the monument in the main square of the city of Santa Cruz, the work which covers the base of the monument with mirrors, not only adorns and turns the sculpture into a friendly place for the public of the city, but also puts in tension, the reality of the daily life of the city, and contrasts it with the monument, the history that the politics decided to promote and the urban landscape.

The video ¨Drawn and Quartered¨ by video artist Claudia Joskowicz, a pan of a postmodern representation of the torture and death of the indigenous leader Tupac Amaru, an indigenous who led the first indian revolution during the spanish colonization in actual bolivian territory, and which has remained as a milestone in the struggle for equality of rights in the country. The panning that slowly runs through the scene, cannot avoid showing the colonial landscape as a pillar of impact within the action of the video.

The series of oil paintings “sea of salt” by the artist Guiomar Mesa, are not only hyper-realistic representations of Uyuni´s salt lake, one of the regions more easily identifiable touristic sites in Bolivia, but these paintings in the context, not only are framed on the edge of pictorial abstraction, but also insist on a representation of a white territory, full of textures and lights, generating a somewhat confusing representation of reality, and the way in which it is represented through painting.The series of oil paintings “sea of salt” by the artist Guiomar Mesa, are not only hyper-realistic representations of Uyuni´s salt lake, one of the regions more easily identifiable touristic sites in Bolivia, but these paintings in the context, not only are framed on the edge of pictorial abstraction, but also insist on a representation of a white territory, full of textures and lights, generating a somewhat confusing representation of reality, and the way in which it is represented through painting.

Alejandra Alarcón, far from the spacial representations like the rest of the artists, proposes to look at the body and its representation as a territory of experiences that is going to define it within, as in the work, "tamer of wolves" in which with a clear reference to children's stories, the artist creates a space-time in which the tamer overpower a group of wolves that are prostrate at her feet.

This exhibition is an excellent look at current Bolivian art production and the strength and power of its creators.

ARGUCIAS DEL CUERPO Charla

 

Se puede ver la charla

AQUI

Aproximaciones a El libro de la leche y El libro de la sangre por Paola R. Senseve T.

Alejandra Alarcón, una precipitación

Aproximaciones a El libro de la leche y El libro de la sangre

 

Paola R. Senseve T.

Una mujer sin rostro me mira. Intenta tocarme, pero no tiene manos. Está fuera, de foco, de casa, en la intemperie, bajo el sol, sus cabellos surcan con el viento. Está partida en dos, es probable que no sea una mujer, que sean dos mujeres. Yo tengo rostro, yo la miro buscando. Yo tengo manos, las estiro para tocarla y sentir. Sus heridas de mujer están abiertas. ¿Qué es ser mujer? ¿Cuáles son las heridas de mujer? Esa mujer no tiene rostro, pero tiene vagina. Sus senos están inflados, de ellos brota un líquido que baja hasta unirse con otro líquido que surge desde la incisión que refrenda su maternidad. ¿Una mujer es una madre? ¿Una madre es una mujer? Si algo pasa en esta imagen, es que de repente me ha inundado. Ahora mis ojos están inmersos en un humor vítreo compuesto de leche y sangre. 

El párrafo anterior corresponde a una de las piezas que componen El libro de la leche y El libro de la sangre, series de la artista boliviana Alejandra Alarcón. La reacción al observarla es semejante a una transfusión, que líquidamente te recorre hasta convertirse en ti, es decir, dos cuerpos en un solo cuerpo.

A menudo imagino a Alejandra nadando, sumergida en agua, porque sé que es una actividad que practica, pero también porque la he visto pintar. Pintar respirando con ritmo, moviéndose aparatosamente para cubrir algunas grandes superficies con todo su cuerpo, como si el aire fuera agua. Como si el papel fuera agua y el agua fuera agua y sus dedos fueran agua también. Respirar, fluir. Alejandra Alarcón entiende el agua, la defiende y la reivindica como el país donde ha decidido vivir, como su hogar, como su medio de transporte y comunicación y alimentación y amor. Y para sorpresa de algunas -no mía-, también como tema discursivo: Alejandra milita una coherencia absoluta y constante.

Asumo que esa constancia de años de trabajo ancla su fuero en que aquello que tiene cualidad líquida, por naturaleza, no entiende límites; los pelea. Entonces la obra, o la idea, o la propuesta, no está terminada. La búsqueda no acaba porque rebalsa y transmigra a otros espacios y estadios, como la vida misma, a veces difíciles de controlar. Si lo pienso bien, esa delgada línea de distinción, entre necesitar controlarlo todo para crear algo y saber que el control puede ser una simple ilusión de los sentidos, es el vértigo artístico en su máxima expresión.

Siempre me ha interesado la estética particular y fluida de Alejandra Alarcón, que incluso en performances, objetos y videos logra diluirse. Pero en realidad, lo que evita mi aridez de observadora que hace años no parpadea frente su obra, es hacia dónde sitúa su atención la artista. Ella puede, por ejemplo, mirar historias que todas conocemos, pero mostrarnos sus zonas menos desérticas. Alejandra ubica esas narraciones, les pone una gota de su liquidez encima y a través de esos lentes nos hace ver una serie de verdades posibles y alternativas. Alejandra puede también, mirar su propio cuerpo, su maternidad y elastizarla o desdibujar las líneas que la contienen, como si sus líquidos se fueran a desbordar para no ser más ella, para ser todas o absolutamente nadie.

En el agua se deforma o se refracta el sonido. En el agua se alteran la mayoría de los sentidos. Bajo el deshielo constante que es Alejandra, también se refractan y se deforman las tradiciones. La reescritura es casi un género literario del que poco se habla, mucho menos cuando quien reescribe, no lo hace escribiendo. En reescribir lo “femenino” o lo identitario, siempre hay un conflicto, una urgencia, un peligro y un acierto; probablemente, la conquista del trabajo de Alejandra Alarcón es que logra que las cuatro se tensen al mismo tiempo. Otra razón del funcionamiento de esa reescritura es lo que no estamos viendo, esa imagen que falta –lo que sabemos que va a suceder- de la que habla Pascal Quignard, pero que en ella corresponde más bien al silencio, a la importancia de eso que no se está diciendo, como en la poesía y en la música.

Fuera de lo sensorial y lo formal, lo conceptual de estos dos libros es lo fluido también. Un vehículo de símbolos ultra encriptados: tentáculos, espinas, telarañas, medias ensangrentadas, granadas, lo animal, espejos o más, que habrá que tentar leer en un mar de significancias para aprehender un poco de cada propuesta. O el devenir de las aguas, líquidos amnióticos, lágrimas, sudor, fluidos vaginales y menstruación en movimiento por los conductos corporales, las venas, lagrimales, glándulas y otros. Dos fluidos/vehículos, leche y sangre, indiscutiblemente representativos de humanidad, pero también de las imposiciones sociales construidas para los cuerpos y lo sabemos, lo sabes tú que lees y ves, lo sabe Alejandra y lo sé yo que escribo este texto, que se trata de los cuerpos de las mujeres como territorios invadidos/colonizados/narrados por masculinidades dominantes.

No es gratuita la potencia de una obra de arte cuando carga todo un aparataje de consideraciones políticas transformadoras, de conceptos -me animaría a decir universalizados- que fueron, son y seguirán siendo relevantes. No es gratuita.

Alejandra Alarcón reescribe o narra o revierte o subvierte o trabaja con arte procesos que de forma regular son producidos social y políticamente, como la descolonización o la despatriarcalización. En estos libros que no son libros -y por qué no, en el extenso de su obra en el tiempo- la autora tomó la historia formal, una que sí estaba en libros libros y la reformuló soltándola a la realidad inmediata sin mayores preámbulos.

El agua, esa sustancia. El líquido, ese estado intermedio. El agua, ese líquido, el más usual. El agua recubre el 71% de la superficie tierra. El cuerpo humano está compuesto de un 60% de agua. Filtrar ideas líquidas o de manera líquida es quizá esa estrategia fulminante que tiene el arte y que casi siempre le falta a la política. Y es ese el feminismo/política que suele ser problemático porque no es moda; es más bien una construcción lenta de imágenes, descubrimientos, asociaciones, realidades. Y es ese arte que no usa la política -la política muy pocas veces usa al arte- porque es una deconstrucción personal, lenta, genuina e inalterable que gota a gota va ahuecando la piedra, que gota a gota forma el humedal que amenaza con ser tormenta.

Esto anterior se ve con solidez extraordinaria en ambos, El libro de la leche y El libro de la sangre; pero también en los más de 15 años en los que Alejandra Alarcón hace arte con el agua de su cuerpo, del mundo y de las acuarelas.

Por último, hermanada en ese entrar y salir de libros inexistentes, metiendo y sacando agua, desmontando arquitecturas estructurales, cuestionándose la médula –que no es sólida-, me pregunto: ¿qué es lo siguiente que nos va a inundar Alejandra Alarcón?, ¿la forma de qué recipiente tomará su cuerpo?, ¿hacia qué mar desembocarán todas sus corrientes?, ¿cuándo llegará su siguiente precipitación?

Prepararé la tierra. Esperaré. Germinará vida.

 

 Alejandra Alarcón, a precipitance

An approach to El libro de la Leche and El libro de la sangre

 

Paola R. Senseve T. 

A faceless woman stares at me. Tries to touch me but has no hands. She is out -of focus, of the house-, in the outdoor, under the sun, flying with the wind, her hair. She’s split in two, it is likely she’s not a woman but two. I have a face; I see her, searching. I have hands, I reach out to touch her and feel. Her women wounds are open. What is it, to be a woman? What are these women wounds? That woman has no face but does have a vagina. Her breasts are swollen, liquid streams from them and down to join even more liquid streaming from her motherhood endorsed incision. Is a woman a mother too? Is a mother also a woman? If something occurs within this image is that, all of a sudden, it has flooded me. Now my eyes are immersed in vitreous humor of milk and blood. 

That earlier paragraph is from one of the pieces that make up El libro de la leche and El libro de la Sangre (The Book of Milk and The Book of Blood), both series of the Bolivian artist Alejandra Alarcón. The reaction when observing her work is very similar to a transfusion; liquid quickly transforming until it becomes you; that is, two bodies in one. 

Very often I imagine Alejandra swimming, submerged underwater, because I know this is an activity she practices, but also because I’ve watched her paint. She paints breathing rhythmically, moving perhaps awkwardly to cover the great surfaces with her whole body, as if the air was water. As if the paper was water; and the water was water and her fingers too, were water. Breath, flow. Alejandra Alarcón understands water; she defends and vindicates it as the country she’s decided to inhabit; as her home, her means of transport and communication, food and love. And, as surprising this may be to some -though not me-, as a discursive topic: Alejandra withholds an absolute and constant coherence.

I assume that all the years of constant work anchor her inner self in that of which is liquid by nature, and understands no boundaries; it fights them. And so her work, or the idea/proposal, is not yet finished. The search doesn’t end because it floods and migrates onto other spaces and forms, just as life itself, sometimes difficult to control. If I think about it, that thin distinctive line between needing to control everything in order to create something and knowing that such control could be a mere illusion of all senses, and this is the artistic vertigo in its maximum expression.  

I’ve always been drawn to Alejandra Alarcón’s particular and fluent aesthetics; even in performances, objects and videos, her work manages to dilute itself. However, what prevents my barrenness as an observer that has not blinked in front of her work in years, is actually where the artist, she, places her attention. She can, for example, look at stories we all know, but shows us instead its more desertic regions. Alejandra locates these narratives, adds a drop of her liquidity and through those lenses she shows us a series of plausible and alternatives truths. Alejandra can as well look at her own body, her motherhood, and stretch it far as she un-draws all the lines that contain it, as if her liquid form were about to overflow and stop her from being her no more, to become every one, and no one at all. 

Underwater, sounds are deformed or refracted. In the water most senses are altered. Underneath the constant melting ice that Alejandra is, traditions are also deformed and refracted. Rewriting is almost a genre on its own that no one speaks about, little less when whoever rewrites, does not do so in written form. When rewriting an identity or what is “feminine”, there is always a conflict, and urgency, a danger and an accomplishment; perhaps Alejandra’s work conquest is that she manages to have all four tense up at the same time. Another reason for why this rewriting works is what we are actually not seeing, that missing piece -what we know is about to happen-, what Pascal Quignard talks about, but in her case it corresponds instead to silence, to the importance of what is being said, just like with poetry and music.

Aside from its sensory and formal fluidity, the conceptual approach in these two books also flows easily. A vehicle of ultra encrypted symbols: tentacles, spines, spiderwebs, bloody socks, pomegranates, animality, mirrors and more, to attempt to read in a sea of significance  to learn just a little with each proposal. Or the becoming of all that is water, amniotic liquids, tears, sweat, vaginal fluid and menstruation in movements through the body’s conduits, through its veins, tear glands and others. Two vehicles, milk and blood, indisputably representative of what humanity is, but also of social impositions, created for the body, and we know it; you, reading this know it and see it, Alejandra knows it and I, whilst writing this text know it, that it is about women’s bodies invaded/colonized/narrated by dominant masculinities.

The strength of a work of art is not gratuitous; specially when it carries a whole apparatus of transformative political considerations, of concepts -I’d dare to say universalized- that were, are and will continue to be relevant. It is not gratuitous.

Alejandra Alarcón rewrites, or narrates, or reverts and subverts, or works… with art processes that in a regular way are socially and politically produced, just like decolonization or depatriarchalizing. In these books that are not books -and why not, throughout her entire work- the author took the formal story, one that was in books-books and recreated it by releasing it to immediate reality without further ado.

Water, that substance. Liquid, that intermediate state/form. Water, liquid, the most common. Water covers 71% of the earth’s surface. The human body is made up of 60% of water. Filtering liquid ideas, or in a liquid way, is perhaps that fulminant strategy art has and politics lack. And this is the feminism/politics that usually is problematic because is not fashion; it is, actually more of a slow construction of images, discoveries, associations, realities. And it is that art that politics would not use -actually, politics rarely uses art- because it is a personal, slow, genuine and unaltered deconstruction, drop by drop hollowing the stone; drop by drop forming wetlands that threaten to become a storm. 

This aforementioned can be seeing clearly in both, El libro de la leche en El libro de la Sangre; but it can also be seeing in the more than 15 years that Alejandra Alarcón makes art with her watery body, water of the world and that of watercolors. 

Lastly, and twinned with this entering and exiting of non-existing books, getting water in and out, dismantling structural architectures, questioning herself to the unsolid core, I wonder: what will Alejandra Alarcón flood within us next? What shape will her body take? To which sea will all her currents flow to? When will the next precipitance arrive/be?

I shall prepare the ground. Waiting. Live will germinate.

Translated by Alejandra Estrada 

ARGUCIAS DEL CUERPO NUBE Gallery

"Argucias del cuerpo" no tiene el propósito de generar autorretratos de los artistas, ni especular sobre las identidades de la época, más sino, hacer evidente la profunda crisis en la que está expuesta la necesidad de autodefinición en esta época.

Artistas:

ADRIANA ARANO / ALDAHIR M. FLORES / ALEJANDRA ALARCÓN R. / ALFREDO ROMÁN B. / EFRAÍN ORTUÑO / IVÁN CÁCERES / JOSÉ BALLIVIÁN / JULIO GONZÁLEZ S. / MARÍA EDITH PEREIRA /

WARA CARDOZO

Foto-obra: TELEVIVENCIA 2343065

Inauguración: Jueves 19 de enero.

Hora: 18:00 pm

Lugar: NUBE Gallery. Calle Arenales Nº 315

INGRESO LIBRE + BARBIJO