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SOLO EXHIBITION AT GALERIA LUME, SÃO PAULO

THIS DREAM MAY NEVER HAPPEN

Through paintings, sculptures, installations, works on various supports, the artist Gabriella Garcia reflects on relationships that show the game of opposing pairs: the solid and the ethereal, the volume and the two-dimensional plane, the condensed and the volatile, the past and the present. An unprecedented synthesis of this research will be presented in its first solo show at Galeria Lume.

In the first space of the exhibition, the representation of drapery - movement of fabrics and their folds - in the gaps between paintings and sculptures create abstractions and new perspectives. In the second, located in Lume's central room, everything connects and each work exists through the other, in a room whose walls are painted with mineral pigment. The relationship with the representation and its surroundings remains, and the artist materializes the painting and paints the material through various supports such as minerals, reproductions of classical images in plaster, canvases, silks and marble.


The artist brings to the public 29 works, paintings, installations and sculptures, loaded with symbols from the history of classical art, and in which she shares her questions and reflections on the hegemonic thinking that hovered in previous centuries. At the beginning of his career, his artistic process brought the use of collage as a driving force and today it carries its influences, as well as the scenic arts. Not by chance, the exhibition is organized in two acts and, open to multiple readings, has different and complementary perspectives in critical texts signed by four curators: Carollina Lauriano, Guilherme Teixeira, Ode and Paulo Kassab Jr.


“Through the plaster and marble link, studies on the balance of stones and objects and painting, profane materials and others with dignified representative brilliance; as well as mimicry and the process of making motion static, Garcia aims to demonstrate how the denial use of taxonomic models such as archetypes, catalogs, lists and indexes, simultaneously with liquid properties such as astronomy, astrology, dreams and memory, can be realized in a way rhythmic and yet ironic”, reflects the independent writer and curator Ode in her text.


Gabriella Garcia elaborates a set of paintings and sculptures that deal, at first, with the idea of ​​gestures and the making of the art object. For Carollina Lauriano, researcher and independent curator, the artist uses what is most academic and classic in art - whether in materiality or support - to justify an official story that has already been given. “When we observe the theatricality employed in her works, we begin to realize that every gesture there may be being staged, and that the layers can hide nuances that the eyes cannot see. As in the Renaissance ideal, the artist creates objects that keep 'regrets' in them”, says Lauriano. This idea is complemented by an excerpt from the text signed by curator Guilherme Teixeira: “There is a place here where the image allows itself to fail, and it is because of its insufficiency in relation to the will of the species that something leaks out”.

Based on her work, Gabriella Garcia proclaims that there is no single narrative, but that the history of art must be constantly re-signified. “Open to multiple reinterpretations, the exhibition allows us to release the critical spirit in the light of imagination and awaken to a reading of a multiform world”, concludes Paulo Kassab Jr.

FIRST ACT | CISCO | GUILHERME TEIXEIRA 

Before being images, we were names: names responsible for assuming that we are progeny, remnants of stone stuck in the throat or the results of the dust that flows from the lining finish, lungs that have been tearing the earth for a thousand years and two minutes - from the Caucasus to Araripina in Pernambuco, claiming the possibility of naming.

 

Before we were images, we were names, and amalgamated things turned into words in a thousand languages. Powdered not only in matter but in the sense of what leaks from all mouths with their ideas and representations of species that do not know how to contain their own lexicon on their lips. We kiss the name's forehead in search of pouring an image into the world through an enunciation. There is a place here where the image allows itself to fail, and it is because of its insufficiency in relation to the species' will that something leaks out.

 

Before being images, we were names and also the only solid perspective of the immense desires to represent the species - at first - and the idea of a Greek thing that runs through a ceiling and breaks and diffuses light, emulating steps, volumes, control - in a second moment; guiltless particles, agents of a violence that did not belong to us.

 

Before we became images, we were already damned outgoing names, relegated to the walls of the lungs, to the rest of saints that would break on the ground, to the color that took over the streets of every city every four years, and to the way in which mountains forgot to cry while we made them a reason for heaven: and it is under the agglomerations of a thousand of us that the righteous lull their sleep through capitals.

 

Before being images, we were names, ore, geography, and choking. Before being images, we were names and violence to ourselves and to a thousand others; we were the failure of organs, the representations that form inside the cockroaches, and the reflection of everything, and here

 

we are, stained with time, bastions of the zeal of a species, and before being images, we are names.

SECOND ACT | HISTORY, FARSE, REPETITION | CAROLLINA LAURIANO 

Before being images, we were names: names responsible for assuming that we are progeny, remnants of stone stuck in the throat or the results of the dust that flows from the lining finish, lungs that have been tearing the earth for a thousand years and two minutes - from the Caucasus to Araripina in Pernambuco, claiming the possibility of naming.

 

Before we were images, we were names, and amalgamated things turned into words in a thousand languages. Powdered not only in matter but in the sense of what leaks from all mouths with their ideas and representations of species that do not know how to contain their own lexicon on their lips. We kiss the name's forehead in search of pouring an image into the world through an enunciation. There is a place here where the image allows itself to fail, and it is because of its insufficiency in relation to the species' will that something leaks out.

 

Before being images, we were names and also the only solid perspective of the immense desires to represent the species - at first - and the idea of a Greek thing that runs through a ceiling and breaks and diffuses light, emulating steps, volumes, control - in a second moment; guiltless particles, agents of a violence that did not belong to us.

 

Before we became images, we were already damned outgoing names, relegated to the walls of the lungs, to the rest of saints that would break on the ground, to the color that took over the streets of every city every four years, and to the way in which mountains forgot to cry while we made them a reason for heaven: and it is under the agglomerations of a thousand of us that the righteous lull their sleep through capitals.

 

Before being images, we were names, ore, geography, and choking. Before being images, we were names and violence to ourselves and to a thousand others; we were the failure of organs, the representations that form inside the cockroaches, and the reflection of everything, and here

 

we are, stained with time, bastions of the zeal of a species, and before being images, we are names.

THIRD ACT | CLAIMING USELESSNESS AS A STRATEGIC TOOL | ODE 

In the calculations of Legacy Russell, American curator and writer, author of Glitch Feminism: A Manifesto (2020), the concept of glitch -that is, of “failure”- can mediate feminist poetics in virtualities as a metaphor, tool, and revolutionary attitude. In synchronous mode and starting at the same time as the beginning of the world-system to which we are now allocated, much is discussed and is organized under the formulation of value — a concept that -once crystallized- belongs to abstract concepts such as reality, being, existence, among others that do not contain a proper definition; therefore we can only try to illuminate the sense of value, not define it.

 

Thus, value is not absolute quality. Value is the relative quality of a material to be valued, which suggests the establishment of relationships between it and the human being; consequently, between this and the organizational and cognitive system of society. Gabriella Garcia, then, by using the premise that objectivity is always a minimum of subjectivity, invites us to shift our attention to the decay of any human classification system, building non-binary taxonomies that influence the body of works to be observed.

 

Thus, the harmonious pigments, drapes, and stacks hide a barricade: instead of ordering, they accentuate the chaotic and inextricable character of the yearning for what may come to be valued as organization and delight. Through the link of plaster and marble, studies on the balance of stones and objects and painting, profane materials and others with proper representative pride; as well as mimicry and the process of making motion static, Garcia aims to demonstrate how the negationist use of taxonomic models such as archetypes, catalogs, lists, and indexes, simultaneously with liquid properties such as astronomy, astrology, dreams, and memory, can be performed rhythmically and yet ironically.

 

A great number of traditional values, even the notion of reality, have their value called into question in the world today, and education for a sense of value and disvalue acquires a stiffened importance. In this way, the artist manifests through her own cosmogony, sometimes vulgar, a new diagram of values. Despite the relativistic field of art in which she is currently inserted, Gabriella Garcia is also eager to try to establish some basic principles that contribute to the construction of an imaginative and intersensory sphere — whose complexity is related to the determining factor in the experience of most human beings: the dream.

 

Being this one her analysis and assimilation tool, the effect of fluctuations in social and individual conditions, such as basic cultural ones, are not forgotten. In view of the subjectivity of Gabriella's world being omnipresent in the world of her artistic production, the historiography of hegemonic art in general, which carry a millenary art tradition and may have value, do not necessarily have value in the same way for the artist: a man's bust made of plaster and admittedly bought ready-made without shame, for example, is crushed by a stone in an exercise of stacking, balancing, and linear tonal propositions.

 

Finally, signs have values, always and exclusively, for human beings of a certain time or a certain cultural circle. They are enclosed in these values because the senses of visual communication fulfill certain functions. Signs cause pleasure, comfort, enjoyment, or even benefits and gains, by satisfying certain needs, as they are somehow useful to humans. However, there are no norms, nor formulas, nor rules that can deprogram the obsolescence of a body of art in which the power of imagination is not experienced. In view of this, in the dream created by Gabriella Garcia, uselessness is claimed as a strategic tool.

 

 

Of what?

FOURTH ACT | WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME? | PAULO KASSAB 

The research program proposed by Aby Warburg, a scholar of Renaissance art, to which many other researchers have dedicated themselves, defined images as symbols that form a collective memory that circulates through time, reactivating and modifying themselves by their insertion in specific historical moments. The past survives in the present as a temporality that is never effectively concluded. A widespread example is the re-reading of classical antiquity precepts in Renaissance art, more than a thousand years later.

In her first solo exhibition at Galeria Lume, the set of canvases and sculptures by Gabriella Garcia reveal themselves in almost theatrical constructions, governed with harmonic mastery. The allusions are clear. We could be in an unfinished scenario by Da Vinci, Michelangelo, or Caravaggio, in which the bodies disappeared. All that remains is the imaginary drawn by vesture, sculptures, and installations which, in the context of contemporary art, take on architectural forms and organic surfaces that evoke the idea of a society with a dystopian character. But what is this place where the vestures that run around the body of Pietá, or those that cover the bust of Monalisa, are protagonists over the bodies?

A possible interpretation arises in the sculpture in which a copy of the face of a Greek goddess (Athens?) is compressed by stones: “We are not that strong.” The deity of intelligence, wisdom, and arts is subdued. By chance?

Let's go back to Ancient Greece. In Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, spinning and weaving are purely female tasks. Not only does Penelope devote herself incessantly to the task, but countless female characters are portrayed performing this type of domestic craft. In a sexist society in which women were continually silenced, weaving was one of the few ways they had to communicate. Many myths address the power of pictorial communication of the robes and vestures produced by women. One of the most relevant tells the story of Philomela who, after being raped and having her tongue cut out by her brother-in-law, Tereus, embroiders what happened on a piece of cloth, which she presents to her sister, Procne, who understands the message and takes revenge on the husband.


The draped canvas covered in gray paint screams to the stories of the past: “How heavy is your conscience?”

In the exhibition “This dream can never happen,” Gabriella Garcia exposes her works to different interpretations. Not by chance, she invited four people from different backgrounds to describe what they saw. Thus, based on her own work, she proclaims: there is not a single narrative, a truth. Art history must be constantly re-signified.

Philosopher Gaston Bachelard writes: “You dream before you contemplate. Before being a spectacle, every landscape is a dreamlike experience.” Thus, the space of dreams has a veil as its background, a veil that illuminates itself in rare moments. Open to multiple reinterpretations, the exhibition allows us to release a critical spirit in the light of imagination and awaken to a reading of a multiform world.