In 2001, Carmela Gross was invited to participate in an educational project created by Sesc/Senac for television. It was a program composed of a series of visits to artist’s studios in order to reveal the routine of these spaces.
At the same time, similar projects were developed by other institutions focusing on languages such as dance and theater; moreover, these projects were also intended to bring the audience closer to the artist’s creative universe.
For Carmela, the proposal sounded like “a staging of art making”, where the artist “would appear as a false character of herself”. This perception becomes quite understandable in the case of an artist who has maintained a daily work routine in the studio since the 1960s, when her works began to be exhibited regularly.
Not satisfied with the proposal, Carmela’s counter-proposal was to create a situation in which it was possible to document a “real work” that showed her practice “in real time, covering questions, errors and successes, deviations and improvisations.”
This was how the first version of “Escuta” appeared. To create the work, Carmela and three assistants covered the entire interior of the studio with kraft paper. After three days of assembly accompanied by a video camera, the studio became an “ocher capsule, illuminated by the filtered light from the windows and skylights …; almost a landscape of deserts, mountains and imaginary mountain ranges”.
Escuta was born from Carmela’s desire to subvert an external demand, a fetishization of art making. Her body then imposes itself and, in a sort of long-term performance, takes on the attitude of revealing, through covering-up, the private universe of her studio. The challenge was to create a form of visibility that would overcome the dichotomy between the action/event and the built space.
If the initial proposal of the project was to replace the fourth wall of her studio with a camera, the artist subverts it and transforms the space into an enigma, constituted by an imbricated set of pragmatic and conceptual choices, and by the exchanges with her collaborators.
To the initial proposal of mass communication, Carmela responds with a two-way action – permanent and temporary, and which reception is always relative: listen to see, see to listen.
“Escuta III” (2020), by Carmela Gross with the collaboration of Abraão Reis, Carolina Caliento, Fabio Audi and Osmar Zampieri, is part of Galeria Vermelho’s program “aqui, daqui (here, hence)”, created for the period of social distancing.
In 2001, Carmela Gross was invited to participate in an educational project created by Sesc/Senac for television. It was a program composed of a series of visits to artist’s studios in order to reveal the routine of these spaces.
At the same time, similar projects were developed by other institutions focusing on languages such as dance and theater; moreover, these projects were also intended to bring the audience closer to the artist’s creative universe.
For Carmela, the proposal sounded like “a staging of art making”, where the artist “would appear as a false character of herself”. This perception becomes quite understandable in the case of an artist who has maintained a daily work routine in the studio since the 1960s, when her works began to be exhibited regularly.
Not satisfied with the proposal, Carmela’s counter-proposal was to create a situation in which it was possible to document a “real work” that showed her practice “in real time, covering questions, errors and successes, deviations and improvisations.”
This was how the first version of “Escuta” appeared. To create the work, Carmela and three assistants covered the entire interior of the studio with kraft paper. After three days of assembly accompanied by a video camera, the studio became an “ocher capsule, illuminated by the filtered light from the windows and skylights …; almost a landscape of deserts, mountains and imaginary mountain ranges”.
Escuta was born from Carmela’s desire to subvert an external demand, a fetishization of art making. Her body then imposes itself and, in a sort of long-term performance, takes on the attitude of revealing, through covering-up, the private universe of her studio. The challenge was to create a form of visibility that would overcome the dichotomy between the action/event and the built space.
If the initial proposal of the project was to replace the fourth wall of her studio with a camera, the artist subverts it and transforms the space into an enigma, constituted by an imbricated set of pragmatic and conceptual choices, and by the exchanges with her collaborators.
To the initial proposal of mass communication, Carmela responds with a two-way action – permanent and temporary, and which reception is always relative: listen to see, see to listen.
“Escuta III” (2020), by Carmela Gross with the collaboration of Abraão Reis, Carolina Caliento, Fabio Audi and Osmar Zampieri, is part of Galeria Vermelho’s program “aqui, daqui (here, hence)”, created for the period of social distancing.
In 2001, Carmela Gross was invited to participate in an educational project created by Sesc/Senac for television. It was a program composed of a series of visits to artist’s studios in order to reveal the routine of these spaces.
At the same time, similar projects were developed by other institutions focusing on languages such as dance and theater; moreover, these projects were also intended to bring the audience closer to the artist’s creative universe.
For Carmela, the proposal sounded like “a staging of art making”, where the artist “would appear as a false character of herself”. This perception becomes quite understandable in the case of an artist who has maintained a daily work routine in the studio since the 1960s, when her works began to be exhibited regularly.
Not satisfied with the proposal, Carmela’s counter-proposal was to create a situation in which it was possible to document a “real work” that showed her practice “in real time, covering questions, errors and successes, deviations and improvisations.”
This was how the first version of “Escuta” appeared. To create the work, Carmela and three assistants covered the entire interior of the studio with kraft paper. After three days of assembly accompanied by a video camera, the studio became an “ocher capsule, illuminated by the filtered light from the windows and skylights …; almost a landscape of deserts, mountains and imaginary mountain ranges”.
Escuta was born from Carmela’s desire to subvert an external demand, a fetishization of art making. Her body then imposes itself and, in a sort of long-term performance, takes on the attitude of revealing, through covering-up, the private universe of her studio. The challenge was to create a form of visibility that would overcome the dichotomy between the action/event and the built space.
If the initial proposal of the project was to replace the fourth wall of her studio with a camera, the artist subverts it and transforms the space into an enigma, constituted by an imbricated set of pragmatic and conceptual choices, and by the exchanges with her collaborators.
To the initial proposal of mass communication, Carmela responds with a two-way action – permanent and temporary, and which reception is always relative: listen to see, see to listen.
“Escuta III” (2020), by Carmela Gross with the collaboration of Abraão Reis, Carolina Caliento, Fabio Audi and Osmar Zampieri, is part of Galeria Vermelho’s program “aqui, daqui (here, hence)”, created for the period of social distancing.
In 2001, Carmela Gross was invited to participate in an educational project created by Sesc/Senac for television. It was a program composed of a series of visits to artist’s studios in order to reveal the routine of these spaces.
At the same time, similar projects were developed by other institutions focusing on languages such as dance and theater; moreover, these projects were also intended to bring the audience closer to the artist’s creative universe.
For Carmela, the proposal sounded like “a staging of art making”, where the artist “would appear as a false character of herself”. This perception becomes quite understandable in the case of an artist who has maintained a daily work routine in the studio since the 1960s, when her works began to be exhibited regularly.
Not satisfied with the proposal, Carmela’s counter-proposal was to create a situation in which it was possible to document a “real work” that showed her practice “in real time, covering questions, errors and successes, deviations and improvisations.”
This was how the first version of “Escuta” appeared. To create the work, Carmela and three assistants covered the entire interior of the studio with kraft paper. After three days of assembly accompanied by a video camera, the studio became an “ocher capsule, illuminated by the filtered light from the windows and skylights …; almost a landscape of deserts, mountains and imaginary mountain ranges”.
Escuta was born from Carmela’s desire to subvert an external demand, a fetishization of art making. Her body then imposes itself and, in a sort of long-term performance, takes on the attitude of revealing, through covering-up, the private universe of her studio. The challenge was to create a form of visibility that would overcome the dichotomy between the action/event and the built space.
If the initial proposal of the project was to replace the fourth wall of her studio with a camera, the artist subverts it and transforms the space into an enigma, constituted by an imbricated set of pragmatic and conceptual choices, and by the exchanges with her collaborators.
To the initial proposal of mass communication, Carmela responds with a two-way action – permanent and temporary, and which reception is always relative: listen to see, see to listen.
“Escuta III” (2020), by Carmela Gross with the collaboration of Abraão Reis, Carolina Caliento, Fabio Audi and Osmar Zampieri, is part of Galeria Vermelho’s program “aqui, daqui (here, hence)”, created for the period of social distancing.
In 2001, Carmela Gross was invited to participate in an educational project created by Sesc/Senac for television. It was a program composed of a series of visits to artist’s studios in order to reveal the routine of these spaces.
At the same time, similar projects were developed by other institutions focusing on languages such as dance and theater; moreover, these projects were also intended to bring the audience closer to the artist’s creative universe.
For Carmela, the proposal sounded like “a staging of art making”, where the artist “would appear as a false character of herself”. This perception becomes quite understandable in the case of an artist who has maintained a daily work routine in the studio since the 1960s, when her works began to be exhibited regularly.
Not satisfied with the proposal, Carmela’s counter-proposal was to create a situation in which it was possible to document a “real work” that showed her practice “in real time, covering questions, errors and successes, deviations and improvisations.”
This was how the first version of “Escuta” appeared. To create the work, Carmela and three assistants covered the entire interior of the studio with kraft paper. After three days of assembly accompanied by a video camera, the studio became an “ocher capsule, illuminated by the filtered light from the windows and skylights …; almost a landscape of deserts, mountains and imaginary mountain ranges”.
Escuta was born from Carmela’s desire to subvert an external demand, a fetishization of art making. Her body then imposes itself and, in a sort of long-term performance, takes on the attitude of revealing, through covering-up, the private universe of her studio. The challenge was to create a form of visibility that would overcome the dichotomy between the action/event and the built space.
If the initial proposal of the project was to replace the fourth wall of her studio with a camera, the artist subverts it and transforms the space into an enigma, constituted by an imbricated set of pragmatic and conceptual choices, and by the exchanges with her collaborators.
To the initial proposal of mass communication, Carmela responds with a two-way action – permanent and temporary, and which reception is always relative: listen to see, see to listen.
“Escuta III” (2020), by Carmela Gross with the collaboration of Abraão Reis, Carolina Caliento, Fabio Audi and Osmar Zampieri, is part of Galeria Vermelho’s program “aqui, daqui (here, hence)”, created for the period of social distancing.
In 2001, Carmela Gross was invited to participate in an educational project created by Sesc/Senac for television. It was a program composed of a series of visits to artist’s studios in order to reveal the routine of these spaces.
At the same time, similar projects were developed by other institutions focusing on languages such as dance and theater; moreover, these projects were also intended to bring the audience closer to the artist’s creative universe.
For Carmela, the proposal sounded like “a staging of art making”, where the artist “would appear as a false character of herself”. This perception becomes quite understandable in the case of an artist who has maintained a daily work routine in the studio since the 1960s, when her works began to be exhibited regularly.
Not satisfied with the proposal, Carmela’s counter-proposal was to create a situation in which it was possible to document a “real work” that showed her practice “in real time, covering questions, errors and successes, deviations and improvisations.”
This was how the first version of “Escuta” appeared. To create the work, Carmela and three assistants covered the entire interior of the studio with kraft paper. After three days of assembly accompanied by a video camera, the studio became an “ocher capsule, illuminated by the filtered light from the windows and skylights …; almost a landscape of deserts, mountains and imaginary mountain ranges”.
Escuta was born from Carmela’s desire to subvert an external demand, a fetishization of art making. Her body then imposes itself and, in a sort of long-term performance, takes on the attitude of revealing, through covering-up, the private universe of her studio. The challenge was to create a form of visibility that would overcome the dichotomy between the action/event and the built space.
If the initial proposal of the project was to replace the fourth wall of her studio with a camera, the artist subverts it and transforms the space into an enigma, constituted by an imbricated set of pragmatic and conceptual choices, and by the exchanges with her collaborators.
To the initial proposal of mass communication, Carmela responds with a two-way action – permanent and temporary, and which reception is always relative: listen to see, see to listen.
“Escuta III” (2020), by Carmela Gross with the collaboration of Abraão Reis, Carolina Caliento, Fabio Audi and Osmar Zampieri, is part of Galeria Vermelho’s program “aqui, daqui (here, hence)”, created for the period of social distancing.
In 2001, Carmela Gross was invited to participate in an educational project created by Sesc/Senac for television. It was a program composed of a series of visits to artist’s studios in order to reveal the routine of these spaces.
At the same time, similar projects were developed by other institutions focusing on languages such as dance and theater; moreover, these projects were also intended to bring the audience closer to the artist’s creative universe.
For Carmela, the proposal sounded like “a staging of art making”, where the artist “would appear as a false character of herself”. This perception becomes quite understandable in the case of an artist who has maintained a daily work routine in the studio since the 1960s, when her works began to be exhibited regularly.
Not satisfied with the proposal, Carmela’s counter-proposal was to create a situation in which it was possible to document a “real work” that showed her practice “in real time, covering questions, errors and successes, deviations and improvisations.”
This was how the first version of “Escuta” appeared. To create the work, Carmela and three assistants covered the entire interior of the studio with kraft paper. After three days of assembly accompanied by a video camera, the studio became an “ocher capsule, illuminated by the filtered light from the windows and skylights …; almost a landscape of deserts, mountains and imaginary mountain ranges”.
Escuta was born from Carmela’s desire to subvert an external demand, a fetishization of art making. Her body then imposes itself and, in a sort of long-term performance, takes on the attitude of revealing, through covering-up, the private universe of her studio. The challenge was to create a form of visibility that would overcome the dichotomy between the action/event and the built space.
If the initial proposal of the project was to replace the fourth wall of her studio with a camera, the artist subverts it and transforms the space into an enigma, constituted by an imbricated set of pragmatic and conceptual choices, and by the exchanges with her collaborators.
To the initial proposal of mass communication, Carmela responds with a two-way action – permanent and temporary, and which reception is always relative: listen to see, see to listen.
“Escuta III” (2020), by Carmela Gross with the collaboration of Abraão Reis, Carolina Caliento, Fabio Audi and Osmar Zampieri, is part of Galeria Vermelho’s program “aqui, daqui (here, hence)”, created for the period of social distancing.
The project Achados e Perdidos (Lost and Found) departs from a collection of speedos forgotten in the changing rooms of swimming clubs in Recife, Pernambuco, being collected by Jonathas de Andrade over the past 10 years. With the growing collection, the artist began to order bodies sculpted in clay in natural size from several artisans in the city of Tracunhaém, in Pernambuco, initiating a dialogue that permeates the representation of the body, popular art, masculinity and the tradition of popular and modern sculpture.
The city of Tracunhaém is an hour from Recife, and is known as the clay and pottery region. The city’s various artisans dedicate themselves to the tradition of sculpture and to the serial production of classic pieces from Northeastern culture: from traditional clay filters to small and large-scale saints; from plant pots to stoves and building bricks. Each artisan, family or group of artisans usually dedicates himself to a typology of pieces. There are those who turn their energy to the making of small sculptures of figures portrayed in everyday scenes from the Northeastern hinterland, others give life to the clay with scenes from the rural maracatu, an Afro-Brazilian musical and performance genre which is so strong in the region, or those who make more pieces in the potter’s wheel.
The artist’s request established an improbable conversation about the representation of the male body in a clay sculpture, since it is a specific theme that had never been developed by any of them. With this, the dialogue opened a peculiar negotiation about the form, movement, and volume of the pieces, requesting the repertoire of each of the artisans, and challenging the limits of their techniques.
The result of this dialogue can be seen in the material aspect of the sculptures. They carry spontaneous cracks, intentional openings, fire stains and the trail of hand gestures in the clay. While traditional pieces usually have openings for the oven to burn the clay inside and out, the artist’s request led to solid pieces, with little burning inside. The cracks, formed by the attempt of the heat to escape from the interior of the pieces during the burning, along the commissions were being replaced by holes experienced in different sizes by the artisans, and that became a characteristic of the series.
The artist ordered pieces from 7 artisans: Nando Garcia, Leonardo Nascimento, Ivanildo de Tracunhaém, Nielson de Tracunhaém, Dinho de Zezinho and his team, Robson Coragem and Bruno Rafael. Over three years, the project Achados e perdidos has accumulated more than 100 pieces, where one can observe the variation in responses and styles of the various artisan-sculptors, as well as the development of the techniques used over time.
The exhibition at Vermelho, the first set-up of the project, was divided into a large installation in the gallery’s main room, entitled Lost and Found; two sets called Groups; a series of sculptures composed of two pieces each, with the title Groupings; and six individual pieces that are shown both on the floor and on pedestals, and which are titled Body. The installation runs until December 5, 2020, and occupies the gallery’s entire main building.
Who doesn’t recall, as a child, taking advantage of the lonely minutes in bed, before falling asleep, creating with ones hands and fingers images of ghosts and winged beings on the bedroom wall? With this playful activity, we invented our dreamworld. Phantasmagories that will never be forgotten.
“Relicário” (2020), installation that Leandro Lima (1976) presents in Vermelho’s white cube, uses a clay vase, a filtered light source and the gallery wall as a projection surface. The light passing through the filter superimposes the silhouette of a plant on the leftover of the vase. A familiar image but without materiality, like the ghost of something that is not there.
Hence, we ask ourselves what constitutes absence and what consitutes completeness in “Relicário”? It is certainly not the lack of, or excess of materialities, but precisely the question that the work establishes.
The representation of absence always implies its opposite: presence. Genuine emptiness is not viable simply because it is not possible in a world full of things. In “Relicário”, Lima dedicates himself to occupy the peripheral space, leaving the central area to be inhabited by a form of dialogue.
In the installation, the notion of absence, literally, reveals much more than what an object could possibly reveal. The effect of this absence in the observer’s mind can cause a kind of anxiety: like the one we experience when familiar things are displaced or not fulfilling their usual role. Watching this optical effect and illusion might cause anxiety, but what is totally mysterious is, at the same time, a psychic relief.
When faced with the installation, confirmation arises that the absence in its literal state cannot exist as the property of a work of art, as, as in the world, in art, there are no neutral surfaces or discoures. A space is never empty; as long as the human eye is looking, there will always be something to see.
Art is a technique to attract attention. The eye scans the environment, naming it, making a limited selection of things that then becomes consciousness, a signifier, pleasurable, complex or not. Lima’s “Relicário” suggests new demands for the gaze. Before being an invitation to look, the installation engenders the look.
Traditionally, the effects of a work of art are unevenly distributed in order to induce a certain sequence of experiences in the viewer. “Relicário” does not require the observer to assign meaning or sympathy; on the contrary, it requires that the viewer adds nothing but remains open to a multiplicity of experiences and consequent dialogues.
Throughout history, mankind has continued trying to reinvent the project of transcendence. In contemporaneity, one of the most effective representations of the spiritual project is art. Painting, music, poetry or dance have become the stage where, as in a shadow theater, dramas that beguile the human conscience are played out.
Who doesn’t recall, as a child, taking advantage of the lonely minutes in bed, before falling asleep, creating with ones hands and fingers images of ghosts and winged beings on the bedroom wall? With this playful activity, we invented our dreamworld. Phantasmagories that will never be forgotten.
“Relicário” (2020), installation that Leandro Lima (1976) presents in Vermelho’s white cube, uses a clay vase, a filtered light source and the gallery wall as a projection surface. The light passing through the filter superimposes the silhouette of a plant on the leftover of the vase. A familiar image but without materiality, like the ghost of something that is not there.
Hence, we ask ourselves what constitutes absence and what consitutes completeness in “Relicário”? It is certainly not the lack of, or excess of materialities, but precisely the question that the work establishes.
The representation of absence always implies its opposite: presence. Genuine emptiness is not viable simply because it is not possible in a world full of things. In “Relicário”, Lima dedicates himself to occupy the peripheral space, leaving the central area to be inhabited by a form of dialogue.
In the installation, the notion of absence, literally, reveals much more than what an object could possibly reveal. The effect of this absence in the observer’s mind can cause a kind of anxiety: like the one we experience when familiar things are displaced or not fulfilling their usual role. Watching this optical effect and illusion might cause anxiety, but what is totally mysterious is, at the same time, a psychic relief.
When faced with the installation, confirmation arises that the absence in its literal state cannot exist as the property of a work of art, as, as in the world, in art, there are no neutral surfaces or discoures. A space is never empty; as long as the human eye is looking, there will always be something to see.
Art is a technique to attract attention. The eye scans the environment, naming it, making a limited selection of things that then becomes consciousness, a signifier, pleasurable, complex or not. Lima’s “Relicário” suggests new demands for the gaze. Before being an invitation to look, the installation engenders the look.
Traditionally, the effects of a work of art are unevenly distributed in order to induce a certain sequence of experiences in the viewer. “Relicário” does not require the observer to assign meaning or sympathy; on the contrary, it requires that the viewer adds nothing but remains open to a multiplicity of experiences and consequent dialogues.
Throughout history, mankind has continued trying to reinvent the project of transcendence. In contemporaneity, one of the most effective representations of the spiritual project is art. Painting, music, poetry or dance have become the stage where, as in a shadow theater, dramas that beguile the human conscience are played out.
Who doesn’t recall, as a child, taking advantage of the lonely minutes in bed, before falling asleep, creating with ones hands and fingers images of ghosts and winged beings on the bedroom wall? With this playful activity, we invented our dreamworld. Phantasmagories that will never be forgotten.
“Relicário” (2020), installation that Leandro Lima (1976) presents in Vermelho’s white cube, uses a clay vase, a filtered light source and the gallery wall as a projection surface. The light passing through the filter superimposes the silhouette of a plant on the leftover of the vase. A familiar image but without materiality, like the ghost of something that is not there.
Hence, we ask ourselves what constitutes absence and what consitutes completeness in “Relicário”? It is certainly not the lack of, or excess of materialities, but precisely the question that the work establishes.
The representation of absence always implies its opposite: presence. Genuine emptiness is not viable simply because it is not possible in a world full of things. In “Relicário”, Lima dedicates himself to occupy the peripheral space, leaving the central area to be inhabited by a form of dialogue.
In the installation, the notion of absence, literally, reveals much more than what an object could possibly reveal. The effect of this absence in the observer’s mind can cause a kind of anxiety: like the one we experience when familiar things are displaced or not fulfilling their usual role. Watching this optical effect and illusion might cause anxiety, but what is totally mysterious is, at the same time, a psychic relief.
When faced with the installation, confirmation arises that the absence in its literal state cannot exist as the property of a work of art, as, as in the world, in art, there are no neutral surfaces or discoures. A space is never empty; as long as the human eye is looking, there will always be something to see.
Art is a technique to attract attention. The eye scans the environment, naming it, making a limited selection of things that then becomes consciousness, a signifier, pleasurable, complex or not. Lima’s “Relicário” suggests new demands for the gaze. Before being an invitation to look, the installation engenders the look.
Traditionally, the effects of a work of art are unevenly distributed in order to induce a certain sequence of experiences in the viewer. “Relicário” does not require the observer to assign meaning or sympathy; on the contrary, it requires that the viewer adds nothing but remains open to a multiplicity of experiences and consequent dialogues.
Throughout history, mankind has continued trying to reinvent the project of transcendence. In contemporaneity, one of the most effective representations of the spiritual project is art. Painting, music, poetry or dance have become the stage where, as in a shadow theater, dramas that beguile the human conscience are played out.
The world consists of images that affect and are affected by their surroundings. Such a view is defined by the movement of action and reaction. For example, consider rain falling on a white wall. The moisture of the rain softens the paint and the cement layers of the wall while, at the same time, the wall interupts the flow of the rainwater. The materials that make up the wall and its action and reaction to the rain become both (wall and water) sediment and erosion: a stone thrown on the surface of a lake.
In 2014, Henrique César presented the action “O informante (The Informant)” in Vermelho’s Room 2. During 26 consecutive days, the artist used a thermohygograph to simultaneously record the temperatura and relative humidity of the air in the room. The thermohygograph is an instrument used to measure air humidity as a way to control natural wear and tear due to climatic variations.
Printing the information provided by the instrument on sheets of squared paper and presenting them sequentially, side by side, on the wall of the exhibition space, the thermohygograph worked in “O informante (The informant)”, as a tool for materializing the invisible and the immaterial.
The physical materialization of this information seems to have finally broken the aseptic environment of the white cube and gained visuality in the mural painting “Infiltração (Infiltration)”, 2020 that César presents. The painting imitates marks of moisture resulting from leaks that become visible when the inner layer of the wall is already corrupted.
In his research, Henrique César (1987) seeks to understand how the body relates to the absence of materiality, giving form to apparently invisible forces revealed in drawings, paintings, vídeos and objects, using elements from the exact and biochemical sciences. His interest is not only focused on the power of the unknown or its effects, but also on the hidden forces that “surround, interrupt and invade bodies”. How these forces act and how the reaction or resistance to them relate to the current social and political context, is up to the viewer to elaborate.
The world consists of images that affect and are affected by their surroundings. Such a view is defined by the movement of action and reaction. For example, consider rain falling on a white wall. The moisture of the rain softens the paint and the cement layers of the wall while, at the same time, the wall interupts the flow of the rainwater. The materials that make up the wall and its action and reaction to the rain become both (wall and water) sediment and erosion: a stone thrown on the surface of a lake.
In 2014, Henrique César presented the action “O informante (The Informant)” in Vermelho’s Room 2. During 26 consecutive days, the artist used a thermohygograph to simultaneously record the temperatura and relative humidity of the air in the room. The thermohygograph is an instrument used to measure air humidity as a way to control natural wear and tear due to climatic variations.
Printing the information provided by the instrument on sheets of squared paper and presenting them sequentially, side by side, on the wall of the exhibition space, the thermohygograph worked in “O informante (The informant)”, as a tool for materializing the invisible and the immaterial.
The physical materialization of this information seems to have finally broken the aseptic environment of the white cube and gained visuality in the mural painting “Infiltração (Infiltration)”, 2020 that César presents. The painting imitates marks of moisture resulting from leaks that become visible when the inner layer of the wall is already corrupted.
In his research, Henrique César (1987) seeks to understand how the body relates to the absence of materiality, giving form to apparently invisible forces revealed in drawings, paintings, vídeos and objects, using elements from the exact and biochemical sciences. His interest is not only focused on the power of the unknown or its effects, but also on the hidden forces that “surround, interrupt and invade bodies”. How these forces act and how the reaction or resistance to them relate to the current social and political context, is up to the viewer to elaborate.
The world consists of images that affect and are affected by their surroundings. Such a view is defined by the movement of action and reaction. For example, consider rain falling on a white wall. The moisture of the rain softens the paint and the cement layers of the wall while, at the same time, the wall interupts the flow of the rainwater. The materials that make up the wall and its action and reaction to the rain become both (wall and water) sediment and erosion: a stone thrown on the surface of a lake.
In 2014, Henrique César presented the action “O informante (The Informant)” in Vermelho’s Room 2. During 26 consecutive days, the artist used a thermohygograph to simultaneously record the temperatura and relative humidity of the air in the room. The thermohygograph is an instrument used to measure air humidity as a way to control natural wear and tear due to climatic variations.
Printing the information provided by the instrument on sheets of squared paper and presenting them sequentially, side by side, on the wall of the exhibition space, the thermohygograph worked in “O informante (The informant)”, as a tool for materializing the invisible and the immaterial.
The physical materialization of this information seems to have finally broken the aseptic environment of the white cube and gained visuality in the mural painting “Infiltração (Infiltration)”, 2020 that César presents. The painting imitates marks of moisture resulting from leaks that become visible when the inner layer of the wall is already corrupted.
In his research, Henrique César (1987) seeks to understand how the body relates to the absence of materiality, giving form to apparently invisible forces revealed in drawings, paintings, vídeos and objects, using elements from the exact and biochemical sciences. His interest is not only focused on the power of the unknown or its effects, but also on the hidden forces that “surround, interrupt and invade bodies”. How these forces act and how the reaction or resistance to them relate to the current social and political context, is up to the viewer to elaborate.
The world consists of images that affect and are affected by their surroundings. Such a view is defined by the movement of action and reaction. For example, consider rain falling on a white wall. The moisture of the rain softens the paint and the cement layers of the wall while, at the same time, the wall interupts the flow of the rainwater. The materials that make up the wall and its action and reaction to the rain become both (wall and water) sediment and erosion: a stone thrown on the surface of a lake.
In 2014, Henrique César presented the action “O informante (The Informant)” in Vermelho’s Room 2. During 26 consecutive days, the artist used a thermohygograph to simultaneously record the temperatura and relative humidity of the air in the room. The thermohygograph is an instrument used to measure air humidity as a way to control natural wear and tear due to climatic variations.
Printing the information provided by the instrument on sheets of squared paper and presenting them sequentially, side by side, on the wall of the exhibition space, the thermohygograph worked in “O informante (The informant)”, as a tool for materializing the invisible and the immaterial.
The physical materialization of this information seems to have finally broken the aseptic environment of the white cube and gained visuality in the mural painting “Infiltração (Infiltration)”, 2020 that César presents. The painting imitates marks of moisture resulting from leaks that become visible when the inner layer of the wall is already corrupted.
In his research, Henrique César (1987) seeks to understand how the body relates to the absence of materiality, giving form to apparently invisible forces revealed in drawings, paintings, vídeos and objects, using elements from the exact and biochemical sciences. His interest is not only focused on the power of the unknown or its effects, but also on the hidden forces that “surround, interrupt and invade bodies”. How these forces act and how the reaction or resistance to them relate to the current social and political context, is up to the viewer to elaborate.
The world consists of images that affect and are affected by their surroundings. Such a view is defined by the movement of action and reaction. For example, consider rain falling on a white wall. The moisture of the rain softens the paint and the cement layers of the wall while, at the same time, the wall interupts the flow of the rainwater. The materials that make up the wall and its action and reaction to the rain become both (wall and water) sediment and erosion: a stone thrown on the surface of a lake.
In 2014, Henrique César presented the action “O informante (The Informant)” in Vermelho’s Room 2. During 26 consecutive days, the artist used a thermohygograph to simultaneously record the temperatura and relative humidity of the air in the room. The thermohygograph is an instrument used to measure air humidity as a way to control natural wear and tear due to climatic variations.
Printing the information provided by the instrument on sheets of squared paper and presenting them sequentially, side by side, on the wall of the exhibition space, the thermohygograph worked in “O informante (The informant)”, as a tool for materializing the invisible and the immaterial.
The physical materialization of this information seems to have finally broken the aseptic environment of the white cube and gained visuality in the mural painting “Infiltração (Infiltration)”, 2020 that César presents. The painting imitates marks of moisture resulting from leaks that become visible when the inner layer of the wall is already corrupted.
In his research, Henrique César (1987) seeks to understand how the body relates to the absence of materiality, giving form to apparently invisible forces revealed in drawings, paintings, vídeos and objects, using elements from the exact and biochemical sciences. His interest is not only focused on the power of the unknown or its effects, but also on the hidden forces that “surround, interrupt and invade bodies”. How these forces act and how the reaction or resistance to them relate to the current social and political context, is up to the viewer to elaborate.
At the Sala Antonio projection room, Vermelho presents Hair Work, a film by Dias & Riedweg. The work was commissioned by Roger Buergel for his latest exhibition Mobile Worlds – Museum of Our Transcultural Gift, produced by the Johann Jakobs Museum in Zurich and the Museum of Arts and Crafts (MKG) in Hamburg, Germany, in collaboration with the University Viadrina (Frankfurt / Oder) and the Johann Wolfgang Goethe University (Frankfurt / Main). Dias & Riedweg had already worked with Buergel at the 12th Documenta in Kassel, Germany, in 2007.
At Sala Antonio entrance, Vermelho presents Home of The Others, a 2017 video. The piece had it’s premiere in Other time than here. Other place than now a solo show by Dias & Riedweg at MACRO – Museum of Contemporary Art of Rome (2017/2018).
Recognized for her large-scale installations, Marcelle brings together in ‘Already works that deal with manual processes, therefore more intimate, although the setup of the works involves charting and gauging strategies typical of her production. In the exhibition, Marcelle investigates points of inversion between works that are, at first glance, abstract or figurative.