Edgard de Souza juxtaposes artworks that seem contrary in his production. Striking characteristics in his work – the duality between an intimate space of investigation and a work aimed at the public, as well as the virtuosity in the production of his tridimensional pieces – are present in his first solo show at Galeria Vermelho.
On the one hand, Edgard de Souza clearly evidences his virtuosity in the construction of sculptures, such as the works “Autofagia II” [Autophagia II], 2015, which involves a mirrored figure, a constant in his oeuvre, and “Acaso (hélice)” [Random (Helix)] and ‘Acaso (Saci)” [Random (Saci)], both from 2015, where the act of eating one’s own flesh (as indicated by the title of the aforementioned sculpture, “Autofagia”) appears amplified. “Autofagia II” is the largest and most intricate bronze sculpture ever produced by the artist. The two bodies that intercross each other are no longer symmetric; they seem to be engaged in a struggle where only one will survive, in an amalgam between lasciviousness and fighting. On the other hand, in the drawings of the “Rabisco” [Doodle] series from 2015, the artist shows us a new territory of his self-devouring clash. At first sight, the drawings in ballpoint pen on paper look like random childish scrawls and scribbles.
They are, however, the result of a recurrent procedure in the artist’s work, like the self-portraits in Cibachrome made in the late 1990s. The photographs from that period seem to serve as an exploration of his own body for the development of his sculptures, as well as a knot made with his own work – once again, the self-devouring.
Those self-portraits, published by the Edições Tijuana label in the format of an artist’s book, are being released simultaneously with the opening of the exhibition and provide a look at the artist’s first rudimentary studies in the use of a fax machine to combine images.
Somewhat like the procedure in the photographs, the “Rabiscos” record movements by Edgard de Souza. They are drawings made during simple challenges: drawing while dancing, while talking on the phone, using two hands at the same time, using the pen until it runs out of ink, being symmetric, avoiding symmetry. Each of these tasks gives rise to a graphically or materially different drawing that is imposed on the paper in a different way. They are nevertheless struggles and analyses of his body, which seems to be present in each of them. Sometimes, the effort expended in the application of the body on the paper is so great that the pigmentation of the ink blends with the grooves made by the repetitive movement and winds up composing surfaces with skin like characteristics.
In “Restauro” [Restoration], 2015, the artist restores an old and torn floorcloth, sewing it by hand, giving life to a dead object. The movement is opposite to that of the “Rabiscos”: returning the cloth to its original form, though steeped in the artist’s constructive skill.
In the “Conforto” [Comfort] series, produced between 2013 and 2015, Edgard displaces cushions that seem to have come from chairs and which should offer a sense of coziness and well-being to the sculpture. Besides having their positions displaced, the cushions have been deformed to resemble something halfway between safe, protective seashells and stark, disarranged shapes.
Edgard de Souza’s comfort seems to lie in this terrain between absolutely controlled virtuosity and the lack of control that moves his production forward.
In the catalogue of the artist’s panoramic exhibition at the Pinacoteca do Estado de São Paulo, in 2004, critic and curator Lisette Lagnado wrote that “If we take as an existential paradigm that Edgard de Souza began to produce in a period marked by ‘fear,’ we will inevitably observe a withdraw to an inner place.” Lagnado is referring to the appearance of AIDS and the subsequent sickness of some people who surrounded the artist in the 1980s. The appearance of the disease offset the young effervescence of that time. A clashing arose between the equally intense drives of wildness and shelter, and between rationality and barbarity.
This dualness has been visible in Edgard’s production since his first sculptures constructed as anamorphic furniture-animals in the late 1980s and early 1990s. In those works, legs of furniture pieces such as bedside tables and armchairs, made for purposes of solidity or rest, are crowned by organic shapes made with the skins of animals such as cows, zebras or snakes that form holes or distorted phalluses, or resemble horses ready to be mounted. They are rest and restlessness rolled into one.
The duel is enlarged by the mirrored figures in Edgard de Souza’s production, like the “Sem título” bench from 1990, the “Sem título” chair from 1997, the “Sem título” bronze sculpture from 1997, and “Autofagia I” from 2013. In these pieces, the two elements of the dual are equal and seem to be eating one another, as suggested by the title of the most recent piece. As in the cellular process of the same name, the sculptures seem to be ingesting themselves in a process that involves death and life at one and the same moment.
Edgard de Souza juxtaposes artworks that seem contrary in his production. Striking characteristics in his work – the duality between an intimate space of investigation and a work aimed at the public, as well as the virtuosity in the production of his tridimensional pieces – are present in his first solo show at Galeria Vermelho.
On the one hand, Edgard de Souza clearly evidences his virtuosity in the construction of sculptures, such as the works “Autofagia II” [Autophagia II], 2015, which involves a mirrored figure, a constant in his oeuvre, and “Acaso (hélice)” [Random (Helix)] and ‘Acaso (Saci)” [Random (Saci)], both from 2015, where the act of eating one’s own flesh (as indicated by the title of the aforementioned sculpture, “Autofagia”) appears amplified. “Autofagia II” is the largest and most intricate bronze sculpture ever produced by the artist. The two bodies that intercross each other are no longer symmetric; they seem to be engaged in a struggle where only one will survive, in an amalgam between lasciviousness and fighting. On the other hand, in the drawings of the “Rabisco” [Doodle] series from 2015, the artist shows us a new territory of his self-devouring clash. At first sight, the drawings in ballpoint pen on paper look like random childish scrawls and scribbles.
They are, however, the result of a recurrent procedure in the artist’s work, like the self-portraits in Cibachrome made in the late 1990s. The photographs from that period seem to serve as an exploration of his own body for the development of his sculptures, as well as a knot made with his own work – once again, the self-devouring.
Those self-portraits, published by the Edições Tijuana label in the format of an artist’s book, are being released simultaneously with the opening of the exhibition and provide a look at the artist’s first rudimentary studies in the use of a fax machine to combine images.
Somewhat like the procedure in the photographs, the “Rabiscos” record movements by Edgard de Souza. They are drawings made during simple challenges: drawing while dancing, while talking on the phone, using two hands at the same time, using the pen until it runs out of ink, being symmetric, avoiding symmetry. Each of these tasks gives rise to a graphically or materially different drawing that is imposed on the paper in a different way. They are nevertheless struggles and analyses of his body, which seems to be present in each of them. Sometimes, the effort expended in the application of the body on the paper is so great that the pigmentation of the ink blends with the grooves made by the repetitive movement and winds up composing surfaces with skin like characteristics.
In “Restauro” [Restoration], 2015, the artist restores an old and torn floorcloth, sewing it by hand, giving life to a dead object. The movement is opposite to that of the “Rabiscos”: returning the cloth to its original form, though steeped in the artist’s constructive skill.
In the “Conforto” [Comfort] series, produced between 2013 and 2015, Edgard displaces cushions that seem to have come from chairs and which should offer a sense of coziness and well-being to the sculpture. Besides having their positions displaced, the cushions have been deformed to resemble something halfway between safe, protective seashells and stark, disarranged shapes.
Edgard de Souza’s comfort seems to lie in this terrain between absolutely controlled virtuosity and the lack of control that moves his production forward.
In the catalogue of the artist’s panoramic exhibition at the Pinacoteca do Estado de São Paulo, in 2004, critic and curator Lisette Lagnado wrote that “If we take as an existential paradigm that Edgard de Souza began to produce in a period marked by ‘fear,’ we will inevitably observe a withdraw to an inner place.” Lagnado is referring to the appearance of AIDS and the subsequent sickness of some people who surrounded the artist in the 1980s. The appearance of the disease offset the young effervescence of that time. A clashing arose between the equally intense drives of wildness and shelter, and between rationality and barbarity.
This dualness has been visible in Edgard’s production since his first sculptures constructed as anamorphic furniture-animals in the late 1980s and early 1990s. In those works, legs of furniture pieces such as bedside tables and armchairs, made for purposes of solidity or rest, are crowned by organic shapes made with the skins of animals such as cows, zebras or snakes that form holes or distorted phalluses, or resemble horses ready to be mounted. They are rest and restlessness rolled into one.
The duel is enlarged by the mirrored figures in Edgard de Souza’s production, like the “Sem título” bench from 1990, the “Sem título” chair from 1997, the “Sem título” bronze sculpture from 1997, and “Autofagia I” from 2013. In these pieces, the two elements of the dual are equal and seem to be eating one another, as suggested by the title of the most recent piece. As in the cellular process of the same name, the sculptures seem to be ingesting themselves in a process that involves death and life at one and the same moment.


























