In the show entitled Sete Quedas [Seven Falls], Marcelo Moscheta problematizes questions linked to man’s passage through different landscapes of the globe and the interferences he has made, such as constructions, alterations in the topography, and the systematization of the terrestrial globe.
The installation that lends its title to the exhibition occupies the gallery’s main room and consists of a five-meter-high scaffold together with seven drawings done in graphite on PVC. The images represent seven waterfalls which, for reasons linked to the spirit of human progress, were expunged from the natural landscape by works of engineering. The title and drawings make reference to the history of the Seven-Falls Cataract, or the Guaíra Cataract, which on October 13, 1982, had its 19 waterfalls (which were divided into seven groups) flooded over by the construction of the Itaipú hydroelectric plant. Held as the largest system of waterfalls in the world in volume of water and considered one of the planet’s greatest natural spectacles, the Seven-Falls Cataract disappeared from the landscape in the name of “progress.” The local community, however, was cut in half, since it had depended intrinsically on the tourism generated by the waterfalls.
The destruction of the landscape by man, especially by hydric systems, has already been dealt with by Moscheta in works such as Arrasto [Drag], which continues to be featured at Casa do Bandeirante, in São Paulo, until April 10. In the installation, a large drawing of a waterfall on the Rio Tietê, submersed by the waters of the Nova Avanhandava Dam, is flanked by stands that present collections of items found on each bank of the Rio Tietê. From March to August, 2015, Marcelo Moscheta collected, classified and documented rocks, clays, sands and minerals found along the entire length of the two banks of the river. With a nod to archaeology, geology and the Bandeirante Paulista Cycle, the artist composes a storehouse of private memories and reports, constructing a small museum of curiosities.
The falls present in the show’s title refer, therefore, to man’s constant and systematic destruction of the terrestrial landscape. Perhaps the origin of this process lies in the first tools developed by man. In Homo Faber, Moscheta presents 40 stone blades in a set of drawings made with graphite on PVC. The stone blades are tools carved from stone and used as percussion weapons or cutting instruments. They also represent the first technological advance of human history that marks the Stone Age, together with fire and clothing. Moscheta divides each drawing into a field, attributing iconic characteristics to each instrument represented. The characteristic of an icon, or object of worship, is reinforced by the origin of the images. The artist gathered the photos of the 40 stone blades from public archives of museums scattered around the world.
O Trabalho dos Dias [Days’ Work], 2016, shows a recent “fall.” Moscheta juxtaposes a set of time-card holders (as used near time clocks at businesses) to an image of a terikon, in the Ukraine. Terikons, also called spoil tips, are manmade piles built with the overburden and waste rock of the mining industry. Moscheta comments on the effort of human work necessary to construct these topographic elevations in the landscape of a city by juxtaposing the time-card holder to the image of the terikon, systematically perforated to represent the record of man’s passage through the landscape. The time clock was created at the end of the 19th century, in the United States, with the aim of increasing productivity and allowing employers to control the hours of workers. Here, its vestige refers to another measure likewise aimed at profit and the exploitation of workforces and natural resources, since the terikons present hazards to the surrounding populations, due to constant landslides and underground combustion. Trabalho dos Dias (detail).
In Fundo Infinito [Infinite Background] 2016, Marcelo Moscheta records the ruins of a rudimentary – and singular – construction in the middle of the Atacama Desert. The fragmented building blends into the desert’s rocky landscape. The image recorded on offset sheets attached to galvanized sheets also chromatically approximates the two instances and provides a commentary on the failure of entrepreneurial man, since the figure appears destructured, in a process of falling, on the bent galvanized sheet. Nevertheless, even though it is falling, man’s developmentalist aspect seems to be reaffirmed by the structure of the figure’s base – a stack of perfectly aligned and stable blocks made of cellular concrete, a sort of concrete “foam” that is a relatively new technology (it has only been used in Brazilian civil construction for 30 years), which ensures durability, lightness and constructive ease along with excellent thermal and acoustic properties. The juxtaposition of this material with the image of the construction made of stone remnants evokes the future state of recent and future constructions. It is man superimposing himself on nature.
The Atacama Desert also appears in the series Fixos e Fluxos [Fixed and Flowing], 2016. In these artworks, sets of schematically composed aluminum sheets bear satellite photos of the desert. To each quadrant, the artist has attached a small copper plaque with the geographic coordinates of that space, registered by him and his journey through the region in 2012. The system of mapping by coordinates originated in Babylonia and was improved by Ptolemy in the first or second century. The system, today perfected through the use of satellites, is accessible to everyone who has a device compatible with the language of geolocation. One can visualize any point on the earth with a few commands on a functioning geolocation device. Moscheta’s journey through the Atacama territory becomes distanced through the view of the satellite image, stripping away the journey’s vastness and inclemencies. In Moscheta’s words, “My method for constructing this work resembles that of the ancient cartographers, where the experience of the traveller came previous to the representation of the territory. The map was only produced after the cartographer visited the place to be mapped, so the cartographer’s experience became part of the representation. In this work, the satellite’s mechanical eye finds the area I visited three years ago and later labelled with their coordinates engraved on copper plaques. My geographical movement determined the choice of the image – a landscape I had never seen before, even though my boot prints were impressed on the soil there.”
Last but not least, in the series Positivo Singular [Singular Positive], 2016, Moscheta presents a series of ten photographs of uncommon landscapes of the Chilean desert topped with iron sheets that form volumes which recall the monolith of the film 2001, by Stanley Kubrick. In the 1968 film, the black volume made of an undefined material symbolized a synchronism between past and future, like an atemporal announcement of man’s pioneering destiny. The first appearance of the object in the film takes place at precisely the moment when man’s ancestor discovers that the same bone that forms his structure can be used as a tool or weapon. In Moscheta’s works, however, this monolith is subject to the passage of time and, due to its ferrous material, acquires marks of the passage of time, with constant oxidation and corrosion. Moscheta’s monoliths are thus synchronous with those of Kubrik, but insofar as they are manmade, they only tend to decay.
In the show entitled Sete Quedas [Seven Falls], Marcelo Moscheta problematizes questions linked to man’s passage through different landscapes of the globe and the interferences he has made, such as constructions, alterations in the topography, and the systematization of the terrestrial globe.
The installation that lends its title to the exhibition occupies the gallery’s main room and consists of a five-meter-high scaffold together with seven drawings done in graphite on PVC. The images represent seven waterfalls which, for reasons linked to the spirit of human progress, were expunged from the natural landscape by works of engineering. The title and drawings make reference to the history of the Seven-Falls Cataract, or the Guaíra Cataract, which on October 13, 1982, had its 19 waterfalls (which were divided into seven groups) flooded over by the construction of the Itaipú hydroelectric plant. Held as the largest system of waterfalls in the world in volume of water and considered one of the planet’s greatest natural spectacles, the Seven-Falls Cataract disappeared from the landscape in the name of “progress.” The local community, however, was cut in half, since it had depended intrinsically on the tourism generated by the waterfalls.
The destruction of the landscape by man, especially by hydric systems, has already been dealt with by Moscheta in works such as Arrasto [Drag], which continues to be featured at Casa do Bandeirante, in São Paulo, until April 10. In the installation, a large drawing of a waterfall on the Rio Tietê, submersed by the waters of the Nova Avanhandava Dam, is flanked by stands that present collections of items found on each bank of the Rio Tietê. From March to August, 2015, Marcelo Moscheta collected, classified and documented rocks, clays, sands and minerals found along the entire length of the two banks of the river. With a nod to archaeology, geology and the Bandeirante Paulista Cycle, the artist composes a storehouse of private memories and reports, constructing a small museum of curiosities.
The falls present in the show’s title refer, therefore, to man’s constant and systematic destruction of the terrestrial landscape. Perhaps the origin of this process lies in the first tools developed by man. In Homo Faber, Moscheta presents 40 stone blades in a set of drawings made with graphite on PVC. The stone blades are tools carved from stone and used as percussion weapons or cutting instruments. They also represent the first technological advance of human history that marks the Stone Age, together with fire and clothing. Moscheta divides each drawing into a field, attributing iconic characteristics to each instrument represented. The characteristic of an icon, or object of worship, is reinforced by the origin of the images. The artist gathered the photos of the 40 stone blades from public archives of museums scattered around the world.
O Trabalho dos Dias [Days’ Work], 2016, shows a recent “fall.” Moscheta juxtaposes a set of time-card holders (as used near time clocks at businesses) to an image of a terikon, in the Ukraine. Terikons, also called spoil tips, are manmade piles built with the overburden and waste rock of the mining industry. Moscheta comments on the effort of human work necessary to construct these topographic elevations in the landscape of a city by juxtaposing the time-card holder to the image of the terikon, systematically perforated to represent the record of man’s passage through the landscape. The time clock was created at the end of the 19th century, in the United States, with the aim of increasing productivity and allowing employers to control the hours of workers. Here, its vestige refers to another measure likewise aimed at profit and the exploitation of workforces and natural resources, since the terikons present hazards to the surrounding populations, due to constant landslides and underground combustion. Trabalho dos Dias (detail).
In Fundo Infinito [Infinite Background] 2016, Marcelo Moscheta records the ruins of a rudimentary – and singular – construction in the middle of the Atacama Desert. The fragmented building blends into the desert’s rocky landscape. The image recorded on offset sheets attached to galvanized sheets also chromatically approximates the two instances and provides a commentary on the failure of entrepreneurial man, since the figure appears destructured, in a process of falling, on the bent galvanized sheet. Nevertheless, even though it is falling, man’s developmentalist aspect seems to be reaffirmed by the structure of the figure’s base – a stack of perfectly aligned and stable blocks made of cellular concrete, a sort of concrete “foam” that is a relatively new technology (it has only been used in Brazilian civil construction for 30 years), which ensures durability, lightness and constructive ease along with excellent thermal and acoustic properties. The juxtaposition of this material with the image of the construction made of stone remnants evokes the future state of recent and future constructions. It is man superimposing himself on nature.
The Atacama Desert also appears in the series Fixos e Fluxos [Fixed and Flowing], 2016. In these artworks, sets of schematically composed aluminum sheets bear satellite photos of the desert. To each quadrant, the artist has attached a small copper plaque with the geographic coordinates of that space, registered by him and his journey through the region in 2012. The system of mapping by coordinates originated in Babylonia and was improved by Ptolemy in the first or second century. The system, today perfected through the use of satellites, is accessible to everyone who has a device compatible with the language of geolocation. One can visualize any point on the earth with a few commands on a functioning geolocation device. Moscheta’s journey through the Atacama territory becomes distanced through the view of the satellite image, stripping away the journey’s vastness and inclemencies. In Moscheta’s words, “My method for constructing this work resembles that of the ancient cartographers, where the experience of the traveller came previous to the representation of the territory. The map was only produced after the cartographer visited the place to be mapped, so the cartographer’s experience became part of the representation. In this work, the satellite’s mechanical eye finds the area I visited three years ago and later labelled with their coordinates engraved on copper plaques. My geographical movement determined the choice of the image – a landscape I had never seen before, even though my boot prints were impressed on the soil there.”
Last but not least, in the series Positivo Singular [Singular Positive], 2016, Moscheta presents a series of ten photographs of uncommon landscapes of the Chilean desert topped with iron sheets that form volumes which recall the monolith of the film 2001, by Stanley Kubrick. In the 1968 film, the black volume made of an undefined material symbolized a synchronism between past and future, like an atemporal announcement of man’s pioneering destiny. The first appearance of the object in the film takes place at precisely the moment when man’s ancestor discovers that the same bone that forms his structure can be used as a tool or weapon. In Moscheta’s works, however, this monolith is subject to the passage of time and, due to its ferrous material, acquires marks of the passage of time, with constant oxidation and corrosion. Moscheta’s monoliths are thus synchronous with those of Kubrik, but insofar as they are manmade, they only tend to decay.
