Pink Maneuver
The Golden Triangle rule is intact. A brawl scene depicting a feisty rabble of colorful scamps tug at the braids of the woman centers the painting, as bendy guns shoot in every direction and socks n sandals clog dance over books strewn about. Irresistible vibrant colors, silly characters and silky surfaces on a large oil on canvas work anchor Ivana de Vivanco's new solo show, conceived as a critique on colonialism that continues to shape the modern world today.
"The pieces of my last years of work strive to give form to fragments of the stories of Andean history in South America," de Vivanco explains in the artist statement accompanying her debut solo presentation, Pink Maneuver, at the Spinnerei in Leipzig, Germany. "They are impregnated with the aesthetic of Latin American Baroque, which has been probably the most colorful and painful Baroque of all since the wound of colonization has remained inscribed in it." Born in Portugal, raised in Chile, and educated in Germany where she currently lives and works, the Chilean-Peruvian artist's life experience strongly informed her interest in the subjects that star in her surreal visuals, just as current surroundings have informed much of her approach. Based in the epicenter of what's recognized in the world as New Leipzig School, de Vivanco's figurations are built on traditional painterly techniques and are assembled from a diverse range of visuals, ranging from velvety surfaces to expressive marks and raw gestures. Often placed in spaces with an accented sense of perspective and regularly denouncing the rules of physics or logic, her images occasionally transcend into real life through sculptural work which adds to the impact of such rousing images.
Entitled Ronda (meaning "loud" or "grand" in Welsh and Hebrew origin), the centerpiece of the show is the culmination of paintings and sculptures that form the exhibition. "Ronda has been an attempt to capture in one image something of this episode of history," the artist explains about this compelling image, referencing "the enormous discrimination it contains, and the circular quality of violence, in which gunshots turn back and generate whirlwinds." Bright blue skies and vivid details such as red socks or yellow sandals capture attention as they tug at emotion in playful elements ultimately lead to a sobering narrative.
"I thought of the total installation, with its sculptures, its paintings, and its pink walls, as an invitation to go through and question social conventions, anchored in gender roles or in the supposed supremacy of western European knowledge. I’m fascinated about how humor and also tragedy can live together in a work of art, with all the tensions that that generates," the artist shared with Juxtapoz, as she also explained how the smaller canvases and her sculptural works made from cement, synthetic resin, plaster, and hair, often provide closeups of the primary scenes. Whether with the balloon-like blue head character yanking one of the braids, or a closeup of knees under the skirt with a chain around it, the artist creates emotional metaphors to interpret dark history. Through her poetic approach, de Vivanco repurposes the bright colors of Andean carnivals and the dynamic rhythms and movements of their parades to construct her own vocabulary. The traditional dances and celebrations that honor the sun and the rain are cleverly twisted and strangled to address the colonial cruelty and injustice that has shaped much of the world.
A head in a space wrestles to separate itself from its body, for it wants to observe the universe through the eyes of God. Although it is convinced of its divinity and it is bluer and brighter than the sky, it doesn’t succeed. It tries a thousand times, but it always remains chained to its veins, to its nails, to its hair. When it finally manages to rise a few centimeters above its shoulders, it wipes out entire cities, burns codices, cuts braids.
This is the Cartesian Complex , dualistic –it seeks to set mind and body against each other– and monological: a head with universal ambitions that reflects from a comfortable corner of the world. Its two practically identical profiles permanently doubt, but they never really question themselves, because they only listen to each other. Perhaps the Cartesian doubt is not as deep as it seems to be. After all, it doesn’t accept any interlocutor in its discourse. No one is allowed to shake the thinker from the outside. There’s no possible he (and no way a she or a they ) that is at his level.
The exhibition Pink Maneuver revisit some colonial narratives that drove the creation of modernity and that continue ruling our society and wants to give them a pink drift. I thought of the total installation –with its sculptures, its paintings and its pink walls– as an invitation to go through and question some social conventions, anchored for example in gender roles or in the supposed supremacy of western European knowledge.
Several works in this exhibition are born from the review and interpretation of episodes of Andean history in South America. One of them is the armed conflict between Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) and the Peruvian State during the 80s and 90s, which, promoted by the internal colonialism, accumulated the vast majority of victims in the rural and poorest areas of the country. 75% of the victims spoke Quechua or other native languages as their mother tongue, whereas in Peru only 16% of the population belonged to these ethnic and cultural groups. Even if it is impossible to represent these moments of history fairly and we can only fail during the process of trying to put together an image, the painting Ronda has been an attempt to capture something of this episode of history and of the circular quality of violence, in which gunshots turn back and generate whirlwinds.
The pieces of my last years of work strive to give form to fragments of these stories and in the attempt to do so they are impregnated with the aesthetic of Latin American Baroque, which has been probably one of the most colourful and painful Baroques, since the wound of colonization has remained inscribed in it. The scenes in the paintings are represented with the colours of Andean carnivals and with the rhythms of their parades. In the dances the bodies stomp, intertwine and collide, but they reconcile themselves in the moment in which they coordinate their movements again to the rhythm of music.
Una cabeza en el espacio forcejea por separarse de su cuerpo, pues quiere observar el universo a través del ojo de Dios. A pesar de estar convencida de su divinidad y de ser más azul y más brillante que el cielo, no lo logra. Lo intenta mil veces, pero permanece siempre encadenada a sus venas, a sus uñas, a su pelo. Cuando consigue, sin embargo, elevarse algunos centímetros por sobre sus hombros, arrasa con pueblos enteros, quema códices, corta trenzas.
Se trata del Complejo Cartesiano, dualista –que pretende enemistar cuerpo y mente– y monológico: una cabeza con pretensiones universales que reflexiona desde un cómodo rincón del mundo. Sus dos perfiles prácticamente idénticos dudan y dudan, pero nunca se ponen realmente en crisis, porque sólo se escuchan a sí mismos. Quizás la duda cartesiana no sea tan profunda como parece. Al fin y al cabo, ésta no acepta a ningún interlocutor en su discurso. A nadie se le permite remecer al pensador desde afuera. No hay ningún otro (y ni hablar otra u otre) que esté a su altura.
La exposición Pink Maneuver (Maniobra Rosa) es una crítica a las estructuras de colonialidad que impulsaron la creación de la modernidad y que siguen rigiendo en nuestra sociedad. He pensado la instalación total –con sus esculturas, sus pinturas y sus muros rosados– como una invitación a recorrer y cuestionar algunas convenciones sociales, ancladas por ejemplo en los roles de género o en la supuesta supremacía del pensamiento europeo.
Varias obras de esta exposición nacen de la revisión e interpretación de episodios de la historia andina en Sudamérica. Uno de ellos es el conflicto armado entre Sendero Luminoso y el Estado peruano durante los años 80 y 90, el cual, promovido por el colonialismo interno, acumuló la gran mayoría de las víctimas en las zonas rurales y más pobres del país. 75% de las víctimas fatales hablaban quechua u otras lenguas nativas como idioma materno, cuando en el Perú sólo 16% de la población pertenecía a dichos grupos étnicos y culturales. La pintura Ronda ha sido un intento de recoger en una imagen algo de este episodio de la historia, de la enorme discriminación que encierra y de la cualidad circular de la violencia, en la que los disparos se devuelven y generan torbellinos.
Las obras de mis últimos años de trabajo se esfuerzan por darle una forma a fragmentos de estas historias y en el intento se impregnan de la estética del barroco latinoamericano, que ha sido probablemente el barroco más colorido y más doloroso de todos, pues en él ha quedado inscrita la herida de la colonización. Las escenas de las pinturas están representadas con los colores de los carnavales andinos y con los ritmos de sus danzas. En los bailes los cuerpos zapatean, se entrecruzan y chocan, pero se reconcilian en el momento en el que vuelven a coordinar sus movimientos al compás de la música.
