Cerrar

Interventions, autopsies, and dissections of the graphic image

Jorge de la Vega, Grete Stern, León Ferrari, Horacio Zabala, Jorge Macchi, Osvaldo Lamborghini, Alfredo Londaibere, Rosana Schoijett, Valentina Liernur, Carlos Herrera, Carlos Huffmann, Adrián Villar Rojas, Mariana Tellería, Leonardo Sánchez, Manuel Fernández.

The monster lies latent within every image, waiting for the conditions to manifest itself. It appears when an image ceases to obey the regime that organized its meaning and begins to produce unforeseen associations. Because the image is also a battlefield: every photograph can be cropped, every headline taken out of context, every advertisement dismantled.

One of the great transformations of modernity was the emergence of a universe of technically reproducible images—identical, circulating, and potentially infinite. Surrealism, Pop, and political art, among other very different traditions, operated within this new visual regime. They shared a conviction: industrially produced images could be diverted from their original function and charged with fiction or criticality. Artists’ interventions into mass-produced images, whether as the starting point or destination of their works, can be understood as a material precursor to algorithmic visual culture. An image is detached from its context, combined with another, acquires a new meaning, and begins to circulate again. Memes take this logic into a collective and accelerated dimension; fake news demonstrates its power to manufacture realities; artificial intelligence makes possible the production of images that no longer depend on a prior referent.

Interventions, autopsies, and dissections of the graphic image brings together artists who, at different historical moments, have found in the visuality of the media a territory in which to introduce anomalies. Each work proposes reading these images against their own evidence, questioning their apparent transparency, and returning to them what mass circulation tends to neutralize: ambiguity, conflict, materiality, and the capacity to produce other worlds.

A first section approaches this problem through the surrealist imagination, with Grete Stern as its central figure, accompanied by Rosana Schoijett and Manuel Fernández. These artists’ procedure consists of generating a fantastic image from fragments that, because of their photographic origin, have already been accepted as part of reality. Photography’s indexical condition—its physical or causal relationship to what stood before the camera—makes these fantasies disturbingly plausible. The operation destabilizes everyday reality in order to reveal zones of dream, violence, or drive that rational order attempts to keep separate. Through photomontage, photography becomes a psychic space: a place where different temporalities, bodies, scales, desires, and fictions can coexist.

A second section brings together artists associated with a Pop sensibility or materiality, with Jorge de la Vega as its central figure. For these practices, mass culture offers a visual repertoire in which ways of life and ways of representation are intertwined. The aim is no longer, as in Surrealism, to open a fissure toward the unconscious, but to intervene in a visual culture organized around repetition, consumption, and circulation. The promise of happiness associated with advertising imagery is transformed into estrangement.

In De la Vega’s effasages, the industrial image remains recognizable, but something begins to inhabit it. Invaded by a bestiary of forms, faces, and bodies, it loses its stability and reveals a monstrous dimension that had remained latent beneath its visible surface. Effasage combines seemingly contradictory operations: adding and removing, intervening and erasing, revealing and concealing. There is a form of excavation in this procedure. Beneath every image of consumption, a world seems to exist that begins to manifest itself as its surface is eroded. The monstrous does not arrive from outside: it emerges as a symptom of the image itself. In the artists accompanying this section—Osvaldo Lamborghini, Alfredo Londaibere, Valentina Liernur, Carlos Herrera, Carlos Huffmann, Adrián Villar Rojas, Mariana Tellería, and Leonardo Sánchez—intervention appears as a practice of contamination. Images produced to be consumed, recognized, and rapidly replaced are subjected to operations that interrupt their functioning and bring forth a world that was not anticipated. The aim is not to escape mass culture, but to enter it deeply enough to find its cracks.

The third section introduces a more explicit political purpose. León Ferrari occupies an important historical role within these narratives because of his ability to bring together languages that dominant discourses tend to keep separate: the press, religion, desire, violence, and institutions of power. Through repetition, literalness, displacement, metaphor, irony, and parody, Ferrari alters the systems of reading that allow certain images to appear natural. The operations within this section rely on simple procedures: confronting two images that had never appeared together, as in Ferrari’s work, or cutting out or covering what the original image proposed, as in the works of Jorge Macchi and Horacio Zabala.

In his series of collages using photographs of Madonna, Ferrari extends these operations into the realm of mass culture. The confrontation between images drawn from religious and erotic universes produces shifts between the sacred and the profane, while questioning the historical ways in which Christianity has associated desire and the body with guilt and sin. The choice of Madonna is significant precisely because her figure concentrates many of these tensions between desire, sexuality, morality, and Christianity.

The medical analogy of the title ultimately proposes looking at images as bodies. They are familiar to us because we see them every day, yet their anatomy usually remains invisible. Cutting an image makes its structure visible; separating its parts reveals the seams that held its meanings together. By juxtaposing fragments from different worlds, relationships that previously remained hidden emerge. Erasing produces an absence; repetition, an obsession; changing the scale, an anomaly; moving an image from one context to another alters its history. The exhibition imagines these practices as operations performed on a collective body of images constructed by the press, advertising, entertainment, propaganda, and other systems of mass circulation. Artistic intervention does not necessarily destroy this body: it opens it up in order to observe how it functions, what relationships it sustains, and which areas it keeps hidden. Where an image claims to show a fact, the artist introduces fiction; where it proposes a single temporality, the artist incorporates remnants of the past, projections toward the future, and associations that disorder the present.

Javier Villa

Carlos Gorriarena: Mujeres en vísperas

Each in Their Own World

What is it that truly takes place in Carlos Gorriarena’s paintings? What is the reality that moves beneath what appears to reveal a certain fullness, including the fullness of twilight?

Any answer we venture should be careful not to be carried away by the meaning things seem to have at first glance. For it is within that interstitial dimension—where paradox alters the experience of revelation (what remains unseen within what is seen)—that Gorriarena’s paintings pierce through their own artistic identity like an arrow, attaining a state of suspended, charged meaning.

Gorriarena, a prince of color, knows better than anyone that there are living organisms at work beneath the splendor of vivid colors—that is, processes of decay already underway—as if to say: there is a lemon beneath the color yellow. The contrast between the exalted exterior and the hidden interior pressing outward with a drama that cannot yet be seen is the soul of his art and, perhaps, the one gift among his many talents that could be considered irreplaceable.

Gorriarena’s images are images of what is about to happen. In those eves whose future remains uncertain, an aggravating condition emerges: the future has already begun to erode the present reality of events. Time enters the instant, deploying its invisible armies. Within that discreet yet irreversible leveling, women appear as flesh-and-blood ghosts who resist—whether with elegance or despair—the calamities of the countdown.

On the opposite side of his reflections on men—ordinary beasts drawn toward the black sun of power, which, as in his version of the Pact of Olivos, casts shadows different from those of the sun that shelters the world—Gorriarena’s women belong to a different species altogether. They are absorbed by an inner world in which they lose themselves only to find themselves again.

What we encounter is what might be called a “gallery” in the sense of a gallery of characters, where women—even women reduced to objects—display the singularity of subjects who remain unreadable. What they think, what they feel, and who they are belong to a specific mystery: the mystery of identity. For unlike Gorriarena’s men—universal and interchangeable despite their most disparate appearances—each woman is unique.

Exalted or calm, slender or full-bodied, clothed or nude, poised in action or in potential, Carlos Gorriarena’s women are creatures endowed with an earthly human power, one that men tend to disdain as they seek their own among the gods they imitate.

This marks an irreconcilable difference between the genders that, in Gorriarena’s work, becomes evident whenever men and women—with few exceptions—gather within a circle of intimacy. There, the woman looks at the man, while the man gazes toward a beyond where he perhaps glimpses the horizon of his ideals. And while one says, “Good evening,” the other replies, “Good morning.”

This is the crux of a question that Gorriarena’s art has revealed: there is no greater closeness between woman and man than the shared fate that keeps each within their own world.

Juan Becerra

Carlos Gorriarena

Carlos Gorriarena was born in Buenos Aires on December 20, 1925. At the age of 17, he enrolled at the National School of Fine Arts, where he studied under two major figures: Lucio Fontana in sculpture and Antonio Berni in drawing. In 1948, he left the institution to pursue an independent course of study with the painter Demetrio Urruchúa, a key figure in social realism who would have a lasting influence on his development.

He held his first solo exhibition in 1959 and was a co-founder of the Grupo del Plata, active between 1960 and 1964. In 1962, he was invited to Vence (France) by the Michael Karolyi Memorial, directed by Bertrand Russell. Between 1971 and 1972, he lived in Madrid, further expanding his international experience.

In 1986, he was awarded the Grand Prize of Honor at the National Salon, the highest distinction in the visual arts in Argentina, for his work Pin Pan Punk. His work is associated with what has been termed Political Art, a current initiated in Argentina by Antonio Berni in the 1930s. However, his practice goes beyond propaganda: it constitutes a sharp ethical questioning of social reality, in which the political emerges as an inherent dimension of contemporary experience.

A tireless painter, from the mid-1950s onward he held more than two hundred exhibitions in Argentina and abroad. He also played a significant role in the training of younger generations of artists.

Antonio Asis

Antonio Asis (Buenos Aires, 1932) is a key figure in Argentine geometric and kinetic art, recognized for a body of work that consistently investigates the relationships between perception, movement, and structure. Born into a family of Lebanese origin settled in Argentina, he studied at the National School of Fine Arts in Buenos Aires between 1946 and 1950, in a context shaped by the emergence and debates surrounding the Concrete Art Movement. During these formative years, he was a student of Héctor Cartier, whose teaching—grounded in Gestalt theory—proved fundamental to the development of his visual thinking, particularly regarding the relativity of color and perception.

In the late 1950s, Asis moved to Paris, reversing his family’s migratory path. In the French capital, he became part of a dynamic artistic environment and joined a circle of Latin American artists developing their careers there. His early years in Paris were marked by various jobs until he was able to fully dedicate himself to his artistic practice. Over time, he established himself as one of the most prominent Argentine artists working in Europe.

His work belongs to the abstract tradition but introduces an experimental dimension aimed at destabilizing the viewer’s perception. Through the use of grids, metal screens, and layered structures, Asis developed a visual language in which movement is not physical but perceptual. The viewer must move in front of the work to activate the optical vibrations it generates. In this sense, space and time become central elements of his practice: the artwork is not confined to its material presence but is completed through visual experience.

Throughout his career, he participated in numerous solo and group exhibitions in institutions and galleries across Europe and the Americas, including landmark kinetic art exhibitions such as Lumière et mouvement at the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris in 1967. His work has also been featured in exhibitions at the Museo Reina Sofía in Madrid, the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston, and various institutions dedicated to Latin American art.

The ideas developed by Asis have influenced subsequent generations of artists interested in perception and movement. However, his production has always retained an introspective character, largely developed in the solitude of his Paris studio.

Today, his work is internationally recognized and included in major public collections. His “dynamic universe,” based on vibration, repetition, and visual instability, positions him as a central figure in kinetic art, whose investigations continue to challenge contemporary perception.

VERTIGO

Antonio Asís, Julio Le Parc, Gregorio Vardanega, Rogelio Polesello, Gyula Kosice, Martha Boto, Perla Benveniste, Eduardo Rodríguez, Luis Tomasello, and Manuel Espinosa.

In 1958, Alfred Hitchcock released Vertigo, a film that marked a milestone in cinema history and introduced one of the most recognizable visual and narrative techniques of modern film: the dolly zoom. This device alters spatial perception through the simultaneous movement of the camera and zoom in opposite directions, generating a sense of instability, disorientation, and estrangement.

A few years earlier, in 1955, the Denise René Gallery in Paris presented the exhibition Le Mouvement, where kinetic art was consolidated for the first time as a distinct movement. Its central elements were movement, space, and time, manifested through various approaches: works activated only through the viewer’s movement, pieces transformed through direct interaction with the public, and motorized devices operating autonomously.

The integration of cinema with this artistic manifestation, by focusing on visual language through movement, introduces a specific reflection on perception as an unstable construction. As Roger Bordier noted in his text Cinéma, the moving image reorganizes the relationship between time, space, and gaze. It is precisely at this point that this exhibition situates itself: a shared inquiry into the ways perception is activated, disrupted, and transformed into experience.

This exhibition takes the title Vertigo to present a selection of works by Antonio Asís, Julio Le Parc, Gregorio Vardanega, Rogelio Polesello, Gyula Kosice, Martha Boto, Perla Benveniste, Eduardo Rodríguez, Luis Tomasello, and Manuel Espinosa. Like the cinematic technique that inspires it, these works produce visual instability, generating a dynamic field in which the fixed becomes unstable and perception is in constant transformation.

As a member of the Groupe de Recherche d’Art Visuel (GRAV), Julio Le Parc established in Paris the foundations of a practice centered on the active participation of the viewer, transforming and disrupting the meaning of the artwork toward experience. These investigations continued to develop in Buenos Aires in works that required movement, interaction, and variations of light within the image to fully unfold geometric structures, in dialogue with precedents such as those of Gyula Kosice, whose dynamic conception of geometry—initiated in the Madí group—projected and consolidated itself within kinetic art.

Within this framework, artists such as Antonio Asís and Manuel Espinosa worked on perceptual activation through minimal operations, whether by optical vibrations generated by chromatic units or through subtle tonal variations. Meanwhile, Luis Tomasello produced three-dimensional geometric environments where color and space transform according to the viewer’s position. In turn, Martha Boto and Gregorio Vardanega, along with Perla Benveniste and Eduardo Rodríguez, developed investigations linked to motorized systems and light effects, deepening the distortion of light and color and collectively evidencing the convergence between art, science, and technology in the construction of new forms of perception.

These artists explored devices capable of producing a new visual sensibility, aligned with the changing reality of their time, just as cinema explored the technical possibilities of the moving image. In both cases, this involves experimentation with the limits of the visible and a challenge to the stability of form, within a context shaped by the expansion of technology and reproduction media, incorporating industrial materials, mechanical systems, and logics of seriality characteristic of the period.

Kinetic art proposes situations: open experiences that invite viewers to inhabit the work. As Elena Oliveras notes, these pieces generate a constant excitation of attention, a dimension of uncertainty, a “not knowing what will happen,” which activates the senses and produces an ever-unstable fascination.

Vertigo thus proposes a journey through a set of practices that turned movement—real or illusory—into a tension, challenging our ways of perceiving and reminding us that all vision is, ultimately, a construction in motion.

Capricho de Verano

This summer, MC Galería opens its doors to an exhibition featuring a curated selection of artists from the gallery’s back room, offering a representative overview of the aesthetic and conceptual diversity that defines the space, and highlighting renowned figures of Argentine art.

The exhibition seeks to showcase the wide range of languages, techniques, and approaches that coexist within the gallery through three thematic rooms, inviting visitors to explore different movements and key moments in modern and contemporary Argentine art.

Among the artists on view are Edgardo Giménez, Ary Brizzi, Oscar Bony, Kenneth Kemble, Ernesto Deira, Jorge De La Vega, Eduardo Costa, Rogelio Polesello, César Paternosto, Cynthia Cohen, and Vicente Grondona.

[En común] Horacio Zabala y amigos.

The historical moment they happened to share, the territories they coincided in inhabiting, the ideas floating in the air of a single generation, the artist networks they belonged to, or simply chance —which does not exist— made it so that, from the mid-1960s to today, Horacio Zabala has been surrounded by the professional and personal friendship of Juan Carlos Romero, Carlos Ginzburg, Edgardo Vigo, Luis Pazos, and Leandro Katz.

En común proposes to update that dialogue between past and present among artists who cultivated object-based practices, the readymade, visual poetry, performance, and photography in order to point to, denounce, or parody different aspects of contemporary life. All of them participants in the exhibitions of the CAYC, created by Jorge Glusberg in 1968—whether from Argentina or elsewhere in the world—contributed their own vision to international conceptual art.

Acting since the turbulent 1960s with the imprint of questioning the limits of art, proposing an anti-art, and merging art, sociology, and philosophy through analytical approaches characterizes the vision of the artists in En común. Presenting instead of exhibiting, suspending judgment as a political gesture, unsettling established values, and ironizing their own practice are actions that unite Zabala, Romero, Ginzburg, Vigo, Pazos, and Katz in solitary, monumental, and ambiguously unmotivated adventures that fulfill their purpose: reflecting on what is given, what exists, what has been made natural.

Images and the discourses built around them—whether for explicit or masked intentions—are a favorite theme of these snipers of language, builders through destruction, visionaries of catastrophe. From the simple and readily at hand, from poor yet beautiful materials, to the sophistication of dismantling the scaffolding of modern and contemporary thought, there is no fatigue, since art is “the world for a second time,” as Horacio Zabala defined it in 1998: “The work of art opens a game between art and the world.” It is another gaze—interested, connoted—that, provisionally, frees itself from the notion of transcendence.

María José Herrera

Ernesto Deira

Ernesto Deira was born in Buenos Aires on July 28, 1928. His studies were oriented towards traditional careers and it was not until four years after graduating as a lawyer that he entered the world of painting, guided by none other than Leopoldo Presas and Leopoldo Torres Agüero. In 1958 he had his first individual exhibition at the Rubbers Gallery in Buenos Aires. A few years later, together with Luis Felipe Noé, Jorge de la Vega and Rómulo Macció, he formed the “New Figuration” group, exhibiting at the Peuser Gallery in 1961 and in the following years at the Museum of Fine Arts and also abroad. In 1964 he participates in the IV Guggenheim Intrenational Award and organizes exhibitions in Europe. Two years later he was invited as a professor at Cornell University (USA). In 1965 he received the Fulbright Scholarship and in 1967 he was awarded the Palanza Prize. Among others, he received in 1965 in the U.S.A. the prize of the First Salon of Young Artists of Latin America and the Palanza Prize in 1967.

He had numerous solo and group exhibitions in Rio de Janeiro, Brussels, Madrid, Paris, Chartres and Venice. In 1981 the Galleria Degli Uci included a Self-Portrait in its collection. In 1992 his work “Adam and Eve #2” (1963) was part of the Konex Exhibition 100 Masterpieces – 100 Argentine Painters (anthological exhibition of Argentine painting) at the MNBA in Buenos Aires. He died in Paris in July 1986. In the following years his work was exhibited both in Buenos Aires and in dierent cities of Latin America. His works are in important public collections: Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York, USA; Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, Buenos Aires, Argentina; Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires, Argentina; Centro de Arte Contemporáneo, Córdoba, Argentina; Fundación Federico Jorge Klemm, Buenos Aires, Argentina; Museo de Arte Moderno de Buenos Aires, Argentina; Banco Ciudad, Buenos Aires, Argentina; Museo Municipal de Bellas Artes ̈Juan B. Castagnino ̈, Rosario, Argentina.

Oscar Bony

Oscar Bony (1941, Misiones). At the age of 17, he began to study painting with a hometown professor until traveling to Buenos Aires in 1959 to attend the Escuela Preparatoria de Bellas Artes Manuel Belgrano on a scholarship. However, he always considered himself a self-taught artist. Between 1959 and 1963 he attended classes at the studios of Demetrio Urruchúa and Juan Carlos Castagnino, while working as an assistant for Antonio Berni. His imagery during this initial phase reveals a certain expressive realism, along the lines of the new figuration movement. In 1964, his Anatomías series allowed him to enter the contemporary art circuit, where he was invited to participate in the Premio de Honor Ver y Estimar along with holding his first solo exhibition in one of the most important galleries in Buenos Aires, the Galería Rubbers. He formed part of the group of artists who frequented the Bar Moderno, where he befriended Rubén Santantonín, Pablo Suárez, Emilio Renart, and Ricardo Carreira.

From 1965 to 1968, his experiences with Pop Art, Minimalism, Conceptual Art, and objects positioned him amongst the most radical avant-garde movements then taking place in alternative galleries, like the previously mentioned Premio de Honor Ver y Estimar and also the Instituto Torcuato Di Tella. Bony exhibited installations, short films, objects, primary structures, and a sound piece. In May 1968, he hired a working-class family, exhibiting them “live” on a museum plinth for the Experiencias ’68 show at Instituto Di Tella. The reaction from the critic, the public, and the official art world was strong and grew stronger, as did divisions within the avant-garde movement itself. Exacerbated by tensions between art and politics, and the social, economic, and political crises of the time, the divisions became increasingly extreme and the fronts on which these struggles were being waged multiplied. Finally, in response to a court order to close down Roberto Plate’s piece in the show, the rest of the show´s artists decided to destroy their works and throw the remains onto Florida Street as a way of publicly denouncing the infringing act of censorship. It was the end of an era as Bony and several of his colleagues left their activity in the art field.

For almost six years, from 1968 onward, Bony worked as a photographer in the music industry. It was just at the time when the Argentine rock music scene was becoming a popular phenomenon, gaining access to mass communications media such as television, a product consumed by a young and rapidly expanding audience. Record companies had incorporated sales and publicity methods from other markets. Each album release was linked to concerts, festivals, and promotional campaigns. The albums included extensive liner notes, song lyrics, and photographs from special photo shoots and posters for the most popular icons. Each band’s profile was planned by designing wardrobes, hairstyles, and scenographies for their photo sessions and presentations, while various specialty magazines, film, radio, and television stations served as distributors. Bony played an active part in the rock scene and became one of the creators of its visual imagery during the time that he worked with the RCA record label. A certain Bony style became identifiable and distinguishable. The public image of rock bands such as Los GatosLa Joven GuardiaManal and Almendra was shaped through the lenses of his camera.

In 1974, Bony returned to the “high art” world, to his “professional” career. He produced paintings and photographs, had a few exhibitions, and finally made the decision he had considered but postponed for years: to leave the country and go into exile. He resided in Milan from 1977 until 1988, maintaining a constant presence in the Italian art scene for ten years, including shows in Spain, Ireland, France, and trips to the United States, and occasional contact with Buenos Aires. Once again, Bony was making installations, objects, montages, interventions, paintings, and mixed media pieces. He was invited to participate in the Milan Triennial and the Venice Biennial, where he began to flirt with styles like the trans avantgarde. And in February 1986 he opened two simultaneous solo shows in two of Milan’s most important galleries, Galleria Zeus Arte and Galleria Fac-Simile.

In 1988 Bony returned to Argentina. He explored, he worked; he waited patiently.
By 1993 he gained recognition once again with his De memoria show. Bony was yet another survivor of the 60s who dazzled younger artists, was respected by critics, and was intensely active. His 1994 golden- framed glasses, paper and lead pieces with bullet holes, together with his first photographs with glass and gunshots from 1996 on, upheld his eccentricity, his intensity, his rigour, his nomadic nature and magical gift for being one and many an artist at a time. He created installations and performances, such as Il limite, presented un-invited at the XLVI Biennale di Venezia; he handed out flyers, made declarations, and held exhibitions. In 1997 he was invited to participate in the 6ª Bienal de La Habana. El individuo y su memoria, in the I Bienal de Artes Visuais do Mercosul in Puerto Alegre, and the 5th International Istanbul Biennal. He said farewell to the century with considerable presence in the specialized press, providing a number of journalistic notes and talks thanks to the impact achieved with the series of “las baleadas” with El triunfo de la muerte exhibition presented at Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes (MNBA)in 1998.

La familia obrera from 1968, was reconstructed in Buenos Aires, New York, Madrid, and Ljubljana, and was widely recognized by the international contemporary art history community. Bony died in April of 2002 in Buenos Aires while still in full activity.

With the retrospective titled Oscar Bony. El Mago. Obras 1965-2001, which took place at the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires (Malba) in 2007; curated by chief curator Marcelo Pacheco, a phase of a decade of privileged circulation and diffusion of Bony’s art opened in the regional as well as the international world: Bony’s work participated in large exhibitions dedicated to the revisionism of conceptual art and minimalism and the early days of contemporary art in the United States and Europe; At the same time, his position was established even more by high-profile purchases by the Museum of Modern Art of New York (MoMA), the Kunsthaus in Zürich, and the Bengolea and Costantini collections in Buenos Aires.