Adrianna eu, Anna Helena Cazzani, Anna Paola Protásio, Bel Barcellos, Luiza Baldan, Marina Weffort, Ricardo Becker, Wagner Malta Tavares
Dates: 03/02 – 10/03/2019
Artists: Adrianna eu, Anna Helena Cazzani, Anna Paola Protásio, Bel Barcellos, Luiza Baldan, Marina Weffort, Ricardo Becker and Wagner Malta Tavares
Curation: Gabriela Davies
Location: Galeria Aymoré
Lacunas Preenchidas [Completed Lacunae]
There are remembrances that do not rest until the pen or the tongue publishes them. One of the ancients has said he loathed a guest with a good memory. Life is filled with such guests, and I perhaps am one of them, though proof of having a weak memory be the very fact that the name of that ancient does not occur to me at the moment, but he was one of the ancients and that’s enough.
A line crosses a space. Tensioned on particular points that create its shape. They are spatial traits that offer the idea of volume without it actually existing. In parallel, strands of lines are separated, bundled, and merged so that the beginning and end become nonexistent; irrelevant. A memory of a history whose importance lies in the trajectory and in the occurrence rather than in its conclusion. Like a flock of birds – a scene still common in our daily lives, but one we do not remember when it was last seen. An encounter that leads beyond expectations, but that only parts of it are remembered afterwards. It is to know its origins, but without remembering the beginning, it is to remember a present-past still existing. Continuous travel that is built through (re) interpretations, which is constantly mutating from one to several bodies. A house, a city, which is carried through memory into other spaces that enable its full comprehension.
No, no, my memory is not very good. On the contrary, it is comparable to a man who has lived in boarding houses without retaining either faces or names, but only scattered details. If a man passes his life in the same family house with its eternal furnishings and customs, persons and affections, everything is chiseled into him by continuity and repetition. How I envy those who have not forgotten the colour of their first trousers! I am not sure the colour of those I put on yesterday. I can only swear they were not yellow, because I detest that colour – but even this may be forgetfulness and confusion.
Light, soft and simple tones are used, but that in the slightest detail one can note the system of the trace and its removal. What exists is as important as what was removed. Spaces gain the relevance of matter itself. A suggestion of unlikely and delicate tension… of matters that create unusual pairs. Lines that hold, restrict and cut dense volumes like those of spheres. Engineering parts such as huge towers whose density disappears under mist. Areas that are obfuscated, bordering oblivion. Space that creates new spans for other forms to emerge. They are keys that open new paths to the vision; spaces that allow them to fill in the form that best presents them. But until the conclusion is reached, innumerable considerations will arise in this path.
And rather forgetfulness than confusion! I will explain myself. There is no way of emending a confused book, but everything may be supplied in the case of books with omissions. For my part, when I read one of the latter type I am not bothered a bit. What do I, on arriving at the end, is to shut my eyes and evoke all the things which I did not find in it. How many fine ideas come to me then! What profound reflections! The rivers, mountains, churches, which I did not find on the written page, all now appear to me with their waters, their trees, their altars; and the generals draw swords that never left their scabbards, and the clarion releases notes that slept in the metal, and everything marches with sudden soul. The fact is, everything is to be found outside a book that has gaps, gentle reader. This way I fill in other people’s lacunae; in the same way you may fill in mine.
Translated from: Machado de Assis, Capítulo LIX – Convivas de Boa Memória, “Dom Casmurro” (1899)*
*It would be quite pretentious if my intention were to level myself with that of Casmurro and the master behind this great work. But at his own invitation, I propose here the lacunae to be filled. A text is here presented in form of exhibition for its reader to fill the gaps thorugh their own unique understanding. However, if the gaps are actually fulfilled, then we begin by questioning how.