I AND THOU*: Processes of Abandonment and Anorexic Purification in
César Trasobares'
New
Sculptures
By Tami Katz-Freiman
Encountering that rare, purified moment in which an artist changes direction,
deciding to go against (his own as well as society's) expectations, at times
surprising even himself - is, for me, one of the most intriguing experiences
involved in the meeting with artists. Being present at the scene of these crossroad
moments; in those critical keypoints in the personal and artistic development
of an artist, those unique moments from which far reaching transformations
in the thought as well as the stylistic direction are derived - this is the
greatest
profit I can gain from my profession. As an accidental passerby, I had the
chance to experience such a crossroad event in César Trasobares' artistic development,
and from this point of view I would like to propose my reading of his new, surprising
body of works exhibited here.
The point of departure for the discussion of these works is abandonment.
A less dramatic word would be refinement. In both cases, it is the
outcome of an anorexic
process - a visual diet during which narrative, local, political, ethnic,
representative, iconographic, biographical, theatrical and emotional
elements have been removed
from the menu; all these have been compressed and squeezed, as it were, into
the wood and marble boards, reduced to two material elements only, perfected
into an ascetic minimalist choreography of designed structural shapes in
natural colors of wood and marble. One may talk about an abandonment
of color, of a personal
handwriting; an abandonment of a wealth of materials, of the very practice
of making; abandonment of slack, loose, soft elements in favor of an
impressive
demonstration of perfection and smoothness, in favor of the universal beauty
of the pure shape. This process of refinement and purification is like walking
on the edge. It invites questions regarding the causes that had led to it,
reflections on the meaning of abandonment and a search for the answers
in the personal biography.
This isn't the place to go into speculations of that sort. I will only say
that if there was a sense of impasse or crisis here, Trasobares has
emerged upright
and strengthened, devoid of sentimentality and nostalgia, introverting to
find his answers in the intense focusing on the sculptural act.
In an era which treats beauty with suspicion, taking it as a sign of the
cancellation of logic in the face of temptation, as a decorative weakness
or a political
incorrectness - in the sense of refraining from dealing with "real
life"encountering
the beauty of Trasobares' new sculptures was not easy for me. The ascetic,
simple beauty they radiate is almost erotic; it is an existing, rather
than mediating
beauty, in the sense of "its being there". The fascination rendered
by the beauty of the shapes and the formal and material set of relations
took me back to the texts of the theoretician Dave Hickey, who has recently
attempted
to reintroduce the rhetoric of "beauty" and the "beautiful" into
the current artistic discourse and bring the work of art into a tempting,
disconcerting position of accessibility. In his texts he tries to redeem
art from the preoccupation
with the political and the institutional, challenging the discussion which
shifts the viewer's attention from art itself.(1) This act of shifting
the viewer's attention
back to "art itself", especially by someone for whom the preoccupation
with the political and the institutional has been at the core of his artistic
work, to the extent of exhaustion, may be interpreted in a positive reading
as a radical act, and in an austere reading as a kind of relinquishment,
reconciliation, or simply giving up as part of maturing.
Without going into the ethical aspects involved in Trasobares' crucial
decisions, one may say that we are witnessing here a conscious choice
of a lean, naked,
economical structural image, that at fIrst sight is read as a remnant
of high-modernistic formalism, free of any content-oriented intentions,
and
only a more profound
examination extracts from it metaphorical elements which pull in the
direction of silence, passivity, solitude and introversion. A closer
look will reveal
that the minimalist expression, strict and austere as it may be, also
makes it possible
to convey to the viewer the sense of yearning for the unreachable in
a no lesslyrical manner. Any discussion of the chair sculptures exhibited
here
will be navigated,
from now on, by an entangled web of metaphors which occupy the twilight
zone between rhetoric and poetics. Rhetoric deals, among other things,
with classification.
In the case of sculpture, it is based on a historical discussion and
on
what is called the formalist aspect of the artistic discourse (in this
context
one can talk about the link of these sculptures to modernist sculpture).
Poetics
invites the metaphor into its realm. The chair as a trivial, ordinary,
mundane object, devoid of aura, which has been dispossessed of its function
in the
practical sphere and placed naked and bare in the gallery space, is charged
at once with
a metaphorical meaning. This is not exactly the case of Trasobares, since
his is a carefully structured chair, not a ready-made. However, in principle,
one
may say that any sculpture which adopts the contour lines of furniture
embeds something of the delusive surrealist sensitivity, in the sense
of metamorphosis;
that is, an object whose production circumstances have changed, thus
changing its context too.
The chair, formally defined as a structure with a back and a seat standing
on the ground, is a central motif in the dialectics inherent in the
relations of
signifier-signified. The person who was supposed to sit on it is present
in his absence, thus the chair is a signifier which the signified clings
to, as an extension
of the self. The anthropomorphic nature of the chair is suggested by
the legs, the seat, the back; by its symmetrical qualities and vertical
erectness.
In this
sense, it is convenient to read Trasobares' chairs as human figures
(male and female?), whose juxtaposition expresses a conflict or a dialogue
of some kind.
The spare choreography, which dictates the positioning of the chairs
in space, determines the nature of the dialogue and dictates the
kind of energies
transmitted
between the pairs of sculptures. This choreography relies on two
visual principles: duality and symmetry. The chair-like structures
are grounded,
pushed to the
horizontal. When negating for a moment the metaphorical meanings
and the utilitarian aspects
derived from the very choice of the chair motif, it is possible to
observe in this layout a crisscross pattern of horizontal and vertical
abstraction;
horizontality
which is close-to-theground confronted with vertical (urban? monumental?)
erections of various heights (of the chair's back).
The long and divided structure of the space leads the viewer, as it were, to a kind of atrium - a sacred section, an altar. In the ftontaJ section of the space there are four sculptural unitS, comprised of pairs of sculptures and ten ftamed drawings hanging on the wall. The chairs always function as carriers, as bases supporting other objects (blocks of marble), usualIy located around the seat which is, in turn, divided horizontally and/or verticalIy. The marble blocks, which serve as "cushions", bear geometrical (square, conic, rectangular) and organic (laurels, tears) shapes in accordance with the symbolic meaning charged in them. The colors have also been carefulIy picked: pinks versus blacks, opaque versus fleshy, off-white alongside the pale milkiness of the wood. A symbolic positioning of the two chairs facing one another - Your Beef My Laurels versus Your Laurels My Beef, or Four Laurels Two Tears versus Two Laurels Four Tears - feelings versus achievements; personal encounters: who suffers more, who is happier; I and I Thou; a mechanism of psychology; interpersonal relations; analyst and patient; man and woman; man and man.
Situated in the passage between the two parts of the gallery are
four chaircolumns like bodyguards, sentries. Their sequential placement
in the narrow part
of the gallery's neck creates a feeling of SOme kind of corridor
leading
to a
climax.
The high seats which are discordant with any calculation of human
engineering and eliminate any possibility for practical use, are
also divided into
a grid of shelves populating geometrical and organic marble articles,
possibly abstract
objects, possibly a schematization of body organs. The elevation
of the seats
brings to mind an exalted throne, a totem-like object, elevated
to monumental dimensions and charged with mythical-ritualistic meanings
which dwarf
the person confronting it. The rear section, the atrium area, populates
two
table sculptures
- the result of combining two '. chairs facing one another: one
bearing
a "feminine" object,
the other a "masculine" one. On the far end, in the enclave, there
is a pile of more than thirty units of organic-shaped marblespossibly laurels,
possibly tears - a . ~1 homage to the artist Felix GonzalezTorres who recently
passed away at the age of 38. The achievements, as well as the tears, are carved
in a flesh-colored stone.
The decrease in the scale
of emotionality with which Trasobares looks at things today is conspicuous,
especially in light i of
his "Cuban" works from
twenty years . ago. In order to understand how radical his move is, how extreme
is the decision he made in striving towards the specific qualities, towards the
zero point of shapes and materials, one must go back to the raft motif, which
had been charged by him as a political symbol of exile, long before it became
commonplace as the ultimate overused icon of Cuban art. Moreover, one has to
go back to the series of works related to the Quinceanera - a Cuban initiation
ceremony for girls - which had been described by him through an archaeo I ogi
cal-anthropo I 0 gi cal approach, as a trenchant portrait of what he calls a "dying
social ritual". Indeed, the ironic-parodical-critical approach
which had characterized that series (related to social conventions
of sexual behavior)
had by then already marked, in fact, the way out of the Cuban
ghetto. Yet, the formal language - the material, collagistic
wealth, the assemblagisticnature,
the multiplicity of personal items, the boxes, the purses, the
ornaments, the drawers, the showcases, the flowers, the garments,
the sequins, the cheap jewels,
the souvenirs, the 'grandmotherly' lace, the gold, the velvet
- all these had still been anchored in the earthly, pulpy, soft
element of life, and had composed
a personal mosaic saturated with childhood memories; a fantasy
which had referred to memory mechanisms and to the way in which
nostalgia kills memory.
Long before the Cuban discourse
became attractive in the New York art market (with all the cliches and expectations
for "multi-cultural authenticity" involved),
Trasobares had already deconstructed the iconography of the
exiled culture. Towards the end of the eighties, when the authentic, multicultural
wave reached its peak,
Trasobares had already been past that stage. He stopped identifYing
himself as a "Cuban" artist and sought to evade any kind of restricting
ethnic demarcation. "Art is a universal language. Any attempt
to attribute it to a specific district only makes it problematic
and limited... I know what
happens
to an artist who becomes the 'representative of hislher culture'...
I no longer wish to carry around with me, wherever I go, my
cultural
luggage and ethnic
heritage; from now on, I carry around in my suitcase only things
I really need." (2)
In a preliminary conversation we held, Trasobares used the
image of "fever" when
depicting the period he was preoccupied with local themes. The process he has
undergone since then seems to him like a syndrome of healing . However, the process
ofpurification from the past, cleansing from the ethnic elements, the shift from
a specific discussion of Cuban politics and a strategy of exile to a more general
discussion referring to the politics of the art world as an embodiment of power
mechanisms, and from there - the shift to the pure shape - all this doesn't happen
over night. These are moves which have required a long line of decisions concerning
form and material, essentially involving reduction, cancellation, relinquishment
and avoidance. One of the most interesting and symptomatic stages in this process
is expressed in the series of drawings presented here, which still embodies both
extremes in their loose form: the human element versus the anonymous, design
element. The works exhibited here are a small selection taken from a large series
(Furniture in my Head), which was accumulated between the years 1989-1993, immediately
after finishing his public office as director of the Metro-Dade's Art in Public
Places. Following a short period of cooling off and abstaining from actual artistic
creation (due to the obligation of his public service), there was something therapeutic
in this sweeping attack on countless papers, with swift, automatic ink scribbles,
Rorschachian in nature. The series as a whole deals with two intertwined and
interwoven motifs: a self-portrait and some element of furniture - a chair, a
cabinet, or an architectural structure. The portrait is always turbulent, painterly,
nearly abstract, rich with adrenaline, blotted and moist, whereas the furniture
or the structure, which is transferred to the paper by a Xeroxing technique,
is always solid, clean and dry. These two motifs clearly demonstrate the duality
underlying Trasobares' (artist/designer) work and personality, thus one may treat
the series as a whole as a reference clarifYing the current body of sculptural
works. In fact, in these drawings the artist has stretched to the limit the possibility
of merger between two formal extremes. On the one hand, the expressive, free-hand
pole, reminiscent of the Surrealist Automatic Writing and the literary moves
preceding Surrealism, which were defined by Mallarme as processes of "transposition",
later known as "stream of consciousness"; and on
the other hand, the conceptual, logical, austere pole, anchored
in
unshakable structural logic.
The
obsessive preoccupation with the creative, feverish mind, the
projection of the self onto paper, this flooding which blurs
anatomic details, all these
confront
the need to reach accuracy and order.
In their transfiguration
as drawings, the chairs are always referents to "culture":
collective cultural memories of architectural-design elements
which have become with time distinct icons of modernism -
Rietveld's chair, the Breuer Chair,
the Mackintosh Chair - classical design models, considered
archetypes of modernity, which have achieved a status of
classics. There
are other drawings in which
images
from classic architecture (the Colosseum) flicker from misty,
stormy landscapes. Always contrasting elements: internal
landscapes and cultural structures, private
expression and public posing, chaos and order.
The shift from two-dimensional representation of identified chairs
to an actual, three-dimensional production of anonymous chairs
was a natural
course which can
be described as a shift from terrains of the public sphere into
territories belonging to the spiritual, private sphere of the artist.
In a paradoxical
manner, a reversed
move has occurred: after the spontaneous drawings which had concealed
design
icons belonging to the public sphere (art history) came the chair
sculptures, which despite being the result of an industrial, accurate
preliminary
planning, and despite the fact that in the course of their production
the personal
handwriting has been erased completely, and no trace of that flowing
and lightness has remained,
they still convey personal, almost intimate, feelings.
One of the stages preceding
the current chair series - we may call it an intermediary stage in the process
of
abandonment,
since it
was still
charged
with the social-political
interest, yet already marked by an actual production
of design objects (though still not designed by the artist
himself)produced
two key
works: Casting
Couch for an American Biennial (I 993) and an installation
of chairs - Museum of
American Democratic Art: Tumbling Chairs (1994). In Casting
Couch, Trasobares makes an
ironic use of the familiar modernist furniture of Mies
van der Rohe, while shifting the design meaning to other
political-institutional
channels and
to the goring
of power and authority mechanisms within the art world.
The question
raised was what is defined as "American" in the "American I Biennial" and
what isn't? And how can one still get into the Biennial (via the curator's bed?
or perhaps Freud's couch might help?), and mainly, who decides? - these are questions
originating from an ironic, sarcastic point of view of someone whose identity
has been defined by the center, and in any case, has been demarcated under the
category of the "other".
In the Tumbling Chairs installation made for the Center for the
Fine Arts in 1994, Trasobares has stretched the limits of his criticism
on the meta-narrative
of the art world, aiming his arrows directly at the soft spot of
the intra-institutional hierarchy. A stack of eighty Director Chairs,
a
colorful, pyramid-like
construction, was set as a metaphor for the human structure (virtual
Table of Organization)
constituting well oiled museum systems. The back supports of the
chairs carry the titles designating holders of various positions.
The top
of the pyramid
is
occupied by the label DIRECTOR: MUSEUM MARKETING, and underneath
one can find, among others, the following positions: CURATOR MAINSTREAM/
CURATOR
INSANE ART/
TRUSTEE LATINOPOWERHORSLEADER SUBLIMINALIA/ CONSULTANT CONVERGENCE/CURATOR
POLITICAL CORRECTNESS. In the spirit of institutional criticism
a-la
Hans Haacke and Marcel
Broodthaers, Trasobares is cynically unmasking here institutional
categorization
methods and systems of knowledge, which dictate taste and constitute
cultural decisions, raising the question of what happens to values
when they are
connected to power and authority.
An entirely different role (a metaphor in the psychological direction)
is given to the chairs in another work (I 995), more introverted,
which bears
an autobiographical
shade (separation?): three pairs of chairs with marble boards or
sketch books attached to their backs. Here, the meaning of a chair/pedestal
is more conspicuous,
and a dialectical relationship is starting to crystallize between
the
drawing and the texture of the marble, between one chair and another,
as a dialogue
between two, always two, I and Thou (Martin Buber), you and I,
together and apart, through
mutuality in the system of impressions and' pressures one leaves
on the other.
This element will receive
a more refined and perfected expression in the current exhibition, which,
to a
large extent, ties
up loose ends
by speaking
an abstract
universal language. Dialogue and duality are the
key words to the understanding of the works exhibited
here.
One may
call these
works "conversation pieces" in
me sense that you can feel the dispositions of
one against the other, the transmission of messages.
The duality
is found on
nearly every possible level: from the
tension between representation and abstraction,
between
order and chaos, between rational
and irrational, through the fluctuation between
close and remote, industrial and intimate, cold
(marble)
and warm
(wood), negative
and positive, random
and expected, organic and geometric, to the dichotomy
of masculine/feminine, nature/culture,
matter/spirit. One of the most protruding dualistic
elements in these works is the tension between
the geometrical
and the concrete. Geometry deals with
an
ideal world of spaceless points, lines devoid of
thickness and boundless planes; the concrete is
units of texture,
surfaces and encounters between different
surfaces and volumes, organized spaces which assign
a place for
each and every object.
The choice of two basic
materials - marble which is a geological product of millions of years, and
wood which is a changing organic material,
influenced
by environmental
conditions such as temperature and moisture -
is also charged with dual meaning. Imitative textural qualities can be ascribed
to both
materials
(the eyes
of the wood and the cloud-like flesh-like texture
of the marble); both are classical
materials in the sense of the artistic language,
yet each pulls in a different direction. the wood towards organic contexts,
toward
furniture and design,
and the marble towards more austere contexts
of architecture: commemoration (public
monuments, gravestones) and class hierarchy.
As for the current cultural context, it is hard to locate this
sculpture work. Are these works modernistic in nature? Do they
preserve the
modernistic utopia?
Can one at all think nowadays of works of art in light of the Greenbergian
reductionism? And if not, how do they deviate from Modernism? What
do they have in common with
the postmodernism of the end of the millennium? The answers to
these questions are not unequivocal, and they leave many doubts.
Placing
these works within
a cultural-historical context may provide some of the answers,
and I will attempt
to do so through a discussion of the empty chair motif, while examining
the diverse influences and possible links.
The chair motif has intensified
and strengthened throughout the history of human culture, from
the functional aspect
as well
as ITom the
metaphorical and symbolic
contexts attached to it in the course of
time. The twentieth centUl)' culture, in its reductive
skeptical
way, has
tended to use this
motif in its empty
state, unmanned. Indeed, the "empty
chair" motif
is intertwined throughout twentieth century
art. Although it had
also been used prior to the modern era
(in Vermeer's works, for example), it seems
that over the last century the empty chair
has acquired
an amazing,
almost compulsive,
presence in most art
movements.
A quick and noncomprehensive inventory brings
to mind Gauguin's
chair, as painted by Van Gogh; Magritte's
empty, floating chair, the chairs of Francis
Bacon,
crying out in their loneliness, Giacometti's
studio chairs, the overturned chairs of
Jasper Johns and Rauschenberg, Lucas Samaras'
chairs, and, of course, Andy Warhol's electric
chair. One
can also add
to this
inventory list Joseph Beuys'
and Anselm
Kiefer's chairs, which are unmanned, yet
saturated with human temperatures; charged
with the echoing
memory of
their owners.
Among contemporary artists
one can mention
Bruce Nauman, who has cast the space underneath
his chair as a disconcerting gesture of negation,
and
Vito Acconci's
awaiting
set of seats.
A swift retrospective glance at the variety
of empty chairs populating the works of contemporary
artists,
while focusing
on the three
dimensional department
of
art history, reveal that this motif has been
incorporated in modern sculpture under a
wide range of contexts,
which can
be grouped
around three related
axes or moves: the first is linked to undermining
the status of the pedestal or
the frame (in the case of painting) as a
marker separating the world of art from
everyday reality. The sculpture's pedestal
or
base has been replaces by the chair - a trivial
object,
devoid
of aura
- in an attempt
to undermine the
necessity of this radical division (for example,
Duchamp's bicycle wheel). The second
axis
is based on the triviality and neutrality
of the chair, being an object in the literal
sense,
unlike
a charged
metaphorical
object.
In this
category one may
include Donald Judd's tautological approach,
asserting that a-chair-as-achair-as-a-chair,
or Joseph Kossuth'
conceptual practice, exhibiting in the gallery
space the
dictionary definition of "chair",
the concrete chair and its ' photograph.
In contrast,
the third
axis charges the
chair with existential meanings in
the spirit
of the presentabsent: like the empty garment,
carrying with it memories, feelings and thoughts
of the
body that had worn
it,
the empty chair is charged with
the absent-presence of its owner, thus acquiring
a meaning of traces, a kind of mold
of the human body being impressed in it;
a negative picture of a blurred identity,
an
existential
condition of the
probing self
thrust into space, in the style
of Beckett's Waiting for Godot.
These three axes exist
simultaneously in Trasobares' chair sculptures: the chair as
pedestal (as
carrier of marble
blocks, as shelf);
the chair as a "clean", "objective" thing,
devoid of local narrative and of any content-oriented-associative
charge; and the chair as an existential
metaphor (the absence of a human element),
whose
positioning against other chairs constitutes
a mystical environment. The third axis
immediately cancels any possibility of
a puristic reductive reading a-Ia
Greenberg. According to Greenberg, every
metaphor is a mimetic reference to reality.
Hence, anything that maintains links with
the "world" (outside
art) is cast out. Trasobares' sculptures
do not obey this autistic definition. This
is
not the
zero point
of art,
nor the empty
stage as a kind of silent
theater, nor the bare canvas in painting.
Echoes of the Greenbergian approach can
be found
only at the heart of the cathartic process
of formal purification, and in the perception
that
art develops
as a continual
process of simplification and self-purification.
Trasobares' chairs/sculptures
bring to mind several historical-aesthetic courses:
they
may relate
to "Neo-Plasticism" which had
engaged in geometrical relations and
contrasts of light, just as they may
echo trends in Russian Constructivism
which had been preoccupied with the mutual
relations between a sculptural form
and an architectural structure; likewise,
it is convenient to connect them to European
Formalism like that of Brancusi, which
is based on archetypal, concise
and restrained formalism, charged with
traditional rituals and myths (Brancusi
was the first artist who added a furniture
resemblance to the sculptural qualities,
and his sculptural-conceptual approach
certainly influenced many trends in sculpture
of the twentieth century); it is just
as easy to anchor them in postminimalist
trends of the last thirty years. However,
if the diversity of influences were to
be eliminated, one would end up with
two clear sources of influenceDonald
Judd and Scott Burton - each in his own
way had refined an archetype referring
to solid, rectangular, grounded furniture,
sharing the space with the viewer. On
the visual level, there is a distinct
formal similarity, at least in the sense
that with the three of them, all the
furniture-sculptural components always
obey
some centralizing pattern of an axis,
or a center of gravity anchoring them
to the ground. Yet, the deeper one takes
the comparison, the greater the differences
than the points of similarity: Donald
Judd's tautological definition of sculpture
(a-form-as-a-form), which eliminates
any "literary" meaning
deviating from the pure language of art,
is not relevant in this case, just as
the decorative-functional
elements characterizing Scott Burton's
furnituresculptures are alien to his
world view.
Despite the apparent points of tangency (a serial-quality, symmetry
focused towards a central axis, an abstraction which appropriates
certain formal
qualities of
furniture, an inclination toward horizontality, closeness-to-theground,
a commitment to the materials), Trasobares' sculpture deviates
from the reductionistic-utopistic
sculptural logic. From an intricate network of intersections and
influences, and after completing a circle of 360 degrees from the
private sphere
to the public-social
sphere and back to the private sphere, he achieves, at last, reconciliation
and harmony, from a far less ideal or romantic position. He has
refined the sculptural
language into a metaphorical designation oflinks between subjects,
a diagram notation of relationships and views between human beings,
an
outlining
of positions and mutual relations, links of 1 and Thou. One may
describe the
debate between
private and public, or the extent to which art is committed to
reality as the essence of modernist and post-modernist views. It
is hard
to determine which
of the two is a mirror reflection in this case. Are these the fragments
of
modernism reflected in the mirror fragments as a reflection of
a reality devoid of ideology?
Or, perhaps, a reflection of a new, non dogmatic, belief in simple
human love between me and you.
Miami, February 1996,
[Translated by Daria Kassovsky]
(1) Dave Hickey, The Invisible Dragon, Art issues Press, Los Angeles,
1993.
(2) Taken from a preliminary conversation with the artist
Source: MIAMI ART PAPER, March 1996, Vol. 1 No. 1, published by Ambrosino Gallery, Coral Gables