Emilia Azcárate in studio
Emilia Azcárate in studio
Emilia Azcárate (Venezuela) presented recent work, created during her residency at CCA7, in her exhibition ‘cerca de mi’ (‘close to me’) in The Main Gallery at CCA7, a Centre for Contemporary Arts.
Azcárate considers herself to be a landscape painter. She has an innate interest in nature and its transmutations into new forms of landscapes. The process is supported by the appropriation of material taken out of the landscape, taking it out of context and later installed on canvas or even the gallery space.
In her work Azcárate has created her own visual vocabulary and language. This language is deeply rooted in her own life experiences, thoughts and ideas, giving her artistic form an expressive, intellectual and spiritual restlessness. For example, circular patterns show up in many of her pieces, as well as a beautiful organic linear quality that emerged during the residency. The visual repetitiveness of her work becomes a kinetic game, and internally becomes a mantra. She says that "repeating the same thing makes you separate from matter, it makes you detach."
Azcárate does not usually name her pieces. In one untitled piece, which includes bottle tops distributed in concentric circles, the variety of colours interact continuously, giving the illusion of expansion and contraction. Azcárate has been collecting bottle tops since her arrival in Trinidad. She picks them up on the streets in St. James and downtown. She says "junk is very important. What holds no value for others to me is material for creation. Whenever I walk the streets, I look at the pavement, and I collect anything that may be of some use." It is a work full of colour, joy and Trinidadian sounds, born out of her daily journeys through the streets of Port of Spain.
Emilia Azcárate was at CCA7 on the International Artist-in-Residency Programme for two months. She is the first participant in an exchange programme between Fundación La Llama of Venezuela and Caribbean Contemporary Arts (CCA). Through this exchange, Venezuelan and Trinidadian artists will be encouraged to expand their horizons, whilst participating in a culturally diverse programme, as well as time and space to explore new work. In the spirit of this exchange and dialogue Che Lovelace, from Trinidad, has been invited to initiate La Llama’s residency programme in Caracas (ARCA), later on this year.
Emilia Azcárate will be speaking about her work as part of CCA’s Talk Series, at 6.30 pm on Tuesday 28th August 2001. This is a free event. Also as part of CCA’s Summer Education Programme, Azcárate will be teaching a workshop at the Art Camp: Earth and Body, which is a two week long series of workshops in visual and performing arts for children, ages 8 – 18, from 13 August to 24 August 2001 at CCA7. Please call Rachel Watts on 625 1889/625 6805, or email her at mail@cca7.org, for more information about the workshop.
About the artist:
Emilia Azcárate was born in Caracas, Venezuela in 1964, and studied at St. Martins School of Art in London. Azcárate has participated in a number of group shows in Spain, Cuba, Colombia and Venezuela since 1988. She has also had a number of solo exhibitions, and recently opened a solo show in Valencia, Venezuela in July, ‘cerca de mi’ opening at CCA7 in Trinidad and will also open at the Spanish Cultural Centre in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic in September 2001. Azcárate’s work is in many major collections world wide such as the Coca-Cola Foundation in Madrid, Spain, the Sofia Imber Museum of Contemporary Art in Caracas, the Tanya Capriles de Brillembourg Collection in Miami and the Patricia Phelps de Cisneros Collection in Caracas.
The following is an article on Emilia Azcárate that was in the 23 July 2001 issue of El Nacional in Venezuela.
The article is both in English and Spanish
CULTURE
LITTLE BY LITTLE WITH Emilia Azcárate
Venezuelan Curators reject the body and spirit
The artist left the country to settle in Trinidad and expose herself to contemporary art projects in the island. Before her departure, she spoke of the artistic environment, her work, the forces that drive a young creator to seek other horizons outside Venezuela and the need to establish links with the Caribbean.
EDGAR ALFONZO-SIERRA
Hair, eyes and piercings are dominating elements in the work of Emilia Azcárate. As a woman and a human being, she addresses a figurative expressionist theme. There is something between her and the curved relief of those forgotten temples lying in the midst of the Hindustani rainforest. Intrigue. A bit of mystery and a voice that could be placed in the body of another woman – dark skinned, big and stout – who has given birth to many children.
She is a Venezuelan artist with Spanish blood running through her veins, with a mestizo spirit, whose work, created from residual organic materials in a spiritual sense, was recognized when she received the first prize of the Salón Arturo Michelena in 1999, and special mentions from the Premio ABC de Pintura of Spain, the Guyana Biennial, the Christian Dior Biennial, the Paisaje Biennial and the Premio Eugenio Mendoza.
During the course of this year, Azcárate spent three months in Trinidad pursuing an artistic residence sponsored by the La Llama Foundation, at CCA7, a Caribbean contemporary art centre that is beginning to capture the attention of Venezuelans involved in the field of art. The experience in the island was a truly valuable one. Now, Emilia will settle down opposite the coasts of Venezuela, in a land filled with colours, smells and flavours that are still unknown by those on this side of the sea.
- What is responsible for this move to Trinidad? Some discontent in the country? Perhaps, the difficulties of being a Venezuelan artist in Venezuela?
- I studied in England for nine years, in addition to which, I have a special weakness for India and its customs, even my spiritual director is Hindu and when I am in that country, I cannot be more comfortable. It just so happens that Trinidad is everything I have mentioned. It is a country located close to Venezuela of which no one has spoken. Most travellers are familiar with the United States and Europe, but are completely unaware of Trinidad, a place that is Caribbean, without being Latino. It is a culture that interests me because I myself am from the Caribbean. In Venezuela, we don’t recognize how fortunate we are to be Latino and Caribbean at the same time. I am fascinated with a culture so mixed, in which there is a little of everything in the people who are respectful and friendly toward you. There, the city bears a special colour and Trinidadians are an extraordinary people. You discover how a Hindu can be such a Trinidadian, while the English and even Chinese can also relate to being Trinidadian, they even speak with their own accents, but they are Trinidadians. Trinidad is such an interesting place. It is a place with an immensely positive energy. It is a country in which the only thing that must be done is work and where recycling, an essential element in my work, is an everyday thing. Therefore, you find beautiful things in the streets. Once I discovered a bottle cap that was flattened and perfectly cut to form a kind of star or sun. That was the key inspiration for one of my pieces that was made up of only bottle caps that I had found.
- Is there any conflict between Caracas and the country?
- Perhaps there are many inconveniences here, and one of the strongest is the material. Over there, things are now getting off the ground in contemporary art and it is particularly interesting to be there and take part in these efforts that are now beginning. Here, there are fewer calls to participate in such processes. Artists are not respected here. We are not considered, neither are our potentialities utilized except in the case of some places outside Caracas, such as the Ateneo de Valencia. In Trinidad, I get the sense that I am called to become involved and there are many opportunities for work and interesting cultural exchange. There are fascinating Jamaican artists and many Trinidadians study art in Jamaica. It is crucial for Venezuelans to establish relations with the Caribbean Sea. don’t know up to what point. I believe that we have many museums and potentialities, but I’m feeling connected with everything. My intention is not to criticize but to resolve, and I see that the needs of artists are not always accommodated within what is taking place. Now, by being presented with an opportunity such as this, I feel excited. Moreover, I am a person who is fascinated with people of different colour and culture. I believe there is always rejection here. You invite an artist, and if by chance he is black, then he is hardly ever seen, unless he is an Englishman that has been awarded a Turner Prize, or maybe a person with pomp, like Steve McQueen. However, if you are humble, young and expressing concerns about art, then there’s nothing for you. I’m interested in contemporary art and in Trinidad there is only one place, CCA7 (Caribbean Contemporary Art Centre). That initial opportunity is a great moment because there are fascinating artists and there is exchange.
- Warmth
- The very national artistic environment, the youth, the new generation, are they open to establishing a real, concrete and direct link with the Caribbean?
- If they don’t, they stand to lose. When I am there, on many occasions I find myself thinking about an artist that fascinates me, Juan Araujo. I think of him by his work. He is a trained artist who reproduces, thinks and delves deeply into painting and the works of artists still unknown to us, how that would affect his work, how he can change this portrayal of himself that seems so conservative, so old fashioned but which presents a totally contemporary image by the way in which he creates and makes you see a piece which, while it is a single piece of art, can fill up an entire contemporary exposition. What more can motivate even further a contemporary painter than such work? Or what would come from an artist like Alí González in Trinidad? For me, it was imperative to take part in a workshop conducted last year by the La Llama Foundation, and to share with other Venezuelan artists with whom I had not previously met.
- Does that mean that there is too much individuality among Venezuelan artists?
- What there is, is little risk of mixture among the curators that always call upon the same group of artists and neglect the rest. These curators, always paying special attention to the conceptual, tend to dismiss pieces with a spiritual and emotional charge like mine. I know the rejection that this generates and the rejection also brought about by the material, the corporal elements, the land and the body with which I work. Marianna Bunimov for example, was invited at a very young age to the Sao Paolo Biennial, was given an award and not seen again until her exposition at the Alejandro Otero Museum. We need to see more of the artists from the country. Here, millions of bolivars are spent on bringing an exposition from abroad, but to support a project to display Alí González or Blanca Haddad is impossible. They still have not realized that work from here has surprising substance.
- Brush
- Speaking of curators, it has been said that Emilia Azcárate is the Venezuelan Georgia O’Keefe.
- I’m not familiar with the life of Georgia O’Keefe, so I don’t know if we are alike, in fact, I very rarely know who I am. If I were to analyse who is Emilia Azcárate, then Emilia Azcárate would evolve at the speed of light. Perhaps, it seems that I’m a liar sometimes, but how can the lie not exist if changes are always taking place and altering us. You cannot continue thinking in one way if the things around you change you, and I have no control over what changes and what doesn’t, but, as for Georgia O’Keefe, I don’t even want to be her. I am quite content with being Emilia Azcárate.
- Have the curators been faithful to the work of Emilia Azcárate?
- I have had experiences where they have not allowed me do my work in peace and also where they have not understood what I am doing. It’s like a lack of respect and consideration. I believe that in this artist-curator relationship, quite often, the curator feels like he is under attack and thinks that he should be superior to the artist. He assembles the exposition and your criteria for displaying your work is of no interest to him because he already has a plan. For an exhibition hall, you can send a project six months in advance, but many things happen during the creation process, and they cannot hold you to what you previously said. The creative process is not a question of what I said, it does not entail an official commitment, it is an emotional commitment. That is what it represents for me. I don’t see that as a lack of professionalism, but you don’t know what happens until the work is complete. That is a risk that the curator must take. At times, they treat you and make you feel like a child. They want to control your life until you make it big. At the same time, I don’t want to sound like the victim but I haven’t felt comfortable. You always find yourself in conflict.
- It has been said that your work is a meditation.
- Repetition has been transformed into an obsession for me, a need that determines all my work. Fingerprints or handprints, brush, pencil, points or lines, whatever it maybe, I am constantly following the point that I previously made, following a pattern that has nothing to do with rigid mathematics, but which instead, is related to the theory of chaos. I began working with this, starting with fingerprints, thinking about the devotional practice of the Maha Mantra and my need to chant it and make it felt. I was thinking "Why only chant it among others? Why not chant it while I paint?" I enjoy the concentration and I admire the patience. This exercise is impossible without patience. However, all artistic work is essentially no more than a tool for living in this world, for being a human being in one way or another. In essence, that is what I believe, because what I have felt makes me paint, it drives me to make these repetitions and to speak about all of this, but it’s not because it is really creating something in me that can be used in another way beyond the subject, beyond painting or the exposition or the painting itself. Sometimes I am wrapped up in all of this and I think "Why is this concrete experience so necessary for me?" The things I create in the painting, I can also do without painting, without the need to capture them in a piece, and in any event I do them. I don’t know how to resolve these things. There are always questions and never any answers, and that is where I am left hanging. Since there are questions, I have to create something else in seeking the answer and by so doing, other questions arise. All things considered, I’m like an instrument, one more brush, I don’t know what I’m doing. I shouldn’t say that, but it’s the truth.
Photo
Name: Emilia de Azcárate
Place and date of birth: Caracas, May 6, 1964.
Religion: Hare Krishna
Status: Married in Radha Kunda, India, to musician Gustavo Corma, a member of the band Seguridad Nacional, in a ceremony officiated by her spiritual director, his divine grace Guru Paramahamsa Thakura Sri Srila Badrinarayana Bhagavata Bhusana.
Children: 3 year old son, Goura Prema (which means "brilliant love" in Sanskrit).
Artistic training: St. Martins School of Art, London.
Other jobs: Photographer, model and pastry cook.
Ancestry: Her grandfather, Justino de Azcárate, was Vice Minister of Justice during the last Spanish Republic. He was imprisoned by the forces of the dictator Francisco Franco and lived his political exile in Venezuela until Franco’s death, when he was appointed Royal Senator by King Juan Carlos de Borbón. He then served as President of the Museo del Prado Foundation in Madrid. He took the first steps toward having Pablo Picasso’s Guernica returned to Spain. He supported Venezuelan arts and was the founding director of the Mendoza Exhibition Room of Caracas.
Projects: Currently exhibiting her work at the Marlborough Gallery in Madrid. She will display her work this year at CCA7 (Caribbean Contemporary Art Centre) in Trinidad, and at the Casa Cultural de España in Santo Domingo, the Dominican Republic.
Mother of hair and milking
Emilia Azcárate recovers in her art what the body excretes: bees wax, cow dung, mother’s milk. Her work meditates on recycling and recovery, waste as a natural complex blessing. As she stated "Dung is an elevated spiritual element: food for the earth, medicine for skin diseases, the base for incenses in India, coal for bonfires, adobe bricks for houses, a weapon which when incinerated disperses bad spirits and an antiseptic when mixed with urea."
"During a children’s workshop that I conducted last week at the Ateneo de Valencia, a nine year old boy said to me "Emilia, I really enjoyed the experience because everything was disgusting but rich." A guide at the museum, an adolescent, told me "This was a marvellous experience for me, you are breaking programmes." Yes, it is a matter of breaking programmes. You have been told all your life that faeces is not to be touched. When I was a child, I loved the smell of dung and when I went to India, I saw how the women work with it. I like it because it is a process in which creation is not merely an act of painting. I like the fact that it can be used for a great many things. My fondest childhood memories are mixed with the smell of dung. Then I discovered its remarkable pictorial qualities. The print of the dung is certainly not the same as the print of any other pigment."
"I use milking dung because I believe that the cow is a second mother and there is something beautiful about the calf approaching the udders of the cow to stimulate it before being milked. At that moment, she begins to release fluids, excrete and urinate at the same time as she begins to nurse. There is an extraordinary relation between sounds: her organic contractions and the act of milking. I have also created a piece with my own breast milk. It can be said that I am obsessed with this fluid and with being a mother. I haven’t done any psychological analyses where this is concerned, but I know that artistically speaking, the maternal figure is essential in me. The circles that I make in my pieces are feminine, mother earth, the globe. In India, the circle is Parvati, the spouse of Lord Shiva."
"I use fresh dung that is collected during milking, therefore I begin to work very early in the morning. What interests me is that it is fresh at the moment it touches the piece. The process comes naturally to me and should have many explanations and reasons, which I have only studied vaguely. I have also worked with it dried. Whatever is left over I am using to assemble a chain or a type of intestine and if it is in powder form, I recycle it in sculptures and paintings. That is how I relate."
"The other material that fascinates me is hair. I use the daily and routine ritual of brushing my hair and cleaning the brush. What remains on the brush I use to make a sphere, a ball that I consider beautiful and which I keep. This creates a type of personal diary, an account of your routine. Visually, it is a piece of writing, a drawing, a painting in which the role of the woman is evident once again. Woman’s strength from the hair. Her chastity in terms of herself, in other words, her integrity. I have always said that I have worked a great deal with altered states of consciousness and these are brought about from the simplest of things like getting up and washing your face."
EL NACIONAL Newspaper – Monday 23 July, 2001.
Copyright 2000. CA Editora EL NACIONAL. All rights reserved.
‘cerca de mi’ was part of CCA's continuous programme of exhibitions in the Main Gallery at CCA7 from August 3rd to September 22nd 2001.