A day at the Museum

Today I went to the Museo of Bellas Artes for an exhibition on the Ecuatorian artist Oswaldo Guayasamin. As a member of the Cubist movement many of his works share artistic interpretation with Picasso.

The images collapse the three dimensional space on canvas but use geometric shapes and color to convey depth and mood. One particular work that had a profound affect on me was titled, ¨Mujeres llorando/Women Crying.¨It´s a seven panel piece featuring seven women in various positions of grief. The dark grey background contrasts against the black shrouds surrounding the heads and hands of the women depicted. No other body parts are included in depicting the female form. The faces and hands are lined and stark white against the shrouds that cover them. The shrouds are assymtrical geometric figures that frame the women´s round and weathered hands and faces. The strong lines are employed to convey distinction, age, and division between spaces and colors, as well as to enhance the mood. The faces are solemn and still but they express profound grief and sorrow. The use of black and grey enhances the melancholy mood of each panel but the seven panels shown consecutively multiplies and intensifies the sentiment. The first thought that came to mind when I first saw these paintings were the images of Muslim women in Iraq or Palestine crying over the corpses of family members and children after a bombing or attack.

Some of the work in the exhibition reflect a somber perspective on international political issues. For example, another painting that caught my eye was called El Guerillero/The Guerilla. The head of El Guerillero/The Guerilla is suspended in the space of the canvas against a grey background marked with smudges and streaks from dirt, oil, spills, scrapes, graffitti, and pollution. His eyes are closed shut. Almost with force. His face, like the grey background that surrounds him is also marked but with dirt, blood, scars, new wounds, and bruises. Random but naturally placed is the color red to convey blood. The red paint is smudged and lays awkward on the canvas as if to let the blood flow as it may. There is anguish and great pain in his face. His head is suspended with no connection to a neck or body evoking a feeling of isolation, loneliness, and internal solitude. The painting of El Guerillero/The Guerilla encourages the viewer to feel sympathy or to empathize with the subject. Void of the political implications of what it means to be a guerillero Guayasamin doesn´t make him a hero. Instead he makes him human, softening the hard image we have all come to know. In humanizing him, he is almost reduced, stripped of the ultra-masculinity associated with a guerillero. He is not a stone killer nor a revolutionary hero but a man struggling to deal with his past battles, struggles and current state of existence.

Another highlight of my trip was learning about a Venezuelan artist, Lourdes Silva, who works in metals. The pieces are exquisite and distinct.

You can try and check out the museum at www.museodebellasartes.org