This temporary thickness expands through the rest of the exhibition. So, the work continues to occupy the same place, in different ways.
On this occasion, Juliana has also reopened the time of the piece by making new cuts on the molds, altering their profiles and using new voids to refer to the fear of a body curling up in a ball. Creating a structure of plaster skins with the contour of her body, Cerqueira the sections of an archaic skeleton or the folds of a huge flower, whose petals and leaves seem to be able to cross all dimensions. One of the pieces that best represents this way of working would be Curl 2 (2014) in which the artist has compacted different positions of her body in a single space. On the contrary, it is a matter of preventing the linear or historical condition of the works from gaining ground over the overflowing spatial condition of time, enlarging the pool of moments rather than opening a stream of events. The purpose of the show has nothing to do with a hindsight.
#COLOR ZEN CHAPTER 4 SERIES#
Or an end that is a beginning.įor this fourth part of the cycle, the artist presents three works that operate from this spatial inversion (Curl 2, Contraction 1, Head) together with a series of recent drawings that emphasize rehearsal, repetition and the memory of a body. When we look at her plaster volumes, what we see is actually a very narrow inside that has become a powerful outside. On the contrary, Cerqueira thinks of sculpture from within the clay, occupying the volume, casting molds of her body or building giant structures in which to crawl and pierce the space. This space isn`t a negative space, or at least not in the way Artax sank with grief. For her, sculpture is not conceived from the outside, modeling or carving a volume, but from within, inhabiting and piercing the cast that we never see. Juliana Cerqueira Leite (Yolanda, 1981) has been working for years in a way similar to how space folds in a sock or how time thickens in a swamp. While this was happening this exhibition cycle of the Swamp of Forever was postponed indefinitely, self-fulfilling its name as if it were a prophecy that never intended to be turning time around like a sock and making the last chapter of the cycle, Origin, now the first exhibition of the first year after everything else. Intermittently, the situation has confronted us with moments of utter indolence, when not of deep sadness. I don’t think I’m the only one who has felt like Artax at some point this past year. But what he couldn’t tolerate is that Artax wouldn’t even want to try to reject Atreyu’s help in such an impassive way, despising his attempt to save him but above all leaving him alone in his desire to stay alive. He could understand that after having traveled the Silver Mountains, the Desert of Lost Hopes, and the Eribo Crystal Forests, they were both exhausted. I have few memories as sad as that of the grief that the death of Artax, Atreyu’s horse, gave me as he plunged hopelessly into the Swamps of Sadness.
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