Clemencia Labin and the Colorful Pulpa Chic

Pulpa Chic

Since 2001, artist Clemencia Labin (born Venezuela, 1947) has been producing a series of works called Pulpa Chic.

These objects share with pop art the flat color, artificiality, and re-contextualization of objects. The pop art Labin alludes to responds to the connection between these works and the popular culture of her native country Venezuela. In Spanish, the word "pulpa" describes the edible part of a fruit.

Pulpa Chic

From her own description, Labin’s Pulpa are soft, fleshly, and padded works often covered by expandable lycra or other fabrics. They are usually built on wooden frames, filled with polyester fiber, and partly painted with acrylic paint.

With few exceptions – such as Pintamuros the flattest of her 21^st century pieces – most of Labin’s pieces occupy space and are sculptural. All of her works display a plush array of shapes, fabrics, and textures filled with something enigmatically shapely but soft. Their construction has the rigor of the Bauhaus while simultaneously displaying a casualness that celebrates improvisation. They incarnate an aesthetic which demands a narrative, one that the artist is not shy to talk about.

In 2011, Labin represented Venezuela at the Venice Biennale, and she explained how after having lived in Hamburg, Germany for over 20 years why rediscovering her home city of Maracaibo changed her art practice. On a casual visit to the neighborhood of Santa Lucia, she discovered a new palette in the bright colors of the houses' façade and interior décor.

Although that neighborhood was recognized as dangerous, she bought a house there and since 2011 has been hosting an annual art festival called Velada Santa Lucia. It is evident that the colors and patterns of her current neighborhood are reflected in her present work, albeit her worldly perspective.

Pulpa Chic

Until 1968, Labin lived and attended school in Maracaibo. After, she moved to New York where she obtained her Bachelor's degree in Arts in 1972 and later a Master's degree in Business Administration from Columbia University before moving to Germany. Throughout her career, she studied under the tutelage of Kai Sudeck, Franz E. Walther, and Sigmar Polke.

Labin’s works invite interaction and she herself interacts with the viewer as a performer. Indeed, Pulpa Nueva Mega Lucrecia (2009) puts the viewer at odds as to whether one should find shapes, or simply squeeze it or lie down on it.

In Conversation with Ana Álvarez-Errecalde

Q: Blood and nudity seem to be a leitmotif of your work. Why? And what is your relation with them? 


A: I have created many artworks that deal with nudity but only a few that include blood. Many things motivate the direction of my work. I am interested in the vital cycles and the passage of time. I am interested in the body as an intimate territory: a map of registered memories that are not always in line with what religion, science and socioeconomic interests have led us to believe. How I relate to nudity and blood is a mirror of my fascination with life. I am accepting of my changing body, amazed with how my children grow and intrigued by the aging process. I have enjoyed my pregnancies and have had joyful, intense home births. The blood and nudity seen within the context of my artwork is linked to authenticity and undiluted sensuality.

Q: Identity is a repetitive theme in your work. Has identity become so important since you are an Argentinian living in Europe? Is it a need to find and define (or re-define) yourself? 

A: 
I have lived half of my life away from my family and country of origin as an immigrant on two continents. These experiences have influenced my interest in Identity. In other projects, I do not focus so much on nationality as an identifying factor but in those experiences that we live that permeate us and determine the way we see the world.

Q: Female nudity… Is it a sort of re-appropriation of the female figure?
A: Yes. In my artwork I intend to go beyond the physical and aesthetic re-appropriation. My intention when photographing female nudity is also to re-vindicate the right to openly share experiences and add to the collective imagery. Love and sex among the elderly, orgasmic births, scars that leave testimony of a survived experience, all these have something to contribute to our common reality.

Q: It is obvious to me to link Canova’s Le Tre Grazie with your Tres Gracias Sangrantes. What does it mean for you to take a tradition and use it? Is this just an endorsement or are you doing something else with it? 

A: Tres Gracias Sangrantes was conceived as a parody to Canova´s Le Tre Grazie which are supposed to represent beauty, charm and joy and preceded banquets for the mere purpose of delighting the guests of the gods. Raphael created a chaste version of the piece and Rubens painted the Graces in a voluptuous and exuberant way. I wanted to add an irreverent image to the vast voyeuristic and salacious representations in Art.

The advertising industry tries to convince us that women´s blood is blue, that menstrual cycles stink, that menstrual pain is normal and should be medically numbed, and that mood swings are part of a syndrome (PMS) which is treatable by a huge range of pharmaceutical solutions. External control over women´s physiology and psychology reach debates about abortion legality and illegality, backs up the endless interventions on pregnancy and birth which ends up in an incredibly high rate on C-sections in most of the developed countries. 
The external manipulation of women´s hormones sometimes starts in the beginning of adolescence.
 The devalorization of old age sends more and more women in an anguished and frustrating search for eternal youth.
 In Three Bleeding Graces I give visibility to blood in order to denounce the devitalization, domestication and exploitation of this process that negates women.

Q: Is HISTOLOGÍAS a metaphor for the lack of empathy toward others?
A: HISTOLOGIAS proposes getting into someone else´s skin and alludes to the complexity of this act. I present the skin as a canvas which is both influenced by the life that marks us from the outside (aging, illness, aesthetic, etc.) as well as the marks that come from the inside (the subconscious that overflows, explodes and stains).
 There are moments in life when it becomes almost unbearable to fit inside the boundaries that conform who we are, those are the moments when we are able to grow emotionally and expand our limits.

               

Q: ALQUIMIA seems a spiritual work where the absence becomes presence. Would you tell me more about this work?
A: I created this series of photographs and sculptures soon after the death of my sister Bany. We were very alike and very close. We would laugh at the same things, we had the same smile. When she passed away unexpectedly from cancer I could not accept that she was gone. I was searching to be with her in a tangible way as an intent of transcending her absence. I brought her back into my life by creating this collaborative work. I based the artwork on her poetry, which I even embroidered on the dresses that I used for the series.


AxME: Ellen Gallagher at Tate Modern

Walking into the first room of the exhibition AxME at Tate Modern in London, one cannot remain indifferent when viewing a photo that immortalizes the figure of Freud sketching a model. With a closer and knowledgeable gaze, one can recognize the face of the model as the artist herself posing in an evident Orientalist style.

With this short introduction, we are carried into the world of Ellen Gallagher (b. 1965) who is an American artist that deals with sex, femininity, white male artists, couch trips, models, and the male gaze.

The huge exhibition is organized in eleven rooms and presents a number of works from different periods. The following rooms are adorned with her big paintings of women in which plasticine forms their hair and caricatures of big lips and bug-eyes create their features. They are signs; they are signifiers of Gallagher's own visual vocabulary.

Ellen Gallagher has worked with diverse techniques and materials. Her work embraces painting, drawing, sculpture, collage and film -- often combining multiple media in a single piece. She became known for her minimalist works, alluding also -- with her caricature of lips, hair, and eyes -- to the vision and representation of black people in the “others” imagery.

The sensibility of her reappropriation of society’s imagery makes these works more than just aesthetically appealing. They acknowledge the anger and the sense of revenge against a label.

Curated by Juliet Bingham, the entire exhibition is a brilliant combination of politics, social classification, and identity.

Lamia Gargash: Presence in Absence

The Staircase, Lamia Gargash (2005-6)

I first discovered award-winning Emirati photographer and visual artist, Lamia Gargash's work in a British Council exhibition, My Father's House a few years ago; a travelling exhibition, its first port of call was at Bait al Baranda museum in Muscat, Sultanate of Oman. While I admired the other featured photographers' works, I instantly gravitated towards Lamia's images, which depicted interiors of buildings situated in United Arab Emirates, both inhabited and abandoned. Starkly devoid of people, these were piercing portraits of spaces -- and yet, they are also portraits of the invisible inhabitants occupying those spaces as well, documenting their presence through the way they are somehow present but not seen. I found her images of abandoned buildings and structures particularly haunting and powerful: even in or perhaps, because of their derelict state, they are palimpsests, each layer reverberating with voices, echoes, and stories. Since then, Lamia has extensively explored the subject of dynamics of interiors in UAE, working on a number of projects pertaining to this theme.

What prompted Lamia to document these spaces, notably the interiors? "I love what the camera captures, paying attention to details and using it to record and preserve what intrigues me. Space is a hub for many changes that occur around us; it dictates not only styles and eras but also a way of living. How a room is experienced leaves many stories within its walls. One always looks at the outside word as a sign of progression and expansion but the true essence of change occurs within our own quarters. How one identifies himself within his own room and how he chooses to present his individuality and persona through it is what’s exciting," she remarks.

Red Television, Lamia Gargash, (2009)

Through 'Presence,' she chose to document a culture that was located and reflected by ways of interiors and which was becoming extinct due to modernization and globalization. "When I first started this project, I was studying in UK; coming back home [to UAE], I was more aware of the changes happening and felt the desire to document my old home – and the work developed from there," she recollects. She documented moments of migrations and transition, as people shifted from their old homes to newer ones as well as recording abandoned homes. "I am often asked as to why there are no people present in my photographs. To me, the spaces and interiors not only narrate stories of the lives that existed in them but also give the viewer an insight into our culture: how swiftly things change in our country, the rate at which things are being destroyed and built is probably more obvious in the space we inhabit on a daily basis than merely the exterior urban landscape," she says.

The Brown Bedroom, Lamia Gargash (2005-6)

She also found it challenging to explain to the homes' inhabitants as to what she found so interesting and intriguing in the interiors that warranted them being photographed. "We live in a quiet, conservative society, which admires and respects privacy so taking one’s photographs is quite a challenge enough -- but taking pictures of their private spaces was even more challenging," she mentions, adding that many perceived it an intrusion and invasion of privacy to expose their most intimate spaces, whether it be kitchen, bedroom or even bathroom. "They would question: why would anyone be interested in living quarters? Go photograph the garden or the sunset instead! Initially it was very hard but I gradually found a language by which I was able to communicate my message," she says.

Apart from her photographic meditations upon interiors intertwined with cultural identity, she has embarked upon other projects, which were distinctly different in subject matter and approach -- but also dealing with identity. One such project was the Through the Looking Glass, which Lamia mentions as investigating how we constantly view ourselves in comparison to an ever-elusive standard, prompted by the constant bombardment of media imagery dictating "how we should look." "Minor defects become drastic, resulting in even more drastic measures undertaken to reach that ideal standard of beauty. Our self- perception, and subsequently our identity, becomes indistinct, as if viewing ourselves through a distorted looking glass," she mentions.

Feminism & Collage: Wangechi Mutu

Over the past few months, developing a solid artistic technique and style have been personal goals of mine.  One of  my latest "turns" has involved using the early 20th century technique known as collage.  Although the process, which literally means "to glue," is a hallmark of the modern art movement, its early forms in Art History are most often associated with Cubism, and with its primary figures--Pablo Picasso or Georges Braque.

Recently, a new friend suggested I check out the collage work of Wangechi Mutu.  Originally born in Kenya and currently working in New York, Mutu's work expresses a regal approach to collage and distills the many nuances of identity as we understand it.  As soon as I saw her work, I was reminded of Hannah Hoch's work and the concept of a "cultural self-portrait." Most of her subjects are female, and she has been quoted as saying "Females carry the marks, language and nuances of their culture more than the male. Anything that is desired or despised is always placed on the female body."


Wangechi Mutu. Adult Female Sexual Organs. 2005. Image courtesy of Saatchi Gallery Online.

What I admired about this piece from Wangechi Mutu, Adult Female Sexual Organs, is that it is a reexamination of imagery in pop culture while at the same time calling up early "modern" imagery that distorted race, sexual, and values in the public realm.  In fact, the image above is a multimedia collage that was superimposed upon medical illustration paper.  What does that suggest as a point of departure?

A lot. Especially when the connection is made to African culture. Does anyone recall the unfortunately recent repatriation of the bodily remains of Sarah Baartman, better known as the colonialist oddity, "Hottentot Venus"?

These early pseudoscientific documents prescribed animalistic features or drives to women of color. They were accepted as guidelines for understanding unfamiliar body types, skin color, and whole cultures. Many of the stereotypes still influence popular belief systems, and are actively informing social interactions.

Contemporary artists before Mutu have examined this idea, and have taken on a performance-based approach to dispelling the absolutist beliefs about womens' identities. From Carrie Mae Weems to Grace Jones, there is much to discuss and see about this complex visual history.

Is Popular Culture Bleaching Out Cultural Identity?

Last week a friend turned my attention to Beyoncé’s new look at the Grammys. Normally, I'm not drawn into celebrity culture. Vapid and unattainable, it makes me depressed and overly concerned. But the recent pictures of her took me aback. Blonder and fairer than ever, Beyoncé looked like she had morphed into Gwyneth Paltrow.

As a pop culture role model for women, Beyoncé stands tall. She is an intelligent, attractive, and well-spoken performer and she is also an ardent businesswoman, even holding her own against her partner Jay-Z, the successful rapper. Undoubtedly, she exists within an industry where she has to emulate "a look." For a while, I couldn’t tell the difference between her, Shakira, and Jennifer Lopez -- some of the most culturally diverse performers in mainstream music. Yet, their styles seemed to blend seamlessly into one another. Largely emulating the original material girl, Madonna, these performers are walking advertisements for various brands -- be it hair, make up, clothes, shoes, or cars. On one side, the argument is that these women have in a capitalistic, male-dominated industry been able to create their own lucrative deals and take charge of their own money. But, what about their identity? Are the effects of celebrity-driven culture removing important aspects of their cultural identity?

Beyoncé is a lighter-skinned woman of color. While she usually has the highly moneyed, honeyed hair she had for the Grammys, she has also experimented with various hair colors and styles. However, Yasmin Alibhai-Brown, a British writer and journalist who grew up in East Africa with ancestry from Pakistan, much like my own parents, was up in arms about Beyoncé's appearance at the awards. She wrote in the Daily Mail accusing Beyoncé of betraying her African-American cultural heritage and of betraying women of color.

I do think in the entertainment industry, where hair is an art form in and of itself, accusing Beyoncé of trying to "be white" is too simple and unfair. As a woman of color, I have done all sorts of things with my hair. Naturally, I am dark chocolate with big waves. But I’ve had light brown, orange, straight, and kinky hair. I’ve partly shaved my head and also had pink and red spikes. I was never trying to look white or wash out my cultural identity. Rather, I was trying to have as much technicolor fun as I could with my hair. I was "experimenting." What then is the problem with Beyoncé’s recent image?

The Power of Vulnerability

I recently came across this amazing TED Talk (also below) with Brené Brown, an American social scientist who took to the painstaking task of studying vulnerability in human emotions; specifically, what separates people who are able to love wholeheartedly from those who claim they cannot. Her study was brave in that it became a personal exploration that she was able to then relate to big picture issues facing the world around her.

What Brown discovers is that those who have more confidence and are more open to loving relationships also make themselves very vulnerable in life, as in, they take on more risks. She also observed that people in America numb themselves to vulnerability, and this can be evidenced by the fact that we are "The most in debt, obese, addicted and medicated adult cohort in U.S. history."

What do her findings mean for society at large? I'm not entirely sure, but I think the notion that we as a people need to confront vulnerability and embrace it can be a powerful goal, to start.

1000 WORDS: Camouflage

Costa Rican artist Cecilia Paredes explores the emotional effects of moving from one country to another in her piece for Focusing on Latin America, "Migration and Identity."

Explore the rest of the series here>>