It seems appropriate to end the chapter with a discussion of my first impressions of the art scene in Cordoba. Within my first few days I was given the name of the director of the Figuerosa Alcorte Provincial College of Fine Arts, Ana Luiza Bondone. Maria Elena, the gallery owner had called ahead for me and made an interview with Ana Luiza. The school was only a few blocks from the gallery so I took a stroll and found it right away. The entrance was deceptive. A storefront really that looked like it was only a single story and couldn't possible hold more than some offices and a small classroom or two. After entering and spending a few moments waiting, a young man came out to the main office. I explained in my best Spanish that I wanted to see the Director, Ana Luiza Bondone. Luli, the name of the young man, in Spanish, then his best English which was as bad as my Spanish, told me she was still in class so I had a bit of a wait. We began to try to communicate which was tedious. He asked me where I was from and I managed to explain that I was an artist with an exhibition in Cordoba and was staying for one month. I showed him my Internal Scenarios book, a catalog from my exhibition at the Centro Cultural Recoleta from nearly two years previous and gave him an invitation to the opening there in Cordoba. He then gave me an invitation to an exhibition of young Cordobes artists happening that night.

By the end of 3 hours at the school I had three invitations for openings to go to. Luli's group show was at the Bibliotheca Cordoba an old library that as far as I can tell has fallen on bad times but has given over some space for artists to take advantage of. The building was a grand palace built in the late 1800's or very early 1900's with two big main halls, a central stair case leading to upper galleries overlooking one of the halls, lots of marble and space.

Luli's work was in the second hall. Four large canvases, two on each side of the hall, each approximately 5 x 7 feet immediately attracted attention. The contrast between the former richness of the space with its patina of past glory and the insistent imagery of Luli's work with its crude, in your face drawing, wry wit and spiritual overtones was revealing. Although I'd done some homework and knew a little about Cordoba's history and its connection with the larger Argentina I really didn't expect to see a young artist speaking to his own people in a voice that could be universal around the world. I guess I really expected some academic student paintings of still lives, landscapes and figure studies. Luiza told me during her wonderful tour of the college (most of the college is behind the front entrance in another building with three or four floors with lots of large and small classrooms and studios including painting, drawing, sculpture and printmaking as well as small critique and lecture rooms) that the school has a history and a philosophy of teaching first the traditional skills including drawing, painting and sculpting from life as well as more contemporary ideas. Of course I should have known that I would see the more contemporary ideas at work in this show since Luli had given me a small sketch before I left the school earlier in the evening that reinforced that the students didn't live in a traditional vacuum.

Luli's work was done on canvas or muslin by stitching colored yarns as if it were charcoal or paint. This took me a few moments to realize as I walked closer to look at each piece individually. Along with the stitching there was a small image (couldn't tell if it was scanned and printed or simply cut from a magazine) applied as well. Most of his other pieces also had some collage elements in a similar fashion. His images were iconic cartoons that dominated the surface and became more apparent after a closer look. The images were somewhat apocalyptic but with a gentle spirit and sense of humor which matched his personality. I was impressed and later asked if I could use a photo or two of his imagery in my blog.

When I first entered the relatively dark front hall of the building it was full of cafe tables with lots of young students and a few older folks sitting and drinking orange soda (very popular on the streets of Cordoba) surrounding a curtained booth. There was loud electronic music playing and the room was lit primarily with candles on the tables and small halogen spots highlighting some great constructions mounted on the outside walls and small sculptures in the corners on pedestals. The curtained booth was lit from within and I began to pick out the silhouettes of two painters and a nude female on whose body they painters seemed to be making marks. But little seemed to be happening. It was hard to tell what was about to happen. I toured the entire exhibition space including the main floor, Luli's space, the upstairs balcony spaces which included more than a half dozen other artist's works (wish I had room to show more images there were really some exciting things to show), then made my way down to the basement which had its own atmosphere made even more apocalyptic by its gritty lack of maintenance. I said hi to some of the students and a couple of the faculty from the college I'd met earlier. Had a rather confusing discussion (twice with a woman who kept asking me a question in Spanish which I couldn't understand who I thought might be someone I'd met at the college earlier- but even though I asked she said no and proceeded to try to communicate again whatever it was she was asking. I felt really bad that I couldn't talk with her but both my Spanish and my hearing isn't very good and I really couldn't figure out what she was asking me with the music playing so loud. For all I know she might have been the curator. (lo siento senorita misteryoso).

When I got back to the front hall I ran into Luli again and said I had to go but that I enjoyed the show. I made my way through the cafe tables to the door when the music, provided by local composers, hit a crescendo. I turned to take one last photo as the female, now completely painted from head to toe, began to dance her way from the curtained booth, around the cafe tables, into the back hall and up the stairs. Everyone followed, including myself trying to get a shot. After she disappeared up the back staircase I figured it was time to go. Couldn't hear, didn't speak Spanish well enough to make sense of any of my conversations and who could top the naked spirit of painting dancing her way through the lives of the Cordobes anyway?

I've come away from my trip to Cordoba, as I usually do from my travels, with a changed sense of scale and inspiration for new work. Of course people are really the same everywhere although some are friendlier than others. Cordobes are among the friendliest anywhere. You know they are friendly because they can discuss politics even with a total stranger on the street and not get into a fistfight (like we might in the States.) Whether Cordobes are as religious now as they once were the signs of the Catholic faith are everywhere. As Raul told me, "there is a cathedral or chapel on every corner". And while this is a bit of a stretch both Catholicism and various native faiths are still symbols one sees wherever one goes in Argentina. On a stroll one afternoon while looking for something to paint I fell into a small shop selling religious paraphernalia. On a display in the window I'd were small silver tokens like ones I'd seen earlier in churches in both Buenos Aires and Cordoba. In fact I'd seen variations on the tradition in Spain, Italy and even in Hungary and Croatia. "Promesas" are little prayer tokens, like sacrifices, given as a promise in return when requesting a healing from God of an illness for oneself or a relative or even a sick cow or family dog. I thought that they were similar in some respects to the stenciled image I've been working with for several years and that they might help me invent an interesting and culturally related iconography for the watercolors I'll be doing for my next exhibition at Artempresa in 2006.

When I saw the tokens in the window I laughed as I imagined making little figures by putting together the various body parts and having them interact with their dogs and cows. I bought a handful of parts and pieces so I could work with the idea. Of course I won't restrict myself to the ones I bought but will invent some of my own. I figure this is in the spirit of the tradition and God won't mind since its good advertising for the cause.

I left Cordoba after having regular cafe doble sin leche with Crist at the airport, saw the 50 year retrospective of another famous cartoonist, Quino, to whom I was introduced by his old friend Sabat. I spent one night with Sabat in Buenos Aires, 8 hours on the street lugging mi maleta's (I now know from the experience that luggage was named after the act of lugging) because I didn't make arrangements early enough to catch up with friends. I had a long 11-hour flight to Dallas (hadn't paid attention to the long flight the first two trips but it is significantly longer than a flight to London, Paris or Amsterdam) where I nearly missed my three-hour hop back to Columbus- I'd gotten into a very interesting conversation with a former art dealer who used to broker corporate art in Argentina and Brazil when I went out to smoke a cigarette. He told me that business in South America is done through family and friends. If you are accepted by someone in the community all it takes is a phone call and you’re accepted without question almost by the new contact. This certainly confirmed my experience in Argentina. All in all I put in more than 18 hours traveling time with the layover in Dallas. And I think that maybe God is looking after me cause the three bottles of Mendoza wine and the bottle of very inexpensive Argentine Blended Scotch ($6- U.S.) made it home intact even though the only 'promesa' I'd given were several empty bottles and an unopened container of dark olives left behind for Margarita the maid in my hotel. Also I wasn't stopped at customs so I didn't get busted for my 7 Cuban cigars and the large chunk of crystal quartz I found while walking in the country with Crist and Maria Theresa on their friend Leo's estancia.

(after the opening at Artempresa, left to right: Ana Luiza and companion, Raul and Maria, me, Miguel, Helena and Juan- three more really wonderful artists with whom I spent a lovely night of wine, charades and Spanglish.)


Besos y abrazos to my friends in Cordoba!

Walter King

Columbus OH

Aug. 7th, 2004