Of Collective Consciousness

When we think about humanity, we are bound to encounter a sense of polarity. On one end, there is isolation and a sense of belonging on the other. Colombian artist Mario Arroyave is the observer of these vast stream-of-consciousness thoughts, and his artwork tells you why it all matters. From how we dissect our conscious thoughts, to how we choose to live our daily lives, these aspects add to the human collective we see in Arroyave’s work and around us.

Style

Arroyave’s pieces have an ongoing range. They are constantly evolving with every project he works on. He can show you so many humans or no humans at all. It matters how they are being shown to you, and this is where perspective comes into play. Where he wants you to see them from, through perspectives and angles, whether it’s people or abstractions. If they are elevated, or you see them head-on, or if you don’t see anything at all just ethereal colors, those perspectives say something important about how we view people, time, and space.

It is all about that interaction with perspective, where your attention goes, and what you decide it’s saying to you. If it’s far, it shows a collective sentiment where your understanding needs to be broad, and if it’s closer it’s a more intimate, focused approach to the subject matter.

Arroyave explains his thought process:

My creative process is closely linked to the person I am at the moment of creating…My first projects were characterized by the absence of humans in the spaces I portrayed, at that time it was very difficult for me to interact with others and this was reflected in my work.

People appeared as part of a personal process of being more social and this was mixed with some physics books that I was reading at that time where I was beginning to understand that linear time is human fiction and that in the end there are only interactions, so I decided to work on that approach and create timeless spaces where all events occur in the same singularity, and thus I began to weave the timeline series.

Deeper Meaning

There is an individual outlook on Arroyave’s approach that allows him to morph into his environment and what he wants to portray at any given moment. Even though his individualistic view is represented in the piece by showing, say, a tunnel-like vision in Dissections of the infinite, he also portrays collective consciousness, where he shows how everything can affect everything else through connection like in Timeline – Stand Paddle. These pieces fill the space and they have an element of a continuum. Life goes on, waves in the ocean keep moving, and people move on and go on, as well as time, regardless. 

He explains:

As beings we are in continuous mutation, personally, I like to think of myself as a snake that sheds its skin from time to time and this has allowed me to live multiple lives in this life, so art appears as a manifestation of each one of them, which in its uniqueness understand a different language.

Concluding Musings

Arroyave leads us into a world that exists as a particle in the grand universe. One that is constantly changing its reality in order to evolve and survive. Humans need connection with humans and other living beings, and many times that gets lost in modern times. But humans also need a connection to themselves as beings within the grand scheme of life and universal power. That’s a strong message that allows us to have a broader perspective and understanding of what it is to be part of collective existence while still holding on to our individuality.

He states:

The human is an organism, we are all human. Unfortunately, not all of us understand ourselves as such, everyone gravitates to their ego, answering for themselves, for their family, their friends, and their homeland…. but all within a relatively small ring. We do not perceive ourselves as the collective entity that we really are, there are a number of fictions that separate us from each other, preventing us from flowing like human tissue. As controversial as the very concept of family sounds, it is one of the pillars of this dissociation, from there the first barrier that divides us as a society is gestated. At some point I read in Plato's Timaeus a vision of society in Atlantis and how they articulated it in a system where the family nucleus as we know it did not exist, the children did not generate a bond with their parents, in fact, they did not even know them and so everyone they were a big family. This vision of society as a unit still exists in some indigenous tribes around the planet.

But if the recent years have something to show, it is that the need for collective connection is an emotion we all crave to an extent. Arroyave shows us what happens when we do certain things and how that affects us now and later. When we choose to isolate, connect, or ignore. The results are reflections of human needs at the time, and it shows us that reality is always changing and we are the ones who are making it happen whether we realize it or not. 

For more about this artist, please visit his website. The interview was translated from Spanish.

Today’s poem reflects Mario’s understanding of time and space:

Black Space

BY ISHION HUTCHINSON

For Erna Brodber

Be ye my fictions; But her story.
— Richard Crashaw

I can bring a halo

into the night cave, quiet

with music (do not ask the music),

to her shaded there

in the moon; her fine spectacles

steam their pond rings;

her animal eyes fix

on the lintel of the door

as the wax owl glances back at me. I am her little cotton

tree the breeze combs

white into a final note,

her diminuendo poco a poco ...    

Moon-afro, myself

outpaces me

in wonder of her.

She goes off and I seep

under the black sprout

of her house, to rise

a salmon bell on the hill

dissolving mild cloud fractals,

without grief or malice.

Where the Wild Things Thrive

Artistic vision, nurtured authentically from inception can create a limitless vortex of ideas for artists. For Chilean artist Carolina Muñoz, this vision is captured by a world where anything is possible. A world where humanoid characters are mere components of a bigger purpose. Muñoz’s artwork shows us the potential of what can happen when we let our conscious thoughts collide with the dream-like reality created by our subconscious. You never know what you may find.

Technique

There’s a purpose in the way Muñoz’s works are put together and they all hold an immense amount of detail. In Serie Negros, we see a character that is up to something but within the painting, there’s more happening in his surroundings as he is nonchalant about it. Time appears to have frozen in the painting, yet there is a sense of urgency coming from the motion-like gestures you see. There are even inanimate objects with faces, as you’ll find in Cuarto de Censura (2019), and they are part of it too. Everything going on in the work itself serves like particles of this universe and she is the creator inviting you to see it all, leaving no stone unturned. She is exposing a moment that makes the viewer feel like they just walked into a compromising situation they can’t unsee, much like a dream, when you are present but everything else is already in motion, it’s happening now.

For Muñoz, creating is a transcendental experience. One that can overwhelm her with thoughts into the medium to create by dissecting each piece within the idea, one by one:

“One of the important aspects of the [creative] process is when I enter the state of thought, the principles of making the work or the series. I live around it, I can't stop thinking, it's quite exhausting and overwhelming. It is first like a mental experimentation that lasts days or weeks that later lands on paper; a sketch. There are times that it arises in one night. But it is a process where you fill in the information and then you have to sort and select. When you have the sketch, the rest begins to flow smoothly… I think that drawing is a good ally in the process, it helps to organize the mind. Sometimes, a few times, I also write, before making a piece, I read a lot of things or watch artists' documentaries. Seeing art motivates me a lot, it makes me want to work in the studio.”

I very much enjoy the juxtaposition of the soft pastel colors in a harsh setting within Muñoz’s work. There’s a duality to her use of color and what she’s drawing or painting. The caricature-like drawings give the pieces a sense of child-like curiosity and mannerism that makes you look, only to find that what is being depicted is a very mature portrayal of the subconscious. I appreciate that Muñoz gives herself permission to cover the entire canvas to explore the complexity of drawing a whole scene encapsulated by a chaotic perspective through wiggled lines, realistic facial features, shock-like moments, and blurred-out visuals.

Muñoz explains how abstraction has recently played a part in her creations:

“My art changes and evolves due to the need to do work, one seeks to reach something that is not necessarily tangible, but rather the feeling that the work done has a projection or takes me where I want to go... For some time I have been looking at a lot of abstract art, the use of technique, color, and stain. It is difficult for me to conceive a work without thinking about the figuration, without thinking about the space and characters that make up a scene. In the last works, I worked on the abstraction contained in the form, within faces and bodies. I found it interesting that as the result of this, the characters were in a state of constant change, without one being able to determine or distinguish their identity and gender. The ambiguity in my work has to do with deformation, I think it is my way of abstracting.”

It is a beautiful way to use an abstraction that challenges the form itself to be contained within space. There is a sense of control that comes from that, like the need to tame something wild. By doing so Muñoz is challenging herself while applying a new concept that fits within her creative world, and that is what evolution in art is all about. 

Vision

The characters you see in Muñoz’s paintings are an enigma and they are bound to make you take a closer look. They remind me of characters you may see in fables, much more surreal, contemporary fables that is. But they look like characters you don’t forget because they tell you stories that can be uneasy and uncomfortable to hear at times, causing you to question reality itself, the light and shadow sides of all we see, including aspects of our own minds and narratives. 

Muñoz shares her vision on the role these characters play as essential components of her work:

“The characters generally perform different functions, in a kind of submission. They are constantly performing. Many times they are inside exhibition spaces helping to convey an idea, sometimes confusing and questioning the viewer. I think that the characters can reveal deep human behaviors and the relationship we have with the world. I am interested in creating and sustaining a world of my own, with a certain type of character, living, existing in these settings that surround the formality of the art world. It is also as if they were trapped in the inertia of this aesthetic structure of art. Characters with crooked noses, creeping deformations do not rest.”

We all have secrets and parts of ourselves that we don’t like to show to the entire world, but deep inside our subconscious, we know they exist and are very much a part of who we are today or were in the past. Whichever the case, sometimes we suppress those aspects of ourselves so much until we can no longer contain them. That exact feeling of exposure and vulnerability is what reminds me of some of Muñoz’s paintings. In Mujeres del Espacio (2020) and Dia de Ofrenda (2019), we see how the characters are basking in their reality that is very much present and they are living in it, like an explosion of subconscious thoughts that are now in the open to be faced and dealt with whether you like it or not. 

Extra Notes

Muñoz is an artist whose vision evokes complex emotions within. The works allow for a constant need to observe and question not just through our personal realities but also of humanity overall. 

When I asked the artist about what she loves most about being creative, she responded:

“The freedom to do what you want, to work from your imagination. See reality from the most sensitive corners. Convey imperceptible aspects, answer questions with answers that at the same time generate questions, thoughts, and inferences. I like to give importance to things that in reality very few give their place. Like the incredible thing about the mechanism of dreams. Or question theories that we cannot understand and give space to create one of our own.” 

The artworks have an invisible sense of purpose, in which the characters are responding or acting to take on something bigger than them. It is that thought that confirms there are aspects we ought to pay attention to as humans since we have access to both conscious and subconscious realities. That nudge or intuition can provide knowledge about ourselves or the world, and this gives us awareness and understanding like a piece within a puzzle. 

Interview translated from Spanish. For more about the artist’s work, please visit her website.

Today’s poem reflects Carolina’s understanding of the real world and one of dreams:

Tulips

BY SYLVIA PLATH

The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.

Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in

I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly

As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.

I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.

I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses

And my history to the anaesthetist and my body to surgeons.

They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff

Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut.

Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in.

The nurses pass and pass, they are no trouble,

They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps,

Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another,

So it is impossible to tell how many there are.

My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water

Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.

They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep.

Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage ——

My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox,

My husband and child smiling out of the family photo;

Their smiles catch onto my skin, little smiling hooks.

I have let things slip, a thirty-year-old cargo boat

Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.

They have swabbed me clear of my loving associations.

Scared and bare on the green plastic-pillowed trolley

I watched my teaset, my bureaus of linen, my books

Sink out of sight, and the water went over my head.

I am a nun now, I have never been so pure.

I didn't want any flowers, I only wanted

To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.

How free it is, you have no idea how free ——

The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,

And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.

It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them

Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.

The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.

Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe

Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby.

Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.

They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down,

Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their colour,

A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck.

Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.

The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me

Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,

And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow

Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,

And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself.

The vivid tulips eat my oxygen.

Before they came the air was calm enough,

Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss.

Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise.

Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river

Snags and eddies round a sunken rust-red engine.

They concentrate my attention, that was happy

Playing and resting without committing itself.

The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves.

The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals;

They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,

And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes

Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.

The water I taste is warm and salty, like the sea,

And comes from a country far away as health.

Sylvia Plath, “Tulips” from Collected Poems. Copyright © 1960, 1965, 1971, 1981 by the Estate of Sylvia Plath. Editorial matter copyright © 1981 by Ted Hughes. Used by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

Source: Collected Poems (HarperCollins Publishers Inc, 1992)

Art Spaces that Captivate

While easy enough to forget, the art experience really begins before we view any artworks. From the architecture and exterior of a museum, gallery or other art space, to the way we interact with the people working there, and how we are affected by the spaces that surround the artworks themselves. There are exhibitions that stand out in our mind as memorable, but have you asked yourself why? Beyond the works themselves, art spaces serve as the backbone for the exhibition. One of these great exhibition spaces is Glenstone Museum in Potomac, Maryland.

Water Court at the Pavilions Photo: Iwan Baan Courtesy: Glenstone Museum

Glenstone is an example of what can be achieved when there’s an ability and flexibility to create an art space from scratch. Yet in this case, the interior and exterior building and landscape design matters just as much as the curated works found in its galleries. Planning the architectural design can be challenging on its own, as the space would not have the flexibility of changing like the artworks do.

Valentina Nahon, Sr. Director of Public Engagement at Glenstone, spoke with me about the importance of creating an impactful art space experience for all visitors. The Glenstone experience begins outdoors, the entry point to its sprawling 230 acre footprint. A natural growing field with small hills and distant trees reveals paths, each leading to the galleries or to outdoor sculptures, like Jeff Koons’ Split-Rocker or Tony Smith’s Smug. The sculptures are part of nature itself, where they fit seamlessly each adapted to their  own unique natural setting. You won’t find more than one together, unlike a typical sculpture garden. 

Jeff Koons, Split-Rocker, 2000 stainless steel, soil, geotextile fabric, internal irrigation system, and live flowering plants 37 x 39 x 36 feet © Jeff Koons Courtesy: Glenstone Museum

These outdoor spaces invite you to be curious about your surroundings, the sights and sounds, and even through the steps you may take, where small stones make sound as you walk. All these components cause you to be more present in the experience. Nature holds a space for each work you come across outdoors. One of my personal favorites is Janet Cardiff & George Bures Miller FOREST (for a thousand years…), where you are taken back in time through sound to reflect on humanity.

Nahon explains the purpose behind these art spaces:

Our mission at Glenstone is to be a place that seamlessly integrates art, architecture, and nature. The minimal design approach to both indoor and outdoor spaces is intended to facilitate meaningful encounters between our visitors and the artworks displayed, free of any distractions. The site design includes restored meadows, woodlands and streams to enhance the natural backdrop for outdoor sculptures, while the neutral building material palette complements the artworks on display.

When entering the galleries, the nature element persists, recalling the outdoor setting first experienced. The neutral wall colors, the large glass panels, and the water elements all embrace the landscape existing outdoors. The outdoor and indoor spaces interact heavily throughout the galleries, known as Pavilions. Beautiful natural light and high ceilings allow for this immersive effect in most spaces. There is a peace of mind from the mood-evoking surroundings that allow the visitor to explore at their own pace.

Installation View: Faith Ringgold From left: Faith Ringgold Jazz Stories: Mama Can Sing Papa Can Blow #1: Somebody Stole My Broken Heart, 2004 acrylic on canvas with painted and pieced border 81 in x 67 in ACA Galleries, New York Dah #3, 1983 acrylic on canvas 74 in x 58 in ACA Galleries, New York Dah #4, 1983 acrylic on canvas 74 in x 58 in ACA Galleries, New York California Dah #5, 1983 acrylic on canvas 110 in x 48 in ACA Galleries, New York California Dah #4, 1983 acrylic on canvas © 2021 Faith Ringgold / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, Courtesy ACA Galleries, New York Photo: Ron Amstutz Courtesy: Glenstone Museum

At times, some spaces open up fully as you walk in, like a surprise effect to expose the artwork within. It is almost like an unveiling of Glenstone’s most valuable assets, the art itself. That is in a way what galleries and museums are, they hold a space that reveals creativity in the form of Faith Ringgold, Cy Twombly, or Robert Gober, as something precious and frozen in time for the visitors to see. 

Nahon tells us about Glenstone’s creative team collaboration, responsible for this entire experience:

At Glenstone, we have a series of galleries that host changing exhibitions, while others are purpose-built to house a particular artist’s work. Planning a new exhibition is a collaborative effort that begins with the artist’s vision. We have a group of talented associates with varying backgrounds and experiences that contribute to the realization of a new installation at Glenstone.

Rendering of the boardwalk approach to the new building at Glenstone Museum, conceived to house a large-scale Richard Serra work and designed in collaboration between the artist and Thomas Phifer of Thomas Phifer and Partners. Located on Glenstone’s Woodland Trail, with landscape design by Adam Greenspan/PWP. Image: The Boundary Courtesy: Glenstone Museum

This collaborative vision is necessary in all art spaces. It allows for an immersive experience that starts from the outside all the way to the core, the artwork. Spaces can adapt to the artists and their artworks, but I think it really has to be the other way around for it to create balance among the space that has already been created and what the artworks have to offer. Then, it is when the art is placed that the footprint of the space transforms to become one with the space according to its message, how interactive it is, and how the viewers respond to it.