It was surprising to find myself entirely alone in the the center of one of the world’s largest cities. There were a few birds chirping and in the distance a security guard was eating his lunch, but otherwise, the sculpture garden at the Museo de Arte Moderno in Mexico City’s Chapultepec Park, was entirely deserted.
This sculpture garden functions as a repository of historical works. It also includes some contemporary pieces.
Hersúa, also known as Manuel Hernández Suárez, made this piece, above, in 1986. It seems that all around the world, modernist sculpture of a certain period, had a similar look. 1986 was long before the Internet flashed every damn thing to every corner of the globe, and yet, this piece could have been shown in Toronto or New York or Mexico City at the same time. Clearly, artists are open-minded and responsive to the zeitgeist.
Richard Serra had a huge show at the Museum of Modern Art in 1986 and looking at those long ago installation pictures made me think of the piece by Hersúa.
Whether in Mexico or New York, it takes a lot of confidence to make giant, perilously balanced artworks, out of cement or cast iron.
I really liked being the only viewer of this artwork by Fernando González-Gortázar, who died a couple years ago. He was an important architect in Mexico. This piece, in the midst of the tranquil park, the surroundings littered with dry, dusty leaves, was so vivid and lively … and so extremely red.
The artwork above, also by Fernando González-Gortázar, is an enormous gate to a park in Guadalajara, made in 1969.
I did not know about the Mexican post war art movment that broke away from the realism of Diego Rivera and his crowd. It was called the Generación de la Ruptura and Manuel Felguérez was part of it. According to Manuel Felguérez the idea was to make Mexican art more abstract, and hence, universal.
Apparently, Manuel Felguérez was supportive of the Cuban Revolution. News of those sympathies reached his few American collectors and any sales he had in the US took a nose dive. I can see the impact of Russian Constructivism in his massive sculpture above, made in honor of the 200th anniversary of Mexico’s independence from Spain. It’s strange to think about how cultural currents flow around the world.
This piece, by Alberto Castro Leñero, looks strikingly contemporary. There is a good reason for that. It was created in 2022. It’s a bold, inventive structure, hinting at all kinds of ambiguous subject matter (craft objects, religious iconography, scientific models) and yet, pleasingly, unfixed.
I did find a couple of pieces by Mexican woman artists in the sculpture garden.
Anything I read about Rosa Castillo first mentions her brother, who was a more well-known and successful artist. Rosa Castillo was born in 1910, in a rural village, and mainly worked as her brother’s helper. This sculpture I found very affecting. All over Mexico City you can women with a similar mein, setting up shop on the sidewalk, making delicious food and keeping the whole place running.
Tosia Malamud arrived in Mexico at age 4 when her family fled the Soviet government in Ukraine. Like Manuel Felguérez, her interests ran counter to the muralist movement which was popular when she graduated from art school. She also found it too nationalistic, and too dominated by men.
She was another Mexican artist who sought a more abstract, universal theme, however, there is something mysteriously circular in the way that pre-Columbian Mexican art influenced her work. The sculpture below, for example, is graceful, semi-abstract and blithly devoid of nationalism.
This giant purple head by Maribel Portela, another female artist, was really enjoyable to look at and think about. For me, it was a signal: start practising meditation!
One of the interesting things about the piece above, is that it is made from the seized trunks of illegally logged trees. Ricardo Rendon, one of the younger artists whose work is included in the garden, states that he is interested in the dematerialization of the object. I can imagine this fragile forest gradually wearing away to nothing in the copious rain, sun and diesal fumes of Mexico City.
This giant solitary breast rising from a gently sloping expanse of dry leaves and grass is a bit unsettling. Kiyoto Ota is presently working on a Uterus series. He decided to visit Mexico in the 1980s. He left his native Japan and never went back.
I passed a few, very pleasant hours in this lovely sculpture garden and I soon found, as I went on wandering around, that sculpture is everywhere in CDMX.
Pre-Columbian….
…and post.
annetteandquebec 