From isle to mainland, did the loop arrive?

Loop, by Aluan Argüelles in MAO

With an innocent Anglicism, Aluan Argüelles entitle the sample that is exhibited currently at the Alejandro Otero Museum in Caracas: Loop. An exhibition that gathers different works of the artist, and if seen in altogether, they turn in only one installation. The culminating Venezuelan context around this, gives it a strong feature Site Specific that enhances its solid and convincing message.

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Political diatribes, insecurity and economic debacles are some of the causes that motivate ordinary citizens to take extreme measures. As extreme as leaving their place of origin, their safe harbor, family, language, traditions, culture. Although Aluan’s work responds to its context, its language acquires universal overtones, given the complexity and convulsion of global reality. Stories that are constantly repeated; they are different latitudes, characteristics, and geography, but it is the same drama. A drama that returns as a loop. Desperate decisions force people to seek shelter in other realities, without knowing for sure what the future will bring.

Atlas, Ideas Peligrosas, La primera noche, Un día de Agosto, Nuevo Mundo… are titles of some of the series that Argüelles exhibits in Loop. From traditional painting and canvas intervened with smoke, to more experimental practices such as installation, ready-made, video and book-art, this gives body to his proposal by resorting to three essential elements: The sea, the word (or its absence) and anonymous identities are a constant that gives coherence to the sample, providing an interesting symbolic and polysemic richness.

On different small sand mountains there are different elements. Among them, a bottle of water, half full or half empty, pretends to go unnoticed. This small object that seems to be there, product of chance, can make the difference between the life and death of the adventurer, who could perish in the course of drifting days and nights, on a raft in the open sea. These nights that become hundreds of blank pages, stained by the sea water; only small verses warn us of what might have happened. The other words were drawn in the sand, but the salt sea with its waves wanted to erase them. He disappeared them, as those who had no luck in crossing to the other shore and disappeared, and we intuited their names printed with invisible ink on the dark sea. They tried to find a new world, but they could not foresee it, they did not have how to light the way. This is the case in Cuba, as it happens in other parts of the world. The loop came to Venezuela, maybe not so much at sea, maybe more by road, loop has arrived.



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