Deambulations about qualities...

Paulo Reis

                                                           Men only understand one another
                                                           as far as imbued by the same passions.
                                                           (Stendhal)¹ 

    Until the publication of Bechara's interview in Dardo magazine,  “Finally a man  with qualities”, a title playing against Robert Musil’s “The Man without  Qualities”, I considered that an artist was
measured by his Promethean effort  to reveal mystical truths, as put by Bruce Nauman in his work-manifesto. An  artist’s true stature should be measured by his persistence and intelligence to  transform something empirical -- thought --into recognized artistic skill. True  intelligence after all, is often identified through qualities which are not apparent, of even through what we call intelligent obstinacy. Issues such as  these stormed my mind when, last year, I found myself at a beautiful exhibition  which brought together the works of Cézanne and Picasso.  The juxtaposition --  in which Picasso revered Cézanne's mastery, either by copying him, at times  literally, or through citation, assured me that artistic obstinacy is  worthwhile at times. I immediately wrote José Bechara when I returned to the  hotel, ecstatic with the revelation, and this is how our email exchange  unfolded.

– Dear Bechara, it has taken me long to answer you, but there were reasons for  such delay, both personal and not. I would still like to explain that I did not  mean to interview you tout court, but instead, to exchange ideas on creation.  That is why I am writing you now, having just returned from Arles, Nîmes, and  Avignon, to my destination, Aix-en-Provence. The trip was neither
motivated by  gastronomy, nor by the bullfights: I am here exclusively to visit the Picasso  and Cézanne exhibition at the Musée Granet at Aix-en-Provence. It is curious  that I had already been in these places, albeit it had never occurred to me  that art could so profoundly mark a site. Thus, the Arles myth owes its  existence to the fact that Van Gogh made the city known to us: we cannot  distinguish the real city from the one depicted by him.
    Cézanne started a revolution which shook the art world right here in this small  southern European town. He changed art from the inside, and, in so doing, took  the city beyond its walls... This exhibition, apart from its spectacular  concept and many years of accumulated research, has helped me see even more  clearly how some artists – and their own goals- are relentless forces in human  nature. Cézanne was nine times refused by the Paris salons, but he persisted in  his pictorial research. And, as the saying goes, revenge is best tasted cold.  From that city, he not only land-marked Aix-en-Provence, but transformed  forever all art that was to follow. What admirable tenacity, to face those  steep inclines of Mount Victory to see the white rock grooves and be bathed in  the streams of light changing the landscape at every minute! Cézanne  transformed the physical experience of the landscape into a phenomenology of  color, of sensation! I stood on that mountain, all my thoughts taken by  Cézanne. Such is the power of art! The power which drove Picasso to seek out Cézanne's truth and buy the castle facing that very mountain. There, in front  of Cézanne's mountain, Picasso takes his collections, made up, above all, of works by Cézanne and Matisse [...]  
[...] Picasso always said that he was Cézanne's son, Cézanne being the father of all modernists. In one of his memorable sayings, he stated that an artist's true search is the one undertaken by Cézanne and taken up Van Gogh. For a true artist, all the rest would be false. In this exhibition there were a few  exquisitely simple Picasso drawings in imitation of Cézanne's landscapes. A
small “Aixois” street, with is angular conjunctions of houses and roofs, carries us off to another dimension, to a world where the eye and the spirit are fused into one, as Bachelard declared about Cézanne. Cézanne attempted to  excavate the flatness of the landscapes, while Picasso stressed the angularity present when he reinterpreted Cézanne. Such simplicity, such beauty, such forcefulness [...] It reminded me deeply of your sculpture of a house made in simple drawings stamps and washes – where the solid image of a house fluctuates in immaterial space, as if truly weightless, contrary to its nature.
Is the house, to put it like this, your mountain? Because it repeats itself a dozen, do hundreds of drawings juxtaposed to one another, look like an animated film, teeming with life, something solid fluctuating in space like a soap  bubble?

    In response to my speculations, the artist's letter seems to me even more  emotional than my own:

– Hello Paulo [...] with such an introduction to your question, I don't even  know what to say. Your description is cinematographic and romantic, so any  response of mine would utterly pale before it. In all modesty, and in response  to your question, the house – and all that it stands for, outside as well as  inside – yes, it is my mountain. It has been that way for 10 years and it is  present in my sculptures as well as in my drawings, and, in the latter, these  bear the conflict you mention: that of a solid object, physically and  psychologically solid, floating directionless. This is what it is, the  simplest, most directly possible drawing. For me, it is like writing about the
impossibilities of daily life in spaces one begins to invent. However, it is  not exactly in soap bubbles (although the idea you offer is more beautiful)  that I see the houses floating. I really think of this as if there were no  place for them. As if there was no place for them to settle into. I always  think about a poem by Julles Supervielle which somewhat says the following:

I look in vaults that brutally surround me
Darkness overturned
In deep, deep boxes
As if no longer were of this world.

[...] I read this perhaps six or eight years ago, and ever since I have been  thinking of the impossibilities of a state of things that “põe trevas de pernas  pro ar” [overturn darkness]. This has greatly inspired me, and has driven me to  produce The House and later, through drawings, I found a field wherein I could  explore it better. Our email conversation has started a discussion on the practice of drawing,  having evolved into something more metaphysical:

– […] Dear José Bechara, to begin with, we must distance ourselves, in our  conversation, from a discussion of style as evoked by Wölflin.  I believe that,  at the time it was written, the author looked at the production of the past,  having as goal to determining a distinction between Michelangelo and Raphael. 
    I think that, in modernity, the linear and pictorial practices have fused in  the concept of object, and today it would have been impossible to write that  book. Who is interested in the issue of whether an artist is pictorial or  linear? I think that, back then, the distinction helped to distinguish one  artist's form of action from another’s. That would be impossible nowadays.
    Drawings were created as foundations, as preliminary “sketches” for a final  work. Previously, there existed the notion of search, in the direction of a  final destination, the painting. The modernist affirmation of the artist as  freed from any kind of academicism – either formal or conceptual – was key in  granting drawing definitive autonomy; a Picasso drawing, it is worth noting, is  as valuable as a painting. I always think that a drawing is never something  that searching beyond itself, but inside itself, for it requires great  concentration on the part of the artist, don't you think? Since you are a  painter who has persisted in the practice of solitary drawing, private, even  intimate, and since your work has been developing itself incisively into other  practices such as sculpture and installation, it is only now that your drawing  has gained significance along with the other practices and media to the point  of exhibiting it as autonomous. How did this take place, is it a way to show  the complexity of your work?
 
    – Paulo, starting from the last part of your question, thank you for  considering the form “way to show the complexity of your work”. It is just  daily work. My work researches painting, sculpture, and drawing, and attempts  to interplay these media with visual experiments in hopes that the resulting  artistic object, a sculpture, for example, implies in an idea for a painting [...] The time elapsing between them is not measured by conventional time- measuring tools. It is a time unique to the choices I make when I think about  what I am producing, even if this is not yet clear to me. I have recently  realized, that this is one of the reasons for organizing and publishing this  book, that the drawings I have produced over the past 20 years are, at one and  the same time, letters about things I have done, as well as autonomous pieces.
  This is something I rely on to bring together the body of work in this book, which I classify in different categories; among them, drawings made for a  project, drawings at the service of a final piece, a problem you also touch on.
  Well, even these drawings are autonomous to a degree: this double quality is an 
issue that transpires in the book. Now, as to how to identify this duplicity is  not all clear to me; it is fine to say that “from modernism onwards, etc...”  During the time I produced the drawings, (or if you prefer, during which I  drew) I used to see them as a separate area of my daily work, which, in the  beginning, when I had just left the Parque Lage, was painting. And I used to  draw, let's say, silently, as if I “wrote”, and “put down” ideas and, while I  was doing so, I thought: “It was for myself, and for no one else, for no  ulterior purpose beyond drawing itself [...] and this used to offer me, as it  still does, great freedom. It has only been in the last few years that I became  more confident in investigating drawing, in exhausting my possibilities in this  area. To finish, I don't think that this is a way to display, decipher, the  relations and connections in my work, but rather a path to approach the body of  my work in painting and sculpture.

    I think that José Bechara's work, as Fátima Lambert writes “develops around  precise concepts which translate the centrality of art in relation to life, in  a sense that I would dare say, is practically that of 'survival'. Thus emerge  productions around the series The House (Casa) for example, the paintings  called Cadernos rápidos, Mercúrio and Paramarelos. To abide in, to be in [...],  on the one hand, and, on the other, to reaffirm abstract and cognitive fields  through writing, drawings and objects able to channel it, are privileged  domains which synthesize the cohesion of the aesthetics and thought of a  Brazilian (as artist) author”.  A type of expansion of the already- expanded  fields, which are the practices of sculpture, drawing, painting and  installation. A work of art today exists as a symptom of continued expansion,  as we can see in artists such as Franz Ackerman, Tobias Rehberger, and José  Bechara, as they evoke a random and de-ambulating disposition between  sculpture, drawing and painting.

    Nicolas Bourriaud wrote, in a brief essay entitled “relational aesthetics”,  that artistic activity is not comprised of an immutable essence, but of a play in which form, modality, and function, evolve according to social settings and historical period. Critics evoke the notion of time and space to understand a work of art in a global world. He notes that art critics are charged with the task of studying artworks in the present, exchanging information with artists, studying their motivations and acting as intermediaries with the public. Borriaud thus complains, stating that modern criticism has reached a point of relative exhaustion, having been emptied out of the aesthetic criteria of  content, drawing on judgment handed down from the past which we continue to  apply to current artistic practice. This is illogical, since “novelty is no  longer valid criteria, except for among those outdated detractors of modern art  who retain of the hateful present only of that which their traditionalist  culture taught them to find abominating in the art of the past.” In order to  create more efficient tools and more adequate points of view, it is important  to apprehend the transformations currently happening in the social world,  capture what has already changed and what continues to change. How can one  understand the artistic behaviors manifested over the last two decades and  their lines of thought, if not by partaking in the same situations as the  artists, this is the issue posed by Bourriaud. It posits that it is only  possible to arrive at an answer through sharing experience. Allied to  intelligent obstinacy, artists must experience their artistic reveries, float  like a soap bubble, or throw “darkness overturned in deep, deep boxes, as if no  longer were of this world”.

Paulo Reis
Lisbon, January 2010


1 C'est que les hommes ne se comprennent qu'à mesure qu'ils sont animés des
mêmes passions Stendhal. Oeuvres de Stendhal‎, v. 28.
2 Dardo, nº 9. Santiago de Compostela: Dardo ds, 2008.
3 “Cézanne – Picasso, deux maîtres face à face“. Musée Granet, Aix-en-Province,
França, 2009.
4 Emails exchanged with the artist.
5 Heirich Wolflin. Fundamental Concepts of Art History. São Paulo: Martins
Fontes.
6 Maria de Fátima Lambert. In José Bechara – essa “cinza das horas”. Available
at www.josebechara.com
7 Nicolas Bourriaud. Esthétique relationnelle. Dijon: Les presses du réel, 1998
(Estética relacional. São Paulo: Martins Fontes, 2009).
 

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