montañera: MFA Solo Show by CRISTINA VELÁSQUEZ


April 6-8, 2017
 from 6-9 pm at ICP Bard MFA Studio in LIC

“Art is the means by which I can break through the gates of my own history to perceive my culture in a different way. I would like to undertake this task, particularly today, when the demand to reflect on the present, as we gaze at the possibility of a different future, also requires that we revise the construction of our past”.

Over the last two years, Cristina Velásquez has developed a body of work that stems from observations of everyday life in Colombia. In her first solo exhibition, montañera, the artist studies different ways of experiencing a place where the absurd viscerally presents itself everyday and reality is exaggerated through contradictions that evade the artist who tries to describe them. Through examinations of the Colombian culture, history and geography, Velásquez reinterprets reality, using elements of fiction and artifice to undermine assumptions and confound the sensation of truth.

Through photography, weaving and text, Velasquez’s work explores the power —and limitations— of representation and translation, between individuals and cultures of resistance. It attends to the ways in which shared notions of value are shaped—and governed—by images, social conventions, and political relationships between different cultures. The artist uses her own experience as a Colombian artist and her transition into the US, as a point of reference to investigate notions of civilization, beauty and race, in relationship to other culture’s. In particular, many of Velásquez’s pieces consider how Colombian history and national identity have been constructed against a backdrop of colonialism and political dependence.


Cristina Velásquez (b. 1985 – Colombia) is a visual artist working mainly with photography and two-dimensional objects on paper. She holds a B.A. in Industrial Design from Universidad de Los Andes, Colombia, and is currently enrolled in the ICP-Bard MFA Program, in Advanced Photography Studies at New York City, U.S. where she was awarded the ICP Director’s Scholarship (Colombia 2016-2017). Cristina was part of the School of Visual Arts Photo Residency in 2014 and has been part of several group exhibitions in New York City since 2012. Her artist-books -Rear Door, /100 and One way of letting go- are part of the permanent collection of the ICP Library.

Casting Call, An Interview with Melchior De Tinguy

Throughout his work, Melchior de Tinguy brings together various references to modernist architecture and monumental structures inspired by Le Corbusier, Walter Gropius or Roberto Burle Marx. The utopia conveyed by these seemingly grandiose references is funneled through his sculptural process to give birth to slightly grotesque anthropomorphic sculptures. Set on a stage-like platform, these intimate characters and their bodies made of concrete, plaster, and steel rods, occupy a space between a small theatrical production, and an oversized urban diorama.

Informed by the urban textures and surfaces observed by Tinguy on a daily basis both in New York City and in Bahrain where he was born, this sculptural installation highlights his lasting interest in urbanization and its social, cultural and psychological implications.

De Tinguy’s exhibition is on view March 30, 2017 – April 2, 2017.

Naima Green: Lets start with your process. Where did these pieces begin for you?

Melchior de Tinguy: The starting point happened in April towards the end of my first year. I was working on a photograph I made: an iteration of a cement image found on the internet and I made a cement frame for it. That was specifically the moment that triggered everything, manipulating materials was a big break through for me. I was focused on architectural materials, building materials. I wanted to get as close as possible. As you know, cement is the most used material in modernist architecture, particularly brutalist architecture.

Screen Shot 2017-03-29 at 6.05.01 PM

Through this process I began to understand a lot of things about the pictures I was  making before the program. I was making architectural pictures. I was working in Bahrain, I was born there and before I came to New York I was living there for three years. I was making a series of photographs where I was investigating the urban landscapes in Bahrain. I focused on the changes of the urban landscape itself.

NG: I see so much of your palette in looking at these pictures. 

MT: Yes, there is no doubt that I consider Bahrain my home, and I have a huge attachment to its color palette.  I think in a way, that living in New York forced me to look closer at details, finding my own colors and patterns I would notice in the streets or the in the subway.

You see the sculptures are made out of fragments of buildings I find appealing. I also researched Le Corbusier, the Bauhaus school, and other modernist architects. I have a particular interest towards brutalist architecture. The MET Breuer is one of my favorite buildings in New York. It is cold and monumental and the body is forced to engaged with its structure.  However by making my own forms out of these materials and turning them into anthropomorphic sculptures, I turn a physical reaction upside down and from negative to positive. This is where my photographic eye comes in.

Making work that is informed by so much rigidity and coldness was something I was trying very hard to break. I discovered the work of artist and architect Roberto Burl Marx. Most of the forms you see in his work are organic to me and an incredible way to think about structures within organisms. And this is where painting came in for me. Painting on a surface like painting on a wall. Putting colors on my sculptures like you find graffiti on wall, but also as they have an anthropomorphic quality thinking about make up or body paint. My thesis show will be theatrical. 

NG: In what ways?

MT: There will be a stage and those sculptures can finally find a way to be in conversation. They become characters and they will operate together. It is the only way I think to really understand what my relation is to them. I think they have other qualities not only architectural, they also resemble artifacts from another time, especially the hieroglyphic cubes. This guy, pictured below (center), is inspired by a photograph and drawing of Mario Botta’s Gotthard Bank.

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I’m trying to bring my research directly into the work and I think it is important to allow them to operate and live on their own.

NG: What is the process of imprinting?

MT: This is where I can see it is a photographer making sculptures. Not only by the negative and positive process that is inherent to molding and casting but the fact that you see details only from the front. They do not have a back.

NG: Are you cutting away or are you adding on? Your work brings up those questions for me. 

MT: I tell myself that these are sculptures from a photographic point of view. I’ve been making photographs for eight years. There is no doubt I think like a photographer. In some aspects, sculpture and photography have so much in common.

NG: What about the colors and the tactile aspect? What drew you to making objects in the first place, aside from photographing the concrete and thinking about the concrete? 

MT: That’s what happened. I got so used to looking at something and never touching it. Coming so close to the surface of something… I had a tendency of always making picture from a far distance. In a way I was not physically engaged with the questions I raised in my work.

Coming so close made me want to use the materials and I can think of my work like a building filled with characters. The sculptures have names and they are on stage, like in a theater. 


‘Revisit’ – MFA Thesis show by Marla Hernandez

On the top floor at the ICP-Bard studios lives an experience. As I walk up the stairs to the exhibition from Marla Hernandez, the expectation (seeing how this is a program in advance photographic study) is to see photographs. But Hernandez invites the viewer into a space that immediately throws that normal expectations out the window. Initially confronted with a small a photograph lives inside an envelope, the work starts to play on the viewers physical distance to the work. For this piece demanded I look closer — and soon I found out that much of the work demands a specific interactions.

Familiar objects appear. The material that her photographs are printed on recall for me the softness of fabric. I know how this feels and I want to touch it. But should I touch the work? I decide to step back and fight my urge and give my full attention to the piece. The photograph simulates what I want to feel. The photograph of a cloth mimics its softness but yet its disrupted with high contrast. The work is pushing and pulling my senses in an interesting ways. Is that the value of a photographic work that lives off the wall?

To my right a bright color is glowing. A florescent pink calls me to it, but it rejects me. In neon, the words ‘Fuck You’ appear. I move on. There is a room that is guarded by a black cloth, similar to the photograph. I push through, for my immediate reaction is get the cloth out of my way so I can see! On the other side lives a dark room. There are several pieces glowing, and in the center is box shape. The darkness is still and quiet. As you sit in the space your eyes change and so do the pieces.

I notice there are some stairs in the space leading up to something. My initial reaction was to walk up the stairs to view the work presented at the top. The vertigo I feel when being up high while looking at that piece that is pointed down reminded me of my position in within the space, which was not a normal one. This brings forth the ideas of illusion and power through out the work. What better way to talk about these things then through other senses then your eyes.

I had a chance to sit down and talk with Marla about her work:

Jacob Garcia:  I often times find the show title to be somewhat of a key to an exhibition. Can you talk about what the word Revisit means?

Marla Hernandez: I wanted to pick a title that suited the somewhat elusive nature of my work. Revisit came up as it represented both the immersive nature of installation and the ritualistic aspect of objects coming together. I chose the title also because it’s relative to the aspect of haunting. A haunt typically is a place someone comes back to again and again and likewise, for a ghost, which represents a replaying of a historicized moment. When the installation is together it manifests a presence.

JG: Following up on that question, the word visit tends to be a way for a person to position their body. We visit this place or I am visiting you.. Can you talk about your work in relation to the bodily experience?

MH: I absolutely agree, visit or visiting is a specific action that talks about bodily presence. I call upon the viewer’s experience of art to be one of both touch and sight. The materials and sculptural elements call upon a sensuality that is both tactile and seductive. The level of bodily experience is activated on a spectrum throughout the works. At it’s height of sensuality is within the darkened room in which I remove the better part of your sense of seeing in the exhibition. In this space I think that the darkness helps to create a deeper sense of fluidity of bodies in an ambiguous space. In addition, the darkness maintains a certain level of anonymity between the viewers to maintain intimacy.

JG: How do materials function in your work? The work has photographic elements, but a lot of it blurs the line between photography and sculpture.

MH: At first, the curiosity of working with plastic and metal netting, plexiglass, silk, chain, and found objects had a direct relationship to the lens and the camera, as I’d construct environments with the materials for photographing. The materials began to take on an allegorical meaning in my work, exemplifying other themes of seduction and concealment as they began to stand on their own rather than for their depictive quality in a picture. In this way, the objects have a flexible relationship; they are either at the will of photographic abstraction or have the authority to subvert simply being a photograph. This push and pull of photography and sculpture is demonstrated by my piece Silk Palm, a photograph printed on silk that subverts photographic presentation by being draped on a chain so that it is not wholly visible and irreverent to the rectangle.

JG: I am always curious how one starts to bring the photograph “off” the wall. When did you start making pieces that were more sculptural?

MH: I must first acknowledge, this was a scary moment for me as a photographer and I wanted it so bad. There is always a kind of “filter” or “safety” in presenting objects and sculptures as photographs compared to presenting the things themselves. Once objects are in the room with you, a whole world of relationships opens up between the viewer, the architecture, and history of a space. However, it seemed like an important natural progression for my work because I was equally concerned with the viewer and spatial relationships within my pictures. My first sculptural pieces were these shadow boxes that contained images of staged environments I photographed then placed florescent orange and hot pink plexi glass inside that served the spatial planes of the pictures themselves. They are very special pieces to me and it is evident in the kind of magic and preciousness they contain.

JG: Lets talk about your “Shrouded Sculpture.” It is mentioned in the press release and it seems to be an important part of the show. Can you tell us more about that piece?

MH: There are many layers to this piece, both the relationship of photography and sculpture that I am blurring and point to mysticism and allegory that is part of the installation. Conceptually speaking, I am covering a sculpture with a large silk sewn shroud that contains a collage of chains I photographed. In this particular situation, I am talking about the mutability and relationships of the materials; a pliable fabric that conforms to the shape of the sculpture while still concealing what exactly is underneath with image. The “sculpture” itself has a direct relationship to size of a body. That much is evident but, what I am concealing, or restraining, or protecting is never revealed.

JG:  You speak about demonstrating power and seduction with your work — specifically through the materials you use. I have two questions concerning this:

What is your fascination with these ideas of power and seduction?

Are your uses of particular materials that suggest these dynamics derived from a historical context or a personal one?

MH: The materials definitely relate to both a historical context and have some personal decisions. Importantly, I think that my ideas of power and seduction are related to confounding understandings of power and that seduction in itself is a form of power. Things like hypnosis and enticement have the same type of draw compared to direct forms of power. So in that way, some of my smallest pieces, like the security envelope, suggest a kind of power that seduces and brings you closer, to have an intimate relationship with the art, unlike the experience of power one may feel when looking at a large scale piece by Richard Serra or Michael Heizer in which I feel more distance is created between the body and the work through it’s sheer scale. And as for the context of materials, historically speaking, vision’s relationship to materials and the body, especially in the context that Michel Foucault wrote about the panopticon in Discipline and Punish or in Jonathan Crary’s Techniques of the Observer in which he described the “tangibility” of vision as an integral part of classical theories of optics in the 17th and 18th century. Drapery became a focal point of painting in its ability to describe a realness in which one might reach out and touch the fabric to reveal the photograph behind it but only to find that it was apart of the painting itself. Aside from the historical aspects of vision and touch, my own aspect of seduction is apparent in the choice of materials I use and sometimes their particular personal relationship to my own body and experiences.




Silk Palm                         Cut3

The Readable City at Angell Gallery


Jessica Thalmann. Moonlight, 2017. Archival Pigment Print, 20 x 30 inches, Edition of 10.



Angell Gallery
April 7–29, 2017

Opening reception Friday April 7 from 7 to 9pm

ANGELL GALLERY is pleased to present THE READABLE CITY, a group show featuring seven artists from Toronto and Montreal, working in photography, collage, video, sculpture and installation. The exhibition is curated by Associate Director Bill Clarke and features artists: Anna Eyler, Malka Greene, Eva Kolcze, Ella Dawn McGeough, Aude Moreau, Simone Rochon & Jessica Thalmann. Taking its title from a phrase in French scholar Michel de Certeau’s essay “Walking in the City”, the exhibition runs from April 5 through 29, with an opening reception on Friday, April 4 from 7:00 to 9:00 p.m.

How often have you traversed a city park using a path worn into the grass by others rather than walking the route laid down by the park’s designers? When describing how to get from point A to point B in the city, are you more likely to think in terms of street names and numbers, or landmarks and buildings passed by on the way? Have you walked in a parade or occupied a public space during a demonstration.

In “Walking in the City” and “Spatial Stories” – essays found in The Practice of Everyday Life* – French scholar Michel de Certeau examines how we unconsciously navigate urban environments by using “tactics” like those above in response to the “strategies” employed by institutions and governments  to control our movements and influence our behaviours. Certeau, surveying New York City from the top of the then newly built World Trade Center towers, describes how governments, institutions and corporations view the city  as a unified whole, structuring streets in grids, naming parks or squares, and raising buildings and monuments that “historicize, hierarchize and semantically order the surface of the city.” The city’s inhabitants, meanwhile, resist these strictures by creating shortcuts, seizing control of public areas or defacing surfaces. For Certeau, cities are sites of struggle between forces of control and those of expression.

Unlike the capital cities of Europe, New York hasn’t “learned the art of growing old by playing on all its pasts,” according to Certeau. The same could be said of Toronto, which, like New York, seems always to be “in the act of throwing away its previous accomplishments and challenging the future.” (The same may not be said of a city like Montreal, which has done more to preserve a sense of its past.) Cities, however, are more than architecture and infrastructure. They are places where people seek success, acceptance and community, and arenas in which social movements coalesce and ideas ferment.

The exhibition also picks up on another thread in Certeau’s essays; that is, how people’s presence in spaces turn them into places. The artists here closely observe the surfaces of the city and give them new form, We are invited to consider how our actions shape the cities in which we live, and how, through collective action, we can produce communities in which everyone can say, “I feel good here.”

Text by Bill Clarke

*Quotes taken from: de Certeau, Michael: The Practice of Everyday Life: translation: Steven Rendall, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1984.