El Soundtrack de la Tierra
Scientists describe soil by particle size, organic or inorganic material, moisture and acidity. The artists who mould the earth embrace the myth of origin, the one that explains the presence of the first man and woman in the world as the work of a god who gave them life through clay. The sculptors know how to manoeuvre the physical-chemical peculiarities of their materials to give life to the whims of their imagination, to renewed landscapes that enrich our relationship with the environment.
Sculptors such as Paloma Torres and María José Lavín have chiselled the air, blocked its transparency with pieces that sow forests inhabited by heart-women. The sculptors intervene the landscape to break its silence with provocative additions; be it in leather, paper clay or gold leaf —like in María José Lavín’s Venus—, be it in ceramic like the columns and walls that invite us to inhabit different kinds of cities built by Paloma Torres.
Not only does the earth provide its malleability and sponge-like faculties, but it also accepts the primal gifts of fire to establish its permanence. And so, after a silent and still appearance, the sculptors delve into the movement and power of the earth, into the secrets of seaweed, into the traces of a previous life kept with zeal, squeezing it, submitting it, carving it and, recognising the sustenance of an imperfect world, they make it scream, moan, sing. Two sculptors dialogue through their ways of seeing and capturing matter to reveal the sung dreams of the planet's earthy substratum.
It is enough to read them with your eyes. The rest, the revelation, will happen.
by Monica Lavín