sunday arts & style d5 arts ‘scream and shout’€¦ · “i never met him. how did he walk?...

1
Sunday, September 20, 2020 | Sunday Arts & Style | D5 background is bare-bot- tomed and corseted, hired from a Cabaret orchestra. A large, more or less female figure on the right has an exposed spinal cord made from yellow and orange strips. Biernnay points out one detail among the hundred or more in this single figure. The cup of her bra strap is a fragment of a subway map. In the skeletal groom, the lime green arm and leg bones come from a cyclist’s reflec- tive clothing. Another female figure, reclining in the lower left, is composed of blockier swatches, suggestive of cubist art. Kachmar is more precise, saying the figure is reminiscent of Jean Dubuf- fet, a leader of the art brut movement that embraced folk art. Sitting in front of her is a perky white dog wearing a golden crown. Biernnay says that’s his dog, Lola, the tapestry’s title character. He says he and his husband in Chile have been separated by the pandemic. Altogether, there are half dozen or so large tapestries in the exhibit. Some are explicitly religious like Biernnay’s version of “The Last Supper.” Raised Cath- olic during the materialistic Pinochet regime, he has made it satirical. The face- less disciples feast on fast food, while dollar nails fall off the table and crabs scrabble on the floor. Again, he has included himself, pointing to the smaller figure fourth from the right. “I’m always part of the crime,” he says. The exhibit, timed to Hispanic heritage month, runs to Oct. 31. The gallery can be visited without ap- pointment during regular hours at 265 Golden Hill St. Joel Lang is a freelance writer. T he City Lights Gallery in Bridgeport is giving the Chil- ean-born artist Carlos Bautista Biern- nay his first solo exhibit in the U.S. Biernnay himself, who now lives half the year in Hamden, says his work combines the ecclesiastic and the comic. Gallery Director Suzanne Kachmar, who has included him in recent group shows, says he can be an absurdist, com- bining the whimsical and the macabre. She also says his large tapestries, which dominate the exhibit, are so packed with visual information she can barely stop looking at them. One story they tell is of Bierrnay’s own life. Coming first in his per- sonal chronology is a tap- estry that shows two men sitting shoulder to shoulder on a park bench. Both are dressed in loud style. One wears a boldly striped suit, while the other sports a blue suit with big white polka dots. In another con- text, they might be vaude- ville performers between acts. But their faces are somber, even if they are patchworks of color. The context is loss and reunion. The man in pinstripes is Biernnay’s father, who died in an accident soon after Biernnay was born. The man in the polka dot suit is the artist himself. “I never met him. How did he walk? How did he talk? All my life I had the necessity to meet him,” says Biernnay, for whom En- glish is a second language. “Here, I’m having a con- versation with him. I get to know him. I just feel so happy.” He says he titled the piece “Sunday in the Park with George,” not as a ref- erence to the painter Georg- es Seurat or the Broadway musical that followed, but because his father’s name was Jorge. But what about the polka dots? Did Biern- nay have Seurat’s pointil- lism in mind. “Oh, no. I just love polka dots,” he says. Next in the chronology comes “Scream and Shout,” the large tapestry that gives the exhibit its title. This time Biernnay appears as a monstrous puppeteer loom- ing over a New York City skyline. One hand manipu- lates a skeleton, the other a sad-faced Pinocchio. A paper airplane crashes into one side of the puppeteer’s head, while a red-winged angel shelters between his legs. “Scream and Shout” refers to two life-altering events, for Biernnay and millions of others, that occurred on the same date, Sept. 11. In 1973, a coup brought the dictator Augus- to Pinochet to power in Chile. Then in 2001, it was the terrorist attack on Biernnay’s adopted country. “That’s me,” he says of the puppeteer. “For me that day, 9/11 in 1973, it hap- pened again. I feel like I have to scream.” He says he cast himself as the puppet master be- cause he refuses to see himself as an innocent bystander to shattering events. “I think it’s part of who I am. I represent what I believe about the politics. The puppet strings show the power: the victims of power and the power of the manipulator.” Kachmar points out that the puppet master wears a broken heart on the outside of his chest and that even he is controlled by a hook screwed into the top of his head. “That’s my connec- tion to God,” Biernnay says. He first came to the U.S. for formal art training. He concentrated in painting at the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York and weaving at the Port- land Fiber Gallery. But he says his first training began as a child, observing his mother, grandmother and aunts make what they needed during the Pinochet regime. “They were doing everything: clothes, sheets for the bed, pillows,” he says. “I had my inspiration from them.” In 2010, he returned to Chile for more schooling. While there he says, “I tried to find a connection with my past. So I started sew- ing.” Now, his tapestries are sewn mostly by machine and assembled from fabric remnants and oddments he may find in flea markets. His willingness to mix and match with what’s at hand lends a Latin folk art flavor to his work. Skeletons abound, as in Day of the Dead celebrations. “In my life, I have a lot of connections with the dead. It’s always around me. So I’m not scared about it. I live with it. It’s part of life,” he says. He also revels in his freedom of choice. “You know, when I work I don’t have control. I do what I have to do,” he says. Biernnay seems to have poured all his impulses into the wall-filling tapestry opposite the City Lights’ entrance titled “Fiesta de la Lola.” He says it is a cele- bration of his own same sex wedding. What a wedding it just have been! As Kach- mar might say, it’s loaded with information. At first, it appears the skeletal robot in the center of the tapestry must be the groom. Seated magisterially in a throne chair, he rests a loving hand on a kneeling, lipsticked figure who wears a dark veil. But then you notice the supposed groom also is veiled and wears polka-dotted ,high heeled shoes. There are five or six wed- ding guests, all fashioned from such a profusion of cut and sewn materials that they somehow appear na- ked and colorfully armored at the same time. A free- floating bass player in the Arts ‘SCREAM AND SHOUT’ CARLOS BAUTISTA BIERNNAY CONNECTS PERSONAL AND PUBLIC TRAGEDIES AT CITY LIGHTS GALLERY By Joel Lang City Lights Gallery / Contributed photos “Sunday in the Park With George” imagines the artist meeting his late father, Jorge. Below, Biernnay references two different 9/11 horrors in one work. Right, Carlos Bautista Biernnay’s self-portrait incorporates a pink flamingo.

Upload: others

Post on 27-Sep-2020

0 views

Category:

Documents


0 download

TRANSCRIPT

Page 1: Sunday Arts & Style D5 Arts ‘SCREAM AND SHOUT’€¦ · “I never met him. How did he walk? How did he talk? All my life I had the necessity to meet him,” says Biernnay, for

Sunday, September 20, 2020 | Sunday Arts & Style | D5

background is bare-bot-tomed and corseted, hiredfrom a Cabaret orchestra.

A large, more or lessfemale figure on the righthas an exposed spinal cordmade from yellow andorange strips. Biernnaypoints out one detail amongthe hundred or more in thissingle figure. The cup ofher bra strap is a fragmentof a subway map. In theskeletal groom, the limegreen arm and leg bonescome from a cyclist’s reflec-tive clothing.

Another female figure,reclining in the lower left, iscomposed of blockierswatches, suggestive ofcubist art. Kachmar is moreprecise, saying the figure isreminiscent of Jean Dubuf-fet, a leader of the art brutmovement that embracedfolk art.

Sitting in front of her is aperky white dog wearing agolden crown. Biernnaysays that’s his dog, Lola, the

tapestry’s title character. Hesays he and his husband inChile have been separatedby the pandemic.

Altogether, there are halfdozen or so large tapestriesin the exhibit. Some areexplicitly religious likeBiernnay’s version of “TheLast Supper.” Raised Cath-olic during the materialisticPinochet regime, he hasmade it satirical. The face-less disciples feast on fastfood, while dollar nails falloff the table and crabsscrabble on the floor.Again, he has includedhimself, pointing to thesmaller figure fourth fromthe right. “I’m always partof the crime,” he says.

The exhibit, timed toHispanic heritage month,runs to Oct. 31. The gallerycan be visited without ap-pointment during regularhours at 265 Golden Hill St.

Joel Lang is a freelancewriter.

The CityLightsGallery inBridgeportis givingthe Chil-ean-born

artist Carlos Bautista Biern-nay his first solo exhibit inthe U.S.

Biernnay himself, whonow lives half the year inHamden, says his workcombines the ecclesiasticand the comic. GalleryDirector Suzanne Kachmar,who has included him inrecent group shows, says hecan be an absurdist, com-bining the whimsical andthe macabre.

She also says his largetapestries, which dominatethe exhibit, are so packedwith visual information shecan barely stop looking atthem. One story they tell isof Bierrnay’s own life.

Coming first in his per-sonal chronology is a tap-estry that shows two mensitting shoulder to shoulderon a park bench. Both aredressed in loud style. Onewears a boldly striped suit,while the other sports ablue suit with big whitepolka dots. In another con-text, they might be vaude-ville performers betweenacts. But their faces aresomber, even if they arepatchworks of color. Thecontext is loss and reunion.

The man in pinstripes isBiernnay’s father, who diedin an accident soon afterBiernnay was born. Theman in the polka dot suit isthe artist himself.

“I never met him. Howdid he walk? How did hetalk? All my life I had thenecessity to meet him,” saysBiernnay, for whom En-glish is a second language.“Here, I’m having a con-versation with him. I get toknow him. I just feel sohappy.”

He says he titled thepiece “Sunday in the Parkwith George,” not as a ref-erence to the painter Georg-es Seurat or the Broadwaymusical that followed, butbecause his father’s namewas Jorge. But what aboutthe polka dots? Did Biern-nay have Seurat’s pointil-lism in mind. “Oh, no. I justlove polka dots,” he says.

Next in the chronologycomes “Scream and Shout,”the large tapestry that givesthe exhibit its title. Thistime Biernnay appears as amonstrous puppeteer loom-ing over a New York Cityskyline. One hand manipu-lates a skeleton, the other asad-faced Pinocchio. Apaper airplane crashes intoone side of the puppeteer’shead, while a red-wingedangel shelters between hislegs.

“Scream and Shout”refers to two life-alteringevents, for Biernnay andmillions of others, thatoccurred on the same date,Sept. 11. In 1973, a coupbrought the dictator Augus-to Pinochet to power inChile. Then in 2001, it wasthe terrorist attack onBiernnay’s adopted country.

“That’s me,” he says ofthe puppeteer. “For me thatday, 9/11 in 1973, it hap-pened again. I feel like Ihave to scream.”

He says he cast himselfas the puppet master be-cause he refuses to seehimself as an innocentbystander to shatteringevents. “I think it’s part ofwho I am. I represent whatI believe about the politics.The puppet strings showthe power: the victims ofpower and the power of themanipulator.”

Kachmar points out thatthe puppet master wears abroken heart on the outsideof his chest and that evenhe is controlled by a hookscrewed into the top of hishead. “That’s my connec-tion to God,” Biernnay says.

He first came to the U.S.for formal art training. Heconcentrated in painting atthe Fashion Institute ofTechnology in New Yorkand weaving at the Port-land Fiber Gallery. But hesays his first training beganas a child, observing hismother, grandmother andaunts make what theyneeded during the Pinochetregime. “They were doingeverything: clothes, sheetsfor the bed, pillows,” hesays. “I had my inspirationfrom them.”

In 2010, he returned toChile for more schooling.While there he says, “I triedto find a connection withmy past. So I started sew-ing.” Now, his tapestries aresewn mostly by machineand assembled from fabricremnants and oddments hemay find in flea markets.His willingness to mix andmatch with what’s at handlends a Latin folk art flavorto his work. Skeletonsabound, as in Day of theDead celebrations.

“In my life, I have a lot ofconnections with the dead.It’s always around me. SoI’m not scared about it. I

live with it. It’s part of life,”he says. He also revels inhis freedom of choice. “Youknow, when I work I don’thave control. I do what Ihave to do,” he says.

Biernnay seems to havepoured all his impulses intothe wall-filling tapestryopposite the City Lights’entrance titled “Fiesta de laLola.” He says it is a cele-bration of his own same sexwedding. What a weddingit just have been! As Kach-mar might say, it’s loadedwith information.

At first, it appears theskeletal robot in the centerof the tapestry must be thegroom. Seated magisteriallyin a throne chair, he rests aloving hand on a kneeling,lipsticked figure who wearsa dark veil. But then younotice the supposed groomalso is veiled and wearspolka-dotted ,high heeledshoes.

There are five or six wed-ding guests, all fashionedfrom such a profusion ofcut and sewn materials thatthey somehow appear na-ked and colorfully armoredat the same time. A free-floating bass player in the

Arts

‘SCREAM AND SHOUT’CARLOS BAUTISTA BIERNNAY CONNECTS PERSONAL AND PUBLIC TRAGEDIES AT CITY LIGHTS GALLERY

By Joel Lang

City Lights Gallery / Contributed photos

“Sunday in the Park With George” imagines the artist meeting his late father, Jorge.Below, Biernnay references two different 9/11 horrors in one work. Right, CarlosBautista Biernnay’s self-portrait incorporates a pink flamingo.