TEXTS / A ILUSÃO É UM ARTIFICIO - YAGO TOSCANO
O início do século XIX foi fundamental para a compreensão do ilusionismo como um espetáculo nobre. Os números até então realizados nas ruas conquistam o requintado espaço dos grandes teatros, adquirindo apreço do meio artístico e também maior refinamento de seus efeitos.
Surgem com isso novas necessidades, outros elementos, máquinas mirabolantes e os assistentes de palco. O assistente, por sua vez, é tão ilusionista quanto o mágico em si. Ele é a figura responsável por produzir o momento phantasma que ilusiona o espectador enquanto o mágico realiza seu escape; ele prepara o céu para o raio cair.
O Factótum representa bem esta habilidade, pois é, a rigor, aquele capaz de tudo trazer ao mundo; de concretizar, em alguma instância, as coisas no limite de sua impossibilidade. Essa figura ressurge aqui através de um labor reencantado pela negociação. O Factótum representa um exercício de assistência limitado ao lugar didático do fazer e mediado pela delegação de funções individuais em uma elaboração coletiva. Entretanto, contradizendo tal limitação, esta apresentação ou mostra de trabalhos é concebida a quatro mãos, a partir de uma ideia de
“assistência” alterada pela subjetividade conceitual, poética e formal dos artistas aqui presentes.
As pinturas de Arthur Palhano tratam da materialização de imagens que invocadas do tempo, percorrem um longo caminho de representação simbólica dentro de um imaginário coletivo. O espaço de reflexão formal de sua pintura lida com a negociação dos contornos e da presença entre o que já foi e o que será visto em sua totalidade; entre o que se revela e o que é ocultado pela ordem processual do trabalho.
“Indagações sobre corrida e a sombra da morte” (2024) revela em seu título parte das questões formais decisivas na pintura de Palhano, diante da qual a sombra da morte surge enquanto operação metonímica para refletir a persistência do indício da imagem mesmo na sobreposição densa de camadas.
A pintura previamente preparada para o México, revela contornos de seu conteúdo anterior, na iminente presença dessas imagens enquanto forma-fantasma. Contudo, estes fantasmas não surgem ali para nos assombrar ou dissuadir sua persistência figurativa, mas anunciar a vontade própria que as imagens possuem de transpor seu tempo e contradizer a linearidade histórica de suas tradições, possibilitando a construção de outras narrativas, sobretudo históricas, para a leitura de outros mundos. "Máquina Pulso" (2024) de Rodrigo
Atallah opera como esse sismógrafo sensível, uma espécie de vidência coordenada pelos impulsos individuais da máquina ao captar as vibrações das diferentes energias dispersas no mundo, mapeando sons, corpos, seres e seus ecos, bem como o rumo de cada um de seus componentes interligados que, por fim, se destinam a imagem. O desenho, surge não apenas como componente processual que atribui sentido mais amplo à Máquina Pulso, mas como indício para o vasto território que a compõe.
"Leviatã" (2024), por exemplo, consiste em um desenho de estudo anatômico de baleia.
Entretanto, a maneira como Atallah disseca o monstro (que nos remete tanto a figura abissal bíblica quanto à fera marítima de Melville) parece semelhante a forma que se desmontaria um motor ou um componente da Máquina
Atallah, opera sua máquina como um operador atento e receptivo aos sinais que ela impulsiona e não apenas porque é capaz de manipulá-la, mas porque insiste em seu contato. Assim, translitera o que se dá no campo do ruído sonoro, do calor e da vibração para o campo da visualidade. Os desenhos da série "Máquina Pulso", portanto, se manifestam como uma espécie de captação visual da vontade própria dos impulsos da Máquina. Criador e criação compartilham entre si de um diálogo inefável, de natureza quase indecifrável.
Artistas e poéticas parecem coincidir com um estado de atenção aos tremores e chamados que persistem na superfície das coisas, cujo eco transpõe seu tempo em busca de novas leituras e significados. No caso de Palhano, essa atenção se manifesta nas iconografias, nos símbolos, nas, nas ruínas esquecidas, nos processos de subversão de seus suportes de interesse e sobretudo no questionamento implicante dos valores representacionais da pintura tradicional. Rodrigo Atallah, de maneira similar, reúne cuidadosamente os objetos-componentes de sua obra na medida em que os faz aliados de pequenas inserções literárias ou da história da arte, mas sobretudo da vida cotidiana que os cerca. Ou seja, se os objetos da Máquina Pulso atuam na captação de forças sensíveis, isto só é possível porque antes foram imantados da energia de outras existências, histórias e significados; por memórias outras de sua funcionalidade.
Ao retomarmos o Factótum e considerarmos que as obras aqui presentes desempenham papel autônomo na construção de seus sentidos, cabe perguntarmos quem assiste a quem? A obra assiste ao artista ou manifesta a assistência do artista às questões que o sensibilizam no mundo? Os trabalhos aqui presentes parecem gerar tais perguntas, sobretudo porque ao lidar com a urgência de se pensar a força que constitui as imagens e os objetos, utilizam a ilusão como artifício para expandir uma noção de realidade. Ora aliada, ora oponente, mas sempre passível de questionamento. Afinal, a realidade ainda é a questão.
The beginning of the 19th century was fundamental for understanding illusionism as a noble spectacle. The performances that had previously taken place in the streets conquered the refined space of grand theaters, gaining appreciation from the artistic community and also a greater refinement of their effects. This brought about new needs, other elements, elaborate machines, and stage assistants. The assistant, in turn, is as much an illusionist as the magician himself. He is the figure responsible for creating the phantasmic moment that enchants the spectator while the magician executes his escape; he prepares the sky for the lightning to strike.
The Factótum embodies this skill well, as it is, strictly speaking, the one capable of bringing everything into the world; to materialize, in some instances, things at the limit of their impossibility. This figure resurfaces here through a labor re-enchanted by negotiation. The Factótum represents an exercise of assistance limited to the didactic place of doing, mediated by the delegation of individual functions in a collective elaboration. However, contradicting such limitation, this presentation or exhibition of works is conceived by four hands, based on an idea of “assistance” altered by the conceptual, poetic, and formal subjectivity of the artists present here.
Arthur Palhano's paintings address the materialization of images invoked from time, traversing a long path of symbolic representation within a collective imaginary. The formal space of reflection in his painting deals with the negotiation of outlines and presence between what has been and what will be seen in its entirety; between what is revealed and what is hidden by the procedural order of the work. “Inquiries About Race and the Shadow of Death” (2024) reveals in its title part of the decisive formal questions in Palhano's painting, wherein the shadow of death emerges as a metonymic operation to reflect the persistence of the image's indication even in the dense overlapping of layers.
The painting previously prepared for Mexico reveals outlines of its prior content, in the imminent presence of these images as ghost-forms. However, these ghosts do not appear there to haunt us or dissuade their figurative persistence, but to announce the images' own desire to transcend their time and contradict the historical linearity of their traditions, enabling the construction of other narratives, especially historical ones, for reading other worlds.
“Pulse Machine” (2024) by Rodrigo Atallah operates as a sensitive seismograph, a kind of clairvoyance coordinated by the individual impulses of the machine as it captures the vibrations of different energies dispersed in the world, mapping sounds, bodies, beings, and their echoes, as well as the trajectory of each of their interconnected components that ultimately lead to the image. The drawing emerges not only as a procedural component that gives a broader meaning to Pulse Machine, but as an indication of the vast territory it encompasses. “Leviathan” (2024), for example, consists of a drawing of an anatomical study of a whale. However, the way Atallah dissects the monster (which refers both to the biblical abyssal figure and Melville’s sea beast) seems akin to how one would dismantle an engine or a component of the Machine.
Atallah operates his machine as an attentive and receptive operator to the signals it generates, not only because he is capable of manipulating it, but because he insists on maintaining contact. Thus, he transliterates what occurs in the realm of sound, heat, and vibration into the visual field. The drawings from the “Pulse Machine” series therefore manifest as a kind of visual capture of the machine's own impulses. Creator and creation share an ineffable dialogue, of almost indecipherable nature. Artists and poetics seem to coincide with a state of attention to the tremors and calls that persist on the surface of things, whose echoes transcend their time in search of new readings and meanings.
In Palhano's case, this attention manifests in iconographies, symbols, forgotten ruins, and the processes of subversion of their supports of interest, especially in the implicating questioning of the representational values of traditional painting. Rodrigo Atallah, similarly, carefully gathers the component-objects of his work as he makes them allies of small literary insertions or art history, but above all of the everyday life that surrounds them. That is, if the objects of Pulse Machine act in capturing sensitive forces, this is only possible because they were previously imbued with the energy of other existences, histories, and meanings; through other memories of their functionality.
When we return to the Factótum and consider that the works present here play an autonomous role in constructing their meanings, we must ask: who assists whom? Does the work assist the artist or manifest the artist's assistance to the issues that sensitize him in the world? The works here seem to generate such questions, especially because, when dealing with the urgency of thinking about the force that constitutes images and objects, they use illusion as a device to expand a notion of reality. Sometimes allied, sometimes opposing, but always subject to questioning. After all, reality remains the question.
The Factótum embodies this skill well, as it is, strictly speaking, the one capable of bringing everything into the world; to materialize, in some instances, things at the limit of their impossibility. This figure resurfaces here through a labor re-enchanted by negotiation. The Factótum represents an exercise of assistance limited to the didactic place of doing, mediated by the delegation of individual functions in a collective elaboration. However, contradicting such limitation, this presentation or exhibition of works is conceived by four hands, based on an idea of “assistance” altered by the conceptual, poetic, and formal subjectivity of the artists present here.
Arthur Palhano's paintings address the materialization of images invoked from time, traversing a long path of symbolic representation within a collective imaginary. The formal space of reflection in his painting deals with the negotiation of outlines and presence between what has been and what will be seen in its entirety; between what is revealed and what is hidden by the procedural order of the work. “Inquiries About Race and the Shadow of Death” (2024) reveals in its title part of the decisive formal questions in Palhano's painting, wherein the shadow of death emerges as a metonymic operation to reflect the persistence of the image's indication even in the dense overlapping of layers.
The painting previously prepared for Mexico reveals outlines of its prior content, in the imminent presence of these images as ghost-forms. However, these ghosts do not appear there to haunt us or dissuade their figurative persistence, but to announce the images' own desire to transcend their time and contradict the historical linearity of their traditions, enabling the construction of other narratives, especially historical ones, for reading other worlds.
“Pulse Machine” (2024) by Rodrigo Atallah operates as a sensitive seismograph, a kind of clairvoyance coordinated by the individual impulses of the machine as it captures the vibrations of different energies dispersed in the world, mapping sounds, bodies, beings, and their echoes, as well as the trajectory of each of their interconnected components that ultimately lead to the image. The drawing emerges not only as a procedural component that gives a broader meaning to Pulse Machine, but as an indication of the vast territory it encompasses. “Leviathan” (2024), for example, consists of a drawing of an anatomical study of a whale. However, the way Atallah dissects the monster (which refers both to the biblical abyssal figure and Melville’s sea beast) seems akin to how one would dismantle an engine or a component of the Machine.
Atallah operates his machine as an attentive and receptive operator to the signals it generates, not only because he is capable of manipulating it, but because he insists on maintaining contact. Thus, he transliterates what occurs in the realm of sound, heat, and vibration into the visual field. The drawings from the “Pulse Machine” series therefore manifest as a kind of visual capture of the machine's own impulses. Creator and creation share an ineffable dialogue, of almost indecipherable nature. Artists and poetics seem to coincide with a state of attention to the tremors and calls that persist on the surface of things, whose echoes transcend their time in search of new readings and meanings.
In Palhano's case, this attention manifests in iconographies, symbols, forgotten ruins, and the processes of subversion of their supports of interest, especially in the implicating questioning of the representational values of traditional painting. Rodrigo Atallah, similarly, carefully gathers the component-objects of his work as he makes them allies of small literary insertions or art history, but above all of the everyday life that surrounds them. That is, if the objects of Pulse Machine act in capturing sensitive forces, this is only possible because they were previously imbued with the energy of other existences, histories, and meanings; through other memories of their functionality.
When we return to the Factótum and consider that the works present here play an autonomous role in constructing their meanings, we must ask: who assists whom? Does the work assist the artist or manifest the artist's assistance to the issues that sensitize him in the world? The works here seem to generate such questions, especially because, when dealing with the urgency of thinking about the force that constitutes images and objects, they use illusion as a device to expand a notion of reality. Sometimes allied, sometimes opposing, but always subject to questioning. After all, reality remains the question.
- YAGO TOSCANO