Paintings and Personajes

Lucas Varela, it turns out, is not only an illustrator, but a painter as well. He has been painting for years and, coincidentally, had a gallery show with artist Mariano Vior* the day after our interview. During the interview, he told me that he was a better illustrator than painter, and joked that he purchased six cases of wine to make the audience more partial to the paintings. I imagine that the transition between illustration and painting must be difficult. The creation process is entirely different, transformed by new materials, ways of holding your body, and distinctive methods of telling a story. And then, there’s the question of overlap: do you bring your favorite characters with you to the new medium or do you create new ones? Varela’s paintings featured a fascinating mix of creatures.

Una Aflicción (An affliction)

Bobas en Disputa (Arguing Fools)

The bobas (fools) are a new addition to Varela’s repertoire. Their pained, aggressive positions are terrifying. “The Affliction” is equally frightening. After looking at these paintings, I want to know more about these women. Varela’s ability to arouse the viewer’s curiosity is indicative of his skill as an artist and narrator.

Gusano 1 (Worm 1)

La congoja (The Anguished One), Gusano 2 (Worm 2),

Jóven yaciente (Young person lying down)

Varela brought the worms from his comics to canvas. In an open interview for Fierro magazine, a reader asked, “Why do you draw strange worms everywhere?” Varela responded, “You’ll get to meet these worms that I draw. They are the worms that are going to eat you when you die.”

(A brief aside: I sent the link to "Worm 1" to my sister Grace. She apparently hates worms, and the sight of one vomiting almost made her sick. A few minutes later, I forgot all about our conversation and sent her a comic with worms in it. I am probably the worst older sister ever.)

Sans Jorge (Without George)

Saint George Killing the Dragon (1430-5) by Bernat Martorell

“San Jorge” attracted my attention because I saw “Saint George Killing the Dragon” (1430-5) at the Art Institute of Chicago. The Martorell painting puts the small dragon in an inferior position at the bottom of the painting, focusing all the attention on Saint George in the middle. Varela’s rendition of this classic story, in contrast, shows only the dragon’s death, not the hero or his brave deed, thus the name "Without George." Depicting the gory and solitary death of the dragon causes the viewer to feel connected to the monster and reinvents the story by taking the underdog’s point of view.

Varela and Vior's paintings are exhibited in La Serpa, a gallery on Julián Alvarez 425. As you can probably guess from this post, I highly recommend going.

*Mariano Vior is an incredible artist. I did not write about him in this post, because I wanted to focus on Varela's paintings. But you should check out Vior's blog to see his paintings and drawings.

Pictures taken by Lucas Varela

A Very Fierro Week

Rocketbooks Comic Fair and the Parque Centenario

On Saturday I went to Rocketbooks, a monthly fair that features used comics imported from the United States. The tiny room was boiling hot, filled to the brim with fan boys and superhero comics. It was the closest thing to hell I have encountered yet on this earth. (Kidding! Argentine fan boys are much more interesting and attractive than their USA counterparts.) I recommend this place for Argentines that like superheroes and enjoy looking through boxes of comics. Even though I ended up buying some second run Fierro comics at a reasonable price, I probably won't go back. It isn't my scene.

Afterwards, I went with Guillermo (a classmate from Diego’s workshop) to the fairs at Parque Centenario and found...a whole new genre of comic. As a child, Tintin fascinated me. The plots, drawings, and characters helped form a love of comics that lasts until this day. So naturally, when I came across La Vida Sexual de Tintin, a porno comic featuring all the characters from the series paired off in interesting ways, I bought it. I haven’t read it yet, but I’m sure it’ll be traumatizing!

Fierro a Fierro

The University of Buenos Aires Social Sciences

On Monday, I went to an exhibition of pages and covers from the magazine Fierro, curated by Laura Vazquez, my adviser and teacher. The pages were not originals, but blown up, printed, and mounted. Usually, when I go to exhibitions, I get involved in a conversation within minutes of arriving and don’t get to actually see the artwork. Well, I got half way through the show when my friend Hernán saw me and invited me over to talk.

Remember that story about the six men in the cabin in Lobos? Apparently that story has become legend in the Argentine comics world. Anyway, most of those men were there and I got to hear them speak about their work during the show’s opening presentation. Diego Agrimbau, the moderator, asked the group of artists and writers if they had read the first run of Fierro and how they felt about publishing in the second run. As children or young adults, most of them had read the Fierro, but only a few dreamed of publishing their stories in the magazine. An interest in comics from a young age was a unifying factor. Facial hair was the other common bond. A word of advice to all the young men out there: if you want to publish in the Fierro, a beard/moustache/goatee is a must.

From left to right: Angel Mosquito, Max Aguirre, Federico Reggiani, Calvi, Dante Ginevra, Gustavo Sala, and Diego Agrimbau

Nos Tocó Hacer Reír

I’m going to go ahead and say it. "Nos Tocó Hacer Reír" is probably the best panoramic of Argentine comics that I will ever see in my lifetime. The exhibit was the perfect combination of history, politics, and culture that exists so fluidly in Argentina. Original work by contemporary and historical comics creators was divided into three themes: “Nunca Más,” “Fundaciones, Tierra, y Urbe,” and “Dónde Está Oesterheld?”.

The exhibit “Nunca Más” dealt with a number of political themes including poverty, exploitation, and the dictatorship. The constancy of these preoccupations is seen in their occurrence throughout all eras of Argentine history from the late 1800’s to the present day. However, the thing that most caught my attention was not the content of the work, but the curation. The drawings were grouped according to both political message (i.e. hunger) and image.

For example, this series had hunger/ inflation as a theme. The transition from hunger (left) to inflation (right) is achieved through grouping together characters with open mouths.

Grenet, Julio Málaga, "El pan se fue a los nubes," 1917; Cao, José María, untitled, 1911; Venturi, Franco, "En este país todavía se come," 1969; Palacio, Lino, "La inflación," 1971

This series, in contrast, is not bonded together by a common theme, but by airplanes.

“Fundaciones, Tierra, y Urbe” (“Foundation, Land, and Metropolis”) presented various images of Argentina’s interesting history and diverse territory. The groups were more intentional, with each section bearing the name of the sort of images it contained.

“Urbe” contains images of life in a big city. Although Argentina is a relatively large country, most of the citizens live in cities. Thus, urban life is very much ingrained in the mentality and culture of the Argentines. Some of the themes presented in this show were soccer, architecture, tango, and human interactions.

The middle of the room was filled by a timeline comics. I loved looking at how the different styles developed throughout the 200 years of Argentine history. The comics shown in the Peronist Era (see below) were mostly modern comics (Dora by Ignacio Minaverry), which makes me wonder if that is the period most often recreated by contemporary authors.

“Dónde Está Oesterheld?” was the mandatory tribute to Héctor Germán Oesterheld, the father of Argentine comics murdered during the military dictatorship. We read and talk a lot about his work in the “Artes Secuenciales” class, so it was nice to see pages from some of the comics we have been examining.

I wish I could tell you all to go to “Nos Tocó Hacer Reír,” but the exhibit was taken down at the end of April. It was shown in Frankfurt last year, so hopefully it will be presented in other corners of the world. Chicago, maybe? Fingers crossed!