Length x Width x Height
With Length x Width x Height, the 9.99 Gallery begins a review of the various manifestations that make up the current artistic landscape and proposes a group of artists who, in some way, have experiences that relate to and reveal many of the interests that prevail today in contemporary sculpture: The use of mixed media, everyday objects, materials found or discarded, the accumulation or repetition of elements, and the displacement of sculpture from a rigid format to an almost liquid, fluid one. We find sculptures that behave like three-dimensional paintings, contained sculptures vying for overflow, constructions that resist becoming objects—they want to be spatial drawings—and objects that forget their raison d’etre, adopting a new identity.
In ” Radiografía de Construcción No. 4” (X-Ray Construction No. 4,” 2014), Tepeu Choc reproduces on a smaller scale, the internal structures of a building. The thin iron bars covered in automotive paint stand in the space as a three-dimensional drawing; while simultaneously acting like a painting, it maintains an open dialogue with colorful Guatemalan textiles. Furthermore Diana de Solares uses iron and concrete, rescued from the roof of a demolished house, to build “Nube (Construcción aérea No.1)” (Cloud [Aerial Construction No.1], 2014) which, despite weighting almost 400 lbs. flows as handwriting in the air. Sharing this quality, “Anverso & Reverso” (Obverse & Reverse, 2014) by Darío Escobar takes an almost liquid property, virtually adopting the shape of the space that contains it, while turning into a work that can be reconfigured endlessly. The sculpture is built with soccer balls, accumulating repeatedly and leading to a completely new structure than the one it originated from; the accumulation of objects references supermarket displays.
Elsewhere in the exhibition, Alejandro Almanza Pereda presents the work “Horror Vacui” (2010-2014). Taking a traditional landscape painting, found in a second-hand store, he alters it by casting concrete on the painting’s surface—with this gesture Almanza Pereda moves the work’s pictorial qualities into the territory of sculpture. Also utilizing concrete, in “Manopla triple arco” (2013),” Carolina Caycedo presents a wall relief that combines the formal analogy of a C-shaped water dam with that of the kind of brass knuckles commonly used in the past by the Chilean government militia.
In contrast to rigid materials, Sandra Monterroso’s textiles of the kind worn by indigenous women as skirts, are stacked to form “Columna vertebral” (Spine, 2014). Likewise, she transitions from performance to sculpture when, mounted on a steamroller she crushes tin pots to display them as bas reliefs on the gallery wall in “La demoledora” (2010).
The sculptures of Diego Sagastume are not built in a workshop; instead, they constitute “encountered situations.” “Sin título (Carreta con naranjas)” (Untitled [Wheelbarrow with oranges] 2013) is the photographic record of an ephemeral sculpture that the author found in the street and captured with his Iphone (es correcto mencionar la marca? O se puede poner with the camera on his cell phone ?. Patrick Hamilton also uses photography to rework the architecture of Santiago, the Chilean capital, by disguising the fascist traits of its self-agrandizing monuments with textured paper that resemble granite or marble.
These sculptural gestures are fed every day by pushing the boundaries of traditional uses of materials, and although their operations are the same that have accompanied sculpture in recent decades such as cutting, pasting, assembling, and shaping—all reflect on who we are, what we consume, and what we throw away.