White Layers
Collective Exhibition
Opening Night
Saturday, September 23rd, 2023
6 - 9 pm
Miami, Fl, August 24th, 2023 | Pan American Art Projects is pleased to announce White Layers, a collective exhibition curated by Claudia Taboada. The show will be on view from September 23rd to October 28th of 2023, with an opening reception on Saturday, September 23rd, from 6 to 9 pm.
White Layers pulls its inspiration from the short story “Las capas” by Eloy Costa, a young Cuban writer and winner of the Onelio Jorge Cardoso Latin American Short Story Award. The main character has an obsession with hiding the color of the wall causing layers of paint to consume the interior space to the point of being trapped, as the author says, “trapped, amongst the bright light, within the white bulk.” Layers, understood as a material and also as a procedure or action, have had specific functions at certain moments in the history of art. Paleolithic artists drew visual narratives on top of existing ones in caves and created so-called palimpsests of graphic information about daily life or events. Costa’s story goes way beyond the historical ideas of superimposition and layering, bringing them to an extreme. It is no longer just about an aesthetic or technical layering, but an emotional extreme, blurring the line between beauty and pain. In literature, “layering” suggests an author’s weaving of different elements to a story, often stemming from one element like a character, setting, or dialogue. This exhibition does something similar, pulling from Costa’s ideas as a foundation, and layering on top of that foundation to explore a visual narrative.
The artists, Ariamna Contino, Raúl Díaz, León Ferrari, José Manuel Fors, Reynier Leyva Novo, Elsa Mora, Ronald Morán, Carolina Sardi and José A. Toirac, explore different aspects reflected in Costa’s writing — the configuration of impossible spaces, and the exploration of shades of white — in paperwork, passe-partout, paintings, and mixed media.
The Layers
Translated by Dr. Ross Karlan
He had been hired to paint the walls white. It was a huge house, with stairs and several rooms. The man began his task with the patience of a sponge. Layer after layer, he covered the old green color, burying it like a fossil in a cave. By the sixth coat of white paint there was no evidence that the house had ever been any other color. It looked spotless, so white that some walls illuminated others. The white reflected into more white. Like having been admitted to eternal heaven.
However, the man continued painting everything, layer after layer. And so, the process became a notable event. The once huge house began to look small with so many layers of white paint. It had grown from the inside. The old bookshelf no longer fit into the niche where it once had its place. The spiders could no longer weave in the curved, white corners of the house. The furniture from before could never return to its place.
Years later, the interior of the enormous house was no larger than that of a small Turkish konak, carved into the stone of some mountain. The man continued painting the house white, one layer of paint after another, until he could no longer get out, and he was trapped, amongst the bright light, within the white mass.
- Eloy Costa
Las Capas
Versión original / Original version
Lo habían contratado para que pintara las paredes de blanco. Era una casa enorme, con escaleras y varios cuartos. El hombre comenzó su tarea con la paciencia de una esponja. Capa tras capa, fue tapando el antiguo color verde, enterrándolo como a un fósil en la piedra. Para la sexta capa de pintura blanca no quedaba evidencia alguna de que la casa en algún momento hubiere tenido otro color. Se le veía impoluta, tan blanca que unas paredes alumbraban a las otras. El blanco se reflejaba en más blanco. Como haber sido admitidos en el cielo eterno.
Sin embargo, el hombre siguió pintando todo, capa tras capa. Y así, comenzó a ser notable el suceso. La casa, que una vez fuera enorme, de tantas capas de pintura blanca comenzó a verse pequeña. Había crecido para sus adentros. El antiguo librero no cupo ya más nunca en el nicho donde antes tenía un lugar. Las arañas no podían tejer ya en las esquinas curvas y blancas de la casa. Los muebles de antes no podrían volver jamás a su sitio.
Años más tarde, el interior de la enorme casa no era más grande que el de una pequeña konak turca, esculpida en la piedra de alguna montaña. El hombre siguió pintando la casa de blanco, una capa de pintura tras otra, hasta que ya no pudo salir de ahí, y quedó atrapado, entre tanta luz, en aquel enorme bulto blanco.
- Eloy Costa
