The Arts in New York City
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"Caribbean Art Objects"
The first object I chose during my visit to El Museo Del Barrio was Leopoldo Maler’s Witness to Silence (Testigo al silencio). The artist is from Argentina and the object was made in the year 1990. At a first glance, Witness to Silence captures one’s attention by its sheer size. It is a large (nearly reaching up to one’s knees) silver human head made of cast steel and located on the exhibit floor. Its gender is unknown, but it appears to be a man’s head because of the sharp features of the nose and thick eyebrows. The head is tilted at a 45-degree angle. There is no detail in the eyes, leaving the observer unable to determine a facial expression or any emotion. The most striking characteristic of Witness to Silence is a set of glowing neon bars around the lips, similar to the mouth bars in Hannibal Lecter’s restraint mask. However, they are directly connected to the area above and below the lips, caging them behind bars.
Witness to Silence first captured my attention because of its position. Unlike other exhibits, which were hanging on the walls or at least at level with the viewer, Witness to Silence was placed directly on the floor. The head’s tilt made it seem like it was staring straight at the viewer, which I thought was a clever method of connecting the viewer to the art piece. What I found most compelling about Witness to Silence was its powerful symbolism—there was a lot more to the object than just the object itself. For me, it symbolized the oppression of a totalitarian government, which was particularly depicted in the neon bars surrounding the lips. I thought the caged lips implied the suppression of speech that was considered inconvenient or illicit. Witness to Silence told a story of severe penalty (in this case, the impalement of bars around one’s lips) for those who voiced their opinions or refused to comply with the control of a regime. It seemed as though the artist was stressing how immoral this method of torture and punishment was, especially because the bars stood out as they glowed neon. Witness to Silence stood out to me because it was created to make a stand on a certain topic, rather than appear beautiful. I liked it because it wasn’t just a simple piece of decoration meant to attract viewers—it told the story of a significant and controversial point in human history.
Salvador Riso, born and died in Columbia from 1768-1816, painted Abbot Antonio Jose de Cavanilles in 1801. This piece is an oil on canvas. This painting is of an actual person. Abbot Antonio Jose de Cavanilles was a botanical taxonomist in the 1800s. This piece is a side profile of the abbot looking off into the distance. With his right hand he was holding a pen and taking notes. With his left hand he was pointing to a diagram of a plant labeled Rizoa. The abbot was wearing all black and was in a rather dark room.
What caught my attention was the word Rizoa that was in the painting. As I was walking through the gallery, I saw it from the corner of my eye. Interestingly, the word Rizoa was one of the terms that I learned from my biology lecture a few days prior to my visit. Rizoa is a genus of plants in the taxonomic system. It was rather interesting to know that contributions to taxonomy also came from the Carribean. Normally, in class we simply learn about Carl Linnaeus and other European taxonomists. Abbot Antonio Jose de Cavanilles named Rizoa after his portraitist, Salvador Riso. This was considered a high honor. Salvador Riso was an artist for the Royal Botanical Expedition for the kingdom of Granada, a colonial territory consisting of modern day Columbia and parts of Venezuela. Salvador Riso was instructed to make a portrait of Abbot Antonio in honor of his many achievements in naming countless plants. Abbot Antonio contributed greatly to the understanding of flora in the West Indies and Latin America.
Espada, done by Rolando Lopez Dirube in Cuba in 1976, is a teak wood plank stuck inside a marble base. Rolando Lopez Dirube was born in Cuba in 1928 and died in Puerto Rico in 1997. At first glance Espada looks like a giant disproportional popsicle. The long auburn teakwook plank extending farther in length than the perfectly cut rectangular marble base. The entire piece measured about five and a half feet from top to bottom. The marble base was perfectly cut from Dark Emperador marble which gave it a light brown and white randomly stripped pattern. The teakwood plank curved ever so slightly to the left and was a dark auburn color.
While walking in the exhibit, Espada caught my eye because it was the only exhibit in the room that wasn’t a painting. Upon closer inspection I found out that Espada means sword in Spanish. Immediately, I thought of the story of the sword in the stone, ironically which is what this exhibit was supposed to be. I wondered if this piece symbolized a distress call for a hero that would pull Cuba out of its troubles. In the story, the sword could only be pulled out of the stone buy the true king and quell the wars that would ensue if no heir to the throne was found. In reality it could mean that if something was not done, violence could break out in Cuba. After doing some research I discovered that in 1976, Cuba ratified it’s socialist constitution marking a historic change in government.
You will write a research-based discussion of two “Caribbean Art Objects” on display at the Caribbean: Crossroads of the World exhibits, posted online.
More information about this assignment will be given in class and posted to the course website. Because of restricted museum hours, exhibition dates, and class-time conflicts, museum visits (to the New-York Historical Society, and the different museums of the Caribbean: Crossroads of the World exhibit) and the trip to the High Line will need to be arranged independently. Members of the class must arrange to make their trip(s) with at least two other members of the class. More details about the museum and High Line site visits will be discussed in class and posted to the course website.
