For most of us, the words ‘pop art’ conjure up graffitied images of Ché Guevara and enormous coke cans. Fundación PROA’s new exhibition of Argentine and Brazilian pop art bears all the familiar hallmarks of the movement but relocates the focus to the southern cone, where familiar bold fonts and cartoon images meet a carnal, visceral movement rooted in the wounds of dictatorship and repression.

This is a brutal yet beautiful exhibition, located deep in the heart of La Boca. Curated by Paulo Herkenhoff and Rodrigo Alonso it charts the links between Argentine and Brazilian pop art in the 1960s and showcases a movement which synthesises the political, social and cultural violence of the era as well as the roots of hope and revolution.

“Ideological clashes, military regimes, resistance struggles the dependence on foreign capitalism, urbanisation and the distinctive popular protestsi n these countries – this is the starting point for this fervent aesthetic and political study,” says Adriana Rosenburg, president of PROA.

“For the first time we are bringing together 59 artists from Brazil and Argentina and more than 150 works, photographs and documents from this movement.”

Western audiences have become increasingly inured to the stylised cartoon images and bold colours which define pop art and it’s easy to forget the political context behind the images which now adorn our aprons and sofa cushions.

For North American and British audiences in particular, for whom Lichenstein’s stylised spots reign supreme, the Coke cans and Ché Guevara images have lost their political and cultural reference points. Yet for Latin American audiences, these are powerful symbols of social and political change, and central to the pop art movement.

“South America produced two key symbols in these years, one local, in the form of Ché Guevara, who represents change, liberation and social revolution and another international, in the form of Coca-Cola which appears in general as a symbol of American imperialism and economic domination,” explains Rosenberg, in literature accompanying the exhibition.

The first room of the show is dedicated to these more familiar manifestations of the movement. It is filled with irreverent subversions of political and cultural imagery. The middle of the stylish room is consumed by a giant model plane suspended from the ceiling with a crucified Jesus attached to its wings. This piece, “La civilización occidental y cristiana” by León Ferrari, is flanked by a series of images of the Kennedys and a playful coke bottle installation.

However the second room introduces us to the darker, carnal themes of Argentine and Brazilian pop art. This work in this space is body-centred and deeply political, with references to torture, repression and social pain. Antonio Dias’ ‘Glutāo’ is typical, depicting a blood red figure with a set of abstract organs on display, brining to mind disturbing hints of physical pain and punishment.

The centre of the room features two disturbing sculptures, one resembling a giant misshapen sack and the other a garish knot of intestinal woollen tubes. The colours of the works here are less brash than the familiar cartoon style and have been created in a range of textures and mediums. As well as flat poster style pieces jammy canvases, thick with murky oil paints line the walls.

The third room continues this trend. Its walls are painted black and eerie noises drift from a video playing in the corner. This room features unsettling installations like Ivens Machado’s white tiled slab, plain apart from a light bulb in one corner and a bullet hole in the other with a dark trickle running from it. In another corner is a black veiled chair with spikes on the seat.

Violence – physical and political – lie close to the surface of these works and this movement in general. There are four rooms in total, displaying a wide range of styles and forms of pop art but all have been chosen to reflect these underlying themes and all display Argentine and Brazilian pop art at its politial best.

The exhibition has the added benefit of its PROA setting. An established art venue since 1996, the stylish building boasts panoramic views of La Boca’s industrial landscape and sprawling ports. The gallery is well known for its interesting take on contemporary Argentine art and also boasts an excellent library, bookshop and modern minimalist cafe with a roof terrace.

‘Pop…’ will remain at PROA until 16^th September when the exhibition will move to the Oscar Niemeyer museum in Curitiba. In 2013 the show will relocate to the Bergamo Gallery of Contemporary and Modern Art before ending up in the Museum of Modern Art in Rio de Janeiro.

Entrance to the exhibition costs $12, for more information go to http://www.proa.org/esp/ or call 4104.1000

 

It only takes walking along the streets of cities like Buenos Aires to notice the distinct features of Argentine architecture. Like the country itself, Argentina’s architectural heritage is the result of a wealth of international influences, with buildings across the city varying from imposing, Haussman-style apartment blocks to radically modern, conceptual designs.

Though the county’s older architecture owes itself to Spanish colonisation and the influx of European immigrants at the beginning of the 20th century, the international element of the country’s architecture has still not been lost. And with a continual input from overseas, architecture today has retained a unique sense of diversity.

With this same element of internationality at its centre, the ‘Argentine Architects in the World’ exhibition begins with an explanation of recent architecture. Aiming to show how Argentine architecture is not solely international in its influences, the exhibition explains how, due to the recurring difficult economic situations in the 20th century, architects in Argentina have been forced to find work elsewhere. When they returned, not only did they come back with a wealth of international influences, they had also injected Argentina’s architecture into different cities around the world.

Luis J. Grossman and Daniel O. Casoy are the curators of the exhibition which is now in its ninth year and is presently showing at the Centro Cultural Recoleta for the first time. Part of a larger organisation of the same name, the architects shown at ‘Argentine Architects in the World’ have each been chosen for their unique input into architecture and what results is arguably a collection of the most important names in the contemporary architectural world.

The exhibition is split into two parts, with one room dedicated to the collections of previous years. Photos and diagrams accompany profiles of architects, and although admittedly the commentaries can sometimes be overly proud in their tone, this part of the exhibition is, nonetheless, a fascinating run-through some of Argentina’s most important architectural names.

Walking around the room is like going on a tour with an expert guide. Familiar faces of buildings such as the Catholic University of Argentina and the MALBA gallery mean that, even if architecture isn’t your speciality, this exhibition never fails to be interesting and offers a unique insight into your surroundings in Buenos Aires. Looking at Argentine architecture in cities such as Miami, Munich and Madrid, ‘Argentine Architects in the World’ also offers a point of comparison between architecture in Argentina and the rest of the world.

This year’s version of the exhibition is, however, a cut above the efforts of past years. For the first time in the exhibition’s history, original drawings of the buildings and constructions we pass on a daily basis are on display in their very earliest stages. The inclusion of the drawings – perhaps the result of the exhibition being held in an art space for the first time – means the exhibition cannot simply be described as “architectural.” The drawings are practically art objects in their own right, exposing a sense of creativity unique to each architect. Among them are Eduardo Catalano’s highly detailed drawings of his masterpiece La Floralis Generica – the huge, mechanical, silver flower in Recoleta – offering a previously unseen element of one of the most recognisable architectural successes in Buenos Aires. Standing in contrast to more colourful pieces, or those with more mathematical calculations, this year’s collection betrays a unique sense of each architect’s personality.

Architecture may not be something you know a lot about. But even if it isn’t your thing, this exhibition is a great way to get to know the strengths of the Argentine architecture that surrounds us every day. This year’s more creative side, and the detailed insights into each architect mean that this year, architecture in Argentina just became a lot more accessible.

In 2012, at this advanced stage of globalisation, it can be difficult to comprehend just how revolutionary the birth of aviation must have been for those who achieved and witnessed the earliest flights.

Children who now grow up with toy Cessna planes and fighter jets, gleefully crashing remote controlled helicopters into kitchen cabinets, are a clear illustration of how flight has transformed our imagination and sense of possibility in the world.

The hundreds of thousands who board domestic and international flights each day, traversing the skies in their sleep, further serve as a testament to the gruelling engineers and aviation workers who toil to make this kind of world a reality.

It was in this thoughtful and playful spirit that the Argentine Association of Aeroplane Pilots (AAA) conceived the idea of ‘Fiesta en el Cielo’, a 700m² free exhibition at the Borges Cultural Centre in downtown Buenos Aires.

Sponsored and produced by the AAA, the organisation chose world-renowned Argentine pop artist Edgardo Gimenez to bring the party to the sky.

The exhibition space is, frankly, a very bizarre one. For starters, the Borges Cultural Centre is only a few stories high, but the walls of the exhibit are suspended in cloudy blue skies that distort your sense of altitude. It’s not impossible to detect the eccentric spirit of Jorge Luis Borges himself, tweaking out your proprioception in ways only he could.

Displayed throughout the exhibit are five jumbo toy aeroplanes constructed from moulds. Four of them are in bold, solid colour and the last, in the very back, is a white model with green and red emblazoned on its surfaces.

All along the walls, standing side by side in mid-air, are recurring life-size photographs of flight attendants dressed in uniform, smiling courteously and offering you refreshments, promotional magazines, safety instructions and the like.

A lot of comparisons come to mind in this space, particularly in the later hours when there are fewer patrons. It could easily be mistaken for either Willy Wonka’s private hangar, heaven as monitored by aircraft personnel, a scene in ‘The Matrix’, or ‘Toy Story’ heavily pumped up on juice. Without question, Gimenez has skilfully captured the oddly sterile cheer and beaming pop potency that stirs up tides of collective imagery.

If this were all, however, the exhibit would leave the visitor with a cloudy understanding of why it came together in the first place.

Ultimately, ‘Fiesta en el Cielo’ is worth the RSVP because, for those inspired to examine such things, it also packages a strong political and social message from the AAA without nose-diving into pure propaganda.

At the centre of the exhibition, a small theatre is set up for visitors to watch a brief documentary chronicling the major milestones of Argentine aviation. The video and exhibit pay tribute to the proud but contentious history of commercial aviation and labour struggle in Argentina.

Focusing primarily on state-owned companies like Aerolineas Argentinas and Austral, the documentary traces the industry’s growth in Argentina through its Peronist foundations, its austere restructuring in the years of dictatorship, the privatisations of the Menem years, and the re-nationalisation that took place in 2008 under the current president, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner.

Going the extra step, the AAA has also generously supplied the exhibit with free copies of its 161-page book ‘El cielo es nuestra’ (Heaven is Ours), in which the history of the aviation workers’ struggles and achievements is related in forceful narrative and first-hand testimonies.

The account, written in Spanish, is a refreshingly informative homage, expressed from the specific social angle of union leadership. It makes for a compelling case study of one of Argentina’s historically pioneering industries—from its crises to its triumphs and future aspirations.

In the ivy-swathed garden of the Oasis Clubhouse in Palermo Soho, a mixed crowd of Argentines and English-speaking expats gathered on a Saturday night last month for a relaxing evening of photography. Images were projected on a screen above the glowing green pool; soft yellow lamps and plush red armchairs were visible through the glass walls above; a bartender was kept busy serving out “signature cocktails”. The normally members-only social club had let in guests for the inauguration of the Open Show project in Buenos Aires. But it could have been London, or Dubai—luxury is a city of its own.

The dreamy, culturally ambiguous setting was a fitting one for Open Show, which has already launched in 18 cities in 12 countries and is set to have its second event in Buenos Aires this week. Thought up by San Francisco-based photographer Tim Wagner in 2008, Open Show aims at the give and take of artistic creation and viewer participation. The premise is so simple one wonders that something similar doesn’t exist already—choose five photographers, let each one present his work for ten minutes, throw the floor open to audience questions. It’s a format that shares blood ties with other “open” movements. After all, if music clips and scientific data can be made accessible to the public, why not the artistic process too?

First up to test out the idea at the November event was Nicolas Otaegui with his series ‘Bronson’s Cave’. Otaegui’s work features extreme close-ups set in a tattoo parlour, nearly all the images black and white. According to Otaegui, the shoot wasn’t planned; the photos were a result of casual day with friends. But the intense looks on the faces of the artists’ friends suggest their immersion in this world is anything but casual. His photos don’t give the viewer space to stand back or evaluate; one simply comes face to face (or face to tattooed arm, as it were) with the culture, whether one is used to seeing a bottle of tattoo ink at such intimate distance or not. In Los Angeles, Bronson’s Cave is known to directors as a go-to location backdrop: hundreds of westerns, B-movie horror flicks, and series like Twin Peaks have turned to its gloomy, craggy landscape for instant atmosphere. In Otaegui’s photos, needles and monochrome photography supply something of the same imagistic immediacy.

Sofia Mazo came next with her collection ‘Umbilical’. Mazo, a Colombian, plays with the idea of links, whether to family or city, and whether organic or transplanted. The black and white photos mostly feature eclectic scenes of Mazo’s adopted home: a Buenos Aires park, an armchair discarded in Microcentro. Though Mazo’s collection lacks the unified theme of the others (she’s a career publicist and “aficionado” of photography) they reflect her clear wonder at her new environment. The strongest few images feature an old photograph, tacked up to an ancient tree, of her mother as a young woman. The wood grain is wonderfully clear—the image an evocation of slow growth and continuity.

‘Fuerza Diablo!’ was the name of the next selection of photos, presented by porteño Eduardo Rivero. The most technically impressive of the bunch, they take up the Carnaval de Oruro, a major carnival in Bolivia second in scope only to Rio’s. The photos were clearly manipulated digitally to bring out the vibrant tones—but Rivero claimed the colours are just as ravishing in real life. Rivero included a number of formal portraits of subjects, whom he said were more comfortable posing in an official setting. But it’s the spontaneous images which most impress, the religious intensity of the Bolivians as they go about preparing lush masks and costumes taking on a frenetic incandescence. It seems a kind of bacchanalia—bright-jacketed musicians clashing cymbals, lines of girls posing in thigh-high white boots. In fact, explained Rivera, it’s just the opposite. Though alright (or expected) to be borracho on Sunday, at the Saturday festival you must dance with religious fervour to expel the devils and properly dedicate yourself to the virgin.

Brazilian photographer Thiago Pimentel followed, presenting his ‘Hazy City’. Pimentel’s stated ambition is for a “new movement” in photography beyond documentation, and for the creation of an imagined city “more perfect than reality”. In his case this means black and white images generously manipulated by computer—very dark, with heavy contrast and a quasi-Gothic aesthetic. The photos of bridges, buildings under clouds, and staircases spilling into patches of light started as photos of seven different cities, but have mutated unrecognizably beyond their real-life counterparts to take on the quality of dreams. Taken seriously, Pimentel’s aesthetic would have one thinking of each city not as an isolated singularity, but as a collection of details that can be infinitely recombined in an always-renewing city of the imagination.

In the final presentation, ‘Buenos Aires con Ojos Extranjeros’, Pablo Gardner presented his pictures of various foreigners in Buenos Aires—from Paraguay to Switzerland—who have settled in the city and now call it home. Each photograph depicting a subject going about life in his or her barrio, from construction workers determined to start a second career to self-described “exiles” of the world, is accompanied by a sentence in the subject’s own words. Perhaps for obvious reasons, the exhibit seemed to garner the most audience enthusiasm. At its heart lay a gimmick, certainly (and it was disappointing to learn that the pictures were posed)—but the classic pairing of image and text was also surprisingly thrilling. One can always start anew.

There was nothing specifically “Buenos Aires” about the first Buenos Aires Open Show. Indeed, it’s somewhat surprising that none of the presentations took on controversial subjects; none of the artists claimed political motivations. Though all of the photos played with the idea of an environment diverse or alien to the viewer, similar photos could have been displayed in any one of the project’s other international locales. Is that lack of social engagement something one should worry about? Perhaps not. For a little under two hours it can be nice to forget where you’re from and what you are, and live only in a world of photographs—a medium beyond the thorny terrain of language. On that congenial, wine-soaked evening, anyway, no one was game for much interrogation. (The audience questions, less lobbed than tossed very lightly, tended toward polite inquiries into artistic motive.)

This may change going forward, however. A recently released list of the five artists chosen for the second event suggests more site-specific works, exploring issues from the ecological effects of fishing in the Península Valdés to the aftermath of a recent volcanic eruption in Patagonia. According to founder Tim Wagner, Open Show launched faster in Buenos Aires than in any other city thus far; its organizers hope there will be many similar events to come, expanding into different media like short film. The tone at future gatherings is difficult to predict. But certainly, it will depend on at least three things—the location chosen, the kind of artists selected, and the decision by those artists of whether or not to leave politics at the door.

The former president and late husband of President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner will be remembered, and in 17,000 different ways.

The latest in a succession of tributes marking the one-year anniversary of Néstor Kirchner’s death, the presentation of thousands of documents gathered from the former president’s appearances at public events, currently on display in the Museo del Bicentenario, behind the Casa Rosada.

Positive, Peronist and mythical are three words that first come to mind.

A Whole Lot of Néstor

The recently opened museum is part of the historical structure of the Casa Rosada, which, forming part of the original Fort of Buenos Aires, dates back to the 18th century. “Because we have a history, we can build a future,” President Fernández declared as the doors of the Bicentenario were opened for the first time in May 2011.

Following a routine security check, you’ll instantly find yourself in Néstor-world, where banners, photos, letters and videos beam from the white walls of the Bicentenario. “The idea was to unite. Unite voices, feelings, testimonies. Unite moments shared with Néstor Kirchner,” the exhibition proclaims.

Produced by government deputy, Fernando ‘Chino’ Navarro, and publisher, Jorge ‘Topo’ Devoto, the overwhelming display claims to be an overspill of material that Tochineki (Topo-Chino-Néstor Kirchner) productions received whilst collecting material for a forthcoming film, and just had to display to the public.

Explicitly political, this exhibition is as much a reflection on Argentine history as Néstor himself, given his fundamental role in shaping politics in the last decade. There’s no hiding the idolisation of a deceased icon, nor the direct connections made between him and all of humanity.

Néstor kicks a football. Néstor laughs with workers in a factory. Néstor holds his hand out of a train for the poor to shake. Néstor cradles an adorable baby. Néstor hugs one of the Madres de Plaza de Mayo. Néstor hugs Cristina.

“Still images are central to myth-making,” Juan Travnik, photographic advisor for ‘Néstor for All’, and a director of the San Martín Theatre Photo Gallery, told daily newspaper, Clarín. “The myth is built based upon a political project.”

This vast collection of images, sound bites and video clips give a clear indication of what the Néstor film, due to be released in March next year, will be comprised of.

A Much-Missed Néstor

On the recent anniversary of his death, 27th October, widowed President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner escorted her late husband’s remains to an impressive mausoleum in his home town of Rio Gallegos, and several statues and sculptures were unveiled in his honour, whilst leaders and public figures around Latin America paid homage.

There is no doubt about the mark Néstor has left on Argentina, or about the legend that tribute exhibitions such as this one are helping to create.

“It’s important to remember Néstor because he was a great president,” exhibition guide, Damien Luna, explains. “After the 2001 crisis, he changed the whole country.” “Yes,” a passer-by interrupts in agreement. “Even looked at objectively, he changed the entire country.”

‘Gracias Néstor’ read the signs held by the public, photographed in mourning outside the Casa Rosada in 2010. Images of children, teenagers and the elderly holding flowers and hand-written messages round up the exhibition in an emotional finale; demonstrating what Néstor meant to the nation.

Though expectedly biased, a visit to ‘Néstor for All’ is informative, interesting and fundamental in understanding Argentine culture. It would be a shame to miss it.

The latest addition to the Faena Art District in Puerto Madero, the Faena Art Centre has opened with a blast. Brazil’s hottest contemporary visual artist, Ernesto Neto, has christened the space with a custom-made climbable sculpture, in response to his impressions of Buenos Aires.

Housed in what was previously the engine room of the ‘Molinos Rio de la Plata’ wheat mill, Faena Art Centre is the latest addition to the Faena Hotel and Universe. The building respects its past; maintaining the original large windows, arches and early 20th century architectural details.

The centre opened on the first day of spring, 21st September of this year. Amalia Botto, a representative of Faena Art Centre, tells us it had only been a matter of time until the vision for Faena Art Centre was realised. “The hotel opened six years ago, and there had always been plans to create something different in the area.”

“We want to plan new art proposals in Buenos Aires, to give people something different. Buenos Aires is a very arty city; there are a lot of art institutions, like MALBA for example, but the point of this space is to bring something original,” she says.

Although exhibitions are held in Faena’s hotel facilities, they are expensive and therefore not accessible to all. The Faena Art Centre is intended to be for everyone. “The idea is to bring everyone closer to art and bring families to art.” Combining the old with the new, their goal is to “provide a space for the most advanced expressions of contemporary art”.

In his first major exhibition in Argentina, Ernesto brings the vibrant colours of Rio de Janeiro to Buenos Aires’ port district.

The interactive sculpture plays with the height of the space, manipulating the walls to fit around it as though it were always supposed to be there. As brutal as it is beautiful, it’s one of a kind.

“I like to create a fantasy environment in a way, potentially a place you can breathe, find some minutes for yourself, be with yourself, even with others,” Ernesto says of his work. “I am trying to give time back to people, to create places where people can find solutions inside themselves.”

Made from an array of colourful rope, the bizarre creature winds around the space, filled with plastic balls as flooring and an occasional rock of cement hanging beneath it. The monster’s elevated paths lead you in to a maze of disorder, as the paths split in to two, sometimes three, and change directions for no obvious reason. The whole thing seems to be without purpose, but is fascinating nonetheless.

This inaugural exhibition, curated by Jessica Morgan of London’s Tate Modern museum, “promises to bring together Ernesto’s key interests within the striking space of an old mill, enlivening the space with sound, colour, spatial and sensory experiences, as well as the artist’s exquisitely beautiful forms”.

And it does just that. Laughter, chatter and screams reverberate from the walls as colour and dimensions envelope the spectators.

Children and adults alike enjoy the strange display. “This exhibition is for everyone,” Amalia says. The only ones excluded are really young children, as it can get a little dangerous with all the climbing.

It took several months to assemble the sculpture in a workshop in Rio de Janiero, which was later transported to Argentina.

Below the existing exhibition is a further 650m² of available space, and it’s yet to be decided what to fill it with. The proposals are presently top secret, as are the plans for the next exhibition. But considering the Faena Art Centre’s bold entrance into the art district, it will probably be nothing short of a surprise.

Attracting over 2000 visitors at weekends, the centre has been a huge success. So much so, that Ernesto’s exhibition will be extended from its previous November closing-date to some point in February. But it does get busy, so for less of a squeeze, plan to visit midweek.

Last Thursday I enjoyed the sweet smell of foliage in a plaza, crossed a river, walked along a street in the neighbourhood of Once, took a boat ride, and ordered a coffee—all in complete darkness.

I was in ‘Diálogo en la oscuridad‘ an exhibition spanning more than 6,000 square feet of the Ciudad Cultural Konex, in which small groups are led through different scenes and examine the sounds, textures and aromas of every day life – all without the use of their eyes.

Argentina is the latest stop of “Dialogue in the Dark”, the English name of the exhibition that has travelled to more than 110 cities around the world since 1988. The idea was dreamed up in Germany by Andreas Heinecke, who wanted to increase awareness of visual handicaps by creating an environment that provokes strong emotions and inspires a transformation.

And a transformation it was. Upon arrival, we were given white walking sticks, and led through a passageway into the pitch black. We exchanged our site for a blind guide, who helped us make sense of the worlds we entered with his voice and instructions. He was a calming leader who instantly learned our names and could distinguish us from one another by sound and touch. I found out later had been one of 20 chosen from hundreds of blind people that applied for the position. He walked expertly through the different scenes, and we shuffled along, clung to one another, vigorously tapped our sticks, and held out our hands in the direction of his voice.

After a few minutes of fear and dizziness, my imagination kicked in as if I were in the middle of a great novel. The scenery gained colour, perspective and shape, but that didn’t stop me from bumping into objects, touching my fellow visitors awkwardly, and developing an almost familial bond with our guide’s voice and presence. He was my only ticket to surviving (and escaping) this invisible world.

As the name of the exhibition suggests, there is actually a dialogue in the dark. At the end of the tour we fumbled around to find a seat on couches and began to discuss the experience with our guide. It was one of those rare opportunities when you can be honest, and endlessly curious, among total strangers.

Bruno Lehmann, a producer of the exhibition, explains that the experience “strengthens our other senses and, from there, helps us become conscious of values like fairness, equality, and antidiscrimination.”

When we came back into the light we “met” our guide, and I couldn’t believe my eyes: he was nothing like what I had imagined. He looked young, petit, and … well, blind. I suddenly realised that the previous hour I had been getting to know the real him, on his turf.

This sighted encounter did nothing to strengthen that relationship because he was not taking part in the illumination we received. In the dark, he was the one who could “see” and in the light our roles were uncomfortably reversed.

Dialogue in the Dark offers us an opportunity to better understand the immense privilege of sight, and the immense skill of those who navigate the world without it.

The idea of making clothes out of rubbish perhaps conjures up mental images of children constructing capes from black bin liners, helmets from egg boxes and swords from tin foil. On closer inspection, however, it seems recycled fashion could be more than just child’s play. The cleverly-named Avantgarb{age}, a new photography exhibition by Caitlin Margaret Kelly, shows how ordinary household waste can be turned into items of fashion and objects of art.

Kelly, 38, comes from Boulder, Colorado and has a degree in Photojournalism. She originally booked to come to Argentina in 2006 to run the Buenos Aires marathon. Unfortunately, the race was cancelled and so she was left with ten days for sightseeing. Though she spoke no Spanish at the time, Kelly found a desire to make the city her home and did just that, moving here a little over three years ago. She works as a freelance photographer for diverse publications in addition to her own projects, past examples of which include series of images from a soup kitchen and of Buenos Aires by night.

Before Avantgarb{age}, Kelly had photographed BA Fashion Week, which she found “interesting and creative but a little pretentious.” She was then introduced to a style of fashion which was less glamour and more grunge when she met Argentine clothes designer Aidana Baldassarre, who aims to show the importance of resource conservation by transforming rubbish into wearable pieces of art. Baldassarre would save milk bags and bottles at home and find discarded fabric or bicycle inner tubes in the street. With the help of scissors and stitches, milk bags became trousers, ties were transformed into dresses, and tyres morphed into hats and skirts.

A collaboration with Baldassarre seemed a good idea. “Her work had a rawness to it which allowed me to see the material as it had been,” explains Kelly. “It wasn’t a case of ‘let’s make recycling cool and polished’ but rather about connecting with the materials. She takes garbage items and asks, “what if?” before giving them a new lease of life.” With the clothes already made, Kelly selected pieces from the collection to suit her models, whom she refers to as “non-models” as they are ‘real’ people, acquaintances and friends. The reasons behind this choice were twofold: to connect her art to the everyday and to promote healthy, normal body types.

Models were then photographed in two urban locations – a balcony in Once and a brick-walled art gallery in Belgrano. Kelly arranged the lighting with the end product in mind; for example, harsh lighting to accentuate the rubber. In a departure from Photojournalistic protocol, she also played around with the saturation. The resulting images are diverse and memorable. One photo is a striking profile of a man wearing a purple rubber hat, looking almost regal; another is a twirling girl, encircled by a skirt made of recycled fabric. The accompanying description explains: “As the model dances across the floor, the softness of the materials catching air, the photo represents an antithesis to the idea of garbage as gross, ugly, or something to be avoided.”

Avantgarb{age} was published mid-way though last year as a hardback book, which is currently undergoing a redesign to make it larger and available on recycled paper. A proportion of all sales goes to Cimientos, a charitable foundation for equal educational opportunities, whose initiatives include grants to help children buy school supplies.

Favourite images from the book have been selected for the exhibition, each accompanied by a description in English and Spanish of the materials from which the photographed clothing item is made. In keeping with the theme of reusing rubbish, the exhibition flyers and explanatory notes are printed on reused paper. All photographs displayed will be for sale.

To help meet the costs of the putting on the exhibition such as printing and framing, Kelly set a fundraising target on the website Kickstarter, which bills itself as “a way to fund and follow creativity.” People can pledge money for projects proposed. “You have to have a tangible end goal and you either raise the full amount or get nothing,” explains Kelly. Donors were rewarded with incentives such as sets of cards and prints from the show. The initiative paid off and the target was achieved. The exhibition opens its doors this week.

Amid the multitude of unique art galleries in Buenos Aires, The British Arts Centre is hosting artist Simon Boyd’s latest exhibit, ‘The Jousters’ Banquet’. A pastel-coloured trip down the winding stairs of the gallery exposes a world of knights, fighting roosters, and what perceptions a move from the UK to Argentina can produce.

Educated in painting and video at London’s Middlesex University, Boyd says his move to Argentina changed his art dramatically. “When I first arrived in 2007, my work was exploring ideas of consumption, the seduction of images largely symbolised through sweets.”

This “early” work by Boyd can be seen on the lower level of the gallery, with the most recent work greeting viewers as they enter the somewhat uncomfortable gallery. All of the work is, indeed, colourful, which can prompt the viewer to pass from one work to the next too quickly. Downstairs, bright pinks and purples surround a floral cut-out shape where a scene of geometric and human shapes commands the viewer sneak fearfully close to touching the painting in order get a look at what exactly is happening.

‘Uprising’ is a mess of colour with, at first, the only distinguishable character being the head of a buck. The confusion of shapes in the pastel colours draws the viewer to sidle up to the painting to make sense of what appears from a distance to be chaos. For this very standard reaction, the viewer is rewarded with the appearance of not only deer, but soldiers turned on their heads, human faces, and a mass of details unnoticed from a distance.

Boyd says his latest fascination with knights is “a throwback to my imagination as a child” and going to museums with his mother to see the work of Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood painters like John Everett Millais and John William Waterhouse.

“As I began to identify increasingly more with the Pre-Raphaelites while living in Argentina, I began to understand more comprehensively my identity as a British painter. I am pursuing in my paintings the same archaic, romantic and moralistic ideals that motivated these Victorian painters. A similar nostalgic yearning for the past, a past that one was never acquainted with but which has been construed through hearsay and fables. This nostalgia of the past, the romance and glamour of knights, as baseless as it seems, offers a good counterbalance to today’s issues; a sort of escapism if you like from today’s ‘brave new world’.”

Boyd, born and raised in London and educated in painting and video from Middlesex University, has lived in Argentina since 2007. He resides in Toay, La Pampa, with his wife and two children. His work will be on display in the British Arts Centre, Suipacha 1333 until 27th November. More information at www.britishartscentre.org.ar.

From the sizzling flourescent light saber clashes to the metallic wheezing of Darth Vader’s grated breath what’s not to love about ‘Star Wars’? For those whose life would not have been complete without ever hearing Chewbacca’s moans, or for those whose prepubescent fantasies revolved around Princess Leia like a certain Argentina Independent journalist, look no further than Centro Cultural Recoleta! Throughout August fans can relive the epic narrative in all of its intergalactic splendor by visiting Star Wars: The Exhibition.

The largest of its kind in the world, the exhibit showcases over 250 pieces used to make the phenomenal saga. Organised into nine spaces surrounding a centre with each space representing a planet featured in either A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones or Revenge of the Sith, the display has been arranged to give all those who enter a truly unique experience.

After pushing through the entrance flaps, the blue light from the end of a white walled concourse beckons you forward. Going towards the light proves to be a good thing, as you begin to tour each of the nine planets and their widely recognised characters as well as the actual spaceships used in the movie. R2D2 peers out from his pod, C3PO’s brass body strikes a pose, and the “Jedi Starfighter,” looks ready to blast off. Further on the Ewoks live on in their natural habitat, the forest moon of Endor.

The original drawings of the characters and of some movie scenes give the viewer a glimpse into the creative minds behind the constructed galaxy. Finally, far into the planetary maze an intense red room is illuminated to show the face (or rather, mask) of evil itself, Darth Vader.

It’s amazing to see how detailed the costumes are, as well to wonder how the actors ever moved in them since most look to be made of extremely thick materials and armor-like chest plates. Whatever the pieces’ weights, those running the show have managed to move them from such far far away cities such as New York, Tokyo, London, Paris, and Madrid.

Should you have a desire not just to see the objects from the film but to take them home, miniatures are available at the gift shop along with illustration books and light sabers as well.

Centro Cultural Recoleta is located at Junín 1930. To find out more about the exhibition check out www.starwarsargentina.com.ar.