Los blabladores
Solo show by Los Picoletos
Los blabladores
Solo show by Los Picoletos
29 June - 28 July 2023
Credits
Raquel Sías & Los Picoletos
Elena Feduchi
Fabro and Dante invite us to enter a series of prisons that are product of a shared imaginary, where the spectator, active from the very first moment —and led by the uncertainty of the unexpected— recognises itself in those spaces where faces jump, escape, and appear hanged, all in unison.
In an almost performative way, gesture continues to be an important part of the process as in previous works; the result is conditioned by the randomness preceding the chaos, both when working and in the combination of sketches and disparate ideas where the fortuitousness of the selection is transferred to the canvas. This way of development connects them with their younger self, with the love of comics that has accompanied them since they were kids; in it, the coexistence of cartoons make up the joke, the more disparate their combination, the better the result. The only condition seemingly mandatory in this recipe to make a piece is to have fun in the process.
Drawing is the more defining gesture in them and this is the first time drawing and painting prevail. In previous shows, other media such as photography, installations, video and performance have had a greater presence. The comic is the language building this entire exhibition, becoming an object in which humor is key to its reading, in counterpoint with bizarre cinema, the work of David Lynch and other ever-present remnants of the underground.
This confluence of characters where shadows barely appear, from the tombs of Buster Keaton or Batato Barea —who, defining himself as a "literary transvestite clown" was a key figure of the Buenos Aires underground in the 80s— is what makes us want to go through the bars (that are not completely impenetrable and are interposed between the drawings) in order to be part of the riot: do you want to see what is happening? Then you will have to move, to the side, up, down... and if you have a beer or a dagger in your hand, even better.
In the end, what prevails is the joke of creating an image to at the same time, cover it up. A punk delicacy that tries to escape the solemnity imposed on contemporary art, but also alluding to the absurdity in which we are trapped with the thousands of images we consume on our devices from the moment we wake up until staying up all night.
Incarcerated were many characters who have left a mark on this duo of artists (like a young Hunter Thompson for stealing liquor) but this is not a tribute to no one. The work is the translation of a graphic world that brought them together the first time they collaborated; these are afterthoughts that may or may not be connected. An iconography of all the characters they carry from childhood, heroes and martyrs drinking beer together with their everyday mates and their problems at seven in the evening. As in "Kiss of the Spider Woman", behind bars are also Valentín and Molina telling each other movie stories to kill time while Los Picoletos, like any other day walking through their prisons, stop and listen.
In an almost performative way, gesture continues to be an important part of the process as in previous works; the result is conditioned by the randomness preceding the chaos, both when working and in the combination of sketches and disparate ideas where the fortuitousness of the selection is transferred to the canvas. This way of development connects them with their younger self, with the love of comics that has accompanied them since they were kids; in it, the coexistence of cartoons make up the joke, the more disparate their combination, the better the result. The only condition seemingly mandatory in this recipe to make a piece is to have fun in the process.
Drawing is the more defining gesture in them and this is the first time drawing and painting prevail. In previous shows, other media such as photography, installations, video and performance have had a greater presence. The comic is the language building this entire exhibition, becoming an object in which humor is key to its reading, in counterpoint with bizarre cinema, the work of David Lynch and other ever-present remnants of the underground.
This confluence of characters where shadows barely appear, from the tombs of Buster Keaton or Batato Barea —who, defining himself as a "literary transvestite clown" was a key figure of the Buenos Aires underground in the 80s— is what makes us want to go through the bars (that are not completely impenetrable and are interposed between the drawings) in order to be part of the riot: do you want to see what is happening? Then you will have to move, to the side, up, down... and if you have a beer or a dagger in your hand, even better.
In the end, what prevails is the joke of creating an image to at the same time, cover it up. A punk delicacy that tries to escape the solemnity imposed on contemporary art, but also alluding to the absurdity in which we are trapped with the thousands of images we consume on our devices from the moment we wake up until staying up all night.
Incarcerated were many characters who have left a mark on this duo of artists (like a young Hunter Thompson for stealing liquor) but this is not a tribute to no one. The work is the translation of a graphic world that brought them together the first time they collaborated; these are afterthoughts that may or may not be connected. An iconography of all the characters they carry from childhood, heroes and martyrs drinking beer together with their everyday mates and their problems at seven in the evening. As in "Kiss of the Spider Woman", behind bars are also Valentín and Molina telling each other movie stories to kill time while Los Picoletos, like any other day walking through their prisons, stop and listen.