Angora

ANGORA 

March 30-April 1, 2007

Caguas

Angora was designed to attract the masses during Circa Art Fair '07. It was also a promotional vehicle for the city of Caguas to claim its stronghold in the Puerto Rican art scene. Included in the exhibition were 28 young artists, mostly undergrads from the University of Puerto Rico and the Escuela de Artes Plásticas in Old San Juan, working collaboratively for 24 hours.

The abandoned industrial warehouse is property of Caguas-born collector José Castrodad. 

Omar Torres tired to keep visitors from entering or leaving the premisses by the allegorical drop of curtains (steel gates) of the warehouse. A looming prediction of the fall of the economy and the local art market in 2008. 

A swing with fluorescent lamps by Natalia Martinez was one of the highlights of the night.

Angora's innocence was like a mosquito lamp attracting all kinds of predators and pseudo dealers  looking for a quick fix. The black and white mural is by Cristopher Rivera. It reads: "You can believe in the best art and the worst art."
 

Visitors could easily get lost in the shady, motel -like maze of the site, stumbling occasionally upon dark rooms fitted with sound pieces, a bathroom full of balloons, and large scale installations. One of the best pieces in the show was an office painted in shades of gray and textured cement adhesive was by  Isabel Ramírez.

To view the work of Joe Torres visitors had to climb a makeshift cinder block staircase leading to an attic. At the top, viewers were provided with binoculars to peek at the work.

                                                                On the way up, a graffiti by Pseudo Mero

                                                                        the binoculars...

                                                          Who knows what this was
 
                                                 Joe Torres' mysterious place of worship.

         Interactive playground: Video projection , sound, deck, rope, and a bouncing platform.

       (Artist Patricia Alvarez (left), curator Erika Pastoriza, and local poet Jomi).

Michelle Fiedler, Director of Galería 356, multimedia artist Myritza Castillo, and artist Christopher Rivera. 

Cool painting of dead people, mutants, I -pods and record players by Gerardo Cloquell. It reminded me of the record cover for Killing Technology by Voivod.

Pattern, displacement, and recontextualization of the workspace in Patricia Alvarez' 3m scotch blue painters tape drawing.

                                                                     art everywhere

                                                        Omar Torres and Arnaldo Roman
 
                                                               Scenesters hard at work.

                                                                          Artist Natalia Martínez

                                     Painting by Sebastian Vallejo, and sculptures by Ramón Beltran.

     Cement sculptures with sticky stencil of Arab militia and plastic granades by Ramón Beltran

                                             Postal service installation by unidentified artist.

                                           Luis Navarro's interminable phone wiring.

                               José Navarro is the brother of cable guy, Luis Navarro.

                  Pillows for Rent by Karlo Ibarra is a raggedy homage to the bohemian lifestyle.

Norma Vila sculpture of ant mound, photographs, and feathered ceiling, seems to speak of the working class and governmental bureaucracy. 

                                                Norma Vila (photo courtesy of the artist)

                                             Interactive piece by Frances Gallardo.

The view from inside Frances Gallardo's installation (photo courtesy of Mariel Alvárez). Visitors were asked to write anonymous messages to be dropped inside the urn. A funny take on the Patriot Act.
 

                 Chunks of grass were placed inside common areas as a way to unify the exhibition.

                        Omar Torres' CV looms over visitors as the ultimate sign of identity. 

                Broken swing