October 13, 2012 |
7) Tteia 1, B (prata-lunar), 2000/12, Lygia Pape, shown by Galeria Graça Brandão
Lygia Pape’s art is an invitation to play, take part, experiment and imagine. When she died in 2004, at the age of 77, the Brazilian artist left behind her a body of work that jumps between form and medium with catching enthusiasm. To mention but a few of her works, the dizzying, kaleidoscopic geometries of her early woodcut prints are impossibly fine. Primary-coloured, little geometric sculptures marking the days of the year spilled from her hyperactive genius to coat gallery walls. Later, she would upsize the squares and circles as costumes for ballets that seemed to bring Mondrian’s paintings to life.
Many of Pape’s sculptures were designed to bring audiences together, like her giant white sheet, dotted with holes for people to poke their heads through. Freedom of expression was the bass note in these works, created under the military regime that held sway for over 20 years, until the mid-1980s, in Brazil. From the 1970s onwards, she concentrated on her Tteia, or web, series, one of which is seen here. These shimmering woven threads stretched between ceiling, walls and floor like solid shafts of illumination. Whether recalling heavenly visitations or dramatic stage spotlights, the effect is magical.
Galeria Graça Brandão
Lygia Pape, Tteia 1, B (prata-lunar), 2000/12
Photography: Paula Pape
Exhibition view at Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia 2011
Courtesy of Projeto Lygia Pape (Rio de Janeiro) and Galeria Graça Brandão (Lisboa)]
by Skye Sherwin
