TXT

This third week of November, the macabre news was published in the press that a French luxury clothing designer has not only copied the patterns traditionally used in the fabrics of the surviving communities of Oaxaca, Mexico, but has also patented them in her name. .

If this were true, it would imply that every time an indigenous person wants to make their traditional garment, they must pay the designer’s brand a right that legally allows them to use knowledge that has always belonged to them and that has been granted to them by their own gods.

Starting from this possible prank*, which evidences the scope of post-colonial violence, TXT proposes to observe the possible tensions between the production of contemporary art and the textile tradition, without neglecting the socio-political implications surrounding issues such as the use of the body and clothing.

Through the works that make up this exhibition** we seek to examine different aspects of the aforementioned tensions. For example, the work of Aurora Pellizzi, a Mexican artist who has dedicated herself to researching the tradition of weaving in Mesoamerica and Morocco, explores, on the one hand, the semiotic relationship between text and textiles and, on the other, the use of woven materials as felt in the construction of a conceptual tradition in art. The TXT piece gives its name to this sample precisely because it highlights the close relationship between the way language is manifested and the shape of the fabric.

The city could be understood as a great fabric in which the notions of verticality and horizontality generate a geography in coordinates that allows it to be easily explored and inhabited. In the field of the symbolic, it can also be perceived as a great loom in which multiple layers of knowledge, insights and needs shape the identity of the city. Pia Camil’s work Tunic for Women is based on the observation of an aesthetic phenomenon in Mexico City where the large-format advertisements that crown the buildings are called spectacular.

There is a wide discussion about the character of textile art, even doubts if it is really an art, or if it belongs rather to the sphere of crafts. This is a very interesting discussion because it questions historical presuppositions such as the idea of a high art, or questions the participation of manual labor in the construction of the idea of culture. The work of Edgar Orlaineta fuels this discussion with the work El illustrator que revolves around a shirt made with painting rags from his studio onto which Lusting’s pattern is stamped. For Orlaineta, this piece, made up of several elements, functions as a tribute to those who use tools (as extensions of their body) and uniforms in their work, and at the same time exalts the disciplines that debate between the limits of what can, or no, be art such as design, drawing, architecture, illustration or ceramics.

According to Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui, a Bolivian philosopher, patriarchal colonialism has prioritized intellectual production and thus has founded a system of hierarchies in which manual work, traditionally carried out by women, has been relegated****.

Mujeres en Mi by Carolina Caycedo is a piece that functions as a ritual in which the artist invokes and honors the female presence in her life. The piece is a collage of clothes worn by her friends in which the names of the artists who have most influenced her work are embroidered. In Caycedo’s work, weaving in relation to gender is very important because through this work a space of power is generated in which women manage to exchange knowledge and communicate their knowledge to new generations.

It is impossible to talk about art and textiles in Colombia without mentioning the work of Claudia Hakim and Luz Angela Lizarazo who have managed to generate a successful synergy between a conceptual discourse and weaving. In the case of Hakim, his interest is to replace the traditional fibers of the work, with recycled materials from the automotive industry, taking advantage of the geometries and textures that they form. For Lizarazo, manual work is related to the feminine and through embroidery she explores different nuances of the erotic, the biological and the sexual. The networks in Luz Angela’s work generate a special tension as they point towards a less positive power of the fabric.

Bubú Negrón and Alejandro Garcia/Josée Pedneault explore traditional customs that revolve around dress. Negrón appropriates the folklore of Puerto Rico where coconut masks are made that show their link with Africa. The masks are used in carnivals to characterize the Vegigantes, fantastic characters that ward off evil spirits with their horns. The series of photographs by the García/Pedneault couple exalts the power of disguise in the celebrations of northern Mexico, where the characters are created from recycled elements of everyday use.

Laura Laurens’ drawings are born from her need to understand the body and its relationship with clothes. According to the artist/designer: “We cover and uncover ourselves every day. It is a daily action that we sometimes overlook. As a fashion designer I am interested in highlighting, pointing out this gesture through another gesture: drawing. When we draw we also cover the paper, that other body». *This mess has not yet been fully proven, because on her Facebook page the designer has denied the accusations, however, a lot of ink has been spilled on the matter. Here are some links that can better illustrate the conflict. My opinion? When the river sounds… stones it carries