Ações Ibéricas
Madrid: one of the important cities in my imagination and lived experiences. Even today, I still draw upon the memories and experiences that nourished my spirit. It all started with a brief visit in the 1990s that forever imprinted the image of a detail from a Velázquez painting. It was just a fragment of the character’s attire, I don’t even remember which one, but I always said: I need to return to Spain to see Velázquez! For almost ten years, that wasn’t possible.
Starting in the early 2000s, opportunities began to arise more frequently. There were several trips, some longer than others, during which I not only revisited Velázquez but also Goya, Picasso, and the entire spectrum of Spanish painting at its peak. Additionally, there were numerous fantastic collections, gathered over centuries and spread throughout the country, which complemented that initial impression and permanently shaped my perspective. But above all, it was the walks through the city, discovering its corners, its people, its culture, and feeling, in some way, like a part of that scene.
Every time I returned home, I left behind a mark and the desire to rediscover it the next time I returned. And thus, the ações ibéricas (iberian actions) were born. Los enterramientos was the first. A sort of long-duration happening. Over four months of walking through the city, I gathered small objects I found on the sidewalks, things that had been discarded or lost and that evoked either a sense of strangeness or enchantment when I looked at them. These objects were stored in plastic bags with hermetic seals, classified, and finally buried in places within the city that held some personal significance for me.
A group of friends accompanied me on the final walk, where I buried each object, and the documentation—photographs and small videos—was done by them. I recorded each burial in a notebook with specific instructions on how to rediscover them when I returned to the city. No hay salida concluded the series of four actions, carried out between 2007 and 2016. I gathered fragments of the photographs I took daily and assembled four mosaics, which were reproduced in photocopies and discreetly distributed in the places I frequented: shop counters, museums, bars and restaurants, cinemas, and public squares. Along with the images, the phrase: no hay salida... tengo que volver.
Lygia Arcuri Eluf
