Marcela Astorga

GC Arte, Buenos Aires

By Victoria Verlichak | October 18, 2012

Fronteras porosas, by Marcela Astorga (Mendoza, 1965), shows eight pieces which include sculptural objects and a pair of photographs, freezing moments of intriguing reading.

Marcela Astorga

The images reveal half-lit rooms with holes in the roof and walls, through which a seemingly diurnal light percolates. Poetical, they turn out to be testimonies of the terrible instants prior to the demolition of a house. This diffuse emotional quality, which emerges from those sudden perceptions of a future loss, is the guide for the viewer to accompany the artist in her search for deconstructing from that which exists, in her itinerary for reconstructing from that which has been devastated.

Astorga transmutes rough and soft materials, which bring their own stories along with them, in works that are worth stopping to watch. It is a trip that makes reference to many of her previous works, recovers vestiges and discovers secrets. There are sculptural volumes made with rubble wrapped in gauze, as if, when rocked by this delicate fabric, they might heal. Red fibers separated by a heavy weft are seen, mysteriously emerging from a loom like a rain of questionings rather than certainties. A flattened mattress, with remains of a shattered construction, seeks to hide its origin. An unexpected pipe emerges from the wall of the gallery and pours a spurt that is made of metal strings, but could well be one of water and life, like a cascade, a recurrent image in the artist’s trajectory.