Liliana Porter

These toys and figurines lie exposed to the fury of controlled elements, skid marks on the white asphalt of the canvas, a blue hurricane and bits of hay strewn about and trapped in a static composition by the artist. Porter seems to mock with wry and delicate humour the very substance of the human presence.

Other artists and fragments of pop culture are sampled and reduced to few distintictive marks. Mickey Mouse’s hand, a portrait of Matisse on a museum postcard, a picture of Brancusi’s famed egg sculpture all appear framed in kitsch domestic contexts, of ready-made nick-nacks that drain the artists of their fervor.

Porter institutes a clever and ironic game of translation. Memories surface crooked and cracked in these fragile installations, as if the real enemy were taste and affections and the dents they leave on how artists perceive the world.