Why Latin American Surrealism is surging in a down art market
In 1956 the painter Diego Rivera stated that three of the world's most important female artists lived in Mexico. (His wife, Frida Kahlo, had just died.) He was talking about European émigrée Surrealists: Remedios Varo of Spain, Leonora Carrington of England and Alice Rahon of France.
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Economist
5 days ago
- Economist
Why Latin American Surrealism is surging in a down art market
In 1956 the painter Diego Rivera stated that three of the world's most important female artists lived in Mexico. (His wife, Frida Kahlo, had just died.) He was talking about European émigrée Surrealists: Remedios Varo of Spain, Leonora Carrington of England and Alice Rahon of France.
Telegraph
15-05-2025
- Telegraph
Seeing Each Other: Portraits of Artists: A victim of its own noble ambition
Seeing Each Other: Portraits of Artists at the progressive Pallant House Gallery aims to celebrate the relationships between artists and the artistic representation of these relationships. A simple enough concept, one would have thought. I was excited for my visit down to Chichester, enticed by the promise of many and various works – there are more than 130 works on show, including paintings by British establishment icons such as Lucian Freud, Cedric Morris, David Hockney, Paula Rego and Celia Paul. The exhibition opens with flair. Viewers are greeted by a selection of colourful figures from Lubaina Himid's 1994 installation Vernet's Studio, set against a bright lemon-yellow wall. These life-size, painted wooden cut-outs of formidable female artists from times gone by were initially exhibited as part of a 26-piece show where viewers were invited to walk among the carnival of characters and see how many they could name. Mexican surrealist Frida Kahlo, sternly gazing out beneath her bushy brow, is the most instantly recognisable of the menagerie. English op art painter Bridget Riley is more subtly represented by a contoured abstract form emblazoned with her characteristic stripes. Each of the figures in this delightful yet dysfunctional ensemble are based, in terms of pose and composition, on figures from Horace Vernet's painting The Studio (1820-1), and so Seeing Each Other opens with a neat double entendre. British artist Lubaina Himid has not only created entertaining and interrogative portraits of female artists, but she has also modelled these cut-outs on a 19th-century artist's depiction of his own studio. But dexterity and wit quickly dissipate as you enter the first room of the exhibition entitled: Artistic Bohemia, where the likes of Roger Fry, Nina Hamnett and Augustus John are both maker and muse in various works depicting the circles of London's art schools in the early 20th century. The most telling portrayal is a painting by John Currie, depicting himself and his fellow Slade students, alongside the proprietor of their favourite Soho hangout, the Petit Savoyard. Currie's Some Later Primitives and Madame Tisceron (1912) shows his cohort through the highly stylised lens of an early Renaissance fresco: one can imagine the chirrupings of mutual sycophancy that went on into the small hours at that café. But poor old Currie was no Piero della Francesca. It was in the room entitled 'Intimate Relationships' that my ability to digest the connections between the artists, sitters and styles began to flounder. Curatorship is not only about telling a story, but also about making sure that the works being used to tell that story are aesthetically cohesive and visually harmonious. Just because two people loved each other, and created art works of each other, it doesn't mean that those two works should hang next to each other on an exhibition wall. And when there are over five or six such groupings in a room, the mixture of works on show begins to feel akin to the chaos of the Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy. I looked around at the cacophonous hodgepodge of works on the walls and felt as though I had been abandoned at a party full of strangers, only I didn't have a drink, and everyone at the party was inanimate. The concept of this Pallant House exhibition reads very well on paper: a chance to be immersed in the great relationships between some of the brightest (and lesser known) stars of the British art establishment of the past century. However, the multitudinous diversity of works on display leaves the viewer dizzy – fewer, more impactful displays might have been better. For example, an intimate nook late in the exhibition, dedicated to the School of London, juxtaposes portraits of Lucian Freud asleep by Celia Paul, and Paul by Freud – it is one of the most vulnerable juxtapositions in the show. In these moments, the brilliance of the exhibition's curatorial vision is fully apparent. But Seeing Each Other is a victim of its own ambitious intentions. All in all, the show is, at best, good in parts.
Time Out
01-05-2025
- Time Out
A longtime Mexican folk art store in NYC is in danger of closing—here's how you can help
Within a predominantly Ukrainian neighborhood in the East Village, a corner of Mexico exists. Inside a petite footprint on Third Street, Mexican folk art store La Sirena is packed with hand-crafted treasures ranging from Frida Kahlo pendants to embroidered clothing to Dia de Los Muertos tributes. For 27 years, this transportive spot has welcomed New Yorkers to explore a bevy of goods sourced directly from Mexico by store owner Dina Leor. Now, the store has fallen on hard times and is at risk of closing—but you can help by shopping. Leor is currently liquidating her wares with deep discounts. As she says, "depending how it all goes, [we] will be closing or continuing on." A native Manhattanite, Leor accompanied her mother on a trip to Mexico as a child and was immediately captivated. "There's something about Mexico. I was enamored, and I still am today. It's my passion, everything about it," she told Time Out. Though she doesn't have Mexican heritage, Leor speaks fluent Spanish because her mother is from Argentina. She describes herself as "Argentine American with a Mexican heart." Once Mexico took hold of her, it didn't let go. She returned to the country as an adult, sometimes using it as an escape from her challenging job in art therapy at Bellevue Hospital. On her vacations, Leor would watch artisans in the market with great fascination, buying her favorite pieces to host pop-up art shops at her job. But when she returned to her day job that fall, she got laid off. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise because it gave her some funds to start La Sirena. She began more procurement adventures, traversing the country from Chiapas to Oaxaca and beyond and filling her store wall to wall with trinkets and treasures. Leor says never planned to own a store, but she's driven by a passion to share Mexican folk art with a bigger audience. "The reason [the store is] so full is because I love all of it," she said. "I only buy things that I really like." Though it's hard to choose a favorite, Leor is particularly fond of the clay pieces by Josefina Aguilar. Like many folk artisans, Aguilar creates the pieces with her family. "The thing about Mexican folk art is that you don't go to school for it. You literally learn it in your home. You'll come home from school and just hang out with your parents who are making folk art," she explained. "It's generation to generation, which is really magical to me. I think it's so special and so nice that the families stay together that way." Over the years, Leor has sourced "enough folk art for two stores." She purchases directly from the artisans themselves. "Everything's made by another human being. To me, that's so special," she said. As longtime friend and store assistant Ivan Xochicale puts it, "She loves the tradition and she tries to support all these people to do this kind of work." Everything's made by another human being. To me, that's so special. In addition to curating an impressive array of folk art, Leor has also created a community space. She often hosts cultural events with folkloric dancers, mariachis and tamales. View this post on Instagram A post shared by La Sirena Mexican Folk Art (@lasirena_nyc) Leor remembers a story about a delivery driver from Mexico who was surprised to happen upon a piece of Mexico in the East Village. "All of the sudden, I noticed he had tears coming down his face," she remembers. "He said that the place reminded him so much of his grandmother. ... There's no money that makes up for something like that. I told him, 'you don't have to buy anything, but you could come back anytime and just hang out.' People will come in because they just want to feel like they're in Mexico." People will come in because they just want to feel like they're in Mexico. Despite the cultural impacts, the store has fallen on hard times. La Sirena had to close its doors amid pandemic restrictions, but then benefitted from an initial surge of people shopping local. Now, she says, sales have slowed down, and she's paying out of pocket to keep the store running. She's liquidating the store, selling everything for 20-60 percent off (mention Time Out for discounts) now through May 12. She's also launched a GoFundMe page for those who would like to contribute.
