It’s dark. It’s raw. It’s Juan Pablo Ferlat’s well-concieved, engaging show Crudo (Crude), on view through October 21 at La Ira de Dios in Villa Crespo.
As I stepped inside the door during last Friday evening’s opening, I was immediately intrigued, the gallery — crowded with hip, artsy types — was half-dark, the lighting so low that I could hardly make out the types of cookies being offered to me by a kind, older gentleman.
Around me, on walls painted standard-gallery-white and jet black, was a collection of hand-crafted paper and gigantic shots of human faces glistening in the color of oil. Beside the entrance, a sculpture of a tiny, petroleum-black head spun in quick, clockwise circles. It was a fascinating scene to take in.
I made my way around the gallery, impressed beyond expectation by the improbable beauty of all I saw, most notably the paper works in the “Herida” (or “Injury”) series. I’m often taken by works that evidence the sheer mastery of a craft, and these thick, fibrous sheets — fashioned from San Pedro cactus — were no exception. Ferlat conceived them as part of a larger project in which he explores the physical resources of the Argentine North and the symbolic ones of the Hindu and Buddhist traditions as an alternative to the petroleum-dependent methods of industrial production.
I found myself lost in the textures of these works, in the shiny slickness and scabby flatness of Herida #5, in the almost edible stickiness of Herida #7, in the scarred and burned lunar expanse of Herida #2. Under the unyielding stares of the Crudo-series photographs, and accompanied by a helpful explanatory text, these remarkable works may not point to a petroleum-free utopia, but they serve as a poignant reminder that pre-industrial craftwork can play as vital a role in art today as it did in the time before “crude oil” became shorthand for Western economic growth.
Juan Pablo Ferlat
Through October 21
Monday – Friday 2 – 7 PM