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elevators, repeating the process to see up close the face of these figures. From these experiences came the
Moradias Coletivas
, that I painted at night in my apartment. When descending, these multitudes of 140x160
looked tiny and ridiculous. It was after these claustrophobic experiences of the 200 that appeared the boxes
Mor-AR
and finally the loneliness of the word AR, giant, superlative.
Despite of the long periods outside of Brazil, was in Rio, where I live until today, that I collected, in images of
my youth, the physical material that further would feed my artistic production. And it is here that I hope to
continue collecting these shreds of the city. I always keep the hope of, one day, be able to locate, in these cities-
-maps, in these works-maps, a point, a station still unknown, always anonymous: Rubens Gerchman
City is shelter, refuge, dream,
speedy encounter. Space
to move, to live, to have fun,
forget of about you, find you again.
It is a poetic space, fierce dissipated in the crowd.
We are alone and with everyone in the city. The individual and the mass.
On the street, in a corner, the possibility of some times to be
fortunate. It is also possible not be alone in the crowd, as within the
football stadium. It is the possibility of being many in one
only. Cheer for the team of your heart.
In the city as in everything, all that is seen is not. Everything
that can be seen nor it is. The hidden is only what can
be perceived. There is a door, the window, the home, the building, the
slum. They are boxes to live. Where individuals live an
internal time. The city is a different time. It is the time
of the route, the go over life-work, time of scenarios,
of masks, of comings and goings. Colorful clothes,
rhythmic bodies, with an inner sun. Faces of people who
drag in their momentary trajectories, with faces
moored or smiles in the corner of the mouth.
City is the smell of life, is technology. It is urbanization wash away
everything, bright light, beach, hearty, drawings on the sidewalk, any
clock that marks the time stated.
The city is stone blocks of mountains or buildings that
are chasms of cemented stone. There are also the hills,
where the others live, with cool breezes but in deep
misery. Feeding with rhythm, sweat and funk. They make
within a day after day simply in the shift of their body trough
the dismay.
City
Fiercenesscity
Sensualcity