If we admit the simple premise that time and man’s action, as duration, were able to generate places, and, from these, also its ruins and memories. If we accept the fact that we find ourselves in a given situation, constructed by tendencies (placed as) natural, by known evidences, by eventual decisions that escape qualification. We may think that the codes, to which we resort to in order to understand the “here” as places, are not derived from a neutral field. Perhaps, as material as it is intangible, this field is an accumulation of our movements, of our traces and of our inclined narratives that end up reconfiguring each other, modifying our habits, unleashing new orientations. Thus, we live the formidable adventure of being in places and allowing ourselves to be affected by them as much as we affect them in a constant conjugation of discomforts, of leaps, of zones of comfort. At last, the places are constructed. We construct ourselves through in between them and their stages. In a world made viable by things that occupy places and provide geometry and presences we may think that images are also things, and that the artist is one of its makers. He builds them, reinvents himself as man, and at this measure of being and understanding oneself in the world, confers to the image a type of fighting force, at times, even more real than the notion that formulates around the real itself (Note: a poetic construction is not a well behaved object in the world when complying the task designated by its author. It may, before, be something open-ended, to be constructed, in gerund).  


Given a few of the terms of negotiation inherent to the physical space, and, therefore, the motivation of this making called interpretation, Andrey Zignnatto projects his experience of working at a brickyard with clay extracted from clay pits, along with masters of this practice in areas almost always peripheral to the rivers, and materially acts in the space, including technical, poetic, ethic, and political solutions. In this investment, the radical statute of raw material, the brick, and all the instances affiliated to it foster disparities between the place and its origin and the exhibition space – never neutral, but whose characteristics are not preponderant in construction. The artist disposes the material to rabbeting, coordinated frictions between its places of action, in between its “here.” And we, in this tense flux, question ourselves about the logical and operating distance – place, seen scene, construction of place as a process.


Embracing these distances, the photographs from the series, “Resting state” present in this exhibition occur as records of the artist’s action in resting places in the brickyard, zones where the materials repose. The photographs are what they are – man, work place, gesture of rest. They are succinctly what would be appropriate and common in working at a brickyard, which falls asleep for a while until the signal sounds and calls its employees back to work. It is thus that these images are in front of us, with no illusion. Shown in its elementary form, without complicated plans to substantiate these records for they do not attempt to make a bridge that could guide us to the brickyard. They are the contradiction between the places, which are also made viable by the artist’s body, asserting that we are here and not there.


At this point it seems valid to straighten a certain perspective regarding Andrey’s trajectory: it may be perceived as chapters. Each piece, installed and a formulator of a “here,” is like a continuation of a previous process and also acts as a trigger for experimentation of issues contiguous to it. Even so, this is not a proposition to observe the whole as a group of interlinked consequences. But rather, before, and how each consequence and each place where the work happens point to critical reflections and become propelling springs to other and distinct sculptural operations, very concrete, that involve the space as an aesthetic happening and an invisible/undividable dimension that obviously is part of these forms in process.  In lack of an adequate verb, Andrey establishes a transit – brickyard and exhibition space – and in this interim – both are atelier, they are places of practice, of formulation of dilemmas that deny the constructive scheme of the brick as a ready-made and the digression to the rough and archaic origin of the brick.  To the artist, the brick is one of the possibilities to reach the space, as an element and as a force that inserts itself violently. The brick should not be seen as a common denominator of its principles of composition. An experimentation that proves this perception is found in “Vertical action” and “Horizontal action,” drawings that make up “Studies for new propositions of interpretation of the physical space.”  An orthogonal grid with lines done by hand, which reposition themselves through the act of displacing other two grids that are contained in two frames. It is from the general grid, flattened on Funarte’s wall, that a “plumb” passes through gaining the space and the “guillotine” object erupts the wall. In these actions of drawing as a project, Andrey revisits the procedure of measuring the space and creates a nexus of occupation. The artist admits the wall as an architectural structure and, with this condition, also outlines it as a compositional element.  


With this project, Andrey takes a breath to architect a body of bricks. A collective body, of a crowd, as landscape, as an abrupt cutout of a slice of the space, which solicits other trajectories in the space, harshly spreading itself in the space. Then, we may participate, with human body and scale, from solutions that come from soft clay, from the brickyard’s resting areas, from settlements and negotiations with the masters, from cuts and re-drawings of the object and of compositions that attract each other, in terms, by the specificity of space, but also by the will to be infiltrated in it. Here, inhabit the arguments for an interpretation/construction/appropriation of space. And quite a bit of planarity, seriality, and compositional logic. And quite a bit of erosion.



Galciani Neves [April/2015]

Art curator and critic