jean arp, marc aleu, jordi baron rubí, lanfranco bombelli, joan brossa, john cage, eduardo chillida, josé antonio coderch, hannah collins, parvine curie, rita donagh, adolfo estrada, camille graesser, richard hamilton, max huber, alfredo jaar, jasper johns, shigeyoshi koyama, robert llimós, víctor mira, antoni muntadas, bruce nauman, perejaume, pablo picasso, mel ramos, man ray, antoni tàpies
black and white are not extremes of any universe. white is not the opposite of black, nor is black the adversary of white. white is not the fused sum of all colours. nor black, the annihilation of all colours. there are no shades, no gradations, no scales between black and white, because both are colours, different colours, as are ochre and magenta, the sienna of the tile and the brown of the forest humus, the carmine of the cherry and the rat grey, the dry yellow of the lichen and the blue of the impossible, the sanguine and the turquoise. the chess pieces, instead of black and white, might as well have been red and green, like the Portuguese flag. the colour of the shadow cast by a white piece is exactly the same as the colour of the shadow cast by a black piece. if lilac is the colour of some plums, white is the colour of the sky shrouded by clouds. if gold is the colour of the burnt straw of the cornfields, black is rather the colour of the celestial esplanade before it was filled with fireflies and before juan larrea published his secrets. black and white are colours, but they are certainly two essential colours that have become, over time, the symbolic representation of mourning. But in reality, are they really colours, black and white? Why should white represent silence better than any other colour? Wouldn’t the black man do the same? why does black take over the entire pictorial representation of the night? Aren’t there also white nights, which are often the ones we will remember the most?
Who knows why, we tend to think of a dark colour when referring to the background of things. and in a clear one, on the other hand, when we imagine the manifestation of light. in the exhibition unfolding before you, light and dark are the only guides to an eclectic itinerary through the form and substance of the history of the Cadaqués gallery – from concrete art to conceptual art, via new figuration, pop art and photography. un viaje radical que aspira a volver a los orígenes de la galería al mismo tiempo que a des-cubrir muestras de algunos de los artistas más deslumbrantes de los últimos tiempos. joan brossa, in his poems of seny i cabell, left these verses, which we have translated from Catalan:
bote de pintura blanca.
un campamento de yeseros en el polo. bote de pintura negra.
un negro robando carbón
en una sima.
Why should black and white be colours that strain the rainbow – one on one side, the other on the opposite side – like the facing foundations of a bridge between which is the pointed arched eye that gives way to flowing water or crushing drought? Does not the river water reflect just as clearly and harmoniously the dark, threateningly black cloud, which a moment ago was barely a dark brown with reddish edges, and that admirably white moon which, when it began to rise above the roofs of Florence, was a dull orange colour and which seems to have undergone a reverse process of maturation? black and white are not extremes of any universe. are the abstract and perfect celebration of the colours in which the human eye is watered.
Cesca Castellví Llavina
installation views
