Curral, 2012
(Bus parts, motor)
The Black Square Gallery (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil)
The mobile gallery project, Black Square Gallery, consisted of opening one’s own gallery wherever one likes, and promote an exhibition opening—preferably to coincide with an opening at an institutionalized gallery—as a means to gain projection in the art world. This was my opening, showing the work Curral (animal pen), which is how they call the frontal seats that have the glass partition. This section of a bus was reconstructed without attending to proportion rules in order to heighten the sense of discomfort in the passenger, as well as the motor behind, whose only function is to make the seats tremble. Praça Tiradentes used to have numerous bus stops, which were removed to ‘clean’ the area that was to convert itself in a cultural hub in the city.
Curated by Aleta Valente
Bus trips are a common experience for a big part of the population. Where encounters and communication with strangers create a unique universe of circulation and unpredictable situations. The name of the most widely used transportation in our country derives from the Latin word Omnibus, which means “for all”: a space designed for collectiveness that surpasses the individuals, immediately making us all anonymous. The interior of a bus is a place composed of exteriorities, landscapes that invade through the windows only to be lost in the distance within an instant. It is also the space of the “other”, with whom we temporarily share the seat, exchange looks and a few words. Above all, even if temporarily, we all share one same trajectory.
The current installation of Dandara Catete makes use of bus parts to create a trembling structure composed of a pair of benches, a window, bars and a motor. Seeing the components isolated, we are stimulated to rebuild its surroundings, just like when we sit by the window, exercising mundane observation. The world is therefore an incomplete drawing, capable of being filled in by effort of our will.
Part of what was previously a vehicle for motion now is found anchored, as a ship stuck in the sand due to low tide. There is a strangeness factor in this body that, as a fragment, still vibrates as if it were alive, waiting for whatever is yet to come. Nothing here is complete. Collective transportation, which in its origins intends to serve everyone, is fragmented in order to present a place of personal narratives, showing how much these daily trajectories feed our subjectivity. Since, while we cruise the city it inevitably cruises us.