The beauty of (small) things
Words: Tiago Neto
Photos (by order of appearence): Arlindo Camacho, Lionel Balteiro, Luís Vasconcelos
In the work of Joana Vasconcelos, there are always ‘doors to be opened’, dreams of the future that push her to create and keep fear at bay, languages that transmit strength and resistance, that transmit tenderness, love, even nostalgia, as if the fabric of her country and her own existence were combined there.
It is an almost paradoxical existence; what we see transmitted in large-scale works — like ‘Drag Race’, ‘The Tree of Life’, ‘Wedding Cake’ or ‘Contamination’ — the bulk of the artist’s work first arrives as a small snippet of everyday life, but it is not diluted by the daily ephemera. Instead, we are invited to see it already conjured into its ultimate form, the Alpha and Omega of the idea, and then we decipher it freely into this dialogue. ‘Scale does not have a magical quality on its own, nor do the materials, nor the form, but rather the whole that is presented. What interests me above all is creating different perspectives on reality’.
Three decades on from the beginning of her career, with shows at institutions as prestigious as the Palace of Versailles, the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, the Royal Academy of Arts or, more recently, the Uffizi galleries, this native of Lisbon continues to perpetuate these different perspectives without limiting herself to being solely an artist. She is, above all, a woman.
‘I wouldn’t do the work I do if I weren’t a woman and if I weren’t Portuguese’, she reiterates. As a feminist who fights for ‘equal rights for all human beings’, Joana Vasconcelos admits that the circumstances that surround her are reflected in herself and her work, ‘inseparable not in an autobiographical sense, but in a reflective one’.
This omnipresent reflection has been her burden ever since she first made a name for herself as an international artist in 2005 with ‘The Bride’, a chandelier whose crystal pendants were replaced by tampons. ‘Marilyn’ (2011) followed suit, converting hundreds of saucepans and lids into a pair of oversized shoes and ‘Flowers of My Desire’, from 2010, was made up of lilac dusters, transformed into what looks like a fold-out bed.
However, if you look closely, you can find this reflective gaze even earlier: ‘Strangers in The Night’, from 2000, a semi-open piece with the same name as the Frank Sinatra song, whose interior is reminiscent of peep-show booths and whose exterior evokes the cars that traverse the streets at night, driven by men in search of cheap and casual love, was one of the first key pieces along these lines.
Shock, astonishment, controversy. Unfair, in a way, but they fulfil the purpose of art which leaves no room for indifference, and they also continue the common theme, unchanged over the decades, even if we refuse to confine it to ‘interventionist art’.
With her irony and humour, Joana Vasconcelos continues to subvert stereotypes, deconstruct social roles and inequalities, making use of traditionalism and Portugueseness and, with them, elevating the status of women, even if it may not always be clear. After all, the message is open to interpre-tation by the beholder.
‘Most of all, I want the public to enjoy my work. I don’t subscribe to the theory that we should tell people what they’re seeing, and I’m always amazed by the things people project onto my works, which have a lot to do with their own experiences. Gilles Lipovetsky called my art a relational art, and I agree with this description because my works exist in relation to spaces, people and ideas. It inspires me to create pieces that make people think, that make them have fun, that put a smile on their face’.
Perhaps this is the formula that has enabled her to succeed in a ‘predominantly male field’, or perhaps it was ‘necessity’, she says, not least because when she started she didn’t realise that this path was possible. ‘My main goal was to have a workspace; then I started working with friends who helped me finish off the pieces. I realised that it was important to have a team to do what I wanted to do, and that was an important lesson learned’.
And she learned. She thanks her family for passing on their ‘passion for the arts and culture’, as well as their support, but despite the more than thirty honours she has received, and the fact that she is one of Portugal’s greatest active artists, she refuses to crown herself. ‘There wasn’t a day when I decided to be an artist. That role was given to me by my peers and by the artistic community, insofar as I help to reflect the times we live in’.
With this reflection of the times, do we question whether artists should, through their art, support or oppose certain political and social positions? ‘Circumstances create their artists, and by that I mean that artistic work doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Being an artist means thinking about issues that are often political but also social, economic, environmental… My art is part of me and my beliefs are inevitably present in my work’.
‘A woman of faith who is not Catholic’, she admits that the creative process is an extension of her spirituality, which is why in 2015 she founded — with Fausta Rendall — Corpo Infinito, a department dedicated to well-being within her Atelier. ‘My spirituality translates into promoting health and peace, but also harmony and beauty’.
Fashion and design are also areas with which she has complemented her art, particularly in her collaborations with Karl Lagerfeld, Maison Dior, Louis Vuitton and Roche Bobois. ‘I’m not a designer’, she begins, but there are projects that continue to push her forward creatively. ‘The collab-oration with Dior, for example, came out of an invitation to create a site-specific piece for the presentation of the Autumn Winter 2023–2024 collection. For those like me who began showing their work at the Manobras de Maio 1994, it was the realisation of a dream. I developed this installation not only as a way of integrating the fabrics, but also to fill the space, to interact with the models and the public. It is this interaction that completes the project, exploring the triple relationship between monumental sculpture, human bodies and inhabited clothing, almost like a kind of sculptural dance. It creates a link between two worlds, the visual arts and fashion. This relationship between the worlds of art, fashion and design, between artworks and people, between objects and spaces is what drives me’.
Concerned about the present and the future, she believes ‘in dialogue and harmony to resolve conflicts’ and says that ‘the way forward will be found through unity’. She regrets that in Portugal there is no support, conditions or ‘opportunities for more artists to build a career’, and reiterates the need to ‘give more value to the work of Portuguese artists within our borders’.
She is grateful for the influence of painter Paula Rêgo and entrepreneur Manuel Reis [the nightclubs Frágil, Lux and Rive Rouge], that proved decisive in building her community. ‘Today almost 60 people work in my studio, and they support me every day. Support and community building are very important’, she emphasises.
It’s a total of three decades of work, of surprises, of unprecedented numbers, of appearances in places where no other Portuguese artists have been before. It’s hard for everything to stay the same; nothing can ever be the same. Or maybe it can. ‘My journey has been full of changes, of course, but the expressions of Portuguese know-how have remained a great source of inspiration. I’ve always marvelled at the richness of Portuguese culture: tiles, ceramics, textiles, embroidery, jewellery, gilded woodwork; the abundance of colour and the use of light. I wouldn’t do the art I do if I weren’t Portuguese, but everyday life is still my greatest source of inspiration’.
