C L AU D I O B R AVO
C L AU D I O B R AVO January 14 – March 20, 2021
FORUM GALLERY
Red Cloth, 2011 oil on canvas 78 3⁄4 x 29 1⁄ 2 inches
T H E P O E T I C M AG I C O F R E A L I T Y: C L AU D I O B R AVO’ S V I S I O N BY DAV I D E B O N Y The third meaning of magic is the one I mean in my title: poetic magic . . . We gaze up at the stars on a dark night with no moon and no city lights and, breathless with joy, we say the sight is ‘pure magic.’ We might use the same word to describe a gorgeous sunset, or an alpine landscape, or a rainbow against a dark sky. In this sense, ‘magical’ simply means deeply moving, exhilarating: something that gives us goose bumps, something that makes us feel more fully alive. —Richard Dawkins, The Magic of Reality1 Paintings and works on paper by Claudio Bravo (1936–2011) can make one feel more fully alive. They sometimes generate the kind of “goose bumps” that British ethologist and evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins describes in his landmark book The Magic of Reality. Bravo’s art is magical in this sense—an apparent reflection of reality, and one that we might easily recognize, yet there is a profound difference. These images are often regarded as a form of hyperrealism, and may at first seem photographic in their convincing rendering of “the real.” Bravo, however, never used photographic sources, and instead worked from maquettes that he constructed, arrangements of objects, from live models, and direct observation. The images may appear universal and readily accessible, yet Bravo maintains a cool reserve; they are uniquely his own vision—distinctive, idiosyncratic and often rather esoteric. Gifted with technical virtuosity, Bravo commands a seemingly effortless sleight-of-hand to enthrall viewers in unexpected ways. Like a modern-day alchemist, he manages to transform everyday objects and ordinary subjects into something inimitable, rarified and extraordinary. Even his most austere and nearly abstract compositions can inspire awe in their transcendental allure. The large, mesmerizing painting Three Aluminum Papers (2010), for instance, presents as a subject an exalted trio of vertical bands of crinkled and glistening aluminum foil. Corresponding to Bravo’s celebrated painting series of anonymous packages wrapped in paper, Three Aluminum Papers shows the metallic panels, equidistant apart, fixed to thin rods and cords, and hanging against a deep Prussian blue wall. The three shimmering bands of foil, with golden highlights, suggests a devotional tableau of some kind, rather in the manner of an altar hung with Tibetan thangkas. Considering Bravo’s Catholic upbringing in Chile, and his passion for painters of the Spanish Baroque that he studied firsthand in Spain, and in particular the paintings of Francisco de Zurbarán (1598–1664), one might be tempted to regard Three Aluminum Papers as an allegorical work, alluding to the Holy Trinity, perhaps, but without overt religious imagery. In this way, Bravo, with aforementioned sleight-of-hand brilliance, infuses the commonplace with an unexpected spiritual propensity.
Another major composition with a deceptively simple subject, Stretchers (2008) harbors a similar kind of unexpected conceptual clout aimed specifically at recent art history and the contemporary art world. Here, seven stretched canvases of various sizes lean against a neutral-toned, light-beige wall. All but two of the canvases face the wall, frustrating viewers as to their subjects or content. Bravo’s masterful trompe-l’oeil rendering of the stacked canvases dazzles, certainly, as an abstract composition of layered rectangles. The work’s stunning conundrum, however, reveals itself in the two canvases that face the viewer, Minimalist, monochrome compositions—a small gray work on the left, and a larger, muted-yellow painting on the right. Bravo, who frequently asserted an appreciation for the work of Mark Rothko, Antoni Tàpies, and other abstractionists, presents the two spare monochromes of Stretchers in his typical, lovingly rendered fashion. In this picture-within-apicture, or, rather, pictures within a picture, Bravo addresses the heated—and ongoing—artworld debate—often a battle— pitting the virtues of abstraction against those of figuration. It is an argument that has preoccupied critics, art historians, art-world observers, and indeed, artists themselves, since the early twentieth century. Here, Bravo savvily calls for a truce. By employing a virtuoso realist visual vocabulary to ennoble abstract, Minimalist iconography, he suggests the poignant notion that both modes of expression, if they are well executed, can be valid efforts in the pursuit of truth and beauty in art. In Bravo’s capable hands, any subject or object, no matter how ostensibly unremarkable, offers the potential for transcendence. Engines (2009) shows what appear to be to several wornout car parts placed on an antique wooden crate protected by a clear plastic tarp. Bravo’s rendering of the subtle textures, and reflectivity of surfaces is exceptional here, and he treats these humble objects almost as portrait subjects. Against a gold-tone background, and casting dynamic shadows, the aging metal parts that once provided energy and speed to some vehicle, now sit in quiet repose like retired royal countenances. The mystical tone assigned to the hapless machinery recalls certain paintings of machine parts by the American painter Walter Tandy Murch (1907–67), just as the elegiac dignity Bravo lends the subjects corresponds to Robert Cottingham’s crisp portrayals of antique cameras and other machines. Bravo’s resplendent still-lifes Yellow Marjana and Blue Marjana (both 2008) raise ordinary household items to iconic status— neatly arranged bottles, jars, and other containers, including numerous cleaning products, placed on a table. They could be regarded as symphonic color compositions; the latter work,
perhaps, a rhapsody in blue. Color always plays an allegorical and emotional role in Bravo’s art. “Wild blue and wild green, from the branching, flowering flax, seasick with waves, the comely blue on dances. . . What Beauty! What Color!” wrote the Nobel Prize-winning Chilean poet Gabriela Mistral, one of Bravo’s favorites. “What caprice! What color! Yellow arrives huge and full of fevers; everyone makes way for it as though bearing witness to Agamemnon.” 2 While these still-life paintings were inspired by Caravaggio, Zurbarán, Juan Sanchez Cotán, Diego Velázquez, and likely certain Dutch still-life painters of the Golden Age, Bravo’s works are unmistakably contemporary. Arrangements of canned goods, dish detergent and other commercial products here correspond to Pop art motifs from the 1960s on, but the meticulous illusionism, brilliant color and light, are purely of Bravo’s fertile imagination. Yellow Marjana could be read in an allegorical way, like a classic Zurbarán still-life. From left to right, the bottles of cleaning products (at left) give way to tennis and soccer balls, and comfortable Moroccan babouchas or slippers on the right, as if sports, recreation, and relaxation would be just reward for a day of hard work cleaning, or— furthering the metaphor—soul cleansing. Permeated by various tones of aqua blue, Blue Marjana echoes the color blue in Islamic tilework, and also strikes me as an homage to the Mediterranean Sea, visible from Bravo’s home and studio outside Tangier. Bravo, who lived and worked in Morocco for decades, pays tribute to his adopted homeland in many works, but not in the usual or expected way of emphasizing local color, Berber tradition, or elements of Islamic culture. He neither romanticizes nor exoticizes the North African milieu, and his works, while harboring a spiritual aim, are apolitical in this regard. The painting Ait Iaaza, and the drawing Marabout de Tata (both 2008) explore Morocco’s landscape and its ancient architecture using the techniques of the Western landscape painting tradition. Clearly, the still-lifes Saharan Vessel (1994), Moroccan Fans (1994), and Ritual Stones (1997), are sincerely felt, reverent tributes to the arts and crafts of North Africa, particularly Moroccan weaving and ceramics—which Bravo collected in depth—as well as the country’s ancient ethnographic history. Technically conveying an astonishing verisimilitude of the texture of fur, the paintings Lamb Skin (2003), and Camel and Lamb Skins (2004) honor desert animals, and the great shepherding and agrarian cultures of North Africa. The animals themselves, however, are absent, which suggests the fragility of these traditions and their potential dissolution with modernization, industrialization, and the passage of time. Often the suggestion of absence is as poignant as what remains visible in a Bravo work. Red Cloth (2011), for instance, hints at a missing figure. Here, a bright red expanse of material, hangs high against a wall. The human scale of the work (over six feet tall), is key, as the draped fabric implies an absent figure. This could be a garment worn by a model who has left the scene, and poses nude in another room, or (in a more pensive vein) the shawl of a loved one who has departed this world. Also life-size (over six feet tall), Palm Frond suggests an anthropomorphic
presence. Standing on end against the wall, like a desert sentinel, the palm frond could have been carried in a Palm Sunday procession by a devotee. A figure is implied but absent in Bravo’s large, luminous pastel, Green Sofa (1991). Critics who think art should challenge viewers have taken issue with Henri Matisse’s famous statement, “What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity, and serenity, devoid of troubling or depressing subject-matter. . ., something like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue.” 3 Green Sofa, offers everything Matisse proposes—its luxurious satin or silk fabric in a sumptuous shade of pale celadon, with gold embroidered patterns, certainly invites a feeling of serenity and relaxation. The intricate details of the fabric, and the highlights and shading of the over-stuffed cushions, contribute to an almost dreamlike atmosphere guiding the viewer to a realm beyond reality. A feeling of hushed melancholy eventually permeates the scene, however, and a certain tension arises as one considers the now-absent person or individuals who once occupied the Green Sofa. When figures are present in Bravo’s work, they are very much creatures of flesh and blood that can only be conveyed via direct observation. His much-lauded figure studies are typically sensual, and can border on the erotic, or even homoerotic; but they are never lurid. The handsome Said (1995), a meticulous charcoal drawing with sanguine touches, shows a seated young man facing the viewer in a nonchalant pose, with legs spread and arms relaxed. The consummate draftsman, Bravo lends a special intensity to the figure’s face and eyes rather than to the torso, which provides the warm and inviting figure with an understated sensuality. In Opening the Door (1991) a young man in a white shirt with aqua-blue sleeves, stares out the window in a wistful, melancholy, and rather Vermeer-like composition. Among the earliest and most mysterious works in this exhibition, Nude Male Leaning on Column (1979) is a complex scene of a studio interior, with a male nude seated on the floor with his back to the viewer. A window in the far distance reveals an urban setting. On a bench near the male nude, a seated female nude is, remarkably, left unfinished. A ghostly presence, this sensuous apparition might suggest either the beginning or the aftermath of an erotic interlude. A surrealistic atmosphere pervades the scene, although Bravo’s work, as it explores consciousness rather than the unconscious, cannot be classified as Surreal. In this work, and in all of his paintings and works on paper, Bravo places his formidable and inimitable technical skills in the service of illusionism. With his singular vision, he aims to convey the magic of reality, which could in turn cause receptive viewers to feel more fully alive.
1 Richard Dawkins, The Magic of Reality: How We Know What’s Really True, New York,
Free Press/Simon & Schuster, 2011, p. 21. 2 Gabriela Mistral, “Round of Colors,” from Gabriela Mistral: A Reader, White Pine
Press, New York, 1993, p. 57. 3 Matisse in His Own Words; www.henri-matisse.net/quotes.html
David Ebony is a Contributing Editor of Art in America and a frequent contributor to Artnet News, and Yale University Press online, among other publications. Ebony is the author of numerous artist monographs and is a long-standing member and former board member of AICA International (The International Association of Art Critics). David Ebony teaches a graduate seminar in art and culture at the New York Academy of Art. He lives and works in New York City.
Stretchers, 2008 oil on canvas 44 7⁄ 8 x 57 5⁄ 8 inches
Green and Aluminum, 2010 oil on canvas 98 1⁄ 4 x 19 5⁄ 8 inches
Three Aluminum Papers, 2010 oil on canvas 63 3⁄4 x 51 1⁄ 8 inches
Green Sofa, 1991 pastel on paper 31 1⁄ 4 x 45 7⁄ 8 inches
Yellow Marjana, 2008 oil on canvas 51 1⁄ 8 x 63 3⁄4 inches
Lamb Skin, 2003 pastel on paper 29 1⁄ 8 x 42 7⁄ 8 inches
Saharan Vessel, 1994 oil on canvas 47 1⁄ 4 x 39 1⁄ 2 inches
Palm Frond, 2008 oil on canvas 78 1⁄ 2 x 29 3⁄ 8 inches
Camel and Lamb Skins, 2004 oil on canvas 35 x 57 1â „ 8 inches
Engines, 2008 pencil on paper 29 1⁄ 8 x 42 7⁄ 8 inches
Engines, 2009 oil on canvas 63 3⁄4 x 51 1⁄ 8 inches
Blue Marjana, 2008 oil on canvas 51 x 63 3⁄4 inches
Still Life, 2003 oil on canvas 12 1⁄ 8 x 18 3⁄4 inches
Nude Male Leaning on Column, 1979 oil on canvas 38 x 34 1â „ 8 inches
Opening the Door, 1991 pastel on paper 29 1⁄ 8 x 40 1⁄ 8 inches
Said, 1995 black charcoal, sanguine, and white pencil on paper 41 1⁄ 2 x 29 1⁄ 2 inches
Two Heads and Hands (Study for Luzbel and Lucifer), 1983 pencil on paper 15 3⁄4 x 19 1⁄2 inches
Ritual Stones, 1997 oil on canvas 38 x 51 inches
Ait Iaaza, 2008 oil on canvas 15 x 18 inches
opposite top:
Marabout de Tata, 2008 sanguine on sepia paper 9 1⁄ 2 x 12 inches opposite bottom:
Marabout de Tiout, 2008 pencil and crayon on blue paper 9 1⁄ 2 x 12 inches
C L AU D I O B R AVO (1936–2011) B ORN IN Valparaíso, Chile in 1936, Claudio Bravo showed prodigious talent in his early years. He studied at the studio of Miguel Venegas Cifuentes in Santiago from age 11 to age 20, and, anxious to explore the world of art, Bravo booked passage to Europe in 1961. He soon arrived in Madrid, where he immediately became a celebrated society portraitist. Claudio Bravo created his first painting of colored paper packaging in the early 1960’s. Intrigued by the potential of the abstracted forms, varied textures, and blocks of color he observed in this ordinary material, Bravo stated that the initial impetus to paint wrapped packages and objects draped in fabric came from looking at Mark Rothko’s color field paintings and the compositions of Spanish Informalist painter Antoni Tàpies. He had also frequently attended the Museo del Prado in Madrid where he admired the old Spanish and Italian masters, especially the color and light effects of Diego Velázquez, the cloth studies of Francisco de Zurbarán, and the still lifes of Juan Sánchez Cotán. Bravo went on to achieve great success and acclaim with his own still life paintings of cloth and paper, animal skins and bones, and ordinary everyday objects. Claudio Bravo moved to the United States in 1969, where he settled on the East Side of Manhattan. He received rave reviews for his exhibition at the Staempfli Gallery in New York a year later. After three years of city life, the Artist decided to spend time in Morocco, where the climate and landscape better suited his temperament. He moved to Tangier in 1972, purchasing a spacious 18th Century home with views of both the Atlantic and Mediterranean. Bravo’s work became infused with Moroccan culture and took on the spiritual aspects of the Islamic art and architecture in his surroundings. The influence of Surrealism became more prominent
in his subjects, noticeably in his juxtaposition of objects, dreamlike compositions, and ethereal backgrounds. Some view his oeuvre as being a hybrid of multiple religions and styles—traditional techniques with contemporary sensibilities. However, the Artist did not seek to merge his work with any particular culture and stayed remarkably true to his own style of painting. Claudio Bravo remained in Morocco for the remainder of his life, where he passed away at his home in Taroudant, at the age of 74. During his lifetime, Claudio Bravo was recognized with fourteen solo museum exhibitions including retrospectives organized by the Elvehjem Museum of Art, Madison, WI (1987-88) and the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, Santiago, Chile (1994). The Bass Museum in Miami Beach, FL devoted an exhibition to his package paintings (1997). There were solo exhibitions of Bravo’s work at the Institut du Monde Arabe, Paris (2004), the Château de Chenonceau (2006), and the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Monterrey, Mexico (2007), which traveled to Espace Bellevue, Biarritz, France. In 2007, Bravo represented Chile in the Venice Biennale at the Museo Diocesano. Works by Claudio Bravo are in many prominent public collections, including the Baltimore Museum of Art, Maryland; The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, Santiago; the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam; the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; the Museum of Modern Art, New York; the Peter Ludwig Museum, Cologne; and the Philadelphia Museum of Art. He was awarded the Gold Medal of Honor from the Casita Maria settlement house (1996), the International Distinguished Artist Award from Art Miami (2000) and he was inducted into the Pastel Society of America’s Hall of Fame (2005).
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back cover:
Moroccan Fans, 1994 oil on canvas 39 1⁄ 2 x 31 3⁄4 inches front cover detail:
Red Cloth, 2011
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