Scenario of Memory
"Charrúas y Montes Criollos" revolves around the concepts
of ecology, history and national identity. There is a confrontational
attitude toward the destruction of nature, the extermination of human
beings, and the disappearance of memory. Present are heartfelt homages
to a fundamental aspect of the Uruguayan landscape, its devastated native
woodlands - montes criollos - and a moving evocation of the indigenous
cultures that inhabited our lands - the Charrúas and others - along
with a pain-filled denunciation of their extermination.
The analogy of these multiple devastations, so detrimental to the vernacular,
is the nodal root of Rimer Cardillo's aesthetic discourse. There is
in particular a specific reference to the Charrúas, victims of
the conquest, who, after having been persecuted and decimated in the
independent Uruguay of 1831, went on to suffer further imported aggressions
(this time the smallpox epidemic that took lives among chief Sepe's
tribe in 1863), which led to their disintegration as a nation, although
they left their legacy of Amerindian blood, present in the genes of
the country's population.
A return to the roots is transmitted very clearly. Cardillo takes the
archaic mode of thought as a legacy and a commitment, thereby linking
himself to aboriginal cultures through his homage to the primordial.
But the return to the roots is also linked to the ideas of regeneration
and rebirth: the memory implies immortality.
Thus appears the "myth of eternal return," and with it the
concepts of solidarity and continuity. "We find in man," says
Mircea Eliade, "at all levels, the same desire to abolish worldly
time and to live in sacred time. Further still, we find the desire and
the hope to regenerate time in its entirety, that is to say, to manage
to live - to live as human beings, historically, in eternity, thanks
to the transfiguration of the duration of an eternal instant."1
as a metaphor for cultural continuity
y Montes Criollos" evokes an archeological site where the process
of discovery of our roots is underway. The intention is not, however,
one of historical recreation, but instead an aesthetic interpretation
- symbolic of the concept of archeology as a reservoir of memory, as
an element that allows us to travel along the roads of the past, starting
out with memory and imagination. A fascination with the primitive is
The soil is spread out in different mounds. It recalls the artificial
"hills" of the Uruguayan aborigines. The tumuli were admirably
chosen by the indians, at very propitious sites, and constituted a true
artificial habitat where life and death developed at the same time;
there they undertook their everyday lives and buried their dead, and
thus the cyclical remained as it does in the installation. The tumuli
created by Cardillo have to do with a concept of life, and at the same
time they recall the indigenous dwellings often built in rounded form
with earth, branches, straw and leather.
Death is also present because burial and sacramental mounds existed
in the indigenous past of this nation. "As soon as an indian dies
they take the body to a certain site, which today is a little mountain,
and they bury him with his weapons, his clothes, and all his jewelry
and objects."2 We
find necromorphic elements. But they are not necessarily negative. Cardillo
does not start with a gloomy idea, but instead with an awareness of
the need for ecological, cultural and historical regeneration; he invites
the viewer to reflect, though this does not imply desperation. Death
is in a ritual category for all primitive peoples, and the fate of the
deceased is the reaffirmation of the permanence of the community. As
the primeval material, the universal raw material, the earth has always
been conceived of as a generating element, which invokes the cyclical:
live - death - life. "The earth," maintains Gilbert Durand,
"becomes the magical.."3
A telluric epiphany evokes the ctonic, the germinal, the maternal, the
generating and the regenerating. Out of it comes forms, springs life,
and it is at the beginning and the end of all biological processes.
It is the ancestral; in displaying it Cardillo metaphorically "returns"
to his soil, to his nation. The earth here, too, plays the role of humus
of art and from it emerge creative forms.
y Montes Criollos" sends us back in multiples ways to the artistic
contributions of the aborigines that inhabited these lands. In ceramics,
in stone and in sculptures there are references to carved funeral urns,
to the petroglyphs of rupestrian art, to carvings in stone, to the spearhead
and cutting tool industries, and the sculptures of lithic art.
In particular they allude to the pottery making that extended throughout
the country and had diverse manifestations in vessels with rhythmic
geometric motifs that are molded, incised, painted, pointed, corrugated
and imbricated, in deep and flat open plates, in wide bowls, jars, platters,
pots, and in tubular, cylindrical, bell-shaped and zoomorphic forms."4
They also evoke body tattoos, another form of native art, and the work
likewise has its references to mutilation rites. The Charrúas created
different marks on their bodies with incisions that were an element
of tribal distinction among the bravest warriors; moreover, there is
considerable evidence of tattooing among the Uruguayan aborigines. The
existence of mutilations of phalanxes and fingers on funeral occasions
has been verified among the Charrúas, Minuanes, Yaros, Timbues
and Chana-beguaes. "When the deceased is a father, a husband or
an adult brother, the grown daughters and sisters cut their hair, and
the wife cuts off one of the joints of her fingers for each death, starting
with the pinky. They also stick themselves several times with the knife
or the spear of the deceased, part by part, in the arms, breasts and
sides, from the waist up. I have seen it. Add to this that they spend
two moons inside their huts, where all they do is cry and eat very little
food. I have not seen a single adult woman with all her fingers intact
and who did not have scars from spear wounds."5
When Cardillo recalls these practices it is not only in a historical
sense, but instead as a metaphor of the wounds and mutilations inflicted
upon the autochthonous peoples of this country and of Latin America.
Birds, fish, lizards, tatouays and armadillos (the most typical animal
of River Plate prehistory), along with other examples of local species,
are present in the ceramics Cardillo displays on the mounds. Using animals
(which he found dead in Uruguayan fields and rivers) as forms imprinted
in relief in clay molds, he makes them look like fossils and invites
us to enter the past. Here is the concrete presence of life and death,
since these ceramics are the testimony of the transformed corpse; Cardillo
thus acts as have so many primitive artists who resort to ossuaries
and skeletons to express themselves visually. Fossilized images, these
forms reinforce the idea of the permanence of a culture beyond all possible
exterminations and suggest the intensity of the ancestral and the old,
which should not be lost. The vessels become recipients of memory, in
"memory of the immemorial" as Gaston Bachelard would say.6
The fossil (and I go back to Bachelard) "is not, then, simply a
being that has lived; it is a being that lives still asleep in its form."7
With the araucaria, a Latin American plant, Cardillo underscores the
importance of the entire continent, this time using the plant as an
aesthetic element that simultaneously plays a symbolic role. Making
the most of its splendid texture, he imprints clay molds and achieves
other pieces that look like funeral urns.
Totem poles in wood and cement recall the indigenous human groups in
many ways. Canoes, piraguas, paddles, arrows, human figures, lithic
sculpture, spears and vernacular fauna are subtly alluded to in this
"ceremonial of memory."8
A serpent is defined on one of these totems. A symbol of great consequence
in the history of human imagination, here it is associated with the
time cycle (because of the fact that it changes skin), and serves as
a vehicle for alluding to the perennial, to the cyclical and to life
that triumphs over death, a message which is present in "Charrúas
y Montes Criollos" in a variety of ways.
sanctuary and its altars
A kind of sanctuary in the form of a sacramental nave with tumuli, stones,
tree trunks and an enormous altar implying a pilgrimage to our past
and a journey that leads to recognition of the roots of this culture.
There must be a pilgrimage toward a sacred relic.
On mounds of earth that guide us to that altar are a series of heavy
granite stones. With their hardness they convey the idea of permanence,
of eternity, and have to do with ancestral Latin American lithic cults,
and also with the tools made by the indigenous peoples. Their incorruptibility
has led cultures to associate them with protection, sacredness and fertility.
Mircea Eliade explains: "For the religious conscience of primitive
man, the hardness, the coarseness, the permanence of matter constitute
a hierophany. Nothing is more immediate and more autonomous in the plenitude
of its strength, nothing more noble or more terrifying than a majestic
rock, than a block of boldly erect granite. Above all the stone is.
It is always the same, it remains and, more importantly, it strikes
a blow. Even before seizing it to hit with, man stumbles into it. And
thus he perceives its hardness, its roughness, its power. The rock reveals
to him something that goes beyond the precarious human condition: an
absolute way of being. Neither its resistance, nor its inertia, nor
its proportions, nor its strange contours are human: they are signs
of a presence that overwhelms,
that terrifies, that attracts and that threatens. In its size and its
hardness, in its form and its color, man finds a reality and a strength
that belong to another world, different from the profane world of which
he forms part.9
The mounds with stones lead to the imposing "Native Forest Altar,"
a box - urn - shrine - altar - coffer built of wood that contains native
species, one more element of memory and homage to the vanquished and
to the particular characteristics of a natural world which the macrocephalic
Montevideo tends to forget about. At the symbolic level the box has
to do with memory, with oblivion, and the "images of the secret"
(Bachelard). In this case the shrine has its doors and opens up, which
suggests the possibility of discovering what is contained in this "dungeon
of objects" (Bachelard). "I look into the coffers that brutally
surround me, creating darkness above and below, into deep, deep boxes,
as if they were no longer of this world," says the poet Jules Supervielle.10
The presence of the trunk in the shrine is fundamental, as testimony
of the native flora that must be preserved. It stands upright, but at
the same time is dry, battered, and has been sacrificed, has been burned.
For this reason on one of its altars Cardillo places a tree encapsulated
in metal, which preserves it and prepares it as testimony for the future.
That highly sacramental zone is completed with tree trunks lying on
burial mounds like punished and mutilated corpses. Another great altar
is linked to this area of the environment: its allusions to the funereal
are more explicit because its iron doors come from a Montevideo crematory.
of pain and war
Iron and wood are joined in large, very abstract sculptural forms. Their
sharp borders and their aggressive forms metaphorically materialize
pain, vicissitudes, suffering, war. The same contents are present in
another large monumental sculpture rendered in iron and cement, whose
cruciform layout clearly makes reference to sacrifices.
It is precisely now, amidst the festivities for the 5th
Centennial of the Discovery of America, that Cardillo wants to visually
convey the "voice of the vanquished," and to point an accusatory
finger at some of the ominous effects of that historic event.
Although the work generally addresses the specific case of the Charrúas
and pays homage to their indomitable character and their unyielding
resistance over three centuries, Cardillo alludes to the destruction
of other indigenous cultures of Uruguay and of this continent, and to
other massacres and exterminations.
The subject of the conquest as a historical event is fundamental, but
also present is a critical reflection on a culture that hypertrophies
the value of imports from the great metropoli. Moreover, while the native
woodlands refer to something very specific, at the same time they imply
a denunciation of all types of ecological destruction, of attacks on
the biosphere and the Uruguayan and Latin American ecosystems. "I
am concerned with the fate of certain geographic locations that should
be preserved in their original condition, recovered like sanctuaries,
venerated as places for meditation and observation. Today they are very
degraded. One of them is Cabo Polonio, a paradigm and symbol of our
coast, the indian location where arrowheads can still be found, which
was already mentioned by the first Europeans who reached our soils,
and where the presence of the gigantic rocks and dunes is truly an emblem,"
observes Cardillo painfully.11
"It is the same with Punta Ballena, a place I have gone to since
I was a child and which has now been attacked and wounded by a highway
that damages it and by buildings that distort it. It should be another
sanctuary of national geography", Cardillo goes on, as he lists
the damage done to our landscape legacy."12
Says Cardillo, "The native woodlands have been penned in, just
as in the northern part of the country the last of the Charrua tribes
were penned in; pilgrimage and dispersion were forced upon them."13
Thus Cardillo updates his proposal and stirs thought on the problems
of cultures that break with their roots, who neglect their past, who
destroy their ecological surroundings, who disregard the contributions
of their predecessors. These issues are not a subject of the past. They
belong to a present that continues to conspire against man, nature and
memory. Uruguayans reclaim the Charrua identity (as seen in everyday
evocations of the Charrua grit - "garra" - and other native
myths), but they do little to preserve the memory of that people.
In any event, "Charrúas y Montes Criollos" may very well
suggest other sentiments regarding suffering and the need for recovery
in the broadest sense of the word. Multiple echoes emanate from the
semantic fan opened up by Cardillo.
To fully develop these subjects and connotations Cardillo has created
an environment: it allows him to physically and spiritually involve
his audience, inserting them as witnesses in a reality which encompasses
them and compromises their emotional and sensory capacities in different
ways. The work requires a time for circumnavigation, as Umberto Eco
would say, and a highly moving psychological climate triumphs.
Earth, clay, ash, stone and wood are the elements used by Cardillo.
The material, form and content are closely interrelated. The idea of
primitive culture and of nature are already in those materials. But
there are also castoffs that evoke what has been destroyed and is recoverable
through art, and which also allude to a culture of poverty and obligatory
recycling. The salvaging of identity is implicit in the scrap iron and
wood, very typical elements from everyday Uruguayan life, which upon
recycling make death and the past current, rescuing them from oblivion,
providing for their rebirth. He underscores in various ways the value
of a culture that knows how to conserve, that does not live in a delirium
of consumption, that maintains its attachment to its objects. Each of
the pieces includes elements with a history, testimonies of an existence.
On the other hand, the environment relates to things Uruguayan: there
are no technological frenzies foreign to our underdeveloped culture,
or visual luxuries that deviate from the country's socioeconomic reality;
everything is made from castoff material or elements from day-to-day
life. Fire is very important in the salvaging of identity and is present
in the forging process and in the ashes and burnt timbers. It has to
do with Uruguayans' almost daily direct contact with fire, as a result
of their eating habits (grilled and barbecued meat), and a relationship
with wood and fire that has been lost in developed societies.
Linked with this proposal is the way Cardillo underscores the texture
and coarseness of his materials. He uses cement and wood in the totems;
the pieces can be viewed from behind and from the front, showing the
rugged texture of charred wood, of shavings and splinters, while the
tracks of time are suggested by rust colors achieved with iron powder
added to the cement.
With a contrast that emphasizes chiaroscuro and textures, light plays
a fundamental role and creates the sensation of mystery appropriate
to this scenario of memory. Warm and distributed intensely over certain
points, it has to do with the materials used and with the general spirit
of the work. The renowned lighting designer Carlos Torres's work in
conjunction with Cardillo makes a special visualization possible. The
shading he creates gives a clear idea of mystery. Thus we penetrate
the semi-darkness, just as we penetrate an indigenous past, that of
Uruguay, for which scant documentation exists. At the same time a sense
of the crepuscular prevails in certain zones, and if we remember the
etymology of crepuscular ("crepurus" = uncertain) we see that
there are references to uncertainty and ignorance. The music of the
well-known composer Fernando Condon abstractly creates, in keeping with
the spirit of the entire environment, a climate of mystery that has
archeological and anthropological lilts. The metaphorical level, removed
from demagogy and explicitness, is also present in this musical composition
that subtly captures the rain, thunder, the warbling of birds, and the
sounds of drums and voices.
Vertical forms linked to horizontal ones visually express death and
regeneration, passive and active, what has disappeared and what can
come back to life, what lies flat and what stands erect, transmitting
once again the message of vital regeneration that is present throughout
the proposal. Margins of solemnity and ritual, in a world that attacks
and destroys to the extent of putting the planet in danger, open up
the display of earth and natural elements. We find links to ecological
art, whose purpose is to use nature as an expressive means for rejecting
the mechanization and the artifice of contemporary life.
"Charrúas y Montes Criollos" also a relationship with
archeological art, a current trend interested in showing a culture's
possibilities for continuity. Cardillo makes his own choice by fusing
anthropology, history, ethnography and ecology.14
He himself has in a certain way acted like an archeologist, intensely
researching aboriginal cultures through broad bibliographical information,
but also on incursions that have led him to see the native fauna and
flora.15 As an archeologist
he has sought out the ancient (archeology = archaios: ancient, logos:
science). In this sense he pays homage to a science which despite its
limited dissemination has been in our country for quite some time, over
a century now, although in its more modern aspects it is newer and has
had a particular boom with the work carried out in SaIto Grande. Yet
we should not forget that the first text on national archeology was
published back in 1892.
"Charrúas y Montes Criollos" reveals the discovery process
undertaken by Cardillo. He started with an initial project but did not
apply it in a dogmatic and fixed way; instead he allowed the site of
his creation (his native Uruguay and the Municipal Exhibition Hall),
the materials he found, with their own histories and textures, and the
testimonies with which he was confronted, suggest the final work. Thus
we see the importance of the photographic and cinematographic documentation
of the work in progress, as performed by Grupo 936 and the cameras of
Channel 5, Uruguay's public television station.
To a certain extent, that anthropological and archeological content
revealed by the environment can be found in the creative process itself;
the work was made by a team, with a community criterion, with a tribal
spirit, as if the metaphorical deliverance of the aboriginal legacy
were being sought in that way too. Similarly, as Cardillo explains,
he follows procedures
that are not unlike the indigenous ones. "I have chosen the logic
of indigenous construction. For that reason I have not sought industrialized
technological solutions, but instead those linked to the primitive world;
everything I have done could have been put together in the technical
universe of the aborigines."16
In this way he attempts to create based on a language that identifies
him with his country and with Latin America. He salvages something indigenous
in this highly Europeanized place that rarely thinks about its Amerindian
heritage, and places himself in a polycultural perspective in which
he brings the indigenous to the legacy of the Old World. As the Mexican
writer Carlos Fuentes has said on various occasions, for a Latin American
it is important to know that he is neither only European nor only indigenous,
but instead an "eccentric branch of the West" that must discover
itself and take on its own physiognomy. As Fuentes maintains, we are
not simply transplanted countries, but instead nations that must be
aware that they can see themselves in all their complexity, adding to
their European heritage that of the ancient aboriginal cultures.
Cardillo aims at an integration that does not imply ignoring our European
legacy, but instead seeks to salvage something from the most remote
It is interesting to note how this monumental sculptoric projection
maintains links with Cardillo's previous work as a printmaker. The valuation
of Uruguayan and Latin American fauna was certainly incipient in the
insect images of his first prints. Later, when the real boxes began
to appear in 1979, we could begin talking about reliquaries. Further
on, in creations made in the United States in 1985, he addresses sculpture.
Wooden altars, ancestral boxes, "ranchos" (sod huts), temples,
totems and arches give shape to these new proposals, while he explores
in print textures achieved with plates made of different materials which
later lead him to create single works on paper that presage the themes
displayed in this installation. He used cotton papers pressed on previously
worked plaster and wooden plates, or on scrap iron or other found objects
that allowed him to obtain powerful reliefs. Powdered pigments, pastels
and acrylics, and woodcuts or collage for the backgrounds enrich the
textural qualities of these works. Thematically, the boxes, coffers,
amphoras, pyramids, vessels, maps, fossilized signs; charred doors,
rupestrian graphites revolve around historical preservation and Latin
American roots, around the homage to nature. We also find thematic links
with the sacramental and the funereal in the mollusk shell that is an
allegory of human rebirth and appears in funeral rites and in diverse
artistic expressions over the course of history, materializing ideas
of eternity, of cosmic order, of vital impetus, and of return. More
concrete forerunners of "Charrúas y Montes Criollos"
are the installations undertaken in the United States, including "Ceremony
of Memory" in 1988, "Altars," at the Intar Gallery in
1989, and "Latin American Memorial," in the garden of the
OAS Museum of Modern Latin American Art in Washington.17
He does not, in any event, abandon the idea of the print; we find it
above all in his use of positive-negative, and in his imprinting of
forms on ceramics. In this sense cement, as Cardillo explains, acts
as paper, playing the same support role for the print that paper does.
Formally, the pieces of "Charrúas y Montes Criollos"
all have great expressive power, in all cases starting from the idea
of a primitive monument or of Latin American cultural vestiges. Relexifying
those pre-Columbian languages through a contemporary aesthetic, Cardillo
manages to join past, present and future without allowing himself to
be contaminated by aesthetic trends of the very cosmopolitan New York.
It is rare for a Uruguayan artist to turn to indigenous roots for inspiration.
This is explained by the scant traces left by the aboriginal populations,
by their epimiolithical cultural status, and by the absence of creations
of the stature of the great pre-Columbian cultures like the Mexican
and the Peruvian. But the tribes that lived in Uruguay had their customs,
their languages, their thought systems, their religions, and their artistic
expressions, and Cardillo wants to pay them homage. From the distance
of New York, the remote past takes on another importance, and Cardillo
thus helps to salvage something that tends to be very much forgotten:
the legacy of aboriginal cultures that developed in Uruguay and having
a history of some 13,000 years. Perhaps, too, his condition as a printmaker
here plays an important conscious or unconscious role, since the engraved
and carved stones of what Uruguayan archeologists have called the "Industria
de Banadero," are one of the fundamental artistic contributions
of the indigenous peoples."18
Cardillo emphasizes his cultural identity by demonstrating a stubbornness
in maintaining his roots. Like other Latin American artists, precisely
because he is living far from his birthplace, he feels the need to underscore
his origin. Moreover, he assiduously returns to Uruguay in order to
continue feeding from that source. In a certain sense, as the Chicana
artist Amalia Mesa-Bains says, it is a survival mechanism.
Cardillo's aesthetic posture is related to a whole "multicultural"
movement which today is very intense in the United States, as very well
analyzed by Lucy Lippard.19
The image of an Anglo America is being replaced, and the "multicultural>,
theme is present today in all of American life. Marked demographic changes
have yielded very deep-reaching cultural transformations, and the Black,
Hispanic and Asiatic presence is emphasized in the visual arts as well.
There is a clear resistance to accepting the vision of a homogeneous
society and the illusion of a reassuring melting pot; instead the tendency
is to underscore the differences that allow it to steer clear of uniform
monotony. One sector of "resistentes" considers that a new
vitalizing thrust is given to creation by the preservation of multiple
identities, memories, customs and traditions. The art of communities
having diverse ethnic origins is increasingly visible, and it's precious
legacy is channeled in the visual discourses of the minorities who today
are the majority. Cardillo forms part of that "multicultural"
movement in the United States. There is resistance to dissolving into
the once much coveted melting pot, and a trend toward salvaging the
Latin American cultural heritage.
Mircea Eliade, Tratado de Historia de las Religiones, Ediciones Cristiandad,
Madrid, 1974, p.155. See also the same author
Mito y realidad, Guadarrama, Barcelona, 1978, and El mito del eterno
retorno, Planeta, Buenos Aires, 1984.
2. Felix de Azara, De los indios salvajes, Enciclopedia Uruguaya, Vol
1, Arca, Montevideo, 1968, p.82.
3. Gilbert Durand, Las estructuras antropologicas de la imaginacion,
Taurus, Madrid, 1981.
4. Rene Mora, "Restos ceramicos y campaniformes," Hoy es Historia,
year IV, No. 21, Montevideo, 1987, pages 69-83. Mario Cossens, "Situacion
actual de la prehistoria uruguaya," Hoy es Historia, year 3, No.
15, Montevideo, 1986, pages 80-94.
5. Felix de Azara, op cit, p. 82. See Teresa Porzecanski, Curanderos
y Canibales, Luis A. Retta Editor, Montevideo, 1989.
6. Gaston Bachelard, La poetica del espacio, F.C.E., Mexico, 1986.
7. Bachelard, op cit, p. 148.
8. "Ceremony of memory" is the title under which Amalia Mesa-Bains
presents works involving new expressions of spirituality by contemporary
Hispanic artists. The exhibition included works by Rimer Cardillo. See,
Amalia Mesa-Bains, Ceremony of Memory, Center for Contemporary Arts
of Santa Fe, New Mexico, 1988.
9. Mircea Eliade, op cit, p.253.
10. Cited by Bachelard in op cit p.122, comes from Supervielle's Gravitations,
11. Interview with the author, February 20,1991.
12. Interview with the author, February 15, 1991.
13. Interview with the author, April 2, 1991.
14. Other archeological artists are Anne and Patrick Poirier, Charles
Simonds, Peter Saari, Ana Mendieta, Marta Pala, Deborah Butterfield
and Robert Stackhouse.
15. The works studied by Cardillo include the following: Eduardo Acosta
y Lara, La guerra de los charruas, Monteverde, Montevideo, 1969; Eduardo
Acosta y Lara, Salsipuedes 1831, Revista del Instituto Historico y de
Geografia, Apartado, Montevideo, 1989; Francisco Bauza, Historia de
la dominacion espanola en el Uruguay, Clasicos Uruguayos, Biblioteca
Artigas, Montevideo, 1967; Mariano Berro, De la agricultura colonial,
Clasicos Uruguayos, Biblioteca Artigas, Montevideo, 1975; Pablo Blanco
Acevedo, El gobierno colonial en el Uruguay y los origenes de la nacionalidad,
Clasicos Uruguayos, Biblioteca Artigas, Montevideo, 1975; Luis Cardoza
y Aragon, Guatemala: las lineas de su mano, F.C.E.,Mexico, 1955; Juan
Cassanga, La forestation en la conservation de solos, Bulletin technical
No, MAP (Ministry of Livestock, Agriculture and Fishing), Montevideo,
1987; Ricardo Cassias, Juan Lies gang and Jacob Epineuria, Panorama
de la erosion y conservation de suelos del Uruguay, Boletin tecnico
No.4, MGAP, Montevideo, 1978; Serafin Cordero, Los charruas, Ed. Mentor,
Montevideo, 1960; Charles Darwin, Viaje de un naturalista alrededor
del mundo, El Ateneo, Buenos Aires, 1951; Diogenes de Giorgi, Martin
del Barco Centenera, Ediciones del Nuevo Mundo, Montevideo, 1989; Osvaldo
del Puerto, Notas tecnicas, Facultad de Agronomia, Montevideo, 1988;
Tomas de Mattos, Bernabe, Bernabe, Banda Oriental, Montevideo, 1988;
Ruy Diaz de Guzman, Anales del Descubrimiento, poblacion y conquista
del Rio de la Plata, Ed. Comuneros, Asuncion, 1980; Louis C. Faron,
The Mapuche Indians of Chile, Holt Rinehart and Winston, New York, 1968;
Fray Bartolome de las Casas, Del unico modo de atraer a todos los pueblos
a la verdadera religion, F.C.E., Mexico,1942; Jose Joaquin Figueira,
De las memorias del brigadier Don Antonio Diaz, Estado Mayor del Ejercito,
Montevideo, 1978; Jose Joaquin Figueira, Una excursion arqueologica
al Cerra Tupambay realizada a comienzos de 1881, Revista Nacional, apartado,
Montevideo, 1958; Notas antropologicas, Gaceta Comercial, Montevideo,
1955; Jose Joaquin Figueiras, Pipas de ceramica de los aborigenes del
Uruguay, El siglo ilustrado, Montevideo, 1961; Eduardo Galeano, Memoria
del Fuego, Ediciones del Chanchito, Montevideo, 1987; Luis Rodolfo Gonzalez
and Susuana Varese de Gonzalez, Guaranies y Paisanos, Nuestras Raices,
No.3, Ed. Nuestra Tierra; Marvin Harris, Canibales y reyes, Alianza
Editorial, Madrid, 1988; J .A. Hunter, El poder charrua, Tupac Amaru,
Montevideo, 1990; Rodolfo Maruca Sosa, La nacion charrua, Ed. Letras,
Montevideo,1957; Andre Malraux, La cabeza de obsidiana, Sur, Buenos
Aires, 1947; Oscar Padron Farre, Sangre Indigena en el Uruguay, Pesce,
Montevideo, 1987; Jose Manuel Perez Caste-llanos, Seleccion de escritos,
Clasicos Uruguayos, Biblioteca Artigas, Montevideo, 1968; Teresa Porzecanski,
Curanderos y canibales, Luis A. Retta, Montevideo, 1989; Fructuoso Rivera,
Cartas a Bernardina, Arca, 1968; Paul Rivet, Les derniers charruas,
Revista Sociedad Amigos de la Arqueologia, Montevideo; Monica Sans,
Las poblaciones prehistoricas del Uruguay, Facultad de Humanidades y
Ciencias, Montevideo, 1988.
16. Interview with the author, April 6, 1991.
17. See the following catalogues: Amalia Mesa Bains, Ceremony of Memory,
op cit; Amalia Mesa Bains, "The archeological aesthetic of Rimer
Cardillo," Intar, New York, 1989; Somos un pueblo, Aquinas Center
of Theology and Emory University, Atlanta, Georgia, 1990; The Work of
Contemporary Hispanic Artists, Museo del Barrio, Montclair State College
Art Gallery, New York, 1990.
18. Jorge Amilcar Rodriguez, "Poblamiento y formaciones socioculturales
prehistoricas en el Rio Uruguay Medio," Hoy es Historia, year VI,
NO.35, Montevideo, 1989; pages 56-70.
19. Lucy Lippard, Mixed Blessing, Pantheon Books, New York, 1990.