Rimer
Cardillo and La Quebrada de los Cuervos
Victor
Zamudio-Taylor
AH
KEV HO EYEA ZIM / We always come back on purpose
-Edgar Heap of Birds 1
Upon first seeing Uruguay, in 1531, navigator Pedro Lopes de Sousa encountered
the colonial limits of his European language: "The beauty
of this land," he wrote, "cannot be described."2
Instead, Lopes de Sousa and other cronistas classified and quantified
the vast Native flora and fauna (and peoples), without ever "quoting"
or making reference to Indigenous cultural systems. Thus, in discourse
and practice, the Indigenous peoples were stripped of their language
and texts. Difference became "lo barbaro" in the modern project
of nation building. In the nineteenth century, Indigenous genocide and
European immigration became the underside of Uruguay's "foundational
fictions," which instilled pride in not being like the rest of
(mestizo) Latin America.
"Uruguay,"
Rimer Cardillo explains, "historically, has had its gaze on Europe,
and turned its back to its Indigenous geographies and cultures."3
But, if Uruguay lives in the paradox of Lopes de Sousa's words (in control
of the land, but unable to describe its beauty), Cardillo reaches back
to the languages displaced, and gives a voice and presence to those
silenced and absent from official narratives. His installation La
Quebrada de los Cuervos, under the sign of excavation, unearths
and makes vivid a remote Native American past that has been razed and
erased in the (Western) construction of Uruguayan history. Through evocation
of ways of being and knowing, the past is actualized and becomes part
of a social agenda regarding identity. Inspired by a notion of archeology
that rewrites and reinscribes experiences that have already been lived,4
the disappeared appear and the remote is made present in an other
cultural geography.
"In
the west," James Clifford notes, "nature is usually seen as
the starting point-the raw material- of history."5
But destructive productivity and obscene accumulation have transformed
nature and many worlds to a point of no return, so that "the fully
enlightened earth radiates disaster triumphant."6
La Quebrada de los Cuervos retrieves the traces of difference
hidden in the ruins of progress, hidden in the opposition between nature
and culture. What returns, then, is not the past, but the paradox of
language, a paradox "captured" in the Nahuatl line "only
on earth do our words remain."7
Thus, Roberto Evangelista and Regina Vater can proclaim, "And despite
massacres the indigenous memory is still breathing."8
"To
a Western gaze," Cardillo explains, "the landscapes of Ithaca
and La Quebrada de los Cuervos [a gorge in Uruguay] appear 'untouched.'
Yet both landscapes have been known, inhabited, and marked by Indigenous
cultures across time in such a manner that 'nature' does not appear
assaulted or destroyed."9
Conceptually, the installation La Quebrada de los Cuervos involves
quoting a representation of one landscape (Uruguay's Gorge of the Crows)
as an immanent cultural sign in the (con)text of another (Ithaca's gorges).
Working in the form of a "culture/collage,"10
the site-specific installation at Cornell will be composed of three
interacting elements: a banner, a "cupí," and text.
A banner consisting of nine six-by-ten-foot panels, silk-screened with
black-and-white photographs taken at La Quebrada de los Cuervos during
recent fieldwork, will be placed on the side wall of the Johnson Museum
of Art. Parallel to the marks human culture has made on nature, the
banner shows the marks of the work process in terms of variable tonalities
and contrasts. Nature itself will in turn mark the banner as a cultural
sign in the process of weathering, or of "subtracting the 'finish'
of the environment."11
A
cupí - an Indigenous cone-form pile of earth- is to be constructed
beneath the banner and in front of the side window of the Johnson Museum
of Art. The word "cupí" is guarani for "anthill."
Cardillo reclaimed the Indigenous word to rename what is known throughout
Uruguay as a "cerrito" (little hill). The cupí was
the burial form of many Indigenous cultures of present-day Uruguay.
In the cupí, many bodies were buried, in different postures,
along with animals and everyday artifacts. The cupí of the installation
La Quebrada de los Cuervos will be made of earth and slate from
the landscape surrounding the Cornell University campus. The function
of the cupí in La Quebrada de los Cuervos is ceremonial:
it renders homage to the extreme experiences endured by Indigenous peoples.
The
banner and the cupí "map" Uruguayan landscape cum
history onto the outside of the Johnson Museum of Art. The third element
of the installation "reads" the cupí through text displayed
on the inside window of the museum. This display will consist of copies
of historical and contemporary materials on the Indigenous experience,
drawn from literary, ethnographical, and documentary texts. From inside
the museum lobby, this "culture/collage" of writing will "frame"
the cupí and provide a conceptual framework for La Quebrada
de los Cuervos. Together, both perspectives-outside and inside-deconstruct
the boundaries between nature and culture.
Five
hundred years after the invasion of Native lands, domineering aesthetic
and cultural constructions still seek more to conquer in what Jimmie
Durham calls "a never-ending search for true virgin territory."12
This process subsists on blurring different histories. In contrast,
Cardillo's site-specific installation seeks to create extended and shifting
metaphors of Indigenous cultures in a geography of the Americas understood
as multiple and hybrid. Cardillo's project, while having a specificity
grounded in the Uruguayan historical process, shares with works of Native
American and Brazilian artists a desire to recover memory, and the forging
of a contemporary spirituality grounded in the tradition of an other
experience of nature.
|
To
understand the cupí is, in part, to |
|
appreciate
these Aztec riddles that reflect Indigenous |
|
cultures'
intimate relationship with nature: |
|
"What
is a little blue-green jar filled with popcorn?" |
|
Answer:
"It is the sky." |
|
"What
is it that bends us all over the world?" |
|
Answer:
"The maize tassel." |
|
"What
is a mountainside that has a spring of water in it?" |
|
Answer:
"Our nose."13 |
Notes
1. Edgar Heap of Birds, "Born from sharp rocks,"The Myth
of Primitivism: Perspectives on Art, ed. Susan Hiller (London, England,
and New York City: Routledge, 1991): 343.
2. Pedro Lopes de Sousa, Diario de Navegacion (1531); emphasis added.
3. Rimer Cardillo, interview by Victor Zamudio-Taylor, March 1993, New
York City.
4. Michel Foucault, The Archeology of Knowledge (New York City: Pantheon
Books, 1972): 138-40.
5. James Clifford, "Of Other Peoples: Beyond the 'Savage' Paradigm,"
discussion with Virginia Dominguez and Trinh J. Minh Ha, Discussions
in Contemporary Culture, ed. Hal Foster (Seattle: Bay Press, 1987):
143.
6. Theodor W. Adorno and Max Horkheimer, Dialectic of Enlightenment
(New York City: Herder and Herder, 1972): 3.
7. MSS Cantares Mexicanos, Fol. 5: v, quoted in Miguel Leon-Portilla,
Aztec Thought and Culture: A Study of the Ancient Nahuatl Mind (Norman,
Oklahoma, and London, England: University of Oklahoma Press, 1990):
71.
8. Roberta Evangelista and Regina Vater, Transcontinental: Nine Latin
American Artists (exhibition catalogue), ed. Guy Brett (New York City
and London, England: Verso, in association with Ikon Gallery, Birmingham,
and Cornerhouse Greater Manchester Arts Centre Ltd, Manchester, England;
1990): 94.
9. Rimer Cardillo, interview by Victor Zamudio-Taylor, June 1993, New
York City.
10. See the concept of "Ethnographic Surrealism" proposed
by James Clifford, The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth-Century Ethnography,
Literature, and Art (Cambridge, Massachusetts, and London, England:
Harvard University Press, 1988): 117-52.
11. Mohsen Mostafavi and David Leatherbarrow, On Weathering: The Life
of Buildings in Time (Cambridge, Massachusetts, and London, England:
MIT Press, 1993): 16.
12. Jimmie Durham, "The Search for Virginity,' The Myth of Primitivism:
Perspectives on Art, ed. Susan Hiller (London, England, and Hew York
City: Routledge, 1991): 289.
13. Nahuatl riddles, re-compiled in Book W of Fray Bernardino de Sahagun's
Florentine Codex: General History of the Things of New Spain, ed. Arthur
J. 0. Anderson and Charles Dibble (Santa Fe, New Mexico: School of American
Research and University of Utah, 1950-1969): 237-40.