VALENTINA LIERNUR

Nací en Buenos Aires en 1978, actualmente resido en San Pablo, Brasil. Empecé la carrera de arquitectura en la U.B.A mientras estudiaba composición musical con Carmen Baliero, y actuación en el estudio de Ricardo Bártis. Al poco tiempo dejé la carrera y comencé a estudiar pintura con Sergio Bazán mientras paralelamente cursaba la carrera de Dramaturgia en la Escuela Municipal de Arte Dramático. En 2002 estrenamos “Darío tiene momentos de soledad” en el C.C.R.R con la compañía Acapulco formada por amigos. En el 2003 fui seleccionada para formar parte del Programa para artistas visuales de la U.B.A -Beca Kuitca. Al terminar en el 2006 hice mi primera muestra individual en la galería que se llamó Pinturas y al poco tiempo mi primer performance en el contexto de una galería de arte que se llamó “DíasDorados”. En el 2008 viajé a Alemania a estudiar con Michael Krebber en la Staedlschule de Frankfurt, Alemania y cuando regresé hice mi segunda muestra en la galería que se llamó FIEBRE. Obtuve becas para estudios y para realizar proyectos del Fondo Nacional de las Artes y de la Fundación Antorchas. En 2012 junto con Victoria Colmegna estrenamos Papo´s Vip un concepto bajo el cual funciona un espacio de arte/artista- que muere y resucita cada tanto. En 2013 participé de la residencia artística FAAP y pasé mi primer período de tres meses en la ciudad de San Pablo, Brasil.

VALENTINA LIERNUR CV

Exposiciones individuales

2016
Sumisión, Reena Spaulings Fine Art. Nueva York, Estados Unidos

2015
ahhhhhhh, Campoli Presti. Paris, Francia  

2014 «
hh…ah, Campoli Presti. Londres, Reino Unido  
Corruzione, Reena Spaulings Fine Art. Nueva York, Estados Unidos  

2012
Ruth Benzacar Galería de Arte. Buenos Aires, Argentina  

2010
Fiebre, Ruth Benzacar Galería de Arte. Buenos Aires, Argentina

2009 
Le Retour des Super Models (Other), Frankfurter Kunstverein. Frankfurt, Alemania.

2008
Aquello que finalmente uno cree que no es tan determinante que los demás sepan sobre las propias ideas, Limite Sud. Buenos Aires, Argentina  

2007
Días dorados, Appetite Arte Contemporáneo. Buenos Aires, Argentina  

2006
Pinturas, Ruth Benzacar Galería de Arte. Buenos Aires, Argentina  

2003
Pinturas, Galería Alberto Sendros. Buenos Aires, Argentina  

Exposiciones colectivas

 2016
Oasis, Dixit Arte BA. Buenos Aires, Argentina

2015
Mega Por No / New Meeting, Colmegna Spa Urbano. Buenos Aires, Argentina
United States of Latin America, Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit. Detroit, Estados Unidos  
Ciclo de Bellos Jueves, Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes. Buenos Aires, Argentina
Faux Amis, Simon Lee. London, Reino Unido 
Soy un libro que no he escrito ni he leído, Capítulo II, The Goma. Madrid, España
Das Gesamtsexwerk, M/L Artspace at the Spectrum. Nueva York, Estados Unidos
Aggro Cullture, Holiday Café. Nueva York, Estados Unidos

2014
Seven Reeds, Overduin & Co. Los Angeles, Estados Unidos 

2013
No importa mi nombre, Universidad Torcuato Di Tella. Buenos Aires, Argentina
Broken Windows, New York Gallery. Nueva York, Estados Unidos  
Algunos Artistas / 90-HOY, Argentine art in the collections of Bruzzone/Ikonicoff/ Tedesco, Fundación Proa. Buenos Aires, Argentina

2012
Princpipios Flexor, Galería Gramatura. San Paulo, Brasil

2011
Abstracta Tú!, Miau Miau Gallery. Buenos Aires, Argentina  
Espíritu del tiempo, Sivori Museum. Buenos Aires, Argentina  
En la larga duración, garage owner. Madrid, España  
PintorAs, Borges Cultural Center. Buenos Aires, Argentina 
FSPC, Formalist Sidewalk Poetry Club. Miami, Estados Unidos  
Porqué Pintura?, National Endowment for the Arts. Buenos Aires, Argentina

2010
Proyecto Secundario #2, Secondary Fiorito nr 49. Buenos Aires, Argentina 
Foreword Cubista, Abyssal Space, Bilbao, España 
PintorAs, Museum of Contemporary Art of Rosario. Rosario, Argentina 
The Obstacle is Tautology, Tulips & Roses. Paris, Francia 

2009
Volatile Times, Westfälischer Kunstverein. Münster, Alemania  
You will miss me when I burn St. Mount Gomery, Montgomery. Berlin, Alemania

2008
Sink the boat before it sails, Basis. Frankfurt, Alemania  

2007
Sala de lectura/Aimar Arriola, Marzana Space. Bilbao, España

Selección de Obras

Textos

SOY UN LIBRO QUE NO HE ESCRITO NI HE LEÍDO. CAPÍTULO II. Por Mariano Mayer, 2015

“No leo mucho sobre mí, solo me gusta ver las fotos de los artículos, no importa lo que digan de mí; solo leo las texturas de las palabras.” Andy Warhol

Al igual que una novela por entregas, impresa en las páginas de un periódico semana a semana, la siguiente trama expositiva se encuentra en proceso de elaboración. Esta estructura abierta, cuyo título corresponde a un verso de Delmore Schwartz, empezó en 2014 en la Galería Mite (Buenos Aires), con la intención de proponer estructuras de expansión temporal y elementos de continuidad, junto a un conjunto de piezas y artistas cuya relación con el texto emerge de una manera particular. Alejar conclusiones y subrayar su potencial textual permite que cada capítulo pueda ser entendido como una versión de lo inacabado. Cada una de las piezas de esta exposición pone de manifiesto la voluntad por construir un lenguaje a partir de sus propios medios. Principios constructivos antes que invenciones, a partir de los cuales un lenguaje es capaz de trasmitir no una reflexión, un discurso o un relato sino su probabilidad de comunicación. Pero en esta situación de puro significante, la línea textual se ha convertido en una escritura para ser vista. La grafía ha pasado a ser un “objeto”. Sin embargo estos objetos no representan una realidad externa, como lo hace una lengua, sino su propia materialidad. Por más que participemos del mismo entorno lingüístico, habitamos un mundo compuesto de signos que nos resultan indescifrables, sujetos a variables de todo tipo. Wittgenstein recurrió a la ilusión óptica para hablar de la inestabilidad con la que observamos el mundo. Y lo hizo dibujando, en la misma circunferencia, la cabeza de un pato y un conejo. En función de la dirección de la observación reconocemos la cabeza de un animal u otro. La imagen oscila y la única manera de detener tal movimiento es nombrar lo que uno ve. Para el filósofo lo que llamamos lenguaje no es otra cosa que distintos juegos cambiantes, abiertos y forjadores de reglas. Los axiomas de Juan Sebastián Bruno, Valentina Liernur, Miguel Mitlag y Vier5 promueven una situación utópica y transitoria, donde objetos y gestos permiten acceder a un texto sin ingresar a su contenido.

Juan Sebastián Bruno & Vier5 & Miguel Mitlag & 1/1 Valentina Liernur en Galería de Goma, Madrid.

COULD COMMODITIES THEMSELVES SPEAK. Por Claudio Iglesias, 2010

You’re in an art gallery. From the ceiling hangs a jumble of lights arranged in lines and aimed at the middle of the walls, small yellow petals all gazing at a single point like a gravity-defying bed of sunflowers. You don’t see them. You walk round the paintings trying to form an opinion, trying to decide which ones you like. You don’t see what lies behind them either: neither the mechanical systems used to keep the canvas taut, nor the manner in which they have been hung, nor the many hours which have gone into the detail on the walls. At most, you assess the relationship between the paintings, the line they form, the constellation they produce. One might say that your mind operates in rectangles: you can see individual rectangles, as well as generate and recognize sequences of rectangles. There are no technical descriptions or information of any kind, since this is a gallery and not a museum. Ask whatever you need to know at the desk at the back, at which a desinterested young man is working at a computer. Perhaps he can give you a printed sheet filled with measurements and dates, or maybe a text or some kind of brochure. You continue looking at the paintings.

It’s not that you don’t sense that you are, of course, in a real space. In fact, you are within a display device, typically called “white cube”, a device so sophisticated that virtually anything can be exhibited without any loss of the certainty that something is being exhibited, and usually without the customer having to suffer the tiresome experience of not knowing what to do faced with such a banal, tautological and problematic situation, of witnessing something being exhibited. In the case of paintings, this system of rules operates in an outstandingly mechanized fashion – you are there, and you look at paintings. Questioning this experience and describing some of the uses of painting in the current artistic system appear to be what Valentina Liernur expects of the spectators at her latest exhibition, Fiebre [Fever]. Also inherent in this task is a truly dynamic experience of sensory immersion in what appears to be no more than a collection of large pieces mounted eclectically in the basement of the Ruth Benzacar Gallery. Right from the word go, these pieces reflect a mild disagreement on Liernur’s part with the usual subjects and processes of contemporary painting: the predominance of intimate scenes, slices of life and ambiguous landscapes, incomplete characters and color fields, and everything stripped bare –just as represented by thousands of painters the length and breadth of the various places and cultures in which the contemporary art market has spread like measles in the twenty-first century. With a degree of ennui and irreverence, Liernur has closed ranks using some
very different processes which surprisingly are not found in the current scene. In her work, the previous checklist is turned on its head point by point: lack of traces of narrative elements, the omission of jokes, technical complexity (oils, acrylics, aerosols, stencils), superposition, the use of a faded, but striated plane, and a work ethic which appears far removed from pictorial “apathy” and closer to Stakhanovism in the early years of the Russian Revolution. These elements create a type of image which is very dense and difficult to grasp. But what’s more, the process is extended to the space: more than just a series of individual pieces, Fiebre is also an installation comprising all of them, the objective of which is to subvert the conventional form of displaying paintings.

Using a system of very strong, cold, reflected lighting, Liernur generates an atmosphere of neutral light which is deliberately insufficent and at the same time provides spatial relief to the large banks of lights positioned up close. The paintings themselves are displayed in two sets: medium-sized pieces hung on the walls, and large canvases mounted on intersecting commercial display boards, some of them with bare frames, in the middle of the room. The spectator, therefore, doesn’t just see paintings but also, first and foremost, recognizes the conditions inherent in a normal visit to an exhibition. This investigation into display mechanisms (eviscerated and exposed to the light in the very space where they normally reign in silence) is echoed in the maneuvers effected within the images. The large paintings emphasize a pattern of lines which creates an interference between two visual fields. The others, less programmatic and more temperamental, disregard the system of lines but also appear to emerge from the accumulation of different paintings. Lines, blots, light effects, echoes of a stencilled object, entire color systems superimposed on a canvas: there is so much information in the images that with just one of the paintings any of the artists who created a slogan for the collection would be able to paint a hundred pictures over a period of ten or fifteen years simply by making small changes from one to the next. The mechanics of striation, aerosoling, scraping, erasing, etc result in a visual vocabulary full of action, but which takes no account of anything that happens outwith what is materially visible. These methods refer us to the visual culture of the avant-gardes of history, characterized by the submission of the image to every possible type of violence, in a wide range of “isms” from the second decade of the 20th century onwards. (The idea of an “iconoclastic art”, repeatedly associated with the concept of “modern art”, refers not only to the worship of all things new, but also, literally, to the destruction of the image.)

Fever takes up these ideas and extends them beyond the paintings to its presentational framework, in line with the tradition which started with the display devices of surrealism and Russian constructivism (the coat stands used by El Lissitsky are not far removed from the black-tubed scaffolding) and could include Hélio Oiticica. But if we are talking about display systems, what we see here is, above all, a commercial display environment, because everything appears to be arranged like a clothes store, with areas of interest ranging from stand-out products to little corners with heaped-up pieces for those who have more time to walk around. There is definitely something
commercial at play, even at the entrance to the gallery where we can see Liernur’s initials in a form inspired by the iconic logo of Yves Saint Laurent. The titles of the paintings (Fever 2010 #1, #2, etc) also allude to a fashion collection. In all these cases, Liernur plays with devices belonging to the fashion industry. And in this way another layer of problems is torn from within the paintings.

If at first glance the pieces function as a tool for undertaking an analysis of display systems, the paintings also contain a huge amount of sensorial information. The changing colors and textures involves a search for “sensitive concepts” of the type used in marketing, through the association of formal elements with consumer behavior, trends or even states of mind. Liernur, therefore, apes the thoughts of a fashion designer developing an idea for next season’s new collection, whilst at the same time her paintings simulate complex creations of sensitivity ready to be bought and give us a new bouquet of sensations and experiences. Is that not what happens when we see a shirt or a pair of shoes that we like? Do we not surrender – willingly or not – to the promise of happiness implicit in a bunch of shapes and colors? Does the same not happen with any household item? Liernur’s paintings place the spectator in a position of feeling the same as one does when one looks sucessfully for the right size in an item of clothing that one likes, that moment in which every consumer surrenders to what Marx once called the “science of commodities” (Warenkunde), a science which was never developed and whose function would be to study the use value of goods, as opposed to properly-called political economy, solely interested in their exchange value and in the idea of abstract work. This idea preceded contemporary studies of markets and product design, including so many examples of synergy between culture and the economy that today they might be included in what Tomás Maldonado has called “the science of preferential behaviors”; in other words, the study of social, cultural and cognitive motivations underlying esthetic judgments.

One defence – impudent, but nevertheless steadfast – of certain modern artistic ideas thus takes the form of a role play, in which the artist, her creations and the public become agents of the system of production and consumption of esthetic values associated with fashion. The reenactment of the symptom is superimposed on its very diagnosis: Fever reveals the standard norms that we find again and again in art exhibitions, and in this way the spectator is aware of the sense of his own behavior, as if for a moment, before going into another shop and continuing to look around, we didn’t wonder whether the products weren’t in fact talking to us.

Publicaciones

Ruth Benzacar Galería de Arte
Juan Ramírez de Velasco 1287
Buenos Aires, Argentina

Martes a sábado de 14 a 19.
Teléfono: +54 11 4857-3322