SUMMIT
Ten works make up the select repertoire Mondongo has prepared for its debut in Madrid. Following the reading conventions established for historical genres, at first glance, nine seem to be portraits—predominance of human faces—and the tenth would be a landscape—a small wooded grove—but upon a second look, the dense web of decisions behind each image eludes the comfort of easy categories.
In stylistic terms, the first transgression of the genre in its most traditional sense is that the realism of these representations does not come from the classic painting method—the archetype of the artist who copies from the model while it poses—but from photographic technique. Digitized and manipulated until they become grids of color, later enlarged and transferred onto a plane, then coated with various materials, the photos are not used in their pure state; rather, they are part of a process that adds multiple layers of distance between the real and its graphic version, closer to collage than painting, as it is resolved with a certain relief over a plane.
Absent body, technical mediations, virtuality: the usual language of contemporary art might seem appropriate to address these pieces, but its operability is also partial. By delving into a process made of stages that deepen the space between artists and models, another undeniable fact dismantles the hypothesis of technological art and restores the relevance of the pictorial legacy: in the choice of materials with which they work, Mondongo’s members seek nothing but total closeness with their subjects, just as the easel painter sought to capture the aura, the soul, the essence of their model. Like those painters, this group of artists also appeals to the meticulous study of the person to be portrayed, except that instead of directly observing the body, they reconstruct it from invisible assumptions. The portrait they design and create with ultra-craftsmanship derives from the dialogue with the identity/ies of the chosen character, with their apparent qualities and flaws exposed in the public sphere, with a sum of social assertions and the gaze of others.
Conceived as an image upon an image, the work results from the intersection between subjective appreciation and the discussions between the three artists, which materialize into a common voice and the flow of available and open information circulating outside of any will. Crossed by multiple imaginations, the supposed realism of these paintings then appears shaded by a rare dose of fantasy, not immediately identifiable. Despite the verisimilitude guaranteed by a frontal and direct photograph, Mondongo has found a way to create fiction instead of documentary.
When Walt Disney’s face, hero of U.S. expansionist pedagogy, is covered in plasticine and becomes almost sinister, Mondongo offers its own narrative around the great fabricator of stories. When not only Bowie’s eyes but his entire face shines with glitter, Mondongo pays tribute in stardust to the master of pop self-invention. In the San Martín made of glazed paper, a hero so grand that it overflows the frame; in the pope made of hosts over veined wood; in Lucian Freud turned into pure organic matter; in the kings of Spain and the prince made of infinitely colored crystals meticulously hand-painted; in the image of Argentine writer Fogwill, sheltered behind the tips of white pencils on a white background, in all their creations Mondongo takes collective symbols and transforms them into personal visions, narratives that amalgamate appearance and concept. Lastly, the trees of a landscape—the Botanical Garden of Buenos Aires—are clothed in flesh: in Mondongo’s pantheon of favorites, a beloved place attains the status of a person.
This series of ten pieces attempts to seal the impossible encounter of several figures who, at first, would have little in common. It is a summit meeting of people who have reached the top and from there have dealt or are dealing with the twists and turns of fame, admiration, and fanaticism, perhaps with loneliness and the weight of knowing they are icons. Mondongo confronts to honor or criticize, the gesture is not explicit, and irony weaves its fine nets around certain figures who hold prestige and authority. The technique is what first fascinates, but it is and is not what matters. Beyond the skill invested in the creation of each image, Mondongo invites reflection on idolatries, myths, surfaces of power, and crowds.
“I think the 'aura' is something that only others can perceive, and they only see what they want to see. Everything is in the eyes of others.” (Andy Warhol)
“At the summit, it’s very cold.” (Victor Hugo)

—Eva Grinstein, 2004