Mario Cravo Neto.
This exhibition was a retrospective of work produced between 1983 and 1995. The majority of the photographs portray what has now become highly contested subject matter: the other. Images of women and black men, many of them naked, dominate the show. As if to make matters worse, the subjects' faces are often veiled, hidden, or out of the lens' range. The resulting images flirt openly with another bete noire: primitivism. Figura voodoo (Voodoo figure, 1988), for instance, portrays a black man squatting, his naked body covered with splashes of some kind of dried-out liquid, his head looking down at the floor in a position that alternately suggests deep concentration and guilt. Crianca voodoo (Voodoo child, 1990) depicts the naked torso of a black boy who holds a large and seemingly exotic feathery animal. The examples continue: men hide themselves behind birds (Homem com lagrimas de passaro [Man with bird tears, 1992]), stones (Mascara X [Mask X, 1993]), a turtle (O Deus da cabeca [The god of the head, 1988]), or their own hands (Tinho [maos] [Tinho, (hands), 1990]); women are covered by veils (Kade corn veu [dormindo], [Kade with veil (sleeping), 1993]), or have their faces wrapped with thread (Luciana, 1994). Among those few photographs that depict white figures are those of babies and one of a young man whose right arm is raised to reveal a big scar left from what looks like a burn (Thomas, 1994). It's all here: from the objectification of the subject to the exoticization of the other. But it is not, finally, whether these images engage in the current debates about representations of the other that is at issue here, but what distinguishes his photographs, at their best, from those of his peers.
What drew my attention at Cravo Neto's exhibit were two images. One of them consists of a stone inserted into a human ear. The subject's skin is light and the hair dark, and though clearly young, the subject was photographed from an angle which makes it difficult to determine his or her sex. Silencio (Silence, 1992) stood out from the other works with their problematic valorization of the primitive, drawing in the viewer with its powerful, poetic vision. Placed as it is, the black round-shaped stone lends the figure a mythic quality. Yet it is the title of the work that pushes the piece into a realm at once somewhere prior to and beyond the primitive - the realm of silence. Here, we seem to be getting somewhere.
The second image, the very last photograph that confronted the viewer leaving the museum's exhibition halls, was a self-portrait (Autoretrato, 1995), which showed a white, dark-haired man in his 40s clad in loose-fitting clothes. The striking thing about the image is that the photographer's right eye is covered by a fairly elaborate bandage. What tragic accident has he been the victim of? What awful scars did it leave behind? From the partial deafness of Silencio, one moves to the partial blindness of Autoretrato. Perhaps here lies the ultimate lesson which, if it does not fully absolve the artist from his political mishandlings, might point to the true nature of the photographer's activity as one that is forever partial, biased, and fragmentary.
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|Title Annotation:||exhibition at the Museu de Arte Moderna, Rio De Janeiro, Brazil|
|Date:||Jun 22, 1996|
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