Lucas Di Pascuale
01.10.19 | 09.11.19
The recent works that Lucas Di Pascuale (Córdoba, 1968) presented at HACHE explore the relationship between figure and background and between drawing and color. The palette in the works in Querido margen is yielded by combining lines in ballpoint pen, ink, pencil, and oil paint, always on paper. The works make use of graphisms, messages, quotations from the artist’s readings, and references to other works of art in a weave of lines and figures that sometimes extends into large formats. His procedures lead to a deceptively simple question, “Is drawing color?—a query that the gallery formulates time and again in its information on the show.
The gallery also indicates that the artist’s actions begin “in a sector of the paper like … a humidity stain that sends him to the edges. That paper starts clamoring for larger and larger dimensions.” The works were organized on the walls of HACHE in groups where red, green, blue, brown, or black predominates. In each color group, there is one large-format work and other smaller works whose titles make reference to a book, for instance Un foquito en medio del campo (A Dim Light in the Middle of the Country) by Daiana Henderson, a young poet from Entre Rios province. A number of phrases-quotes appear in the interweave of straight and curved lines that make up the drawings and words. In Un foquito en medio del campo, for instance, the color blue predominates with a few touches of green and yellow. “The drawn text, the overflowing text” with no interruption—to use Tulio de Sagastizábal’s description in the exhibition text—grows inward from the edges. In shades of green, red, and black, another work holds, among other words, “adrift,” “text,” “body,” “language,” and “power.” Entitled El placer del texto (The Pleasure of the Text), this work is dedicated to the classic essay Roland Barthes wrote in 1973. Both works form part of the “Libros” (Books) series, as do the works dedicated to La revolución es un sueño eterno (Revolution is an Endless Dream) by Andrés Rivera and to Argentine theorist and psychoanalyst Oscar Masotta. “Authors that, whether tragic or joyous, always move us. But these are tatters of phrases and thoughts, words cut up, turned by the alchemy of drawing into another way to voice images,” De Sagastizábal goes on.
Another group of works in the exhibition represents classic painting motifs. The lines in Jarra (Jug) and Pagoda, for instance, are concentrated in the middle of the sheet to highlight the contrast between figure and background with a wide blank border. Tejado (Tile Roof) and Pinar (Pine Forest) formulate another variant on the figure-background relationship. In them, the smooth texture that expands endlessly to the edge of the paper does not mean that the figure blurs into the neutral background. Textures and weaves can also grow in thickness to the extreme of Pleno (Complete), a work in marker and brown oil paint. And so the question the gallery asks returns; “Is drawing color?” De Sagastizábal seems to reply when, in closing his text, he affirms that “drawing is fragment. We are interested in those totalities that make up Querido margen because they are composed of endless slivers of time and, mostly, because after looking at them, forgetting sets in.”