Catalina Viejo Lopez de Roda’s Intimate Pandemic Works Arrive on Dot
No matter what angle you view them from, Catalina Viejo Lopez de Roda’s paintings and animations are breathtaking. Her “work focuses on images drawn from her memories, dreams and experiences of female intimacy…with a central theme of self-care” and female figures that “reflect the landscape around them: the arms open like flowers, the legs reflect the meanders of the river, the depths.” imitate the hills. All this while “the double-sided dioramas encourage the viewer to circle the work and rearrange the pieces to alter the landscape.”
With his exhibition at HallSpace in Dorchester opening December 11, we asked Viejo Lopez de Roda, who grew up in the Canary Islands but earned his BFA at Montserrat College of Art in Beverly, about his dynamic and thoughtful creations in case of pandemic.
The details are incredible and they are not tiny. Can you tell us a little about your process and how long some of them take?
They usually take several weeks. “Generosity,” for example, took me a few months. Drawing begins long before putting pencil to paper. When I start a work, I create many small sketches based on a specific subject. I’ve been working on the topic of self-care since the start of the pandemic and what that means. For example, what does self-generosity mean? What does it look like visually?
I start by collecting photographic images. I will use my body as a reference for the figures in my drawings, photograph trees or objects outdoors, and scour the internet until I find the images I need to create a particular composition. I then start cutting and pasting in Photoshop, creating a collage of a figure in a specific setting. These images are entirely fabricated but represent a believable space that hopefully feels real to the viewer.
After creating this composite, I begin the graphite drawing. There is a lot of repetition when drawing many natural elements like leaves or waves, but this way of working forces me to slow down and connect to my work on a deeper level. It’s a slow process, but I find it very meditative. Once the graphite drawing is complete, I then return to charcoal. I love the different tonal values I get with graphite and the contrast of its shine with the deep matte black of charcoal. Finally, these images are translated into different media; animations, paintings and dioramas.
You say: “the groups of women who appeared in my previous works have disappeared and only one woman remains isolated in each of these works”. This seems like a major change, can you tell us more?
It was a surprise for me too! Earlier drawings and paintings often included various female figures in the same composition, often in interiors and interacting with each other in some way. As I expanded on the topic of self-care, it seemed logical that they would be alone. Of course, like many of us, I went from living a very social life before the pandemic to spending days, weeks, and sometimes months alone in my apartment. The more I was inside, the more the outside also infiltrated my art. Flowers and blooming bushes, tall and strong trees, waves, mountains and wide open spaces all began to flow into the work.
The other significant change I noticed after making half a dozen drawings was that the characters’ faces were obscured in each work. As someone whose foundation started as a portrait painter and has always focused on facial recognition, it was a surprise to realize that I had covered the faces of these characters. I understood that his facial omission is significant in that we cannot access it completely; something about her is elusive. She does not engage with the viewer and is continually involved with herself and the landscape around her. It encompasses the archetype of the wild woman; a bit dangerous, unpredictable and gratuitous.
You say: “The female figures in these drawings inspire the way I would like to live my life. Devoid of material goods, social relationships and facial recognition, these women show us the value of being human and remind us that our natural environment is inextricably woven into the fabric of our existence. When you’re creating them, how close are you to this perfect state?
While I’m doing my job, I don’t have company and I don’t talk on the phone with anyone. I don’t have a TV on or music playing. I draw myself in silence. As I work on these drawings, these quiet moments allow me to be deeply engaged, focused, and present. In a way, this reflects the female figures in the drawings who are totally immersed in their surroundings. One of the positive aspects of the pandemic is how it has forced me to slow down. We are so overstimulated in our environment – by work, other people, sights, sounds, constant background noise, etc. I don’t think I’ve reached the “perfect” state, and I’m not sure there is such a state. one thing…but what these drawings did for me and what I hope they offer viewers is a moment to pause and reflect within ourselves.
The female figures in these works often appear to inhabit ideal lush landscapes. However, upon closer inspection, some of these environments have the potential to be dangerous or are so abundant that they appear poised to absorb some of the numbers. These women are not afraid; they don’t sit around thinking about what-ifs, they get started. We cannot control our environment, the actions of others, or what happens in the world, but we do control how we respond to it. There is enormous power in this awareness.
What about real models for your work?
I use my body as a reference for these drawings, but I do not consider these drawings to be self-portraits. My body becomes a tool to convey a particular pose of a female figure within each work. It is not lost on me that a viewer might read these drawings very differently if I had a very different body type.
A curator recently mentioned that the voluptuous female figures in my work reminded them of certain female figures in R. Crumb’s drawings and comic strips. The women in Crumbs’ drawings sadistically dominate and control the men in his images. There is a power dynamic that oscillates between pleasure and violence. I think the female figures in my work also oscillate between a pleasure/violence dynamic, but this duality exists purely within themselves and not for the pleasure of others (at least in the realm of drawing). The way the female body is represented in art, of course, draws on the theme of the male gaze and how, as a female artist, I take ownership of my female body and my female experiences.
We don’t ask artists a lot of questions, sorry if this is a boring question, but given the personal nature of your work, do you have an ideal buyer and/or location in mind for your pieces to ultimately hang?
This is not a boring question and, in fact, quite relevant! I have created works so personal that I sometimes had to keep them for a little while before letting them go. I consider my work autobiographical. Making art allows me to process the world around me, my experiences, my relationships, my body and my emotions. My work is rooted in feeling and connection. So when I sell my work, I sometimes feel like I’m selling a private page from a diary.
The ideal buyer is someone who is genuinely interested in the work. They don’t buy it for investment purposes or because it matches the sofa or for other superficial reasons. They buy it because something about the work conveys an experience that they can relate to, that makes them feel something. Like many artists, I would like to see my work exhibited in public spaces where it is easily accessible and has the opportunity to connect with a wider audience and spark meaningful dialogue. Of course, once the works are released into the world, you have to let go.
Given your explanations, you put a lot of thought into your work beyond just producing it. But how much of that comes first? And how many come while you’re working?
Continuous thoughts flow in and out of the work from start to finish. I also work from a place of feeling. Sometimes an artistic decision doesn’t make much sense in my mind, but it feels right. For example, when I was working on the characters and omitting their faces, I kept thinking it was strange, but my instinct was telling me it was the right decision, and ultimately it made sense . I really enjoy this part of the process because I can make discoveries and learn from my work, I am in continuous dialogue with it and it offers me different possibilities.
My work is incredibly complex and I can sometimes find it difficult to talk about because I can discuss it from different angles. I want to talk about the importance of our environment, feminist issues, the illusion of dreams and memories, our psychological makeup, our voyeuristic impulses, the meaning of our existence. Overwhelming, right? Sometimes I have to add a cat in the photo, smiling slightly at the viewer with his asshole in his face, because at some point you just have to laugh at the intensity, the absurdity and the uncomfortable moments.
Was all this done during the pandemic? I think we may have covered some of it, but generally speaking, would you consider this a show that was absolutely shaped by the pandemic?
I created all of these works during the pandemic. They are not necessarily about the pandemic, but they are most certainly a response to the circumstances created by the pandemic. I’m from Spain and haven’t seen any of my family or many close friends in almost two years. Although I am very independent and have a high tolerance for spending time alone, this continued isolation has affected me deeply.
This Self Care project became a way to manage the worry I felt about this isolation. As human beings we can feel unfulfilled without the company of others, we place expectations on our relationships and we crave external relationships, but what I learned from doing this project is that I I’m more resilient than I thought. that if I take a break and stay with myself (without outside distractions), I enjoy my own company. Most importantly, if I take care of myself, my health, my luggage, etc., I am better equipped to support, care for, and positively give to the world around me. I hope that people who watch the series will benefit from a moment of pause where they can reflect on and process their own self-care needs so that it can bring them peace, hope, and self-love.
Personal care at HallSpace, 950 Dorchester Avenue, Dorchester. December 11 – January 29. Opening reception on December 18, from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Dig Staff means this article was a collaborative effort. Teamwork, as we like to call it.
