I had high hopes for Tuesday night’s opening of three shows of new paintings at Braga Menendez. While I hadn’t heard of the exhibiting painters, Lorena Ventimiglia, Itamar Hartavi, or Ana-Lisa Marjak, I had heard of the gallery. In fact, before heading out that night, I googled Braga Menendez to find out a bit more about it, and was impressed to find it dubbed in the New York Times Travel section as “arguably the city’s most influential” art gallery.
So with high expectations, I headed out in the rain in my wellies to Palermo Hollywood. Arriving shortly after seven, I was surprised to see the throngs of people already starting to flood in. I don’t know if it was seeing so many Argentines arrive so early, the somewhat stuffy-seeming crowd that took note of my wellies not in a friendly way*, or the very stingy servings of wine that looked like they contained no more than a thimbleful of the stuff, but something just felt a bit off for me.
Determined to have an open mind, I reminded myself that art events are supposed to be about the art. But unfortunately, that proved to be the most disappointing of all. In the front room, Ventimiglia’s high-gloss paintings rendered in somewhat of a Japanese kawaii style turned inanimate objects into cute little characters. I get the whole kawaii trend, but I really don’t think she was doing anything new at all.
In the next and largest space in the gallery, I found myself accosted by multiple sets of Hartavi’s painted eyes. Hartavi’s exhibition truly baffled me. I didn’t get why he placed triangular mirrors that served as noses in between all the eyes. Of course there were all kinds of optical tricks you could play with, but I just didn’t understand what he was ultimately trying to do. Everything was even further complicated by all the wax head sculptures with bulbous noses placed througout the room, which for me, had no relation whatsoever to the painted works. Some of the heads had gimmicky things, like bulgy plastic eyes painted onto them, or disturbingly, little shards of mirror coming out of the nose.
Itamar Hartavi. Photo by Andy Donohoe.
Braga Menendez. Photo by Andy Donohoe.
When Andy Donohoe arrived, he found me puzzling over all this before exclaiming, “These are the smallest wine pours I’ve ever seen!” I had already been upstairs to the third exhibit of Marjak’s naive paintings of female nudes that looked like knockoffs of what could have been several different painters, so I wasn’t interested in going back up. Downing his shot of wine, Andy went up to take a quick look and returned not long after with an even harsher verdict than I.
All in all, I have to say, I found the whole scene disappointing. I don’t always expect to like the art, but I usually find something that at the very least peaks my interest or makes me think about things in a different way. Two of the shows just felt old, and the other undeveloped and muddled. Most influential art gallery? Not even close, but that’s just me and my thoughts on a rainy night.
*Note: Anyone who has walked through development-saturated Palermo Hollywood knows that most of the sidewalks are full of holes and covered in dirt, which become cavernous dark mud puddles in the rain that are dangerous to navigate at night. Needless to say, I walked more than 10 blocks of that neighborhood and was very happy to be wearing sensible footwear. Besides, even Kate Moss wears Hunter wellies!
Lorena Ventimiglia, Itamar Hartavi, and Ana-Lisa Marjak
Through October 1
Braga Menendez Arte Contemporaneo
Humboldt 1574, Buenos Aires, Argentina
Tuesday – Saturday, 1 – 8 PM
