A floor-to-ceiling riot of red, white and black decals and freestanding artworks in Pivs entrance way, an installation by the FrenchBrazilian duo Assume Vivid Astro Focus that greeted visitors to the downtown artist-run space throughout April, was utterly So Paulo in its explosive, disorderly energy in the red, white and black of the flag of So Paulo state; in the decals layer upon layer of angular forms, with their elements of Concretism and Neoconcretism, touchstone Brazilian art moments; and in the neon squiggles on the ceiling overhead, tracing out variations on the citys cryptic, omnipresent pixao graffiti. A mashup of a number of previous AVAF series (Neons, 2008, Transgeomtricas, 2013, Acebolada Vadia Anabolizada Fascinante, 2014), the installations impact, upon stepping off the grey street into a world of form and colour, was almost overwhelming, and a beautiful use of a part of the gallery that is more often empty. Infiltrating AVAFs area and beckoning visitors upwards, hanging pendulously in the stairwell was the brilliantly coloured, tasselled and sequinned bulk of Joana Vasconceloss Valquria Amaznia (2014), an immense, stuffed, tentacled form plunging through the stairwell from top to bottom and insinuating its way horizontally into Pivs main gallery space with its gaudily sensual, unstoppable immensity. Against the concrete backdrop of Oscar Niemeyers mighty Copan building, in which Piv is housed, the piece was a dazzling conduit into a show featuring all 25 of the artists currently on the roster at the gallery Casa Tringulo, celebrating its 25th year with this brief return to Centro, close to the louche street Largo do Arouche, where it first opened in 1988.
But this is no retrospective, and theres
no sign of some of the most famous of the artists who have passed through the gallery since it first started out as an incubator for young talent the likes of Dora Longo Bahia, Rivane Neuenschwander, Rosngela Renn and Sergio Romagnolo. Instead, the show is an absorbing infusion of (mainly Brazilian) art in 2014. With the exception of a short film by Stephen Dean (Pulse, 2001), none of the works dates from before 2008, and the vast majority were made in 20134. Many of the pieces, site-specific or otherwise, interact with the building and its beguiling brutalist interior, rendered organic by a sensitive recent renovation that uncovers and almost excavates original features, leaving them stripped interrogatively bare. Across one long, curved sweep of window, Albano Afonsos fractallike adhesives Cristalizao da Paisagem (Crystallization of the Landscape, 20114), created digitally from photographs of foliage, sent a contagion of angular, geometric shards of jungle green creeping across the glass. Further inside, a purpose-made piece by Sandra Cinto, Tanto Mar (So Much Sea, 2014), brings an almighty monochrome sea hissing across one huge wall in the form of a 16-metre polyptych in acrylic, its rearing waves pointing the way to a narrow, tapering space in which Guillermo Moras No Consigo (I Cant Manage To, 2014) is a mess of painted wooden frames, joined with hinges to form one long, tangled whole, hung like an untieable knot. Its in the exhibitions smallest space, deep inside the building, that some of the most delicate, intimate pieces are to be found. Like his paintings, Eduardo Berliners exquisite sketches and drawings for a book of Aesops Fables show their workings and the process of creation
to the extent that it almost becomes the subject
of the works. In the case of these 2013 ink drawings, the paper is turned and sketches made facing every which way, depicting a macabre world beset by cautionary and absurd written phrases, in which besuited bears and foxes don aprons to dissect people, and donkey masks dissolve on human faces to reveal more animals beneath. Also suffused with a sense of something happening or imminent is Tony Camargos trio of tableaux vivant videos (all 2012), where preposterous but beautifully balanced scenes feature boots, balloons, plastic buckets, rickety structures and the artist himself, arranged beneath a sheet like an ungainly pantomime ghost. In the similar still-photograph versions of this series, he seems perpetually on the brink of blundering into life and ruining the ramshackle scene. And as each video gets under way, thats exactly what he does, with a choreographed awkwardness thats simultaneously graceful, contained and laugh-aloud funny. In Max Gmez Canles paintings in oil on wood and oil on copper (from 2011 and 2012), delicately realist rural scenes are subverted with the insertion of ramrod-straight edges into the landscape, namely in the form of sharply ruled riverbanks, their waters rendered in solid shades of blue that contrast with the delicate light and shade playing across the rest of the landscapes. It seems an innocent enough trick to play on the viewer, but in a final work by the artist also the final work in the show, if you take the exhibition clockwise what looks like a simple visor painted with a bucolic scene has had a pair of cruel-looking copper cones attached to the inside, ready to put out the eyes of anyone who should dare to look through it. Claire Rigby