How the Blob came to Brooklyn, Barcelona.
Like Steve McQueen’s character in the original 1958 film “The Blob”, I want to scream “Listen, now listen to me, everybody, this town is in danger.” So what is it that is coming to attack the city of L’Hospitalet, which these days is basically an extension of Barcelona, and which, in certain quarters at least, is trying to style itself as the “new Brooklyn”? Well, it is a blob. But this is a white blob, made of chicken wire, glass fibre and plaster and looking for all the world like the dump you’d have after eating a Mr. Whippy and taking some homeopathic laxative pills but which worryingly make your poo come out in a glutinous glob. And what’s really worrying is that, basically, that’s what it’s meant to look like. The blurb tells us that “man is empty”, and it certainly left me feeling as if I’d spent the night in the bathroom, emptying both ends at the same time. The nausea welled up as I recalled the white dog shit of my youth, which ironically was caused by dogs eating bones, the calcium in them creating a dirty hue.
This sculpture by Laura Ariño (Barcelona 1991) has no backbone, in fact no structure at all. It is “nothing but flesh, flesh which is greasy and has no bones, soft…” So it is what it is meant to be. Which is refreshing, for so many young artists think they are trying to say something, even if it is not something new, but end up saying something quite different. No. Ariño has made her point well. This work is shit. But wait. It is symbolic. It is about “a man who has forgotten he is a man. Stifled by false needs, his existence is reduced to the most basic level.” You are what you eat, perhaps? The best you can hope for in your rushing around in your business suit is to have a really satisfying dump?
Ariño’s work is currently being shown on “Sculpture’s Corner” (sic), a project from the city of L’Hospitalet and the Arranz Bravo Foundation. Its aim is to bring together the financial district of the city with the “forthcoming art and culture district.” There is a permanent circular concrete plinth, hidden away between the Metro station exit and one of the less interesting buildings of Plaza Europa. More visible is the advertising sign for McDonalds.
“Koresmena”, the title of this work, is Greek for “saturated”. But no one knows this (apart from Greeks and New Testament scholars, I suppose, though the word, thankfully, does not appear in the Bible). So we have to be told. And if we have to be told it, then it must have some special significance, it being in Greek and all. Ok then. So, the financial crisis has certainly hit Greece harder than other countries, even Spain. Is it a comment on Greek food, perhaps? I hardly think so; Spaniards are quick to tell you about their excellent mediterranean diet. Is it an anagram of “O Man Reeks”? No. It’s just an artist trying to be clever. To implicate her turd with some high falutin’ quasi-intelligentsia.
There was, however, one view of the poo, a vista with the Plaza behind and the Copisa building in the distance, which was reminiscent of the Matterhorn. I want to read something into this, something about climbing peaks in life, juxtaposed with a mountain of mèrde. But I just can’t. And it’s to do with the scale of this work (and, incidentally, the one before it, a sculpture by L’Hospitalet’s own Eduard Arranz-Bravo) which does not work at all. Plaza Europa is surrounded by some of the best architecture in town, including offices and hotels by Toyo Ito and Jean Nouvel. But this project is timid by comparison.
Much like the sculpture itself, whose fragility is incredible. I understand that it’s a temporary work. That making it in bronze, even if it were painted white, is not necessarily an option. Or is it supposed to be ephemeral. Maybe it’s not supposed to be solid, substantial. “Only the navel in the centre of his stomach and the fragility of his life recall what he once was.” Pity the first skateboarder who ollied up onto the concrete plinth (it’s a perfect height). When she fell onto the structure, and it gave way, I’m sure she felt more than a little mortified. Or maybe I’m being disingenuous to an upright citizen of L’Hospitalet, who, believing it to be an interactive work, responded to it in the only way he knew. Kicking his size 11 boot into this piece of shit. Either way, “Koresmena” is fast disintegrating.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Plaza Europa. Every year at the festival of San Joan I create ephemeral art for the central green-space of the plaza, where the people who actually live in the city go for a wander after a heavy night of partying. For me, it’s a thank-you for allowing me to have a studio in what is indeed an inspiring place. And I hope it’s not just xiná stafýlia (sour grapes) on my part, but wouldn’t a project that’s trying to big up the work of local artists choose an artist who lives and works in the city? Ariño’s studio is in Badalona which by some accounts is a rival city L’Hospitalet, and is literally the other side of Barcelona.
I can’t help thinking that this project is reminiscent of Steve McQueen’s original quest: “All right, we’re going to find this thing, and we’re going to make people believe us.” Not until the blob chases all the people out of the cinema will we really be able to believe in it, and even then, it won’t be anything more than a stage set from a B movie. The real McCoy is still to be found in Barcelona, and that’s an adventure that’s only just begun.
