Sandra Vásquez de la Horra

In a time of ultra-fast communication, in which our days are ruled by quick electronic delivery, and – regardless of physical or cultural differences – all regions on the planet are virtually synchronized, linked in a network of speedy transactions, Sandra Vásquez de la Horra’s drawings require time – lots of time. Fast consumption is impossible. As they emerge from her deep realm of introspective serenity, the figures draw us into a universe, which is as strangely familiar as it is bizarre, rooted in fables, fairy tales, folk religion, Latin American Catholicism, and the myths of the South American Indians.

In her drawings Sandra Vásquez de la Horra is an anthropologist, ethnologist and mythologist all at once. She was born in Chile in 1967 and spent her childhood there, ever since carrying the poetry of her country with her, from which she presents us with a wonderland of strange beings. Some of these creatures are quite funny, others rather gruesome – for example her visualizations of nightmares and torture.

Formally Vásquez’ drawings are quite simple, following a clear composition where the figures are nearly always positioned on the centre of the page. Their complexity arises from a conflict in the process of perception, between that which is actually visible and something we don’t really understand – beyond the picture. We are not just faced with a fictional construction, but something with more far-reaching references.

Vásquez’ creatures float, stagger, or simply walk. Their gaze can be mesmerizing, they can introduce us to weird sexual practices, some of them are childish and subtle, others menacing and aggressive. Saints appear, as well as creatures originating from natural religion or a world of fantasy. As delicate, as these free-floating creatures seem, so quietly intense is their aura. Pencil and paper are the only materials the artist needs, she hardly ever works with color. Paper plays a significant role in the artistic process. Vasquez usually works on old and slightly yellowed pages, often with frayed edges, already containing a story and a life of their own. The finished drawings are dipped in molten beeswax, which gives them a translucency resembling parchment. Due to the hardening effect of the wax the pages become more like objects. With the paper bearing traces of abrasion und the beeswax, the works receive a material quality. The artist’s stroke always has a tentative character; she is on a fastidious search for her self and obviously not driven by any preconceived plan. Or as Jean-Christophe Ammann describes it: “Sandra Vásquez de la Horra relocates the tonality created by the drawing process into a substantial dimension: The motif itself becomes a sound-body – inkling becomes present. The present generates itself from memory, attains a focus that can unexpectedly drift off. But the signs inscribed during this drifting off make what is present unrelenting.” Although the fragility of the wax-coated paper often stands in stark contrast to what the image represents, her drawing technique and subject matter form an intrinsic whole.

The first time I saw Sandra Vásquez de la Horra’s drawings, in the autumn of 2005, I was taken by their fascination for detail, the propinquity the images always provoke in the viewer. It was during a visit to the artist’s studio, which an artist and friend of mine had recommended. I was moved, fascinated and irritated, unable to grasp the mysterious universe behind this multitude of images or the artist’s methods. The subject matter in most of them is not decipherable, eluding any iconographic interpretation. Instead they introduce us to fantastic creatures, draw on our fears, visualize dreams, nightmares and memories; sometimes the sketches function as a pictorial diary.

The central character and charm of these many works is that they never explain themselves completely, always retaining a certain element of mystery. In the exhibition catalog “Kava Kava – Facets of Fear” (Kunstmuseum Mülheim, 2007) Ines Wiskemann wrote: “These works also contain archetypal images which evoke immediate responses in the viewer, even without prior knowledge. Depictions of hanging victims appear in a number of works. They do not represent individual fates but instead possess a universal symbolic power.”

Sandra Vásquez’ pictures are always singular. They are not connected in series, although there are recurring themes, for example the military figures or the drawings dealing with Pinochet’s dictatorship, which she experienced as a young girl. Her work proves how up-to-date drawing is – a medium that has prevailed for thousands of years as the most effective means for conveying new ideas and visions. The exciting thing about Sandra Vásquez de la Horra’s work is approaching the world of her ideas – to understand her culture and appreciate her work.

Rupert Pfab, June 2007