By Yudi Kravzov
“I would like to rediscover my collection on the walls of a gallery, to relive how I acquired each piece, to go back to that time, to those times…” my mother to me between sighs, by cell phone. I was leaving the Vergel store with a carrot pancake in my hand, a walnut biscotti in my mouth and with my eyes fixed on the «For Rent» sign that hung on the door of the shop in front of the Bistrot.
It had been two years since my father died and even as a widow, my mother was still taking care of him. Something had to be done to miss him less.
Imagine being able to bring out the treasures of my collection!
The canvases that decorated the walls of my childhood began to appear in my mind. I evoked the circular table where, on Sundays, Teódulo Rómulo, Mario Martín del Campo, Maestro Amaya or Guillermo Scully, would drop in on us for breakfast. I saw the «For Rent» ad again and I saw myself settled in San Miguel, swimming in Las Grutas, touring galleries, drinking tequila with tourists from all over the world and talking at night with the stars. I saw myself dancing in fresh air, in parks and terraces, enjoying luminous sunsets, rediscovering each piece, listening to my mother’s stories in the eighties, on the street of Hamburgo, in the Zona Rosa of the then Distrito Federal.
“Imagine that” my mother recapitulated, «The work has been kept for more than 40 years without anyone looking at it. I say it lacks light. Don’t you think so?”
We opened the Irma Appel Gallery before Easter. Since then, canvases, sculptures, photographs come into my life, and every day I discover the eclectic contrast between the jewels of my mother’s collection and the artists emerging in San Miguel.
In the process, Manuel Pinomontano became part of the project. Together we walked through neighborhoods. Restless as he is, he found among precise brushstrokes and captivating stories of dark light, Thibault Barrère, a French artist from Grenoble who seemed to come from another century. His three great loves in his brush: baroque, rococo and Russian impressionism.
On the boiling rocks of May, in the parking lot of the Vergel, as in another stage, another time, another life, Thibault and I recognized each other. We talked about his timeless message that never loses relevance, about the possibility of finishing a work in front of the public, about the courage to undress without showing skin, and about his need to generate reflection in everyone who looks at his work.
On May 7, Thibault Barrère presented his work at the Irma Appel Gallery. Those of us who attended were able to feel the connection of the model with the artista. We knew the brushstroke with which Thibault finished the portrait and we saw him emerge flamboyant from the bubble of strokes where he was, to enter the expansive bubble of the party.
It was getting late. Nobody wanted to leave. The public’s dialogue with Thibault was still pending. They wanted to know his motives and to enter into his thoughts.
“Are we going to close in June?” my mother asked Thibault before we left.
“Of course we will!» Thibault answered us, attentive and with a strong embrace, full of the magic that a creator needs to build his work. He said goodbye happily, knowing that the night had not been just a dream.
When I saw him walk away, with the demeanor of an artist that distinguishes him, I found myself at the portal of the world of virtuous mortals, of creative artists, where my mother has been dancing for so many years.
