Interview 05: Paulo Nazareth

It was in the middle of May that his show “Noticias de America” opened at Mendes Wood. It was an unusual, but very interesting gallery presentation and different from what I've seen so far in other galleries or museums in São Paulo. So I was happy to meet Paulo Nazareth on a sunny afternoon, a few hours before he was awarded the “Prêmio MASP Mercedes-Benz Price” at MASP- Museu de Arte de São Paulo for his fascinating body of work. “My english is left, do you know? It's not right english”, he said. That's how our interview started. It's like getting directions in a country where you don't really speak the language. And, there I found myself in that exact situation, being in Brazil and barely speaking Portuguese. However, we had a rich conversation, and I hope you enjoy reading it.


FR:Your latest show „Noticias de America“ (“News from the Americas”) at Mendes Wood displayed documented performances, social sculptures, drawings and biographical portraits from your journey of several thousand miles through more than 15 countries in the Americas. What intrigued you about traveling by foot, and what were you hoping to experience on this journey?

PN: Since I was born in 1977, walking became very important to me. I saw other people walking, and I wanted to walk too. It's important because If I can walk, I don't need a car. If a car brakes or runs out of gasoline on the road, I have to wait for help. When I'm just by foot, I don't need to wait. (...)
When I went to the USA, I could not imagine taking a flight and arriving in New York. I needed Latin America in my feet. I needed to experience its culture before arriving in the US. That was very important for me. For me South and North America are one land, one kind of men, and there are no borders. Borders are political, not social. While I was traveling throughout the Americas, I experienced several problems. But these problems were often related to economical issues. If I would have money, I could cross the border with ease.
I had problems with the brazilian police. My face and my hair looked weird to them. My passport was not enough, they wanted to see my ID-card. (...) When I arrived at the Border to Honduras, I wore flip-flops and had dust on my feet. The police claimed that I was not Brazilian since I didn't wear any proper shoes. (…) And then I had problems in Mexico. There is a lot of corruption. The police thought it was strange that I wanted to take a boat to Cuba. I had to go with them, and they asked me many questions about the money and my friends house that I was supposed to stay at. It was my luck that I had a picture of Saint-Judas in my pocket. After Guadalupe which is the most important Saint of Mexico, Saint-Judas is the second Saint of Mexico. The police said it's okay to cross the border when having a depiction of the Saint with you.



FR: Your show had a very documentary character and showed many found objects throughout the Americas. How did you arrange your memories of the journey? Was there any conceptual referencing to social or economic tensions in South America while linking certain objects?

PN: In the exhibition everything is together and there are many similarities. (…) The displayed objects are all fragments of my journey. (…) Everything is linked to each other, maybe like a net.
(he places several objects on the table at which we are siting) For instance: Here is the Image of Saint-Judas and a little package of salt. This is just salt, but it's also a lucky charm since I associate something sacred to it. So there is a link and an existing dialogue between both items since there is something sacred to both of them.
I also think that the collective memory of South America is not linear. Although there are many differences, things are very related. Lets say: Brazil is one thing, Argentina, Paraguay, etc. are another thing, but it's all South America. For instance: The guarani people, an indigenous people from South America live in Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay and Brazil. For them it's one land, but after the colonization borders were created by politicians. It became a problem to cross the borders, and for the Guarani people it was impossible to walk to their relatives as they were used to before.

FR: In your interactive installation “Banana Market” presented at Art Basel-Miami, you signed Bananas and sold them for 10 Bucks each. What did you want to achieve with this gesture?

PN: I wanted to tell something about the market and the business (Art business, War business, Mafia, etc.) (...) Its about the history of Latin America, about the dictatorship that started in Guatemala and affected many other countries. It started with The United Fruit Company, the banana business that flourished in the early and mid-20th century. Its a period of social revolution, agrarian reforms and disappropriation. I wanted to say something about the big business of The United Fruit Company and the history of land monopoly. The bananas that I sold are a symbol for this part of history and it's monopoly powers.


FR:Your work has a very specific formal quality. What is your relation to material, its value and its aesthetics?

PN: I work with good materials that I find in the land, in the streets. Because why should I buy a piece of plastic when I meet it in the land? It's good and guaranteed. The producer of an artifact assures me a guaranty of 100 or 1000 years before it degrades. (...) Instead of making something myself which has no guaranty, I prefer working with materials that the world offers me. My relation to material is by guaranty.

FR: You live and work in a Favela near Belo Horizonte. Can you tell me something about your personal background?

PN: Originally, I'm from Governador Valadares, a city that I really like. (…) Today I live in Santa Luzia – Palmital, a favela near Belo Horizonte. There is an other culture. A culture of improvisation in daily life. So my language is also related to improvisation.

FR: In your work you often deal with subjects such as race, ideology, class struggle, etc. What interests you about exploring these themes in an artistic context and where did that interest come from?

PN: It's related to my own family history and their memories. But more than that, it's also related to the memory of Brazil which is very dark. The history of the slave memory, the memories of the dictatorial times, etc. (...) My work is about that mix and meeting of many people in Brazil. Religion is mixed, race is mixed and even philosophy is mixed. There are many layers. (…) I think it's about the desire of that mixed cultural memory. We brazilians don't know where we're from. We have indigenous and black roots. Where are we from? From Africa, but Africa is big. Many people, cultures and distinguished Orishas. When the black people arrived in Brazil, these diverse african cultures and religions were mixed. (...)

FR: Your performances and works have a social character, are very participatory and related to public space. Do you feel a kind of responsibility towards society while doing your work, and has that also to do with your personal background?

PN: I want the art object not to be finished in the gallery or an art collection, it belongs to many people. There is an ongoing dialogue between the art object and the viewer. Wherever you see the object, if it's in the internet, a magazine, a newspaper, a museum etc. it's also yours. The object creates a dialogue which is very important. (…) It's like a cooperation. You have one window, I have another. When you see the object, there is an interaction between your and my history. The work functions as a sort of meeting point.

FR: In a press release I read that you embody the idea of the artist as a sort of connector or performative decoder. How do you relate to this idea or approach?

PN: I want to live this and stay with people. For me being an artist is like any other job. A taxi driver is also a connector, but he's not always aware of that. I don't think so much about the tradition of performance in art, but more about its condition in life. I want to open up this dialogue between art and life. (...)
Many people, many windows...