6 minute read

Like a Curaçao bird

A troupial takes flight showing off its fiery orange breast and, in its travels, it passes through all the colors in the rainbow, it rests on a Kibrahacha tree, with flowers that look like beacons of yellow light at all times. From there, it can see the blue sea capturing the sunlight, moonlight, and the hues of ships and tourists –if it looks close enough, it can even see a tourist drinking some blue curaçao. The troupial flies around the island, the birthplace and hometown of Tirzo Martha.

Tirzo’s fate was revealed against all odds when he announced he wanted to be an artist. But even in the face of the rudimentary prospects that disadvantaged neighborhoods have for their inhabitants, in a place where the possibility of building an existence on the basis of imagination was not conceivable, Tirzo Martha entered the Academia di Arte Korsou in 1983, where he was able to stretch his wings and went on to study at the Hoge School Voor de Kunsten Utrecht in 1986. Thus, the Netherlands became the place where an unexpected window of opportunity would open up for him to explore another one of his passions: fashion.

He arrived to Molennar Fashion School in 1989. “From the start, I was fascinated by the strong visual presence of fashion. Clothing allows you to give your opinion and protest against religious and political issues. Fashion is personal, it is part of the movements in daily life, but it is also constrained and always dependent on the human body,” he states. Tirzo wanted abundance, more volume, more space, a more monumental quality. “I decided to make sculpture that, just like dresses, are very in are very close to the daily life of human beings, so I use objects and silhouettes that are part of this pace.” This stage marked a before and after in the artist’s life. He defined the way he wanted to shape his career and the structure in which he would begin to commemorate his experiences in Curaçao.

Tirzo returned to the island in 1991, and he began to research materials that vulnerable people acquire in order to achieve the necessary conditions for their sustenance. His inspiration comes from “the survival of the poor” and the materials he uses are, in his own words, a “synonym of our society’s reputation. They show what we can aspire to.” He evolved as a socially-conscious artist, with a powerful voice that speaks volumes in every installation, performance and video.

His work can transport you; you imagine yourself walking down the streets of a neighborhood where protests denounce the injustices in South America, houses are not painted, there is garbage on the floor and toys have left their years of fun behind. Inequality takes over the space. Rage abounds, it is like an endless circle contempla desde cada esfera, desde cada esquina, podría ser negro, blanco, o de cualquier color, todos sabemos lo que significa, te sientes abrumado por la rabia y la imaginación te toma de la mano para enseñarte que sientes cólera, ¿de cuántas maneras diferentes podemos protestar para que nos escuchen? Todo lo anterior sucede dentro de las paredes inmaculadas de un museo, donde quedas con la mente atascada, recordando el barrio, ese barrio que conoces mientras, en realidad, contemplas la obra de Tirzo Martha. viewed from every sphere, from every corner. It could be black, white, or any color, but we all know what it means. You feel overwhelmed by rage and imagination takes you by the hand to teach you that what you are feeling is outrage, how many different ways can we protest in order to be heard? All this happens within the pristine walls of a museum, and you get stuck in your mind, remembering your own neighborhood, when, in fact, you are looking at Tirzo Martha’s work.

Tirzo pareciera pertenecer a todas las profesiones. Utiliza bloques de hormigón y el hierro corrugado que lo camuflaría como un trabajador de la construcción; las llantas de automóviles que tanto adoran los mecánicos; paneles de luces que podrían ser manipulados por electricistas; maderas que deleitarían a un carpintero; grandes jaulas en las que los animales corren cuando van al veterinario; y las sillas no están de más, debes descansar después de trabajar en tantos oficios. Según el artista, los elementos, “están pensados en funciones específicas y van puestos de manera que estén visibles en el espacio, para que todas las personas puedan admirarlos y sentirse identificados. Consigo todo lo que necesito en supermercados, ferreterías y fábricas de artículos de concreto”, revela.

Sus instalaciones son voluminosas, grandes en mensajes y emociones. “Entrego mi máximo para que las obras tengan fuerza autónoma, por lo que no son dependientes del espacio, pero siguen interactuando con este”, explica. Los colores no son su aliado, hace lo posible por mantener la paleta original de tonalidades y así poder conservar la identidad de los objetos, pero también pinta sus instalaciones -de un solitario color- , y esto le ayuda a entregar el significado opuesto a lo que los materiales refieren. “Cuando las obras son monocromo se crea una alineación y saca a los materiales de su contexto cotidiano”.

Las luces que se alzan orgullosas en sus proyectos, son un llamado constante a su tierra, y lo instan a decir unas palabras: “Aquí, en Curazao, a la gente le gusta iluminar todo y en la noche, por ejemplo, encienden luces verdes en los árboles para esclarecer el color verde original de la planta. De la misma forma, me gusta aplicar luces para exagerar la iluminación. Esto surge de la necesidad de dramatizar lo que se muestra”.

Experimenta con su arte y disfruta compartir detalles de sus procesos creativos, para obtener variadas formas de interpretación de sus obras y hacer de ellas un trabajo colaborativo. Piensa una y otra vez los objetivos a lograr, sus formas y composiciones. “Cada vez que me presento tengo una nueva identidad”, expresa.

Tirzo Martha surgió de los barrios desfavorecidos de Curazao, patria a la que dedica su obra con amor y bronca. Alegorías a la política, religión y situaciones sociales son donde orbita la existencia del artista. No olvida sus raíces ni su pasado, y al igual que el Turpial, ave nacional, pudo alzar las alas, el vuelo, sus esperanzas, visiones, imaginaciones e ilusiones, no solo por Curazao, sino por el mundo entero.

Tirzo could be part of any profession. He uses blocks of concrete and corrugated iron, which could possibly make him a construction worker. He uses the car tires mechanics love so much, and the light panels that electricians might handle. He uses woods that would marvel a carpenter, and the large cages animals are put in to go to the vet. And chairs are not there by change, as you should rest after working in so many trades. According to the artist, these elements are “conceived to serve specific functions and are placed in a way that they are visible in the space, so everyone can admire and relate to them. I get everything I need in supermarkets, hardware stores and concrete product plants,” he reveals.

His installations are voluminous, large-scaled in their messages and emotions they produce. “I do my best for the pieces to have autonomy, so they do not depend on the space, but they do interact with it,” he explains. Colors are not his allies; he does everything in his power to keep the original color palette to preserve the identity of the objects. However, he also paints his installations with a single color, which helps him deliver the opposite meaning to what the materials are referencing. “When pieces are monochromatic, things align to take the materials out of their everyday context.”

The lights that stand proudly in his projects are a constant reminder of his land, urging him to say a few words: “Here, in Curaçao, people like everything to be lit and at night, for example, green lights would be lit on the trees to bring out the original color of the plant. Likewise, I like to use lighting to exaggerate light. This comes from a need to dramatize what is shown.”

He enjoys sharing the details of his creative processes and he experiments with his artwork to get different interpretation of his pieces and make them more collaborative in nature. He thinks about the goals he wants to accomplish over and over again, the shapes and compositions. “With every new presentation, I have a new identity,” he explains.

Tirzo Martha came from the disadvantaged neighborhoods of Curaçao, and he dedicates his work to the country with both love and anger. The artist existence orbits around allegories to politics, religion and social situations. He does not forsake his roots nor past, and just like the troupial, the national bird, he was able to spread his wings, take flight, fulfill his hopes, visions, fantasies and dreams, but not only in Curaçao, as Tirzo’s work has traveled around the world.

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