Sarah Cascone (Artnet News, November 1, 2017) writes about “NKAME: A Retrospective of Cuban Printmaker Belkis Ayón,” which will close this weekend at New York’s El Museo del Barrio. She writes that, in her work, Belkis Ayón “transformed the lore of Cuban secret societies into eerie and erudite art.” Shee excerpts of her review below:
Belkis Ayón took her own life at the age of just 32, cutting short the Cuban artist’s promising career. Yet she left behind a prolific body of innovative prints, mostly in ghostly shades of black and white, which can be seen through this weekend at New York’s El Museo del Barrio.
The exhibition, the artist’s first museum retrospective, travels to Harlem from the Fowler Museum at UCLA. A pioneer of large-scale printmaking featuring often life-size figures—a single work could feature as many as 16 panels—Ayón made her cardboard printing plates with collaged materials including sandpaper, varnish, and abrasives, cutting out elaborate tableaux.
A video in the exhibition shows Ayón running her heavily textured printing surfaces through a hand-cranked printing press, transferring her exquisitely detailed designs to paper.
The artist embraced the unconventional technique, known as collagraphy, out of necessity in the 1990s, with more typical art materials in short supply in impoverished Cuba following the fall of the Soviet Union. When she was invited to show at the Venice Biennale in 1993, Ayón and her father both had to bike 20 miles to the airport, with her artwork, in order to make the journey overseas.
Deeply rooted in her Cuban identity, Ayón’s work was largely inspired by the Abakuá, an all-male Cuban secret society with African roots. Legend has it, however, that the Princess Sikán was the first to hear the voice of Abakuá, whose mystical knowledge was only to be shared with men. She was put to death when the community learned she had broken this sacred rule. But Sikán is alive and well in Ayón’s art, an alter ego for the artist, placed in a position of power.
Ayón appropriates religious iconography in her work, casting Sikán as the martyred St. Sebastian, or even more daringly, as Jesus Christ. In La Cena (The Supper) (1991), Sikán takes the role of the savior at the Last Supper, her almond-shaped eyes staring directly, captivatingly, at the viewer. At El Museo, there’s a brightly colored 1988 study for the work, as well as the final version, in stark black and white, and the cardboard matrix used to produce both. [. . .]
[Belkis Ayón, “La Cena” (The Supper), 1988, in “Nkame: A Retrospective of Cuban Printmaker Belkis Ayón,” at El Museo del Barrio. Courtesy of Sarah Cascone.]
For full article, see https://news.artnet.com/exhibitions/belkis-ayon-el-museo-del-barrio-1135799