LA-DMT-S05AP-01
LA-DMT-S05AP-02
LA-DMT-S05AP-03
LA-DMT-S05AP-04
LA-DMT-S05AP-05
LA-DMT-S05AP-06
LA-DMT-S05AP-07
LA-DMT-S05AP-08
LA-DMT-S05AP-09
LA-DMT-S05AP-10
LA-DMT-S05AP-11
LA-DMT-S05AP-12
LA-DMT-S05AP-13
LA-DMT-S05AP-14
LA-DMT-S05AP-15
LA-DMT-S05AP-16
LA-DMT-S05AP-17
LA-DMT-S05AP-18
LA-DMT-S05AP-19
LA-DMT-S05AP-20
LA-DMT-S05AP-21
LA-DMT-S05AP-22
LA-DMT-S05AP-23
LA-DMT-S05AP-24
LA-DMT-S05AP-25
LA-DMT-S05AP-26
LA-DMT-S05AP-27
LA-DMT-S05AP-28
LA-DMT-S05AP-29
LA-DMT-S05AP-30
LA-DMT-S05AP-31
LA-DMT-S05AP-32
Tamayo is a museum that lends itself to being photographed.
There is the light; there is its form. It houses and displays art with grace, and visitors move through it easily, comfortably. Unsurprisingly, we find a vast archive of photographs amassed over its 40-year existence. The task becomes more complex, then, when the request arises to photograph it empty—as a tribute to its architecture and a commemoration of its opening. Inevitably, Julius Shulman’s iconic portraits from the day the museum first opened come to mind, and I ask myself: With nothing more than the building itself, how does one conceive a photograph that is distinct—one that reveals something new?
Ariadna Polo’s photographs bring the eye closer to the architectural plan. She uses it not as a static representation but as one layer among many in a carefully composed sequence that reveals the spatial consequences of the intersecting axes conceived by Zabludovsky and González de León. The architectural plan reveals the precision of the 45-degree angles that define the building. One drawing—one floor plan—is enough. It contains synthesis.
Achieving the same clarity through photography is more complex. A plan unfolds into multiple images that, together, articulate space. It is the interstitial space, and what it contains, that Ari brings to the fore. Through variations in light, scale, and, above all, through shifting orientations and emerging vanishing points, she manifests the drawing. Quietly, she frames the frames that the building itself offers—and in doing so, she gives form to the plan.
Santiago Esquivel.
Rufino prepares his canvas and stretcher to apply his vibrant colors—a dazzling yellow dominates the palette on this day. Teodoro points with his finger to a clearing between the trees as he poetically evokes the concrete ribcage; Zabludovsky, with a long cigarette between his lips, draws from his pocket an old lighter.
To explain it, one would have to imagine a magic box containing undimensionable dimensions, with rooms that extend underground like roots, where light dances within—neutral and constant—serving as a backdrop for great works of art.
A series of reinterpretations by great artists has just frozen the fleeting nature of decades of history, memories, and lived experiences. The accumulation of everything that has brought us to this moment now converges in a single format.
Santiago Martínez.
