The Visualization of a Nation: Tàpies and Catalonia

DOCTORAL THESIS THE VISUALIZATION OF A NATION: TÀPIES AND CATALONIA Emily Jenkins HISTORIA CONTEMPORÁNEA FACULTAD DE XEOGRAFIA E HISTORIA SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELA 2017 On March 23, 1981 Jordi Pujol gave a speech regarding the exhibition Catalunya Avui. The President of the Generalitat proudly expressed the artistic wealth of Catalonia, reminding the audience that when they hear of Tàpies, Miró, Dalí, and even Picasso they ought to remember their Catalan heritage. For Pujol in the 1980s, Tàpies had already made his mark as an important figure within el poblé Català. In 2014, after a referendum regarding Catalan independence, Artur Mas spoke to the press about the event. He was photographed in a room with Tàpies’s enormous painting Les quatre cròniques (1990) looming in the background. In a political climate dramatically different from when the painting was created, the image took on new meanings. This investigation analyzes Tàpies’s style, the institutional support that he received, the historical context of his artistic exhibitions, and the bilateral relationship between politics and art. Emily Jenkins Informe de Directores Lourenzo Fernández Prieto Alejandro Quiroga Acknowledgements “Què fem? On enem? D’on venim? Però aquí tenim una caixa de llapis de colors.” Joan Brossa While this investigation would have been impossible without the guidance and insight of a number of excellent professors, colleagues, friends, and family, I take full responsibility for any errors within this text. When asked about my research, I am met with a number of different reactions. Some ask me what the artwork of Tàpies looks like, others ask why anyone would study Catalan nationalism, and a few say it sounds fascinating. This journey began in 2008 at a FC Barcelona soccer match where the omnipresence of the Catalan flag waving around the stadium stuck me as extraordinary. Growing up in the United States, the only comparison I could contrive was attending a Boston Celtic’s basketball game and seeing the audience swaggering their Massachusetts flags. This simply does not happen. Studying art and nationalism in Spain has led me to corners of the country that I never thought I would go. It has been an incredible adventure, particularly as I learned the Spanish language (de golpe), and I am indebted to many who have helped me along the way. To Justo Beramendi and Lourenzo Fernández Prieto: thank you for your kindness and for guiding me in Galicia. Your interest in my research has instilled me with a confidence that I lacked before meeting each of you. To my beloved undergraduate professors at Rhodes College: thank you for encouraging me to be evermore curious. To Victor Coonin: thank you for a simple conversation that gave me courage when I needed it most. To my family and friends: for supporting and loving me unconditionally. To Marcos: for your cover illustration, enthusiasm and help with the interviews. Finally, to Alex: for your patience and your compassion, for reading all of my work, I truly cannot thank you enough. La visualización dunha nación: Tàpies e Cataluña Resumo O día 23 de marzo de 1981 Jordi Pujol deu un discurso en relación coa exposición Cataluña Avui, na se da UNESCO en París. O presidente da Generalitat de Cataluña, expresaba con orgullo a riqueza artística de Cataluña, facía acordar á audiencia que cando escoitan falar de Antoni Tàpies, Miró, Dalí, e incluso Picasso, deberan acordar a súa identidade catalana. Pujol presentou estes artistas coma líderes dunha poboación histórica, industrializada e culta. O seu obxectivo era promover os logros dun pobo que compón parte do estado español recén democratizado. Para Pujol, durante os anos 80, Tàpies xa deixara a súa impronta coma unha figura importante dentro do poblé catalá. Por que o arte de Tàpies convertérase nun icono en Cataluña? En 2014, dous días despois dunha votación no-oficial sobre a soberanía de Cataluña, Artur Mas, o presidente da Generalitat falara sobre o referendum en Barcelona; durante este discurso foi fotografiado sentado na Dala Tarradellas do Palau da Generalitat cun cadro enorme de Tàpies, Les quatre cròniques (1990) mostrado no fondo. Que papel tiña a Generalitat na promoción da obra do artista? Como pode o contexto afetar á recepción das obras de arte de Tàpies? Nun clima político radicalmente diferente de cando se creou esta pintura, a imaxe adquire un novo significado. Palabras clave: Tàpies, Arte, Cataluña, Política, Nacionalismo. La visualización de una nación: Tàpies y Cataluña Resumen El 23 de marzo de 1981 Jordi Pujol dio un discurso en relación con la exposición Cataluña Avui, en la sede de la UNESCO en París. El presidente de la Generalitat de Catalunya, expresaba con orgullo la riqueza artística de Cataluña, recordaba a la audiencia que cuando oyen hablar de Antoni Tàpies, Miró, Dalí, e incluso Picasso, deberían recordar su identidad catalana. Pujol presentó a estos artistas como los líderes de una población histórica, industrializado, y culta. Su objetivo era promover los logros de un pueblo que compone parte del estado español recién democratizado. Para Pujol, durante los años 80, Tàpies ya había dejado su impronta como una figura importante dentro del poblé Català. ¿Por qué el arte de Tàpies se ha convertido en un icono en Cataluña? En 2014, dos días después de una votación no oficial sobre la soberanía de Cataluña, Artur Mas, el presidente de la Generalitat ha hablado sobre este referendum en Barcelona; durante este discurso fue fotografiado sentado en la Sala Tarradellas del Palau de la Generalitat con un cuadro enorme de Tàpies, Les quatre Cròniques (1990) que se adivina en el fondo. ¿Qué papel tenía la Generalitat en la promoción de la obra del artista? ¿Cómo puede el contexto afectar a la recepción de las obras de arte de Tàpies? En un clima político radicalmente diferente de cuando se creó esta pintura, esta imagen adquiere un nuevo significado. Palabras clave: Tàpies, Arte, Cataluña, Política, Nacionalismo 17 mold the conception of contemporary Catalan identities. In looking at the way in which works of art are presented to the public, I intend to draw attention to often-unforeseen nuances concerning institutional agendas and the practice of creating exhibitions. For example, curators do more than simply select artworks that fit into a particular theme; they structure the order and environment in which we experience those works, similar to a pastor who herds a flock of sheep. In turn, this affects our thoughts and sensations concerning the works themselves. I will illustrate this point through the comparison of exhibitions held in Barcelona, Bilbao, and New York in order to demonstrate the extent to which curators can control the perceived meaning of artistic content. How does political art impact national thought? Murray Edelman’s book From Art to Politics: How Artistic Creations Shape Political Conceptions demonstrated that art is able to “excite minds and feelings” differently than other quotidian experiences.5 Furthermore, art can create new realities, offering alternative perspectives that could lead to previously unperceived possibilities. Through the presentation of visual ideas, art can activate critical thinking, “energize” democracy, and encourage a rethinking of conventional habits and beliefs.6 Edelman showed that art is a fundamental aspect of the human experience and it is always political. While From Art to Politics established that art is a significant political force, it did not delve into the relationship between art and nationalism. What is the current relationship between the artwork of Tàpies, nationalisms, and national identities in Catalonia? While Tàpies created many canvases that show his desire to visually express material associated with his homeland, they do not reveal to us that being Catalan is mutually exclusive with being Spanish or even European. This is critical to recognize when observing his art decades after its creation. At the same time, Tàpies’s acceptance of certain public projects and, more interestingly, his refusal to create a mural for Madrid’s international airport in the early 1990s did reveal the artist’s attitude towards high-profile works beyond Catalonia. Through his art and writing, what Tàpies did make clear was his desire for freedom and a democratic government both in any beyond Catalonia. This investigation seeks to consider both the artist’s depictions in relation to nationalism and the way that diverse groups from different parts of the globe can come to understand his art in various spaces and times. 5 Murray Edelman, From Art to Politics: How Artistic Creations Shape Political Conceptions (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1995), 143. 6 Edelman, From Art to Politics, 144. 18 1.2 Historiography Montserrat Guibernau stated that the Catalan artists Miró, Gaudí, Dalí, Tàpies, and Casals have been converted into icons that play a role in the emotional arguments linked to Catalan nationalism.7 At different moments throughout history, Catalan nationalists have looked to art and culture in order to support the idea that Catalonia is different from Spain. In Identitats contemporànies: Catalunya i Espanya, Borja de Riquer stressed that being Catalan stems from one’s identity and is related to the land’s “history, customs, traditions, laws, art, and, essentially, language and culture.”8 However, that difference is not necessarily problematic. During the debates concerning the drafting of Spain’s 1978 Constitution, all of Catalonia’s political parties except for the Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya (ERC) accepted the configuration of Catalonia as one of Spain’s multiple nationalities. ERC’s representative Heribert Barrera objected to characterizing Spain itself as a nation, but his party did not have an issue with Catalonia’s political inclusion within the Kingdom of Spain. He stated that Catalonia’s future status as an Autonomous Community “is perfectly compatible with our feelings and aspirations as Catalans.”9 Literature concerning the nature of Catalan nationalism is extensive and often emphasizes Catalonia’s unique situation as a stateless nation within a multinational state, the historicity of Catalan Courts, and the movement’s propensity towards nonviolent mobilization (Balcells, Balfour and Quiroga, Conversi, Crameri, Dowling, Guibernau, Mar-Molinero and Smith, McRoberts, Molinero and Ysàs, Sobrer, and Riquer).10 However, as both Guibernau and Riquer’s quotations have communicated, emotions and feelings are also important factors that 7 Montserrat Guibernau, “Nationalism and Intellectuals in Nations without States: the Catalan Case,” Working Papers 222 (Barcelona: Institut de Ciències Polítiques i Socials, 2003), 25. 8 Borja de Riquer, Identitats contemporànies: Catalunya i Espanya (Vic: Eumo, 2000), 219. 9 Carme Molinero and Pere Ysàs, La cuestión catalana: Cataluña en la transición española (Barcelona: Crítica, 2014), 239. 10 Albert Balcells, Catalan Nationalism (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1996); Sebastian Balfour and Alejandro Quiroga, The Reinvention of Spain (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007); Daniel Conversi, The Basques, the Catalans and Spain: Alternative Routes to Nationalist Mobilisation (Reno & Las Vegas: University of Nevada Press, 1997); Kathryn Crameri, Goodbye Spain?: The Question of Independence for Catalonia (East Sussex, England: Sussex Academic Press, 2014); Andrew Dowling, Catalonia since the Spanish Civil War: reconstructing the nation (Portland, OR: Sussex Academic Press, 2013); Montserrat Guibernau, Catalan Nationalism: Francoism, Transition and Democracy (London: Routledge, 2004); Clare Mar-Molinero and Angel Smith, (eds.), Nationalism and the nation in the Iberian Peninsula: Competing and Conflicting Identities (Oxford: Berg, 1996); Kenneth McRoberts, Catalonia: Nation Building Without a State (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001); Molinero and Ysàs, La cuestión catalana; Josep Miquel Sobrer, Catalonia: a Self-Portrait (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1992); and Riquer, Identitats contemporànies. 19 have an impact on nationalism and national identity through a process that Alejandro Quiroga explained as the personalization of the nation, the link between nationalism and national identity.11 Anthony D. Smith shares this perspective, understanding emotions as a sort of primer for nationalism and, through extension, the nonverbal side of national “fabrication/ invention/ [and] manipulation.”12 This investigation does not pretend to analyze the different forms or shifting nature of twentieth and twenty-first century Catalan nationalism. Instead, it seeks to identify how the work of Tàpies is, and has been, attached to the idea of Catalonia. Few art historians have examined the relation between the nation and modern art in Spain. Robert Lubar conceptualized Miró’s artistic career as moving from a cataloging of Catalan country life to an exploration of the act of painting and how minimal his subjects could become before they would loose their ideological weight.13 Lubar expressed Miró’s vacillation between the antiquated and the modern as the artist’s “desire to come to terms with traditional Catalan values and international (European) artistic impulses.”14 Miró’s early works show a longing for an appropriate visual language to communicate a contemporary Catalan “essence.”15 Robin Greeley reversed Lubar’s terms, claiming that Miró’s early use of representation to create a modern cultural identity was inverted in the artist’s work after 1923; Catalan identity became the subject and the act of representation turned into the agent.16 Miró sought to construct a visual notion of what it means to be Catalan. However, Lubar reminded us that the artist’s first solo exhibition at Galeries Dalmau in Barcelona was a failure. The public ridiculed and criticized the works of art, which catalyzed Miró’s move to Paris 11 Alejandro Quiroga, “The Three Spheres. A theoretical model of mass nationalization: the case of Spain,” Nations and Nationalism 20:4 (2014), 693. 12 Ludger Mees, “Emociones en política. Conceptos, debates y perspectivas analíticas,” Emoción e identidad nacional: Cataluña y el País Vasco en perspectiva comparada, Géraldine Galeote, Maria Llombart Huesca, and Maitane Ostolaza (eds.), (Paris: Édicions Hispaniques, 2015): 25-45, 40. See: Anthony D. Smith, Chosen Peoples. Sacred Sources of National Identity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003). 13 Robert Lubar, “Joan Miró before ‘The Farm,’ 1915-1922: Catalan Nationalism and the Avant-garde” (Ph.D. diss., New York University, 1988) and “Miró’s Linguistic Nationalism” Cent Anys de Miró, Mompou i Foix (Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona, 1994). 14 Lubar, “Joan Miró before ‘The Farm’...,” xvii. 15 Rosalind Krauss and Margit Rowell, Joan Miró: The Magnetic Fields (New York: Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, 1972), 84. 16 Robin Greeley, “Nationalism, Civil War and Painting: Joan Miró and Catalanisme in the 1930’s” (Paper presented at the University of Michigan, 1996), 76. Greely also analyzes both Spanish and Mexican nationalism with her examination of surrealist paintings during the civil war in Spain and Maria Izquierdo’s paintings that affectively provided an alternative to the popular “big three” muralists in post-revolutionary Mexico. See:Surrealism and the Spanish Civil War (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006) and “Painting Mexican Identities: Nationalism and Gender in the work of María Izquierdo,” Oxford Art Journal (2000). 20 shortly after.17 Barcelona’s art patrons proved to be too conservative for the young artist during the first years of his professional career. In 1948, two years before Tàpies’s first solo exhibition at Galeries Laietanes in Barcelona, the two artists met for the first time.18 This encounter brought together two men, of different generations, with similar goals. Both sought to push modern painting to its limits without loosing sight of their Catalan identities. The former Director of the Fundació Antoni Tàpies, Manuel Borja-Villel, explained that Tàpies had direct access to a number of Miró’s works through the collection of Joan Prats. Furthermore, Tàpies greatly admired Miró’s ability to manipulate the materials with which he worked. For Tàpies, Miró’s art was both powerful and convincing, an embodiment of both modernity and the avant-garde.19 Scholarship concerning Tàpies is limited. American authors often discuss the formal aspects of his art and regard him as a European artist working within Informalism, an artistic movement that developed in the 1940s around the same time as Abstract Expressionism (Lubar, Mayhew, and Fishman).20 Little work has been done that analyzes the social role of Tàpies’s work and his foundation in Barcelona. In 1995 Lubar expressed the need for more dedication to Tàpies after what he deemed was a mediocre retrospective exhibition in New York. In a review of the show, the art historian discussed the role that the Catalan artist played in shaping two generations of artists. Through his creation of a unique style and his experimentation with nontraditional media, Tàpies served as a model for younger international artists looking to break away from Surrealism and later Abstract Expressionism. As Lubar pointed out at the end of the review in a frank and disappointed tone, “Antoni Tàpies deserves far more.”21 While there are countless exhibition essays about Tàpies’s works, critical examinations of his creations and their importance (both plastic and social) are far from developed. A couple of the more developed exhibition texts include Lluis Permanyer’s from the 1986 Tàpies y la nueva cultura and Laurence Rassel’s from the 2013 Tàpies From Within.22 These presentations 17 Lubar, “Joan Miró before ‘The Farm,’ 1915-1922: Catalan Nationalism and the Avant-garde,” 116. 18 Barbara Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies (Munich: PrestelVerlag, 1991), 24. 19 Manuel Borja-Villel, “Antoni Tàpies: Pintura matérica y surrealismo,” Kalías 2 (October 1989: 82-95), 83-85. 20 Robert Lubar “Antoni Tàpies Recent Works,” (New York: Pace Gallery, 1993) and “Tàpies. New York,” The Burlington Magazine 137;1105 (1995); Jonathan Mayhew “Valente/Tàpies: The Poetics of Materiality” Anales de la literatura española contemporánea 22;1/1 (1997); George Fishman, “Antoni Tàpies elevates consciousness and conscience in PAMM exhibit,” Miami Herald, March 13, 2015, accessed March 23, 2015, http://www.miamiherald.com/entertainment/visual-arts/article14061947.html. 21 Lubar, “Tàpies. New York,” 273. 22 Lluís Permanyer, Tàpies y la nueva cultura (Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1986); Laurence Rassel, Tàpies From Within 1945-2011 (Barcelona: Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2013). 21 introduced particular works of each exhibition to the general public. Both are accurate accounts, yet not particularly reflective. Similarly, many articles published in numerous periodicals have followed Tàpies’s long career, however they only scratch the surface of the political implications associated with his works of art. While contemporary newspaper articles have not generally addressed this particular topic that I am concerned with, they have provided much insight on the different ways in which the artist was conjured and represented, in order to bolster underlying and even invented arguments that have to do with Catalonia and Spain. For example, ABC detailed Tàpies’s 1990 Premio Príncipe de Asturias award using a quotation from an artist and member of the jury Javier Mariscal. The newspaper printed Mariscal’s statement that Tàpies “has always made works that are very European, and, above all, very Spanish,”23 without any sort of clarification to what exactly “very European” or “very Spanish” artwork actually means. Mariscal also stated that it is impossible to understand the artwork of Miquel Barceló without comprehending Tàpies. While there are countless examples of the proud projection of Tàpies as Spanish or Catalan and sometimes both, little work has been done to investigate how the artist’s works of art have been presented in Spain and abroad. Later, I will discuss in greater detail how different sources in the media have interpreted Tàpies’s identity. Director of the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía (Reina Sofía) Manuel BorjaVillel’s 1989 doctoral thesis is the most outstanding study concerning Tàpies and the formal characteristics of his works of art. The unpublished work discussed the Matter Paintings in depth and includes a comprehensive catalogue of exhibitions, publications, and an interview with the artist. 24 Matter painting was a term coined in the 1950s to describe a technique of combining alternative materials (such as sand, mud, marble dust etc.) with a think layer of paint in order to achieve a desired texture.25 Borja-Villel was the first to approach these paintings from an academic perspective. In the same year, he also published an article in Kalías that examined the relationship between Tàpies and Surrealism. Kalías was a biannual magazine edited by the Generalitat de Valencia and the Institut Valencià d’Art Modern that ran from 1989 to 2002. The 23 “Antoni Tàpies galardonado con el Príncipe de Asturias de las Artes por su ‘riesgo creativo y capacidad innovadora,’” ABC (Sevilla), May 19, 1990, 61, accessed June 13, 2016, http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/sevilla/abc.sevilla/1990/05/19/061.html. 24 Manuel Borja-Villel, “Antoni Tàpies: The ‘Matter Paintings’” (Doctoral Thesis, City University of New York, 1989). There is a version of the unpublished text in the Fundació Antoni Tàpies Library. 25 “Matter Painting,” Tate, accessed May 17, 2015, http://www.tate.org.uk/learn/online-resources/glossary/m/matterpainting. 22 magazine printed scholarship on art theory, analysis, and criticism. In the second edition, BorjaVillel argued that Tàpies’s affinity with Miró’s work did not terminate with the end of his surrealist compositions in the 1950s and he discussed how the Matter Paintings purposefully play with the push and pull between the foreground and the background. 26 This is something that Miró also did, which effectively creates a confusion of conceivable space. Borja-Villel has not published a tremendous quantity of work concerning Tàpies, however, his writings are the most thoughtful. As he stated in 2009 in an article published in El País, Tàpies “is not a Spanish invention, but an artist whose work is fundamental in order to understand other works of art created during the second half of the twentieth century.”27 Still, Borja-Villel’s examinations stayed close to the works of art and within the conventional boundaries of art history. He has not delved into the social and political ramifications of the work as this study does. Furthermore, although he did discuss Tàpies’s recycling of Miró’s use of letters and signs in the Kalías article, he missed one of the most significant iconographic connections, the cross, which I will elaborate on in the following chapter. Polígrafa has published the great deal of books concerning Tàpies, far outnumbering any other publisher, for example: Alexandre Cirici’s Tàpies: Testimoni del silenci, José CorredorMatheos’s Antoni Tàpies: materia, signo, espíritu, and Andreas Franzke’s Tàpies.28 The Barcelona-based company that was founded in 1964 has contributed to Tàpies’s exposure in and beyond Catalonia through texts written in Catalan, Spanish, and English. Polígrafa also published (together with Fundació Antoni Tàpies) eight volumes of the artist’s complete works, available in Catalan, Spanish, English, and French. Many of Polígrafa’s publications have addressed Tàpies’s connection to Catalonia, especially Pere Gimferrer’s 1975 Tàpies and the Catalan Spirit. However, more than four decades have passed since the poet from Barcelona wrote this book and this investigation provides an updated, more nuanced, and less partial perspective on the artist’s relationship to Catalonia. European publications have tended to point out the artist’s Catalan heritage, biographical history, ethical values, and artistic inspiration (Borja-Villel, Catior, Cirici, Corredor-Matheos, Dupin, Agustí, Enguita Mayo, Miquel Tàpies, Franzke, Gasch, Gimferrer, Penrose, Permanyer, 26 Borja-Villel, “Antoni Tàpies: Pintura matérica y surrealismo,” 84; 91-92. 27 Barbara Ceus, “Tàpies, más allá de la pintura,” El País, May 18, 2009. 28 Alexandre Cirici, Tàpies: Testimoni del silenci (Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1974); José Corredor-Matheos, Antoni Tàpies: materia, signo, espíritu (Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1992); Andreas Franzke, Tàpies (Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1992). 23 Rassel, and Tapié).29 Few investigations have analyzed the political implications of Tàpies’s art. Barbara Catoir questioned the artist about his personal beliefs in her 1991 Conversations with Antoni Tàpies and his responses were almost as ambivalent as his canvases. In addition to examinations of the formal aspects of the artist’s works and his artistic career, newspaper articles featuring Tàpies were bountiful, particularly in the early 1990s. While Tàpies himself also wrote extensively about his work, he ultimately said quite little about how to read his pictures.30 His difficult style and purposeful ambiguity make it challenging to pin down any objective meaning, which is one of the reasons that more scholastic attention should be dedicated to the artist and how his artworks are presented to the public. In Tàpies and the Catalan Sprit Gimferrer boldly announced “the work of Antoni Tàpies is now at a beginning of a future that belongs to it.”31 With this statement, the poet demonstrated his regard for Tàpies’s work and confidence in his artistic career. Similar to the belated public recognition of works by Gaudí, Miró and the Catalan poet J.V. Foix, Gimferrer predicted in 1975 that Tàpies’s work was at the beginning of a similar path.32 Furthermore, he established a parallel relation that linked Miró and Foix with Tàpies and Joan Brossa as two different generations of avant-garde artists and poets that best represented what he called the “Catalan spirit.”33 Gimferrer, despite his romantic ideas about the essence of Catalonia, accurately pointed out that Tàpies’s work ought to be considered using a bilateral perspective in relation to the regional culture; it is important to consider how Catalan culture shaped Tàpies’s art and how Tàpies’s art instates itself in the trajectory of that culture.34 Gimferrer’s analysis is now dated, as he wrote the text under Francoism. After nearly 40 years of democracy in Spain, an updated evaluation of the artist’s relationship to culture in Catalonia will shed light on the evolving nature of this relation. Recent nationalist activity, including a popular separatist movement, in the region further 29 Manuel Borja-Villel, “Antoni Tàpies: The ‘Matter Paintings’” and Fundació Antoni Tàpies (Barcelona: Edicions de l’Eixample, 1990); Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies; Alexandre Cirici, Tàpies: Testimoni del silenci; José Corredor-Matheos, Antoni Tàpies: materia, signo; Jacques Dupin, Matiere d’infini (Tours: Farrago, 2005); Anna Agustí, Nuria Enguita Mayo and Miquel Tàpies, Tàpies. Obra completa. Volum 8è. 1998-2004 (Barcelona: Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2006); Andreas Franzke, Tàpies; Sebastian Gasch, Tàpies (Madrid: Dirección General de Bellas Artes, 1971); Pere Gimferrer, Tàpies and the Catalan Spirit (Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1975); Roland Penrose, Tàpies (Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1977); Permanyer, Tàpies y la nueva cultura; Rassel, Tàpies From Within 1945-2011; Michel Tapié, Antoni Tàpies (Milan: Fratelli Fabbri, 1969). 30 Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies. 31 Gimferrer, Tàpies and the Catalan Spirit, 82. 32 Ibid., 81. 33 Ibid., 36. 34 Ibid., 31. 24 complicates the exhibition politics surrounding Tàpies’s works. New assessments of his compositions are necessary as Spain enters a new era of history. Although the artist passed away in 2012, his visual language has been very much alive in Barcelona in the years following his death. This investigation provides a fresh perspective on Tàpies and the relationship between visual art and national politics. 1.3 Hypotheses This investigation opens a new debate concerning the political role of art in society. Using Tàpies and Catalonia as a case study, I propose several hypotheses. First, the artist’s work became iconic for a population at a unique moment in time, ironically enabling the artist to prosper during the 1970s. The beginning of Tàpies’s career coincided with an era of political repression in Spain and a time when abstraction was internationally recognized as a valuable vehicle for political expression within the art world. This moment was critical in the early formation of the artist and his style; it allowed him to create politically charged, semi-abstract art in the 1950s and 1960s that would become respected around the globe without drawing too much attention from General Francisco Franco’s regime. Beginning with his Matter Paintings, Tàpies used art as a means of political communication. His objectives were not always clear, but as a whole he sought to defend democracy, justice, and freedom through his works of art. Unlike Picasso or Miró, Tàpies lived in Spain during and after the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939). The style that Tàpies developed in post-war Spain allowed him to continue living there because his ideas were not necessarily explicitly expressed in visual terms. Picasso, on the other hand, denounced Francisco Franco and his conservative ideology in his grotesque 1937 etchings titled Sueño y mentira de Franco; Picasso was living in France when he made these compositions and he never returned to Spain again. Although Tàpies experienced the war as a young boy, he remained in Catalonia afterwards. The conditions in which he developed his artistic style did not allow him to be as bold as Picasso had been in 1937. Tàpies had to be careful; he astutely avoided concrete political imagery during the 1950s and 1960s while simultaneously developing an inventive body of work that was relevant in an international panorama of visual arts. Tàpies continued to work in the same style 25 throughout the remainder of his artistic career, producing an impressive body of thousands of artworks that have maintained a tremendous stylistic continuity. Second, the Generalitat de Catalunya and the Ajuntament de Barcelona played a major role in promoting the artist within the region and sought to present Tàpies as a model Catalan citizen both during and after his lifetime. However, each group did so in their own way. While both bodies championed Tàpies as one of the most reputable living artist in Spain during the 1980s, their reasons for taking interest in the artwork was disparate. Jordi Pujol and his conservative coalition Convergència i Unió (CiU) ran the Generalitat from 1980 to 2003. CiU’s nationalist program worked in harmony with the commission and financial support that the Generalitat offered Tàpies during this period. Tàpies’s relationship with the regional government was mutually beneficial despite the artist’s leftist political views. The Generalitat was happy to promote the internationally acclaimed artist who articulated his Catalan heritage and the artist embraced the institution’s initiatives to expose his work. The Ajuntament, on the other hand, was controlled by a socialist party, Partit dels Socialistes de Catalunya (PSC), which promoted Tàpies as a contemporary, vanguard artist with an international profile and encouraged him via financial aid, public commissions, and exhibition publications. The local government was eager to project Barcelona’s modernity, especially in the years leading up to the 1992 Olympic Games held in the Cuidad Condal. Tàpies and his foundation played a role in the transformation of the city in the years prior to the event. For the Ajuntament de Barcelona, Tàpies’s value did not necessarily lie in his Catalan roots, instead he was espoused for his artistic ingenuity, developed during a time when many of Spain’s talented artists and intellectuals remained abroad as a result of the war and ensuing dictatorship. The institutional support that Tàpies received is remarkable. This is most evident through his public works and posthumous exhibitions that have honored his life and artistic career. Investigating the connection between the artist and these major political bodies is imperative in order to visualize a top-down and bottom-up model of cultural analysis in Catalonia. Tàpies’s career certainly benefited from the relationships that he built with local and regional governments in Spain. Interestingly, his discernable artistic style was created in response to a lack of a democratic system in Catalonia. The artwork itself ought to belong to a bottom-up conceptualization of culture, however its public exhibition and patronage were often tied to systems of power. The artist’s continual representation of his particular style, coupled with an 26 analysis of the nature of institutional support that Tàpies received, amplifies more traditional studies primarily concerning the formal characteristics of his works. Third, contemporary shows that have included Tàpies’s work are subject to misinterpretation of the artist’s ideologies, specifically the representation of art that may concern Catalonia’s relationship to Spain. A greater understanding of the artist’s life and work is needed in order to preserve the artwork’s integrity and to avoid misconceptions in addition to generalizations. The exhibition practices of cultural institutions like MNAC are always political and play an active role in the conception and negotiation of Catalan identity from within and from the outside. Learning at this museum is not limited to visitors living in the region. This institution has also sought to present ideas about art and society to ‘foreign’ visitors from other parts of Spain, Europe, and beyond. While there does not seem to be a model that could eliminate political sway from public exhibitions, being aware of the underlying structures of power that envelop cultural institutions is an important part of viewing works of art. Finally, political art is an often-overlooked avenue that channels ideas about historical and contemporary identity. National identity is amongst one of the most powerful (albeit frequently veiled) themes in Tàpies’s artwork. It is a theme that continues to resonate with some Catalan citizens that have been seeking new ways to govern themselves during the past decade. In examining the ways in which art can trigger emotional and intellectual responses, a heightened awareness of our own responses to outside stimuli becomes evident. Emotions can be the “motor behind individual and collective conduct”, despite the difficulties that historians may face in their definition and analysis.35 Furthermore, an analysis of the way in which objects that often trigger emotions are presented also exposes the political power structures that frequently affect how beholders experience works of art. The scale of a work of art does not have to correlate with its degree of engagement with political affairs. It is true that large artworks that take up political themes do so in a grandiose manner; for example, Picasso’s Guernica or works by the ‘big three’ Mexican muralists Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco and David Alfaro Siqueiros. However, size does not determine the quality of engagement with societal concerns that an artwork is able to transmit. Different formats are able to convey various viewpoints. For example, the form of Goya’s series of etchings The Disasters of War has little in common with any large-scale painting. They are small, 35 Mees, “Emociones en política. Conceptos, debates y perspectivas analíticas,” 37. 33 same time to enrich Tàpies’s universe with elements linking it to the art of the past.”60 The image that accompanied the text that announced the show subtly introduced an intermediary figure in the chain of Catalan artists (figure 1). Hanging from a rope that splits the canvas in half, the red wool peasant’s hat (barretina) links the art of Tàpies to his compatriot Miró. The earth colored background, which supports the stagnant pendulum that the rope and hat create, is a recycled medieval piece, which echoes the colors of the Romanesque works celebrated at the museum. Figure 1Antoni Tàpies, detail from Pintura romànica i barretina, 1971 60 Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, Tàpies. From Within, accessed July 21, 2014, http://museunacional.cat/en/tapies-within-3. 34 Walls, time, and tradition are all themes that Tàpies’s Pintura romànica i barretina embody. The 1971 artwork, in the context of this 2013-2014 exhibition, recapitulated the idea that the aesthetics of Catalonia are unique and traceable to a distant past. Ideologically bonding contemporary images with those of the past is a nationalist tactic that seeks to disguise a complex national history as a neat fusion of linear history. The image, as MNAC displayed in the exhibition, exemplifies Billig’s concept of banal nationalism, as the barretina is physically and ideologically tied to a historic work of art from the same imagined community. Pintura romànica i barretina embodies the central themes of this investigation. Tàpies’s unique style, which the French critic Michel Tapié described in the 1950s as “art autre” [other art], was a response to avant-garde artistic movements developing both in Europe and in the United States during the twentieth century. Geometric Abstraction and Abstract Expressionism were inadequate modes for what Tàpies’s creations sought to accomplish. What Tapié once coined as other art, Martine Heredia categorized as Informalism, an artistic style that is not a trend with limits, but an enduring alternative to parallel movements developing after the Second World War.61 This canvas contains informalist elements; it is minimalist, pared down to a few essential components that are recognizable yet organized in an unordinary fashion. His rejection of conventional beauty in favor of a worn, highly textured, and dirty aesthetic forces the viewer to think beyond the surface of his art. The light brown, decaying background from an original Romanesque piece of little value and an old rope are not necessarily beautiful. However, his commitment to political subjects demonstrates the artist’s dedication to support a democratic and peaceful community, which he clarified in a number of his written works and published interviews.62 Without that artist’s written statements, much of his art would be rather unapproachable. 63 His extensive writing, however, bolsters the philosophical depth of his canvases. The red hat has historically been identified with peasants in Catalonia. Here, it is in an 61 Martine Heredia, Tàpies, Saura, Millares: L’art informel en Espange (Paris: Presses Universitarires Vincennes, 2013), 8. 62 See: Antoni Tàpies, Complete Writings Volume I. A Personal Memoir: Fragments for an Autobiography (Barcelona: Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2009a), Complete Writings Volume II. Collected Essays (Barcelona: Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2009b), El tatuaje y el cuerpo: Antoni Tàpies conversaciones con Manuel Borja-Villel (Barcelona: Rosa Cúbica, 2005); and Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies. 63 Tàpies, in an interview with Barbara Catoir, spoke about why he decided to begin writing about his work: “...the reason why I took up the pen was that I wanted to state my point of view in a Catalan magazine at a time when the entire cultural life of Barcelona was dominated by a single prominent critic, Alexandre Cirici... to show young artists and younger people in general who were interested in art that Cirici’s pontifications were not the only legitimate options.” Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies, 108. 35 awkward position, without an owner, the hat is separated from an ordinary place. It is an antiportrait. We are left to wonder whose hat that is and why it wound up tied from a rope. Ambiguity is one of Tàpies’s trademarks, which he used to invite spectators, allowing them freedom to engage and learn with minimal restraints. Pintura romànica i barretina could be a play on Miró’s Cap de pagès català paintings (figures 2 and 3). These portraits from 1925 are highly simplified compositions that are just as much about the act of representation as they are about Catalan peasants. Tàpies’s picture can also be read as the aftermath of a hanging, the quiet, spooky wake of an intolerable and dramatic means of punishment. The hanging red hat could take on the role of an inert pendulum, frozen in time. The inability to pin down one specific vision of Tàpies’s red barretina dangling from a rope, and countless other works, is an intentional tactic that seeks to provoke reflection. Informalism, political content, and ambiguity Figure 2Joan Miró, Cap de pagès català, 1925, Penrose collection, London (left) Figure 3Joan Miró, Cap de pagès català, 1925, Collection Gerard Bonnier, Stockholm (right) 36 are all elements that run through the extensive oeuvre of Tàpies. Furthermore, themes of time and space are often employed and important in the consideration of different exhibitions of the artist’s works, which will encourage new readings of pictures such as Pintura romànica i barretina. Using a theoretical foundation from James C. Scott’s Dominance and the Art of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts, it becomes clear as to why Tàpies made thousands of surprisingly similar compositions over the course of his lifetime. Scott’s theory concerns power relations and the behind-the-scenes dynamic that exists before a public denunciation against a dominant power.64 While Scott’s examples concern tactics such as coded language, storytelling and rumors, art is a type of visual language that can contribute to the culture of each position within a disparate social situation. Plastic art communicates ideas that can alter opinions, perceptions, and shift perspectives. Read alongside Scott’s framework, Tàpies’s oeuvre could be understood as an elusive yet fierce denunciation of the Franco regime. What Dominance and the Art of Resistance left out, however, is what happens after a dramatic public rebuke or shift in power. After the death of the dictator, who had led Spain’s government for the better part of Tàpies’s life, how did his developed transcript change throughout the transition to democracy and into the 1980s? Style is a key component in any artist’s work and Tàpies’s style, remarkably, did not waver during this period. Homi Bhabha’s theory concerning nations and nationalism has also been a valuable tool for analysis. I have investigated the relationship between Tàpies and Catalan society, the history of the region as well as the artist’s ideas concerning its future. The artist, as a member of the Catalan community, used art to communicate his political identity and desires in a strategic manner. While Bhabha looked to literature to demonstrate how the idea of the nation is conceived of and perpetuated in literary terms, his ideas are applicable in the plastic arts.65 Tàpies, like Miró before him, engaged with a multiplicity of times, “Janus-faced” times that contribute to the idea that the nation is a physical (as opposed to ideological) entity that simultaneously looks towards both a grand history and unified future, as Tom Nairn suggested.66 For Bhabha, these double times have been expressed in literature as what he coined as the 64 James C. Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1990). 65 Homi Bhabha, Nation and Narration (New York: Routledge, 1990). 66 Tom Nairn, The Break up of Britain: Crisis and Neo-Nationalism (London: New Left Books, 1977). 37 “pedagogical” and “performative,” strategic elements that ultimately enable the ability of national myths to flourish in the contemporary imagination. Tàpies made works of art that fuse these elements. This study will illuminate how national tales concerning the past and future of Catalonia have impacted the artist and his work. I bridge Murray Edelman’s discussion of how meaning is produced through the structures of certain spaces and Tim Edensor’s argument concerning national spaces and places in order to critically examine public works of art that Tàpies created during the 1990s and into the first few years of the twenty-first century.67 This is something that has not yet been explored regarding Tàpies’s work. It is both an interesting and relevant topic because the artist did not accept just any sort of commission and the location of his exhibitions primed viewers in different ways. Both physical and geographic spaces are critical factors to analyze regarding Tàpies’s work. He deliberately chose to show in and around Barcelona while collaborating to create exhibitions beyond his birthplace, most frequently in Paris or New York City. His public works, typically rather large in scale, have created previously nonexistent environments which, in turn, affect the ways in which individuals understand the function of those particular spaces. The formal characteristics of Tàpies’s artworks are only part of the bigger picture, which includes the ways in which visual material is accessible to beholders. This study critically examines the content and context of public works and exhibitions and how their spatial distribution and geographic location affect the ways in which the artist’s work has been presented to the public. Concepts that Anderson, Billig, Gellner, Hobsbawm, and Quiroga have worked to define form the foundation of my methodology, which engages with theories proposed by Berger, Billig, Bhabha, Edelman, Edensor, Quiroga, and Scott. Art historical investigations published by Conversi, Lubar, and McCarthy have served as models that critically examine the relations between the visual arts and politics. My method of analysis includes traditional art historical formal analyses of particular works of art, sociopolitical contextualization of those works, and the application of several theories to demonstrate the direct and bilateral relationship between art and politics. This is a way to provide a more comprehensive examination of the art of Antoni Tàpies while situating his body of work outside the traditional art historical perspective. As Sabina Mihelj discussed in Media Nations, culture cannot be understood as a “mere by-product 67 Edelman, From Art to Politics; Edensor, National Identity, Popular Culture and Everyday Life. 38 of power relationships.”68 The study of art and culture should not become isolated from wider sociopolitical contexts. Finally, The perspective of this investigation stems from Ferran Archilés’s and Miguel Ángel del Arco Blanco’s works. Both have outlined constructive ways to comprehend history. Archilés emphasized the shared relationships between historical perspective, the cultural arena, and the national experience in an article that examines the languages and experiences of the nation and the processes of nationalization.69 He explained that culture structures what an individual considers normal, correct, novel, or valuable; culture also structures the way that that person understands their relationship to the abstract idea of the nation. This relates to artistic exhibitions as a form of cultural expression that citizens are exposed to, particularly in metropolitan areas. Culture is not limited to the arts, but also deals with how individuals go about their daily lives and make sense of their experiences. Archilés’s ideas help explain why some individuals may perceive a Tàpies show as a form of nationalization, while others may see the same show as having little to do with the idea of the nation. In a historiographical chapter on Cultural Studies, del Arco wrote how the discipline utilizes particular viewpoints to examine the interactions between culture, power, and society. Historians, he stated, ought to keep this in mind as they write history.70 While history tends to focus on realities of the past, the interdisciplinary nature of cultural studies allows for greater attention to both historical realities and fictions. In order to accurately represent the past, del Arco expressed that we must take into consideration two narratives: the ‘realist’ history that is pieced together using primary sources and the world of fiction and imagination which permits reality to seep in.71 Art engages in both of these realms. However, attention is too often focused on the creative and imaginary aspect of visual culture. I am not solely interested in the imaginative spaces that Tàpies created from unusual materials like marble dust; I also want to explain some of the real political processes that conditioned the ways in which Tàpies worked. 68 Sabina Mihelj, Media Nations: Communicating Belonging and Exclusion in the Modern World (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 10. 69 Ferran Archilés, “Lenguajes de nación. Las ‘experiencias de nación’ y los procesos de nacionalización: propuestas para un debate,” Ayer 90; 2 (2013), 100. 70 Miguel Ángel del Arco Blanco, “Un paso más allá de la historia cultural: los cultural studies,” Teresa María Ortega López, (ed.), Por una historia global. El debate historiográfico en los últimos tiempos (Granada: Universidad de Granada, 2007), 20. 71 Ibid., 13. 39 This study combines Archilés and del Arco’s approaches to analyze history, both of which focus on culture and its polyvalent nature in order to cognize the past. However, the limits of this sort of analysis have to do with the subjectivity of images and the fact that personal experiences affect how individuals respond emotionally and interpret visual material in different spaces, places, and moments in time. Museums and galleries create a space where visitors can think about and criticize artworks, but visitors may not consider what specific cultural and historical perspectives affect the way that they experience art; they may not reflect on the institution that created the exhibition and how it structures knowledge; finally, they may not separate the ‘real’ (historical) from the imaginary (fiction) while viewing works of art in a museum setting or controlled environment. In analyzing the multiple layers at work in the context of an artistic exhibition, it becomes possible to expose unforeseen or subtle ways in which images impact the conception of beholder’s ideas and identities in addition to their relationship to the society in which they live. 1.5 Sources “The Visualization of a Nation: Tàpies and Catalonia” is a multidisciplinary study that draws from art history, theories of nationalism, political science, and social theories. Primary sources include artworks, artist statements, interviews, exhibition publications, media publications, public education textbooks, public records, and public surveys. Researching in the archive and library at the Fundació Antoni Tàpies has been an essential part of this investigation. Not only does the library include all of Tàpies’s own works and writings, it also includes books and documents from his personal collection. The archive preserves copies of newspaper articles, comics, exhibition material, photographs, and unpublished sketches from various projects. The tremendous quantity of articles from different periodicals, particularly from the early 1990s, is astonishing. Going through many of these publications has been a remarkably time-consuming yet ultimately rewarding experience. Although this archive has been fundamental to this investigation, it lacks much information about Tàpies’s public works. I hoped to find documents regarding public commissions, contracts, contracts, and preliminary sketches but was disappointed to find that the Fundació Antoni Tàpies does not currently hold this sort of 40 information. Furthermore, some of his public works are not actually accessible to the public. The foundation used to organize visits through Barcelona that would allow people to see such works that pertain to the Generalitat and Universitat Pompeu Fabre, but they no longer do this. The foundation appointed Charles Guerra as their new director in 2015 and it will be interesting to see what sort of changes he proposes for the institution in the coming years. Other archives in the Catalan capital have been fruitful, particularly that of the Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona (MACBA), the Arxiu Fotogràfic de Barcelona, and the Arxiu Històric de la Ciutat de Barcelona. MACBA’s archive includes more than a dozen letters and postcards that Tàpies wrote to his friend, a Catalan poet, Joan Brossa. What is remarkable about their correspondences is that they discussed ideas above all else. MACBA also has letters from Brossa to Tàpies, in which he wrote about his thoughts and feelings concerning literary and aesthetic styles. The photographic archive preserves a significant number of original black and white images of the artist and his family, many of which had been published in periodicals during the 1980s and 1990s. The Centre d’Estudis d’Opinió has published results from their surveys online, which has been a useful way to measure public opinions concerning the nation of Catalonia and how its citizens feel about its relationship to Spain. The Generalitat de Catalunya has sent me information concerning financial contributions that the regional government has made to fund the Fundació Antoni Tàpies, but has not been helpful in answering my questions regarding contracts that were made between the Generalitat and the artist. When asked about information related to commissioned works from the 1990s, civil servants working for the Generalitat were unable to find answers to basic questions. New York art gallery Dia:Beacon, Bilbao’s Guggenheim Museum, and MNAC have all provided valuable information and statistics concerning the attendance of various exhibitions. Secondary sources consist of art historical scholarship, political and social histories of Catalonia, historical and social theories, articles and comics from periodicals, magazine publications, documentaries, websites, and interviews. Academic sources concerning Tàpies are scarce and many of the publications that have accompanied exhibitions and introductory essays in the eight volumes of Tàpies’s complete works have been written by just a few different authors (Agustí, Combalía, Enguita Mayo, Permanyer, and Miquel Tàpies). Tàpies often appeared in national periodicals such as: ABC, Ara, Avui, Diari de Barcelona, El Mundo, El 41 Observador, El País, Punt Diari, El Periódico, and La Vanguardia. International papers also covered some stories about the artist and his work such as Miami Herald, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal. Finally, I have found useful information in magazines such as Artinfo, The Burlington Magazine, Destino, Goya, and Kalías. These sorts of contemporary accounts have played a major role in my analysis, specifically related to Tàpies’s public works. The Fundació Antoni Tàpies has preserved a great quantity of press related to the artist, although I have also accessed many of these periodicals through their online databases. Documentaries and other films about the life and work of Antoni Tàpies have also informed this study. Gregory Rood directed Tàpies, which was televised in 1990 in Catalonia and the United Kingdom.72 The film opens with Tàpies speaking in Catalan about how he believes that art is able to transform people’s consciences and vacillates between footage of the artist talking and working. Carolina Tubau directed the 2009 Te de Tàpies in collaboration with Televisió de Catalunya.73 Te de Tàpies focuses on the sources that the artist used and how he saw his work as connected to the natural world. Both documentaries have provided insight concerning the way in which Tàpies talked about his work, which is similar, but not exactly the same as the way in which he wrote about his art. Shortly after the artist passed away in 2012, Ateneu Barcelonès organized and filmed a series of lectures, En record d’Antoni Tàpies.74 The act included nearly a dozen different speakers (including artists and politicians, among others), who presented ideas about Tàpies, his art, and his legacy. On February 4, 2016 I interviewed the artist’s son, Toni Tàpies, in Barcelona.75 I also spoke with the current Director of MNAC Pepe Serra and politician Joan Guitart.76 Before becoming director of MNAC in 2011, Serra had worked: in MACBA’s curatorial department, for Fundació La Caixa, in the Generalitat’s Departament de Cultura, and as director of Barcelona’s Museu Picasso. Guitart worked in politics from 1978 to 1996. In the Generalitat, he led the department of education from 1980-1988 and the department de culture from 1988-1996. He went on to lead MNAC’s board of trustees from 1996-2004, while simultaneous serving as the Vice President of the Fundació Mútua General de Catalunya, a medical insurance company. The 72 Tàpies, Gregory Rood, (dir.), BBC and TVE Catalunya, 1990. 73 Te de Tàpies, Carolina Tubau, (dir.), Televisió de Catalunya, 2009. 74 En record d’Antoni Tàpies, Ateneu Barcelonès, March 3, 2012. 75 Interview with Toni Tàpies, February 4, 2016. See: Appendix A. 76 Interview with Pepe Serra on June 27, 2016 and Joan Guitart on July 12, 2016. 42 conversations I had with Toni Tàpies, Pepe Serra, and Joan Guitart have been vital to this investigation. Finally, the Biblioteca Nacional and the library at the Reina Sofía in Madrid have been excellent spaces to consult research material. Combining information from several archives and libraries ranging from various disciplines has allowed for a comprehensive analysis concerning Tàpies’s work and its social functions. Still, I was unsuccessful in finding adequate answers to a handful of questions. Most of these questions concern public works of art, contracts, commissions, and financial information. For example, the Arxiu Fotogràfic de Barcelona has a photograph of Tàpies signing an agreement with the Generalitat to create a large-scale work of art in 1989, but I have not been able to find any information concerning the conditions of that contract. Another unanswered question has to do with a proposal on behalf of the Ayuntamiento de Madrid for Tàpies to create a mural for the Madrid-Barajas airport. The artist refused to make the mural, although I have not found a single source that contains more specific details about the project. These types of questions are important for two major reasons: finding answers will enable a greater understanding of the intersections between art and politics in Spain and they involve information about public spending, which ought to be available to the public. An article from The New York Times that discusses new sculptures in Barcelona, as symbols of “civic pride” provides a hint of insight as to why some of my questions remain unanswered.77 In 1990, Edward Schumacher claimed in “Sculptures Are Changing the Look of Barcelona” that the city’s public art “...program still has no budget and no formal screening commission.... The money, taken from different city budgets as needed, is often said to come from what city officials call the ‘disaster budget’— a fund to undo what Franco did to the city.”78 If this was the case, it would explain why some of the contracts and financial information that I am interested in has proved impossible to find. However, there were, at some point, documents concerning Tàpies and the regional and local governments, which I believe still exist somewhere. 77 Edward Schumacher, “Sculptures Are Changing the Look of Barcelona,” The New York Times, September 4, 1990, accessed August 27, 2016, http://www.nytimes.com/1990/09/04/arts/sculptures-are-changing-the-look-ofbarcelona.html. 78 Ibid. 2 Unchanging in an Era of Change “Tàpies’s greatest achievement was la coherencia, in his works of art as well as his discourse.” Joan Guitart1 This chapter focuses on style and the indirect implications of politics made visible through art. Tàpies infused political ideology and cultural identity into his art before, during, and after the transition to democracy in Spain. Surprisingly, the formal characteristics of his artwork are tremendously consistent despite major sociopolitical transformations after the death of Franco in 1975. Was he ‘successful’ in communicating what he desired in visual terms? Not always. However, his characteristically dull and dirty compositions, upon which he established his international artistic career, did position Tàpies among the most admired of Catalan painters during the 1970s and 1980s. “Unchanging in an Era of Change” explores the stylistic uniformity of the artist. The first section outlines the early career of the artist and how he developed a groundbreaking style that stemmed from experimentations with Surrealism and the iconography of fellow Catalan artist, Joan Miró. The second section compares artworks created during the final five years of the Franco dictatorship with others made during and after the transition. The objective is to present an indepth analysis of Tàpies’s style using a holistic perspective in order to explain why his art looks the way that it does and how personal and sociopolitical circumstances shaped Tàpies’s early career. 1 Interview with Joan Guitart, July 12, 2016. Figure 7Photograph of Antoni Tàpies wearing a barretina, Diario de Barcelona March 14, 1976, Arxiu Fotográphic de Barcelona 50 2.1 From Surrealism to Informalism (1946-1956) In order to assess Tàpies’s style during the height of his career as a visual artist in the 1970s and 1980s, it is useful to first consider some of his early works. Before delving into some of the most productive years of his life, looking at a few of his first compositions will establish a foundation for the observation of art created during an era of great political change in Spain. This section highlights a handful of drawings and paintings that Tàpies created in the early stages of his career and serves to help situate the main concerns of this chapter, style and artworks produced during the 1970s and 1980s. There is a great distinction between Tàpies’s earliest works and what art historians refer to as his “Matter Paintings” 2 of the 1950s. In his doctoral thesis, Manuel Borja-Villel discussed the rupture between Tàpies’s “surrealist” compositions made from 1946 to 1953 and the origins of his trademark style from 1953 to 1956. At the beginning of his artistic career, Tàpies formed part of a group publishing an avant-garde magazine Dau al Set [Seventh Side of the Die], composed of the philosopher Arnau Puig, the poet Joan Brossa, and a number of other visual and musical artists, founded in 1948 in Barcelona. Tàpies’s involvement in this group certainly shaped some of his first artistic creations, not unlike Miró’s relationship with avant-garde circles before the Spanish Civil War. This is most evident in his works before 1954, as they often demonstrated affinity with surrealist and dadaist art. For example, Els solcs (1952, figure 8) depicts a head in profile with two outstretched arms; one is holding wheat and the other is clutching a sickle to cut it. A red blob connected to the top of the head is a stylized barretina. The wonky figure is hardly grounded in a flat, unrealistic landscape made from shapes in shades of gold and yellow. Four red stripes cut through the bottom of the canvas, simultaneously signifying the rows of crops in a tilled field and the stripes of the Catalan flag. This painting has little to do with Tàpies’s mature works. It is an example of his early attraction to Surrealism, a style in which he quickly abandoned. 2 For more on Tàpies’s early Matter Paintings, see: Borja-Villel, “Antoni Tàpies: The ‘Matter Paintings.’” 51 One of the reasons that Tàpies moved away from surrealist compositions was his friendship with Brossa, one of the founders of Dau al Set. The two men often exchanged ideas, some of are preserved as written correspondences. During the early 1950s Brossa and Tàpies wrote numerous letters and notes discussing artistic exhibitions, gallery tendencies, and future plans. One particularly intriguing postcard that Tàpies wrote on Christmas Day in 1950 has an image of Joan Miró’s 1947 L’oiseau comète et l’ombrelle fleurie (figure 9).3 On the backside of the card, he wished Brossa happy holidays and explained that he had written to him ten days ago, but the mail was returned to him. The most interesting component of this card is the artist’s signature. Tàpies replaced the first letter of his last name “T” with a pair of perpendicular lines intersecting to create four equal quadrants, “+”.4 Figure 9Antoni Tàpies, Postcard sent to Joan Brossa, December 25, 1950 (front with envelope and back), Arxiu MACBA 3 Antoni Tàpies letter to Joan Brossa, December 25, 1950, BROSSA_CORRES_PER_JB_BROSSA_00046_019, A.JBR.03528.020, L’Arxiu del Centre d’Estudis i documentació MACBA. 4 Both in December of 1950 and November of 1951, Brossa wrote letters to Tàpies using the “+” symbol with the remaining letters of the artist’s last name. The gesture could affirm (or possibly poke fun) at Tàpies’s own letters to Brossa and artworks containing the same sign (for example his 1950 self-portrait or his exhibition posters for the Galería Layetanas from the same year). Figure 8Antoni Tàpies, Els solcs, 1952 52 This sign, which Tàpies prolifically replicated in later works, is prominent in his newspaper collage Creu de paper de diari (1946-1947, figure 10) and his painted self-portrait (1950, figure 11). Catoir, speaking about the collage, claimed that this form “takes on an ambivalent symbolic significance,” yet she referenced the ancient art of orientation and the four points of the compass.5 The crossed lines of Creu de paper de diari, in Borja-Villel’s opinion, symbolized the fusion of the material and spiritual world, the physical realm represented in the form of a horizontal line and the ideological (or spiritual) via the vertical line.6 Tàpies was rather elusive when speaking about iconography in his own work. He discussed his early affinity for working in an “automatic, unconscious way.”7 At the same time, he has said that when he used a certain symbol, it was because it gave him pleasure.8 Art historians have verbalized various Figure 10Antoni Tàpies, Creu de paper de diari, 1946-1947 (left) Figure 11Antoni Tàpies, Autoretrat, 1950 (right) 5 Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies, 27. 6 Borja-Villel, Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 23. 7 Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies, 74. 8 Ibid., 74. 53 interpretations of the “+” symbol in Tàpies’s work. Some have seen it as a self-referential mark, like a signature, referring to the first letter of Tàpies or Teresa, his wife; others pinned a meaning that deals with the convergence of spiritual and physical domains.9 I argue that those two crossed lines are a reference to Miró and a pair of paintings that he made many years earlier, while working in Paris. In 1925 Miró worked on a series of paintings that demonstrate his commitment to experimentation in the process of art making. These images titled Cap de pagès català (figures 2 and 3) are paired down to a handful of signifying essentials. In the first, the barretina is connected only through a thin black line to the figure’s beard, shown as a triangular series of squiggly lines symmetrically centered on the canvas. Rosalind Krauss characterized the round, beady eyes as “radiating lines of vision” because of the various vectors that converge at their cores.10 Krauss also pointed out that these eyes are unequal in size, reading the painting as a “visual pun” that the artist created to the effect of an “imperceptible recession in space.”11 This is characteristic of Miró’s body of work at this time, as he was toying with different modes of vision with a number of different canvases. For example, the second painting also works to disrupt any normative sense of visual space and depth through the mark of the horizon line that doubles as an indicator of the peasant’s face. Robin Greeley convincingly argued that these images are about Miró’s explorations within the act of picture making, “the figure becomes the site of pictorial experiments as to how insubstantial a painted mark can be before it collapses under the significatory weight placed on it.”12 Both Cap de pagès català paintings open and close the depth of the canvas, depending on how the viewer reads the horizontal axis. At one point it signifies the infiniteness aspect of the horizon, but the same mark simultaneously grounds the floating peasant’s head. These canvases are intentionally ambiguous, provoking questions concerning their content and the processes of their creation. It was in Paris where Miró found a style that simultaneously worked against the conservative formalism of the noucentistas and illustrated his sense of Catalan identity.13 The 9 See: Jeremy Roe, Tàpies (New York: Parkstone Press Ltd., 2006), 69; Catior, Conversations with Tàpies, 27; Borja-Villel, Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 23. 10 Krauss and Rowell, Joan Miró: The Magnetic Fields, 84. 11 Ibid., 84. 12 Greeley, “Nationalism, Civil War and Painting: Joan Miró and Catalanisme in the 1930’s,” 25. 13 In 1906, Eugeni d’Ors i Rovira defined noucentisme though a series of daily columns in the newspaper La Veu de Catalunya. The main goal of the movement, with its title referencing the new century, was to develop a cohesive Catalan identity based on a collective culture. Backed by the right-winged party the Lliga Regionalista, noucentisme 54 forms of these “pictorial experiments” from 1925 are radically different from Miró’s illustrated works completed in Barcelona before he moved to Paris. Spending time abroad most likely changed his own conception of himself, his identification as a Catalan and as a Spaniard naturally would have become more central to his being once experiencing life amidst ‘others’ in Paris. Greeley distinguished an important transition point in the body of Miró’s work that cuts between his works from Barcelona, for example the cover of Arc-Voltaic (1918, figure 12), and these paintings he made in France that flirt with abstraction. She summarized Robert Lubar’s argument— that the artist’s early works demonstrate Miró’s search for an appropriate visual language to convey a contemporary Catalan “essence”— in order to show that Miró reversed the relationship between subject and object a few years after he left Barcelona. “…In the post-1923 paintings, the terms of Lubar’s claim get inverted. What might early on be described as Miró’s use of representation in the service of building a modern Catalan national identity, become nationalism in the service of representation.”14 Miró recognized this battlefield as an unfixed, transformative space that ought to be addressed in equally dynamic ways. In 1918, this took the form of a female nude as a means of attack against noucentisme aesthetics. In 1925, his subject matter became secondary to the modes of representation, as Greeley argued.15 After arriving in Paris, Miró no longer saw it as his primary task to combat noucentisme ideology. Instead, he confronted the act of painting itself, the primacy of the material, and the representational status of the sign. He pinned the face of the Catalan peasant to this project. Miró’s objectives changed from confronting a dominant ideology to facing the medium in which he was working, which demonstrated his drive to discover an appropriate way to visually communicate his ideas. This artist’s commitment to contemporaneity did not cease in 1925. As Greeley has argued in Surrealism and the Spanish Civil War, the 1930s presented a new challenge for Miró to face through painting. She showed that he was ultimately unable to find a started as an idea around which the people of Catalonia would work to modernize their shared territory without loosing sense of their Mediterranean heritage. D’Ors wrote about the social and civic responsibilities of art and culture in La Veu. Lubar, “Joan Miró before ‘The Farm,’ 1915-1922: Catalan Nationalism and the Avant-garde,” 5. 14 Greeley, “Nationalism, Civil War and Painting: Joan Miró and Catalanisme in the 1930’s,” 5. 15 Ibid., 5. 55 singular style “through which to address the cataclysm enveloping in his country [and this] suggests his ambivalence as to how to think visually about his own identity as a Catalan.”16 During the civil war in Spain, Miró worked and reworked his compositions, but he was simply unsuccessful in creating an image that ignited organized political action. His struggles speak to the importance that he placed on plasticity and on contemporaneity in terms of his artistic style and its relationship to the horrors of war taking place in his homeland. His contribution as a working artist was the visualization of his personal beliefs, accessible to an international audience via the Parisian art world. The Cap de pagès català paintings announce Miró’s impulse to internationalize himself and his art. Instead of taking on a rather simple problem concerning the direction of contemporary art in Barcelona, his Catalan head canvases tackled the methods of painting itself. Tàpies’s recycling of the two crossed lines, as seen in Miró’s Cap de pagès català paintings, function symbolically in multiple ways. The lines work as a signature identifying its maker, due to their ubiquitous use in other works. They also work to align Tàpies with Miró based on an ideological, as opposed to a purely visual, level. In 1920 Miró wrote a letter to his friend, also a Catalan painter, Enric Cristòfor Ricart that clarifies his mentality towards modernity and national identity: I do not know what it is that makes people who lose contact with the world’s brain fall into a slumber and become mummies. No painter in Catalonia has arrived at maturity…. You have to be an International Catalan; a homespun Catalan is not, and never will be, worth anything in the world.17 Miró’s opinions were clear and direct. National culture is worthless if it exists in a vacuum. If the vision of a flourishing Catalan future is solely introspective, then it will remain stagnant and underdeveloped. Catalan leaders must direct their attention to the cultivation of their civilization 16 Greeley, Surrealism and the Spanish Civil War, 8. 17 Lubar, “Joan Miró before ‘The Farm,’ 1915-1922: Catalan Nationalism and the Avant-garde,” 183. 1212 Figure 12Joan Miró, Cover illustration of Arc-Voltaic, February 1918, Barcelona 56 without loosing sight of the increasingly globalized society developing around them. For Miró, this meant approaching painting with an experimental and progressive attitude. In Barcelona, it meant exhibiting Catalan culture as vital and valuable beyond its territorial boundaries. Interestingly, Miró’s ideas about art and its role in society, found in a letter from 1920, are quite close to those of Tàpies half a century later. Miró’s thoughts about art are echoed in Tàpies’s 1971 essay “Avant-Garde and the Catalan Spirit.” He wrote that a great artist: …with an ardent sense of what is ours and of the respect due to it, wants to recover and seek to perpetuate that ancestral song that invites the whole world to make the Catalan spirit its own, to become “Catalanist.” Because for him this means, simply, keeping eternally alive that essential drive, in both love and war, in favor of humanism, democracy and freedom….18 In accord with the ideas of Miró, Tàpies set out to reinvent what these thoughts might look like. Just as Miró did before him, Tàpies rejected the soft, balanced, harmonious style of the noucentistas. In favor of an anti-aesthetic, he found the beautiful side of the ugly, the mundane, and the unremarkable. What Tàpies reused from Miró, albeit taking on an entirely different appearance, was a simple pair of crossed lines. Lines which, as we have seen, signify much more than the first letter of the artist’s first name. They signify the processes of visual representation and the artist’s ability to create and manipulate ideas in space. In an undated letter, Brossa wrote to Tàpies stating that he had finally superseded his surrealist phase and that his poetry was moving in a new direction (figure 13).19 The letter is probably from 1950 or 1951, considering the content and the quantity of their written correspondences during these years. Furthermore, Tàpies also abandoned the surrealist style shortly after, between 1953 and 1954. Brossa’s comments likely had much to do with that decision. In the undated letter, the poet also thanked Tàpies “for the Mirós,” stating that seeing them made an impact on his heart.20 This could refer to actual artworks that Tàpies gave to Brossa as a gift or, more likely, photographic reproductions of Miró’s latest art shown in Paris, as both Miró and Tàpies were living in the French capital at the time. Finally, the letter 18 Tàpies, Complete Writings Volume II. Collected Essays, 160. 19 Joan Brossa letter to Antoni Tàpies, (195-), L’Arxiu del Centre d’Estudis i documentació MACBA. 20 Ibid., 4. 57 concluded with a powerful reminder. Brossa wrote, “do not forget, Tàpies, that art is a spiritual means of contact between people.”21 The letters between these two men demonstrate several points: both were concerned about one another’s style (visual and poetic), both admired the work of Miró, and both considered art a form of communication. Ironically, Tàpies founded what art historians would later call Informalism via surrealist experimentation and iconography. Surmounting Surrealism, for Brossa in 1951 and for Tàpies shortly after, established new frontiers for both literary and visual culture in Catalonia. In the case of Tàpies, during his transition between quasi-surrealist compositions and his Matter Paintings, color was swapped for texture. During this change, Tàpies ditched one of the most important formal characteristics of Miró’s work, bright primary colors, in order to obtain an entirely different aesthetic through an incongruous palette and through surface texture. Tàpies later explained in an interview with Catoir that he was allergic to color, that it is overused in advertising, and that he wanted to achieve a chromatic effect that exists “beneath the superficial appearance of reality, the color of dream and fantasy, the color of visions, the color of emptiness, the color of space.”22 One example that demonstrates this desire is Terra i pintura (1956, figure 14). It is a cluster of earthly material affixed to a wood panel. The color is a mixture between concrete grey and light caramel brown with no focal center. Instead of toying with automatic gestures and the surrealist notion that the unconscious is the principal element generating creation, Tàpies avoided bright colors in search for a more organic visual experience, combined with an alluring texture, as his main vehicle for expression in this work. 21 Ibid., 4. 22 Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies, 95. 1 Figure 13Joan Brossa, Letter sent to Antoni Tàpies, (195-), Arxiu MACBA 58 Figure 14Antoni Tàpies, Terra i pintura, 1956 The Matter Paintings, which exhibit the style that Tàpies decided to stick to for the remainder of his long artistic career, are unmistakably tied to the life and times of their maker. Antoni Tàpies i Puig was born on December 13, 1923 in an apartment on Carrer Canuda in Barcelona. In 1966 he wrote A Personal Memoir: Fragments for an Autobiography, although the original version (in Catalan) was not published until 1977. In this autobiographic account he recalled a memory from his youth that is tied to a specific image: From the day after the proclamation of the Republic [April 14, 1931] I hold the persistent vision of the garden of a villa facing our house with a large object covered with sheets and tied with ropes. They told me that the inhabitants of that house were supporters of the monarchy and had recently placed on their garden fountain the royal coat of arms, which they now hurried to hide under those sheets so the Republican sympathizers wouldn’t break and destroy it. I thought those monarchists were members of a sinister sect, and the image of that cabalistic object now bundled like a kind of gigantic package has remained with me as the symbol of something forbidden and wicked.23 At the age of seven, it is implausible that Tàpies understood, at the time, the magnitude or complexity of the sociopolitical changes that occurred during his youth. In a single decade he lived through the fall of General Miguel Primo de Rivera’s dictatorship (1923-1930), the termination of the monarchy, the declaration of the Second Spanish Republic and its short-lived 23 Tàpies, Complete Writings Volume I. A Personal Memoir: Fragments for an Autobiography, 75. 65 sobre marró includes an imperfect, white square like that of Malevich, and Blanco amb deus creus is an optimistic image of floating forms in a calm sea of white. Gran pintura amb X i + also echoes both Miró and Malevich’s artworks. Tàpies’s canvas is not white but the soft, golden color is emotive, while the pair of perpendicular lines (Miró’s Catalan peasants) are designated to the two upper corners. His continual use of broad color fields and non-objective forms was resolute before, during, and after the transition to democracy. Objects in the materials world, however, were not always absent from Tàpies’s compositions. In fact, he often incorporated everyday, worn, tattered, or dirty items into his creations. Comparing another set of artworks, made under distinct historical conditions in Spain, confirms Tàpies’s unwavering stylistic commitment despite the immense changes of the 1970s and 1980s. Tela i tisores (1970, figure 19) displays a pair of scissors affixed in the middle of a light colored cloth or sheet. The scissors are closed and pointing downward, towards the painted outline of a large foot amidst stray splatters of paint. The weight of the scissors pulls on the material, creating wrinkles stemming from the two upper corners that lead the eyes towards the scissors. Meaning, in this artwork, is unfixed. There is no single interpretation that this work can uphold based purely on visual evidence. However, it does show beholders that the boundaries of art are not limited to the conventional conception of what is beautiful or attractive. It is the antithesis of the seductiveness of an oil painting. Tàpies believed that art ought to instigate thought and reflection. Tela i tisores is purposefully ambiguous yet uncannily familiar. In a later work, Tàpies used an open pair of scissors as a stencil to recreate the axis of a vertical and horizontal line for the poster announcing the 1977 exhibition ACC 1 Art Català Contemporani: Brossa, Miró, Tàpies at the Museu de Granolliers (figure 20). The negative space left when he removed the scissors is the color of a cardboard box, and since it is significantly lighter than the matte black that surrounds it, the figure (or lack thereof) is pushed to the foreground. A third work that also includes scissors does not depart from his previously established style; Empremta de tisores (1987, figure 21) likewise employs a pair of open scissors, Figure 18Kazimir Malevich, Suprematist Composition: White on White, 1918 66 Figure 19Antoni Tàpies, Tela i tisores, 1970 (left) Figure 20Antoni Tàpies, Poster for ACC 1 Art Català Contemporani: Brossa, Miró, Tàpies, 1977 (center) Figure 21Antoni Tàpies, Empremta de tisores, 1987 (right) this time angled in the form of an “X” imprinted in white on a gray background with straight lines radiating from each corner. The lines, formed from scratching through the surface of wet paint, do not converge at a center point; instead, the top two create a “V” shape, which is linked with a short, vertical line to an inverted “V” below. Several nonsensical signs or letters are scratched through a white label at the top, revealing a layer of light orange below. The canvas works on a sentimental as opposed to a symbolical level through its texture, symmetry, and style. Tàpies struck a balance between non-objective and familiarity throughout his career. What unifies these three works is the aura in which the artist created via style. In a newspaper article titled “Tàpies para escépticos” [Tàpies for Skeptics], Antonio Lucas pointed out that when looking at the artist’s work, “you have to get rid of the analytic gaze, understand that we are before an open field of colliding emotions... it is a question of suggestion, not analysis.”44 Throughout his long career, Tàpies worked to refine this style, a style that does not seek to solve anything yet suggest everything. 44 Luis Alemany, “Tàpies para escépticos,” El Mundo, February 7, 2012, http://www.elmundo.es/elmundo/2012/02/07/cultura/1328613795.html. 67 The extraordinary thing about Tàpies’s work is the stability of his art over time. Separate works that were created under vastly different situations are unified through the sensation that they transmit. While each individual canvas may not yield easily to analysis, the luxury of hindsight allows for an analytical approach to understanding Tàpies’s pictures. There is no major stylistic change amongst artworks that he created during the final five years of the Franco regime, the transition, and after the signing of the 1978 Constitution. However, the 1971 Assemblea de Catalunya, ensuing uncertainty after Franco’s death, the first democratic elections in 41 years, and the drafting of a new Spanish Magna Charta were all events that could have prompted an alteration of artistic practices. The Assemblea de Catalunya was formed in opposition to Franco’s regime, seeking a new democratic system, amnesty for those arrested during the dictatorship, and an autonomous status for Catalonia, as part of the Spanish State. Approximately 300 people gathered in Barcelona to celebrate the act composed of members from clandestine political parties, cultural associations, syndicates, and individuals. The group did not seek separation from the State but major political reforms.45 Tàpies made a painting memorializing the event, 7 de novembre (1971), which now hangs in the Palau del Parlament de Catalunya. Similar movements against the regime increased in popularity in the early 1970s throughout Spain. Sebastian Balfour explained that “Barcelona became the capital of the opposition to the dictatorship” during these years.46 The PSUC had turned into what Carme Molinero and Pere Ysàs characterized as “the primary political anti-Francoist formation,” although other groups throughout Spain also mobilized in acts of resistance. The Partido Comunista de España (PCE) and Madrid’s university student riots held some of the most active initiatives before the dictator’s death in November 1975. 47 Activism in the form of student protests also established strongholds in Valencia, Zaragoza, and 45See also: Montserrat Guibernau, Per un catalanisme cosmopolita (Barcelona: Angle, 2009), 35-36; José Luis de la Granja Sáinz, Justo G. Beramendi, and Pere Anguera, La España de los nacionalismos y las autonomías (Madrid: Síntesis, 2001); and Josep Maria Sòria, “Naixement i mort de l’Assemblea de Catalunya,” La Vanguardia, November 6, 2011. 46 Balfour, Dictatorship, Workers, and the City..., 191. 47 Fernando Nistal González, El papel del Partido Comunista en la Transición (Madrid: Centro de Estudios Políticos y Constitucionales, 2015), 81 and Richards, After the Civil War, 254. See also: Carme Molinero, (coord.), La Transición treinta años después (Barcelona: Península, 2006), 31-40; Molinero and Ysàs, La cuestión catalana, 147-152; and Nicolás Sartorius and Alberto Sabio Alcutén, El final de la dictadura: la conquista de la democracia en España: noviembre de 1975junio de 1977 (Madrid: Temas de Hoy, 2007), 145-195. 68 Bilbao.48 Finally, labor movements also played a role in the push towards a new political system in Spain.49 After Arias Navarro failed to transform the nation into a democracy that would not wholly upset Franco’s followers, King Juan Carlos I appointed Aldolfo Suárez as Prime Minister of Spain on July 3, 1976. The following year, Suárez would continue to lead Spain, as the first democratically elected Prime Minister since the Spanish Civil War. He made the decision to legalize the PCE on April 9, 1977, a few months after members of an ultra-right, anti-Communist had group killed five lawyers in the center of Madrid in an act of terror. In the final days of 1978, Spain held a referendum concerning the adoption of the new Constitution. At the time, more than 91% of voters were in favor of the law that would establish a constitutional monarchy in the Kingdom of Spain. On December 18, 1979, Catalonia and the Basque Country were granted the status of Autonomous Communities. The newly ratified Constitution allowed certain privileges to these regions, along with Galicia, as historical nationalities (nacionalidades históricas), which enabled their swift transition to becoming Spain’s first three Autonomous Communities. The failure of an attempted military coup in February 1981 in the Congress of Deputies demonstrated the resilience of the nascent government, although numerous scholars have characterized the early years of the new democracy as ‘fraudulent’ and a perpetuation of Francoism.50 Nevertheless, King Juan Carlos I made a nationally televised speech in the aftermath of the failed coup, publicizing his support for the strength of the actual legal system. Later that year, the creation of further autonomic pacts paved the way for future transfers of power. Spain would go on to create seventeen regional governments corresponding to its autonomous communities that had been outlined during the transition.51 Surprisingly, Tàpies did not seem to have a pictorial response to such stimuli, his images remained the same. His works throughout the 1970s and 1980s radiate a resolute energy that is as if the constantly changing nature of the world around him had been suspended or locked in time. His treatment of a pair of crossed lines or a pair of old scissors (that create the same shape when 48 Sartorius and Sabio Alcutén, El final de la dictadura, 156. 49 Borja de Riquer, “Social and Economic Change in a Climate of Political Immobilism,” Spanish Cultural Studies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), 269. 50 Gonzalo Pasamar, “¿Cómo nos han contado la Transición? Política, memoria e historiografía (1978-1996),” Ayer 99 (2015): 225-249. 249; 229. 51 Richards, After the Civil War. 69 open) has always been the same. He was not preoccupied with things, rather, he was interested in how things are able to trigger sentiments or memories and provoke ideas. The logic behind Tàpies’s commitment to his unique aesthetic (or antiaesthetic) style was shared between the realm of politics and that of modern art. Two realms that are not antithetical, as I will later elaborate. In Domination and the Arts of Resistance James Scott addressed the dynamics of power relations, public actions and private, or hidden, transcripts. “Taking a long historical view, one sees that the luxury of relatively safe, open political opposition is both rare and recent.”52 Forms of disguised resistance are more common, yet not so easy to detect. Scott deemed this type of opposition “infrapolitics” because it inhabits an intermediary space between the whispered ideas shared amongst friends and the bold performances of public protest or denunciations, for example, the act of spreading rumors, telling folktales, squatting, sabotaging crops, etc. Infrapolitical actions are not direct, outward proclamations; they take the form of veiled and often anonymous resistance in order to protect the agents from potentially violent reactions. If and when subordinate groups seize an opportunity to act publically, Scott emphasized the importance of the roles that hidden transcripts and disguised resistance play beneath the surface.53 In other words, while action tends to enjoy the limelight, bold demonstrations against authority are often the culmination of a web of forces that would otherwise remain unnoticed. Domination and the Arts of Resistance illustrated the error in solely examining breakthrough moments, “it is to focus on the visible coastline of politics and miss the continent that lies beyond.”54 In analyzing change or lack thereof, it is imperative to consider the landmass from which the shore has been made.55 In considering the work of Tàpies through the lens of Scott, his objectives as an artist and a citizen become sharper. As early as the 1950s, Tàpies began to work in a style that was purposefully ambiguous. He was working within Scott’s realm of “infrapolitics,” his art could be characterized as occupying a space somewhere in-between recognizable protest and secrets shared behind closed doors. His almost entirely abstract canvases from this time are nearly impossible to apprehend based solely on their physical appearance. Instead of depicting ideas, 52 Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance, 99. 53 Ibid., 99. 54 Ibid., 199. 55 Ibid., 202. 70 they show sensations, often somber, grim sensations. This style stemmed from Tàpies’s experiences and his desire to communicate his thoughts visually. Art historian and Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona Professor Maria Lluïsa Borrás stated in Destino that his works “are not the artistic creations that we used to refer to, but an endeavor to communicate.” At the time, Borrás was working as Miró’s secretary; she assisted in the early formation of the artist’s foundation and later collaborated on an unedited documentary about Tàpies in 1981. She concluded the Destino article with an explanation that contemporary culture and art are present, regardless if one sees it or not, and no “terrestrial power” can change that fact.56 For example, in 1974 Tàpies created a series of works in honor of Salvador Puig Antich, an anarchist and active member of the Iberian Liberation Movement who was sentenced to death by the Franco regime after a skirmish with the Guardia Civil. Puig Antich was 25 years old when he was found guilty of shooting a civil guard without any solid evidence. Despite pleas for clemency on behalf of the Pope and foreign ambassadors, the young man was strangled to death with a garrote.57 Although Puig Antich was an anarchist, the PCE used the event, along with the execution of Heinz Chez, as a motive to create propaganda against the regime and others sought to keep Puig Antich’s memory alive, converting him into a sort of national martyr.58 Without the title A la memòria de Salvador Puig Antich, Tàpies’s canvas seems to have little to do with this issue (figure 22). A small, colorful sample of paints is glued above a black sweater neatly folded into a right angle. Several streams of gray paint drip from the sleeve of the upside-down sweater. The neckline is frayed, with a few strands of fabric recalling the method in which Puig Antich was killed. This atypical memorial is about what is missing (the body of the deceased) and its ascension to another, more colorful, realm. The formal characteristics of this example do not point directly to any particular political position. The title is what attaches its meaning: the remembrance of man sentenced to an inhumane death. Without the title, the work is entirely unclear. For this reason, the work fits into Scott’s infrapolitical realm; the style of A la 56 Maria Lluïsa Borrás, “Antoni Tàpies o una nueva cultura,” Destino (June 12, 1971), 60. 57 Javier Angulo, “Puig Antich, caso reabierto,” El País, September 3, 2006, http://elpais.com/diario/2006/09/03/eps/1157264817_850215.html and Richards, After the Civil War, 254. See also: Pau Casanellas, Morir matando: El franquismo ante la práctica armada, 1968-1977 (Madrid: Catarata, 2014). 58 Nistal González, El papel del Partido Comunista en la Transición, 93. Examples seeking to perpetuate the memory of Puig Antich: Francesc Escribano, Compte enrere: la história de Salvador Puig Antich (Barcelona: Edicions 62, 2001); Jordi Panyella, Salvador Puig Antich, caso abierto (Barcelona: Lectio, 2015); Dies de transició Salvador Puig Antich: dotze hores de vida: l’execució de Puig Antich (Televisió de Catalunya and Vernal Media, 2006), documentary film. 71 Figure 22Antoni Tàpies, A la memòria de Salvador Puig Antich, 1974 memòria de Salvador Puig Antich is like a visual version of a code used to subvert those in positions of power. Another artwork that is both stylistically ambiguous yet anti-Francoist, albeit created after the dictator’s death, is 11 de setembre (1977, figure 23). Franco had named Prince Juan Carlos I as his successor and after the dictator died, Juan Carlos took on the title King of Spain. The new king, after trying to perpetuate the dictatorial regime for nearly six months, began a process that would transform the Francoist government into a democratic monarchy.59 During this process, Juan Carlos was cautious not to upset a range of different groups, most importantly the military. After the appointment of a provisional government led by Aldolfo Suárez in 1976, 59 Richards, After the Civil War, 264. See also: Sartorius and Sabio Alcutén, El final de la dictadura. 72 delegates elected in June of the following year would begin to draft the Spanish Constitution that would create a type of federal system. On September 11, 1977 Barcelona hosted the largest demonstration in post-war Europe, to show support for the Statute of Autonomy of Catalonia that would become law two years later.60 Tàpies’s picture titled after that particular day is blood red, with various forms painted over each other. At the bottom is a small page of a calendar with the date September 11 typed in bold ink. The Catalan holiday (referred to as the Diada) dates to the late nineteenth century and has been celebrated in remembrance of the events of 1714, when the Bourbon King Filipe V defeated Barcelona’s troops in defense of the Hapsburg dynasty’s claim to the throne.61 Franco had banned the celebration of the holiday and, not surprisingly, the day became even more important for Catalan citizens to acknowledge during and after the transition to democracy. Without the small scrap of paper with the calendar date, the image is an accumulation of layered markings without any dominating focal point. Attaching that little paper at the bottom entirely changes the picture’s implication: what would have been an abstract collection of signs turned into a statement concerning the importance of that particular date and year. While the title of Tàpies’s image is clear, he did not express what one should do on September 11th or why that day is worth remembering or celebrating. The canvas also lies in Scott’s infrapolitical zone because of the tension that exists between the clarity of the title and the opacity of the picture. A post-transition example of this same style at work, another artwork that can be situated in Scott’s infrapolitical realm, is Efecte de drap (1980, figure 24). This mixed media composition is exactly what the title claims, the effect of cloth. The various values of light and dark in this picture are formed from the weight of the fabric, pinned up at the two upper corners. Heavy, black letters are scribbled in a straight line across the bottom, ending with the number eight. Upon first glance the image seems nonsensical, the letters do not seem to spell any particular word and the cloth is an ordinary, banal material. However, considering this work together with the history of the artist’s experience in pre-war Barcelona, the image becomes more potent. 60 Daniele Conversi, “The Smooth Transition: Spain’s 1978 Constitution and the Nationalities Question” (National Identities, V.4 No. 3, 2002), 226-227; Conversi goes on to discuss how the Transition took on a “smoother process” than other plausible strategies. This later affected how nationalist groups have historically sought recognition as opposed to complete separation. See also: Carme Molinero and Pere Ysas, La cuestiín catalana. Cataluña en la transición española (Barcelona: Crítica, 2014). 61 David Martínez Fiol, “La construcción mítica del ‘onze de setembre’ en la cultura política del catalanismo durante el siglo XX,” Historia y Política 14, 221, 2005. 73 Figure 23Antoni Tàpies, 11 de setembre, 1977 (left) Figure 24Antoni Tàpies, Efecte de drap, 1980 (right) Tàpies’s remembrance of his neighbor’s garden fountain with monarchist symbols cloaked in sheets during the Second Republic stuck in his mind as a “symbol of something forbidden and wicked.”62 Efecte de drap is not about the picture itself; it is about what is behind the image, what the material is covering up. While Tàpies’s rendition is not quite a tromp l’oeil depiction of fabric, it does invite the curious viewer to touch. This is a trope that artists from Diego Velázquez to Paul Cézanne employed, activating the sense of touch via masterly painted fabrics. Efecte de drap is a sensuous image that is politically charged yet ambiguous. It leaves us to wonder both what the cloth feels like and, equally importantly, what it is concealing. It is possible that this canvas is a metaphor for the transition itself. With a backdrop of the Spanish left’s disillusion with the pace of political reforms and the lack of rupture from the Francoist politics of the past, Efecte de drap could visualize a parallel process. Tàpies may have wanted to draw attention to the act of covering up, as opposed to eliminating, an object. This would fit into the context of the desencanto [disenchantment], a profound pessimism that clashed with the optimism of the concenso [consensus] surrounding the creation of the new Spanish Constitution. From 1977 to 1982 many of those who participated in acts of resistance during the early 1970s felt deeply dissatisfied with the processes of the recent political reforms led by 62 Tàpies, Complete Writings Volume I. A Personal Memoir: Fragments for an Autobiography, 75. 74 political elites.63 Efecte de drap could have provoked viewers in 1981 to think about camouflaging or masking things so that they are not able to be seen. A la memòria de Salvador Puig Antich, 11 de setembre, and Efecte de drap are potent representations that contain political implications, cleverly engaged with avant-garde artistic trends. The first was made in response to Francoist politics the year before the dictator died. The second dealt with a Catalan celebration, which the former regime had banned. Finally, the third has a personal link to Tàpies’s childhood memory and hidden symbols that he knew to be dangerous. Despite major political reforms that were made in Spain during the late 1970s, Tàpies continued to create compositions in his style of the past. Just because the dictator had passed away, did not mean that his politics automatically disappeared. Tàpies was not simply against Franco; he was against the dictator’s unjust actions and beliefs. By the 1980s, the artist no longer needed to fight against Franco but those who sought to perpetuate Francoism during and after the transition to democracy.64 Tàpies created several artworks that are much less ambiguous in terms of ideological and political content. These works include subject matter that is more direct, however they maintain a stylistic similarity with the rest of his art since the mid 1950s. For example, his 1971 L’esperit català (figure 6) and 1976 poster for the Partit Socialista Unificat de Catalunya (PSUC) (figure 25) both combine words within each picture to signify meaning. The former includes the Catalan word for liberty scratched in the upper portion and below is the phrase long live Catalonia. The image is chaotic with a number of other words etched into the surface that is spattered with bloody handprints. The ladder includes thin 63 Giulia Quaggio, La cultura en transición: reconciliación y política cultural en España, 1976-1986 (Madrid: Alianza, 2014), 190-195. 64 See: Pasamar’s historigraphical essay “¿Cómo nos han contado la Transición?...” for Francoism in the nacent democracy, 227-231. Figure 25Antoni Tàpies, PSUC: per Catalunya, la Democràcia i el Socialisme, 1976 3 An Icon in the Making This chapter addresses both indirect and direct links between politics and art. The objective is to explain Tàpies’s increasingly iconic status in Spain during the 1970s and 1980s and how politics affect the production of art and artistic practices. The first section examines when and why Tàpies became one of Catalonia’s most distinguished cultural icons. The following section elaborates on an investigation as to how he began to create public works without compromising his already-established style. “An Icon in the Making” concludes with an elucidation of how the realm of the political is an important agent in that of the processes of making and showing art. 3.1 Achieving an Iconic Status When and why did Tàpies become an icon of culture in Catalonia? Somewhere between Pere Gimferrer’s 1975 statement “the work of Antoni Tàpies is now at a beginning of a future that belongs to it”1 and Jordi Pujol’s 1981 speech at the UNESCO headquarters positioning Tàpies amongst some of the most renowned artists of the twentieth century, Tàpies’s reputation soared, ultimately leading to important public commissions in the 1980s. The reason for his success had much to do with the space and time in which he developed his career. Tàpies’s style was a rejection of nouncentista aesthetics, bright colors prevalent in commercial advertisement, and geometric abstraction. However, Barcelona was the location in which he became familiar with these modes of representation; it is also where he met Brossa and Miró. When the artistic center of ‘Western’ society was in a state of transition from Paris to New York City after World War II, Tàpies was holding on to the desire for an avant-garde south of the French capital. His involvement with the group Dau al Set beginning in 1948, and his ensuing nonconformist attitude towards the visual arts is unthinkable in another place or moment in time. The place and time (late 1940s Catalonia) gave shape to Tàpies’s pictorial career, for better or for worse. This particular moment was peculiar in that the artist’s ambiguous yet political, semi-abstract, unorthodox, and even unpleasing compositions were recognized and valued on the international level. It was a moment when geometric abstraction was no longer novel and Abstract 1 Gimferrer, Tàpies and the Catalan Spirit, 82. 82 Expressionism was taking off in New York City. Many European artists and intellectuals flocked to the United States during and after World War II, but Tàpies held on to the idea that a serious artistic environment could still thrive in Europe. By the mid 1950s, major galleries on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean represented Tàpies. The Martha Jackson Gallery, in New York City, held a solo exhibition in 1953. Tàpies made his first trip to the United States for the opening, where he signed a contract with the gallery.2 Three years later, Galerie Stradler celebrated a one-man show, presenting Tàpies to the Parisian art scene for the first time. By 1975, galleries from a dozen different countries had hosted important solo exhibitions of the artist’s work. Showing in international locations such as New York City, Paris, or Dusseldorf was quite different than exhibiting works within Spain. One reason is that Tàpies’s Catalan identity was, in foreign locations, unproblematic. However, in the Iberian Peninsula beholders would have been more aware of tension between the two labels and would have also considered their own identification as similar or different to that of Tàpies. For example, the opening words of Sebastian Gasch’s 1971 book on Tàpies (part of the series Artistas Españoles Contemporáneos) highlighted the artist’s nationalist behaviors. “The painter Antoni Tàpies, just as Joan Miró, always writes his name in Catalan and when speaking accents his last name with great emphasis, according to Catalan grammar....”3 Beyond Spain, particularly in the United States, publications did not highlight these types of nuances. Tàpies’s international audience naturally paid less attention to identity politics than his innovation within the art world. By the end of the Franco dictatorship, he had created a tremendous body of work and continued to display new works around the globe. However, for four consecutive years between 1975 and 1978, Tàpies showed artworks in various Madrid galleries.4 This is remarkable considering that he had only exhibited works in Madrid on three prior occasions in 1953, 1966, and 1973.5 In Spain’s capital, his identity as a Catalan artist was more visible and was naturally pitted against other national and international contemporary artists during this period. Even after the 1970s, Tàpies did not show very often in Madrid. Luis Figuerola-Ferretti commented on this fact during a rare exhibition at the Galería Antonio Machón in 1985: “Informing the public, in 2 Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies, 140. 3 Gasch, Tàpies, 7. 4 Catoir, Conversations with Antoni Tàpies, 146-147. 5 Ibid., 140-147. 83 this case madrileños, about the current trajectory of an artist of such international relevance like Tàpies, especially because Madrid has not dedicated a rigorous program to show his recent works, is what this gallery offers us today and it is fascinating.”6 The infrequency with which Tàpies decided to display works in Madrid is remarkable during the 1970s, he often preferred to show in Catalonia or abroad instead of in Madrid. This certainly stemmed from his love towards his place of birth, but also from his animosity towards Spain’s capital during Francisco Franco’s lifetime. This explains why he would have been more open to showing in Madrid after the dictator’s death in 1975. Meanwhile, in Barcelona, Tàpies remained active in galleries Maeght and Artema and the Fundació Joan Miró held an important retrospective of the artist’s work. Antoni Tàpies (Obra 1956-1976) first opened in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, France between July and September of 1976 at the Fondation Maeght. The exhibition was then sent to Barcelona and shown at the Joan Miró’s foundation between October and December of the same year. The catalogue of the Barcelona exhibition included Tomàs Llorens’s notes on the artist’s paintings in Catalan and in Spanish, biographical information, and a list of previous exhibitions.7 Llorens pointed out several important aspects of Tàpies’s oeuvre that would have been relevant for visitors with a background in art history as well as the general public. He demonstrated that instead of asking about what the artwork means (or what a particular aspect of the picture stands for), we should ask how it produces meaning.8 How do the formal elements of the artwork (color, tone, line, form, texture, perspective, fracture) trigger associations, memories, and emotions? Furthermore, he discussed Tàpies’s intentional ambiguity and his balance between unclear elements and random markings, describing him as having a “voluntad de engaño” [will to hoax].9 Llorens’s notes that accompanied the retrospective Antoni Tàpies (Obra 1956-1976) illustrate a remarkable understanding and sensibility towards the artist’s style, previously unseen in critical and art historical texts concerning Tàpies. This is the future that Gimferrer was referring to. Although Tàpies had already established an international reputation before 1975, this year was a turning point in his career. It was the end of an era and the beginning of Tàpies’s iconic status as a renowned contemporary 6 Luis Figuerola-Ferretti, “El arte en Madrid: La pintura actual de Tàpies,” Goya 184 (JanuaryFebruary 1985), 261. 7 Antoni Tàpies (Obra 1956-1976), (Barcelona: Fundació Miró, 1976). 8 Ibid., 20. 9 Ibid., 21-22. 84 artist on the national and international level. Showing works in Madrid engaged a new audience previously unexposed to his recent works. However, support from Madrid never matched that of Barcelona, neither from artistic nor political institutions. Part of the reason for this distinction had to do with the artist’s visibility and his dedication to projects based within Catalonia. Another factor is that much of the literature on Tàpies is written in Catalan, which worked to bolster his acclaim as a working artist. In a 1981 speech bridging these two realms at the UNESCO headquarters, Jordi Pujol asserted Tàpies as the youngest in line of several generations of avant-garde artists hailing from Catalonia. His proud proclamation positioned Tàpies as the latest reference of visual art in the region. He was the new Miró. Despite Tàpies’s opposition of the conservative government led by the CiU coalition, the Generalitat awarded the artist with the highest recognition of the institution in 1983. The President of the Generalitat presented Tàpies with a gold medal in acknowledgement of his artwork and his hundreds of exhibitions. Aware of the artist’s orientation towards leftist politics, Pujol expressed that in one hundred years nobody would remember the name Jordi Pujol but that Antoni Tàpies, through his art, will live on. He did so using an analogy involving the prestige of Pope Julius II verses Michelangelo, with the glory and legacy in favor of the artists.10 Why did Pujol and CiU appropriate Tàpies as the leader of the Catalan artistic elite? Part of the answer to this question deals with the artist’s nationalist discourse, which echoed that of Miró. The Generalitat’s support for Tàpies reflected their interest in cultivating a narrative of Catalan cultural nationalism that would link Miró to Tàpies as the most recent Catalan master painters. The question as to how Catalan government institutions figured into Tàpies’s success as an artist is addressed in later chapters. The media also played a significant role to move Tàpies into the upper echelons of contemporary Catalan figures. The caption “Antoni Tàpies, one of the mythical artists of this generation” was published with an interview in La Vanguardia in 1981.11 Using the term mythical gives the artist idealized and divine status. The same year, Tàpies created a poster for the 1982 World Cup celebrated in Spain. Various artists representing regions that would host the matches were selected to make an image announcing the event.12 In Catalonia, Tàpies’s image 10 Joaquín Luna, “Tàpies recibió sin ningún recelo la Medalla de Oro de la Generalitat,” La Vanguardia, October 7, 1983, 18. 11 La Vanguardia, February 5, 1981, 68. 12 La Vanguardia, June 14, 1981, 49. 85 included a foot kicking a ball with a cross through the middle in black, sloppy paint on a leftover newspaper with the title “Barcelona 82” above (figure 26). Miró also made a poster for the event, which had no resemblance to that of Tàpies. The following year, Tàpies had another exhibition at the Fundació Joan Miró. The Diario de Barcelona published a photograph of Tàpies holding his granddaughter Teresa in his arms at the show with a pair of his posters hanging in the background on December 23, 1983 (figure 27). Two days later, on Christmas day, Miró passed away. The next day, Tàpies published an article in La Vanguardia that praised Miró’s pictorial accomplishments, “a new vision of the world, a way of understanding life, a way of living more fully and justly, with which goes included, evidently, both our individual and national liberty. And it is not surprising that in this sentiment, Miró was profoundly tied to the need to defend our Catalan spirit, our liberties, our culture....”13 National liberty, for Tàpies in this moment, meant protecting the 1979 Statute of Autonomy of Catalonia in the newly established democratic Kingdom of Spain. This statement also demonstrates Tàpies’s commitment to principal elements within the discourse of Catalan nationalism: Catalan “spirit”, liberty, and culture. In a conversation about this particular publication, Toni Tàpies substantiated the meaning of his father’s words: I would say that for my father in 1983, just as before, defending Catalonia’s national liberty was, in a way, practically synonymous with defending the democracy in Spain.... For my father, when he defended the recuperation of national rights in Catalonia, it was similar to defending the recuperation of democracy not only in Catalonia but also in Spain....14 13 Antoni Tàpies, La realidad como arte, 266. 14 Interview with Toni Tàpies, February 4, 2016. Figure 26Antoni Tàpies, Poster for the 1982 World Cup, 1981 86 Tàpies’s sentiments towards Catalonia mirrored those of Miró, although their ways of expressing their feelings were remarkably distinct. Nevertheless, the two artists were often seen as analogous to one another. For example, in Lluís Permanyer’s 1986 Tàpies y la nueva cultura, he voiced that everything Tàpies touched turned to gold, knowingly echoing the words of the renowned arts promoter Joan Prats who had previously expressed the same concerning Miró.15 Tàpies’s iconic status in Spain augmented in the 1970s and 1980s despite the fact that he was working within the same style he had developed during the previous two decades. The transition to democracy, Miró’s death, and the artist’s stylistic peculiarity were all factors in his professional success. Tàpies’s decision to consistently show works in Madrid between 1975 and 1978 expanded his audience in an era of great change. Exhibiting art in Spain’s capital during this period was not a coincidence, but an ideological maneuver to show in a rapidly transforming city. Hamilton Stapell characterized the changing mood of Madrid during the late 1970s as changed from “a gray and lifeless former home of the dictator to an open and proud place” that would later become “known around the world for its vibrancy.”16 Resonating with Madrid’s anti-Franco student movements that advocated for amnesty and a democratic political system, Tàpies’s pictures gave shape to parallel ideas concerning his desire for the future of Spain.17 Additionally, creating works beyond the traditional exhibition piece that reach a large national and international audience, such as the 1982 World Cup poster, helped expand Tàpies’s 15 Permanyer, Tàpies y la nueva cultura, 20. 16 Hamilton Stapell, Remaking Madrid: Culture, Politics, and Identity after Franco (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010), 39. 17 Javiera Errázuriz, “El movimiento estudiantil madrileño durante el curso 1975-1976: auge y agotamiento de un actor fundamental en lucha contra el franquismo,” Ayer 99 (2015): 216. See also: Stapell, Remaking Madrid: Culture, Politics, and Identity after Franco. Figure 27Photograph of Antoni Tàpies holding his granddaughter Teresa at the Fundació Joan Miró, Diario de Barcelona, Barcelona, December 23, 1983, Arxiu Fotográphic de Barcelona 87 exposure and reputation beyond the Iberian Peninsula. At home, the death of Miró in the early 1980s left a void that Tàpies abruptly filled. The number and scale of public commissions that Tàpies undertook in the early 1990s demonstrates the role he played as the foremost living visual artist in Spain at the time. Before his death in 2012, Tàpies had become one of Catalonia’s most prestigious artists with his own foundation dedicated to the study and exhibition of modern art. Tàpies, like Miró before him, also aspired to foment the visual arts in Barcelona through the creation of Fundació Antoni Tàpies. Although the two men’s artworks had little in common aesthetically, their ideas about the role of art and culture in society were quite similar. Each worked in a different style that was, and continues to be, unique. Style is what first distinguished Tàpies within the international art world and it is also what gave his work continuity throughout his long career. In 1988, in an exhibition publication from the Ajuntament de Barcelona, Tàpies els anys 80, Tàpies was described as “the most illustrious of contemporary Spanish painters.”18 Using “Spanish” here is remarkable. However, its use, as opposed to the alternative identifying adjective “Catalan,” is not particularly surprising due to the PSC-PSOE’s (Partido Socialista Obrero Español) uninterrupted rule of the Ajuntament since the 1979 elections and their promotion of the concept of a dual national identity, both Spanish and Catalan, as being perfectly compatible. Twenty-first century discourse concerning national identity in Catalonia has antagonized the relationship between Spanish and Catalan identities, due to an increase in support for radical Catalan nationalist groups. However, in the 1980s and 1990s, the compatibility of these two concepts was ubiquitous and unproblematic. Individuals could consider themselves as being both Spanish and Catalan without compromise. For many, this has remained true to this day, while others have bought into the idea that these two identifications are mutually exclusive. Another interesting element of the Tàpies els anys 80 publication is that it sought to bolster Tàpies’s prominence, amplifying the arena in which he was considered “the most illustrious” to the state level. The following sections, and subsequent chapter, will examine the increasing political support that the artist received, which also strengthened his reputation in and beyond Catalonia. 18 Tàpies els anys 80, (Barcelona: Ayuntamiento de Barcelona, 1988), 9. 88 3.2 Sculpting Catalonia (1983-1989) In 1983 Tàpies finished major projects for the Ajuntament de Barcelona and the Ajuntament de Sant Boi de Llobregat. These were two of the artist’s first major public works in Catalonia and their success led to a number of future large-scale commissions. In 1984 he initiated the long process of creating a foundation in his own name. Tàpies began to physically leave his mark as a contemporary artist in Barcelona in the early 1980s in three dimensions and he did so without straying away from in his already established individual style. In Barcelona, Tàpies created a controversial sculpture dedicated to Pablo Picasso, a decade after his 1973 death. Monument Homenatge a Picasso (figure 28) consists of antique objects and furniture arranged inside a glass cube with gentle streams of water flowing down each side. The pile of encapsulated material was meant to connote familiar objects of comfort, everyday furnishings typical in early twentieth century bourgeoisie homes. The iron rods that slice through the material create a metaphor for Picasso’s anticonformist attitude towards both art and life.19 Tàpies admired both Picasso and Miró, who had passed away months after the sculpture was completed, and he considered each of them as masters in a double sense: for their international artistic merit and their regard for social issues. Their works were “inseparable from ethics and politics,”20 just as Tàpies envisioned his own work. On a white cloth hanging horizontally inside the cube, Tàpies scribbled in Catalan a Picasso quote concerning Guernica, 19 “Proyectos y Realización del Monumento a Picasso, de Tàpies,” Butlletí de la Facultat de Belles Arts de la Universitat de Barcelona (Barcelona), May 1983, 1. 20 Anfosso, “La destrucción del confort como homenaje a Picasso,” Diario de Barcelona (Barcelona), February 9, 1982. Figure 28Antoni Tàpies, Monument Homenatge a Picasso, 1983 89 his 1937 mural condemning the German aerial bombings of the Basque town during the Spanish Civil War. “A painting is not intended to decorate a drawing room but is instead a weapon of attack and defense against the enemy.”21 The famous quotation speaks about the social power and responsibility of art. For Picasso, art was not supposed to be lovely images that make beholders feel warm inside. Instead, he wanted to use art as a means of communicating ideas, important ideas about contemporary life and current events. The composition of Guernica, and the tremendous amount of preliminary sketches Picasso made before executing the work, demonstrates the artist’s abhorrence towards those responsible for the bombing of innocent civilians during the Spanish Civil War. The mural was not meant to be beautiful, it was meant to raise consciousness and funds for the Republicans during the war.22 Tàpies’s monument, located on Passeig de Picasso near Parc de la Ciutadella, created a polemic when it was first installed. While some saw the new piece as an authentic work of contemporary art, others saw it simply as an ugly sculpture.23 Newspapers published numerous opinion pieces weighing in on the sculpture with titles such as “A Polemic Monument,” “The Destruction of Comfort as Homage to Picasso,” and “First Stone.” The latter is a response not to the literal first stone laid to commence construction, but to one of the first critics metaphorically throwing a rock at the sculpture in disapproval.24 Arguments on both sides of the debate assuredly augmented Tàpies’s reputation in Barcelona as a living artist. In an El País article discussing the polarized public opinion, art critic and professor at the Universitat de Barcelona Victoria Combalía expressed how contemporary art was taught to young students and experienced as a natural component of the urban environment in other countries. She concluded with the desire that, in two or three decades, everyone will be able to appreciate the value of the monument and its artistic merit.25An anonymous critic stated that the monument is nice for an exhibition and/or museum but that it is not appropriate for the street, and another claimed that 21 Fundació Antoni Tàpies, Tribute to Picasso, accessed July 22, 2016, http://www.fundaciotapies.org/site/spip.php?rubrique646. 22 Gijs van Hensbergen, Guernica: The Biography of a Twentieth-Century Icon (New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2004). 23 Victoria Combalía, “Un monumento polémico,” El País (Barcelona), March 21, 1983, 22. 24 R. Santos Torroella, “Primera Piedra,” La Vanguardia (Barcelona), April 5, 1983, 7. 25 Combalía, “Un monumento polémico,” 22. It is safe to say that Combalía’s hopes for the future have not yet been realized because art is an undervalued subject and often synonymous with crafts in Spain’s current public educational system. Understanding Modern and Postmodern art is often contingent upon a sound background in both art and social history, two subjects that math and science, in the increasingly popular ‘bilingual’ educational curriculum, often take precedent. 90 Figure 29Photograph of the inauguration of Monument Homenatge a Picasso at the Universitat de Barcelona, Diario de Barcelona, Barcelona, May 3, 1983, Arxiu Fotográphic de Barcelona anyone who liked the project was absolutely crazy.26 The Ajuntament de Barcelona took a risk in commissioning this high-profile work of art. The vast majority of Tàpies’s works are difficult, ambiguous, nonconventional, polemic even. Nevertheless, important politicians attended the inauguration in support of the sculpture, including the Mayor of Barcelona, Pasqual Maragall (figure 29). There was also an exhibition at the Facultat de Belles Arts of the Universitat de Barcelona which led viewers through a multimedia demonstration of the processes of the creation of the monument. The display included biographic information of both Picasso and Tàpies, preliminary sketches of Monument Homenatge a Picasso, videos, photographic documentation, technical plans, and literature concerning the project. It is likely that photographs of the installation of the monument were included in this exhibition. A particularly ironic image, now in the Arxiu Fotográphic de Barcelona that could have been included in the exhibition, is a photograph of the central parts of the sculpture covered in tarps and tied with ropes, to protect 26 Glòria Picazo, “Tàpies: vestigis d’allò que existí,” Nous Horitzons, March-May 1983, 30. Combalía, “Un monumento polémico,” 22. 97 More concrete examples of links between politics and art are evident in Tàpies’s A la memòria de Salvador Puig Antich (figure 22) and 11 de setembre (figure 31). The former shows us the artist’s stance through its title, indicating Tàpies’s sympathies with the anarchist accused of murder and sentenced to death via an antique killing device. This is an indirect example, as Tàpies positioned himself in response to an event carried out by the Francoist dictatorship. The latter is an enormous visual reminder, in a public space, of a historical date that has come to represent the resilience of the Catalan community. It is direct, although the artist donated his time spent on the design, the Ajuntament de Sant Boi de Llobregat sought out Tàpies for the project because of his iconic status and commitment to perpetuating the notion of a unified Catalan culture. In examining a particular artwork, it is not always evident that there is a direct or indirect link to the realm of politics. For example, the 1989 ink, gouache and collage on paper titled La bota i el mitjó (figure 33) does not have any overt reference to civil affairs. The picture consists of various black marks: some are partially transparent sprayed on like graffiti, some are heavy, jet black lines hastily slapped on the paper, and some are thinner, more defined, yet also applied with a sense of haste. Two flat forms in the shape of a foot and knee with the color of a brown paper bag are glued over the black marks. The image is not clear. However, it is obvious is that Tàpies made it. Besides the small signature on the bottom left, the darkest and most prominent aspect of the work is the cross in the middle. This symbol works to immediately identify the artist. By 1989, Tàpies had already created a repertoire of vague and nontraditionally beautiful works, and this collage belongs to that body of work. As an individual image it may not signify much in terms of political ideologies. However, it exists as a part of a larger group, a collection with a consistent style, developed during a specific historical moment and forever tied to the early struggles of the artist to represent himself as both an international and Catalan artist working under a repressive regime. This trademark style that Tàpies created during the early years of his career Figure 33Antoni Tàpies, La bota i el mitjó, 1989 98 is very much political in its enigmatic subject matter and lackluster colors. Even though La bota i el mitjó was made fourteen years after the death of Franco, the style binds it with prior works developed during particular political conditions, which inhibited the artist from freely expressing himself. It is indirectly political for its symbolic content and stylistic similarity to former compositions. Beyond analyzing individual works of art, it is also worthwhile to examine entire bodies of works. Politics indirectly affected Tàpies’s style during the transition to democracy, in that his resilience to change further legitimized his previous works. His desire for liberty and love for the unconventional in art did not diminish once new political freedoms were established in Spain. His art did not mirror political society. Instead, his art demonstrates a complex relationship with the past, present, and future “imagined community” in which he identified himself as belonging to.39 Tàpies actively negotiated his political ideologies in visual terms. Did Tàpies instigate measurable political change? Not quite. However, if we are to read success in terms of a binary structure (the opposite being failure) we cannot say that he failed to address real political situations through works of art. He sought to do so through visual ideas. Politics is intrinsically tied to any creative act made public. Tàpies knowingly embraced this fact, and sought to reproduce his personal viewpoint in terms of matter in space rather than words in time. His artwork does not seek definitive conclusions or concrete courses of action. Instead, it aims at instigating thought and reflection, a habit or skill that is increasingly undervalued in a world saturated in the shiny, seductive advertisements that accompany capitalist societies. Tàpies was not a militant of a political party, but he did contribute to “the continent that lies beyond”40 the discernible politics (Scott’s visible shoreline) of a politically instable Spain. The following chapter will outline more concrete, direct links between politics and art, most prominently through financial support and commissions from public institutions that the artist received during the final decade of the twentieth century and into the first years of the twenty-first century. 39 Benedict Anderson’s term works to demonstrate the constructed nature of a national population and how individuals imagine themselves as part of a community although they may never know or even see the vast majority of others that belong to the same group. Imagined Communities. Later studies concerning nationalization and national identity consider everyday experiences and emotions as fundamental in the creation of a national population. See: Billig, Banal Nationalism and Edensor, National Identity, Popular Culture and Everyday Life. Finally, Quiroga offers a theoretical model that considers both the official national discourse and the everyday experiences and how they work in nations where two or more nationalities are contested in “The Three Spheres...” 40 Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance, 199. 99 3.4 Concluding Remarks In a historiographical chapter on Cultural Studies, Miguel Ángel del Arco Blanco explained how the discipline utilizes particular perspectives to examine the interactions between culture, power, and society. Historians, he states, ought to keep this in mind as they write history.41 While history tends to focus on realities of the past, the interdisciplinary nature of cultural studies allows for greater attention to both historical realities and fictions. Del Arco expressed that in order to represent the past, we must take into consideration two narratives: the “realist” history that is pieced together using primary sources and the world of fiction and imagination which permits reality to seep in.42 Art engages in both of these realms. However, attention is too often focused on the creative and imaginary aspect of visual culture. Picasso is said to have once stated, “everything you can imagine is real.”43 This is important to remember when considering the work of Tàpies. He created fictions that are not isolated from reality. Art, as a mere part of a wider culture, is always engaged with power and politics, directly or indirectly.44 This chapter, together with the previous one, shows that the production of art is a political process. Tàpies created a unique style in the 1950s and decided to keep working with it in order to demonstrate his ideological commitment to particular values. Politics had a direct affect on the artist’s production because of his personal experiences, desires, and understanding of his own personal identity as a Catalan and anti-Francoist. He became an artistic icon in Catalonia under specific circumstances. His international success as an avant-garde artist working in an almost abstract style bolstered his reputation at home. Further support came from local and regional governments via public commissions, awards, and financial patronage. The regional government found Tàpies’s appealing to create visualizations that were congruent with the CiU’s nationalist narrative that depicted Catalonia as a nation since the Middle Ages. The Ajuntament also found the artist useful in order to rebuild Barcelona as a modern, cultivated European city in the final decade of the twentieth century. Both the Generalitat’s conservative coalition and the Ajuntament’s socialist party found ways to use the art of Tàpies, as the following chapter will 41 Del Arco Blanco, “Un paso más allá de la historia cultural: los cultural studies,” 20. 42 Ibid., 13. 43 Alexandra George, Constructing Intellectual Property (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 10. 44 See: Mihelj, Media Nations, 10. 100 explain in greater detail. The artist achieved an iconic status while maintaining an unwavering artistic style that he continued to use throughout the 1990s. The proceeding chapters will focus on how particular public institutions have promoted the artist and how a selection of different cultural centers have presented his works of art. 4 A New Foundation and an Old Sock “Why wouldn’t Tàpies make a living off of antifranquismo? It is a known, profitable enterprise.” Luis Apostua1 This chapter looks at the role that the Generalitat de Catalunya and the Ajuntament de Barcelona played in supporting Tàpies thorough public commissions and financial support of his foundation towards the end of his artistic career. Through an analysis of artworks created specifically for public and semi-public spaces, the relationship between the art world and that of politics is bridged. I refer to both spaces as accessible to the public, however private entities govern semipublic locations such as the Fundació Antoni Tàpies. The nature of the relationship between art and politics is curious, particularly when considering the thoughts and emotions of a third party, the public. “A New Foundation and an Old Sock” explains how Tàpies’s work is bound to the institutions that support it. The first section focuses on the 1990 inauguration of the Fundació Antoni Tàpies in Barcelona and a Catalan nationalist mural that the artist made for the Generalitat during the same year. The following section introduces several public projects that Tàpies made during the last decade of the twentieth century, including the planning of a controversial project that politicians weighed in on, and was eventually halted after months of debate. Finally, the concluding remarks concern the nature of public funding and works of art, the main theme of this chapter. 4.1 Financial and Institutional Support Upon joining the European Economic Community in 1986, Spain was considerably behind other European nations in terms of gross domestic product per capita. Through this incorporation, to which would later become the European Union, the value of the Spanish currency, the peseta, increased. In the early 1990s during a global recession, Spain supported the push for a common 1 “¿Por qué no va a vivir Tàpies de antifranquismo? Es negocio de reconocia rentabilidad.” Luis Apostua, “Calcetin con millones,” Navarra Hoy, February 9, 1992. 102 European currency. Before the 1992 Olympic Games, Barcelona poured money into a host of projects to prepare the city for the event.2 Despite the fluctuating state of the economy during final decade of the twentieth century, Catalan local and regional governments supported public arts indicatives. By the late 1990s the country was already recovering from the recession, employment rates were on the rise, and property values were going up. Once the Euro began circulation in the Eurozone in 2002, the Basque Country, Catalonia, and Madrid were reaching high employment rates and the Spanish economy was healthy again.3 In 1990 Tàpies finished a mural for the Sala Tarradellas in the Palau de la Generalitat titled Les quatre cròniques (figure 4). There is a photograph that documented the artist signing a contract to create paintings for the Sala Màdico, currently known as the Sala Tàpies; sitting next to Tàpies on the left side of the image, which was taken on March 16, 1989 (figure 34), was Joan Guitart, the Generalitat’s Councilor of Culture at the time. However, the specific terms of the contract are unknown and the economic compensation for the project has not been published. The Generalitat decided to change the location of Les quatre cròniques in 2006, relocating it to a prominent room used for meetings and regularly accessible to the media (figure 35). Toni Tàpies could not recall the specifics of the commission, but he assured me that his father, when he was asked to make works such as this one, would have chosen the subject matter. He explained that the Generalitat asked for a work to fit in a specific space, but they would not have specified what, exactly, he should paint.4 The two-by-six meter painting often appears in the background of twenty-first century news reports concerning official matters of the Generalitat and high-profile figures that visit the government building because of its current location in the Sala Tarradellas. Similar to his mosaic design in Sant Boi de Llobregat, this work takes on a Catalan theme. The mural consists of four panels, which could clarify why the short text on the back of the photograph refers to murals in plural, each dedicated to a medieval biographical manuscript written in Catalan. Reading from left to right, the first is dedicated to King Jaume I and his thirteenth century Llibre dels Fets.5 The second is about Bernat Desclot’s 1288 account Llibre 2 For the contradictory nature of the 1992 celebrations in Spain see: Balfour and Quiroga, The Reinevntion of Spain, 168-171. 3 Instituto Nacional de Estadística, Encuesta de empleo del tiempo 2002-2003, accessed June 13, 2016, http://www.ine.es/daco/daco42/empleo/dacoeet.htm. 4 Interview with Toni Tàpies, February 4, 2016. 5 Presumably the first autobiographical account of a medieval king in Europe, the origignal Llibre dels fets was lost. Jaume II comissioned a Latin translation of his father’s work, although is the earliest surviving copy dates from 1343, after Jaume II’s death. Scholars believe that Jaume I did not actually write out the work, instead he dictated to 103 Figure 34Photograph of Tàpies signing documents at the Palau de la Generalitat, Barcelona, March 16, 1989, Arxiu Fotográphic de Barcelona del rei en Pere d’Aragó e dels seus antecessors passats in addition to his “great deeds and conquests.” The next concerns the chronicle of nobleman Ramon Muntaner and his expeditions (1325-1328), represented in the mural with the four red bars of the Catalan flag and Muntaner’s benevolent phrase “què us dire?” [what shall I tell you?]. The fourth and final panel is about the autobiographical work of King Pere III (1382-1385) that contains an allegorical, biblical text. As a whole, the Les quatre cròniques is consistent with Tàpies style discussed in the previous chapters. There are legible markings and symbols yet the entirety of the picture gives an effect via the formal elements (color, line, shape, texture, perspective, and facture), not a specific statement about these literary works or their value. It is only through the title and location of the work that these chronicles become increasingly cherished. Les quatre cròniques memorializes scribes, and there is even some speculation as to whether or not the king knew how to write himeslf. The Book Of Deeds of James I of Aragon. A translation of the medieval Catalan Llibre dels fets, Trans. Damian Smith and Helen Buffery, (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003), 10. 104 Figure 35Photograph of Artur Mas discussing the unofficial referendum in Catalonia with Tàpies’s Les quatre cròniques (1990) in the background, Barcelona, November 11, 2014 medieval works written in Catalan in an entirely political fashion. The art works to remind beholders of the historicity and importance of a language that was neither legally recognized nor valued in Franco’s Spain. The fact that the Generalitat confided in Tàpies to carry out this commission is interesting. Since 1980, Pujol and CiU had maintained power of the autonomous government and would continue to do so until 2003. The CiU was formed in 1978 as a Catalan nationalist coalition uniting CDC and Unió Democràtica de Catalunya (UDC). Throughout the 1980s, as Andrew Dowling reported, “the Pujolist discourse equated any attack on, or even lack of support for, Pujol or CiU with an attack on Catalonia and the identification of Catalanism with Pujolism became increasingly common.”6 However, Pujol proved purposefully ambiguous in his political strategy concerning Catalan nationalism, taking care to maintain a balance between proto state building discourse within Barcelona and a more moderate position in Madrid.7 6 Andrew Dowling, Catalonia Since the Spanish Civil War: Reconstructing the Nation (Portland, OR: Sussex Academic Press, 2013), 111. 7 Ibid., 123. 105 Closely linked to Pujol and CiU’s nationalist agenda was the emphasis on language and its importance in political and civil society. During the 1960s and 1970s Spanish-speaking immigrants flocked to Catalonia, while first generation immigrants may not have learned Catalan, their children would under the public education system. Tàpies’s mural for the Generalitat effectively aggrandizes medieval literature that links the language to the land. Beyond the emphasis on the Catalan language, the use of these particular manuscripts as subject matter works to perpetuate the idea of Catalonia as an imagined community with a tremendously long history. Using the past, as a means to identify with centuries old civilizations, is a common strategy of nationalization, as it creates a sense of belonging and continuity for individuals. Guibernau discussed Pujol’s stance concerning the importance of language in Catalan Nationalism: Francoism, Transition and Democracy as “crucial for Catalonia to maintain and develop its specific identity, which goes back to the Middle Ages.”8 This sort of language is representative of a continually evoked strategy to justify the idea that Catalan identity is historical and, through extension, significant. It is fitting that the topic of Les quatre cròniques was in accordance with the coalition’s nationalist aspirations and idealization of the Middle Ages as the foundational moment of the Catalan nation, while the same artist’s works for the Ajuntament de Barcelona tend to engage less with catalanisme and more with innovation in contemporary artistic practices, as seen in Monument Homenatge a Picasso (figure 28) and Complement miraculós (2000, figure 36). In addition to commissioning public and semi-public artworks (works that belong to public institutions but are not always accessible to the public), the Generalitat and the Ajuntament de Barcelona financially supported the Fundació Antoni Tàpies. These two entities, along with the Spanish Ministerio de Cultura, contributed significant funds to support the establishment of the ‘private’ foundation, and have done so on an annual basis since the year prior to its opening in 1990.9 Furthermore, the Ajuntament de Barcelona played an even greater role in the years leading up to the inauguration. It seems there were some obstacles for the Fundació to purchase the Casa Montaner i Simón building, however it is unclear what the nature 8 Guibernau, Catalan Nationalism: Francoism, Transition and Democracy (London: Routledge, 2004), 144. For more on language and identity in Catalonia see: Fernández, “Becoming Normal: cultural production and cultural policy in Catalonia,” 343; and Molinero and Ysàs, La cuestión catalana, 250-259. 9 For an extensive examination of this sort of model see: Joaquim Rius Ulldemolins, “Política cultural e hibridación de las instituciones culturales. El caso de Barcelona,” Revista Española de Ciencia Política 29 (July 2012). 106 of this problem was, but it was most likely financial and/or legal in nature. As the artist’s youngest son, Miquel, wrote in the introduction to the book Fundació Antoni Tàpies, the Ajuntament de Barcelona was interested in the project, and decided to “acquire” the edifice, pay for the renovations, and grant it to the foundation. The Mayor of Barcelona Pasqual Maragall signed a contract with Tàpies in early 1987, which definitively established the old Casa Montaner i Simón as a new cultural space in the urban district of l’Eixample. Preparing the building to function as the site of the Fundació Antoni Tàpies began in the spring of 1987. The Ministerio de Cultura paid for interior museum installations after the major renovations, that the Ajuntament financed, were completed. The foundation has not made information concerning annual contributions from the Generalitat, Ajuntament, and Ministerio readily available to the public and, since it is a private institution, is not legally responsible to do so. The Generalitat, however, has facilitated a record of the exact amounts that it paid to the foundation since 1989 (figure 37). Extrapolating from a 2015 report concerning the fragile financial situation of the foundation, the Generalitat has spent the most on a yearly basis, ranging from 150,000 to 839,869 euros per year, while the Figure 36Antoni Tàpies, Complement miraculós, 2000 113 Constitution recognizes Castilian as the nation’s official language while granting power to the autonomous communities to determine co-official languages. For many Catalans, this is a fundamental freedom of supreme importance. The semantic aspect of this artwork is interesting because it expresses linguistic liberty to a geographically diverse audience that traveled to visit the exposition in Andalucía. Furthermore, since 1983 Pujol and CiU had been working towards ‘linguistic normalization,’ a strategy that went hand in hand with the coalition’s nationalist aims. Legislative acts were passed in order to convert Catalan into the “normal language of the public sphere,” with the major focus being in the public education system.23 As a result, the understanding of the Catalan language rose significantly from 81% of the population of Catalonia in 1981 to 94.5% in 2001.24 In 1993, ABC published an article titled “Like Franco, but the reverse,” concerning Catalonia’s attempt to supposedly wipe out the Spanish language from the region.25 Despite criticism like ABC’s accusation, Pujol’s project concerning language revival was not greatly contested in Spain during the 1980s and 1990s. However, in the 2000s the conservative government of José María Aznar unsuccessfully tried to impose a Spanish history curriculum that, as a result, would have eliminated considerable teaching time in the Catalan language. Catalan nationalist’s devotion to official language policies clashed with conservatives that backed a new wave of Spanish nationalism stemming from Madrid. Tàpies’s mural for the Catalan pavilion was created at a time when the legal linguistic ‘normalization’ in Catalonia was on the threshold, about to become a more contentions topic of debate in Spain. Spain hosted both the Universal Exposition and Olympic Games in 1992. For savvy individuals and businesses these enormous events provided an opportunity to make money, quickly and not necessarily in a legal manner (pelotazo). In his fictional novel published in 1993, Sabotaje olímpico, Manuel Vázquez Montalbán satirized the economic, cultural, and moral consequences of these two events, describing them as “privileged dramatizations” of Spain’s modernity.26 He went on joking, “if nobody checked themselves into a mental hospital for being against the Olympic Games, it was not due to tolerance, but the exhibition of tolerance. It [Spain] 23 Dowling, Catalonia Since the Spanish Civil War, 127. 24 Daniel E. Jones, “Pujol y la construcción de un espacio catalán de comunicación. Interacciones entre instituciones políticas y empresas mediáticas (1980-2003),” Ámbitos (16, 2007: 499-524), 505-506. 25 Dowling, Catalonia Since the Spanish Civil War, 130. 26 Manuel Vázquez Montalbán, Sabotaje olímpico (Barcelona: Planeta, 1993), Kindle loc. 115. 114 was surrounded by exhibitionists.”27 Exhibiting Spain as both modern and European was one of the primary goals leading up to the Olympics, people in Spain even associated modernity with “being European” at this time.28 One of Tàpies’s previous works for the cover of the 1985 Europalia International Arts Festival in Brussels linked Spain to European modernity. In 1986, Spain joined the European Economic Community, and would go on to spend an estimated three trillion euros on new construction in Catalonia prior to the commencement of the Olympic Games on July 25, 1992.29 Both public and private funds were poured into the city of Barcelona in order to prepare for the international event. CiU made an outstanding effort to represent Catalan identity to the global community that would visit during the summer, this worked to solidify patriotism within the region but also to establish Barcelona as a tourist destination, with a rhythm and culture different from Madrid. 30 The stadium that was built for the athletic competitions is located on Montjuïc hill, neighboring MNAC, the regions most grandiose art museum formed in 1990 from the fusion of modern and historic public collections and housed in the Palau Nacional. The inauguration ceremony for the Games of the XXV Olympiad were held in the Sala Oval of the Palau Nacional, a stunning, classical hall with an elliptical cupola in the center of the museum. The space, originally designed in 1924 and completed for the 1929 International Exposition, began renovations in 1990 in preparation for the upcoming Olympics. Tàpies was solicited to create an artwork for the Palau Nacional, the idea being that a contemporary piece would compliment the ornate decor of the room while simultaneously presenting Barcelona as a sophisticated center of cultural production. What seems like a straightforward commission on behalf of MNAC’s directors, quickly snowballed into a media frenzy of critiques of Tàpies’s proposal for the new work: an enormous sock, measuring eighteen meters in height (1991, figures 41 and 42). Mitjó [Sock] became incredibly notorious before it was ever made. In the library of the Fundació Antoni Tàpies, there is a white cardboard box that contains a stack of approximately twenty centimeters of photocopied newspaper clippings. Each one is about Mitjó. The articles, published in the final months of 1991 and in 1992 (the majority between January and March), range from local daily papers in Spain to foreign periodicals like 27 Ibid., Kindle loc. 115. 28 Helen Graham and Antonio Sanchez, “The Politics of 1992,” Spanish Cultural Studies, 411. 29 Ferran Brunet i Cid, “The economic impact of the Barcelona Olympics Games, 1986-2004,” Centre d’Estudis Olímpics, 2002, accessed September 1, 2015, http://olympicstudies.uab.es/pdf/wp084_eng.pdf. 30 Dowling, Catalonia Since the Spanish Civil War, 138. 115 Figure 41Antoni Tàpies, Model for Mitjó, 1991 (left) Figure 42Antoni Tàpies, Sketch of Mitjó, 1991 (right) The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. A few memorable titles include: “Does Barcelona Really Want a Statue of a Sock, With a Hole?” in Marseille’s Herald Tribune, “Oda al calcetín” [Ode to the Sock] in Barcelona’s El Periódico, and “Poesia sobre el mitjó” [Poetry about the Sock] in Barcelona’s Avui. The quantity of articles about the unmade sock is tremendous and newspapers from every one of Spain’s seventeen autonomous communities all reported on the debate at least once. Beyond opinion pieces and news concerning the status of the controversy, several cartoons poke fun at the idea of an old, tattered sock constituting a work of art. Girona’s Punt Diari printed a picture of a nude bulb-shaped figure, with an enormous nose and bulging eyes, sitting on a chair while pulling up his sock; upon realizing that the sock has been worn through, leaving his toes exposed, the blob exclaims with excitement: “Wow! A Tàpies!” (figure 43).31 Avui printed a cartoon of two unshaven men standing next to a pair of garbage cans; while digging in the trash, holding up two dirty, smelly socks and looking back to his companion one announces: “We’re rich!!!... I found two Tàpies!!” (figure 44).32 The Catalan nationalist papers Punt Diari and Avui’s drawings address the surface of an argument that an old sock could be 31 Joan Antoni Poch, Punt Diari, Girona, January 26, 1992. Signed “JAP” on the lower right. 32 Unknown artist, Avui, Barcelona, January 26, 1992. Signed “Fer” on lower left. 116 Figure 43Joan Antoni Poch, Drawing published in Punt Diari, Girona, January 26, 1992 (left) Figure 44Unknown, Drawing published in Avui, Barcelona, January 26, 1992 (right) found in the trash or even on your own foot; therefore the sock cannot be considered a serious work of art. However, these laughable images ultimately reinforce the notion that art is supposed to be something else: beautiful, balanced, expensive, meticulous, etc. If all artists shared this conservative thought that art should possess particular qualities, Doménikos Theotokópoulos, also known as El Greco, would not have painted his spectacularly emotive figures, nor de Kooning his terrifyingly impactful women. When asked about the Mitjó project, Tàpies once responded comically “do you wear socks?”33 In March of 1992, a journalist for La Vanguardia, Jaime Gustà Hernández, stated that the “avalanche” of unfavorable opinions concerning Tàpies’s proposed sock sculpture was causing panic amongst local politicians.34 A three month long onslaught of criticism of the project came from art professionals, celebrities, politicians, and the general population. Comments about Mitjó ranged from mild statements of disapproval, such as the Partido Popular’s (PP) spokesman in the Ajuntament de Barcelona Albert Fernández Díaz’s claim that the work possesses a “doubtful 33 Antoni Tàpies, El tatuaje y el cuerpo.... 34 Jaime Gustà Hernández, “El calectín de Tàpies,” La Vanguardia, March 18, 1992, 20. 117 aesthetic,” to bold and unforgiving denunciations.35 Several Barcelona periodicals published opinion letters sent to them from everyday readers. For example, Maria Sala wrote to El Periódico explaining that Mitjó would remind Spaniards of the times that they had to mend sock, instead of buying new pairs, for the whole family. Furthermore, Sala believed that foreigners, upon seeing the sock during the Olympic Games, would return to saying “Spain is different.”36 This is an ironic interpretation of the hypothetical international audience’s reaction because the Franco regime used this slogan to promote the idea of Spain as an “exotic and passionate” country and Tàpies would not have wanted to support the dictator’s ideological maneuvers.37 Abraham Méndez Ramos, in a letter to El Observador, mockingly wondered if the sock is for the left or right foot, if it is of an Olympic athlete and if so what sport they compete in. He went on to discuss his “profound” thought that went into considering the work of art.38 One irate citizen went beyond denouncing the commission and voiced his discontent of several of the artist’s projects. Yves Rus wrote to El Periódico, “The Fundació Tàpies, always empty, did not need a punk hairdo made of metal. Picasso did not need wet scraps of a container left on the street that marks his name. And the art museum does not need an old, white sock that would prove irresistible to our justified tomatoes.” In a mere few lines, Rus attacked the foundation itself, Núvol i cadira, Monument Homenatge a Picasso, and Mitjó and suggests that he is not alone in his desire to ridicule the sock, stating that others would also throw rotten tomatoes at it. The restaurant Gran Colmado in Barcelona playfully included in their daily menu a raffle with a simple survey concerning the sculpture. Patrons were asked if they thought that Mitjó ought to be in the Salón Oval of MNAC (figure 45). The questionnaire included two boxes “sí” and “no” with space to leave your name, address, and 35 “El PP s’oposa a la instal·lació del mitjó de Tàpies al Palau Nacional,” Avui, January 28, 1992. 36 Maria Sala, “El calcetín de Tàpies,” El Periódico, February 18, 1992. 37 Alejandro Quiroga, Goles y banderas. Fútbol e identidades nacionales en España (Madrid: Marcial Pons Historia, 2014), 71. 38 Abraham Méndez Ramos, “En torno a un ‘calcetín,’” El Observador, March 7, 1992. Figure 45Menú Diari Gran Colmado, Barcelona, June 17, 1992 118 phone number for the drawing of two gourmet meals. Gran Colmado reported to have collected over 1,000 responses, the majority voting against the artwork’s installation in the Palau Nacional.39 Nevertheless, solid arguments were made in favor of continuing the project. Diari de Barcelona published an article titled “Visca el mitjó!” that reminded readers of the line of people waiting to see Picasso’s first post-war exhibition in Spain at the Sala Gaspar in 1955 and confrontationally questioned if the citizens of 1950s Barcelona were more open to contemporary art than those of the “city of miracles of ’92.”40 The article continued on to support Tàpies’s work, claiming that the PP’s opposition of Mitjó is in itself a reason to back the artwork. In light of the wide range of public opinion concerning the commission, in January of 1992 MNAC’s patrons under the leadership of Pere Duran i Farell, prudently decided not to make any official decisions until both the Ajuntament and the Generalitat submitted written documents in favor or in opposition of the artwork. MNAC’s President of the board of trustees Duran i Farell stated that he should not make decisions about the sculpture “because it has to do with Barcelona ’92, and will end up being a political and societal act.”41 The Vice President of MNAC’s board, Ramon Guardans, had no problem stating his opposition, creating a schism within the museum’s inner circle.42 The Mayor of Barcelona, Pasqual Maragall, was in favor of the commission. He stated that adding a grand work of art by Tàpies to the empty hall seemed like a wonderful idea, and that he is the “only indisputable artist that we have to do it.”43 Oriol Bohigas i Guardiola, Councilor of Culture of the Ajuntament de Barcelona, architect, urban planner, and independent member of the PSC, agreed with Maragall’s opinion concerning the sculpture yet refused to submit a written report for MNAC’s board. Both Maragall and Bohigas positioned themselves in the debate affirming their support of the Tàpies project, but they decided to keep the Ajuntament officially neutral, advocating that the decision should be left solely to MNAC. Secretary of the PSC and candidate for the presidency of the Generalitat Raimon Obiols met with Maragall to discuss the artwork yet each maintained separate positions. Obiols stated that he was completely against the sculpture and joked that he himself was wearing 39 “Un restaurante crea una encuesta-sorteo sobre el ‘calcetín’ de Antoni Tàpies,” El País, June 18, 1992. See also: Ramon Alberch “Un menú diario en el Archivo Histórico,” El Periódico, June 24, 1992. 40 Àtremis, “Visca el mitjó,” Diari de Barcelona, February 11, 1992. 41 Rosario Fontova, “La sala oval del Palau Nacional se abrirá en el 92,” El Periódico, December 17, 1991. 42 Josep Massot, “El vicepresidente del MNAC se opone a la escultura del calcetín,” La Vanguardia, January 23, 1992. “La Generalitat ‘pide’ consejo sobe una obra de Tàpies,” Segre, January 25, 1992. 43 “Maragall no intervendrá en la decisión sobre el ‘calcetín’ de Tàpies,” El País, February 8, 1992. 119 two “Tàpies,” one on each foot.44 Joan Guitart, the Generalitat’s Councilor of Culture and member of the CDC, commented to El País (in reaction to Maragall’s announcement of his support of Mitjó) that the Generalitat would seek the advice of professionals and that he would not base any political decision on his personal preferences. On February 6, 1992 Guitart proposed finding another location “more appropriate” to put Tàpies’s creation, signifying the Generalitat’s ‘no’ position in the debate.45 The following day, La Vanguardia published a cartoon of a middle aged man with round glasses and a smug look on his face standing in front of the model of Mitjó and next to a grumpy representation of Tàpies with wiry, untamed hair. The man, a caricature of Guitart, tells the artist “you are the best, your hairdo is wonderful, but we have to think of another place for your artwork.” Meanwhile, the sly, slender Guitart is thinking that the sock ought to be sent to the middle of snow-laden Siberia (figure 46).46 Art historian and the first president of the Fundació Miró, Francesc Vicens, criticized Guitart’s department for their disapproval of the project in and article published in La Figure 46Unknown, Drawing published in La Vanguardia, Barcelona, February 7, 1992 44 “A Obiols no le gusta el calectín,” Segre, February 8, 1992. 45 “La Generalitat se opone al calcetín de Tàpies,” La Vanguardia, February 6, 1992. Guitart later became President of MNAC’s board (1996-2004). 46 Unknown artist, La Vanguardia, Barcelona, February 7, 1992. 120 Vanguardia. He reminded readers that the decision was “in theory” that of the museum, MNAC did not need to consult the Generalitat to install a new work of art, and Guitart could not veto Mitjó. Furthermore, Vicens stated that the artwork would “help to dignify” the space, which had been neglected since 1929 and was finally under restoration, “which ought to satisfy all Catalans.”47 Jordi Solé Tura, Spanish Minister of Culture and member of the PSC, characterized the problem as a clash between creative liberty and public funding; adding that “personally, Tàpies’s sock, doesn’t particularly enthuse me.”48 The heated debate concerning Tàpies’s proposal continued through the first months of 1992. On February 26th MNAC announced that they would not make any decisions until after the local elections, that would be celebrated on March 15th. Under normal circumstances, the board meetings were held on the first Tuesday of every month, however Duran i Farell did not want partisan interests to sway the decision about Mitjó.49 While MNAC’s board stalled the decision concerning the controversial commission as members of the board came from both the local and regional governing institutions and could not come to an agreement on the issues, the Ajuntament de Barcelona decided to award Tàpies with a gold medal of the city. On February 29, the press released that Tàpies would be recognized the following Tuesday (March 3rd) for his dedication to art, his generosity in strengthening Barcelona’s cultural activity, and his unwavering defense of democratic values and human rights.50 While the Ajuntament did not submit an official report to MNAC in favor or against the Mitjó project, honoring the artist at this moment in time is indicative of the city government’s stance. Furthermore, the date in which the medal would be awarded is, coincidentally or not, the first Tuesday of the month. MNAC would have been meeting about Mitjó on this occasion, had Duran i Farell not decided to change the date due to upcoming elections. Guitart recalled how the incident played out in a conversation with me. He remembered that with “much” consensus between both MNAC’s board and directors, that it was not the right moment to carry out the project, and that after construction was completed in the Sala Oval they could rethink it. He said that he had to communicate this decision to Tàpies, emphasizing that it 47 “Vicens: Guitart no puede vetar el calcetín,” La Vanguardia, February 7, 1992. 48 Rafael Villabona, “Solé Tura: ‘El “calcetín de Tàpies” no me entusiasma demasiado,’” El Observador, February 5, 1992. 49 “El MNAC no decidirá sobre el ‘calcetín de Tàpies hasta después de las elecciones,” El País, February 25, 1992. 50 “El Ayuntamiento de Barcelona concede a Antoni Tàpies la medalla de oro de la cuidad,” El País, February 29, 1992. 121 was not a political choice but a circumstantial one. He expressed that “some people and media sources did interpret it as a political decision,” yet he did not see it as such.51 Finally, he expressed that the work of politicians does not include the critiquing of art. Pepe Serra, Director of MNCAC since 2011, recalled the “totally ridiculous polemic,” though he was in his mid-twenties at the time and just finishing his studies. He told me that the politicians, although they have to regulate public space, ought not to dictate over artistic style, as it is unjust for the artist.52 He compared the Mitjó debate to a current issue concerning the renovation of the facade of the Gran Teatre del Liceu, an opera house built in the nineteenth century in need of restoration. The project’s proposal includes the architect Frederic Amat’s vision, which has provoked much debate both amongst politicians and the general public. One report went as far as calling the conflict a “war” within the Ajuntament.53 Mitjó was not the first, nor was it the last artwork that would cause politicians to become involved in artistic projects in Catalonia. As much as Guitart defended the fact that the MNAC’s decision was circumstantial, politics and politicians were undeniably involved in this battle between government and artistic expression. On April 23, 1992 Duran i Farell publically spoke about the status of the renovations of the Palau Nacional. In a brief statement he highlighted his main concerns dealing with the financial future of the restorations. He explained that MNAC’s first priority was to raise funds, then, they would see about whether or not Tàpies’s Mitjó would fit into the plan. He addressed the overwhelming amount of attention the work was receiving and stated that debating about it is positive. However, he reiterated that the patrons of MNAC have more pressing priorities at the moment, like preparing for the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games.54 On July 22, 1992 The Wall Street Journal published an article titled “Mr. Tàpies’s Unmatched Sock.” Comically introducing the abundance of athletes in attendance of the international competition in Barcelona but the lack of one infamous athletic sock, reporter Lee Lescaze reviewed the history of the still unmade Mitjó. While the refurbishment of the Sala Oval was completed in time for the Summer Olympics, the hall was left void of any contrasting, 51 Interview with Joan Guitart, July 12, 2016. 52 Interview with Pepe Serra, June 27, 2016. 53 María Jesús Cañizares, “Guerra en el ayuntamiento por la nueva fachada del Liceu,” Crónica, March 31, 2016, accessed July 15, 2016, http://www.cronicaglobal.com/es/notices/2016/03/guerra-en-el-ayuntamiento-por-la-nuevafachada-del-liceu-35846.php. 54 “Duran: ‘Que hi hagi mitjó no és decisiu pel museu,’” Diari de Barcelona, April 23, 1992. 122 contemporary work of art. For months, Tàpies and his sock were both attacked and defended in the local and international media without much official resolve. Lescaze’s take on the controversy was positive. He praised the productivity of this sort of public discussion, characterizing it as a “stimulating” and a “mark of civilization,” concluding that in Barcelona “a faith in the importance and power of art is alive and well.”55 After the conclusion of the Olympic Games, MNAC’s Director, Xavier Barral, also spoke about the positive side of debating about art. Barral, speaking specifically about Mitjó, said “it has been beneficial for MNAC, a lot of people did not even know we [the museum] existed [before].”56 The topic began to draw less media attention after the closing ceremony of the Olympics. Over a year went by before any substantial news concerning the project surfaced once again. In December 1993, the new President of MNAC’s board, former Vice President Ramon Guardans, stated that Tàpies’s sock “will not be installed as long as I am president.”57 Guardans spoke specifically about his opposition of the work that would take up much space in the Sala Oval. He did not address the prospect of locating the artwork in another part of the building. Talk of Mitjó lasted two years, before Guardans seemed to bury the topic with his firm and patronizing statement. Politics, personal preferences, and financial shortcomings all played a part in the failure of MNAC’s initiative to commission a contemporary artwork for the Palau Nacional in time for the Olympic Games. The museum’s directors and board of trustees handled the situation in a way that benefitted their publicity. Drawing out the decision-making processes, stalling it during local elections, involving political institutions that did not need to be involved, and leaving the project unsolved for more than a year gained exposure for the museum, both positive and negative. Tàpies, likewise, became the focus of much attention due to the controversy. Negatively, for those who chose to publically mock and denounce his art and positively, for those who supported the sock and valued his professional career. I asked Toni Tàpies if he remembered how his father felt concerning the whole Mitjó episode. Without hesitation, he recalled: 55 Lee Lescaze, “Mr. Tàpies’s Unmatched Sock,” The Wall Street Journal, July 22, 1992, A10. 56 “Barral dice que la poémica del calcetín beneficia al MNAC,” La Vanguardia, September 10, 1992. Over 142,000 people visited the Sala Oval of the museum that summer. 57 “Tàpies, descalzo,” ABC de las artes, December 1993 n. 90, accessed September 9, 2015, http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/madrid/cultural/1994/02/04/024.html 129 Figure 49Antoni Tàpies, Sala de reflexió, Universitat Pompeu Fabra, Barcelona (left) Figure 50Unknown, lararium in Pompeii’s Casa dei Vettii, 62-79 AD (right) wrote that the snake has clear biblical references, however, as Tàpies was agnostic, the snake is more likely to reference a different sort of spiritual symbol.72 In ancient Pompeii and Herculaneum, households of all social classes had shrine-like altars that functioned as part of ritual ceremonies to protect the domestic realm. These lararia were composed of architectural elements generally framing a painting. The pictures often included snakes; a fine example exists in the ruins of the atrium of the Casa dei Vettii in Pompeii (figure 50). Snakes were an important protective symbol in the home. While the best-preserved examples are in Italy, there has been evidence of similar images in Northern Africa and the Iberian Peninsula, also predating biblical references to snakes.73 The coiled snake in Tàpies’s sculpture, in the context of a quiet retreat made for thinking, seems closely related to the safeguarding function of the snakes in ancient domestic lararia. Furthermore, the Sala de reflexió is a purposefully non-denominational. It imitates the Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas designed in 1971 as a meditative space, an 72 “Sala de Reflexión en la Universidad Pompeu Fabra,” On (Barcelona), 1997 num. 180, 95. 73 George K. Boyce, "Significance of the Serpents on Pompeian House Shrines," American Journal of Archaeology 46 (1942). 130 “intimate sanctuary available to people of every belief.”74 Lined with Mark Rothko’s murals, the inviting interior provides an environment that is rarely found in the urban fabric. It is a quiet, calm sphere dedicated to the intellectual and emotional condition of the people who visit it. Similarly, Universitat Pompeu Fabra’s Sala de reflexió aims to achieve a spiritual aura free from religious connotations. Tàpies expressed his objectives of the project, highlighting the unnatural, accelerating rhythm and pace of life that he thought necessitated a counterbalance: Faced with the excesses of bustle, mental dispersion and the innumerable cults to false realities to which we are subjected in present-day societies, it seems to me very opportune to contribute to the creation of a space and images which favor seclusion, concentration and, in short, a closer approximation to our real nature.75 In the months following the completion of the work in September of 1996, the local media described it as a place to “concentrate and meditate, in the midst of the distortion of the contemporary world.”76 The artwork inside the Sala de reflexió, instead of taking on the role of a spectacle on view in a museum, is not the primary focus of the visitors. The art is meant to provide an environment conducive to the individual’s needs for quiet contemplation. Tàpies thought that the space was ideal, as the overwhelming bustle of many museums has changed the way people experience works of art.77 His project aimed for an emotive reaction that reverberates back to the people who visit, not the work of art itself. “Tàpies’s Chapel” was closed to the public shortly after its inauguration. As part of Pompeu Fabra’s 25th anniversary celebration, the Sala de reflexió reopened to the public in 2016, with an entrance fee of five euros that includes admission into both Tàpies’s room and another small gallery exhibiting additional artworks by Tàpies and Antonio Saura.78 74 Rothko Chapel, accessed September 18, 2015, http://rothkochapel.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=3&Itemid=6. 75 “Sala de Reflexión en la Universidad Pompeu Fabra,” 95. 76 Pilar Parcerisas, “Una cambra per al silenci,” Avui, February 6, 1997. 77 Llàtzer Moix, “Tàpies reinvindica el arte como vehículo de reflexión en su monumental obra para la UPF,” La Vanguardia, December 6, 1996, accessed June 9, 2016, http://hemeroteca.lavanguardia.com/preview/1996/07/28/pagina41/33957519/pdf.html?search=Sala%20de%20Reflexi%C3%B3n%20T%C3%A0pies. 78 David Palacios, “En el interior de la capilla laica de Tàpies,” La Vanguardia, June 5, 2016, accessed June 9, 2016, http://www.lavanguardia.com/local/barcelona/20160602/402225411601/capilla-laica-tapies-upf-reflexion.html. 131 As journalist Xavier Barral i Altet wrote in Avui about the space, art is only valuable when it is integrated in life.79 Art cannot be both valuable and detached from society. Tàpies was aware of this and sought to create involved works that have a real social function. He designed the Sala de reflexió for Pompeu Fabra, a public university that seeks to uphold “the principles of freedom, democracy, justice, equality, independence, and plurality.”80 The meditation room that he created for the newly established school did not include any overt references to one of his most commonly addressed themes: Catalan history and identity. Pompeu Fabra is not a historical institution and its aims are to embrace plurality, although the school is named after one of the most important figures in the history of the Catalan language, Pompeu Fabra i Poch.81 Accordingly, Tàpies left out references to any one particular national identity. However, CiU created the school as an elite university, using a name that recapitulated a strategy of nationalization seeking to link the present with figures from the past. While the Sala de reflexió does not look much like Tàpies’s works for the Generalitat, the project was tied to CiU. The following chapter will elaborate on works that do focus on the subject of Catalonia and Catalan identity, and it includes an analysis of the direct relationship between art and politics in both public and non-public works of art. 4.3 Concluding Remarks A single, simple cartoon captures many of themes outlined in this chapter. Public funding, politics, time, and space are all addressed in Jaume Perich Escala’s (known as “El Perich”) witty drawing (figure 51).82 A stout, dumfounded man stands in front of a map with the title “How to circulate Barcelona.” The chart is one ridiculous, squiggly line that transverses from the upper right to the lower left in an abundant series of loops. Below the title, it says that it is a design made by Antoni Tàpies and in parenthesis sponsored by the Ajuntament de Barcelona. This 79 Xavier Barral i Altet, “Coherència tapiana,” Avui, January 7, 1997. 80 “A Brief History of a Young University,” Universitat Pompeu Fabra, accessed June 19, 2016, https://www.upf.edu/universitat/en/presentacio/historia.html. 81 In 1904 he published Tractat de ortografia catalana which outlines the standards of modern Catalan orthography and in 1911 he wrote a book on Catalan grammar in Spanish titled Qüestions de gramàtica catalana. 82 This image, along with several thousand more of Perich’s works, pertains to the Arxiu Municipal de Barcelona. It has no specified publication or date. However, considering its reference to Tàpies’s 1990 spiral sculpture Núvol i cadira and Perich’s 1995 death, the drawing must date to the early 1990s. 132 Figure 51Jaume Perich Escala, Drawing with title “Com circular per Barcelona,” circa 1990-1995, Arxiu Municipal de Barcelona laughable image plays with a number of ideas starting with the practicality of the artist’s work. The map recalls the metal coils of his Núvol i cadira sculpture that crowns the building of his foundation. It also suggests the non-traditional or even non-practical tendency of the artist, as a normal map would show visitors a rational route through the city. The title and subtitles are written in Catalan and point out the Ajuntament’s support of the artist. In a way, the cartoon is as ambiguous as some of Tàpies’s Matter Paintings. Perich, in acknowledging Tàpies’s idiosyncrasy and the local government’s patronage of the artist, perpetuates his prominence while simultaneously poking fun at him. A more sardonic interpretation, on the other hand, could consider the cartoon as a critique of the Ajuntament’s prudency, efficiency, and public spending. Although Tàpies’s body of work engaged with international artistic tendencies and exhibited avant-garde techniques, it was also inextricably tied to the local institutions that supported him, 133 critics that criticized him, cartoonists that poked fun at him, and Catalan compatriots that backed him.83 The Generalitat de Catalunya financially supported Tàpies throughout the 1990s and continues to make annual contributions to the foundation today. While the institution did not back the installation of Mitjó in the Palau Nacional, it is the body that has provided the most financial aid for the Fundació Antoni Tàpies. The Ajuntament de Barcelona has also played a major role in funding the artist and his projects. Through extension, both CiU and PSC significantly bolstered Tàpies’s professional career despite their ideological differences. Without the support of the most influential political institutions in Catalonia, Tàpies’s exposure, repertoire, and legacy would have been reduced considerably. Each of these two institutions maintained very different relationships with the artist. The Generalitat supported the Tàpies’s nationalist representations, using some of these compositions to promote a Catalan nationalist narrative linked to historic civilizations. The Ajuntament, on the other hand, sought to present cutting-edge works in order to promote Barcelona’s image as a cosmopolitan center with a progressive cityscape. This distinction became most evident in the Ajuntament’s approval of the proposed Mitjó project and the Generalitat’s hesitation and final disapproval. This debate demonstrates much about the dynamic between art and politics. While a sizeable piece of gaudy red-and-yellow striped cloth is acceptable and appropriate in just about any corner of Catalonia, the Generalitat did not see that a work of contemporary art by an internationally acclaimed artist was fit for the center of an art museum. Whether or not he took up subjects that were Catalan or more instinctive and abstract, Tàpies continued to work the subversive style that he developed in the 1950s under the Franco regime. His decision to continue to create in this manner, decades after the dictator’s death, is not particularly surprising. As journalist Luis Apostua pointed out in 1992, being an artist and antiFrancoist was a lucrative vocation. “Why wouldn’t Tàpies make a living off of antifranquismo? It is a known, profitable enterprise.”84 The following chapter will discuss in greater detail some of Tàpies’s compositions that directly reference Catalonia, unlike the old sock, and the ways in which visual material can substantiate the idea that a nation is a natural, fixed entity. 83 Quotation marks are used in respect to Billig’s ideas concerning how politics often address the national audience as such, creating an us/them divide that becomes null once the topic jumps from the national to the global level. For more see: Michael Billig, Banal Nationalism. 84 Apostua, “Calcetin con millones.” 5 The Visualization of a Catalan Nation This chapter considers how Tàpies represented the image of Catalonia through 2006, which directly links some of his most visible works of art to the realm of politics. These images have contributed to the representation of the idea of Catalonia as a real and valuable place, not an imagined nation. “The Visualization of a Catalan Nation” analyzes compositions that deal with national identity, contemporary issues, and historical commemoration. The first section examines the ways in which politics have affected the work of the artist, paying particular attention to the topic of Catalan nationalism and the various times associated with the idea of the nation. The following section includes a discussion about the direct links between Tàpies’s art and politics. The objective of this chapter is not to create an argument concerning Tàpies’s own identity and politics, but to expose the ways in which he formulated his images, many of which are associated with Catalonia. 5.1 Art, Nationalism, and Identity As argued in the previous chapters, Tàpies established a style that remained constant throughout his long career. However, the subject matter of his artworks is not equally consistent. Catalan culture is a recurring and politically charged theme that he tended to work with. Returning to a pair of examples introduced prior to this chapter, this time focusing on their nationalist content, allows for a more nuanced analysis of the political implications of the artist’s work. The word “visualize” can mean forming a mental image, imagining, or making something visible to the eye.1 “The visualization of a Catalan nation” has a double meaning. It is something that Tàpies created, making the idea of a national history and identity visible. It is simultaneously something that beholders imagine upon seeing some of his artworks. A closer look at artworks such as Pintura romànica i barretina, Les quatre cròniques, and the mural at the Universal Exposition in Sevilla illustrate the artist’s role in presenting and perpetuating ideas concerning the legitimacy of Catalonia’s nationhood and ‘its’ values and identity (figures 1, 4, and 40). 1 Oxford Dictionaries, accessed September 21, 2015, http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/visualize. 136 A nation is an abstract idea. Nations do not exist without humans conceptualizing their citizens, borders, and organization. When an artist makes an artwork, a single image cannot wholly capture the idea of a unified ‘imagined’ community. However, they can represent concepts that perpetuate or transform the idea of the nation. A humorous example is Horatio Greenough’s 1840 sculpture of the first President of the United States, George Washington, posed in the manner of an ancient Greek god (figure 52). Seated in a chair, with a toga that only covers him from the waist down, Washington holds a sword in one hand and raises the other towards the sky. He is wearing sandals. Why did Greenough decide to depict the late president in this manner? He wanted to emphasize the importance of freedom and democracy, aligning his central figure with a god of one of the most cultured civilizations of the ‘Western’ world. What does this absurd (in that Washington is entirely idealized and wearing clothing that seems ridiculous for Philadelphian climate) statue say about the United States? It glorifies its past, as the statue was made over a century after Washington’s birth, and it promotes the single most important ‘American’ value via a Latin inscription on the back that reads: “Horatio Greenough made this image as a great example of freedom, and will not survive without freedom itself.” The sculpture alludes to the victory over the British Empire and establishment of a free country. However, the statue fails to address that while American Revolutionaries won liberty from foreign rule, during Washington’s presidency Native Americans, slaves, and women were excluded from participating in the new ‘free’ state. Art, in this case, perpetuates the idea that the ‘Founding Fathers’ of the United States of America were the harbingers of freedom, giving them a heroic, divine status. Art is also able to bring into question already established knowledge concerning the nation. For example, Peter Saul’s 1967 painting Saigon is a fierce critique of US policy during the Vietnam War (figure 53). Saul’s representation of American G.I.’s raping and torturing the family of the central figure, a Vietnamese girl labeled “innocent virgin,” is both appealing in its Figure 52Horatio Greenough, George Washington, 1840 137 Figure 53Peter Saul, Saigon, 1967 bright colors and appalling in its content. Reiterating the action of the canvas is a phrase at the bottom, “white boys torturing and raping the people of Saigon: high class version.” This artwork condemns the behaviors of American soldiers, undercutting the notion that the United States military is a protective and valiant organization. Greenough and Saul’s works are two examples of how art participates in the conception of the nation, an idea that somehow manages to organize contemporary societies and individuals’ identities. How is Tàpies’s artwork related to Catalan nationalism and identity? Remember that both nationalism and identity are not fixed terms, they can both change over time and through space. Furthermore, contrary to popular beliefs, nationalism is neither a natural phenomenon nor limited to extreme groups, such as fascists or separatists, as Michael Billig pointed out in Banal Nationalism. 2 Linking Tim Edensor’s idea that sensuality plays a significant role in the construction of national identity and Alejandro Quiroga’s elaboration on Fernando Molina’s “personalization” of the nation, it becomes clear that national identity and nationalism are bound 2 Billig, Banal Nationalism. 138 to human emotion and personal experiences.3 Tàpies addressed the Catalan nation in three ways: verbally, via artworks that employ obvious symbols, colors, words, and names of local ‘heroes’ associated with Catalonia, and through his stylistic embodiment of these elements. The ways in which Tàpies has presented symbols like the stripes of the senyera or the date September 11th contribute to the emotional charge that these works of art carry. Furthermore, they aggrandize the fabricated concept that nations are unchanging, definable, and historically justified entities. Tàpies’s artwork often takes up themes related to the Catalan nation, expressing both his own ideas concerning his national identity and representing nationalism visually, in space rather than time. The difference between Tàpies’s work and more bold examples such as Saigon is remarkable. Saul’s combination of flashy colors with shocking, cartoonish images makes the picture memorable. Once viewers allow their eyes to adjust to the shades of neon, they are left with a repulsive, disgraceful picture that remains imprinted in their memory. Tàpies’s work, on the other hand, often employs a more subtle approach to the transmission of national ideas. For example, Pintura romànica i barretina does not leave beholders with such a fierce sensation directly linked to the idea of the nation (figure 1). However, the image does reinforce the association between an everyday object, the red hat, and its iconographic significance in Catalonia. The international audience may not be aware that the representation of the barretina establishes two groups: ‘us’ and ‘them.’ That particular cap is linked to a host of meanings, but is primarily associated with considering oneself a Catalan. The extraordinary aspect of this picture is in its balance between the mundane and the revolutionary. Tàpies created Pintura romànica i barretina in 1971, during the late Franco dictatorship and during the same year as the first Assemblea de Catalunya. While the canvas does not depict a single, direct idea, Tàpies suggests themes that lead to a particular idea. The barretina is the most obvious symbol that deals with the concept of Catalan identity.4 The rope alludes to violence and intolerable yet ‘legal’ acts that the dictatorial regime committed after the war. The combination of the rope and hat forms a pendulum, showing time standing still. An anti-Francoist artist’s representation of Catalan identity, violence, and time during the early 1970s transmits a powerful message about the past and a hopeful one for the future. But Tàpies did not spell-out his ideas literally, as seen in Saigon. 3 Edensor, National Identity, Popular Culture and Everyday Life, 140; Quiroga, “The Three Spheres...” 693; Fernando Molina Aparicio, Mario Onaindia (1948-2003): Biografía patria (Madrid: Biblioteca Nueva, 2012), 54. 4 The barretina, however, was also used under Francoism as a way of hailing regional traditions. See: Núñez Seixas, “La región y lo local en el primer franquismo,” 137; and ABC, March 23, 1974, accessed September 5, 2016, http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/madrid/abc/1974/04/23/001.html. 145 of other standardized forms of speech we call languages. However, the medieval peasant did not approach strangers asking which languages they were able to speak. They simply spoke and would or would not understand each other.22 The concept is obvious, yet the current preoccupation with defining our ‘mother tongue’ and the rules of that language tend to mask the basic functions of any language: communication. Languages constantly change and transform to facilitate communication. Medieval Catalan was certainly quite different from the twenty-first century form spoken today in Northeast Spain. However, Les quatre cròniques looks to the medieval manuscripts as important sources, as origins of a celebrated culture. The artwork’s historic content and current location in the government building epitomizes the Janus-faced rhetoric of Catalan nationalism in a visual format. It is a visualization of a Catalan nation. Another example of Tàpies’s commitment to illustrating ideas concerning Catalonia is his 1999 poster made for the centenary celebration of F.C. Barcelona. In 1974, Miró made a 75th anniversary picture for same team. Tàpies’s image has a yellow field with four red stripes in the shape of arrows pointing upwards. In the center is a large black “B” starting the word Barça with an outline of a soccer cleat below. A rectangular color sample of the team’s uniform colors is at the bottom. Although Tàpies was not particularly fond of the sport, this poster showed his support for the local team, its legacy, and imagined future. This poster is more than just an image promoting a local club. Sebastian Balfour and Alejandro Quiroga explained in The Reinvention of Spain: Nation and Identity Since Democracy, people emotionally identify with unofficial national symbols like those of popular sports teams. Franco’s “appropriation” of the national soccer team and Real Madrid instigated some sports fans in Catalonia and the Basque Country to demonstrate their allegiance to F.C. Barcelona and Athletic de Bilbao as a means of positioning their stance against the dictator.23 Symbols and emotions carry a significant weight in the production and perception of meaning within these types of unofficial spheres. Tàpies’s poster was not meant to be a mere reproducible graphic (which can also connote important ideas), but an emotionally charged image that commemorates the history of an important club in Barcelona. Furthermore, this team has traditionally been linked to both Catalan identity and nationalism.24 Returning to Edensor’s focus on the importance of sensuality and of feelings in relation to national identity, pictorial representations are a means of producing and reproducing 22 Billig, Banal Nationalism, 31. 23 Balfour and Quiroga, The Reinvention of Spain, 144-145. See also: Quiroga, Goles y banderas. 24 Quiroga, Goles y banderas, 134-135; 244. See also: Guibernau, Catalan Nationalism, 31-32. 146 sentimental responses concerning the iconography of the nation. Art, like music, has an extraordinary capacity of quickly being able to trigger emotive responses. Reading the lyrics of the National Anthem of the United States of America is dramatically different from listening to someone sing it in front of thousands of spectators. Seeing Les quatre cròniques hanging on the wall in the Sala Tarradellas could elicit certain feelings that beholders would not achieve through reading the four texts that Tàpies decided to represent. Art is certainly not the only way to shape an individual’s feelings concerning the nation and their own national identity. However, images are an important component contributing to the constantly transforming nature of national histories and origins, regardless of whether or not they only exist in the imagination of individuals. 5.2 Art and Politics, Direct links As discussed in the previous chapter, art with indirect links to politics can be subjective. Images may allude to political issues without explicitly expressing a particular position based on the visual evidence. This chapter has examined examples of artworks with direct links to politics. Some were commissions that political institutions solicited from the artist, while others were artworks made available to the public eye in various formats and locations. What they share in common is definitive political implications. It is not a coincidence that Tàpies’s works for the Generalitat tend to take up themes that deal with Catalan identity but those for the Ajuntament de Barcelona and the Universitat Pompeu Fabra are more abstract, experimental, and cutting-edge. Any commissioned artwork automatically becomes political, as an exchange is dependent on certain criteria that the artist and patron establish. Alternative examples, such as Rinzen at MACBA or Sabadell’s donated bell sculpture become political via their content and public installation. Tàpies’s bed hanging on the wall is one of the first sights that visitors see upon entering Barcelona’s contemporary art museum in the heart of the city. The work extends into an exterior patio, permanently occupying a considerable exhibition space within the museum. Furthermore, the work belongs to the State, however its display and care and has been left to the institution. Tàpies’s gift to Sabadell could have been installed anywhere. However the Ajuntament decided to place it in a central square and pay the artist back with a substantial 147 donation for his foundation. Sometimes the direct links between art and politics are quite visible, as seen in the Expo’92 mural. Other examples, like Rinzen, require more thought and investigation in order to uncover the connections to politics, and through extension, power. Another way that artworks are directly linked to politics is via their exhibition space. Rooms, entryways, businesses, parks, and streets are transformable spaces. The mere presence of art can alter the signals that individuals receive upon entering these places. Think about entering the lobby of a luxury hotel. The walls are often covered in artworks and mirrors with lavish frames and a color palette that makes visitors feel calm and welcome. Now think about entering a dentist’s office. There may be some art hanging on the wall, but the general impression is a lightly colored space that seems clean. A certain ambiance is achieved in each of these private locations. Turning to public locations, think about the last time you considered how the architectural or artistic elements structured one particular place. Simply having art on the wall tends to dignify a space as important. It is not a coincidence that the western entrances of Madrid’s Retiro Park are lined with marble statures and trimmed gardens, whereas the eastern entrances are nowhere near as extravagant, as they are closer to residential neighborhoods. Entering the park from the city center, on the western side, is an entirely different experience. Grandiose sculptures add an element of beauty but simultaneously impose structures of power. For example, there is a pathway lined on both sides with large marble statues of nine royal males and two queens, whose reign ranged from the seventh to the eighteenth century. The majority of the men are holding a scroll, dignifying their diplomatic skills in favor over violence. The women, however, are empty handed. They are idealized and elegantly dressed like the men, but they do not hold anything. The arrangement of the sculptures form a path and visitors know where to walk because the figures form a lane that leads to the center of the park. Why are these sculptures located in the western side of the park? They romanticize, memorialize, and commemorate historic leaders of Castile in an impressive fashion most accessible to tourists. Public works of art structure the fabric of contemporary cities and parks. They create an ambiance that often conceals less obvious structures of power and social order. They are not merely decorative and ought to be analyzed as objects that structure thought, movement, sentiments, and perception.25 25 For more on the relations between space, setting, structure and power see: Edelman, From Art to Politics; David Boswell and Jessica Evans, (eds.), Representing the Nation: A Reader. Histories, heritage and museums (London: 148 Arjun Appadurai and Carol A. Breckenridge characterized the external factors that play a major role in museums in a chapter about experiencing exhibitions in India.26 They argued that museums in the twenty-first century have “internal and external logics... in which spectacle, discipline, and state power become interlinked with questions of entertainment, education, and control.”27 Some of these “external and internal logics” often remain unnoticed to visitors. Space is one of these elements. Murray Edelman discussed this in his chapter “Architecture, Space, and Social Order,” to express how complex physical spaces are, despite how simple they may seem.28 He was particularly concerned with public spaces, and articulated that their “multiple realities” affect social order and the assertion of “established hierarchies of status and power.”29 Edelman went on to explain how public spaces can also provoke visitors “to reconcile ambivalence in themselves and ambiguities regarding the social world, to turn from one meaning to another, or to defy logic by holding several incompatible cognitions at the same time.”30 These ideas about spaces are also applicable to the structure of art museums, especially public ones. Individuals are often too preoccupied examining the objects that the institution presents to think critically about the form and structure within which museum professionals have situated those particular objects. The arguments against installing Tàpies’s Mitjó in the Palau Nacional addressed the way that the artwork would change the space. The presence of a large, wonky sculpture of a sock would deeply change the aura of the ornate and classically decorated hall. The juxtaposition of the old, traditional architectural style and the new contemporary style of the sculpture, albeit of an old article of clothing, would send contradictory signals of artistic value. The conservative, orderly decor won the battle, as Mitjó never found its home in MNAC. However, Tàpies’s style has been valued in alternative locations such as the Universitat Pompeu Fabra’s Sala de reflexió. He created a stark room with moveable chairs hanging from the wall and a symmetrical canvas at the line of sight to provide a meditative space that is meant to stimulate concentrated reflection. Here, the artwork structures the interior in its pairing down of excessive content. The canvas is a Routledge, 1999); and Doina Petrescu, (ed.), Altering Practices: Feminist Politics and Poetics of Space (London: Routledge, 2007). 26 Arjun Appadurai and Carol A. Breckenridge, “Museums are Good to Think: Heritage on view in India,” Representing the Nation, 404. 27 Ibid., 418. 28 Edelman, From Art to Politics, 90. 29 Ibid., 90. 30 Ibid., 90. 149 focal point, the chairs are functional yet optional. Distraction is not an option because the goal is that the artwork gives beholders an entry point of thinking without overwhelming or over stimulating. The Sala de reflexió is a place specifically designed to transport beholders to an alternative, spiritual realm without religious connotations. The art creates the appropriate environment to achieve this goal, just as the art of a luxury hotel seeks to provide a sense of comfort, a home away from home. Art historians often focus on the content of individual works of art without acknowledging how that particular piece transforms particular spaces. A more nuanced approach to the study of art and its role in society is needed in order to better comprehend the relations between art, ideology, politics, and power. This is especially true for investigations concerning public works. In 2006 Tàpies created a cover for the Estatut d’Autonomia de Catalunya (figure 5), a document that sought to grant Catalonia greater political autonomy in amending the 1979 Statue of Autonomy. In 2004 the members of the Catalan parliament began to draft the work that would give the Generalitat more power and control. I have not been able to find any documentation regarding this work of art. Toni Tàpies was not certain about the conditions of the cover piece, but he assured me that it was a commission, supposedly on behalf of the Generalitat.31 Pasqual Maragall and Artur Mas were photographed together on September 29, 2005 in front of one of Tàpies’s paintings on the day before the Catalan parliament approved the statute. However, the picture that appeared in the El País photo was the painting titled 7 de novembre (1971), a homage to the 1971 Assemblea de Catalunya, not the cover illustration that Tàpies made for the Estatut d’Autonomia.32 El País did mention Tàpies’s 7 de novembre in the background, but did not say anything about his artwork for the newly approved statue. The text of the Estatut d’Autonomia reflected Maragall’s vision for the foundation of a multinational, federal Spain. Although he was the first to defeat Pujol’s monopoly over the Generalitat, Maragall and the PSC failed to provide a successful alternative to CiU’s conception of nationalism.33 This later affected the party’s voter allegiance. Nevertheless, all the major parties, save for the PP, supported the statute. The preamble expresses the historical authenticity 31 Interview with Toni Tàpies, February 4, 2016. 32 “El tripartito y CiU dan luz verde al Estatut tras un acuerdo sobre financiación y enseñanza pública,” El País, September 29, 2005, accessed August 29, 2016, http://elpais.com/elpais/2005/09/29/actualidad/1127981820_850215.html. See also: “El parlamento de Cataluña aprueba el nuevo Estatuto,” El País, September 30, 2005, accessed August 29, 2016, http://elpais.com/elpais/2005/09/30/actualidad/1128068217_850215.html. 33 Dowling, Catalonia Since the Spanish Civil War, 141. 150 of the community and their desire for sovereignty. “The Catalan people have maintained a constant will to self-government over the course of centuries, embodied in such institutions as the Generalitat—created in 1359 by the Cervera Corts— and in its own specific legal system....” The introduction goes on to outline the major objectives while clearly stating that the proposed changes would be in solidarity with Spain and within the ambit of Europe.34 On June 18, 2006 the new Estatut d’Autonomia de Catalunya passed and came into effect on August 9th of the same year. The passing of the new statue, and the Constitutional Court’s 2010 ruling determining that 14 articles were unconstitutional and 27 needed to be modified, greatly impacted the trajectory of Catalan nationalism. The court’s decision and its timing, two years after the onset of a global economic crisis, ultimately provoked a rapid shift away from the movement’s dormant or banal form to a more active, hot topic.35 The cover design is the size of a normal piece of paper, with a cream-colored background, black letters demarking the title “Estatut de Catalunya” the year, three “+” marks arranged vertically, and Tàpies’s signature. The most vivid aspect of the design is underneath the writing where there is a curved “S” shape with five blobs to the right, in the same color and texture as smeared blood. This work mimics the Expo’92 mural but its format is distinct. The small, intimate artwork is for private and up-close viewing, like Goya’s Disasters of War etchings. It accompanies the text, and is physically and directly related to politics. You cannot touch this cover without also touching the Statue. Part of this artwork’s allure is its simultaneously visual and tactile stimulus and its approachable scale. The object is meant to be handled, instead of seen from afar with an imaginary boundary separating the work of art from the beholder. However, not all works of art that are directly political are as recognizable as Tàpies’s cover for the Estatut d’Autonomia de Catalunya. Abandoned projects like Mitjó also ought to be analyzed in relation to government and political power. Even though the sculpture does not take up any flagrant or controversial content in its subject matter, its history includes intense partisan debates. In From Art to Politics, Edelman highlighted the need to further delve into these sort of nuanced relationships between art and the public sphere: 34 Generalitat de Catalunya, Preámbulo, accessed October 9, 2015, http://web.gencat.cat/es/generalitat/estatut/estatut2006/preambul/index.html. 35 Crameri, Goodbye Spain?: The Question of Independence for Catalonia, Kindle loc. 1077-1090. 151 Art ideally requires absolute freedom of imagination, thought, and expression, while governments inevitably try to restrict the exercise of these facilities and their consequences; and regimes like to define the restrains as freedom. Even in democratic states claiming to promote the arts, the link is always fragile and the arts are frequently obstructed. But that inevitable tension should not mean that awareness of the connections among art and politics is also obstructed.36 Whether or not the relationship between art and politics is hidden or simply unclear, it is important to understand that there is a connection between the two. Examining this relationship is a worthwhile exercise in that it can illuminate patterns of thought and emotions that are not always taken into consideration. Although we are saturated in a visual world, pictures and images tend to play a minor role in theories of identity and nationalism. A greater understanding of what Edelman deemed “that inevitable tension” between art and politics will contribute to a more comprehensive perspective of the social history of art and the social history of imagined communities. 5.3 Concluding Remarks Catalonia is a reoccurring subject in Tàpies’s oeuvre. The cover illustration for the Estatut d’Autonomia de Catalunya epitomizes the artist’s quest to balance his unique style of the past with an archetypal Catalan nationalist identity, not unlike Miró before him. Through works like this, Tàpies developed a visualization of Catalonia, one that is starkly different than the noucentista notion of a poised Mediterranean civilization. Less than one hundred years separate Joaquim Sunyer’s Pastoral (1910-1911, figure 54) and Tàpies’s mural for the 1992 Universal Exposition (figure 40). Both images are nationalist in that they demonstrate their maker’s privileging of a Catalan national identity, yet they look nothing alike. Pastoral is an idyllic scene that intends to align the Catalan landscape and its inhabitants with great historic societies. The Expo ’92 artwork, on the other hand, is like an enormous cave painting made with blood. It employs letters, symbols, and fingerprints instead of carefully calculated brushstrokes. On the surface, these paintings have little in common. However, both pictures form part of the constantly transforming Catalan identity. They 36 Edelman, From Art to Politics, 146. 152 Figure 54Joaquim Sunyer, Pastoral, 1910-1911 participate in the reconstruction of that identity. They are part of the visual language of a nation that inevitably changes over time, just as verbal communication changes. Billig did not address pictures in his discussion of how nationalism (similar to racism as Étianne Balibar previously posited) cannot exist without theory. Each of these images fit into his idea that “nationalism involves assumptions about what a nation is....”37 Sunyer’s Catalan nation is sublime and tied to the land; it is imbued with a romantic idea of the pleasures of rural life. Tàpies’s Catalonia is victimized yet victorious in its survival; the shared language is more important than the physical landscape. Nonverbal forms of communication certainly contribute to the “assumptions” of what constitutes any particular nation, both from within and beyond its imaginary boarders. Understanding alternative forms of communication has not been a major focus of academic studies of nationalism and national identities. In the increasingly image-saturated world in which we live, where banal nationalism thrives in its inconspicuousness, it is wise to consider the ideological components of the visual. The analysis of pictures ought not to continue to be 37 Billig, Banal Nationalism, 63. 153 exclusive to a handful of disciplines, as the image has turned into an invasive part of our everyday experience since the invention of the digital photograph and the Internet. “The Visualization of a Catalan Nation” points out a number of public projects that are directly related to politics although the connection is not always visible. The examples discussed in this chapter are not comprehensive; they are meant to demonstrate that there can be much more beyond the surface of any given work of art. Many of Tàpies’s works address national issues, although he also made a number of works related to social issues, such as Rinzen; some include both national and social elements, as seen in his poster for the PSUC, in addition to countless works that are extremely ambiguous to read. A statistical analysis would provide evidence of the exact ratios of his artworks dedicated to each of these three categories, however the criteria would inevitably be subjective. What is certain is that the vast majority of his works show the artistic style that was unique in contemporary art. The subject matter of these images does not always directly reference national or social issues, but the form is a reminder of the sociopolitical conditions under which Tàpies first developed his artistic style in the 1950s and 1960s. There does seem to be a hierarchy of content, in that Tàpies’s national subject matter was more prolific than his social subjects, while allegiance to his style (which is linked to both contemporary art and politics) trumps all. Understanding the formal qualities of painting and sculpture is only part of the process. What happens to art once it leaves its maker’s hands is equally important and requires attention. Much like national flags, which Billig pointed out are mere pieces of colored cloth, art can contribute to the banal yet omnipresent flagging of the nation’s presence in contemporary life and thought. Centuries ago, when the concept of a nation was not a seemingly natural factor in human societies, pledging allegiance to scraps of bright fabric stitched together would have seemed to be a ridiculous act.38 Flags and other visualizations of the nation are products of a particular historical moment and often go unquestioned. However, their broad acceptance and representation of nationalist philosophies is worth further investigation. It was not a coincidence that the Generalitat moved Tàpies’s large mural named after four historic texts written in Catalan to a high-profile space but rejected his model Mitjó. The Catalan government openly embraced Tàpies’s work when it corresponded with its agenda to promote a specific strain of Catalan nationalism. In our conversation concerning the relationship between politicians and art, Toni 38 Billig, Banal Nationalism, 50. 154 Tàpies expressed that politicians tend to use art for their own agenda; he stated, “with some exceptions, generally politicians in this country do not understand very much about contemporary art.”39 In a similar fashion, both public and private institutions are able to employ art in order to fit their various agendas. The following chapter will take an in-depth look at Tàpies’s exhibitions from 2007 to 2014. They will consider how both national and international institutions have marketed the artist’s work during the final years of his life and in the first postmortem retrospectives organized in honor of Antoni Tàpies. 39 Interview with Toni Tàpies, February 4, 2016. 257 List of Abbreviations CDCConvergència Democràtica de Catalunya CiUConvergència i Unió CUPCandidatura d’Unitat Popular ERCEsquerra Republicana de Catalunya ICVIniciativa per Catalunya Verds MACBAMuseu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona MNACMuseu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya PCCPartit Comunista de Catalunya PCEPartido Comunista de España PPPartido Popular PSCPartit dels Socialistes de Catalunya PSOEPartido Socialista Obrero Español PSUCPartit Socialista Unificat de Catalunya Reina SofíaMuseo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía UDCUnió Democràtica de Catalunya 259 Archives Arxiu Fotogràfic de Barcelona, Ajuntament de Barcelona Arxiu Històric de la Ciutat de Barcelona, Ajuntament de Barcelona Arxiu i Biblioteca, Fundació Antoni Tàpies Arxiu i Biblioteca, Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona Biblioteca Nacional de España Biblioteca y Centro de Documentación, Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía Bibliography 116 icones turístiques de Catalunya. Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, 2010. ABC, March 23, 1974. Accessed September 5, 2016, http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/madrid/abc/1974/04/23/001.html. Ache, Josep. “Tàpies dóna a Sabadell un símbol.” Diari de Sabadell, June 17, 1995. Agustí, Anna, Jacques Dupin, and Miquel Tàpies. Tàpies. Obra completa. Volum 4art. 19761981. Barcelona: Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 1995. Agustí, Anna, Nuria Enguita Mayo, and Miquel Tàpies. Tàpies. Obra completa. Volum 8è. 19982004. Barcelona: Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2006. Alberch, Ramon. “Un menú diario en el Archivo Histórico.” El Periódico, June 24, 1992. Alonso, Martín. El Catalanismo, del Éxito al Éxtasis. Barcelona: El Viejo Topo, 2014. Alós, Ernest. “La tierra de los mil ‘Tàpies.’” El Periódico, February 12, 2012. Alemany, Luis. “Tàpies para escépticos.” El Mundo, February 7, 2012. Accessed August 23, 2015. http://www.elmundo.es/elmundo/2012/02/07/cultura/1328613795.html. Álvarez Junco, José. Mater Dolorosa. La idea de España en el siglo XIX. Madrid: Taurus, 2001. Álvarez Junco, José, Justo Beramendi, and Ferrán Requejo. El nombre de la cosa. Debate sobre el término nación y otros conceptos relacionados. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 2005. Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. New York: Verso, 2006. Andrade, Juan. El PCE y el PSOE en (la) transición. La evolución ideológica de la izquerda durante el proceso de cambio poñítico. Madrid: Siglo XXI de España, 2012. 260 Anfosso. “La destrucción del confort como homenaje a Picasso.” Diario de Barcelona, February 9, 1982. Anholt, Simon. Competitive Identity: The New Brand Management for Nations, Cities and Regions. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007. Anguera i Nolla, Pere. Els precedents del catalanisme. Catalanitat i anticentralisme: 1808-1868. Barcelona: Empuries, 2000. Antón, Jacinto. “Antoni Tàpies, un artista deslumbrante.” El País, February 6, 2012. Accessed August 29, 2016, http://cultura.elpais.com/cultura/2012/02/06/actualidad/1328557005_302756.html. “Antoni Tàpies abofeta al realismo: ‘Es pintura facilona para nuevos ricos.’” ABC, June 11, 1993, 12. “Antoni Tàpies galardonado con el Príncipe de Asturias de las Artes por su ‘riesgo creativo y capacidad innovadora.’” ABC (Sevilla), May 19, 1990, 61. Accessed June 13, 2016. http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/sevilla/abc.sevilla/1990/05/19/061 .html. Apostua, Luis. “Calcetin con millones.” Navarra Hoy, February 9, 1992. Archilés, Ferran. “Lenguajes de nación. Las ‘experiencias de nación’ y los procesos de nacionalización: propuestas para un debate.” Ayer 90 (2013). Arco Blanco, Miguel Ángel del. “Un paso más allá de la historia cultural: los cultural studies.” Por una historia global. El debate historiográfico en los últimos tiempos. Granada: Universidad de Granada, 2007. Armstrong, John A. Nations before Nationalism. Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 1982. Aronczyk, Melissa. Branding the Nation: The Global Business of National Identity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. “Artur Mas: ‘Tàpies ha sido el artista más radicalmente catalán en su pensamiento, su expresión y sus referentes.’” El Periódico, February 6, 2012. Accessed January 10, 2016. http://www.elperiodico.com/es/noticias/ocio-y-cultura/artur-mas-sido-artista-masradicalmente-catalan-pensamiento-expresion-sus-referentes-1393521. Àtremis. “Visca el mitjó.” Diari de Barcelona, February 11, 1992. 261 “El Ayuntamiento de Barcelona concede a Antoni Tàpies la medalla de oro de la cuidad.” El País, February 29, 1992. Balcells, Albert. Catalan Nationalism. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1996. Balfour, Sebastian. Dictatorship, Workers, and the City: Labour in Greater Barcelona since 1939. Oxford: Claredon Press, 1989. Balfour, Sebastian and Alejandro Quiroga. The Reinvention of Spain. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Balibar, Etienne and Immanuel Wallerstein. Race, Nation, Class: Ambiguous Identities. New York: Verso, 1991. “Barral dice que la poémica del calcetín beneficia al MNAC.” La Vanguardia, September 10, 1992. Barral i Altet, Xavier. “Coherència tapiana.” Avui, January 7, 1997. Barrio, Astrid and Juan Rodríguez Teruel. “¿Por qué se han radicalizado los partidos políticos en Cataluña? El sistema de partidos y el auge del soberanismo (1999-2012).” Pôle Sud 38 (2014). Beramendi, Justo. “Cataluña y el derecho a decidir.” Ayer 99 (2015): 276-280. Beramendi, Justo G., Ramón Maiz, and Xosé Manoel Núñez Seixas, eds. Nationalism in Europe: Past and Present. Santiago de Compostela: Xunta de Galicia, Universidade de Santiago, 1994. Berezen, Mabel. “Politics and Culture: A les Fissured Terrain.” Annual Review of Sociology 23 (1997): 361-383. Berger, Stefan, Linas Eriksonas and Andrew Mycock, eds. Narrating the Nation: Representations in History, Media and the Arts. New York: Berghahn Books, 2008. Berry, Nicole. “Antoni Tàpies at Dia:Beacon.” AccessibleArt.com, June 24, 2009. Bhabha, Homi K. Nation and Narration. New York: Routledge, 1990. “Bilbao muestra el Tàpies más comprometido políticamente con el catalanismo.” eldiario.es, April 9, 2014. Accessed January 9, 2015. http://www.eldiario.es/cultura/Bilbao-Tapiescomprometido-politicamente-calatanismo_0_247775813.html. Billig, Michael. Banal Nationalism. London: Sage, 1995. Boletín Oficial del Estado, December 10, 2013. Accessed June 15, 2016, https://www.boe.es/boe/dias/2013/12/10/pdfs/BOE-A-2013-12886.pdf. 262 Bonet, Blai. Tàpies. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1964. The Book of Deeds of James I of Aragon. A translation of the medieval Catalan Llibre dels fets. Trans. Damian Smith and Helen Buffery. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003. Bordes, Jordi. “Sabadell, tercera cuitat d’Europa que té una escultura de Tàpies.” El 9 Nou, June 17, 1995. -- “Tàpies instal·la a Sabadell la seva primera obra fora de Barcelona.” El 9 Nou, June 13, 1995. Borja-Villel, Manuel José. “Antoni Tàpies: The ‘Matter Paintings.’” PhD diss., City University of New York, 1989. --Fundació Antoni Tàpies. Barcelona: Edicions de l’Eixample, 1990. El Born Centre Cultural. Accessed January 26, 2016. http://elborncentrecultural.barcelona.cat/elcentre/. El Born Centre de Cultura i Memòria. Accessed January 25, 2017. http://elbornculturaimemoria.barcelona.cat/en/the-center/ Borrás, Maria Lluïsa. “Antoni Tàpies o una nueva cultura.” Destino (June 12, 1971): 60-61. Boswell, David and Jessica Evans, eds. Representing the Nation: A Reader. Histories, heritage and museums. London: Routledge, 1999. Brass, Paul, (ed.). Ethnic Groups and the State. London: Croom Helm, 1985. --Ethnicity and Nationalism. Theory and Comparison. New Delhi: Sage, 1991. Breuilly, John. Nationalism and the State. Second edition. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1993. Brubaker, Rogers. Nationalism reframed. Nationhood and the national question in the New Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Brunet i Cid, Ferran. “The economic impact of the Barcelona Olympics Games, 1986-2004.” Centre d’Estudis Olímpics, 2002. Accessed September 1, 2015. http://olympicstudies.uab.es/pdf/wp084_eng.pdf. Cabañas Bravo, José Miguel. “La primera Bienal Hispanoamericana de Arte: arte, política y polemica en un certamen internacional de los años cincuenta.” PhD diss., Universidad Complutense de Madrid, 1991. Cacho Viu, Vicente. El nacionalismo catalán como factor de modernización. Barcelona: Quaderns Crema, S.A., 1998. 263 --(ed.). Els modernistes i el nacionalisme cultural (1881-1906). Barcelona: La Magrana, 1984. Calleja, J. M. Poesía visual catalana. Santander: Aula de Letras de la Universidad de Cantabria, 2010. Cañizares, María Jesús. “Guerra en el ayuntamiento por la nueva fachada del Liceu.” Crónica, March 31, 2016. Accessed July 15, 2016. http://www.cronicaglobal.com/es/notices/2016/03/guerra-en-el-ayuntamiento-por-lanueva-fachada-del-liceu-35846.php. Casanellas, Pau. Morir matando: El franquismo ante la práctica armada, 1968-1977. Madrid: Catarata, 2014. Castello, Enric, (ed.). La Mediatizatión del conflict politico: Discursos y narrativas en el contexto español. Barcelona: Laertes, 2012. Castells, Luis, (ed.). Del territorio a la nación. Identidades territoriales y construcción nacional. Madrid: Biblioteca Nueva, 2006. Catoir, Barbara. Conversations with Antoni Tàpies. Munich: Prestel-Verlag, 1991. Ceus, Barbara. “Tàpies, más allá de la pintura.” El País, May 18, 2009. Chipp, Herschel B. Theories of Modern Art. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996. Cien años de cultura catalane (1880-1980). Dirección General del Patrimonio Artístico, Madrid: Ministerio de Cultura, 1980. Cirici, Alexandre. “Antoni Tàpies o l’art del món no dit.” Tàpies exhibition catalogue. Barcelona: Galeria Maeght, 1981. --Tàpies: 1954-1964. Barcelona: Gustavo Gili, 1964 --Tàpies: Testimoni del silenci. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1970. Cirlot, Juan-Eduardo. Tàpies. Barcelona: Omega, 2000. Combalía, Victòria. Tàpies. Barcelona: Poligrafa, 1986. --Tàpies. Los genios de la pintura española. Madrid: Sarpe, 1988. --“Un monumento polémico.” El País, March 21, 1983. Combalía, Victoria and Amador Vega, eds. Mística y creación en el siglo XX. Barcelona: Herder, 2006. Conversi, Daniele. “Art, Nationalism and War: Political Futurism in Italy (1909-1944).” Sociology Compass 3/1 (2009): 92-117 264 -- The Basques, the Catalans and Spain: Alternative Routes to Nationalist Mobilisation. Reno & Las Vegas: University of Nevada Press, 1997. -- “The Smooth Transition: Spain’s 1978 Constitution and the Nationalities Question.” National Identities V.4 No. 3 (2002): 223-244. Corredor-Matheos, José. Antoni Tàpies: materia, signo, espíritu. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1992. Crameri, Kathryn. “Banal Catalanism?” National Identities 2 (2000): 145-157. -- Goodbye Spain?: The Question of Independence for Catalonia. East Sussex, England: Sussex Academic Press, 2014. Culla i Clará, Joan B. El catalanisme d’esquerra (1928-1936). Barcelona: Curial, 1977. Dia Art Foundation. “Antoni Tàpies: The Resources of Rhetoric.” Accessed November 4, 2015. http://www.diaart.org/exhibitions/introduction/9. Dies de transició Salvador Puig Antich: dotze hores de vida: l’execució de Puig Antich. Televisió de Catalunya and Vernal Media, 2006. Documentary film. Dowling, Andrew. Catalonia since the Spanish Civil War: reconstructing the nation. Portland, OR: Sussex Academic Press, 2013. Duarte, Ángel. “El catalán en su paisaje. Algunas notas sobre los usos del imaginario del paisaje catalán, y catalanista, en el primer franquismo.” Historia y Política 14 (2005): 165-190. Dupin, Jacques. Matiere d’infini. Tours: Farrago, 2005. -- “Devant Tàpies”. Derrière le Miroir 168 (November 1967). “Duran: ‘Que hi hagi mitjó no és decisiu pel museu.’” Diari de Barcelona. April 23, 1992. Edelman, Murray. From Art to Politics: How Artistic Creations Shape Political Conceptions. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1995. Edensor, Tim. National Identity, Popular Culture and Everyday Life. Oxford: Berg, 2002. Enguita Mayo, Nuria. Los Carteles de Tàpies y la Esfera Publica. Barcelona: Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2007. Errázuriz, Javiera. “El movimiento estudiantil madrileño durante el curso 1975-1976: auge y agotamiento de un actor fundamental en lucha contra el franquismo.” Ayer 99 (2015): 199-224. Escobar, Jesús. La Plaza Mayor y los Orígenes del Madrid Barroco. San Senastián: Nerea, 2007. Escribano, Francesc. Compte enrere: la história de Salvador Puig Antich. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 2001. 265 Esteban de Vega, Mariano and Dolores de la Calle Velasco, eds. Procesos de nacionalización en la España contemporánea. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca, 2010. Fernández, David. “Galán gana 7,4 millones entre sueldo y acciones al frente de Iberdrola en 2013.” El País, February 21, 2014. Accessed January 27, 2016. http://economia.elpais.com/economia/2014/02/21/actualidad/1392991404_982190.html. Fernández, Josep-Anton. “Becoming Normal: cultural production and cultural policy in Catalonia.” Spanish Cultural Studies. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995: 342-346. Figuerola-Ferretti, Luis. “El arte en Madrid: La pintura actual de Tàpies.” Goya 184 (JanuaryFebruary 1985). Fishman, George. “Antoni Tàpies elevates consciousness and conscience in PAMM exhibit.” Miami Herald, March 13, 2015. Accessed March 23, 2015. http://www.miamiherald.com/entertainment/visual-arts/article14061947.html. “Fons municipal d’art contemporani.” Accessed August 27, 2015. http://www.santboi.cat/Publi089.nsf/CC37DDC97C4288B6C1257A85002BD319/$FILE/ INVENTARI%20FONS%20MUNICIPAL%20D'ART%20CONTEMPORANI.pdf Fontova, Rosario. “La sala oval del Palau Nacional se abrirá en el 92.” El Periódico. December 17, 1991. Foster, Hal, Rosalind Krauss, Yve-Alain Bois, Benjamin H.D. Buchloh. Arte desde 1900: modernidad antimodernidad posmodernidad. Madrid: Ediciones Akal, 2006. Foucalt, Michel. “Truth and Power.” The Foucault Reader. New York: Pantheon, 1984. Fradera, Josep María. Cultura nacional en una sociedad dividida. Cataluña 1838-1868. Madrid: Marcial Pons, 2003. Fradera, Josep María and Enric Ucelay da Cal, eds. Noticia nova de Catalunya. Barcelona: Centre de Cultura Contemporánia, 2005. Franzke, Andreas. Tàpies. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1992. Freeman, Judi. Picasso and the Weeping Women. Los Angeles: Los Angeles County Museum of Art, 1994. Fundació Antoni Tàpies. Accessed November 14, 2015. http://www.fundaciotapies.org/site/spip.php?rubrique65. Fundació Joan Miró. “Joan Brossa o la revolta poètica.” Accessed January 25, 2017, http://www.fmirobcn.org/exposicions/122/joan-brossa-o-la-revolta-poetica. 266 -- “Manifest groc. Dalí, Gasch, Montanyà i l’antiart.” Accessed January 25, 2017, http://www.fmirobcn.org/exposicions/96/manifest-groc-dali-gasch-montanya-i-lantiart. “La Fundación Antoni Tàpies abre sus puertas.” ABC, June 7, 1990, 146. Accessed June 13, 2016. http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/madrid/abc/1990/06/07/146.html. “La Fundació Tàpies, en la corda fluixa.” Ara. June 6, 2015. Gabriel, Pere. El catalanisme i la cultura federal. Història i política del republicanisme popular Catalunya el segle XIX. Reus: Fundació Josep Recasens, 2007. Gaecía-Sedas, Pilar. Joaquím Torres-García i Rafael Barradas: un diáleg escrit, 1918-1928. Barcelona: Publicacions de l’Abadia de Montserrat, 1994. Galeria Joan Prats. Antoni Tàpies: 40 anys del col·laboració. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 2004. Galfetti, Mariuccia. Tàpies: obra gráfica, 1937-1978. Barcelona: Gustavo Gili, 1980. Gallego, Ferran. El mito de la transición: la crisis del franquismo y los orígenes de la democracia (1973-1977). Barcelona: Crítica, 2008. García Rovira, Ana María, eds. España, ¿nación de naciones?. Madrid: Marcial Pons, 2002. Garut, José Maria. Dos siglos de pintura catalane: XIX y XX. Madrid: Ibérico Europa de Ediciones, D.L., 1974. Gasch, Sebastian. Tàpies. Madrid: Dirección General de Bellas Artes, 1971. Gellner, Ernest. Nationalism. New York: New York University Press, 1997. --Nations and Nationalism. Oxford: Blackwell, 2006. Generalitat de Catalunya. 9N 2014. Accessed January 25, 2016. http://www.participa2014.cat/resultats/dades/ca/escr-tot.html. -- Baròmetre d’Opinió Política (BOP). 3ª onada 2012REO 705, Centre d’Estudis d’Opinió. Accessed March 7, 2016. http://ceo.gencat.cat/ceop/AppJava/pages/estudis/categories/fitxaEstudi.html?colId=3;43 08&lastTitle=Bar%F2metre+d%27Opini%F3+Pol%EDtica%3BBar%F2metre+d%27Opi ni%F3+Pol%EDtica+%28BOP%29.+3a+onada+2012. -- Baròmetre d’Opinió Política (BOP). 3ª onada 2016REO 835, Centre d’Estudis d’Opinió. Accessed January 25, 2017. http://ceo.gencat.cat/ceop/AppJava/pages/home/fitxaEstudi.html?colId=6008&lastTitle= Bar%F2metre+d%27Opini%F3+Pol%EDtica.+3a+onada+2016 273 Miley, Thomas Jeffrey. “Against the Thesis of the ‘Civic Nation’: The Case of Catalonia in Contemporary Spain.” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 13: 1 (2007): 1-37. Minder, Rafael. “Catalonia Overwhelmingly Votes for Independence From Spain in Straw Poll.” The New York Times, November 9, 2014. Accessed January 25, 2016. http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/10/world/europe/catalans-vote-in-straw-poll-onindependence-from-spain.html. Minguet Batllori, Joan M. Contra la Cooltura; Art i política a Catalunya. Barcelona: Edicions Els Llums, 2015. Miquel Sobrer, Josep. Catalonia: a Self-Portrait. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1992. “El MNAC no decidirá sobre el ‘calcetín de Tàpies hasta después de las elecciones.” El País, February 25, 1992. “MNAC, Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya.” Mission statement, renovation plans, and year 2000 goals. Metropolitan Museum of Art, Thomas J. Watson Library. Copy from the University of Connecticut library (Storrs campus). Moix, Llàtzer. “Tàpies reinvindica el arte como vehículo de reflexión en su monumental obra para la UPF.” La Vanguardia, December 6, 1996. Accessed June 9, 2016, http://hemeroteca.lavanguardia.com/preview/1996/07/28/pagina41/33957519/pdf.html?search=Sala%20de%20Reflexi%C3%B3n%20T%C3%A0pies. Molina Aparicio, Fernando. Mario Onaindia (1948-2003): Biografía patria. Madrid: Biblioteca Nueva, 2012. Molina, Fernando and José Antonio Pérez. El peso de la identidad: mitos y ritos de la historia vasca. Madrid: Marcial Pons, 2015. Molinero, Carme, (coord.). La Transición treinta años después. Barcelona: Península, 2006. Molinero, Carme and Pere Ysàs. Els anys del PSUC: el partit de l’antifranquisme (1956-1981). Barcelona: L’Avenç, 2010. -- La cuestión catalana: Cataluña en la transición española. Barcelona: Crítica, 2014. Montaner, Josep Maria. “El Pavelló de Catalunya a l’Expo de Sevilla.” Textos Originals en Catalá. Accessed December 8, 2014. http://www.raco.cat/index.php/Catalonia/article/viewFile/107212/166299. Montgomery, Ken. “Banal Race-thinking: Ties of blood, Canadian history textbooks and ethnic nationalism.” Paedagogica Historica 41; 3 (2005): 313-336. 274 MooreGilbert, Bart. Postcolonial Theory: Contexts, Practices, Politics. New York: Verso, 1997. Moreno Luzón, Javier, (ed.). Construir España. Nacionalismo español y procesos de nacionalización. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Políticos y Constitucionales, 2007. Mori, Norihide. “The Image and the Real: a Consideration of Sartre’s Early Views on Art.” Aesthetics 16 (2012): 11-24. Moure, Gloria. Tàpies. Objetos del tiempo. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1994. “Muere en Barcelona el artista Antoni Tàpies.” El Periódico, February 6, 2012. Accessed August 29, 2016, http://www.elperiodico.com/es/noticias/ocio-y-cultura/muere-genio-delinformalismo-antoni-tapies-1393283. Muñoz Mendoza, Jordi. La construcción política de la identidad española: ¿del nacionalcatolicismo al patriotism democrático? Madrid: Centro de Investigaciones Sociologicas, 2012. Muriel Ladrón de Guevara, Xavier Cóller, and Daniel Romaní. “The image of Barcelona ’92 in the International Press.” Barcelona: Centre d’Estudis Olimpics UAB, 1995. Accessed December 8, 2014. http://olympicstudies.uab.es/pdf/wp105_eng.pdf. Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía. “Dalí. All of the poetic suggestions and all of the plastic possibilities.” Accessed November 21, 2015. http://www.museoreinasofia.es/en/exhibitions/dali-all-poetic-suggestions-and-all-plasticpossibilities. Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona Collection. Accessed September 13, 2015. http://www.macba.cat/en/rinzen-1461. Museu d’Historia de Catalunya. Accessed January 26, 2016. http://www.en.mhcat.cat/. The Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya. Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, 2009. Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya. Official institutional objectives. Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, 2005. -- “The Museum.” Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.museunacional.cat/en/museum. -- “Tàpies. From Within.” Accessed July 21, 2014. http://museunacional.cat/en/tapieswithin-3. Nairn, Tom. The Break up of Britain: Crisis and Neo-Nationalism. London: New Left Books, 1977. 275 Navarro Arisa, Juan José. “El Ayuntamiento de Barcelona cede a Tàpies un edificio que albergará la fundación del artista.” El País, March 14, 1987. Accessed August 28, 2016, http://elpais.com/diario/1987/03/14/cultura/542674807_850215.html. Nistal González, Fernando. El papel del Partido Comunista en la Transición. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Políticos y Constitucionales, 2015. Norotzky, Viviana. “Selling the Nation: Identity and Design in 1980s Catalonia.” Design Issues 25; 3 (Summer 2009): 62-75. Núñez Seixas, Xosé Manoel. “La región y lo local en el primer franquismo.” Imaginarios y representaciones de España durante el franquismo. Madrid: Velázquez, 2014: 127-154. “A Obiols no le gusta el calectín.” Segre, February 8, 1992. Official Statistics Website of Catalonia. “Generalitat public sector. Budget. 2010-2015.” Accessed January 27, 2016. http://www.idescat.cat/pub/?id=aec&n=683&lang=en. Olivar, Marcial. The Art Museum of Catalonia, Barcelona. James Brockway, trans. New York: Meredith Press, 1968. Onieva, Antonio J. A New Complete Guide to the Prado Gallery. Madrid: Editorial Mayfe, S.A., 1966. Ors i Rovira, Eugeni d’ (Xenius). La Veu de Catalunya. Barcelona: 1899-1937, Biblioteca de Catalunya. Accessed March 28, 2013. http://www.bnc.cat/esl. Osma, Guillermo de. Ismos: Arte de Vanguardia (1910-1936) en España. Madrid: Galería Guillermo de Osma, 1993. Oxford Dictionaries. Accessed September 21, 2015. http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/visualize. Ozkirimli, Umut. Contemporary Debates On Nationalism: A Critical Engagement. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Palacios, David. “En el interior de la capilla laica de Tàpies.” La Vanguardia, June 5, 2016. Accessed June 9, 2016, http://www.lavanguardia.com/local/barcelona/20160602/402225411601/capilla-laicatapies-upf-reflexion.html.Panyella, Jordi. Salvador Puig Antich, caso abierto. Barcelona: Lectio, 2015. 276 Palau, Maria. “El gran artista i pensador.” El Punt Avui, February 7, 2012. Accessed August 29, 2016, http://www.elpuntavui.cat/cultura/article/19-cultura/504330-el-gran-artista-ipensador.html. Parcerisas, Pilar. “Una cambra per al silenci.” Avui, February 6, 1997. “El parlamento de Cataluña aprueba el nuevo Estatuto.” El País, September 30, 2005. Accessed August 29, 2016, http://elpais.com/elpais/2005/09/30/actualidad/1128068217_850215.html. Pasamar, Gonzalo. “¿Cómo nos han contado la Transición? Política, memoria e historiografía (1978-1996).” Ayer 99 (2015): 225-249. Penrose, Roland. Tàpies. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1977. Permanyer, Lluís. Tàpies i les civilización orientals. Barcelona: EDHASA, 1983. -- Tàpies y la nueva cultura. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1986. Petrescu, Diona, (ed.). Altering Practices: Feminist Politics and Poetics of Space. London: Routledge, 2007. Picazo, Glòria. “Tàpies: vestigis d’ alló que existí.” Nous Horitzons 83 (MarchMay 1983): 3031. “El PP s’oposa a la instal·lació del mitjó de Tàpies al Palau Nacional.” Avui, January 28, 1992. Prado, Benjamín. “Dalí el fascista.” El País, July 8, 2004. Accessed November 21, 2015. http://elpais.com/diario/2004/07/08/madrid/1089285859_850215.html. Prat de la Riba, Enric (1906). La Nacionalidad catalana, Barcelona: Aymá, 1982. Preziosi, D. and C. Farago, (eds.). Grasping the World: The idea of the museum. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004. “Proyectos y realización del monument a Picasso, de Tàpies.” Belles Arts, Bulletí de la Facultat de Belles Arts de la Universitat de Barcelona (AprilMay 1983). Pujol, Jordi. “Discurso en la sede la UNESCO en París, con motivo de la Exposición Catalunya Avui.” March 23, 1981. -- Catalunya-Espanya. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1996. Quaggio, Giulia. La cultura en transición: reconciliación y política cultural en España, 19761986. Madrid: Alianza, 2014. Quiroga Fernández de Soto, Alejandro. Goles y banderas. Fútbol e identidades nacionales en España. Madrid: Marcial Pons Historia, 2014. 277 -- Haciendo españoles. La nacionalización de las masas en la Dictadura de Primo de Rivera (1923-1930). Madrid: Centro de Estudios Políticos y Constitucionales, 2008. --“Michael Billig en España. Sobre la recepción de Banal Nationalism.” Pensar con la Historia desde el siglo XXI. Madrid: Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 2015: 41854102. -- “The Three Spheres. A theoretical model of mass nationalization: the case of Spain.” Nations and Nationalism 20; 4 (2014): 683-700. Raillard, Georges. La syllabe noire de Tàpies. Marsella: André Dimanche Éditeur, 1994. -- Tàpies. Paris: Maeght Éditeur, 1976. Ranciére, Jacques. The Politics of Aesthetics: The Distribution of the Sensible. London: Continuum, 2004. Rassel, Laurence. Tàpies From Within 1945-2011. Barcelona: Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2013. En record d’Antoni Tàpies. Ateneu Barcelonès, March 3, 2012. “Repsol dona a la Fundació Museo d’Art Contemporani la obra Rinzen, de Antoni Tàpies.” Repsol press release, December 17, 1998. Accessed September 14, 2015. http://www.repsol.com/es_es/corporacion/prensa/notas-de-prensa/ultimasnotas/donacion_de_la_obra_rinzen_a_la_fundacio.aspx. “Un restaurante crea un a encuesta-sortea sobre el ‘calcetín’ de Antoni Tàpies.” El País, June 18, 1992. Richards, Michael. After the Civil War: Making Memory and Re-making Spain since 1936. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Riquer, Borja de. “La Catalunya autonómica 1975-2003” Vol. IX and X, La Història de Catalunya, Pierre Vilar, (ed.), edition 62, 2003. -- (dir.). Història, política, societat i cultura dels Països Catalans. Barcelona: Enciclopèdia Catalana, 1996-1999. -- Identitats contemporànies: Catalunya i Espanya. Vic: Eumo, 2000. -- Lliga Regionalista (1898-1904). Barcelona: Ed. 62, 1977. -- “Social and Economic Change in a Climate of Political Immobilism.” Spanish Cultural Studies. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995: 259-270. Riquer, Borja de, Jesus M. Rhodes, and Josep Termes. “El nacionalismo catalan.” Cuadernos de Historia 16; 89. Madrid: Groupo 16, D.L., 1985. 278 Rispa, Raul, Cesar Alonso de los Rios, and Maria Jose Aguaza, eds. Expo’92 Sevilla: Architecture and Design. New York: Abbeville Press, 1993. Rius Ulldemolins, Joaquim. “Política cultural e hibridación de las instituciones culturales. El caso de Barcelona.” Revista Española de Ciencia Política 29 (July 2012): 85-105. Robinson, William H., Jordi Falgás, and Carmen Belen Lord, eds. Barcelona and Modernity: Picasso, Gaudí, Miró, Dalí. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006. Roe, Jeremy. Tàpies. New York: Parkstone Press Ltd., 2006. Rohrer, Judith. “A Theme for Reflection: The Recent Work of Antoni Tàpies”. Arts Magazine (December 1975). Roma, Valentín. Tresors del Palau de la Generalitat de Catalunya - 2. Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, 2001. Rosenberg, Harold. “Rosenberg on Violence in Art and Other Matters.” Artscanada 26 (Febuary 1969): 32. Rothko Chapel. Accessed September 18, 2015. http://rothkochapel.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=3&Itemid=6. Rovira i Virgili, Antoni. Nacionalisme i federalisme [1912-1932]. Barcelona, 1982. Safran, William and Ramón Maiz, eds. Identity and Territorial Autonomy in Plural Societies. London and Portland: Frank Cass, 2000. “Sala de Reflexión en la Universidad Pompeu Fabra. Barcelona.” On 180 (1997): 90-95. Sala, Maria. “El calcetín de Tàpies.” El Periódico, February 18, 1992. Salat, Jordi. Les Quatre Columnes Catalanes. Barcelona: Llibres de l’Índex, 2005. Salvat Papasseit, Joan, (ed.). Arc-Voltaic. Arxiu de Revistes Catalanes Antigues, February 1918. Accessed March 10, 2013. http://www.bnc.cat/digital/arca/index.html. Santos Torroella, R. “Primera Piedra.” La Vanguardia, April 5, 1983. Sartorius, Nicolás and Alberto Sabio Alcutén. El final de la dictadura: la conquista de la democracia en España: noviembre de 1975junio de 1977. Madrid: Temas de Hoy, 2007. Sartre, Jean-Paul. “The Unprivileged Painter: Lapoujade.” Essays in Aesthetics 60-77. New York: Citadel Press, 1963. Saz Campos, Ismael. España contra España. Los nacionalismos franquistas. Madrid: Marcial Pons, 2003. 279 Schumacher, Edward. “Sculptures Are Changing the Look of Barcelona.” The New York Times, September 4, 1990. Accessed August 27, 2016, http://www.nytimes.com/1990/09/04/arts/sculptures-are-changing-the-look-ofbarcelona.html. Scott, James C. Domination and the Arts of Resistance. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990. Serra, Catalina. “El ‘calcetín’ de Tàpies existe.” El País, February 17, 2010. Accessed November 14, 2015. http://elpais.com/diario/2010/02/17/catalunya/1266372439_850215.html. -- “El Pintor Antoni Tàpies gana el Premio Príncipe de Asturias de las Artes.” El País, May 13, 1990. Accessed August 31, 2015. http://elpais.com/diario/1990/05/19/cultura/643068006_850215.html. -- “El MACBA instala la pieza que Tàpies presentó en la Bienal de Venecia.” El País, December 18, 1998. Accessed September 14, 2015. http://elpais.com/diario/1998/12/18/cultura/913935604_850215.html. -- “Tàpies, immortal.” Ara, February 7, 2012. Accessed August 29, 2016, http://www.ara.cat/cultura/Tapies-immortal_0_641935882.html. -- “TVECataluña y la BBC colaboran en un documental sobre Tàpies.” El País, June 28, 1990. Accessed June 19, 2016, http://elpais.com/diario/1990/06/28/radiotv/646524002_850215.html. Serrano, Ivan, “Just a Matter of Identity? Support for Independence in Catalonia.” Regional & Federal Studies 23; 5 (2013): 523-545. Serrano, M. López. Palacio Real de Madrid. Madrid: Editorial Patrimonio Nacional, 1967. Shapiro, Ian. Politics Against Domination. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University, 2016. Smith, Anthony D. Chosen Peoples. Sacred Sources of National Identity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. --“Culture, Community and Territory: The Politics of Ethnicity and Nationalism.” International Affairs 72; 3 (July 1996): 445-458. -- The Ethnic Origins of Nations. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1986. -- Nacionalismo y modernidad. Un estudio crítico de las teorías recientes sobre nacionales y nacionalismo. Madrid: Itsmo, 2000. -- National Identity. London: Penguin, 1991. 280 -- Las teorías del nacionalismo. Barcelona: Península, 1976. Sole i Sabaté, J.M. La represión franquista en Cataluña 1938-1953. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1985. Sontag, Susan. Regarding the Pain of others. New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2003. Sòria, Josep Maria. “Naixement i mort de l’Assemblea de Catalunya.” La Vanguardia, November 6, 2011. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Accessed December 7, 2015. http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nationalism/. Stapell, Hamilton. Remaking Madrid: Culture, Politics, and Identity after Franco. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010. Tapié, Michel. Antoni Tàpies. Milan: Fratelli Fabbri, 1969. -- Avec Antoni Tàpies. Paris: Derrière le Miroir, 1967. Tàpies. Gregory Rood, (dir.). BBC and TVE Catalunya, 1990. “Tàpies: 75 años de creación.” ABC (Sevilla), December 20, 1998, 83. Accessed June 13, 2016. http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/sevilla/abc.sevilla/1998/12/20/083 .html. “Tàpies, adiós al gran renovador del arte español.” ABC (Sevilla), February 7, 2012, 1. “Tàpies, descalzo.” ABC de las artes 90 (December 1993). Accessed September 9, 2015. http://hemeroteca.abc.es/nav/Navigate.exe/hemeroteca/m. Tàpies: Desde el Interior 1945-2011. Madrid: La Fabrica, 2013. Tàpies, els anys 80. Barcelona: Ajuntament de Barcelona, 1988. Tàpies: Extensions de la Realidad. Milan: Gruppo Edit. Fabbri, 1990. Tàpies: Objectos del tiempo. Barcelona: Polígrafa, 1994. Tàpies. Retrospectiva. Exposición enmarcada en el programa “Arte español para el exterior.” Madrid: Dirección General de Relaciones Culturales y Cientificas, 2004. Tàpies, Antoni. Antoni Tàpies (Obra 1956-1976). Barcelona: Fundació Joan Miró, 1976. -- L’art contra l’estètica. Barcelona: Ariel, 1970. -- L’art i els seus llocs. Madrid: Editorial Siruela, 1999. -- Art i espiritualitat. Barcelona: Universidad de Barcelona, 1988. -- En blanco y negro. Barcelona: Galaxia Gutenberg, 2008. 281 -- The Complete Works. Volume 1. 1943-1960. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 1988. -- The Complete Works. Volume 2. 1961-1968. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 1990. -- The Complete Works. Volume 3. 1969-1975. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 1992. -- The Complete Works. Volume 4. 1976-1981. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 1996. -- The Complete Works. Volume 5. 1982-1985. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 1998. -- The Complete Works. Volume 6. 1986-1990. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2002. -- The Complete Works. Volume 7. 1991-1997. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2003. -- The Complete Works. Volume 8. 1998-2005. Barcelona: Ediciones Polígrafa and Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2005. -- Complete Writings Volume I. A Personal Memoir: Fragments for an Autobiography. Josep Miquel Sobrer, trans. Barcelona: Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2009. -- Complete Writings Volume II. Collected Essays. Josep Miquel Sobrer, trans. Barcelona: Fundació Antoni Tàpies, 2009. -- Pequeña historia de Antoni Tàpies. Barcelona: Mediterrània, 2013. -- La práctica de l’art. Barcelona: Ariel, 1970. -- La realidad como arte: por un arte moderno y progresista. Murcia: Comisión de Cultura del Colegio Oficial de Aparejedores y Arquitectos Técnicos, 1989. -- Tàpies In Perspective. Barcelona: Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona and Actar, 2004. -- El tatuaje y el cuerpo: Antoni Tàpies conversaciones con Manuel Borja-Villel. Barcelona: Rosa Cúbica, 2005. Tate. “Matter Painting.” Accessed May 17, 2015. http://www.tate.org.uk/learn/onlineresources/glossary/m/matter-painting. Te de Tàpies. Carolina Tubau, (dir.). Televisió de Catalunya, 2009. 282 Teixidor, Joan. Antoni Tàpies. Fustes, papers, cartons i collages. Barcelona: Sala Gaspar, 1964. Termes, Josep and Jordi Casassas. El Futur del Catalanisme. Barcelona: Ediciones Proa S.A., 1997. Thisse, Anne-Marie. La creación de las identidades nacionales. Europa: siglos XVIII-XX. Vigo: Ézaro, 2010. “El tripartito y CiU dan luz verde al Estatut tras un acuerdo sobre financiación y enseñanza pública.” El País, September 29, 2005. Accessed August 29, 2016, http://elpais.com/elpais/2005/09/29/actualidad/1127981820_850215.html. Universitat Pompeu Fabra. “A Brief History of a Young University.” Accessed December 8, 2015. https://www.upf.edu/universitat/en/presentacio/historia.html. Valaskivi, Katja. Cool Nations: Media and the Social Imaginary of the Branded Country. London and New York: Routelage, 2016. Vázquez Montalbán, Manuel. Sabotaje olímpico. Barcelona: Planeta, 1993. “Vicens: Guitart no puede vetar el calcetín.” La Vanguardia, February 7, 1992. Vidal Castaño, José Antonio. La memoria reprimida: Historias orales del maquis. Valencia: Universidad de Valencia, 2004. Vila-San-Juan, Sergio. “Antoni Tàpies recibe el premio Príncipe de Asturias de las Artes.” La Vanguardia, May 19, 1990. Accessed August 28, 2016, http://hemeroteca.lavanguardia.com/preview/1990/05/19/pagina37/33022907/pdf.html?search=Premio%20Pr%C3%ADncipe%20de%20Asturias%20Ant oni%20T%C3%A0pies. Villabona, Rafael. “Solé Tura: ‘El “calcetín de Tàpies” no me entusiasma demasiado.’” El Observador, February 5, 1992. Weber, Eugen. Peasants into Frenchmen. The Modernization of Rural France 1870-1914. London: Chatto & Windus, 1977. Weibel, Peter, Andrea Buddensieg, and Rasheed Araeen. Contemporary Art and the Museum: A Global Perspective. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2007. Williams, James H. (ed.). (Re)Constructing Memory: School Textbooks and the Imagination of the Nation. Boston: Sense, 2014. Williams, Robert. Art Theory: An Historical Introduction. Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009.