Jimena Mendoza at SVIT

Artist: Jimena Mendoza

Exhibition title: Forgotten Fruits

Venue: SVIT, Prague, The Czech Republic

Date: April 22 – May 27, 2017

Photography: Tomas Soucek, all images copyright and courtesy of the artist and SVIT, Prague

“Tout que j’aime être en train de disparaitre” C.L-S

I am sitting on a blue bench; lot of Ukrainians around me, Asia is present too.  Shared time while the numbers jump from 73 to 243.  And I wonder how to measure the space? 10 Vojtas, 8 Jimenas and 3 lying Andrews.  This guess helps me to trace a surface, a human dimensions about the space.

LUMP

Several times in these years I returned to Haje, I don’t have anyone to visit there, this is a zone in which I like to be, walk, and sit. There, there is a double arena like architectural twins; it is a generous repercussion slightly out of phase by height.  Each of these arenas contains a concrete monolith in a diagonal position on their scenery. Four panal houses surround this square; I imagine the perfect view that they should have over the space.

Miniaturize is to make portable- is to conceal.

And like Sasa Dvánov I dream to go out and catch some pale sunrays and refresh the dumb friendship of the sun and the stimulus that its light supplies to the earth.

Weeds and dust, peaceful and sad.

She crossed the street and walked straight two blocks then she turned to the left and continued for two long blocks, she crossed diagonal and to the right one more block by the street, then finally turn to the left again and continue until almost the end of the street, she crossed to the front sidewalk and opened the bench with a karate gesture through the bars, house number 74.

When you have a map, you have the chance to see the whole territory as no human is able to see, pink and yellow continents divided by blue light oceans. There is something inexplicable, irreplaceable in the experience to move along and see through the windows, to hear the dog’s bark, contemplate the overgrown grass in the yard, and maybe find the coolest car parked.

Useless

I like the parks because they remain a non-efficient use of the space, far from financial matters in the city. They are wide, open, empty and keep the promise to recover a sense of community; they invite to spend the time, to lay down, to became a modern Flâneur or a native that do not question his belonging and respect for the land.

Looking at the sky, life runs in him like clouds while the wind is nonstop working.

 

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