Silas Martí

  • View of “Lado a Lado,” 2016.
    picks May 16, 2016

    Willys de Castro

    The work of Willys de Castro is less silent than we assume. Sparsely hung with only two or three artworks in each of the exhibition’s four rooms, the Neo-concrete artist’s latest solo show gives his “Objeto Ativo” (Active Object) series, 1959-1962, enough space to breathe. Some of his most famous and influential pieces are on display, and the slender pieces of wood covered in geometric patterns engage with poems by the artist—many unknown until now—that are shown alongside the works.

    Lado a Lado,” Portuguese for “side by side,” is the title of one such poem and also the name of the exhibition.

  • Left: Alice Weiner and artist Lawrence Weiner. Right: Artist Paulo Nazareth and dealer Matthew Wood. (Except where noted, all photos: Silas Martí)
    diary September 08, 2014

    Slow Burn

    IF THE HUSTLE AT PARTIES and the hypnotic glut of Instagram are trustworthy barometers, then the opening week of the Thirty-First Bienal de São Paulo was noticeably slower, less lavish, and less aggressive in its social engagements than any in recent memory.

    Indeed, things seemed a little too quiet in the days leading up to the inauguration. But then on August 28, artists in the show, titled “How to (…) things that don’t exist,” launched an open letter protesting Israeli financial support of the biennial, which some participants, like Tony Shakar and the duo Basel Abbas and Ruanne Abou-Rahme,

  • Left: Bienal do Mercosul curator Sofía Hernández Chong Cuy and artist Fernanda Laguna. Right: Artist Aleksandra Mir's installation on the bay of the Guaíba lake in Porto Alegre. (All photos: Silas Martí)
    diary September 21, 2013

    Weather or Not

    IT WAS A BRIGHT, scorching day in Porto Alegre. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, no wind. You could have fried an egg on the pavement—nothing like the wintry feel the southernmost capital city in Brazil usually boasts this time of year. It was last Wednesday, and Sofía Hernández Chong Cuy, the Mexican curator in charge of the ninth installment of the Bienal do Mercosul, was piling into a helicopter with a photographer and curator Raimundas Malasauskas. She wanted to get a bird’s-eye view of Aleksandra Mir’s “secret” work: a pile of garbage made to look like a satellite fallen from the sky,