Yo Soy Museo: Embodying the Museum with Alberto Aguilar

Alberto Aguilar, “Present Memory (A Revision)” 2022, Borrowed museum objects, Courtesy of National Museum of Mexican Art [Photo: Michael Tropea]

As I walk through “Yo Soy Museo” at the National Museum of Mexican Arts, there’s no doubt in my mind that I am experiencing something truly authentic and equally challenging. I’m eager to dive into conversation with Alberto Aguilar about this. It is not an everyday encounter to find an art exhibition composed of an assortment of institutional remnants extracted from that institution. The exhibition acknowledges the museum’s extensive history while celebrating the material abundance that has been left behind at this same place throughout the years. Then, what does it really mean to become a museum? Alberto and I sit down to discuss.


Your exhibition Yo Soy Museo: New Works by Alberto Aguilar at the National Museum of Mexican Art takes us into a world of relationships: from the collaborative aspects of the work to the dialogue that is established between objects, documents, and your own photography. Can you explain the process that led you to build the various installations that comprise this exhibition?

Initially, I thought about making a show about masks. I’m really into masks and I knew that the museum had an extensive collection of masks which I could possibly incorporate into an exhibition. I like masks for their ability to conceal one's identity and allow people to take on new personas. As the date of the exhibition got closer, I wasn’t so sure about the mask idea and I was starting to gravitate more towards returning to my past Domestic Monument series. In this series, I go into people's homes and create sculptures out of their personal belongings. People’s stuff carries meaning, and when combined with other objects in an aesthetic manner, new meaning emerges for the viewer but especially for the owner of the objects. I was thinking about bringing those sculptures made in people's homes into the gallery which then adds another layer of meaning by presenting them as art objects. I think what I ended up doing is a conglomeration of both the mask idea and the domestic monument idea. 

04.05.2020 (Quarantine Regimen), 2020, Borrowed furniture, courtesy the artist.

I did several site visits to the museum. First, I looked at masks in their permanent collection and then as the idea evolved, I snooped around and identified objects hidden away in storage spaces, closets, staff offices, hallways––mostly focusing on items that are usually considered clutter. On the initial walkthrough, I took photos of things and sent them back to the curator of the museum as potential objects I’d use in my installation. After getting permission to use these objects, they were brought into the gallery and a large platform was made to display them. I then meticulously arranged them, sometimes combining them with other objects. The result is similar to my Domestic Monuments but rather than a sculpture, the final installation feels more like an altar which is situated along the north wall of the gallery. 

I also decided to incorporate a variety of artistic gestures that all worked towards the larger concept and title of the show. On the east wall, I made a wall painting using excess paint that the museum had leftover from its Day of the Dead exhibition. The images included in this wall painting are traced from ‘head in a hole’ photo props the museum had stored for future use. By using things that the museum already had on its premises, I created an immersive experience which could also act as a portrait of the museum. On the south wall of the space, the museum printed self portraits I had taken on my phone over the years where I mask my face with everyday objects. Like wallpaper, these 28 portraits cover the entire wall, arranged as a grid. To produce these portraits on adhesive vinyl, I used the same commercial printing company that the museum normally uses to create informational images and text for exhibitions. 

Installation view of Yo Soy Museo: New Works by Alberto Aguilar at the NMMA. Wall: self-portrait series, 2013-2022; pedestal: “Monolith (In Memoriam)”, 2022, Courtesy of National Museum of Mexican Art [Photo: Michael Tropea]

Alberto Aguilar, from the series Present Memory (A Masquerade), 2022, Museum exhibition poster and mask from the permanent collection, courtesy the artist.

On the west wall and by the entrance to the gallery, one can find seven masks from the permanent collection. Instead of being displayed traditionally, they are shown on top of past museum exhibition posters that I sourced from the giftshop. I also filled two glass cases which were from the prior exhibition with more found objects collected from the museum. 

The idea behind Yo Soy Museo is threefold. One: to create an unlikely portrait of the museum using mostly in-house clutter (museum as museum). Two: to present myself through self-portraiture as a pliable material that can change daily. This was done by masking my face with everyday objects I found around me (artist as museum). Three: to put these possibilities out into the world, for the museum visitor to consider their clutter as meaningful objects and their body as an ever-changing form (you as museum). 

Could you tell us the origin of the objects and found artifacts on display?

Most of the objects were found in the in-between spaces of the museum like the hallways, storage, library, staff offices and museum gift shop. Only the masks were part of the permanent collection. Some of the objects I gravitated towards most were fake fruits used for the museum’s annual Dia de los Muertos exhibition, which invites artists from all over to create altars. I also incorporated a dusty sound dome which was no longer in use. These two I combined by hanging the sound dome upside down and filling it with some of the fake fruit. I create these humorous juxtapositions as a way to connect to the viewer. I have found that by turning things upside down or reinventing their former utility, people pay more attention to things they might normally ignore. 

Alberto Aguilar, “Present Memory (A Revision) (detail)”, 2022, Borrowed museum objects.

Alberto Aguilar, “Present Memory (A Revision) (detail)”, 2022, Borrowed museum objects.

In the exhibition, I also included an unsolicited donation the museum received of 30 years of Processo Magazine, a left-wing publication from Mexico. Somebody stopped Cesáreo Moreno, Chief Curator and Visual Arts Director, at the entrance to the museum and asked to donate the magazines which were tied with rope in several bundles. He couldn't refuse the donation. When I saw the bundles in one of the museum storage rooms, I really liked how they were tied. They evoked an old way of tying newspaper bundles using rope and cardboard. I imagined that the person who donated them passed down this process from previous generations. When we brought them into the gallery, I wanted to combine them with other objects but soon realized that I had to untie the bundle in order to do so. I carefully untied the bundles and learned to retie this special knot. I ended up combining the four bundles with a bowl of fake grapes, two toy luchador rinks and a broken ceramic jaguar from the museum gift shop. 

Another significant object I incorporated was a photo of Cesar Chavez when he visited the museum in 1993. Chavez came to promote his boycott of grapes in solidarity with farmworkers and in the photo, is posing with museum staff. He died several days after taking this photo which makes it particularly meaningful. Chavez also brought videotapes of a documentary he was using to promote his efforts which featured many important Latinx actors, titled Uvas No [or in English, No Grapes]. I also incorporated a stack of these videotapes which I found in the storage/library. I created a monolith with the tapes and perfectly fit them under a glass vitrine in combination with some photos. The photos are a series of standard 4”x6” prints I found which are of the museum participating in a National Day without Art from 1994. For this event, museums across the country covered an artwork in their collection with black cloth and these photos show past staff members, including artist Pablo Helguera, taking up this act of protest.

 

Alberto Aguilar, “Present Memory (A Revision) (detail)”, 2022, Borrowed museum objects.

Luis Martín Gamez, “Record of Labor” 2002-14, paint and tape, courtesy the artist.

The last objects that I’d like to highlight are balls of painter’s tape by Luis Martin Gamez, the museum facilities associate who is also the in-house gallery painter. I found these balls in the garbage and knew that I wanted to use them right away. They vary in size and after I spoke with Luis, I found out that the practice of rolling up masking tape into balls after painting the galleries dates back as far as 2002. He also told me that after his strict manager at the museum died (who insisted he prep with masking tape), he began to rely on his own steady hand to finish the edges of his painting.  Eventually he decided to throw out his amassed collection of tape balls and told me he had already thrown out the biggest ones. I was able to save these and put them in one of the glass cases already in the gallery. 

When you speak about your work, you mention a set of rules or parameters that provide a structure to produce an idea. Please tell us about your use of props for generating work.

I sometimes come off as indecisive. I approach art not by bringing in my own choices and aesthetics, but rather by employing a default method for making choices. For instance, the gallery was gray from the previous exhibition so I decided to leave it and work with that as the base. This alleviates the decision-making process and allows me to direct my energies elsewhere. For example, when I hung the past exhibition posters which were the background for the masks, I organized them in chronological order. At that point, the masks were already fixed as to the order in which they would hang. So the posters were selected and hung with an element of chance. If this had been solely dictated by my choice, I don’t think as many serendipitous surprises would occur.

Another example of self-imposed parameters in the exhibition are the records that belonged to Carlos Cortez. By going through countless records in a storage room, I chose a bunch that I liked because of the music or the album cover image. While reviewing my choices back in the gallery, I realized that there were a few I chose with portraits of the musicians on the cover. I then decided to return to the storage room and collect all records with the artist's faces on the covers and just use these. In total, we hung 19 records (as part of the north wall altar) in a grid and defaulted to hanging them in alphabetical order. In the end I like how these records with portraits spoke to my gridded self-portraits across the way on the south wall and this would not have happened if my choices were dictated solely by my own initial taste.

I use the framework of chance in many aspects of my life and it allows me to have freedom from making so many choices, but it also is a generative force which produces unexpected results and I like that. 

Your work doesn’t configure what sometimes is expected from an artist of Mexican descent. Why is it important for you to exhibit your work at the National Museum of Mexican Art?

While visiting the NMMA as a young artist, I always desired to have a solo exhibition there. Even though my work did not have any of the more typical imagery or themes that are prevalent at the museum, I always felt like my work would be at home there. Growing up as a person of Mexican descent, I do have some innate sensibilities which connect me with my background as well as the museum. I choose to keep those innate rather than wear them on my sleeve because I feel it gives me a level of freedom to make work that is not tied to my background. My identity is a complex thing that cannot be streamlined into established imagery or themes. I choose to make work about current experiences and situations and address things in an unbiased way. I like for poetry to emerge through the act of doing or through presenting things factually. 

The arrangement on the north wall of the installation looks altar-like and could reference the Day of the Dead altars that are common in Mexico but it doesn't rely on that reference. On the placard the objects are arranged in a factual manner which I hope allows the viewer to make their own associations and poetic connections. 

Alberto Aguilar, installation view of “Sentinels” 2022, Latex paint, exhibition catalogs and borrowed office objects, Courtesy of National Museum of Mexican Art [Photo: Michael Tropea]

I want to show the complexity of being an artist that exists within multiple identities and navigates a complex worldview. I want to show a contemporary multidisciplinary approach to being an American artist of Mexican descent while simultaneously being a world citizen in the 21st century. I like my work to connect with as many people as possible so I try to create multiple entry points into the work. 

How does your community and personal relationships play a role in your practice? 

My family is my immediate community so they have shown up significantly in my work. I have regularly collaborated with them, especially my children. But they are older now and we are experiencing a transition and as a result, they appear less in my work. The stay-at-home order of 2020 was a hard time for many. For me, it meant losing my father. There were some good aspects of it though: the way it froze time and allowed me more concentrated moments with my children. It allowed them to return to their childhood in many ways but it also gave me an opportunity to collaborate with them again. But now all of my children are in college and our exchange and interaction is changing and it's good. My wife and I are beginning to figure out our life together independent from the kids and it's good.  

In our new home, my daughter Madeleine and I run an exhibition space out of our studio called Mayfield. We use it as an opportunity to meet and work with artists whose work we admire. It’s a big studio space over our garage but rather than just using it for the production of our work, we chose to open it up to other artists to show their work. I think my daughter and I have a mutual interest in surrounding ourselves with a creative community and in creating opportunities for others while creating a stimulus for ourselves. 

I also have a relationship with my students and other artists which is very important to me. Teaching doesn't feel like work to me because I enjoy it and it’s also generative––part of my artistic practice. Some people have a hard time teaching because it gets in the way of them getting to the studio. For me, the classroom is a component of my studio and what we discover in the classroom together is part of my research. When I teach, I don't come in as an authority, but rather, a collaborator. This takes the burden off of me to have all the answers. I like to think of this approach as open, playful and generative. 

Who are some of the artists or movements that have influenced your artistic practice?

I resonate with artists who work with everyday materials and are able to extract poetry out of those materials through their arrangement, attention, and care. Gabriel Orozco, Abraham Cruzvillegas, and Doris Salcedo are among some of these artists. I watched an interview with Gabriel Orozco and he spoke of the studio as a bubble––an artificial place of production––and his need to leave this space in order to break the divisions we create in our different life roles. This interview opened up my practice and allowed me to make work in any situation I find myself in. Rather than having a regular studio, I like having temporary ones like I did at the NMMA. 

I’m also drawn to the matter-of-fact quality of the American Conceptual artists of the 1960’s and 70’s. I like the performance work that came out of this time like John Baldessari’s piece I’m Making Art from 1971. I always show my students the early video work of William Wegman. I like how he seems to chronicle every idea he has through video without judging its quality. I greatly admire the Chicago performance artists Lynn Hixon and Matthew Goulish of Every House Has a Door for their use of simple gestures, repetition, and everyday objects as props. They meticulously rehearse these matter-of-fact performances while keeping them fresh and playful. Also, they regularly collaborate with young artists incorporating them into their performances while allowing them to be themselves. 

I was greatly inspired by the text-based works of Kay Rosen, who was initially a linguist but realized that art was the best vehicle for her work. She uses language as a raw material and as form to play with giving the viewer a revelation through puns, wordplay and humor. 

What are some of the most important things you audiences leave with after experiencing your work?

I want to make a meaningful connection with the viewer. I want to make accessible work with multiple ways to enter it. The more people I connect with, the better. I used to teach art appreciation to non art majors when I worked at Harold Washington College, one of the City Colleges of Chicago. I would give them strategies for appreciating contemporary art not so that they would become artists, collectors, or museum-goers but rather as a way of appreciating life and being more present in whatever moment they are in.

I think that's the experience I try to create in my work. I want to put the viewer in the moment and make them more sensitive to the relationship between things and the relation between them and those things. That's why I turn things upside down, create strange juxtapositions and use humor when arranging objects: as a way to get people to pay attention. Learning comes from being presented with new ideas or new experiences.  For me, that's the power of art. 

YO SOY MUSEO: New works by Alberto Aguilar is on view at the Xicágo Gallery in the National Museum of Mexican Art until February 12, 2023.


Edra Soto is a Puerto-Rican born artist, curator, educator, and co-director of the outdoor project space, The Franklin. Soto has exhibited extensively at venues including El Museo del Barrio, NY; Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art's satellite, The Momentary, AK; Museum of Contemporary Art of Chicago, IL; Smart Museum, IL; the Abrons Arts Center, NY and the Whitney Museum of American Art; NY. Soto's large-scale public art commission titled “Screenhouse”, is currently on view at Millennium Park in Chicago. The artist has attended residency programs at Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, ME, Beta-Local, PR, the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation Residency, FL, Headlands Center for the Arts, NY, Project Row Houses, TX and Art Omi, NY, among others. Soto has been awarded the Efroymson Contemporary Arts Fellowship, the Illinois Arts Council Agency Fellowship, the inaugural Foundwork Artist Prize and the Joan Mitchell Foundation Painters & Sculptors Grant, among others. Between 2019-2020, Soto exhibited and traveled to Brazil, Puerto Rico, and Cuba as part of the MacArthur Foundation’s International Connections Fund. Soto holds an MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and a bachelor’s degree from Escuela de Artes Plásticas y Diseño de Puerto Rico. The artist lives and works in Chicago.

ALBERTO AGUILAR is a Chicago based artist that uses whatever material is at hand in an attempt to make a meaningful connection with the viewer. He does not distinguish his art practice from his other various life roles which allows him to make work wherever he is. He has shown and presented his work at various museums, galleries, storefronts, homes and street corners around the world. Some of these include the Queens Museum, El Torito Supermercado, The Minneapolis Institute of Art, the corner of Cesar Chavez Ave and North Broadway in Los Angeles, CA, The Museum of Contemporary Art in Detroit, Chicago City Hall, The Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago, Museo Del Jamon in Madrid, Spain, The Art Institute of Chicago, The Chicago River (Jackson Bridge), The Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art, El Cosmico Trailer Park, Marfa, TX, El Centro de Desarrollo de las Artes Visuales, Havana, Cuba, Iowa rest stop I-80. His work is in the collection of the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, The Jorge Lucero Study Collection, Soho House, Meta - Facebook, The National Museum of Mexican Art, The Office of Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot. Along with some members of his family he collectively organizes Mayfield, a multi-use space which operates on the grounds of his home.

Previous
Previous

Critical Latina Feminist Perspectives on Reproductive Health Post-Roe

Next
Next

Amalia Mesa-Bains’ Venus Envy, Chapter 1: Domesticana Defiance and Ephemeral Memories