Different colored glass bottles in the front window of Eduardo Alvarez’ home gives the interior the feeling of a Gothic cathedral, with stained-glass windows (photo by Susan Krueger-Barber)
My neighbor, Eduardo Alvarez, asked my husband and me to come by and give him input regarding his work for 0 Tolerance, his show at Provo’s Writ & Vision gallery. I had spoken with Ed at church regarding Matthew Barney, Cindy Sherman, Gaudí, and Marina Abramovic (rare subjects to come up in a Mormon congregation’s foyer) so I knew he had a grasp on contemporary art and I was curious. Previously, I had seen a few of his paintings and remembered them as thought-full and layered, so I agreed to come over and take a look.
Trophy heads. Victorian furniture. Dried flowers. Ostrich eggs. Animal skulls.
Alvarez’s living room is a panoply of found objects. Acting as a sort of walk-in cabinet of curiosities, the space feels like a shrunk down natural history museum mixed with an antique store mixed with a curio shop. My brain tingles there like it does when I visit the miniatures at the Art Institute of Chicago. The closest experience to the Alvarez residence is the David Ireland House at 500 Capp Street in San Francisco. That house functioned as a live-in studio, open door museum, and a breathing art work for Ireland during his lifetime and continues to act so today. I suspect that Alvarez’s house functions in a similar manner.
Eduardo Alvarez’s entire Provo home has become a Cabinet of Curiosities (photo by Susan Krueger-Barber)
Continuing in this vein, an on-your-honor donation jar should be placed on the Alvarezes’ front porch, because to enter is to witness maximalism at its finest. His living room is a well curated work. A few summers ago, he invited my family over to discuss our recent trip to Gaudí’s “La Sagrada Familia” and look over some of his books on the subject. Back then, I was struck by the in-depth knowledge Alvarez had regarding Gaudí’s history and also how the atmosphere of his living space took on a life of its own. My family left full of ice cream and lemonade with my youngest clutching an ostrich egg, a gift from Alvarez that still holds a place on top of his bookshelves.
Wasp’s nest. Dripped paint. Cheese cloth. Hand imprints. Baby shoes. A shovel.
I was curious to see what a man with such a curated house and contemporary knowledge of art would create. I suspected it would be compelling, and found myself astounded as I walked into his exhibition space. The paintings were filled with found remnants of disregarded treasures. Alvarez’s work captures the precipice of now. It delves into detainment camps, authoritarianism, revolution, the climate crisis, gender identity, and his own memories of leaving Chile with his family in the ’60s. Eduardo takes his cabinet of curiosities and leans into the abject.
Eduardo Alvarez, “Whiter Shade of Pale”
Ghosts struggle to escape the canvas. Jester mask. Broken china. A chained cross. Layers of plaster paint. Fur. Craft store beads and gems. A crystal ball.
The work feels like a cathedral of the forgotten and an alarm ringing now. You can feel the oil, fat, and layered gritted life experience. These paintings are like nothing I have ever seen in Utah. They require in-person viewing for their full impact. Everything looks familiar but unfamiliar. Alvarez’s work is a snapshot of our universal instant–discarded and reimagined into another world that feels like our collective society at its most present. The human species is tiptoeing too close to destruction and teasing the edge. One foot in or out like his mannequin footed assemblage. Alvarez’s paintings fluctuate between a memory, a recording, and a warning to our species. That is the job of an oracle.
Paddle. Screws. Styrofoam. Most of the colors are rich and dark. As I walk through the paintings, I do see breaths of light.
Eduardo Alvarez, “The American Dream”
Lest it seem that Alvarez’s work only highlights urgency and despair, it is important to recognize the light in some compositions as well as his exercises in formalism. Alvarez has carefully constructed abstract works full of play. Objects found like the tops of popcorn poppers coupled with metal plates. There is a joke behind the juxtapositions. Some of the work reminds me of the “Bilds” of Jared Clark, another artist whose paintings have likewise made my brain tingle with joy and envy. Those who appreciate art for its pure composition will be drawn in by Alvarez’s repurposed assemblages. There is a spontaneity and tenderness to his pieces, along with a gifted eye.
When I first met Alvarez at church, it was apparent that I was talking with a kind and thoughtful man. He had insights regarding life and was invested in my family as well as other members of our community. Alvarez is not an artist driven by ego, but one driven by kindness and empathy. His life experience has brought a tenderness to him and an ability to act as a vessel translating the human experience to the canvas.
Eduardo Alvarez, “Here Comes the Flood”
Eduardo Alvarez, “The Worst of Times”
Human lizards made of bones and skin. Screaming man with loose teeth. Dirty Mickey Mouse behind a chain link fence. Stretched shirts and discarded clothing.
Alvarez has been making work for decades. His art is not novel, but holds the weight of a practiced master. When he moved here with his family as immigrants, he didn’t have the luxury of working as a full-time artist. Rather, he spent most of his time as a graphic designer, taking on many jobs to support his family. But I would argue these experiences only make his work stronger. Somehow through the interruptions, he continued to quietly hone his skills and to compose for decades culminating in his current show, 0 Tolerance.
An homage to Pablo Neruda in the form of a ship’s figurehead (photo by Susan Krueger-Barber)
Now is a time artists should be seen in a wider lens, no longer dismissed for living full and necessary lives. Alvarez’s work is only better informed because he became a father, held a nine-to-five job, and developed his craft in various countries. His life up to this moment has been very full. Ruby Russell, his wife, is a notable artist in her own right with an indelible eye. They met while studying art at the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile. The fine arts program was established by Joseph Albers in the sixties along with Walter Gropius. Alvarez and Russell studied under a couple of Albers students and with Mario Carreño, a Chilean artist who was friends and worked with Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. Alvarez and Russell have informed each other in their life and in their work.
Paddle. Screws. Styrofoam. A mylar heart balloon. Plastic lids. Chalk. Eyes agog look out from the surface.
Alvarez’s experiences have only made his work more compelling. Let me emphasize that 0 Tolerance is not a regular show. Eduardo Alvarez’s work must be seen in person. The layers, texture, and composition inform a singular voice. His work has elements of the Gutai group, Alberto Burri, Antoni Tapies, Mark Dion, Francis Bacon, Anselm Kiefer, Doris Salcedo, Marta Minujin and many others.The assemblages indicate a deep and well-lived life. Alvarez’s paintings belong in museums.
Alvarez is a witness.
Alvarez is a collector.
Alvarez is a testifier.
Eduardo Alvarez is an artist who can easily take his place among the most respected in Utah.
Eduardo Alvarez in the backyard of his home in Provo, Utah (photo by Susan Krueger-Barber)
Eduardo Alvarez: 0 Tolerance, Writ and Vision, Provo, through Apr. 30.
Susan Krueger-Barber occupies alter-egos to inflate, expand, and pop tension inherent in discussions of gender fluidity, urban planning, and the status quo. Krueger-Barber has produced films premiering in festivals such as Slamdance and the San Francisco Documentary Film Festival, given input on the redesign of Chicago’s Milwaukee Avenue during an art residency at Corner, attended the Yale and Kenyon Writers Workshops, and been featured in Streetsblog and Strong Towns. She belongs to the cooperative Mother Art-Revisited, a collection of women re-embodying the social-political group Mother Art.
Categories: Exhibition Reviews | Visual Arts
