I, Afro, 2018. Courtesy of the artist.
Raquel Villar-Pérez [C&AL]: In your career as a visual artist, there is a moment when you begin touching on topics related to Afro-descendants in Argentina. What brought about this turn?
Gaby Messina: I reached a point in my work when I realized that I needed to tell my own story instead of those of other people. It began with my projects Fe , Maestros , El Bosque and El Árbol (Faith, Maestros, The Forest and The Tree).
When I was twenty years old, my father was the victim of a violent assassination. Fe (2011) gave me an opportunity to express the frustration I felt at this death and at the fact that I hadn’t been able to talk about it for many years. I allowed myself to open up about the hopelessness I felt towards the Christian tradition in which I was brought up as well as towards the socio-political system that discouraged my mother from denouncing the death of my father.
In Maestros (2016) I interviewed 112 Argentine artists who worked actively during the dictatorship. They were all elderly people and soon after our interview, some of them passed away. This was a call for attention about myself, my identity, my roots, who I am and why I suffered so much in my childhood, why I felt different. In both projects I started to use the symbol of the tree as a metaphor for roots, identity and the search for oneself.
Margarita (2017) was the first project on Afro-Argentines and their invisibility in Argentina. In the experimental documentary Yo, Afro (2018) immerse myself in a more analytical investigation, working together with political scientist Ana Paula Penchaszadeh.
Margarita, 2017. Courtesy of the artist.
[C&AL]: In recent years a kind of “fashion” seems to have emerged among international cultural agents who are not themselves of African or indigenous descent but who deal with these issues. Is this problematic? And when do you cross the line from being an ally and becoming an opportunist?
GM: This is a complex discussion. When I propose to talk about racism I find myself quite alone in the artistic field. I started to discover different Afro groups, and yet there are very few contemporary art projects that deal with racism. My interest in this subject stems from the discrimination I suffered as a child. I’m not black but I’m not white either. On the one hand, it’s interesting to live the experience from both sides, but at the same time it’s very difficult because you realize that racism continues and how the color of your skin defines who is entitled to this or that. There are people in my country who are visibly African-American and discriminate against me because I am not black enough to deal with these issues in my work. I also ask myself whether you need to be Jewish to talk about the Holocaust, and how do I legitimize my right to talk about these issues?
The truth is that navigating the intersection of African descent is a complex matter to the point where it blocks me creatively. I think that in the face of the little, weak or entirely denied possibility of rethinking this situation in Argentina, anyone who works on these issues should be welcomed.
Íntegro, integro, integró, 2018. Courtesy of the artist.