Transformation and the Power of Transcendence:
Isabel De Obaldía’s New Work
Penny C. Morrill
Isabel De Obaldía's new work from 2004 evokes the potential power that is intrinsic in women. The unique relationship between this artist and her work during the act of creating requires more than imagining what the final outcome might be. De Obaldía finds herself wrestling with her chosen medium as she lifts the molded form from the kiln, sometimes polishing and grinding a piece, sometimes engraving the crystal with surface details on a lathe. She relishes the physicality of her work, a creative experience that seems to be in continuous relationship with her life as a wife, mother, and triathlon athlete.
Critics and art historians frequently conjure up descriptive words for De Obaldía's glass sculptures that relate to masculinity. They write of the virility of the work, its muscularity, fury, and sensuality. Remarkable indeed, is it not, that today there is a woman who is giving expression to the Life Force in male form?
For centuries, the iconic female has been the carrier of abstract meaning. In the biblical Book of Proverbs, she is the personification of Wisdom. The Virgin Mary holds multiple roles as Mother of God, the Queen of Heaven, and the Church. Woman has personified Abundance, Charity, Love, and the Nation. As Mother Earth, she brings forth life from the cave or from rivers and streams.
De Obaldía's glass torsos are headless and armless, their maleness sometimes suggested, sometimes not. She occasionally allows the legs to remain, but only in part, detached from the body. These torsos are like the sculpture that has survived with only tenuous ties to a historical or archaeological context. They bring to mind the surviving fragments of the sculptural program of the Parthenon's pediments and friezes, all carefully arranged at the British Museum in London.
Although these Greek gods and goddesses have not been worshipped for centuries, their human form evinces beauty and transcendent power in the very strength of the body. The appreciation for physical beauty, with its implied references to spirituality, would seem to be universal. We find ourselves reacting in much the same way to the sculpted human figures of pre-conquest Mesoamerica—the Olmec Wrestler, the images of Mayan rulers carved on stele, and the Mezcala figurines. We arrive at that same discovery when we encounter the spiritual strength of De Obaldía’s glass torsos.
De Obaldía's sculptured figures can evoke another kind of power, the dark side of the human spirit, so frightening that it is difficult to contemplate and, therefore, to even express. In De Obaldía's two works, Dientes and Medusa, we come dangerously close to the nightmarish edge of violence, destruction, and cruelty of which humanity is capable. And yet, alongside the monstrous in all of us resides the awe-inspiring power of imagination, joy, love, and hope. Estrella does not take place in the sky, but in the mind and heart of a man or woman. This burst of orange beneath a silver surface conjures up a vision of the cosmic explosion of stars that has been perceived by a mind capable of extending beyond sensual and physical boundaries. In this work, we are given the opportunity to be present at that significant moment when the imagination conceived of reality.
Light, so often a metaphor for divine presence, becomes transformative. When light flows through the glass, the torsos come to life and we are allowed to see the spirit within and the body without. In Espada de cobre, scarified striations define the surface. At the same time, reds bubble and boil like liquid fire deep within the glass, threatening to break through the bounds of the taut surface membrane. This energy is vital and primordial, before time and before birth.
A moth alights on a tree-trunk, beneath the protective cover of a branch bent over with the weight of summer growth. This tiny creature is suddenly entrapped by the viscous tree resin, and immobilized in the amber at that moment when life becomes death. In so many of De Obaldía’s sculptures—Aves, Cangrejo y bicho, Alacranes, Camaleón and Sapo verde—the animal brings life to the glass. These animals are reminiscent of the nahuas who, for the ancient Olmecs and Aztecs, acted as receptacles for the spirit. The priest-ruler could transform into the eagle or jaguar, accepting the animal's power. The transformed spirit then became capable of transcending human limitations, traveling not only to unknown earthly regions, but to different states of being, from life to death to life again.
How then can the artist express this transcendence of the material world? The Olmec stone-carver depicted a jaguar rising up on its rear paws. De Obaldía has chosen to mold torsos of glass. Their transparency allows the animals on the surface to be one with the human figure. Crabs and centipedes scramble across the sand, seeming to follow the most basic of instincts. This is what we know of them and the qualities they impart. Scorpions, acting as they are meant to act, threaten with their poisonous and painful bite, a metaphor for uncontrolled human cruelty.
Woman and man are formed of ash, dust, and the detritus of the earth. These humble materials are joined together and miraculously brought to life. Just so with glass. Fragile and transparent, it is formed of earthly elements that are fused in the heat of the fire. In Estrella the surface is electrified from within by jagged lines in flaming oranges and reds. In Ambar and Camuflaje metals infused in the glass invigorate the figures when the light scatters across the surface, producing a shimmering and quickening effect. Thus, the inanimate is brought to life.
October, 2004
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