In his second solo exhibition at Galeria Millan, titled O fim da metade é o começo do meio [“The end of the half is the beginning of the middle”], Paulo Pasta presents eight large-scale oil canvases, all of which were painted between 2011 and 2012, and six small paintings, also oil on canvas. Along with the vernissage, the evening of May 31st is also the release of the book Educação pela pintura, written by the artist and published by Editora WMF Martins Fontes. The book collects all the painter's writings on art and features a preface written by journalist Antonio Gonçalves Filho.
With O fim da metade é o começo do meio, visitors can observe an overlap with the exhibition Sobrevisíveis, the artist's solo show which was held at Centro Universitário Maria Antonia in 2011. The works that comprise the current exhibition were motivated to a certain extent by a subject also present in last year's exhibit: an exploration of the indetermination of space as the central theme of his paintings, made possible mainly due to the combination of areas of colors that inscribe themselves inside one another without making clear which is being surrounded and which is doing the surrounding.
Six paintings occupy Galeria Millan's ground-floor exhibition space, while two others fill the mezzanine on their own. Both possess the same dimensions (240 x 300 cm) and the same structural format; the difference between them is created by the colors that fill them: one composed of effusive, daytime luminosity; the other, by introspective, noctural colors.
The canvases on display give us access to matters that are decisive in the painter's work, such as the manner in which structure-- objective and determined-- is indetermined by color, an element whose character walks a tight-rope. The designs of internal spaces which the painter starts with (crosses, beams and girders) are filled in by blocks of colors in a potent but silent clash between rupture and continuity, a permanent production of the moment.
When titling his solo exhibition at Galeria Millan, painter Rodrigo Bivar turned to ukiyo-e, a Japanese woodcut method which, translated literally, means “portraits of a floating world.” Due to the thematic relationship with Japanese images, the show, composed of eight oil on canvas paintings, was christened ...ainda assim, flutuante caiçara... (...all the same, coastal floating...).
While before Rodrigo Bivar's paintings awakened a curious estrangement and were evocative of fiction, now they bring to mind a sensation of familiarity – whether through the scenes represented, or their relation to art history. In the new paintings, the artist has frozen ordinary instances in an unstable world. They are random moments of any given day, having in common only the locale in which they take place (the beaches of Ubatuba, on the northern coast of São Paulo state).
The vision of the traveling artist is present all throughout the exhibition, especially in the painting Untitled (Marc Ferrez), in which Bivar paints one of the landscapes of the photographer who most contributed to the documentation of Brazil in the 19th century. The work acts as a guide and practically assumes the role of curatorial text for the exhibit, whose scenes and landscapes allow the forever interested vision of the artist, who still carries that curiosity that habit tends to blind, to shine through.
When observing the set of paintings in the exhibition, the common bond between the works-- the landscape-- becomes the protagonist. In the scenes portrayed, the human figure appears in harmony with the environment, and his behavior-- handling kindling, analyzing a map – is conditioned by it. Each work represents a whole, in which an element refers to that which is beside it, with no hierarchical differentiation between planes. For its part, each painting relates to the others, also in an order of equal importance. Thus, ...ainda assim, flutuante caiçara... presents itself as a perfect Pascalian system, in which it is impossible to recognize the parts without recognizing the whole, and impossible to recognize the whole without recognizing each of its parts.