Correspondence Isaki Lacuesta – Naomi Kawase

  • October 18, 2014 / 19:00
  • October 30, 2014 / 19:00

Spain, Japan, 2008–2009, DV, 16mm, color, 43’
Spanish and English with Turkish subtitles

The seven-part correspondence between Isaki Lacuesta und Naomi Kawase, who had only briefly met beforehand at a festival, revolves around proximity and distance as well as what it actually means to meet someone and get to know them. Their joint film In Between Days shows scenes from their private lives, including intimate moments in home-movie style, sometimes without sound, as well as images of journeys to faraway countries, of a natural history museum in Catalonia, of prayers in Japan and of excerpts from a silent film by Segundo de Chomón, the Spanish Méliès.

Correspondence José Luis Guerín – Jonas Mekas

Correspondence José Luis Guerín – Jonas Mekas

Correspondence Jaime Rosales – Wang Bing

Correspondence Jaime Rosales – Wang Bing

Correspondence Isaki Lacuesta – Naomi Kawase

Correspondence Isaki Lacuesta – Naomi Kawase

Correspondence Fernando Eimbcke – So Yong Kim

Correspondence Fernando Eimbcke – So Yong Kim

Correspondence Albert Serra – Lisandro Alonso

Correspondence Albert Serra – Lisandro Alonso

The Conventions of Identity

The Conventions of Identity

The exhibition “Look At Me! Portraits and Other Fictions from the ”la Caixa” Contemporary Art Collection” examined portraiture, one of the oldest artistic genres, through a significant number of works of our times. Paintings, photographs, sculptures and videos shaped a labyrinth of gazes that invite spectators to reflect themselves in the social mirror of portraits.

Girl in a Blue Dress

Girl in a Blue Dress

This life-size portrait of a girl is a fine example of the British art of portrait painting in the early 18th century. The child is shown posing on a terrace, which is enclosed at the right foreground by the plinth of a pillar; the background is mainly filled with trees and shrubs. 

Midnight Stories: The Soul <br> Aşkın Güngör

Midnight Stories: The Soul
Aşkın Güngör

The wind blows, rubbing against my legs made of layers of metal and wires, swaying the leaves of grass that have shot up from the cracks in the tarmac, and going off to the windows that look like the eyes of dead children in the wrecked buildings that seem to be everywhere as far as the eye can see.