Beyond the Frames of Ideals: Spanish painter Enrique Marty’s exhibitions at the Ateneo Art Gallery and Instituto Cervantes

Based in Valladolid, Spain, Guzmán was supposed to pursue a career in architecture until she emigrated in 1999 and shifted to curatorial work at the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Castilla y León (MUSAC). Her life experience resonates with the exhibition, which addresses the idea of home—a theme close to Marty.

Marking her first curatorial work in the Philippines, Guzmán had sort of a homecoming with the two-part exhibition. Meanwhile, she opened a second exhibition for Marty at the Instituto Cervantes in Intramuros last November, which was more of an enlightening experience.

It resulted from Marty’s encounter with National Artist Kidlat Tahimik. He initially proposed to Instituto Cervantes his ongoing work, All your world is pointless, a series of video essays he had been working on since 2013 that condenses his philosophical views on art, the world and humanity. Little did he realise that encountering such an iconic artist, who studied and initially made a career in Germany, would lead him to do Wolves at the Door, his first foray into volume animation

Wolves at the Door is the seventh episode of Marty’s All your world is pointless, and features watercolour paintings that explore the life of German teenager Kaspar Hauser, who was known to have appeared in Nuremberg on May 26, 1828. 

“Apparently, he could not speak, nor could he stand up, walk or eat anything other than bread and water. His mental state sparked many hypotheses about his origins, and his end was equally mysterious,” the exhibition notes explained.

This character was the first role Kidlat Tahimik portrayed in a feature film by Werner Herzog, an acclaimed filmmaker influential to the National Artist’s career. Marty incorporates the character of Kidlat Tahimik in his video, turning him into a shaman, an erudite to whom the young man turns after his liberation, transforming Herzog’s tragic end into something more hopeful. Thus, the artist reflects on the construction of identity in a world that he finds meaningless.

The exhibition juxtaposed Marty’s watercolour works with his video Cosmic Encounters, which documents his conversation between Guzmán and Kidlat Tahimik in Baguio in August 2024. The interview reveals many parallels in the works of the two artists, such as the visibility of the “other” materialised in the representation of Kaspar Hauser and the role played by Kidlat Tahimik in the 1974 film.

Tell us more about Enrique Marty and how the exhibitions came about

Kristine Guzmán (KG): I have lived in Spain for 25 years and have worked in the cultural sector for a large part of my career. As a cultural manager and curator, I have the opportunity to bring culture closer to society and to introduce other forms of artistic expression. So, it has always been a challenge for me to curate Filipino artists in Spain and Spanish artists in the Philippines.

In 2017, I curated a small exhibition of Kristoffer Ardeña and Kat Medina in an artist-run space in Madrid, and in 2022, I invited the Aquilizans to make a site-specific show at MUSAC, León, where I used to work. But I never lost sight of one day curating in the Philippines. While working at MUSAC, I sent a couple of proposals to art museums in Manila, hoping to exhibit the MUSAC Collection, but they never prospered. During one of my visits back home, I contacted Boots Herrera and visited the Ateneo Art Gallery (AAG), where she was the director. I saw the Mabini Art Project: 100 Paintings by the Aquilizans from the AAG Collection. It prompted me to propose a joint exhibition with Enrique Marty on the topic of art appropriation in the context of new modes of (re)production. However, that original proposal evolved into a different project that dealt with family and belonging: Project Belonging: From There to Here. Since we couldn’t find a date that would suit Enrique and the Aquilizan’s agendas, we agreed to divide the exhibition into two parts, which also worked conceptually.

KG: With the Instituto Cervantes, I have been in contact with José Fons for many years, collaborating at the [Spanish] film festival Película. I told him about Enrique Marty’s exhibition at Ateneo. He suggested taking advantage of his visit to the Philippines to make another exhibition at Instituto Cervantes within the framework of Espacios Ocupados, a series of artistic projects developed in cities where Instituto Cervantes has a centre, wherein Spanish artists would engage in a dialogue with the local context.

Considering the exhibition space and the economic means available, I thought it would be best to present a video project. At that time, Enrique started Episode VII of All your world is pointless, a series of videos he started in 2013 as a video essay of his thoughts about the art world, Europe and humanity in general. Episode VII revolved around the story of Kaspar Hauser, a German teenager who was found in a square in Nuremberg in 1828 and claimed to have been brought up in captivity like a noble savage. His character was brought to the big screen in 1974 by Werner Herzog. In that film, a young Kidlat Tahimik appeared for the first time as an actor, playing a key role: an indigenous person exhibited as an attraction in a human zoo.

I told Enrique about Kidlat’s role in the film, and we found it to be the perfect dialogue for the work to be presented at Instituto Cervantes. In his video, he turns him into a shaman, a wise man whom Kaspar Hauser approaches after his release. Enrique exalts Kidlat and transforms him into a subject venerated by the Western man, who, this time, is the ridiculed “other.”

How do you find Kidlat Tahimik’s artistry? What things have you discovered in him while working on this project?

KG: Enrique Marty and I had the chance to interview Kidlat Tahimik after the opening at the Ateneo Art Gallery in August. It was a very enriching experience. He received us in his artists’ spaces VOCAS and Ili-likha, both magical places exuding with creativity. I discovered many parallelisms in the work of Enrique and Kidlat—the search for imperfection, the use of craftsmanship and low-tech, the synergies of their installations with their films, the taste for the Baroque, or the constant self-representation.

Conceptually, though Kidlat’s work has a decolonial tone, both are critical of how the “other” is perceived. Kidlat’s exhibition at the Palacio de Cristal in Madrid is an ode to those indigenous people who participated in the “human zoo” of the General Exhibition of the Philippines at that same venue in Madrid in 1887. Meanwhile, Enrique has also delved into the topic of the freaks as carnival attractions in his 2007 exhibition at MUSAC, Flaschengeist. The German’s Cottage.

I admire Kidlat not only because of his talent and capacity for creation in different types of media—which is undoubtedly outstanding—but also because of his generosity towards the artistic community in Baguio, providing them with the opportunity to showcase their art and craft in his artists’ spaces. I admire his decolonial discourse and his support for local art, promoting values of sustainability (where nature provides the raw material for his art) and co-creation.

How do you find the Aquilizans’ shared artistry? What things have you discovered in them while working on this project?

KG: I have always been a fan of the Aquilizans ever since I discovered their work. I felt connected to them, being an immigrant myself and finding that they are capable of expressing through art, the feelings that I couldn’t express in words like being in the “space in between” or being “neither here nor there”.

It is a common question how duos or collectives work, but I think it works organically in the Aquilizans’ case. You don’t really know where the contribution of one ends and the other begins. They’ve been partners in art and life for so many years now that their art surges as a joint expression of their life situations. They never cease to amaze me. One project can be an iteration of another, always adapting to the local context, but with the exhibition at the AAG, they took their work one step further. The balikbayan box installations have evolved into a new body of work that is also a bold statement of their comeback: Nothing to Declare.

In working with Enrique Marty for these projects, what curatorial approach or prompts helped you define the exhibitions you wanted the visitors to experience?

KG: The Filipinos are very family-oriented but Enrique challenges the audience in a way that he questions the hypocrisy of the ideal families. The paintings exhibited at the AAG are like mirrors: they make visible the family traumas we all have inside and are difficult to express. Especially in the Filipino context, where we prefer not to share our “dirty clothes”, Enrique invites us to an inner introspection to understand our own circumstances. He questions the “normal” by showing us the dark side.

What messaging do you want visitors to receive or perceive when experiencing the exhibitions?

KG: The visitors’ reactions and the connection they can feel with a work make an exhibition complete. It doesn’t matter if they have a positive or negative reaction to a work, as long as it doesn’t leave them indifferent because it means that they felt something, be it attraction or repulsion. In all my exhibitions, I want to provoke the audience's thoughts and make them question fixed ideas.

What interests you the most in Marty’s artistic process?

KG: Enrique is an artist with a deep understanding of art history and certain philosophical currents intertwined in his works. His most recent series, De profundis, is a good example of this. In these paintings, he links his personal repertoire with the traditions and practices of the old and new masters, entering into a dialogue with the History of Art. For example, he uses allegories, references to the Kunstkammer, the Vanitas, or Baroque literature, and how these can all relate to contemporary times.

What draws you [Marty] to these Filipino artists? Or, if I may rephrase, what intrinsic links do you have with these Filipino artists?

Enrique Marty (EM): The connection points would be those Kristine developed in her curatorial concept. The relationship to the family and the analysis of it from the point of view of the work. In my case, I think, from a more critical point of view towards the family, at least towards my own family. There is also a common point in the use of recycled materials. Not in the works that were present in the exhibition at the Ateneo but in other series and open fields such as, The fall of the idols.

KG: Enrique has always been fascinated by Filipino cinema and folklore. The monsters from our folklore find a link in his fascination for representing the monstrous in human nature. Nietzsche is one of his main references, and to paraphrase him: “Those who fight monsters must take care to not become monsters themselves. When you spend a long time looking into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you”.

What was most challenging in mounting this exhibition? What learnings about your artistic process were revealed in mounting these exhibitions?

EM: It was undoubtedly the realisation of the mural in situ. There was a very limited time, and it had to work and fit in with the rest of the exhibition. But it was very satisfying to do it, and I was very happy with the result.

KG: The mural was an important curatorial decision taken at the last moment. So, it was challenging for me to convince Enrique to do it, and more so, in such a limited time (two days). But I was confident about his capacity to do it as I know he can adapt to any circumstance. He is very flexible such that he can do large-scale and small-scale work, and the results will always be outstanding.

What does art mean to you, Enrique?

EM: It is the exploration that starts from oneself and extends to the world.

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