Vigo, a city that in the early 20th century, also dreamt about being a metropolis

“On the occasion of the 90th anniversary of the first showing of the film, Metropolis, by Fritz Lang, in the former Odeón cinema, we take a look back at what was certainly a turning point in Vigo’s history, a moment in which the past, present and future came together in this perfect and elegant harmony, known as art deco. A style which somehow managed to seamlessly combine classic and ultramodern design.

Metropolis – German expressionist science-fiction film – seemed to be the mirror our city wished to see itself reflected in. As perhaps the 1930s was when Vigo was closest to becoming a real cinema metropolis. In October 1930, the famous architect Antonio Palacios received a very special commission from the City Council: To draw up an urban plan: “Plan for extension and reformation of the inner city of Vigo”, which would be delivered two years later and received definitive municipal approval in January 1934.

In turn, just as art nouveau was going out of style, the Art deco style (the abbreviation of arts décoratifs) was beginning to emerge, with one coinciding with the autumn and the other with the spring of 1910. However, it wasn’t until the “roaring twenties” that this artistic movement really reached its peak.

In 1925, Paris opened the historic Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes, exhibiting the best creations of designers of the stature of Ruhlmann, Lalique or Rateau, synonymous with luxury and sophistication. However, two decades before, Le Figaro had published on the front page of their Saturday edition (February 20th, 1909), one of the most iconoclastic texts in the history of art: the Manifesto of Futurism. The author of these words was none other than the Italian poet and publisher Filippo Tommaso Marinetti and the Manifesto laid the foundations of one of the most controversial historical avant-garde movements. A rebelliousness that spoke of  ‘demolishing’ museums and libraries, of ‘combating” moralism and “all opportunistic and utilitarian cowardice”, to end with a praise of the hectic modern city.

However, in reality, progress is not incompatible with respect for heritage, something that the city of the olive tree, unfortunately, was to learn too late. And it is precisely in a building like this, the home of MARCO de Vigo, where our discourse acquires its true meaning. Because the old Palace of Justice on Príncipe street did not succumb, as did others, to the devastating real estate speculation of the latter part of the 20th century. Converted into Contemporary Art Museum of the city, its walls are housing recent creations, in different artistic disciplines, of the contemporary Galician artists.”

XOSÉ MANUEL CASTRO. The Philosopher’s Stone

“Stone is no longer the medium through which the figure materialises. Stone is now the figure. Human, animal or vegetable forms will not be recognised in his most iconic work, because it is the stones themselves, with all of their mineral morphology, which prevail. Nonetheless, Castro’s artistic creation appears to go one step further, moving closer to a sort of “neo-alchemy”, in which he does not attempt to make gold from lead, but instead aspires to a new dimension of lifelessness. An absence of life that appears to be more of a state of deep sleep, the result of some sort of curse, or perhaps an unknown hibernation process.

Nature offers its inner raw product, an unborn element which the sculptor must essentially breathe life into. This refers neither to an anthropomorphic life, nor to a zoomorphic life, as while stones must remain stones, they must also depict emotions, a tear sliding down its epidermal surface, opening up through the clean cut of a scalpel. And, as in the work of the most prestigious plastic surgeon, it must all seem very natural following this aesthetic operation, as if it was nature itself that was the true maker of this work of art.

Alchemy, as practised in ancient Mesopotamia, Pharaonic Egypt, or by the Persian Empire before the Greeks and Romans developed their respective civilisations and placed down roots within our classical traditions, has always filled this particular space reserved for protoscience. Alchemy was constructed on philosophical foundations, and combined, in what was a totum revolutum, an almost mythical metallurgy, bringing together a variety of disciplines including astrology, medicine, physics, chemistry, art and mysticism to name but a few. And within this inscrutable alchemic universe, this philosopher’s stone, was, for many centuries, its most sought after goal.

A legendary substance, which it was said could transmute lead into gold. But aside from its incredible and magical feats, this philosopher’s stone was a true elixir of eternal youth, and the source of immortality. And for this very reason, this cumbersome and convoluted procedure was known as Opus magnum, or the Great Work.

But does art not share its eternal aspiration with alchemy? Does art not have the same aspirations as alchemy, to transmute the raw materials it finds within, adding a certain elegance, fineness, delicacy and life to this vulgar fruit which sprouts from the roots of the Earth? And the artist as a plastic alchemist, does it not yearn for this very immortality that only his Opus magnum can yield?”

Rubén Martínez Alonso
Exhibition Curator