Iván Argote, “Impermanent”
by David S. Rubin
Perrotin, Los Angeles, California
Exhibition continues through January 25, 2025
January 11, 2025
Iván Argote, “Turistas: King Charles III of Spain,” 2013, C-print, 63 x 47 1/4”. All images courtesy of Perrotin Los Angeles.
Born and raised in Colombia in a family of political militants, Paris-based Iván Argote has spent more than a decade enacting performative interventions that question the rationale behind public monuments of powerful historical figures. It’s a timely topic in the United States and abroad, where statues steeped in the legacies of colonialism or slavery have been removed or relocated to museums from public squares. Such structures are, in Argote’s opinion, symbols of dominance that tell, at best, narrow versions of the histories of colonization, versions that tend to overlook the plights of those who were enslaved or displaced. In his current exhibition, a provocative sampling of projects undertaken since 2012 is presented in the form of photographic documentation, a sculptural installation, and a three-part video.
Los Angeles was the setting for one of Argote’s earliest interventions, which involved altering a statue of King Charles III of Spain located in downtown’s El Pueblo de Los Angeles Historic Park. According to the inscription on the sculpture’s plaque, the Spanish king “ordered the founding of El Pueblo de la Reina de Los Angeles in 1781,” i.e. took credit for “discovering” Los Angeles. Argote’s reaction to the sculpture was to dress it in a colorful poncho as a reference to the pre-colonial populations who lived here prior to the arrival of Spaniards. Centrally positioned in the photograph on view, the garment is an emblematic symbol. It contrasts sharply with the statue’s monochromatic bronze surface, while also standing out emphatically against the grayish atmosphere of an overcast day. In a related recent work, “Turistas: Roma, Villa Borghese, October 12” (2024), Argote adorned a statue of Christopher Columbus in similar fashion on Columbus Day, which is also celebrated in the artist’s native Colombia. Once regarded as the heroic discoverer of America, Columbus has become a controversial figure, as greater attention has been paid to his evident mistreatment of slaves and indigenous peoples.
Iván Argote, “Etcetera: Covering with Mirrors Francisco de Orellana, the So-Called Discoverer of the Amazon,”
2012-18, C-print, 63 x 63”.
In addressing the effects of historical colonialism, Argote does not limit himself only to considering the impact on displaced people. As reflected in his “Etcetera” and “Wild Flowers” series, he also calls attention to authoritarian leaders’ neglect and destruction of the environment. Growing up not that far from the Amazon basin, he is particularly sensitive to the disappearance of rainforests and their inhabitants. For “Etcetera” (2012-18), which took place in Bogotá, Argote altered a statue of Spaniard Francisco de Orellana, the so-called discoverer of the Amazon. Here he placed a mirrored box over the sculpture’s head, camouflaging it with reflections of surrounding tree foliage and thereby honoring the land itself.
“Wild Flowers” is an ongoing series of installations in which the artist fabricates a replica of a public sculpture of a powerful figure and then deconstructs it and repurposes the body parts as planters for flowers that are native to the region where they are exhibited. For the newest incarnation, the artist created a bronze copy of the “Augustus of Prima Porta” (1st century AD), dismembered it, and filled the resultant vessels with soil and wildflowers. Conceptually, the installation contrasts an embodiment of violence and aggression (Augustus) with the vibrancy and splendor of natural, organic growth. Lyrically rhythmic against a bare white wall, the bustling plants also remind us of nature’s beauty, preciousness, and resilience.
Iván Argote, “Wild Flowers: Augustus” series, 2024, bronze, plants and soil, installation view.
Argote’s most ambitious interventions are revealed in his video “Levitate (2022),” which documents three simulations of taking down and levitating large public monuments associated with the historical figures who abused and displaced native populations. For Part 1, set in Rome, Argote built a copy of the Flaminio Obelisk, which was transported to Rome in the first century BC by Emperor Augustus to commemorate the conquest of Egypt. As the camera captures the replica being lifted by cranes and floated above the city, Argote’s voiceover explains that obelisks are symbols of power and control that he hopes will someday simply fly away. His obelisk is then moved close to the real monument in the Piazza del Popolo, where it is laid flat on the ground like a corpse, lifted up in the air in a vertical position, and then split into fragments. In Part 2, the action begins with the raising of another replica — this one a statue of Columbus. Captured appropriately on Columbus Day (celebrated in Spain since 1892), most of the footage is of the statue being transported in a horizontal position on the bed of a truck through the streets of Madrid.
The final episode was shot at the Place Vauban in Paris, which houses a statue of Joseph Gallieni, a military leader who established numerous French colonies around the world. In this segment, Argote impersonates a workman, in a hard hat and reflective clothing, who climbs a ladder to wrap the sculpture with straps from the crane. Although he couldn’t dislodge the original sculpture without severe consequences, the artist convincingly portrays its removal in his video using AI technology to create a deep fake, so that it appears as if the object is lifted from its pedestal and suspended in the air.
Iván Argote, “Levitate,” 2022, still from single-channel video, 23 minutes 48 seconds.
Argote has stated that these interventions are intended to raise awareness of the tarnished pasts and propagandistic purposes of so many public monuments. In his narration, he shares personal anecdotes about the locations, explains the histories and contexts of the obelisk and statues, and posits the idea of a future when the structures will ultimately be taken down. He concludes by uttering, “Let’s take one last break, and start the conversation.” Judging by the screen-shots of online reactions to these projects, the dialogue has in fact begun. After seeing media coverage about the Gallieni project, so many people thought it had been removed that city officials posted a picture of it in situ as evidence that it was actually still standing.
