| COLOMBIAN ARTIST'S OUTRAGE ON CANVAS |
| Written by Maria Elena Salinas |
| Tuesday, May 17 2005 |
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| For most people, the abuse of Iraqi prisoners in Abu Ghraib is old news. Seven American service people have been sentenced for the abuse, and another two are facing trial. Internal investigations found no wrongdoing in the military hierarchy; one general got a demotion, while others just got a slap on the wrist for neglect. That's that.
But famed Colombian artist Fernando Botero wants to make sure the world does not forget what he calls "the perverse violence" committed by U.S. soldiers, so he decided to sear into our memories the horrors of Abu Ghraib through a series of paintings depicting the humiliating exploitation that dozens of prisoners were subjected to at the infamous Iraqi prison.
Art lovers know Botero as an undisputed master of contemporary Latin American art. His paintings of voluptuous figures in everyday situations have graced many museums around the world; his monumental bronze sculptures have adorned some of the most famous avenues in Manhattan, Paris and Beverly Hills. But in the past few years, he has gone through a sort of metamorphosis.
Not leaving behind his traditional joyful, lighthearted and, at times, risqué style, Botero has put his conscience on canvas, first portraying the violence ripping apart his beloved Colombia with a series of paintings of drug kingpins, guerrilla leaders and bloody massacres, and now depicting the prisoner abuse at Abu Ghraib.
The series of 50 large oil paintings -- all called "Abu Ghraib" and numbered 1 through 50 -- is the result of what Botero calls "the indignation" he felt after reading about the torture in Iraq. "Each painting affects me and creates an impact, because I made them from the heart," said Botero. He emphasized that they are not a depiction of the infamous pictures that circulated around the world, but rather of the descriptions that he read in the media. The artist says he became obsessed with the story and read everything he could get his hands on about the issue before putting his outrage on canvas in his homes in New York and Paris.
One painting shows three naked, bound and hooded Iraqis in a human pyramid. Another depicts blood pouring out of a detainee; yet another shows an American soldier swinging a bloody club at the head of a half-naked man.
The Colombian artist says he does not believe in making money from human tragedy. These paintings are not for sale; they will be part of his personal collection. However, he will be lending them out to museums. Beginning June 16, they will become part of an exhibit of 170 paintings that opens in Rome's Venice Palace, the former home of Benito Mussolini, and will travel to Stuttgart, Germany, then Athens, Greece. He is hoping it will make it to the U.S., where support for the war has been dwindling.
Needless to say, there are those who are critical of his outrage. They wonder what happened to his indignation following the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, or following the suicide bombings and beheadings of innocent people in Iraq. His response is that one should be sensitive to all crises, but Abu Ghraib happened to affect him "in a special way."
Mixing art and politics is as old as art itself. From the days of the Greek playwrights to the satires of Mark Twain, the boldly political murals of Diego Rivera, the documentaries of Michael Moore or the hysterical comedy of Jon Stewart, brave artists have always put political correctness aside to effect change. Botero insists that his paintings are not political, but rather a social protest against what he calls barbaric behavior. Whatever you call it, you can't deny that Botero's images are a powerful indictment of a shameful chapter in U.S. history. |
