Excerpts from Critical Essays

‘These symbols imply vast universes of experience1 knowledge and emotion. They in­clude stars, hearts and hourglass like X's as well as schematic versions of the buildings, ships and figures found in transitional works from the late 20's.’

Roberta Smith

Torres-García created a quotidian classicism. His search for an exactly shaped naïveté paralleled the work of Gertrude Stein, Satie, and Miró. The use of prev iously non-art craft techniques for high-art ends--collage, welded metal, or, in Torres-García’s case, carpentry--puts us on notice that art is literally beginning again. The drama is in the exquisiteness of the sensibility that attends to this rough-hewn stuff--as fine, if not finer, than that of a master jeweler concocting Fabergé eggs. What keeps Torres-García’s work from preciosity , from a facile charm, is the pressure that he imposes on blunt fact.

Jed Perl

‘Torres-Garcia also had provocative connections with North American modernists. He exhibited with Stuart Davis at the Whitney Studio Club in the 1920s, while reproductions of his works in magazines and a marvelous painting in the Gallatin Collection seem to have resonated with both Gottlieb and David Smith early in their mature careers.

What remains constant throughout Torres-Garcia's work is its assertion of an underlying geometric order and its lexicon of pared-down images. ranging from the descriptive to the symbolic, distilled equally from percep­tions of everyday urban life-boats, trains, buildings, cars-and from abstract concepts such as time and love. What remains constant too is a mood of restraint, of reduction to essentials, manifest in a subdued, earthy palette, a firm but slightly scratchy line and that omnipresent forthright grid.’

Karen Wilken

‘At various points, Piet Mondrian, Theo Van Doesburg and Jean Helion were involved with Cercle et Carré. The group published a journal and organized an exhibition of work by more than one hundred artists. As all this was going on, Torres-García wrote a telling letter to Van Doesburg: “You know that I can’t stick strictly to a completely abstract, pure art.” This is what makes Torres- García so necessary and elusive. He is full of contradictions that never get resolved, reminding us that trying to make everything all fit together is contrary to life. Ultimately, Torres-Garcia proves the inadequacy of Pérez-Oramas’ term, “compression.” Yes, he brought together the so-called primitive and the modern, but that hardly covers everything else he brought into play: architecture, children’s toys, numerology, religious symbols, rough and weathered surfaces, illusionism, geometry, mechanical forms, Symbolism, Futurism and Cubism. He was a tireless and eloquent writer, but most of his work has not been translated.’

John Yau

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‘Few artists can claim to have captured a revolution in thinking in a single image, but Joaquín Torres-García did. In 1934, he returned to his birthplace, Montevideo, Uruguay, after more than four decades abroad. He was 60 years old and determined to bring his hard-won knowledge of modernist art, learned in places considered authentic sources, like Paris and New York, back home.
But there it would be modernism with a difference. He gave it a name: “La Escuela del Sur,” “The School of the South.” He designed for it a now-famous logo: the silhouette of the South American continent turned upside down and placed above the Tropic of Cancer, where North America was on conventional maps. And he explained the meaning: The South, as a font of creative energy and fresh ideas, was the new North, or at least its equal.’

Holland Cotter

The key discovery for the new pictorial language that Torres-García calls “constructive universalism” is that of a repertoire of forms that look like pictograms. The artist explains this development in his autobiography, Historia de mi vida, written in the third person: “His art is in a moment of transition—a struggle between nature and abstraction—and it will still take a long year to solve this problem, the difficulty is that if he composes a painting with only abstract, geometric or irregular forms, what will he do with something that he would also like to express and that has to do with concrete things? Trying to unite both (done a hundred times) nature loses, and also lost is the plastic construction, but one day he thinks: the abstract must correspond, as an idea of something, something likewise abstract. What can this be? It will have to be, to be graphically figurative, either the written name of the thing, or a schematic image that is as seemingly further from the real as possible: such as a sign, and he does this: he puts, in a sectional construction, like a wall of stones, in each segment, the design of a thing, and that's it! It must be that. [...] Yes, that's it, but only the beginning of the road, as will be seen later. [...] By pure chance ... (or, if not, emerging from the depths of him) not by chance, then, but by unconsciously obeying an internal vision, he placed, in that first work and in the respective sections, a House (like those that children draw), a Boat, an Anchor, the letter B, a Man, a Fish .... And he showed that painting, as he used to and among others, to a friend of Cueto’s, a well-known writer, Germán List Arzubide. He stood for a long time looking at it without saying a word. And said at last: I see here something very big: the World...”
The artistic problem that Torres-García poses seems to consist, as we have seen, in the desire to find a kind of synthesis between representation and abstraction. The solution is presented when he appeals to the use of signs. Like the mimetic image, the sign has a referent—an entity external to itself—to which it refers and, in some way, represents. But, like purely plastic elements, such as the lines of a Mondrian painting, the sign does not perceptually resemble that entity, nor anything that is external to it, and in that sense, it can be said to be autonomous, abstract. It is therefore representative on one hand, and abstract, in the other. How much does this formula clarify? Above I mentioned the similarity between Torres-García's Constructivist art and Analytic Cubism, a pictorial language that also posed the problem of the synthesis between the mimetic function and the abstract function of pictorial forms.

Tomas Llorens