Bosco Sodi in conversation with Francesca Marcaccio Hitzeman

Bosco Sodi is known for his bold, richly textured works that burst with colour and materiality. The artist’s paintings and sculptural objects appear to be carved from the earth itself. The artist’s sculptural process reflects traditions of his Mexican heritage; his work is informed by the wabi-sabi worldview of aesthetics where beauty is expressed in imperfection, transience and simplicity. Sodi has described his creative process as “controlled chaos” that makes “something completely unrepeatable and unique.” In his most celebrated body of work, the artist mixes raw pigment with sawdust, wood, pulp, and natural fibers to create the dense surfaces of monochrome paintings. At Casa Wabi, his studio in Oaxaca, he uses raw earth clay to create kiln-fired spheres, cubes and bricks. These projects range in scale from architectural installations to earthworks.

In the interview below, the artist reflects on his relationship to Oaxacan and wabi-sabi aesthetics, as well as his engagement with artistic traditions ranging from minimalism to arte povera to land art.

Francesca Marcaccio Hitzeman: Could you tell us about your background and how you got into the arts? When and why did you start to make art?

Bosco Sodi: I began making art when I was a kid. I was born and raised in Mexico City. I come from a family that was very involved with culture in general. My father is a chemical engineer, and my mother is a philosopher. They have always been interested in art, music, and books. When I was young, I was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity and dyslexia. My mother put me in art classes as a kind of therapy to keep calm. That’s when I began to do art twice a week. To make art is something that makes me feel calm and connects me with my own.

FMH: In your current exhibition, Ergo Sum, at the Centro de arte Contemporáneo in Málaga, Spain, the black monochrome paintings and the gold sculptures demonstrate a great power as individual units and when they are confronted with the architecture of the space are themselves a test of aesthetic power. Could you guide us through this body of work and tell us more how your practice changed and evolved over the years?

BS: The paintings I made for the exhibition, Ergo Sum, at CAC Málaga are a series of paintings about the nothingness of emptiness. They use the blackest black pigment. This is the pigment that absorbs the most light. The concept is to create a window for emptiness. I wanted to give this sense of a cave with these black holes inside. I am very interested in how the space reacts with the works and how different types of works interact with each other. In this case I wanted to see the tension between these black paintings and the golden rocks. It is very interesting to see what kind of dialogue develops when you put these two different types of work together. My work has been evolving throughout the years. It goes in different directions whether it is through my paintings, ceramics or clay sculptures. It’s a continuous change. The work is less about a linear evolution and more the ongoing search within the materials through my process.

FMH: You are one of the protagonists of an increasingly minimalistic and dematerialized aesthetics, in which action and experience play an essential role. How do you see these elements of minimalism and dematerialization as potential strategies in art practice today?

BS: I see myself as a pre-industrial minimalist. I am not looking for perfection in the outcome of the piece. Rather, I am looking for imperfection. The imperfections make each work unique. The minimalists were looking for perfection so the work can be repeated as many times as possible. In my case it is the contrary, my work is minimal in the sense of that paintings are monochromatic or  the sculptures are very specific object. However, they are made by hand. The works are made by hand and show the accepting of the accident, accepting the failures, accepting the essence of the materials. This is shown through my use of organic materials, such as the raw pigment and saw dust in my paintings, clay in my sculptures or the volcanic rock in my ceramics. Each material has their own flaws and peculiarities that makes the artwork distinct. During this time, I think it is very important to make work that talks about loss of control, unpredictability, the passing of time and imperfection. This type of art reveals the underpinnings of nature and life. It provides us with the tools to better understand the universe, our humanity and our relationship within the world.

FMH: A Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains, your solo show at Axel Vervoordt Gallery was your first solo show in Hong Kong and Greater China at large and the first exhibition I was able to see when art galleries re-opened in town. In December 2019, you’ve spent two weeks in Hong Kong to create new works specifically exploring the depths and boundaries of the color turquoise. During your stay, the city’s geography, landscape, energy had an influence on your practice and creation process. What was of the local life that added a unique depth and dimension to your work? How would you describe that experience in relation to your production?

BS: The work shown in Hong Kong was not mainly influenced by my stay there. I love Hong Kong and I loved going for walks and hikes through mountains and through nature. The works themselves show more of the chemical and organic properties of the local climate and materials.  Each painting shows the essence of the humidity of the climate, the locally sourced materials, and the quality of the water. These factors lead to the creation of completely unique works with outcomes tied to the place.
As the title of the exhibition alludes to, I was influenced by the painting titled, A Thousand Li of River and Mountains by Wang Ximeng. The turquoise in the paintings inspired me to use this color. I always wanted to use turquoise color for a project. I have been in love with this color and wanted to use this color, as it is the favorite color of my mother. My fourteen-day stay was not a direct influence on the works. The series was much more impacted by the elements and how they all worked together to create the final outcome of the painting.

FMH: At your place in Oaxaca, Mexico, you make large geometric sculptures from clay and you fire them in a makeshift kiln on the beach. The results are cuboids in different formats or spheroids recalling some sort of ancestral architecture and primitive crafty gesture. There is a sense of invincible connection with the earth in those sculptures. What is your relation with the traditions of your Mexican heritage and how much of it influences your creative process?

BS: Of course, I was born and raised in Mexico and I have been influenced a lot by my country. This influence is not a very conscious influence. In Mexico there is a long ongoing historical relationship between use of clay and craftsmanship. So of course I am influenced by the Mexican tradition. However, I believe clay is a part of all cultures, not just Mexican culture. It has accompanied humans throughout their evolution. It was one of the first materials humans began to refine and utilize. Working with clay reminds me of this meaningful history and which is one of the reasons I love to work with the material. Also, the process of working with clay involves the four elements. It brings humanity back to nature. Clay works become this very powerful symbol of the relationship between humanity and nature.

FMH: I’m interested in how some of your projects are temporary such as Atlantes, which is a monumental site-specific installation comprising over 100.000 clay bricks, along Mexico’s oaxacan coast. This work is an exploration into the notion of time as expressed through the object. In fact, over time, the sculpture will weather and evolve as a result of its coastal setting displaying signs of erosion and plant growth. How do you approach the material permanence or ephemerality of a work?

BS: I approach the material permanence or ephemerality by thinking about how the work will evolve with time. The concept of the work, Atlantes, is how the work will change over the course of time. In the present, they are cubic geometric figures but in decades and hundreds of years in the future, the sculptures will become rounder. Nature will appropriate the works and assimilate them within the place. Softening and eroding the sharp edges.  I enjoy the concept of temporality. We are here as humans for a short period of time. Everything is changing. I believe the more the works change, the more beautiful they become. At a certain point the works are out of our reach. Atlantes and other installations of mine, at certain points they are no longer in my control. They are now controlled by nature. The installations are at the mercy of the elements. Making each installation always unique.

FMH: Imperfection is the basic principle of Wabi-Sabi, the Japanese philosophy of accepting your imperfections and making the most of life. “Wabi” is said to be defined as “rustic simplicity” or “understated elegance” with a focus on a less-is-more mentality. “Sabi” is translated to “taking pleasure in the imperfect.” Authenticity is a big part of Wabi-sabi so cracks and imperfections are cherished for symbolizing the passage of time and loving use. The relentless pursuit of perfection — in possessions, relationships, achievements — often leads to stress, anxiety, depression and hasty judgement. In which degree wabi-sabi influences your work contrasting it with Western ideals of beauty?

BS: Wabi-Sabi is the main part of the work. l believe in embracing the accident, embracing no control. Letting the process of the organic materials take their course. Letting the passing of time shape each painting and each sculpture. It is what makes each work unique. As humans, we have to accept the accident and accept that we do not have control in many aspects of our lives. Pursuit of perfection brings stress, anxiety, depression, and sadness because it is impossible to achieve perfection. Perfection does not exist. We have to learn to come to terms with aging, death, and accidents. I believe this is what makes life an interesting and beautiful journey.

FMH: Vital to Arte Povera in general was the notion of unmediated, phenomenological experience as the crux of the encounter with art, no longer beholden to the structures of institutional propriety or temporality. Unconventional materials appealed as much to the senses as to aesthetic sensibility, bound up with a widespread dematerialization of art practices in the 1960s (amidst an increasingly tense political atmosphere). Moving between painting, sculpture, installations you capture a kind of beauty that’s similar to Arte Povera’s artists in some ways, but it is also very rooted in materiality. It’s very much in the here and now, it’s present in every sense. Do you view it in that way or do you think of it differently?

BS: I completely agree. What interests me the most is the materiality of my work. This is why I choose to make these dense paintings, with thick stretchers. I want all of my works to act  as objects  that emanate their own energy. I love Arte Povera. It was a very strong movement for its time. I believe my work is something different. I am looking for the object and the way it shapes the space and its surroundings. I am interested in the works’ interaction with the spectator and other nearby objects.

FMH: It came to my attention that Antoni Tàpies is one of the artists you are influenced by in your work. His conception of art is impregnated with an Oriental non dualistic aesthetics. I argue that, among them, the Chinese aesthetics of qi 氣 (energy or force) plays the most pivotal role and leaves an indelible imprint in his corpus. Tàpies’ encounter with this Asian thinking probably came through the translated writings of Laozi and Confucius, among others. However, instead of the term qi ,Tàpies was prone to using the words “energy” or “spirit” to designate this element, which he understood as a cosmological principle and force. In this respect, art-making is related to the performance of this potency, which flows throughout the entire creative process beginning in the artist and ending in the audience, and that a work of art as a whole essentially involves the artist, the medium, the artwork, and the spectator. What are your thoughts on this matter and in relation to your work?

BS: I had an opportunity to have a coffee with Tàpies at his house in Barcelona. We talked a little bit about the oriental and eastern philosophy that he was interested in. Something funny as far as I remember  is that while he was influenced by eastern culture, he said he had visited Asia only a few times. It was mostly in reading that he obtained his understanding. I agree with Tàpies’ thoughts on art and energy. I think a work of art involves technique, the medium, the artist, and the final object itself. However, I believe what is the most important is the spectator and the conclusion and the feelings they have from viewing the work. I am interested in how the work uses a type of force to initiate certain feelings within the spectator. I believe in the energy of the material. It’s something very important. As humans in the bottom of our heart, we have a deeply profound connection to the material. We love objects and paintings that have energy. I agree with Tàpies that each work has its own energy and its own spirit.

FMH: It seems to me that there is a lot of experimenting with the materic in your artworks in a constant flux of energy exchange between the human act of making and the materials. The viewer is invited to simultaneously read the work as object/sculpture/painting and as a process, and that demands a sustained scrutiny that is really exceptional in our time, especially for people who are used to screens and fast turnover. Would you say that is partly what you are after?

BS: Yes. I am completely after this understanding and exchange.  I am focused on the process. I love the challenge of the materials, to touch the materials. I enjoy  the warming up of a work (as I call it); the assembling of the stretcher, stretching the canvas, the mixing of the pigment, to touch it. The energy exchange between the artist, the work, and the spectator is very prominent. The sustained scrutiny of the viewer is really the final goal of the work. If the artwork allows the viewer to take a minute to gain insight into process, time and the impermanence of our lives then it’s a large success. We are here just for a minute, and life goes by very fast. If the spectator gains this understanding from my work, then it is a very large success.