“La Entrega” – Act I

This page is under construction. More info coming soon.

The projectThe routeBlog posts – #norisentrega

“La Entrega”: Dedication, Delivery

In Catalan and Spanish, the title of the project plays with the double meaning of the word entrega (“dedication” or “delivery”), which refers to the idea of consignment and at the same time to the idea of abnegation, a common characteristic of artistic practice and walking.

The first act of my project La Entrega (dedication, delivery) has been awarded one of the two “Art and Nature in Creation 2018” grants of the Centre d’Art la Panera de Lleida, along with the Centre d’Art i Natura de Farrera and the Centro de Arte y Naturaleza de Huesca

The project

In the Pyrenees during the development of the project On the Border, I learned that walking is about surrendering oneself in order to appropriate time and space. This time the purpose is to deliver/surrender this time and space to its addressees.

It is on this postulate that La Entrega (dedication, delivery) is born, a project conceived as a set of actions based on walking, an action understood as creative practice, stimulation of thought and refutation of an alienating, corrupted and contaminated social system. In Catalan and Spanish, the title of the project plays with the double meaning of the word entrega (“dedication” or “delivery”), which refers to the idea of consignment and at the same time to the idea of abnegation, a common characteristic of artistic practice and walking.

The residency project thus began with the delivery of a series of works on paper made on my way to the Centre d’Art i Natura in Farrera from my studio at Piramidón in Barcelona. These papers (in four different sizes between 50×70 and 140×200), folded as maps are usually folded, will be unusual travel notebooks, which can be considered at the same time as logbooks and inner maps. It was thus be about the delivery of the work as well as of the artist and walker, the travel time and the space traveled.

If the production of On the Border was characterized by a very strict technical planning (technique, size, support) within a traditional framework such as plein air painting, in La Entrega (dedication, delivery) there was more space for improvisation, taking advantage of the experience gained and introducing geographical and environmental elements into the creative process.

The route has been carried out between September 25, 2018 and October 15, 2018

Thank you, with love: Kati Riquelme, Andrea Leria, Andrea Barello, Kike Bela and The Good Good, Hugo Vázquez, Joana Cervià and Josep Rubio, Rosa Lendinez, Jordi Martínez-Vilalta, Alicia Calle, Konvent, Miquel Martínez-Vilalta y Anna Motis Berta, Marga Bruna, Javier, María and Nacho Pagonabarraga, Natalia Carminati, Paula Bruna, Marc Badia and his whole family, Claudia Karina Godoy, Carlos Puyol, Lluís Lobet and Farrera’s  Centre d’Art i Natura, the whole community of Farrera, Antoni Jove and Roser Sanjuan,La Panera, Jia-ling Hsu, Pau Cata, Sole Pieras, Ivan Franco Fraga, Aida Mestres, Andreu Dengra Carayol and Centre d’Art Maristany, Sophie Blais, Sarah Goodchild Robb and Can Serrat, CDAN de Huesca, Raül Maigí and Museu de Montserrat, Josep Estruch and Montserrat Rectoret-Blanch, Mireia C. Saladrigues, Fede Montornes, David Armengol, Alberto Gil Cásedas, Pilar Parcerisas, William Truini, Guillermo Pfaff, Josep Maria Cabané, Sandra Sanseverino, Montse Bonvehi, Club Excursionista de Gràcia, Piramidón…

The projectThe routeBlog posts – #norisentrega


In collaboration with:

Centre d'art La Panera
   
Centre d'Art i Natura

With the support of:

The Good Good
   
Konvent
   
Can Serrat

In frontiera

In frontiera – 18 agosto 2017 / 11 september 2017 / 290 km, 25 giorni, 198 cippi di frontiera, 212 opere

ProjectArtworks  – BookRouteCredits

In the summer of 2017, Noris walked the 290 km of the Spanish-French border in the province of Girona, through which the principal routes of the republican exile ran. During the walk, the artist painted a work corresponding to each of the 198 milestones that mark the border. To walk and paint, joining together points along the border, as though balancing on that invisible line that divides in two that which is one, making visible what is invisible and opening up in this way a new stage for memory.

Over these past four years I have been working with the landscape as a stage and as a border, but always from the comfort and distance of the studio. The need for direct experience, to put myself out there and confront the real without any filters, is what led me to undertake “On the Border”.
The project involves walking the entire Spanish-French border in the county of Girona and making a small oil painting at each of the 198 milestones that mark the limit between the two countries. It will not be a visual documentation of the milestones (which have already been photographically catalogued), but rather an emotional recording of the environment, according to whatever the geographical and environmental conditions may be. For this reason, the extreme connection with the environment and the present moment that open-air painting permits is fundamental to allowing the project to acquire a strong experiential value. In this sense, the pieces are not the objective of the journey: the experience itself is the goal, the experience of making and being the border, the introspection of a long walk in nature, the journey and its difficulties. To paint pieces as if they were markers and to walk joining together points along the the border, as though balancing on that invisible line that divides in two what is one, is to make visible the invisible and thus open up a new setting for memory.

+ INFO ABOUT SPANISH-FRENCH BORDER STONES

Muga (“border stone”) is a word of Basque origin used in the Catalan Pyrenees instead of mojón (or hito, in Spanish) and fita (in Catalan). Here is an article written by Josep Estruch for “On the Border” on the etymology of the word.


ProjectArtworks  – BookRouteCredits

(In)rifugi

2013/2017

Valdelallama, León

Valdelallama, León

2015, oil on canvas, 33x41 cm

Valdemorilla, León

Valdemorilla, León

2015, oil on canvas, 33x41 cm

Alanis, Sevilla

Alanis, Sevilla

2015, oil on canvas, 33x41 cm

Alfacam, Granada

Alfacam, Granada

2015, oil on canvas, 27x35 cm

Rivesaltes: The ruins and the shadow II

Rivesaltes: The ruins and the shadow II

Rivesaltes: The ruins and the shadow II - 2013 - 32x40 cm, oil on canvas

“Le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle”

“Le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle”

“Le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle” - 2014 - 22x35 cm, oil on canvas

Rivesaltes: The ruins and the shadow I

Rivesaltes: The ruins and the shadow I

Rivesaltes: The ruins and the shadow I- 2013 - 100x130 cm, oil on canvas

Border crossings of exile: Coll de Malrem

Border crossings of exile: Coll de Malrem

Coll de Malrem - 2014 - 90x146 cm, Oil on canvas

¿Qué hicieron de vos, hijo que no acabó de vivir? ¿acabó de morir? ((Un)refugees IV)

¿Qué hicieron de vos, hijo que no acabó de vivir? ¿acabó de morir? ((Un)refugees IV)

“What did they do to you, son, who did not quite live? did not quite die? ((Un)refugees IV) - 2014 - 130x97 cm, oil on canvas

(Un)refugees II

(Un)refugees II

(Un)refugees II - 2014 - Oil on canvas, 146 x 146 cm

(Un)refugees III

(Un)refugees III

(Un)refugees III - 2014 - 170x120 cm, Oil on canvas

(Un)refugees I

(Un)refugees I

(Un)refugees I - 2014 - 130x89 cm, oil on canvas

Rivesaltes (Ruins IV)

Rivesaltes (Ruins IV)

2013, oil on canvas, 40x30cm

Rivesaltes (Ruins I)

Rivesaltes (Ruins I)

Rivesaltes (Ruins I) - 2013 - 19x33 cm - Oil and bitumen of Judea on canvas

(Un)refuge

(Un)refuge

2016, oil on canvas, 60x81 cm

Mediterranean beach

Mediterranean beach

2016, oil on canvas, 33x60 cm


European tumulus

European tumulus

2016, oil on canvas, 30x30 cm

Child - (Un)refugees VII

Child - (Un)refugees VII

2015, oil on canvas, 46x36 cm

Line - (Un)refugees VI

Line - (Un)refugees VI

2015, oil on canvas, 38x61 cm

(Un)refugees IX

(Un)refugees IX

2016, oil on canvas, 100x81


(Un)refugees VIII

(Un)refugees VIII

2015/2016, oil on canvas, 100x100


Camp

Camp

Camp - 2015, oil on canvas, 100x100

Mound with Moun

Mound with Moun

2016, oil on canvas, 30x30 cm

Mounds

Mounds

2016, oil on canvas, 24 x 33 cm

Mounds (Nocturne)

Mounds (Nocturne)

2016, oil on canvas, 24 x 33 cm

The ruins and the shadow IV

The ruins and the shadow IV

2016, oil on canvas, 65x92 cm

Rivesaltes (camp II)

Rivesaltes (camp II)

2016, oil on canvas, 70x100 cm

Alfacar, Granada

Alfacar, Granada

2017, oil on canvas, 100x130 cm

Maremortum II

Maremortum II

2016, oil on canvas, 163x163 cm


Maremortum I

Maremortum I

2016, oil on canvas, 100x100 cm


Un paio d’anni fa, durante una visita al Museo dell’esilio de La Junquera, al confine tra la Spagna e la Francia, scoprì l’esistenza del Campo Joffre di Rivesaltes, un ex campo di concentramento nel sud della Francia che è stato aperto negli anni trenta del secolo scorso per alloggiare gli esiliati spagnoli durante la guerra civile. Il campo è rimasto aperto per quasi 70 anni, essendo utilizzato anche come un campo di concentramento durante l’occupazione nazista e successivamente come campo di internamento per harki algerini. La storia di Rivesaltes è una storia drammatica che attraversa tutto il ventesimo secolo e per questo si presta ad essere utilizzata come guida per una indagine sui tragici eventi della storia europea contemporanea. Rivesaltes non è solo un luogo geografico, è anche – soprattutto ora che le rovine hanno lasciato spazio alla memoria – uno spazio emozionale collettivo.

(In)rifugi nasce dalle macerie del campo, carnefice e testimone dell’orrore delle deportazioni naziste e del dramma dell’esilio di migliaia di esseri umani. La memoria di Rivesaltes è la realtà attuale dei campi che per tutto il mondo e alle porte d’Europa ospitano milioni di vite, milioni di rifugiati, milioni di drammi: le rovine del campo sono il passato che ci unisce al presente e all’attuale politica migratoria dell’Unione europea.

Nonostante ciò, questo non è un lavoro su Rivesaltes; non vuole essere una ricerca storica: qui la storia è piuttosto la guida per un viaggio nella memoria emotiva collettiva, cercando l’universalità dell’esperienza individuale, al di là d’epoche, confini o nazionalità.

(In)rifugi sono i luoghi dello sradicamento fisico ed emozionale, in cui il bisogno di protezione è accompagnato dalla sua negazione e dove la soluzione alla tragedia è solo il male minore. I campi sono (in)rifugi e certificano la perdita di dignità e di identità del rifugiato, fratturato, separato dalle sue radici, dalla sua terra, dal suo passato. Luoghi in cui la sepoltura spesso succede all’esilio. Fosse comuni, buche, tumuli, scatole, (in)rifugi simbolici, alternative ciniche alle ciniche politiche europee. E, infine, l’(in)rifugiato come condizione intrinseca dell’esiliato, dove l’impossibilità di tornare a casa è l’impossibilità assoluta e definitiva di crearne un’altra, perché lo sradicamento è un trauma irreversibile che colpisce i fondamenti stessi dell’essere umano.

Marco Noris (2016)

Non era il sole

By Federic Montornés

Sometimes, it is sufficient to add something to an image so that what we perceive as a landscape is converted into a scenario and not in the portrayal of the illusion of the observer. Therefore, to speak about a scale in relation to a landscape would be like talking about the distance that separates the viewer from the image. And to speak about the distance between the viewer and what they see would be to speak about intrusion in a never-ending story.

Because there is no end to painting. And yet, it invites you to take a closer look.

Marco Noris says that for him, painting – particularly oil painting – is the language that best enables him to engage in emotions without overlooking intellect. He also says that it is the language that, thanks to its traditional visual codes, lets him pry open the conscience of the viewer, as a pivot between omen and mourning. A temporary distortion, he goes on to say, with post-apocalyptic scenes, ruins from the past, hints of future disasters and memories of tragedies that merge together and intertwine forming a kind of genealogy of the catastrophe. A study of the future of the human race which, far from nostalgic grieving celebrations, it speaks about the personal and collective journey of acceptance and atonement, in the centre of which is always the individual who is not in charge of their destiny: the viewer. Alone. Facing their mortality.

Or as Noris calls it: the triumph of defeat.

Focusing on the desire to insinuate rather than on the desire to describe what, in the eyes of the observer, opens up as an exercise of introspection based on arguments as broad, as meaningful and as reflexive as memory, oblivion, absence and expectation, Noris’ work is a type of balsam which, invoking a more than necessary suspension of time, allows anything to happen because in this work everything is eternal, extended, expected and abandoned. It is a decision which, placing the observer on the margin of the bustle and noise, permits a connection to be made with the part of the individual that wonders what is behind the narrow reality that we can see as he knows that this is what is blinding us from what we really need to explore.

Beyond the veil covering our eyes, we can find out why we are all here.

The exhibition “No era el sol” [It wasn’t the sun] shows numerous pieces of Noris’ work developed around the disappearance in the mass graves, the cruelty of borders, the civil war, and exile and uprooting; it also presents environmental matters – used as metaphors for both our material and moral ruins – and interpretations at a more introspective level, all of which are employed as a first and unavoidable step towards accepting denial and shadow to deal with the escalation in technology, excessive consumption and entertainment that obstruct our vision. It is a type of conceptual manhole conceived not so much as to end with the human species but to show that following what appeared to be the sun did not come a night of rest but the desire to find a light beyond impatience. In other words, beyond ourselves. This is why, rather than a journey to the exterior and through territories of which everything is constructed, Noris proposes a journey into the interior of each individual along the path of his brushstrokes in oil, the surface of canvases, layers and layers of discarded cardboard, the dimensions of a painting and the steps that we should follow to tear away from this wretched world, to recover the essence of the human being, become aware of our identity, revive our values and see it all from the distance that allows us to understand painting, his painting, also as a matter of scale.

Frederic Montornés
February 2017

On the Border: calendar

On the border – August 18, 2017 / September 11, 2017 / 290 km, 25 days, 198 border stones, 212 artworks

ProjectArtworks  – BookRouteCredits

The route of the project and its border stones: https://goo.gl/GGJB9W

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En frontera – Día 10 – 27 agosto 2017 – Descanso en refugio Ulldeter

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En frontera – Día 18 – 4 septiembre 2017 – Descanso en La Vajol

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ProjectArtworks  – BookRouteCredits

Il trionfo della disfatta

Aground

Aground

2016, oil on canvas, 60x92 cm

Zoom out

Zoom out

2016, oil on canvas 30x30 cm

Zoom in

Zoom in

2016, oil on canvas 30x30 cm

Escape XIII

Escape XIII

2016, oil on canvas, 33x24 cm

Prosthesis

Prosthesis

2017, oil on canvas, 50x40 cm

With smoke

With smoke

2016, oil on canvas, 100x100 cm

Crack

Crack

2017, oil on canvas, 150x120 cm

Ukrainian head

Ukrainian head

2014 - 60x81 cm - Oil on canvas

Airplane crash (Superga, 1949)

Airplane crash (Superga, 1949)

2013 - 114x146 cm - Oil on canvas

Red car

Red car

2013 - 60x80 cm - Oil on canvas

Pig

Pig

2015 - 19x24 cm - Oil on canvas

Glories (Glòries)

Glories (Glòries)

2016, oil on canvas - 41x33cm

Fallen and believers

Fallen and believers

2015, oil on canvas, 38x61cm

Ruins (The day after)

Ruins (The day after)

2016, Oil on board - 29,5 x 21,5 cm

The Hole

The Hole

The hole - 2014, oil on canvas, 15x20 cm

Escapes V-VI-VII

Escapes V-VI-VII

2015 - Oil on canvas, 18,5x24 cm x 3 (triptych)

Ester Quintana /

Ester Quintana /

2014 - 100x100 cm - Oil on canvas - www.ojocontuojo.org

Portrait of a victim of machismo

Portrait of a victim of machismo

2015 - 41x33 cm - Oil on canvas

Le déjeuner sur l’herbe I

Le déjeuner sur l’herbe I

2015 - 16x22 cm - Oil on canvas

Car Crash

Car Crash

2015, oil on canvas, 97x130 cm

Marine with flesh

Marine with flesh

2016 oil on canvas, 24x33 cm

Untitled and imageless

Untitled and imageless

2016, oil on canvas, 24x33 cm

Ali

Ali

2016, oil on canvas, 50x40 cm

The triumph of defeat

The triumph of defeat

2016/2017, oil on canvas, 100x100 cm

She

She

2017, oil on canvas, 100x130 cm

Alfacar, Granada

Alfacar, Granada

2017, oil on canvas, 100x130 cm

Allá donde las playas rotas nos muestran el cielo


Allá donde las playas rotas nos muestran el cielo


2017, oil on canvas, 145x180 cm

El refugi abandonat de Lúa

El refugi abandonat de Lúa

2016, oil on canvas, 81x130 cm

Like a movie

Like a movie

2016, oil on canvas, 80x100 cm

Marine

Marine

2016, oil on canvas, 89x146 cm

Quality check

Quality check

2017, oil on canvas, 117x90 cm

Maremortum I

Maremortum I

2016, oil on canvas, 100x100 cm


La negazione dell’oscuro e della mortalità è una caratteristica del nostro tempo. Circondata da rovine e incapace di affrontare la sua paura, attraverso una escalation tecnologica l’umanità ultraliberalista cerca rifugio nel consumismo e nel facile intrattenimento. Per questo motivo ho deciso di esplorare, attraverso la pittura, i territori scomodi e tragici della negazione e dell’ombra. Fosse comuni, stupratori picchiati, incidenti, rifiuti e discariche; vittime della polizia, effigi distrutte, profughi e mutanti… il mio lavoro è una raccolta di rovine materiali e morali nel quale si può collocare (In)rifugi, un progetto su esilio e sradicamento, memoria e oblio, nato sui detriti di un ex campo di concentramento francese.

Fino a poco tempo fa, ero convinto che la rovina fosse il concetto principale attorno al quale ho costruito il mio immaginario. È stato più recentemente che mi sono reso conto che in realtà la rovina non è il fine ultimo della mia ricerca, ma piuttosto un mezzo per illuminare il sentiero oscuro della sconfitta. Ho lavorato quindi sulla sconfitta nei suoi due aspetti principali. Da un lato, quello tragico: la sconfitta storica (quella di Benjamin, Agamben e Pasolini), e con essa quella politica, morale e ambientale. Dall’altro, nella sfera individuale, possiamo includere anche la sconfitta intima, intrinseca all’esistenza umana. La sconfitta dell’individuo e la sua concatenazione di rese ci conduce alla pendice sublime di questo cammino, dove troviamo la celebrazione dello sconfitto, condizione che richiede la forza dei coraggiosi. Infine, in cima a questo percorso, c’è la sconfitta dell’ego, lo stadio finale di questo cammino e forse l’inizio di uno nuovo.

Al di là di alcune incursioni nel mondo della fotografia, collage, installazione e video, la mia pratica è principalmente sviluppata nel campo della pittura. Trovo il linguaggio pittorico un modo ideale per gestire l’aspetto emozionale senza trascurare quello intellettuale. I codici visuali tradizionali –quasi archetipici– della pittura ad olio mi permettono di penetrare nella coscienza dello spettatore, facendola muovere tra il presagio e il lutto. In questa distorsione temporale, scenari post-apocalittici, rovine del passato, scorci di futuri disastri e ricordi di tragedie passate, si confondono e si intrecciano formando così una genealogia ciclica del disastro al centro del quale si trova infine lo spettatore, solo di fronte alla sua mortalità.

Marco Noris, gennaio 2017


See also Frederic Montornes‘ text It wasn’t the sun on the homonymous exhibition.