Museo casas colgadas (Spanish abstract art museum of Cuenca)

This work is part of the artist’s series on museums. It touches on the tensions arising from the way culture is currently seen and the means used to disseminate it to society at large. It bears on the controversy between the container and the contents, with a commentary on the trivialisation and commercialisation of art. With the use of irony, all the paintings in the series depict museums that seem to be devoid of any kind of problem on the surface, but closer scrutiny reveals the criticisms Miró levels at these institutions.

In this extraordinarily detailed painting, Antoni Miró depicts a ‘picture postcard’ view of the Spanish Abstract Art Museum of Cuenca, known as the Museo de las Casas Colgadas [‘Hanging Houses’ Museum]. Since 1966, against a flat, blue sky that is also reflected on the windows, the historic building houses a remarkable collection of Spanish Abstract Art, the original core of which is comprised by Fernando Zóbel’s collection. However, in this work Miró pays homage to Julián Pacheco (1937-2000) — a painter far removed from the approach taken by the so-called Cuenca School. This native of Cuenca, together with Rinaldi, Comencini, De Santi, and Miró, formed part of Gruppo Denunzia, founded in Brescia in 1972. Pacheco’s oeuvre is a powerful denunciation of Capitalist consumer society and runs counter to any kind of aesthetic canon.

His Provo Art variant is a singular adaptation of the Dutch art current of the same name and he used it to channel his protest against Neo-Liberal economic drift and the lack of liberties. This protest is manifested through the painting of walls in which graffiti express criticism of the power system. This is somehow ironically suggested in this canvas by: a poster announcing an ‘Arte Provo’ exhibition; the simulated graffiti recalling Abstract Art and the names of Zóbel and Saura; or the flag of Spain’s Second Republic on one side.

The amazing architectural detail and masonry, the faithfully reproduced carpentry of the balconies, and the superb depiction of the iron grilles in the foreground coexist with a system of superimposed meaning that is both implausible and plausible at the same time.

In a way, the coloured cloths hawked to the tourist standing in front of the entrance door refer to the commercial side of art, which also sparks controversy and undermines its legitimacy.

Santiago Pastor Vila