Tiza means chalk in Spanish, and for several years the local Rotary Club in Atlántida has held an event called Atlantiza, where they close off a street and provide chalk and a 3 x 3 meter artist’s space. Some people use the chalk to draw; others mix it with water and paint.
With rain threatening, this year featured a significant number of no-shows. While some of the creations were nice enough, I saw nothing outstanding. I expected at least one convincing 3-D rendering, but saw only unconvincing attempts, like the one in the photo. It might have been fun to participate; I indicated interest but when I got no response decided not to pursue it.
Incidentally, if you’re curious how artists create magnificent 3-D street art illusions, here’s a clue:
Alas, I didn’t think to set the app to save the original photo. But look!
All variations crested in a few minutes using Prisma, free app on iPad/Android.
Here’s one from July in Cuzco, Peru. I thought this was a pretty dramatic shot.
But look what Prisma does for it!
Is painting over?
And on to Mondrian and The Matrix…
All done in a few minutes with the amazing free Prisma app on iPad.
We normally don’t spend a lot of time in art galleries.
Yesterday was an exception.
The current show features five contemporary ceramic artists,
each with a unique “voice,” as the introduction states.
The gallery has a skylight, which casts dramatic shadows.
The setting, an old building with exposed brick and very old beams, is quite lovely. Not a bad place to spend an hour when you have no choice.
And we had no choice. We were waiting for legal papers. Specifically, a power of attorney to sell some property in Mexico.
What’s that got to do with an art gallery?
All the pictures above are from the ground floor of the Mexican Embassy in Montevideo. When we arrived, the receptionist remember who we were, and why we were there. The consul was gracious and welcoming.
Now, I have nothing bad to say about the US Embassy personnel in Montevideo. They were in fact surprisingly accommodating when I recently renewed my passport.
But one can’t help but notice the contrast, even without surrendering all personal possessions and passing through several bomb-proof doors for the privilege of entering.
Construction symbolically started on July 4, 1966. US Independence day. At that time, the diplomatic pouch from Washington, DC, sometimes included fine wires that could be inserted between teeth, in order to apply an electrical charge to the gums. No, it wasn’t for oral hygiene.
Not a pleasant story, but essential reading: Uruguay, 1964 to 1970: Torture—as American as apple pie.