PROJETO NEXUS *
Maria Villares
2001 – 2003
Memory interprets past experiences or supposed recollections. Jose Luis Borges
When establishing this mode of presentation for the Nexus project, I wished to clearly demonstrate the process and, on the other hand, avoid a discursive mode in which the narrative was delivered in more elaborate, highbrow language. I was concerned with conveying my real interest, and that which in fact occurred. In an informal interview I gave to artist and psychotherapist Margot Delgado, we discussed aspects of my work that both of us find important.
Margot Delgado: How did you come up with the idea for this work, Maria?
Maria Villares: As I stepped outside very early in the morning on a day of April 2001, I spotted various dewy cobwebs, of different sizes and shapes, hanging from trees and shrubs. This sighting deeply touched me. Ideas began to spring up as I related dew drops to tear drops, to liquids secreted as result of released human tension, as Louise Bourgeois once put it. For a while I observed the spiders as they spun their webs, over and over, with enviable dexterity. After that I sought to learn about the life and the activities of arachnids, and only then I turned to start working with transparent plastic thread.
MD: Were you familiar with this type of thread?
MV: Yes, I had seen it used in utilitarian objects. I liked what I saw, the combination of glitter, transparency and volume.
MD: So you already had an empathy for the material, and the idea for the work was not dissociated from your selection of types of thread. In fact, they complemented one another, right?
MV: Yes, that’s right. Later I turned to research other threads. I created smaller pieces with very fine and light, irregularly gauged threads, and also with nylon fishing lines the use of which required an exquisite and careful work. The nearly absence of actual matter made it seem as if I were knitting with invisible yarn. It was quite a challenge!
MD: Tell me about your work process.
MV: Usually I don’t make preliminary studies or pre-establish rigid plans. I work in a carefree manner, on the basis of only a few sketches. In this project I concentrated on the actual knitting/weaving process, unconcerned with the final result. I simply knitted away, “spinning” my webs in a continuous, repetitive action for hours and hours. Occasionally
I felt that time had halted and that my intense involvement with the work allowed my personal recollections and affections to emerge. It was the creative act turned into art creation… As the result of my knitting became bulkier, as it piled up on my lap after a few hours of knitting, I had a sensation that a large amount of liquid had materialized through the busy movements of my fingers and the contact with my body. The emotion I felt was absolutely overwhelming, and I remembered the time when I knitted, many years ago, just to keep my hands busy. In those days I created utilitarian pieces, I worked in mechanical manner.
MD: Can you describe the difference between the way knitting makes you feel now and how it made you feel when you knitted formerly, as a pastime?
MV: Nowadays the act of kitting has an overwhelming effect on me; it summons up my soul, it is a highly pleasant activity, a poetical toil carried out for a purpose. Sure, the mechanical act is compelling, but the project offers a much broader and enticing perspective, it is s truly driving force.
MD: So, you had a project, and the perspective of carrying it out is what imbued you with patience and perseverance. You had set a serious goal for yourself. Weaving these pieces did not involve merely taking thread and needles, sitting down and knitting away, having in mind only a vague notion of what you wanted.
What you do is hard work, it burdens the body, it is tiresome, and yet you carry it on because of the greater meaning it has for you. Most certainly, if it were just a run-of-the-mill knitting job you would have set it aside already.
All things considered, I guess you hold a greater likeness to Penelope than to Ariadne, because you actually have a weaving project. This brings to mind the quote, “For those who carry weight, the burden is the wing.” ** And what about the weaving, did it turn out any drawings?
MV: The drawings materialized when the production of modules was well under way. At some point I felt compelled to register the superimposition of threads, knots, undulating and continuous lines. I enjoyed switching between techniques, as I tried alternating between both media. I used different types of ink, quills and pens; I even made some bamboo pens myself. What is more, the slight differences in my selection of lines turned these variations particularly interesting. Just like knitting, drawing also requires repetitive movements, diligent attention and peacefulness – it could be viewed as an instance of prayer. Fastened on the woven threads, my gaze captured the meanders of yarn that my hand rendered in ink on paper and as scraped ink on paper. I believe that once the knitted/woven modules were assembled, they acquired a character of spatial drawing. Knitting and drawing complemented one another, they mirrored one another.
MD: What gives you the clue that the work is coming to completion?
MV: I believe my work has matured. Nowadays I reject uninteresting projects and ideas. I feel that my production has acquired status; it is quite significant in view of what I meant to create. As regards this series, a few insights gave me clues that it was coming to an end. It is possible that other series will emerge further down the line, still within the Nexus project. I particularly like the following statement by [Brazilian artist] Flávio Shiró: “A work is finished when the soul is satisfied.”
