Cristina Iglesias. Alicia Chillida

The exhibition, which stands out for its special adaptation to the architectural space that houses it, is the first solo presentation of Cristina Iglesias in a Spanish museum. It consists of some 24 works and includes pieces made expressly for the Palacio de Velázquez.

Cristina Iglesias works with industrial materials such as concrete, iron and glass combined with plant motifs such as bamboo and leaf litter. She often covers the surfaces of her works with patterns of foliage, for example in Untitled (Bamboo Forest)1995-1997, through a mechanism of motif repetition, the artist redefines the gallery space by inviting the viewer to enter a forest. Exploring the idea of a space within a space is one of the recurring themes in her work.

In addition to the author's interest in additional information, the deliberately distracting data divert the perception from the abstract form. Hence the introduction of details -such as the exotic and identifiable flora- that can be defined as narrative. As the artist herself points out, the play of textures cannot be appreciated from a distance, but the closer the viewer gets to the work, the more complete they become. In fact, this interest is not limited only to the conjunction of form and image, but also to image and decoration. "It's like bringing ornamentation into a representational space" (Nancy Princethal).

Untitled (Inclined suspended ceiling) 1997, is a large undulating plane capable of inverting the spatial relationship between the work and the viewer, confronting the latter with an organic and watery volume that acts simultaneously as ceiling and floor, as background and surface.

The fusion of the organic with the industrial, the large format and the varied compositions of her sculptures generate a dialogue, beckoning the viewer to walk around and, at times, through the works. Cristina Iglesias places special emphasis on the problems of form and space, specifically by referring to motifs and textures found in nature, thus inventing her own landscape.

The sculptures are accompanied by large-format silkscreen prints on silk or copper. These works appear to be printed with photographs of actual installations, when in fact they represent miniature models of the artist's sculptural works. Together with the three dimensions, these works create an illusion of spatial depth and further blur the distinction between the natural environment and the built space. At Untitled (Triptych III), in her 1997 work, the artist simultaneously emphasizes the photographic plane and the deeper, more recondite image. The work invites the viewer with its hint of accessibility to enter, but the image is a dead end with no real point of entry.

Seeking Refuge. Barbara Maria Stafford

(...) In a disconcerting way, Iglesias places before us a section of a dark corridor, the translucent part of a canopy, or the arch of a buttress exposed next to a piece of tapestry. Each construction is partial, provisional or broken. And whatever the density of these material objects, it quickly dissolves in the rarefied atmosphere of the immaculate art gallery (...) The cut-out, wide-opening artifacts of Iglesias also demand rigorous viewing conditions. But the banishment of any agglutinating totality and the neutral scenario are specific characteristics of today's urban realism. Shelter has become intermittent, providing a brief respite from intrusive transparency and a momentary respite from exposure to multimedia.

The absence of context, of major interconnection serves to highlight the totemic solitude of the secular sanctuaries of privacy of churches. (...)

This way of highlighting vulnerability is so disturbing precisely because the archaic forms it uses and reconsiders evoke myths of protective and divinely protected structures: the Cretan labyrinth, the Hindu cave, the Irish tumulus, the British dolmen, the French Gothic buttresses and the cornices of the New World. But today none of the physical and psychological conditions that once made its inhabitants feel protected are present. The lucid volumes and carefully devised openings of the legendary architecture are confused and haphazard in Iglesias' projects. The disconcerting effect of the porous shelters, which offer no lasting protection, puts an intolerable strain on the meaning of mental security. We are seduced by the idea of entering their luminous hollows, not to flee from struggle or illness, but to elude a greater, nebulous and undefined anguish that is difficult to pin down. Unlike a magic amulet or an enchanted talisman, these strong, if imperfect, shelters protect us from danger only for an instant. Paradoxically, though, by alluding to serene and coherent ordering systems, they allow us to experience a provisional security. Iglesias seems to suggest that the despair and consolation of postmodern protective layers lie in their utter superficiality. There is no absolute or permanent substructure underpinning human works. Whatever shelter we are given, it will be in the structure itself; not behind, but before our eyes.

(Excerpt from the catalog, ed. The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, New York / FMGB Guggenheim Bilbao Museoa, Bilbao, 1998).