Spanish Colonial culture is at the core of Nancy Friedemann-Sanchez’ practice. She lays

bare a centuries-old history that is neither diluted nor forgotten but is remembered in specific

objects. One is easily entranced by how seamlessly this historical tension is as much a part

of the scenery as is its captured beauty.

The history of the Spaniards influence on Central American culture is now fully ingrained and

Friedemann-Sanchez neither hides nor exaggerates this influence. The large-scale of her

paintings appear as a historical reckoning. Their beauty is undeniable, but closer inspection

reveals these influences have infiltrated and altered the original landscape. The artist deftly

considers these changes with a subtle critique.

As a series, the paintings contain several similarities. The flora and fauna might change and

you soon notice tiny figures with guns throughout these works. These armed men and the

drones that buzz about the paintings allude to the Colombian Conflict, which has been

ongoing since 1964. Subtle, discreet, but very present everywhere, they are a portrayal of a

history that superficially appears as a naturally occurring effect. But the artists’ small

depictions present a very steep infiltration occurring over centuries.

*Friedemann_Dream_Map_and_Cornucopia_India-Ink-on-Tyvek.jpg*

Too, hollow serpents wend their way around the central images of plants. The plants are

exactly the place for the serpents to inhabit. When not directly within the flora, they are on

the borders as well, waiting to strike. For the viewer to see them on the periphery speaks to

the invasive forces of chaos and militarization. This historical contextualization Friedemann-

Sánchez presents to us is an overwhelming presence of forces that exemplify the trauma of

colonization that extended all the way north to Mexico with the Fall of Tenochtitlan around

1521, where the Spanish seized access to the Pacific Ocean, creating new routes to

Asia. It’s exhausting and as a naturally occurring environment, leaving pause to question

what the landscape might otherwise look like if an invasion of centuries past had never

occurred.

Friedemann-Sánchez maintains a flattened, tonal perspective on her paintings to offer a

resolute and unadorned version of this history lesson. The colors don’t pop off the blacktoned

Tyvek panels, they’re anchored as collage pieces. You can see the points up close

where these panels create a dimensional ability to possibly come undone and float away.

Changes aren’t permanent and even the invaders can reconsider is the message I am

receiving. The artist herself says, Tyvek is not paper, its use is “multi-determined.” Speaking

with the artist via email, she notes the resilience of Tyvek’s archival properties. Similar to “the

resilience of someone who migrates and moves around. The material is industrial and

creates a bridge to the past; it makes use of contemporary technologies.” The colonists who

migrated had their own cultural adapting. It was necessary to change from their accustomed

Arabic and European pigments to egg and other local materials to create botanical

illustrations. “In doing so, they transformed a tradition.”

These are paintings of a scale that is much closer to a political wheatpaste; where nothing is

written, but these images of beauty and brutality say far more than any pithy catchphrase.

Nor is it necessary to pontificate upon its rationality or even its existence. Freidemann-

Sanchez takes us right into the middle of the scenario; not what once was, not what might it

have been, but a direct descent into the gullet of present-day.

Viewing this work multiple times is necessary; each visit is a story, a parable, tales of

invasion and evolution. The artists’ portrayal of the history of colonization and its violence is

alive not only in Colombia but in the United States as well, where violence is a state in which

we are far too comfortable. Friedemann-Sánchez presents an understanding that Spanish

Colonial Painting is “a patriarchal and ideological tool of subjugation” and everything that is

stolen has been stolen before. If history has taught us anything, it’s that civilization is mostly

predicated upon the con of changing and protecting history to suit one’s comfort.

Friedemann-Sánchez shows us very directly and very specifically, that every garden has its

walls.

*Detail: Cornucopia No3 India Ink on Tyvek*

*Chola, India Ink on Tyvek, Indigenous Mask, Spanish Comb*

Cornucopia runs November 2 through December 29, 2018

The Drawing Room at Weinberger Fine Art

1903 Wyandotte Street, Kansas City, MO. 6 4108

Nancy Friedemann-Sánchez Explores Colonialism’s Invasion and Evolution

The Speed of Color in Warren Rosser’s Unexpected Consequences

Understanding the Free Fall in Reality at Leedy-Voulkos