Adiós al rombo [Farewell to the Rhombus] is Teresa Lanceta’s third exhibition devoted to the weaves and wisdom of the women weavers of the Middle Atlas, a joint project that began in 1985. The show features woven fabrics, paintings, drawings, a text and several videos compiled from her interviews with both women of that region and relatives who migrated to Spain. In addition to Lanceta’s work, the exhibition includes documentation on folk art from regions bordering the Sahara Desert, as well as on the work of young artists interested in traditional craftsmanship and migration. There are also two collaborative creations: a digital map of patterns and objects of the Middle Atlas, created by Nicolas Malevé, and an interactive audio - visual installation based on a binary code, produced by Lot Amorós.
In the mid-1960s, when painting and conceptual art dominated both the Spanish and Catalan art scenes, Lanceta decided to embrace weaving as a medium of artistic expression, stretching the limits of comprehension of what can be considered art. Moreover, she did not approach it from the perspective of critical analysis but started with the formal elements, with the original, inherent aspects of woven fabric: its ligaments, materials, traditions and techniques.
In the mid-1980s, Lanceta lived among weaving communities of the Middle Atlas. Through their textile traditions–a knowledge passed down from generation to generation– she discovered a collective art that has helped people live, communicate and endure: an art marked by ancient habits, motifs and rules that, when mastered, allow expressive freedom and creativity, recounting the passage of time and incorporating histories and events. Like the overlapping threads of warp and weft, “doing” and “living” share the same time. In these textile traditions of nomadic peoples, the weaves transcend their decorative purpose and symbolic function: they are part of a way of life and, as such, they convey a shared, everyday knowledge, deploying their ornamental and artistic power.
Textile art is therefore an art linked to life itself. Yet this very fact has been one of the theoretical pretexts for labelling decorative folk art as a mere “craft”, as opposed to the “pure” arts of painting and sculpture. In the latter disciplines, the artist’s idea takes precedence over technical realisation and, unlike other forms of art, they have no ritually, socially or culturally symbolic use. However, it is no longer possible to make this distinction, since folk arts also originate with an idea and are materialised by means of a technique. Lanceta has proved that weaving is an artistic tool at the service of the human soul. And, in doing so, she has shown that the so-called ornamental arts are in fact “pure” art, for they entail formal innovations that express innovative ideas. In the Western world, the debate about “art for art’s sake” versus “useful art” grew more heated in the 1980s, sparked by exhibitions such as Primitivism at the MoMA (1984) and Magiciens de la terre at the Centre Pompidou (1989), when Lanceta had already been “weaving” for more than ten years. Since then, the representation of the “other” has been a prominent and oft-debated issue in contemporary art, with some advocating an autonomous appreciation of the art of “others”, segregated from its functionality, as if that were even possible. This dichotomy is primarily expressed in terms of “contextualisation” and “decontextualisation”.
Teresa Lanceta’s woven creations, like those of the Middle Atlas and other non- Western regions, are bearers of “agency”, together with nature, people and technology. We can affirm, along with philosopher Bruno Latour, that they partake of the transcendence of the societies in which they originate, defining an enduring collectivity. As constructed–or, in this case “woven”–objects, they also weave. And just as their manufacture is not dictated by a single predefined form, pattern or direction, so their meaning is not fixed, either; it is refreshed with each new appearance, reworked to reflect the new relationships that emerge in each new context.
Teresa Lanceta draws one final fundamental lesson from the weaves of the Middle Atlas: that rugs, cushions and handiras are essential elements in an ecological conception of life that combines environment, social relations and forms of subjectivity. This is particularly relevant in our day and age, in which, as Félix Guattari reminds us in his book The Three Ecologies, as a consequence of the acceleration of techno - logical progress and the global economy, whole sections of the collective subjectivity are floundering or simply huddle around archaisms; as is the case, for example, with the dreadful rise of religious fundamentalism.
This exhibition and its accompanying catalogue take a closer look at Teresa Lanceta’s artistic practice, acknowledging her weaves as complex devices for inhabiting, as Pedro G. Romero might say, or dynamic folds in constantly evolving thought, in the words of Thomas Golsenne. Her artistic practice is a way of being-in-the-world that does not shy away from ecological reflections and that advocates the utility of art and collective creation.
Nuria Enguita Mayo