Photos: Courtesy or Barrenechea's family 

Bolivian and American history set in metal and stone 

A new exhibition of the works of Victor Hugo Barrenechea at the Museo de la Revolución in La Paz, the first major retrospective of his work since his death in 2016, confirms the sculptor's place on the highest pedestal of Bolivian arts.

Best known for his large-scale monumental works commemorating great figures and events from across the continent, Barrenechea was born in Sucre in 1929. Art was ever present in the Barrenechea household from Victor Hugo’s earliest years. His father was a notable sculptor in his own right, and helped to nurture his son’s artistic talent. During Victor Hugo’s formative years, his father would become his first and most important mentor, teaching and advising him as he began to explore artistic possibilities and eventually helping him take his first tentative steps down the path to becoming a sculptor.

By his teenage years it was apparent that, under his father’s eye, Victor Hugo had developed a precocious talent for sculpture. However, he also received a formal artistic education, studying at the Academia de Bellas Artes ‘Zacarías Benavides’ in Sucre, and also spending time at a sculpture and pottery school in Cochabamba.

When he was 17, Victor Hugo travelled to La Paz to continue his studies and set up in earnest as sculptor, receiving the patronage of the wealthy Patiño family. At 20 he received recognition for his talents in the form of a national prize and the offer of a scholarship to study in Italy from then Bolivian President Enrique Hertzog.

However, at this point in the trajectory of Victor Hugo’s career, history intervened. Since a defeat to Paraguay in the Chaco War in the early 1930s, Bolivia had been in turmoil as popular dissatisfaction with the criollo elites began to spill out into open opposition. Matters came to a head in 1951 when President Urriolagoitía handed power to a military junta instead of to the opposition Movimiento Nacionalista Revolucionario (MNR), which had just won the elections. This set the stage for a full-scale uprising the following year. In what became known as the Revolución Nacional, the MNR, backed by prominent figures in the police force, overthrew the military in 1952 and began a period of radical reform.

The events of 1952 had a great impact on the young Victor Hugo. The unrest prevented him from going to Europe, but it had a lasting impact on his artistic outlook. It is perhaps fitting that the exhibition displays Victor Hugo’s works in the museum commemorating the Revolución Nacional, since the revolutionary spirit of the time, with its promises of universal suffrage, land redistribution and education reform, provided the key inspirations for his early works, which attempted to express this newfound hope through art. For example, his first major commission, obtained shortly after the revolution in 1952, was the creation of a monument to the miners of Siglo XX, a tin mine in the Department of Potosí, who had played a key role in the opposition to the sexenio. 

That work, carried out that year, features a miner standing atop a semicircular mineshaft. One foot is slightly forward and the head is raised, as though the miner is setting out for a distant goal. In his right hand he carries a drill, the symbol of his work, but the left hand carries a rifle raised in a defiant pose, encapsulating the revolutionary fervour of the age. Victor Hugo would later create similar monuments to the miners’ struggle across the country, most notably in Oruro, and develop a reputation as the country’s leading monumental sculptor.

Barrenechea’s sculptures capture a sense of togetherness and national community that underpins a hope for a better Bolivia.

These early works exhibit many of the characteristics that would go on to define the artist’s oeuvre. They are in many ways both forwards- and backwards-looking. As monuments, they commemorate central figures in Bolivian history, celebrating their role in history, but do not serve as mere paeans to a dead past. Instead, they capture a sense of togetherness and national community that underpins a hope for a better Bolivia.

This goes beyond a political ideology to reflect Victor Hugo's strong sense of public duty, a desire to create art not only for art’s sake but to give something back to his country and help bind it together. ‘He lived for his work,’ his daughter María Julia said. This was even seen in his conduct towards others. ‘He was a just man,’ she remembers, recalling how he would always look out for his workers, ensuring they received a fair share of the proceeds from a sculpture and making sure that when they left his service they had enough to live off of.

His children also describe his highly meticulous approach to his art. Hugo Barrenechea Cueto, his older son, remembers Victor Hugo as a man ‘with a really close attention to detail.’ Having received a commission, he would spend months carrying out a minute analysis of his subject, voraciously reading to build up a complete picture of their life and background and then going into the field to make sketches and plans for every aspect of the sculpture. This is reflected in the subtle manipulations of lines and contours that radically alter the expressions of his subjects, breathing life into the busts on display. Meanwhile, clothes are rendered so expertly that, although in the bronze, they seem to retain their natural texture and dynamism.

In an anecdote that perfectly captures the power that his sculptures had to enthral and inspire, Hugo recalls that one night burglars managed to break into his father’s workshops. Though the sculptures themselves were too heavy to steal, the thieves made off with anything portable they could find, including all the tools in the room. However, so impressed were they by the art they saw that before making their escape they paused to scrawl on the wall in large letters ‘good work.’

The exhibition also sheds light on the practical processes involved in creating great monuments. The works on display are drawn from all stages of the creative process. There are small-scale models used to give preliminary outlines of the final works, and larger creations in plaster that represent an experimental phase, as moulds were shaped and reshaped by Victor Hugo’s expert hands, making what Hugo called ’small tweaks through which he was able to give life to his works’. Lastly there are full-scale bronze busts, such as those of el Libertador Simón Bolivar and Chaco War hero Germán Busch.

The whole process, from the preliminary miniature models to the creation of the finished product in the foundry, was overseen by Victor Hugo himself. He even took a special course in metalwork so he could participate in the final casting of his statues. As Hugo said, ‘He made his works piece by piece.’ From start to finish, one statue could take up to six months of dedicated work – ‘for equestrian statues, sometimes a year.’

Barrenechea bequeathed a great legacy to his country, both in the form of his ‘titanic work’ and the skills he passed on to his many pupils.

Many of the works on display are merely composite parts of even larger works now displayed in public places. For example, the bust of Simón Bolivar is in fact part of a giant equestrian statue that exists in three separate versions in Caracas, San Francisco and Quebec, a testament to the international reputation of its sculptor. Indeed, Victor Hugo was so renowned that even in 1976 when the sculpture was made, at the height of a violent military dictatorship, he continued to receive commissions for works that, though devoid of their earlier revolutionary symbolism, continued to memorialise the great figures of Bolivian history.

As he grew older Victor Hugo maintained his passion for sculpture. ‘Even in his later life he was still making his sculptures,’ Hugo said. ‘He felt alive when he was working, it was part of his life.’ This passion was transmitted to his children – Hugo, María Julia, Marco Antonio, Miguel Ángel, Norma Rebeca and Harolod Rodolfo – who learned about the art of sculpture as they were growing up, while Victor Hugo’s wife helped him with the administrative part of his work. Although he passed away in 2016, he bequeathed a great legacy to his country, both in the form of his ‘titanic work’ and the skills he passed on to his many pupils, whom he taught at the Academia de Bellas Artes.

For more information about the conservation of Victor Hugo Barrenechea's work, call 591-70673300 or 591-72561700, or write to danielasaraimurillo@hotmail.com

Photos: Lola Newell 

Students keep traditional Bolivian dance alive 

Every year thousands of university students from the Higher University of San Andrés (UMSA) take to the streets of La Paz to show off their dancing skills in a parade that helps keep alive the many traditional dances of Bolivia. Now in its 32nd year, the first Entrada Folklórica Universitaria, in 1988, comprised just eight different folkloric groups; this year there were 73 different fraternities and over 10,000 dancers. On the 3rd of August, the students danced from the Puente Cervecería, near La Paz’s bus terminal, to the Parque Urbano Central, in between the Sopocachi and Miraflores neighbourhoods, a nearly three-kilometre route, with the first dancers setting off at 8 am and the last participants dancing along the route nearly 11 hours later.

The yearly parade, a joint effort between UMSA and the La Paz’s Office of Culture, was originally founded by Luis Sempértegui Miranda, who wanted to encourage students to engage with Bolivian culture and become fundamental pillars in the defense of their heritage. Taking inspiration from the world-famous Carnival in Oruro, which many students at UMSA had already taken part in, Sempértegui decided to try to create something similar in La Paz, but exclusively with students. It took many years of persuasion, organisation and hard work, but Sempértegui’s dream finally became a reality, and the Entrada Folklórica Universitaria was born. 

The Entrada Folklórica Universitaria is a true celebration of Bolivian culture, and it continues to grow year after year, helping keep Bolivian folkloric dance alive and thriving.

Nearly 40 different types of Bolivian dance are performed at the parade, from the better-known morenada and tinku to more obscure dances like the auqui auqui. Tian Inofuentes of La Paz’s Office of Culture said, ‘This parade is different from others because it includes indigenous dances, which are considered the most representative of the rural areas of our country and don’t exist in the other big parades of Bolivia.’ Pamala Arana, who was dancing the saya afroboliviana in the parade, explained that she took part because it’s ‘one of the parades with the most diversity.’

One of the most popular and striking dances in the parade was the tinku, which means ‘physical attack’ in Aymara. The dance derives from a ceremonial brawl of the same name that is held annually in the region of Potosí. It’s a high-energy dance with a fighting-like quality, featuring lots of strong movements and chanting. The dancers’ brightly coloured costumes are equally as striking, with helmet-like feather-adorned hats topping off the look.

Another dance that stood out was the saya afroboliviana, from the Yungas region in the La Paz department. A dance originated by enslaved people of African descent who were forcibly taken to Bolivia during the Spanish colonial period, it is characterised by its tenacious drum beat. Dressed in white with colourful trims, the saya afroboliviana dancers exhibited a passion and energy that made their dance a highlight of the parade.

For the students, this annual parade is an essential part of their university experience. Janneth Quispe described it as ‘renewing Bolivian culture.’ Despite each faculty having its own dance, students are free to partake in whichever one they prefer, giving them the opportunity to learn multiple dances during their time at university. And they don’t only learn the dance; they are required to research the history and importance of the dance they chose, which encourages them to develop a deeper understanding of its cultural significance. Verenice Gutiérrez, who was dancing the tonada potosina, said, ‘When we don’t know [the history of the dance], we just dance for the sake of dancing; but when we understand the importance of the dance we become more excited about dancing it.’

‘It’s a gathering of young people who want to have fun and give everything they’ve got through dance.’

—Dancer Estephany Gutiérrez

The students participating in the parade made clear how passionate they were about Bolivian dance. Aurelia Quispe, who was dancing the llamerada, said she and her fellow students were ‘trying to recover, to prioritise what is Bolivian culture.’ Alexander Peñaloza, who was dancing the tonada potosina, shared Aurelia’s sentiment, stating that, above all, it was ‘a cultural expression, showing the dances, our culture, the clothing.’ Morenada dancer Eugenia Flores said it was a moment to ‘show what our culture is.’

But the parade is also an opportunity for the students to have some fun. Estephany Gutiérrez, who was dancing the rueda chapaca, described the parade as ‘a gathering of young people who want to have fun and give everything they’ve got through dance.’ Many students talked about how it was one of the happiest and most enjoyable parades that they had ever taken part in. Some also talked about the sense of pride they felt at being able to take part in and show off Bolivian dance and music. Max Mamani, a musician taking part in the parade, spoke of his love for Bolivian music and how being able to play in the parade was ‘an honour.’ 

The passion and love these students have for Bolivian dance is remarkable. The Entrada Folklórica Universitaria is a true celebration of Bolivian culture, and it continues to grow year after year, helping keep Bolivian folkloric dance alive and thriving.

Photos: Jack Curson 

Freddy Mamani’s cholets are brought to life through cinematic art 

For two weeks in July of this year, the UK’s Architectural Association Visiting School programme called on the La Paz metropolitan region for a fourth consecutive year, with this visit’s focus being ‘Portable Cholets.’ Freddy Mamani’s cholets, the vibrantly colourful mansions which adorn the hardscrabble streets of El Alto, were used as the inspiration for a piece of wearable performance architecture. With the help of some of the most prominent artistic figures in La Paz and El Alto, the cohort of students sought to transform the works of one of Bolivia’s most striking contemporary architects into masks and clothing which would form the basis of a performance exploring anthropomorphism in architecture. For anyone with the notion of architecture as an art restricted to the design of buildings, this innovative project will eradicate any such misconception.

Freddy Mamani’s work is distinct in its rejection of the conventional styles generally preferred by Bolivian architects trained in the Western tradition. Instead, Mamani’s cholets fuse futuristic elements with indigenous symbolism, such as the vibrant colours of the traditional Aymara aguayo dress and the geometrics of the ancient site of Tiwanaku, to construct truly original designs. Mamani’s architectural style is distinct in its power to express the identity of the Andean people, reifying fundamental aspects of their culture and traditions in the form of the cholets.

Just as Mamani’s work defies convention, the project sought to utilise a fresh approach to explore the power of architecture to reflect the culture of the people who inhabit it, and more specifically the questions of identity and folklore that dominate the work of Freddy Mamani. For Sabrina Morreale, the architect that led the project alongside Lorenzo Perri, this method was crucial to success. ‘We try to do architecture not through books or studying,’ she said, ‘but through an intervention on site.’

Mamani’s cholets fuse futuristic elements with indigenous symbolism.

The fortnight-long programme began with a private screening of the 2018 Bolivian film Averno, following which the students were given the opportunity to discuss the award-winning production with the film’s writer and director, Marcos Loayza. Just as Mamani’s cholets explore Andean indigneous identity in structural form, Loayza’s film explores Andean indigenous beliefs and conceptions of identity through an immersive, hypnagogic narrative in the setting of La Paz after dark. The meeting with Loayza proved an invaluable opportunity for the students to learn about the meaning behind the symbols which are scattered throughout Averno and to find inspiration for their own final production. With the final goal of creating a short film depicting the portable cholets in a piece of performance art, the meeting provided a huge opportunity to gain a director’s insight into how abstract concepts and symbols can best be captured on film.

When asked where they might seek inspiration for their own short film, Loayza confided to the students that ‘there is always a trigger – it could be a drawing, a space, a location, a character or an idea.’ For the participants in the Visiting School programme, it was a visit to a cholet currently under construction that provided the spark. Having been given a guided tour by Mamani himself, it was this striking location that was chosen as the setting for the performance that would be filmed and finally screened at the end of the two weeks. For Jasmine Abu Hamdan, a current student at the Architectural Association School of Architecture, the incomplete cholet ‘had a particular charm to it, with the rendered elaborate ceilings contrasting the bare walls.’

With the location settled and a storyboard for the performance created, the craftwork for the masks and costumes for the film took place in the Bunker, an art studio near the La Paz bus terminal which began life as an alternative theatre hall. Using an eclectic range of materials sourced locally in the city – from a rear-view mirror of a car to an inflated disposable glove, among other disparate objects – a collection of surreal masks was created to be used as a focal point for the closing scene. Following the completion of the apparel for the main character, which included the painting of its sprawling, geometrically patterned dress and the welding together of its pyramidic skeleton, crafting was complete. With just two days to perform and film in the cholet, the Visiting School team and guest director Marcos Loayza set to work on the final piece.

The film begins with a stunning overview of El Alto at first light amidst the backdrop of Illimani’s towering, snow-covered peaks. Following the journey of the main character from the streets of El Alto up to the heights of the cholet, the building’s incomplete, glassless structure is manipulated to capture stunning snapshots of the ascending figure. The turning point occurs when the main character, a blank, pyramid-shaped character whose form can be recognised as a symbolic representation of the earth goddess Pachamama, eventually unveils its vibrant dress underneath the lime and gold ceiling of the cholet. At this point the film transforms into a surreal spectacle, with the collection of spectacular masks amidst a dimly lit setting appearing to take inspiration from the bizarre and wonderful characters which populate the dark underworld in Loayza’s Averno.

The programme stayed true to Mamani’s own vision of embodying identity in art.

With a final screening and exhibition of the film and the masks, the Visiting School’s fourth La Paz–El Alto residency was brought to its conclusion. For Jasmine Abu Hamdan, the programme was a compelling experience. ‘Both La Paz and El Alto are surreal cities with surreal urban and cultural aspects,’ she said. ‘It particularly interested me seeing how rituals can inform the architecture that a community inhabits.’ In its exploration of complex concepts of symbolism and culture through performance, the Visiting School programme stayed true to Mamani’s own vision of embodying identity in art.

Architectural Association Visiting School

More information: https://www.aaschool.ac.uk/STUDY/VISITING/bolivia

Instagram: @aavs_elalto