|
 Eloy
Torrez
BIGGER THAN REAL
Whoever doesn’t know Eloy
Torrez, in L.A., certainly knows
his murals, spread over town… like the one who represents Bette
Davis, in Hollywood, or the one who portrays Antony Quinn, in Downtown,
at the corner of Brodway and Third. It’s impossible, indeed,
to miss them: they catch our attention, with their colors, their
energy, and, of course, the huge figures, bigger than real.
Murals came to Eloy “by chance”, as he says. They are,
in fact, the first way that he found, to pay bills, and to make a
living. He liked, though, since the start, to spend time on the scaffolding:
painting murals is a hard physical task, that, even if tiresome,
gave him great satisfaction. He felt close, that way, to the world
of his father, a Chicano from New Mexico, a worker on the railway
construction.
While restoring, first, then, creating his own murals, Eloy found
the time to make music: another activity, that “came to him
by chance”. In the corridors of the art school, he says, in
the early 80ies, the Punk era. First, he played with the Rentz, then,
with the Western Heroes. Small groups, made of two or three elements:
a guy from Philippines, two Chicanos angelinos (José Hernandez,
Carlos Valdez).
Music became soon the ideal complement, to Eloy’s painting:
it enabled him to break out of his introversion, to escape, from
the habit of solitary creation. He learnt how to interact with his
audience, and, indeed, how to know better L.A, where he arrived at
the age of 22. Having spent the previous 8 years in a village, in
the desert, between California and Nevada. A place, that he often
describes as “cultural hell”. A place forgotten by the
gods… but, also, the place of his adolescence.
Music gave Eloy instantaneous gratification, in contrast whit his
mural’s slow pace, the gradual, laborious emergency of the
images.
But he stopped playing, indeed, in ’89, when he was involved
in a show of Chicano artists, “Devils and Angels”, who
traveled to Spain and France. He was offered, too, the project of
a mural in St. Denis (a communist suburb, North of Paris). The mural
had a purpose: to express the difficult integration, for Algerian
immigrates, in the contest of the French population.
So, Eloy went to spend some months, over there, in order to prepare
his work. But the contact was difficult. The “American artist” (‘twas
the time of Bush Senior) was perceived as a sort of government agent,
certainly, well paid, both from the French, and from Uncle Sam. The
local were indifferent, or hostile, nobody wanted to translate, to
interpret, to help. And, of course, there was no organized support.
Eloy was tempted to leave, go to Italy, see something else, take
advantage of that unexpected, very unique trip to Europe. But, instead,
he waited...
So, and Indian woman, who’s mentality revealed to be way more
open, than the common, decided to collaborate, she joined him on
the scaffolding, and the work started. The initial project (a mother
with children in her arms) was refused, because too religious, so,
Eloy chose as a model Ajeda, a militant Algerian woman (who organized,
for several years, the Integration Center for immigrant mothers,
in St. Denis). When he asked Ajeda to wear her traditional African
outfit, she showed up in what, for him, was a perfect Navajo costume… Ajeda
was a “native”, where from, doesn’t matter, she
was a mother earth, who, finally, allowed him to feel less isolated,
less stranger, in that corner of the planet… So, he placed
her on a geo/globe, and, while the figure started to form itself,
the local teenagers started to come close, they asked to help. They “understood
that my heart was in the right place”, remembers Eloy, and “that
I was, really, trying to connect with them”.
Finally.
To
central Ajeda, Eloy added the figures of a young rapper, and of another
North African boy. They both held a book, in their hands: for Eloy,
it’s a fundamental icon, it represents the passage of information… that,
certainly, was missing, in the isolated hell of his youth. But, also
in evolved and emancipated St. Denis, where he found himself stuck
to a banal stereotype, being identified with capitalistic US, only
because he didn’t wear a bandana, a top ten, ‘cause he
didn’t sport a fist. It is useful, to remember that Eloy, born
in ‘54, belongs to a time where, in Albaquerque, New Mexico’s
bars, one could find the “Forbidden to Mexicans” sign,
as, in Switzerland, one could read the “Forbidden to Italians”…
There, in St. Denis, Eloy composed a song: “Lucky one”,
still sang by his most recent group. The lyrics, kindly suggest that
one may be different, from what, at first sight, one might appear…
For a couple years, then, Eloy gave up music, thorn, as all artist,
by the lack of time, the necessity to choose. Also, instigated, by
friends, and enemies, to select only one art form.
But, music keeps “coming back”: at a party, with his
friend Manuel Luna (a Salvadorian poet, great percussionist), Eloy
meets singer Karen Nelson, and he’s stunned by her beautiful
voice.
“
Things, in life, happens when we are ready, we cannot force them,
otherwise”… we cannot stop them, either.
So, he realizes that he’s surrounded by a great bass player,
an excellent mandolin and accordion player (Scott Rodarte), and other
long date pals, all ready, all bunched together… a band, that,
if he had to create it from scratches, would take months, years…
Almost all of them are Chicanos angelinos, so, they have the force,
the rage, the pride, the ignition… but, over time, their peculiar
identity has transformed. Losing its too exclusive, militant rigidity,
which dated from back in the 60ies, when Chicanos followed the footprints
and moods of the Black Panthers …
Now, these new Chicanos, to
counterbalance the St. Denis experience, are extremely open to
all musical influence, Celtic, Mediterranean,
Oriental or African.
We find multiple sounds, so, hybrid, and surprising, at Eloy’s
and Musician’s concerts, and the Chicano energy, of course.
It’s impossible, for Eloy, to give up music (it comes unavoidable,
as a spell, or a gift, as a temptation, or a guardian angel…),
and it is impossible to give up murals.
But, at 50, it becomes urgent, for him, to know what’s the
legacy, that he wants to transmit. What does he want to leave, as
an artist?
It’s the moment to record CDs, but, also, to melt music and
painting. So, he starts to document, with figures, again, “bigger
than real”, the world of the Chicano musicians.
Till now, the recurrent theme in Eloy’s painting were women.
Like Bette Davis (by the way, a great leader of women’s equal
rights, in the movie industry), or, like Ajeda…
“
I never had a sister, and I always wanted one”, says Eloy.
Another empty place to fill, like the need for cultural information.
Another quest, or mission, in the romantic credo (still pursued by
some artist) that the world can evolve, through expression, to a
higher level of consciousness.
Now, the images of the musicians become
central, more urgent. Eloy focuses over one character, at a time,
in order to catch the moment
of rapture, almost mystic, almost sexual, when, in playing, one
loses (or gives), completely, him/herself.
Well, beyond the creative impulse, for an artist who, like Eloy,
comes from a Chicano background, catholic and poor, there are,
of course, sacred images: of saints, virgins, Christ. The “child
who’ll be artist” is fascinated, by these images, that
he perceives like heroes, like creatures “out of this world”.
They express some exhilarant, undecipherable feelings, they make
him anticipate orgiastic ecstasy, or extracorporal, altered states.
But also, even more, they translate an exceptional humanity, an enormous
capacity of presence. Here, in the moment.
So, a daily and urban heroism,
we should say, that Eloy, now, finds, in the artists that he befriends,
his musicians, his traveling companions.
In that “Latin passion”, that he so well witnesses and
portrays .
In contrast, with other passion’s renderings, other interpretations,
like Bill Viola’s, or Mel Gibson’s. That we, definitively,
find harder to believe.
Toti O'Brien |
