Art, Film, Music & Dance

Scenes from Noche de Arte 2009, Opening Night

El Híjo and I accompanied El Fotógrafo to last night’s opening of Noche de Arte, in San Isidro.

Main hall at Noche de Arte, 2009, Friday, Oct. 23

The art show was held in an enormous gallery owned by a Peruvian bank, and one of the amusing things about it was how the bank stayed open to accept deposits from art buyers. Oh, and did I mention that more than 400 works were for sale?

The paintings were displayed in several indoor galleries. The photos were hung in an outside atrium that is not appropriate for an exhibit of delicate photographs. EF didn’t like that his photos were being exposed to the elements. Oh, well. He did complain.

Two witty takes on the Vargas girl, Limena-style

Technically the artwork was well executed, for the most part. Nothing edgy or controversial, except for a life-size statue of a swimmer inside a yellow inner-tube  that turned out to be an enormous yellow penis. It was goofy, really.

One artist contributed prints from her series of contemporary Vargas girls, using Limeña models. It was one of the few pieces in the show that commented on race and identity. Two thumbs up.

I had the worst hors d’ouvre of my life at the opening. A cracker spread with a chunky pink spread that the waiter said was “queso” but which left an aftertaste of vomit. I don’t know how people get away with things like this.

–Barbara R. Drake

I am an American writer who lived in Lima for seven years (2007-2014), where I covered Andean traditions, melting glaciers and daily life in the capital for Miami Herald, MSNBC and Huffington Post. I now live and work in northern Florida where I champion climate change advocacy and compassionate, affordable eldercare.

2 Comments

  • Stuart

    If someone handed me something chunky and pink, telling me it was cheese, I’d likely politely decline.

    Now if it were chunky and pink, and they told me it was a strawberry cream, I’d consider it a realistic possibility that what they were giving me wouldn’t taste like vomit.

    I only mention the above because I felt like commenting and didn’t really have anything else to say.

    Au revoir.