Marcel Dzama, Pink Moon, 2020, © Marcel Dzama, Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner
Blending mischief with magic, and drawing from fairytale as readily as art history, Marcel Dzama’s is a world caught between the real and the subconscious. This exhibition is inspired by the artist’s travels, and is named after viewing the first full moon of spring this year – a pink moon for hope and renewal. Timely, then – we all need a little hopefulness, and we could all benefit from some meaningful escapism.
Ready to step over the border between holiday snaps and dreams?On 7 April 2020, the artist Marcel Dzama is on his rooftop, looking up at a pink moon, the first full moon of spring. He sees it as ‘a symbol of renewal’, providing a title for his new exhibition. Or so says David Zwirner’s wall text – not on a gallery wall, of course, but a pull-quote on their virtual Viewing Room.
A little creepy, but ultimately harmless – the way Mr. Wolf gets you, when you ask him what the time is
Yet, although undeniably hopeful, whimsical even, Dzama’s ‘Pink Moon’ (2020) is tinted with a healthy dose of dread. Like Nick Drake’s song of the same name, this ‘pink moon gonna get ye all’. But there’s something portly and Gammon-ish about the way Dzama’s moon might get you. A little creepy, but ultimately harmless – the way Mr. Wolf gets you, when you ask him what the time is.
This pink moon has a stubby little tongue, quizzical eyebrows, and a knowing smile. He’s framed by celestial miasma. Standing on which are two – I’m going to say – ‘witches’, masked and veiled and wearing Puritan-looking hats and dresses of a modest length. Their wands might just as easily grant wishes or point to algebraic equations on a chalkboard. A wolf or big cat peek-a-boos over the clouds between them.
ArrayIt’s often difficult to determine which visual languages Dzama is drawing from – far easier to decide his work has a referential texture. Here we have fairytale, vintage films, comic books, textiles, and masques. The consistently returned to dimensions, along with the way Dzama leaves a white border around his paintings and titles them at the bottom, puts me in mind of Tarot cards.
And I wonder if Dzama’s work might be ‘read’ in the same spirit as Tarot: by formulating questions, drawing an image; interpretation here requires a strong mix of intuition and familiarity with symbols pulled from a wide range of human consciousness.
Here, monstering is play. The ferocious beast is tame, wrapped in a fetching polka-dot shawl. Still, he wears it well
‘What obstacles must I overcome to find love?’ you might ask, and we might draw ‘I am her minotaur and she is my matador’ (2020). The minotaur – Pablo Picasso’s alter-ego in the 1930s, no less – is symbolically bound up with forbidden desires, guilt and despair.
Yet here, monstering is play. The ferocious beast is tame, wrapped in a fetching polka-dot shawl. Still, he wears it well – it doesn’t undermine his sexual potency. Meanwhile, our matador looks out at us coquettishly, with all three of her eyes.
Marcel Dzama, I am her minotaur and she is my matador, 2020, © Marcel Dzama, Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner
Marcel Dzama, A mermaid on dolphins back uttering harmonious breath, 2020, © Marcel Dzama, Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner
The blue fabric backdrop – with its Matisse-like leaf-print – is pulled aside to reveal some writing: on its own, ‘tenãco’ is the Portuguese word for ‘tenacious’, yet the start of the word seems to be obscured.
Whether it’s masks, third eyes, or strategically placed textiles, Dzama’s work refuses to relinquish all its mystery – and lovers must maintain an element of that, if they’re going to go the long-haul. Even the unlikeliest of pairs can make it work – the feminine balancing the masculine, the mythic tempering the everyday – with a little tenacity.
This body of work sees Dzama injecting bursts of Tropicana into his typically subdued, 50s-looking palette
For all their fantasy, the works in ‘Pink Moon’ can be seen as a travel diary of sorts, drawn from Dzama’s trips to Mexico and Morocco (the former, earlier this year with his family.) While tending towards the abstract or surreal, we are also firmly rooted in the reality of what Dzama witnessed; most notably, in his inclusion of textile patterns and wildlife – peacocks, monkeys, and butterflies join the imaginarium.
As does Dzama’s son. To capture the adventure and excitement of travel, this body of work sees Dzama injecting bursts of Tropicana into his typically subdued, 50s-looking palette.
Marcel Dzama, Store of women’s kaftans in a market and my son with hat, 2018, © Marcel Dzama, Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner
Marcel Dzama, The pool near the ocean, 2020, © Marcel Dzama, Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner
Speaking of colour, alongside the exhibition Dzama has produced a colouring book, available to download for free. ‘When my son ran out of colouring books during quarantine,’ he explains, ‘we collaborated on drawings I could make him to colour in […] I thought it might be fun for others to colour these drawings in as well.’ It’s a gesture befitting Dzama’s oeuvre: his work is tantalisingly accessible, even as the surprising non-sequiturs of the artist’s thought-experiments colour us outside the lines.
Whether it’s halfway around the world, down the proverbial rabbit hole, or a short break from the strains of lockdown, we all sometimes need to escape.
His work is tantalisingly accessible, even as the surprising non-sequiturs of the artist’s thought-experiments colour us outside the lines
The final drawing in Dzama’s Colouring the Moon Pink offers us one such daydream. A pool by the sea. Palm-trees. People wearing masks. Cross-legged sun salutations. A big bad wolf who bears his teeth, as he peers over the lip of the swimming pool, posing just the hint of a threat. But our focus is on the knock-off Tweetie Pie, his casual stroll in top hat and tuxedo, with an umbrella for a cane.
He’s waving at us. Welcome in. As if a hopeful and divining answer to another question posed to Dzama’s deck – What does the future hold? – the image is captioned, ‘Everything gonna be just fine…’
Marcel Dzama’s ‘Pink Moon’ exhibition can be viewed online here.
