Erika Ewel

Women are the protagonists of the work of Erika Ewel (Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia, 1970), starting with herself, based on the autobiographical nature of many of her creations. “Since the beginning, my work reflects on the female universe. Specifically, I deconstruct the patriarchal male gaze toward bodies defined as female and I replace it with my own gaze, toward my own body,” she explains. Erika not only questions that gaze—which has historically tended toward objectification— but also gives new meaning to the traditional roles assigned to her gender. She does this from an intimate and domestic perspective, to draw collective lessons. Until the 14^th of February, the public can enjoy her work at Casa de América in Madrid—an institution that receives support from Iberia—under the title De los retazos me construyo.

Erika was one of the first Bolivian artists to focus on women: “Valia Carvalho and I represent a generational shift in Bolivian art. We were the first to establish femininity as a theme for reflection.” As a pioneer who forged a path for those who came after, allows herself to give a warning cry: “There are currently many more of us dealing with this theme and, sometimes, new generations forget about past struggles.” The pieces featured in the exhibition De los retazos me construyo fluctuate between abstraction and figuration, and are from her series Trama silenciosa: la delicadeza del textil. Through them, this artist deals with other invisible topics, like gender identity, working conditions, environmental awareness or collective memory.

“Once I master a technique, I get bored and look for another. I also look for which works best for what I want to express”

The exhibition, curated by Marisabel Villagómez, brings together dozens of works created with such a common material as fabric. Aware of the gender connotations associated to this medium—related to domestic work—, Erika uses it to defy imposed hierarchies and tell personal and collective stories, transforming the Sala Guayasamín at Casa de América into a space for resistance, memory and reflection. With each stitch, the artist reminds us that even the smallest gesture can be politically charged, and the greatest struggles don’t always happen in public spaces, but rather are woven in silence, within the home. “Textiles give me the freedom to create without following a pattern, it’s a free drawing—she notes—. I make it like a collage, building the piece based on scraps that I find to then sew them, either by machine or by hand. In the past eight years, I have focused on textile art.” Throughout her career, which spans more than three decades, Erika stands out as a multidisciplinary artist who bets on experimentation. She has thus explored painting, photography, embroidery, collage, installations, book objects… Where does that urge come from? “Once I master a technique, I get bored and look for another—she confesses—. I also look for which works best for what I want to express.”

Erika Ewel uses common materials, like textiles, to unravel social complexities. © Casa de América

The works of Erika Ewel have transformed Sala Guayasamín into a space for resistance, memory and reflection. © Casa de América

Through her work, Erika Ewel questions the roles assigned to women and gives a voice to silenced struggles. © Casa de América

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Beyond international biennales, it is not easy for a Bolivian artist to exhibit outside of her country, which Erika draws as a kind of island in artistic terms. “We are isolated—she mourns—. This is why showing my works at Casa de América is equivalent to bridging the gap.” If dedicating oneself exclusively to art is a heroic act anywhere in the world, it is even more so in Bolivia. “You need a lot of perseverance, a lot of resistance… You need to be prepared for any eventuality in a country scarred by political and social crises and economic recessions.” In short, living off art in Bolivia is a real challenge that you only achieve through sheer stubbornness. It’s like running a marathon.” Perhaps this is why Erika decided to spread her wings at an early age and travel to Brazil and Mexico to educate herself. Specifically, she studied a Bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts majoring in drawing at the Federal University of Minas Gerais (UFMG) in Brazil and a master’s degree in Visual Arts specializing in painting at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). An experience she recommends to her fellow citizens: “Young people need to explore the world.” In fact, she admits that, if she could, she would have done more: “My generation did not enjoy artistic residences, to leave you needed to follow an academic route.” When there was the residence boom in the 2000s, my daughters were very young; if not, I would have spent my time travelling and discovering the world.”

Back to her roots
After several years abroad, Erika returned to her roots to study a postgraduate degree with Roberto Valcárcel—the artist whom she began studying art with at the age of 14—at Saint Thomas Aquinas University, and developed a solid career. Herself admits that her work cannot be understood without Bolivia. This is how she tells it: “I think of the body as land and the land as a body. The body registers my experiences, my history in my country and its land pierces my work.” She gives a specific example connected to the textiles she uses to make most of her works in recent years: “Bolivia is a country where earth and water are being destroyed by illegal mining. The water that reaches the cities is contaminated with mercury. That reality, which is part of the environment I live in, is filtered into my work when I use dyed, oxidized, submerged or worn textiles that I find.” Another story that has been made invisible by dominant narratives, which Erika gives a voice to through her art, even from the sidelines.

“Talent is the ability to shine bright doing something that also makes you happy”

At her exhibit, De los retazos me construyo, we will also find nods to her roots, specifically in pieces from her most recent series, Paisajes, featuring landscapes in conversation with the work of her fellow countrywoman Inés Córdova (1927-2010). “Inés’ work has been an important point of reference to think about textiles from a conceptual and unsubordinated place,” she says about one of her biggest inspirations. The series, which evokes the strength of the Bolivian Altiplano: a stark, bright and symbolic geography which, according to commissioner Marisabel Villagómez, is connected to the “inner landscapes of a body straddled by an empire of dominant narratives.” With these pieces, Erika invites us to pull on the thread, look beyond the surface, discover the invisible traces of pain, oppression and colonial history that are hidden in everyday life. Erika’s work proves that we are in front of a unique talent, as intimate and personal as her inspiring definition of this word: “Talent is the ability to shine bright doing something that also makes you happy.” If we stop to think about this concept, is there anything better than this?