Of the nine books that the poet Sappho (630 BC) composed, only one poem has survived in its entirety. The rest, what has come down to us are fragments, and the poet Anne Carson collects them, translates and reinterprets them in a book of disturbing beauty called ‘If not, winter’, where what we read captivates us especially because of what it is intuited behind those verses.
The artist Jordi Bernadó (Lleida, 1966) is inspired by this title, ‘Si no, el Invierno’ in an exhibition that is a double wink to Safo and Anne Carson to also recover fragments through which he constructs a look at a world, ours, where the ground has begun to crack. And it is from there, from the crack, from where Bernadó tracks the elusive beauty through the tracks it leaves when it retires.
In continuous migration towards territories yet to be discovered and occupied, in a moment of loss of common orientation, the human being needs to land somewhere. Although it is in a question that opens looking for a map of new references and reclaiming old ones. But far from wanting to offer certainties, the images that make up ‘If not, tomorrow’ rather they are signs that point to the emergence of a new reality, signs linked by an invisible thread, a questioning, that orders them.
How to live? How do we inhabit space? What do we do to find a place that is not a mirage?
This exhibition was born from the need to navigate uncertainty, to know how to interpret silences and signals. Perhaps it is no longer enough to make an inventory of man’s mistakes and it is now convenient to glimpse and draw a map of the truths of nature and the exemplary nature of people. And perhaps from there, without losing sight of wonder and doubt, to continue. That everything is ephemeral is also a hypothesis of eternity