Oct 132011

oroza-moreno-jenny jenny-oroza-moreno

Jenny is part of a series of projects that explore objects that have been taken out of the infrastructures and circulation systems for which they were designed, and have subsequently been employed in unexpected ways. The goal of these projects is to recognize and record the new logics that are applied to these objects, while, at the same time, attempting to push further the productive and re-purposing impulses that underscore them.
Jenny is a modular unit that exploits the stackability of milk crates in order to optimize the use of these objects and to produce functional architectural spaces. It has been used as screen room seating, a display structure, and a bookshelf.
Jenny comes in two sizes: 48” and 72”. Each sized is indexed by a different color.

A text on generic objects was published in E-FLUX JOURNAL 18.


Oct 192008
Oct 142008

Statement of Necessity by Ernesto Oroza
Foreword: Gean Moreno
Publisher: Alonso Art and BookSurge Publishing (November 11, 2008)
ISBN-10: 1439216657
ISBN-13: 978-1439216651
Book documenting the exhibition Statement of Necessity by Ernesto Oroza, at Alonso Art in November-December, 2008. The book features the 20 color photographs exhibited. www.alonsoart.com

book-cover-sn bookint-sn

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Oct 082008

–Gean Moreno

The qualifier “popular” in popular design aims, it seems, to bracket the everyday call-and-response of necessity and ingenuity in order to re-locate an entire field within definitions supported by less pedestrian paradigms. Design, the presence of the qualifier seems to insinuate, is nothing as basic as a practice characterized by gestures through which objects are optimized to respond to immediate needs. We should enhance our definition of the discipline by speaking of it as an autonomous creative field with a clear historical trajectory and stellar practitioners; by recalling the matrix of institutions that legitimize its products; by considering it in relation to markets and mass production; by pumping out reams of text that explain its complex interaction with clients, demographics, and media. We should, in other words, define design exclusively in relation to the shape it has taken as a response to the pressures applied by the material conditions of late capitalism. Anything else would be utopian thinking, academic exegesis, theory, or simply naïveté.

Ernesto Oroza came of age as a designer—and as something other than a designer: a meta-designer, a theoretical designer, an ex-designer (as Marti Giuxé says), an artist—in a context in which the material conditions that have shaped design as the global practice that we know and celebrate didn’t exist. Graduating from Havana’s Instituto Superior de Diseño in 1993, he entered the field at a moment when, due to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of Soviet subsidies, Cuba was undergoing its most calamitous economic crisis—the Special Period in Times of Peace. This crisis shut down the production of any new objects on the island and nearly eliminated all imports of non-essential foodstuffs and the like. The lesson of this time, Oroza has argued, is that “Cubans understood that they would have to meet their own needs, as they lived in a country where the State owned all productive capabilities. Urgency placed the individual at the center of the country’s survival.”[1] Scarcity marked the moment. And this opened a gulf between emergent needs and the availability of products that responded to these needs. A broken fan couldn’t be replaced by a new one. The possibility of a one-to-one exchange of objects vanished. As the life of things came to an end, there was nothing to take their place. And so aged and broken objects had to be kept in circulation, readjusted and reconfigured to respond to unexpected demands. A broken phone could serve as the base of a fan; a dinner tray became a TV antennae.

Oroza has devised a number of terms to describe the processes that characterized this period of massive popular design. He has spoken of technological disobedience as a fundamental aspect of it, and he uses the term to highlight the fact that it became a common practice to reroute objects intended to respond to a particular need so that they could respond to a completely different one—one that was not envisioned in the processes of design and production from which it emerged. The phone-as-fan-base and the dinner-tray-as-TV-antennae serve as paradigmatic examples. Rather than user-end empowerment that digital technologies have opened up, what we have here is need trumping intended function. It’s not picking whatever song you want, but using the iPod as a wedge to hold a doorjamb in place. Not selecting the quality of gasoline at the pump, but using the yellow plastic gas tank as a sign for your taxi.

When enough of these “re-formatted” objects begin to appear, enough to significantly change the morphology of a city or a town, it could be said that this popular design has turned into something else: a popular urbanism; a way of irrevocably altering urban texture. In other words, the individual gestures through which objects are synthetically reformatted to respond to emergent needs—that is, the individual gestures of technological disobedience—coalesce into a large collective force that alters the shape of a city. Oroza has called this collectivization and transcendence of individual instances of disobedience familial urbanism. That is, an urbanism that begins with the alterations that take place in each household, responding to the needs of each family. The familial, however, in becoming urbanism is an example of the whole being more than the parts: as urbanism, it becomes a force the effects of which exceed each of the individual instances that comprise it.

For over a decade, Oroza has documented and theorized this new logic of popular design, always looking for precise concepts that express its singularity. The form of design that he has dealt with is often thought of in terms of recycling in the West, but surrendering it too quickly in this kind of discourse occludes one of the things that has been central to Oroza’s project: naming the engine that drives this mode of design, rather than naming its effects. Recycling as such is a process. What has interested Oroza is the root cause: the question of necessity; that is, an understanding of the local material conditions that underscore the emergence of this explosion of popular design. It’s a matter of keeping an eye on the context, on the historical moment. He has said: “Necessity has been stigmatized in Western culture. If you find yourself in need, you are considered weak. If you express demands for these needs to be met, you are considered vulgar. Since the 1990s, Cubans have done violence to this stigma. Each object produced or solution discovered has been a statement of principle.”[2]

Responding to necessity, then, Oroza considers that each of these objects have an ethical dimension: each is, as he says, a statement of principle and freedom, a response against a plummeting in the quality of living conditions, against a disintegrating social fabric, and, lastly, against an eroding urban texture. This is why Oroza refuses to participate in the discussion of Havana as a ruin. Such a discourse takes a sweeping view of the city, focusing on its dilapidated surfaces, and ignoring the ground-level and “hidden” gestures of its inhabitants, the new behaviors and altered objects that optimize their responses to immediate needs, to pressures that emerge from existing and local material conditions. Behind the crumbling buildings of the city, Oroza argues, there is another interior city, or city of interiorities: one of architectural up-datings and object re-designs that speak the truth of their moment and the ethics of their producers.

[1] Moreno, Gean, “Object as Index: Ernesto Oroza in Conversation with Gean Moreno,” Art Papers, May-June, 2008, p.25

[2] Moreno, Ibid., p.25

Oct 012008

NOWHERE/NOW/HERE Exhibition: Laboral Centro de Arte. Download catalogue

Curators: Roberto Feo & Rosario Hurtado (El Último Grito), London / Berlin


LABoral Centro de Arte y Creación Industrial presenta Nowhere/Now/Here, una exposición sobre diseño experimental, comisariada por El Último Grito, asociación creativa formada por Roberto Feo y Rosario Hurtado. Con estudio en Berlín y Londres, ambos comisarios se proponen el reto de superar la percepción clásica del diseño para replantearse nuestra relación con el entorno. Al adoptar como punto de partida la perspectiva de que nuestro entorno ha pasado a formar parte de nosotros sin que nosotros formemos parte de él, Nowhere/Now/Here nos anima a considerar el diseño como un componente integral del proceso que conforma el mundo.

Tres temas clave de la exposición nos embarcan en un viaje inspirador a través de las visiones, los enfoques y las reflexiones personales sobre cómo podemos transformar el modo en que vivimos:

Resistencia cultural: replantea la idea de lo que supone la cultura en la actualidad y las numerosas formas de percibirla, lanza una provocación a los sistemas existentes y propone alternativas nuevas en un contexto socioeconómico y religioso. Asimismo, ofrece una oportunidad de descubrir narrativas nuevas en relación con un objeto, además de cambios culturales en la profesión del diseñador.

Exploración psicológica: investiga nuestra forma de entender un objeto a nivel psicológico. Este tema examina cómo nos relacionamos y reaccionamos emocionalmente ante un objeto y cómo dejamos que nos traslade a lugares y momentos distintos.

Intervención material: analiza las herramientas, materiales y tecnologías nuevas que se aplican a los procesos contemporáneos de diseño y fabricación. Además, este apartado aborda la interferencia entre el consumismo y la ecología. Explora también la influencia de la influencia gráfica y espacial en nuestro comportamiento, así como nuestra relación con el espacio y los objetos.

Nowhere/Now/Here presenta más de 60 obras que incluyen desde productos cotidianos, moda o joyas, hasta instalaciones y muestras en directo de diseñadores reconocidos, como Tord Boontje, Jerszy Seymour, Santiago Cirugeda, Dunne&Raby, junto a diseñadores emergentes como Martino Gamper, Paul Cocksedge, Assa Ashuach, Troika, estudiantes y recién licenciados como Raw Edges, Dash Macdonald y Nacho Carbonell, entre otros. Un aspecto esencial para Nowhere/Now/Here es la contribución de cuatro maestros: Ron Arad, Gaetano Pesce, Javier Mariscal y Daniel Weil, quienes contextualizan el trabajo de la joven generación a través de una serie de entrevistas y algunas de sus obras.

El diseñador presenta habitualmente la idea de un mundo personalizado, más funcional y finalmente mejor a través de grupos formulados sobre la noción del contexto no lineal, que no identifica una disciplina, técnica o material común, sino que crea una unidad que se evoca mediante la asociación de ideas. Este viaje conceptual organizado por El Último Grito atraviesa espacios en varios niveles con formas hexagonales diseñados por Patricia Urquiola y Martino Berghinz, así como la visión y la imagen gráfica de Fernando Gutiérrez.

Nowhere/Now/Here ofrece la oportunidad de reflexionar acerca de cómo el diseño y la tecnología pueden cambiar nuestras vidas, nuestros sistemas y nuestro entorno, enfoque que ha mantenido El Último Grito desde el inicio de su labor creativa. Este dúo ha tenido como constante en su trayectoria el alejamiento de las definiciones preconcebidas para investigar nuevas formas de entender el diseño contemporáneo. Roberto Feo y Rosario Hurtado piensan que Nowhere/Now/Here debe ser un primer paso de algo que tendrá continuación. Con su propuesta para LABoral han querido «iniciar un capítulo, en lugar de cerrarlo».

COMISARIOS: Rosario Hurtado y Roberto Feo (El Último Grito), Londres / Berlín

ARTISTAS: 5:5 Designers, AA, Amidov, Assa Ashuach, Bruce Bell, Bryony Birkbeck, Tord Boontje, Marta Botas & Germán R. Blanco, David Bowen, Fernando Brizio, Nacho Carbonell, Daniel Charny & Gabriel Klasmer, Santiago Cirugeda, Carl Clerkin, Paul Cocksedge, Dainippon Type Organization, Óscar Díaz, Dunne & Raby, Daniel Eatock, Olivia Flore Decaris, Tiago Fonseca, Fulguro & Thomas Jomini, Architecture Workshop, Martino Gamper, Martí Guixé, Mathias Hahn, Interaction Research Studio, Onkar Kular, Tithi Kutchamuch, Dash MacDonald, Material Beliefs (Auger-Loizeau, Elio Caccavale, Tobie Kerridge, Susana Soares, Aleksandar Zivanovic, David Muth), Alejandro Mazuelas, Alon Meron, mmmm…, Eelko Moorer, Oscar Narud, NB: Studio, Ernesto Oroza, Marc Owens, Pedrita, Laura Potter, Corinne Quin, Random International, Raw Edges Design Studio, Nic Rysenbry, Jerszy Seymour, Bert Simons, Studio Glithero, Yuri Suzuki, Gregor Timlin, Noam Toran, Manel Torres, Maud Traon, Troika, Pablo Valbuena, Greetje van Helmond, Dominic Wilcox, Nick Williamson, Marei Wollersberger, Zaunka.

DISEÑO DE LA EXPOSICIÓN: Patricia Urquiola & Martino Berghinz
DISEÑO GRÁFICO: Fernando Gutiérrez

Aug 192008


Curated by Benjamìn Schultz-Figueroa & Brel Froebe

August 19th 2008, Light Industry


1.  One imagines there was a time when there was no separation between Animal and Human. Perhaps at this time Human is not even what we call a human, having no capacity for self-reflection. Human has not yet learned to distinguish or fabricate a hierarchy of life, and sees itself as an integrated part of its environment.

2.  Human learns from Animal. Human’s survival is directly affected by Animal and just as Human is left to the “whims” of the weather it is left to the “whims” of Animal. Human is still tied to an ecological system while simultaneously developing an awareness of this system and its workings. Animal is teacher, predator and prey.

3.  Human relates to Animal as Other. It defines itself by traits it sees in Animal, and, conversely, it assigns it’s own motives to the actions of the animals around it. This recognition of the aliveness and difference of animals establishes Animal as a resonator of Human’s own curiosities, fears, desires. Human creates elaborate myths, using Animal as characters, which explain Human’s identity and the workings/origins of the world around it.

4.  Human’s definitions push it to the top of a created hierarchy. Through it’s recognition of patterns, Human learns to utilize and take advantage of it’s surroundings, including Animal. Whereas before there existed a fluidity in definitions between Animal and Human, Animal is now resolutely banished to the realm of the lesser Other. Irrigation, practical domestication and reaping the fruits of the land are the new relations between Human and Nature. Nature becomes a fearsome opponent with which Human competes, gains and loses ground, and is consistently held at a distance. Animal is broken down into two pieces: domesticated (a tool) or wild (a threat.) With these two pieces come a string of other associations: good/evil, strong/weak, cute/ugly, pest/pet.

5.  Human develops technology to the point where Animal is no longer necessary for means of production, other than providing flesh. Through technologies of packaging, distribution, industrialization and representation, Human is now divorced from its means of survival. Animal now appears in Human’s world as a fetishized object in zoos, children’s toys, mass media and as household pets. Animal is trained, tortured or recreated to fit Human’s conceptions of it. As in an earlier stage where Human used Animal to define itself through myth, Human again defines itself through the image of Animal. Unlike this earlier period, Human now sets the rules; it creates and abstracts Animal to mirror it’s own narcissism, insecurities and self-obsession. The household pet is trained to mimic Human love, the zoo animal sanitizes the wild and the cartoon animal socializes Human’s children. The impala becomes a fast car, the panther becomes a sports team and the crocodile becomes plastic shoes.

6.  Just as Animal has found itself marginalized and mocked within civilization proper, Human has found itself placed in a similar position. It too has had its image and voice usurped, while its attempts at true expression are relegated to the lowest and outer levels of popular acceptance. Once the methods that have been utilized to explain, legitimize and justify a system of homogenization have been rejected, the marginalized Human/Animal  is left groping in an empty wasteland of meanings and definitions. The survival of Animal and Human as true autonomous beings is intimately connected. Urban animals survive by using the refuse of the world that is trying to destroy them and the marginalized Human must also create sustenance out of what is deemed trash. Through the destruction of the walls which confine Human and Animal from each other and the recognition of parallel needs, Human gains insight into it’s true position as yet another beast, unfit to live in the “human” world.

Bestaire– Chris Marker 9:04 min

ANIMANIMAL section 1 Brel Froebe 1:26 min

Red Bugs– Ted Passon 2:55 min

Consider the Horseshoe Crab– Chris Jolly 2:30 min

ANIMANIMAL section 2 Brel Froebe 2:06 min

Keeper– Ava Warbrick 4:03 min

Evolution Revolution– Jason Martin 2:15 min

ANIMANIMAL section 3– Brel Froebe 2:16 min

Monster Movie– Takeshi Murata 3:55 min

A Day in the Death– Andrew Strasser 3:26 min

UR SINE– Jesse Malmed 1:07 min

INTERMISSION? (Lets have a vote!)

ANIMANIMAL section 4– Brel Froebe 1:03 min

Rat Life in North America– Joyce Weiland 14 min

ANIMANIMAL section 5– Brel Froebe 2:04 min

Transmissions– Grey Gersten  4:30 min

Otaru– Sarah J. Christman 5:30 min

ANIMANIMAL section 6– Brel Froebe 3:09 min

Voodoo Politics– Benjamìn Schultz-Figueroa 9:42 min

Reptoid Schmeptoid (a song for the gods)– Chris Rice

Untitled– Harry Crofton 1:55 min

Cats Amore– Martha Colburn 2:30 min

Architecture of Necessity. – Ernesto Oroza 1:15 min.

Musical Performance by Willy Weird

Aug 122008

Little Havana Lamp shade. 2008

Little Havana Lamp shade. 2008
Milkcrate, cut.

Jun 102008

Object as Index: Ernesto Oroza in conversation with Gean Moreno

In Florian Borchmeyer and Matthias Hentschler’s lop-sided film Havana: The New Art of Making Ruins, 2006, Cuban writer António José Ponte, one of the protagonists, fires up his brain’s associative engine. Eruditely crossfading from Thomas Mann to Georg Simmel to Jean Cocteau, Ponte reveals himself a modem initiate in the ancient discipline of ruinology- like Walter Benjamin and Robert Smithson. One of the most interesting proposals he puts forth-interesting at least for those of us who know fantasy’s edges always cut across the real—is that Havana, the dilapidated Havana of today, is the result of the coming imperialist invasion on which the regime’s rhetoric has pivoted for decades. Waiting for this invasion, the city transformed itself into besieged territory. Haunted by its future destruction, the city destroyed itself.

Ernesto Oroza’s work seems to unfold against this kind of sweeping and romantic narrative. Instead of re-editing the establishing shots of a dilapidated Havana that have now become icons around the globe, 0roza is interested in the other Havana- the place that can be discerned in the quotidian textures of popular design and improvisational ingenuity, in the everyday transactions that take place in order to satisfy immediate needs. This Havana exists in the activities of its inhabitants, and functions almost as a foil to the other Havana, which we can no longer disassociate from grand historical trajectories.

Coming of age with the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Soviet subsidies that kept the island economically afloat, Oroza belongs to a generation of artists who emerged with the Special Period—Cuba’s deepest economic crisis. Unlike many of his peers, however, he wasn’t brought up through the island’s centralized system of art academies. Instead, he was educated as an industrial designer. Oroza eventually found in the artworld an accommodating context, after he shifted his interest from actually producing and designing artifacts to documenting the realities of the island as they manifest themselves in the objects created by lay folk attempting to better their lives.

Oroza’s background becomes important when one begins to consider the oddity of his project, in comparison to those of his peers in the Cuban artworld. Unlike them, he has never found a need to produce autonomous objects, self-contained sculptures or photographs. On occasion, he has said that he doesn’t really know how to put his resume together, considering that what would go in it—exhibitions—is but a small part of what he does, an offshoot of a project that has more to do with collecting and organizing information. He has always approached things with a documentarian’s eye. This is evident in the research projects that he has conducted, in the books that he has published, and in the photographic archives and collections of objects bought in the street that he has amassed. But it is also true of the individual, sculpture-like objects and videos that he often presents in exhibitions. They reproduce the logic of popular design enacted in every household in Cuba in the 199os, taking on an indexical quality, pointing to real socioeconomic conditions. In some ways, he is like the European conceptualists of the 1960s, who sought to develop materialist practices by representing what the world had to offer in order to articulate critical positions on the way things were. In this, a seemingly distant figure like Marcel Broodthaers may be more of a predecessor for Oroza—taking into account obvious contextual differences— than installation artists such as Lázaro Saavedra, Ricardo Brey, José Bédia, and Tonel, who launched a tradition which his peers are carrying on.

Gean Moreno: There is a discourse that revolves around Havana as a ruin, as what is left after certain historical processes have run their course. Your work refuses to contribute to this discourse and, instead, proposes that such a reading is applied from the outside, and that the city has its own internal history.

Ernesto Oroza: There are really two discourses that connect around the idea of the ruin while they stand ideologically opposed to one another. The first considers it necessary to return the city to its original functional and symbolic values. On one hand, it seems a criticism of the existing political system, whose inefficiency brought about the destruction of Havana. On the other, it is aligned with official interests insofar as it hands the city over to tourism, and reaps the benefits on the way. This is the position of architects and conservators.
The second notion of the city as a ruin comes from the outside. People see the city as kidnapped. Very little has been built, officially, in fifty years. As a result, the city represents the political system that was deposed in 1959. But this perception—of the city as a ruin—empties Havana of its inhabitants; it negates the efforts of families to make habitable a city whose population has grown without any official rise in housing capacity.
As such, in addition to an internal history, there is also a city that has grown inwardly. Families have found solutions to meet their needs. These adaptations have turned Havana into a continuum of internal transformations. The phenomenon is so widespread that we can speak of a familial urbanism, set in motion from every Cuban household. That is the city that interests me and that produces my work.

GM: This widespread phenomenon exists, then, at a quotidian level. Your interest lies in popular design that aims at the immediate betterment of living, responding to real-time needs, without historical pretence or institutional legitimization.

E0: Exactly. Let me explain the context. As I was finishing my studies in industrial design, Cuba entered the most profound economic crisis in its history, due to the fall of the Berlin Wall. Cubans understood that they would have to meet their own needs, as they lived in a country where the State owned all productive capabilities. Urgency placed the individual at the center of the country’s survival. People became aware of their real needs and were freed of prejudices and banalities.
Necessity has been stigmatized in Western culture. If you find yourself in need, you are considered weak. If you make demands to meet these needs, you are considered vulgar. Since the 1990s, Cubans have done violence to this stigma. Each object produced or solution discovered has been a statement of principle. I’ve called this state of awareness and freedom Statement of Necessity and what it produces Objects of Necessity.

As a cultural producer, I wasn’t spared those penurious conditions and I felt a part of the productive current that they engendered. I began to document the ideas and techniques that I saw everywhere. The objects produced at the time expressed provisionality, a utopian pragmatism that is quite paradoxical. We all thought that the crisis would end quickly and we decided to make provisional objects. These would substitute the ones that belonged to a time with a higher standard of living. They were objects that would disappear with the conditions that engendered them. I found it important to document them. These objects embody an ethics and a modesty that are the opposite of the ostentatious presumptions of innovation and transcendence that are pushed on us in design school.

GM: You said that you found it important to document the objects that were emerging in light of the conditions brought about by the economic crisis. This reminds me of a concept that you’ve used before: the object-documentary. An object that, like a film documentary, records an existing reality instead of inventing a new one—as traditional art objects presumably do.

E0: I became aware of the processes I was using. They became more interesting than any theme. All my recent production has followed one of two processes. The decorative documentary would be the first. I figured out that the placement of a series of collected objects in an art space complicates their documentary function without losing the value of the document altogether. I was attracted by the ambiguity between display and sculpture. A typical work, here, would be Untitled. Decorative Documentary, 2005, made of metal strainers. On the one hand, it is just a cold presentation of collected objects. On the other, it materializes an abstract sculpture that establishes a relationship with the space that houses it.
My interest in simulating materials like Stone and wood can also be seen to belong to this process. In this type of intervention, however, the space of the simulation—its support—is crucial. For instance, when I selected the visitors’ bathroom at the Ludwig Foundation of Cuba, and covered it with a simulation of wood—for which an expert was hired—I introduced vernacular taste and know-how into a legitimate art space. I also managed to make people disclose their repulsion for popular practices, with their inevitable reading of the bathroom as covered with excrement.
At the Ludwig, I also placed a collection of decorative objects that I purchased throughout the city. They functioned simultaneously as documents of a popular aesthetic production and as decor.
My other process is the multiple documentary: the placement of two or more documents on a single support. Disparate associations are established among the documents, allowing the information to be interpreted in unforeseen ways. Most difficult in this case is the choice of material to be documented, as I don’t want to start with a preconceived notion of how things will end up. For this reason, I turn one of the documents into the support by emphasizing some of its formal, physical, and conceptual traits. For my next project of this type, I want to juxtapose some staples of Cubans’ diet with the water and electricity conduit systems that they use to transform their houses. The tubes will be filled with the food.

GM: Your de-emphasis of the autonomous art object has allowed you to maintain an open practice. Along with objects and installations for exhibition, your work also consists of a series of researches that find their final forms in books, zines, lectures, photographic archives, and collections of objects. As such, your work is more a discursive field than a group of things.

E0: I work with disparate materials and information that I organize into diverse conceptual frameworks, such as books, displays, and even my own drawers. I’m more interested in developing systems to articulate the information that I process than in producing “definitive” works. I neither desire nor need to produce objects with the expected attributes of autonomy, authorship, originality, unity or physical limits, that is, the qualities intrinsic to the traditional artwork.
In fact, when my work is presented in traditional exhibition spaces, I appropriate interventionist logics from other disciplines, such as interior design and architecture. On occasion, I also use models and principles of production from the fields that I study, and extrapolate on them for my own practice. I am a pragmatist. Just as someone uses a telephone as a base for a rehabilitated fan, I use diagrams that others have created to illustrate phenomena foreign to my field in order to explain my ideas.
Such transaction allows the ethics, the phenomena, and the essence of the foreign field to seep into my work—this very stimulating. I don’t feel the need to define the limits or the Reading of my work. Only when it is at risk of being consumed does it assume a precise shape, but only to dissolve afterwards. It’s as if every one of its components always returned to its source.

2008. Moreno, Gean. “Object as Index: Ernesto Oroza in conversation with Gean Moreno” Art Papers, May/June p.24.

May 162008

Espacio provisional at Milwaukee International Art Fair 2008


The second Milwaukee International Art Fair arrived to the Polish Falcons beer hall, May 16-17, 2008. This location put amazing contemporary art from around the world against a backdrop of real old-world charm, in the midst of the quaint working-class Riverwest neighborhood. Strolling through the aisles provided a glimpse of new drawing, painting, video and sculpture while the sweet sounds of the Falcon Bowl rumbled up from the basement. The Falcon Bowl sports the 4th-oldest bowling alley in America, and for two days, possibly made the coziest art fair one could ever visit.

May 162008

Cintas Foundation Finalists Exhibition for the Emilio Sanchez Award in the Visual Arts, Miami, US.

Architecture of Necessity. Moral Modulor 1997-2012

Moral Modulor (from Architecture of Necessity: 1997-2008). 120 slides and cut, 2008
Updating City (theorem). Miami, 2008. Founded metal bars chairs and monobloc plastic chairs.


Moral Modulor (from Architecture of Necessity: 1997-2008). 120 slides and cut, 2008
Updating City (theorem). Miami, 2008. Founded metal bars chairs and monobloc plastic chairs.

Mar 122008

Updating City (theorem). Miami, 2008.
Founded metal bars chairs and monobloc plastic chairs.

Jan 122008

Studio Scrap Stools. Gean Moreno & Ernesto Oroza. 2008
Studio Scrap Stools are no-top no-bottom stools built out of scrap 2” x 4” studs that have collected in the studio. A zero-point edge is determined for each and the scraps are glue together at whatever lengths they already have. The pattern of the stools is determined by the scraps employed. Only the wood pieces used to determine the height are cut to size.