Another chapter in The Red Masks of Montevideo that explores the culture of Uruguay is Candombe, set in two decades: the 1930s and 1890s, respectively. In it, the hero, Uruguayan artist Pedro Figari, looks back on his life as an artist and returns to the place in Montevideo, Barrio Sur, that inspired him artistically.
A LIFE OF MANY TALENTS
Pedro Figari was born in Montevideo, in 1861. He spent his early life as a lawyer, and only painted in his spare time. A great deal of his career at this time was taken up as a legal representative to the poor people of his native city, mainly the Afro-Uruguayans. Once he had enough money, though, he trained under a professional artist called Godofredo Sommavilla. Later, after his marriage, Figari went to France. In Europe, he was immediately influenced by post-impressionism and its artists, which were to have a great influence on him as and his art in the future. After returning to Uruguay some years later, Figari went into journalism while also involving himself in politics, even becoming a member of the Uruguayan parliament. He also participated in the establishment of Montevideo’s Escuela de Bellas Artes. It wasn’t, however, until the early 1920s that Figari was able to focus solely on his art, his first love.
LEITMOTIF
Figari’s paintings have a naiïve, somewhat earthy substance to them, and not that from the brush of a professionally trained painter — and this may be true to some extent. Though, this, of course, does not take away the ‘simple beauty they portray’. Figari painted from memory, for the most part, and the themes of his work go back to the times when he was a young lawyer in the poorer barrios of Montevideo. Dancing, and particularly the Candombe, a dance and musical style originating from the negro barrios of the city — was, without doubt, his artistic leitmotif. That was why, out of a strong will to create a chapter which amalgamated two important pieces of Uruguayan culture, I found inspiration to write Candombe.
HUMILITY
As a chapter, it is a sad one, no doubt. One that creates the longing for what was, what has passed, and will never be again. The pull of nostalgia is strong, and though it is only a fictional piece of literature, it feels like — for me at least — it could’ve possibly happened. Figari’s humility, as well as his love for his people, has survived the passing of time. His art is a testament to that. If, when you look at the series of paintings Candombe or any other and do not feel the energy that the brush strokes present, you definitely do not appreciate a genius at work.