Past Exhibition

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Pan duro - Pedro Déniz

June 10, 2016 - August 12, 2016
Pedro Déniz

Works

PAN DURO - Pedro Déniz, 2016<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="639824B9D7DD6D095168105A15C2BF5F" title="Send inquiry"></span><span class="add_to_cart tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="right" data-id="639824B9D7DD6D095168105A15C2BF5F" title="Add to cart"></span>
PAN DURO - Pedro Déniz
PD/B 978393585/5181
2016
25.00 €
Norte - Su - Este y Oeste, , 2004 - 2005<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="905F13D63B5E75B74D08000CF5B4D4A1" title="Send inquiry"></span>
Norte - Su - Este y Oeste,
2004 - 2005
El pozo, , 1998<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="22C3EFA56EF4A40E292EE0413852F0C9" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Like a deep well is a hermit. It is easy to throw in a stone: but if it should sink to the bottom, tell me, who will bring it out again?<br />
<br />
Friedrich Nietzsche – Thus Spoke Zarathustra, From the Bite of the Adder<br />
<br />
Bottles, the letter A, a key, a few sticks, and a ball – over time, these objects collected deposits of sediment that had sunk to the bottom of the well, through the water. The work El Pozo (The Well) is the foundation, a glance back in time to where it all began. The well itself is in the form of a round object that is covered with red felt and hung on the wall. The artist retrieved the items from the bottom of the well and brought them to the surface for the viewer, spreading them out before the wall. All of these objects are also covered with the same felt, and in doing so, Pedro Déniz plays with different levels of perception. For the artist, this work reflects the sediment of his creative work. In this piece, everything that can be found again as symbols in his later works is already laid out. El Pozo is an inner reflection inspired by the poetry of Nietzsche.</div>
El pozo,
1998
Like a deep well is a hermit. It is easy to throw in a stone: but if it should sink to the bottom, tell me, who will bring it out again?

Friedrich Nietzsche – Thus Spoke Zarathustra, From the Bite of the Adder

Bottles, the letter A, a key, a few sticks, and a ball – over time, these objects collected deposits of sediment that had sunk to the bottom of the well, through the water. The work El Pozo (The Well) is the foundation, a glance back in time to where it all began. The well itself is in the form of a round object that is covered with red felt and hung on the wall. The artist retrieved the items from the bottom of the well and brought them to the surface for the viewer, spreading them out before the wall. All of these objects are also covered with the same felt, and in doing so, Pedro Déniz plays with different levels of perception. For the artist, this work reflects the sediment of his creative work. In this piece, everything that can be found again as symbols in his later works is already laid out. El Pozo is an inner reflection inspired by the poetry of Nietzsche.
Encuentro, , 2016<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="A7C229FE206EFC8D98D8881F75DD72C7" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Encuentro (Encounter) addresses the topic of communication across language barriers. In this case, art functions as the location of communication and secondly, also as something that generates community and connects people. A furniture suite in the gallery’s inventory served as the artist’s source material for the installation. It constitutes the central element of the installation, it invites the visitors to stay for a moment, and is placed on a carpet of dried leaves. When the viewer walks across it, every step causes the leaves to rustle softly. This draws the viewer’s attention, tempting him to walk more slowly and to become fully aware of the situation. If the viewer allows himself to settle down in one of the armchairs covered in green velvet, he notices that the table in the middle of the arrangement is covered with a thin layer of salt. People can use their fingers to draw in this layer of salt, allowing it to serve as a communication aid when language barriers get in the way of exchanging ideas through words.</div>
Encuentro,
2016
Encuentro (Encounter) addresses the topic of communication across language barriers. In this case, art functions as the location of communication and secondly, also as something that generates community and connects people. A furniture suite in the gallery’s inventory served as the artist’s source material for the installation. It constitutes the central element of the installation, it invites the visitors to stay for a moment, and is placed on a carpet of dried leaves. When the viewer walks across it, every step causes the leaves to rustle softly. This draws the viewer’s attention, tempting him to walk more slowly and to become fully aware of the situation. If the viewer allows himself to settle down in one of the armchairs covered in green velvet, he notices that the table in the middle of the arrangement is covered with a thin layer of salt. People can use their fingers to draw in this layer of salt, allowing it to serve as a communication aid when language barriers get in the way of exchanging ideas through words.
Pan duro, , 2016<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="6769F4E225CA5C7EAF0C6B476185F345" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>A bunny as a pet! Something that is normal for us, but initially filled Pedro Déniz with amazement. Rabbits are also kept in Gran Canaria, however, there they live in stalls and are used as an ingredient in the local cuisine. At first it was a bizarre concept for the artist that these fluffy little animals could be a child’s best friend or might even live in a cage in someone’s apartment. That’s how the bunny rabbits, in the form of porcelain replicas, made their way into his installation Pan Duro (Hard Bread). There they are pulling a ladder on wheels… an allegory for life?</div>
Pan duro,
2016
A bunny as a pet! Something that is normal for us, but initially filled Pedro Déniz with amazement. Rabbits are also kept in Gran Canaria, however, there they live in stalls and are used as an ingredient in the local cuisine. At first it was a bizarre concept for the artist that these fluffy little animals could be a child’s best friend or might even live in a cage in someone’s apartment. That’s how the bunny rabbits, in the form of porcelain replicas, made their way into his installation Pan Duro (Hard Bread). There they are pulling a ladder on wheels… an allegory for life?
Esfera pública, , 2002<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="F7BE03A97B9E1E9C9702590AB3570167" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Esfera Pública (Public Sphere) likewise directs our view to inequality in the field of education. However, in this case, it is primarily about the kind of education that is enabled by the internet. With a black globe and a white globe, Pedro Déniz creates an image that functions with a minimalistic and severely reduced visual language, yet at the same time is symbolically highly-charged. The black globe is once again painted in a slate color produced in China. The artist wrote North and South at the poles in binary code, comments that are meant to visualize – like the black and white contrast – the inequality of access to the internet and thus also to the democratization of knowledge.</div>
Esfera pública,
2002
Esfera Pública (Public Sphere) likewise directs our view to inequality in the field of education. However, in this case, it is primarily about the kind of education that is enabled by the internet. With a black globe and a white globe, Pedro Déniz creates an image that functions with a minimalistic and severely reduced visual language, yet at the same time is symbolically highly-charged. The black globe is once again painted in a slate color produced in China. The artist wrote North and South at the poles in binary code, comments that are meant to visualize – like the black and white contrast – the inequality of access to the internet and thus also to the democratization of knowledge.
Gesto y memoria, , 2002<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="9940157594B5E01DDF7844DDA04821EE" title="Send inquiry"></span>
Gesto y memoria,
2002
Castración, , 2002<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="E4D06B02B578B47627CBA673A0CE7B34" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Discernido (Discerned) and Castración (Castration) function similarly to surrealist objects. The obtain their poetry and thus also their substance by the surprising juxtaposition of things that normally have nothing to do with each other. These unusual combinations unleash narrative chains of associations that are far from our customary mode of causal thinking. Because the artist removes the things from their ordinary contexts, he makes them free for new and different interpretations. Thus the content normally associated with them remains far from any rhetoric.</div>
Castración,
2002
Discernido (Discerned) and Castración (Castration) function similarly to surrealist objects. The obtain their poetry and thus also their substance by the surprising juxtaposition of things that normally have nothing to do with each other. These unusual combinations unleash narrative chains of associations that are far from our customary mode of causal thinking. Because the artist removes the things from their ordinary contexts, he makes them free for new and different interpretations. Thus the content normally associated with them remains far from any rhetoric.
Discernido, , 2002<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="33D35E2E43851EF95C792DA648652DD9" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Discernido (Discerned) and Castración (Castration) function similarly to surrealist objects. The obtain their poetry and thus also their substance by the surprising juxtaposition of things that normally have nothing to do with each other. These unusual combinations unleash narrative chains of associations that are far from our customary mode of causal thinking. Because the artist removes the things from their ordinary contexts, he makes them free for new and different interpretations. Thus the content normally associated with them remains far from any rhetoric.</div>
Discernido,
2002
Discernido (Discerned) and Castración (Castration) function similarly to surrealist objects. The obtain their poetry and thus also their substance by the surprising juxtaposition of things that normally have nothing to do with each other. These unusual combinations unleash narrative chains of associations that are far from our customary mode of causal thinking. Because the artist removes the things from their ordinary contexts, he makes them free for new and different interpretations. Thus the content normally associated with them remains far from any rhetoric.
Diversificación, , 2002<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="978B83E02B72DA04690A87A84D4EC680" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>The statements made by this installation "Diversificación" are visually condensed in additional objects that also bear the title Diversificación, but are in fact independent works. In them, one finds objects in bottles that touch upon the same message either materially or conceptually, for example pieces of chalk. Each bottle is filled with content that transports a certain significance on a material level. Thus, the chalk evokes the association with education and schooling, yet in light of the knowledge about installation discussed previously, the viewer will also immediately think about the unequal distribution of opportunity in our globalized world.</div>
Diversificación,
2002
The statements made by this installation "Diversificación" are visually condensed in additional objects that also bear the title Diversificación, but are in fact independent works. In them, one finds objects in bottles that touch upon the same message either materially or conceptually, for example pieces of chalk. Each bottle is filled with content that transports a certain significance on a material level. Thus, the chalk evokes the association with education and schooling, yet in light of the knowledge about installation discussed previously, the viewer will also immediately think about the unequal distribution of opportunity in our globalized world.
Territorio, , 2003-2004<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="ECC8193FDAE4AAAE6EC9CDEB9B8EDA35" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>I love Gran Canaria! The souvenir vendors advertise their island with this slogan. It can be found on almost everything that a tourist could possibly bring home as a memento, such as small ceramic camels. For Pedro Déniz, the slogan is used in scorn, because even as it is used to sell the love of his home, nevertheless his home itself is destroyed in the process. Territorio is a provocative statement about a devastating forest fire. Unknown arsons were the cause of this catastrophe. The artist wandered through the devastated area and anywhere that he came across glass bottles, he filled them with soil from the site they were found. Subsequently, he urinated on the site in order to “mark” it and he also photographically documented the entire action. He placed the bottles on the ceramic camels’ humps in place of the typical terms of endearment mentioned above, creating unsettling new objects with this juxtaposition.<br />
<br />
In the presentation of this work, five of the “Statement Camels” are placed on red shelves. Again, here the red color functions as a signal to highlight the importance of the topic. Two photos are hung above each of the objects – one photo of the bottle at the site where it was found, and one that shows the artist urinating on the site. This results in both a temporal and contextual connection that presents a more comprehensive image of this environmental tragedy. Yet Pedro Déniz would not be Pedro Déniz if he didn’t strengthen the effectiveness of the piece, even in this case, by bringing an irrepressible smirk to our faces. He walks a tightrope at the borderline of good taste, and hits a nerve as a result.</div>
Territorio,
2003-2004
I love Gran Canaria! The souvenir vendors advertise their island with this slogan. It can be found on almost everything that a tourist could possibly bring home as a memento, such as small ceramic camels. For Pedro Déniz, the slogan is used in scorn, because even as it is used to sell the love of his home, nevertheless his home itself is destroyed in the process. Territorio is a provocative statement about a devastating forest fire. Unknown arsons were the cause of this catastrophe. The artist wandered through the devastated area and anywhere that he came across glass bottles, he filled them with soil from the site they were found. Subsequently, he urinated on the site in order to “mark” it and he also photographically documented the entire action. He placed the bottles on the ceramic camels’ humps in place of the typical terms of endearment mentioned above, creating unsettling new objects with this juxtaposition.

In the presentation of this work, five of the “Statement Camels” are placed on red shelves. Again, here the red color functions as a signal to highlight the importance of the topic. Two photos are hung above each of the objects – one photo of the bottle at the site where it was found, and one that shows the artist urinating on the site. This results in both a temporal and contextual connection that presents a more comprehensive image of this environmental tragedy. Yet Pedro Déniz would not be Pedro Déniz if he didn’t strengthen the effectiveness of the piece, even in this case, by bringing an irrepressible smirk to our faces. He walks a tightrope at the borderline of good taste, and hits a nerve as a result.
Lecturas, , 2002<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="264C7BAEF1E9674B1CCAB78B9B3AE2A4" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Lecturas (Readings) further intensifies the division of the world in black and white. Once again, there are slate panels that refer to the exploited workers without opportunities for education or upward mobility. With bitter irony, the artist traces their life journeys on several of the panels, attached to each other like a fanfold. The little sticker labels on the panels are taken from the signage of our daily surroundings, yet as key words they also represent different stages in life. Starting with “prohibida la entrada” (entry prohibited), passing through the empty sign after “dirección” (direction), all the way to “caja” (cash desk) and “salida” (exit), these words refer to the hopelessness and empty fatalism of a life that could have developed completely differently under better circumstances.</div>
Lecturas,
2002
Lecturas (Readings) further intensifies the division of the world in black and white. Once again, there are slate panels that refer to the exploited workers without opportunities for education or upward mobility. With bitter irony, the artist traces their life journeys on several of the panels, attached to each other like a fanfold. The little sticker labels on the panels are taken from the signage of our daily surroundings, yet as key words they also represent different stages in life. Starting with “prohibida la entrada” (entry prohibited), passing through the empty sign after “dirección” (direction), all the way to “caja” (cash desk) and “salida” (exit), these words refer to the hopelessness and empty fatalism of a life that could have developed completely differently under better circumstances.
Mochila 0.1, , 2007<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="010A0056C6E999CDD0B02D7AD7E36EFE" title="Send inquiry"></span>
Mochila 0.1,
2007
Diversificación, , 2002<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="1EC4878E48FF231F1BD80A89E12D7E64" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Two matte black, waist-high platforms, painted in a slate color, provide a rounded enclosure for a small writing desk, which stylistically could originate from the time of the Spanish Inquisition. The seat has a hole with a small basket of glass marbles embedded in it. On the desk, next to the slate panels, there is a chalk stylus in the form of a penis. Additional slate panels, with zeros and ones written on them, binary code, have been placed on the wall across from the desk. On the one hand, the composition of the objects exudes provocation due to the allusion to sexuality. On the other hand, it offers a very formally balanced, reduced, and aesthetically appealing image as a whole. Going beyond the purely visual quality, the content of the installation can also be comprehended when the title and the material are more closely examined. <br />
<br />
“Diversificación” (Diversification) is a term from LOGSE (Ley Orgánica General del Sistema Educativo), a Spanish education law from the year 1990. It was designed to expand the range of educational opportunities. However, the term also appears in economics, where it denotes the expansion of options or of the product range. Pedro Déniz takes advantage of this ambiguity and uses it in order to direct our attention to an absurd paradox in a globalized society. The installation clearly visualizes a classroom. The parenthesized desk symbolizes the educational system as a whole. The artist once again plays with the amalgamation of language and image in that he allows the parentheses to become the sculpture.  <br />
<br />
With their dark and powerful presence, the artist would like to direct our gaze to the black color and the slate panels. Underprivileged Chinese children produced them so that privileged children on the other side of the world could learn how to read and write with them. (The artist lived in Tangier, Morocco, for a long time, where it is still common practice today – as opposed to the schools in Germany – to use small slate boards in class.) Through knowledge, the children gain a certain potency, because knowledge is always power as well. That explains why the piece of chalk is in the form of a phallus – it symbolically represents this potency.</div>
Diversificación,
2002
Two matte black, waist-high platforms, painted in a slate color, provide a rounded enclosure for a small writing desk, which stylistically could originate from the time of the Spanish Inquisition. The seat has a hole with a small basket of glass marbles embedded in it. On the desk, next to the slate panels, there is a chalk stylus in the form of a penis. Additional slate panels, with zeros and ones written on them, binary code, have been placed on the wall across from the desk. On the one hand, the composition of the objects exudes provocation due to the allusion to sexuality. On the other hand, it offers a very formally balanced, reduced, and aesthetically appealing image as a whole. Going beyond the purely visual quality, the content of the installation can also be comprehended when the title and the material are more closely examined.

“Diversificación” (Diversification) is a term from LOGSE (Ley Orgánica General del Sistema Educativo), a Spanish education law from the year 1990. It was designed to expand the range of educational opportunities. However, the term also appears in economics, where it denotes the expansion of options or of the product range. Pedro Déniz takes advantage of this ambiguity and uses it in order to direct our attention to an absurd paradox in a globalized society. The installation clearly visualizes a classroom. The parenthesized desk symbolizes the educational system as a whole. The artist once again plays with the amalgamation of language and image in that he allows the parentheses to become the sculpture.

With their dark and powerful presence, the artist would like to direct our gaze to the black color and the slate panels. Underprivileged Chinese children produced them so that privileged children on the other side of the world could learn how to read and write with them. (The artist lived in Tangier, Morocco, for a long time, where it is still common practice today – as opposed to the schools in Germany – to use small slate boards in class.) Through knowledge, the children gain a certain potency, because knowledge is always power as well. That explains why the piece of chalk is in the form of a phallus – it symbolically represents this potency.
That's all, , 2003<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="B62CDBE9E6BF8890EEED4448C199519D" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>That’s all we have – is that all we have? Pedro Déniz interrogates these two terms in his installation That’s All Folks. The slogan comes from the cartoon series Looney Tunes from Warner Brothers, with Bugs Bunny. At the end of every episode, he appears and proclaims: “That’s all, folks.” The frame that surrounds the expression corresponds with the Warner Brothers’ logo and is placed together with two other similar frames that instead contain mirrors, all three of which are placed in a circle of coal. Coal as the foundation of a thriving economy – this concept becomes the image. We as viewers are a part of this economic system, as is made unmistakably clear by the mirrors. At the same time, it is also up to us not to dismiss the delicate questions concerning renewable resources.</div>
That's all,
2003
That’s all we have – is that all we have? Pedro Déniz interrogates these two terms in his installation That’s All Folks. The slogan comes from the cartoon series Looney Tunes from Warner Brothers, with Bugs Bunny. At the end of every episode, he appears and proclaims: “That’s all, folks.” The frame that surrounds the expression corresponds with the Warner Brothers’ logo and is placed together with two other similar frames that instead contain mirrors, all three of which are placed in a circle of coal. Coal as the foundation of a thriving economy – this concept becomes the image. We as viewers are a part of this economic system, as is made unmistakably clear by the mirrors. At the same time, it is also up to us not to dismiss the delicate questions concerning renewable resources.
Power Line, , 2003<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="90B1B9CCD89D3496AA5B04CC7FA39A38" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Pedro Déniz’s social commentary is just as ironic yet deeply profound in his work Power Line, which also deals with the power of the market. The saw as a symbol of power is placed in an absurd relationship with a mobile phone in a toy shopping cart. Who is sawing off whose branch, one may instinctively ask, and who is the accomplice, helping use this saw which can only be handled by two people? When viewing this work, it opens up more questions than it answers, and in doing precisely that, it achieves its goal – it encourages us to contemplate, it gives us “key words” in the form of the objects that are displayed, and in this case, gives us free rein to see in which direction our thought processes develop.</div>
Power Line,
2003
Pedro Déniz’s social commentary is just as ironic yet deeply profound in his work Power Line, which also deals with the power of the market. The saw as a symbol of power is placed in an absurd relationship with a mobile phone in a toy shopping cart. Who is sawing off whose branch, one may instinctively ask, and who is the accomplice, helping use this saw which can only be handled by two people? When viewing this work, it opens up more questions than it answers, and in doing precisely that, it achieves its goal – it encourages us to contemplate, it gives us “key words” in the form of the objects that are displayed, and in this case, gives us free rein to see in which direction our thought processes develop.
Red House, , 2007/2014<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="6C7244C9E535049587416E7CBA9DE8C4" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>The Red House deals with layers of perception or layers of truth. Which reality is truer, the subjective, empirically tangible reality or the seemingly objective reality portrayed by the media? In the form of an interactive installation, the Red House lends the viewer a feeling of the divergence between these realities. The exterior of the house is covered with newspapers from various countries, reporting on the war in Iraq. They are glazed over with red paint. The general function of the color is to be understood as a signal, the color of warning; it shows that this deals with a subject that demands one’s utmost attention. The viewer enters the dark and cozy interior of the house by crossing over a carpet of dried leaves that rustle with every step. In the middle of the house, there is a monitor with a film showing the artist eating dinner with friends. At this point, the viewer has passed through three layers of reality: the media in the outer area, the artist’s reality inside the house, and one’s own reality, which the viewer finds himself situated within and which he has become more aware of through the rustling leaves and the scent of the forest. This poses the question: which of these realities do we truly experience consciously, which would we rather filter out, and how much are we affected by a reality that we ourselves only experience indirectly through information?</div>
Red House,
2007/2014
The Red House deals with layers of perception or layers of truth. Which reality is truer, the subjective, empirically tangible reality or the seemingly objective reality portrayed by the media? In the form of an interactive installation, the Red House lends the viewer a feeling of the divergence between these realities. The exterior of the house is covered with newspapers from various countries, reporting on the war in Iraq. They are glazed over with red paint. The general function of the color is to be understood as a signal, the color of warning; it shows that this deals with a subject that demands one’s utmost attention. The viewer enters the dark and cozy interior of the house by crossing over a carpet of dried leaves that rustle with every step. In the middle of the house, there is a monitor with a film showing the artist eating dinner with friends. At this point, the viewer has passed through three layers of reality: the media in the outer area, the artist’s reality inside the house, and one’s own reality, which the viewer finds himself situated within and which he has become more aware of through the rustling leaves and the scent of the forest. This poses the question: which of these realities do we truly experience consciously, which would we rather filter out, and how much are we affected by a reality that we ourselves only experience indirectly through information?
Desplazamientos, , 2007/2014<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="A67184BCCB60BF3BA0E7D6BB8E0CE353" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Amor (love), apoyo (help), esperanza (hope), distancia (distance), búsqueda (searching) – <br />
these terms describe what undocumented immigrants hope for, what they dream of, what they wish for. Seemingly commonplace words, which we often take completely for granted, assume a completely different weight in this context. They are only a few examples from the installation Desplazamientos (Displacements), which Pedro Déniz completed in cooperation with the Mexican artist Gabriela Léon. They requested that undocumented immigrants send them key words about their personal experiences and their hopes. These words, along with the names of the immigrants, were embroidered onto sleep masks. The artists intentionally chose the motif of the sleep mask in order to demonstrate how often we are blind to the reality of others and how little empathy we often have. The video particularly emphasizes this aspect; in it, the two artists put on and take off the sleep masks in synchronization. When they have the sleep masks on, as a logical consequence, they cannot read the embroidered word. Additionally, in the background, from offstage, two voices each speak a language that they have not mastered, thereby also revealing the counterpart’s linguistic misunderstanding.<br />
<br />
Conceptually sophisticated, but at the same time adhering to the reduced aesthetic that is common in the work of Pedro Déniz, Desplazamientos depicts universal human needs. Simultaneously, a core element of the installation is the clash between different worlds: the affluent society as the antipode to those fleeing from poverty and hopelessness, political persecution, or violated rights. With this juxtaposition, the artist also confronts us with the question of empathy, of becoming aware of the situation of the other, of the immigrant.</div>
Desplazamientos,
2007/2014
Amor (love), apoyo (help), esperanza (hope), distancia (distance), búsqueda (searching) –
these terms describe what undocumented immigrants hope for, what they dream of, what they wish for. Seemingly commonplace words, which we often take completely for granted, assume a completely different weight in this context. They are only a few examples from the installation Desplazamientos (Displacements), which Pedro Déniz completed in cooperation with the Mexican artist Gabriela Léon. They requested that undocumented immigrants send them key words about their personal experiences and their hopes. These words, along with the names of the immigrants, were embroidered onto sleep masks. The artists intentionally chose the motif of the sleep mask in order to demonstrate how often we are blind to the reality of others and how little empathy we often have. The video particularly emphasizes this aspect; in it, the two artists put on and take off the sleep masks in synchronization. When they have the sleep masks on, as a logical consequence, they cannot read the embroidered word. Additionally, in the background, from offstage, two voices each speak a language that they have not mastered, thereby also revealing the counterpart’s linguistic misunderstanding.

Conceptually sophisticated, but at the same time adhering to the reduced aesthetic that is common in the work of Pedro Déniz, Desplazamientos depicts universal human needs. Simultaneously, a core element of the installation is the clash between different worlds: the affluent society as the antipode to those fleeing from poverty and hopelessness, political persecution, or violated rights. With this juxtaposition, the artist also confronts us with the question of empathy, of becoming aware of the situation of the other, of the immigrant.
Kóctel molotov, , 2003<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="BBCB316A986785A53E7DC1878FF3B338" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Pedro Déniz uses the bottle explosively and perhaps questionably in his Serie Kóctel Molotov (Molotov Cocktail Series). As in the case with the work La Puente, the bottle is a mode of communication here as well, however, of communication on the level of violence and brutality. In contrast to the content of the piece, there is the highly aesthetic formal appearance of the bottles filled with strings of lights. The critical layer of meaning is first revealed by the title. From a symbol of hope in a shipwreck, the bottle here turns into a symbol of the hopelessness of conflicts that appear only to be able to be solved through violence. We as visitors are tripped up by the tension that arises between the work and the title, and by our own perceptions. With the insight that the piece is not merely an aesthetically pleasing light concept, but instead that it concerns such highly explosive firebombs, this is followed by the realization that we at first allowed ourselves to be manipulated. One can extrapolate this to a meta level, and the work once again triggers the question of what we know and what we are made to believe.</div>
Kóctel molotov,
2003
Pedro Déniz uses the bottle explosively and perhaps questionably in his Serie Kóctel Molotov (Molotov Cocktail Series). As in the case with the work La Puente, the bottle is a mode of communication here as well, however, of communication on the level of violence and brutality. In contrast to the content of the piece, there is the highly aesthetic formal appearance of the bottles filled with strings of lights. The critical layer of meaning is first revealed by the title. From a symbol of hope in a shipwreck, the bottle here turns into a symbol of the hopelessness of conflicts that appear only to be able to be solved through violence. We as visitors are tripped up by the tension that arises between the work and the title, and by our own perceptions. With the insight that the piece is not merely an aesthetically pleasing light concept, but instead that it concerns such highly explosive firebombs, this is followed by the realization that we at first allowed ourselves to be manipulated. One can extrapolate this to a meta level, and the work once again triggers the question of what we know and what we are made to believe.
Ofrenda, , 2003<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="00DC3A3C927C352F217603095CCB3D6C" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>What do an Arabic Coca-Cola advertisement, a bundle of parsley, and an empty bottle have in common? Nothing, unless one follows Pedro Déniz’s chain of association in order to find, in the end, that there is a lot connecting these things, and that combining them can generate an image that seems to be downright bursting with sheer critically loaded content. Ofrende (Offering) cites symbols of consumption, of work, but also of the political consequences of the capitalist system. The board with the Arabic Coca-Cola ad, intelligible worldwide since it is distributed worldwide, embodies the idea of consumption in its purest form. Next to the board, there are two shelves mounted on the wall, made out of books dealing with the Cold War and the subject of espionage. One of the shelves bears a Coke bottle filled with a string of lights, which, in the world of Pedro Déniz, is the equivalent of a molotov cocktail. On the other bookshelf, there is a jar with a bundle of fresh parsley placed on it. The parsley alludes to the topicality of the subject presented here if the parsley is still fresh and green. Moreover, in Spain, parsley is also an offering presented to Saint Pancras of Rome, the patron saint for work and health. The work in its entirety is an ironic commentary by the artist on consumer society. Not conclusively decipherable, yet still full of associations and allusions, the work is captivating precisely because of its conceptual openness.</div>
Ofrenda,
2003
What do an Arabic Coca-Cola advertisement, a bundle of parsley, and an empty bottle have in common? Nothing, unless one follows Pedro Déniz’s chain of association in order to find, in the end, that there is a lot connecting these things, and that combining them can generate an image that seems to be downright bursting with sheer critically loaded content. Ofrende (Offering) cites symbols of consumption, of work, but also of the political consequences of the capitalist system. The board with the Arabic Coca-Cola ad, intelligible worldwide since it is distributed worldwide, embodies the idea of consumption in its purest form. Next to the board, there are two shelves mounted on the wall, made out of books dealing with the Cold War and the subject of espionage. One of the shelves bears a Coke bottle filled with a string of lights, which, in the world of Pedro Déniz, is the equivalent of a molotov cocktail. On the other bookshelf, there is a jar with a bundle of fresh parsley placed on it. The parsley alludes to the topicality of the subject presented here if the parsley is still fresh and green. Moreover, in Spain, parsley is also an offering presented to Saint Pancras of Rome, the patron saint for work and health. The work in its entirety is an ironic commentary by the artist on consumer society. Not conclusively decipherable, yet still full of associations and allusions, the work is captivating precisely because of its conceptual openness.
Grandes Reservas, , 2005<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="21B0D73D78877C5F95EBFD39DDF66BA3" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Communication and its fallacies are also dealt with in Grandes Reservas (Great Reserves). The symbol of the pointed ellipse appears here once again. In addition to the associations that were already discussed at the outset, Pedro also sees it as a shield, a leaf, a ship from above, or an abstracted depiction of an injury. It is open for a variety of interpretations and already embodies numerous potential meanings. The artist offers various associations, yet does not allow it to be bound to one specific definition, instead inviting the viewers to explore the spectrum of semantic content on their own. <br />
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In the middle of the red almond-shaped mural, bottles have been mounted on the wall. They have been filled with industrial felt and their exterior has been printed with phrases that are reminiscent in formulation and composition of those printed on cigarette boxes. The felt in the bottles has been relieved of any sort of functionality, it cannot protect the bottles from breaking and thus alludes to the irony of the messages printed on them. They say: “Sensitivity is very addictive, don’t start feeling” or “Your doctor and your chemist can help you stop thinking.”</div>
Grandes Reservas,
2005
Communication and its fallacies are also dealt with in Grandes Reservas (Great Reserves). The symbol of the pointed ellipse appears here once again. In addition to the associations that were already discussed at the outset, Pedro also sees it as a shield, a leaf, a ship from above, or an abstracted depiction of an injury. It is open for a variety of interpretations and already embodies numerous potential meanings. The artist offers various associations, yet does not allow it to be bound to one specific definition, instead inviting the viewers to explore the spectrum of semantic content on their own.

In the middle of the red almond-shaped mural, bottles have been mounted on the wall. They have been filled with industrial felt and their exterior has been printed with phrases that are reminiscent in formulation and composition of those printed on cigarette boxes. The felt in the bottles has been relieved of any sort of functionality, it cannot protect the bottles from breaking and thus alludes to the irony of the messages printed on them. They say: “Sensitivity is very addictive, don’t start feeling” or “Your doctor and your chemist can help you stop thinking.”
Hilvanes / Suturas, , 2005<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="4E9C860EA69E48F94AB410C56340AE6E" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>Hilvanes / Suturas (Stitching / Sewing) works with pictograms, or symbols that convey information using a simplified graphic representation. Pictograms generally function even when communication becomes difficult due to language barriers. Here they have been embroidered onto little red canvases and they tell a story like a comic book, but only the beginning and the end of the story are predetermined. The hanging of the rest of the canvases varies from exhibition to exhibition. Thus, a different plot emerges each time. The symbols represent existential experiences in human life, so the life journey that is depicted varies depending on their arrangement.</div>
Hilvanes / Suturas,
2005
Hilvanes / Suturas (Stitching / Sewing) works with pictograms, or symbols that convey information using a simplified graphic representation. Pictograms generally function even when communication becomes difficult due to language barriers. Here they have been embroidered onto little red canvases and they tell a story like a comic book, but only the beginning and the end of the story are predetermined. The hanging of the rest of the canvases varies from exhibition to exhibition. Thus, a different plot emerges each time. The symbols represent existential experiences in human life, so the life journey that is depicted varies depending on their arrangement.
Tránsitos, , 2007<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="32EBB84D1CECD06DA3274660FB4606B8" title="Send inquiry"></span>
Tránsitos,
2007
Preposiciones, , 2003<span class="inquiry_icon tooltipped" data-toggle="tooltip" data-placement="left" data-id="F556CC4288C5A6A662876A54F4C2DCC5" title="Send inquiry"></span><div   class='description'>With the rising flood of media, the ever-swelling sea of data, and the increasing global linkage of interests, it is also becoming all the more important to critically analyze media. In particular, with mobile phones and the internet, we are now interconnected as a media society like never before. Information can be spread within the blink of an eye, yet at the same time, the total amount of information is rising, and the potential to spread targeted messages is increasing as well. How do we know if we can really believe what we read? Especially when it comes to conflicts of interest, who is to say that we are not subject to targeted manipulation?<br />
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In his work Preposiciones (Prepositions), Pedro Déniz deals with precisely this question of media coverage, especially the selective range of information. With surreal objects and a pinch of humor, he visualizes the fact that it has become more important than ever before to reflect upon what news we consume, especially in such an interlinked world.  As the title “Prepositions” already implies, the artist places certain “relationships” under the microscope, since prepositions are, in terms of grammar, small words that put other words in relation to one another, thereby providing a certain kind of spatial or temporal link. At first glance, the bizarre juxtaposition of these things can be surprising. A cellular phone spends its well-earned vacation on a tacky plastic island, a brick made out of newspapers is fitted with spurs, another is being led on a leash, a funnel sits on a bottle upside-down, and another telephone takes the place of a canary in a birdcage. When observing these disparate combinations of objects, what crosses one’s mind is the “accidental encounter, on a dissecting table, of a sewing machine and an umbrella” as the credo of the surrealist aesthetic’s rejection of rationality. Yet in contrast to the surrealist idea of revolt against bourgeois norms, for Pedro Déniz the main goal is to prompt critical reflection. Thus, these objects are also puzzles that can be and should be deciphered by the viewer. These examples also show just how much the artist incorporates the viewer into his work. If we do not actively participate through contemplation, the work does not function as intended. <br />
When we get involved in the puzzles and begin to decode the pieces, only then can the full meaning begin to unfold.<br />
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The fact the Pedro Déniz doesn’t shy away from controversial topics is demonstrated in the five wall panels covered in newspapers and painted turquoise – all of the newspapers used in this work report on the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11th, 2001. The number and form of these panels corresponds to the columns of a standard newspaper. The aforementioned objects have been placed on small shelves in front of each of these “columns.” Against the backdrop of the newspaper clippings, an unexpected horizon of meanings opens up. For example, the cellular phone on the island can be understood as a symbol of our isolation within the vast sea of data. Similarly, the telephone in the birdcage deals with the fact that communication is not free from censorship.</div>
Preposiciones,
2003
With the rising flood of media, the ever-swelling sea of data, and the increasing global linkage of interests, it is also becoming all the more important to critically analyze media. In particular, with mobile phones and the internet, we are now interconnected as a media society like never before. Information can be spread within the blink of an eye, yet at the same time, the total amount of information is rising, and the potential to spread targeted messages is increasing as well. How do we know if we can really believe what we read? Especially when it comes to conflicts of interest, who is to say that we are not subject to targeted manipulation?

In his work Preposiciones (Prepositions), Pedro Déniz deals with precisely this question of media coverage, especially the selective range of information. With surreal objects and a pinch of humor, he visualizes the fact that it has become more important than ever before to reflect upon what news we consume, especially in such an interlinked world. As the title “Prepositions” already implies, the artist places certain “relationships” under the microscope, since prepositions are, in terms of grammar, small words that put other words in relation to one another, thereby providing a certain kind of spatial or temporal link. At first glance, the bizarre juxtaposition of these things can be surprising. A cellular phone spends its well-earned vacation on a tacky plastic island, a brick made out of newspapers is fitted with spurs, another is being led on a leash, a funnel sits on a bottle upside-down, and another telephone takes the place of a canary in a birdcage. When observing these disparate combinations of objects, what crosses one’s mind is the “accidental encounter, on a dissecting table, of a sewing machine and an umbrella” as the credo of the surrealist aesthetic’s rejection of rationality. Yet in contrast to the surrealist idea of revolt against bourgeois norms, for Pedro Déniz the main goal is to prompt critical reflection. Thus, these objects are also puzzles that can be and should be deciphered by the viewer. These examples also show just how much the artist incorporates the viewer into his work. If we do not actively participate through contemplation, the work does not function as intended.
When we get involved in the puzzles and begin to decode the pieces, only then can the full meaning begin to unfold.

The fact the Pedro Déniz doesn’t shy away from controversial topics is demonstrated in the five wall panels covered in newspapers and painted turquoise – all of the newspapers used in this work report on the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11th, 2001. The number and form of these panels corresponds to the columns of a standard newspaper. The aforementioned objects have been placed on small shelves in front of each of these “columns.” Against the backdrop of the newspaper clippings, an unexpected horizon of meanings opens up. For example, the cellular phone on the island can be understood as a symbol of our isolation within the vast sea of data. Similarly, the telephone in the birdcage deals with the fact that communication is not free from censorship.