"Mundaréu"
The multiple narratives that Froiid weaves while conceiving this exhibition — which is not just a physical space, but also an emotional, mental, and imaginary one — are deeply rooted in Brazilian popular culture. Together, they create a space for living and leisure, for play and trickery. The artist invokes a predominantly male universe, where gambling and addiction coexist, as do leisure and competition, luck and misfortune. We enter Mundaréu and are instantly involved through the open invitations to play. We enter Mundaréu and are surrounded by an amalgamation of eclectic sounds. We enter Mundaréu and thus become part of an affectionate tribute to the shared spaces of the working class. With a nod to the writer, actor, journalist, and playwright Plínio Marcos (1935-1999) and his "Histórias das quebradas do mundaréu" (1973), Froiid connects football and billiards, politics and artificial intelligence, icons and popular sayings.
At the entrance, 20 flags in 5-meter bamboo poles are displayed in a row, making up the "Sapo de Fora não ronca" (2022) artwork, which also includes a sound box placed on the street that broadcasts recordings of football games and chants, as well as the drums from hooligan firms. The colors and patterns of the flags correspond to emblems of local soccer clubs. Three board games are scattered throughout the entrance area, ready to be used. These "Petelecos" are derived from football fields and bear titles such as "Cabeça de área," "Zona do Agrião," or "Ai o bambu quebrou no meio," alluding to the cutout shapes of the boards and the asymmetries that favor one side. Two photographic prints multiply the movies "La mano de Dios" (Maradona, World Cup, 1986) and "Drible da Vaca" (Pelé, World Cup, 1970) creating geometric patterns in black and white, accompanied by videos of the respective plays in a loop. Maradona's historic goal for Argentina, which he dubbed as a symbolic revenge against England due to the Falklands War (1982), and Pelé's historic non-goal for Brazil, named ‘the goal that wasn't but should have been’. These two idols occupy legendary, mythical spaces that appeal to the collective imagination of the people.
The center of the gallery is occupied by a 13-meter-long red billiard table entitled "É hora da onça beber água" (2020), inspired by the billiard table paintings of the American artist and photographer Man Ray (La Fortune, 1938 and 1973), the Dutch painter Van Gogh (Le Café de nuit, 1888), and the African American painter Jacob Lawrence (Pool Parlor, 1942). The table’s legs hide speakers that amplify the sounds of the game through microphones installed across the entire surface. Thus, the cue play sounds are always amplified, especially when the balls fall into the pockets. By elongating the table and using the color red, the artist not only accentuates a particular political imagery, but also creates space for inclusivity and social cohesion. The exaggerated length of the table metaphorically extends the leisure time while monumentalizing the game and the joyful interactions. Froiid also references the paintings of Brazilian samba singer-songwriter, and painter, Heitor dos Prazeres, who portrayed life in the favelas, with young people dancing and playing, often with their heads and eyes turned upwards. The title of the work is an expression that indicates a dangerous moment – when the jaguar drinks water as night falls, the other animals are on alert.
Around the table, four abstract paintings, reminiscent of the straight lines of Piet Mondrian, serve as frames where people can tally their game wins with chalk. The existing lines will guide the audience into finding unusual ways of marking and writing. Ten frames in "Na mão do calango 1 to 10" represent impossible billiard plays drawn in green billiard fabric. The same fabric is also used in the paintings of the "Tríptico com silhuetas", which is directly taken from the painting "Jogo de Sinuca" (1963) by Heitor dos Prazeres. The frames are engraved with the phrases "Não me inveje, trabalhe", "O olho do dono que engorda o boi," "A língua é o chicote do corpo." With the use of popular slang, the form and content of the works become rooted and intertwined in mass culture, while the expressions themselves are closely analyzed, thus creating new meanings for it. Following that same idea, a series of paintings use iconic imagery appropriated by truck drivers and motorcyclists to embellish their vehicles.
A sofa next to a wall of speakers invites visitors to listen to "O pulo do gato" (2023), a sound installation with luminous signs, made in collaboration with Brazilian rapper, Matéria Prima. The verses and beats are remixed into an infinite stream that has its code visible on LED screens. It alludes to tuning practices and aesthetics, with the work also being a tribute to rap, infinite creativity, and the musical genius of artists.
The exhibition ends with a photograph depicting a sand football field. We only see its corner. A stone marks its corner, while the limits are drawn with chalk. An open bag of chalk is lying on the ground, and the lines are already blurred, mixed in with the sand, as a consequence of the game that took place. The strength of the photograph lies in how it manages to encapsulate the dreamy and competitive spirit of so many children and teens that have limited access to things. In the game, anything is possible – just a little chalk, and the sand field turns into a real football field. The power found within this gesture is too great to fit into a photograph making it extend to the surrounding space.
Mundaréu is a generous place to be lived in, played, and inhabited. Through spatial choreography, the physical side and corporeality of interaction are conveyed, as well as a proud, committed, and challenging posture. It's a place to dream, but also to remember those who lived lives of social and racial oppression, finding resistance in sharing and in interpersonal relationships. With this living room, marked by its identitarian characteristic, Froiid unfolds free time and calls on us to come closer to each other, to not lose physical social networks, and to appreciate the depth and richness of popular knowledge.
Ana Salazar Herrera
