Rebellious and Playful Art
A conversation with Salvadorian artist, Simón Vega
It is of human nature to question our identity and we often associate who we are with where we come from. Our origins, our race, our traditions, and our heritage take a huge part in defining who we are and it manifests in the way we present ourselves to the world.
But there is something more to it... Traditional costumes, folk music, food- and so many other elements that make what we define as “culture” are a huge part of identity; but when external circumstances like wars and disasters destroy the majority of it, what makes us us? According to Simón Vega: little quirks.
Born in 1972 in El Salvador, Simón Vega creates drawings, objects, sculptural installations, and happenings inspired in local markets and vendor carts found in the streets and beaches of Central America. He parodies Space Stations, Mayan pyramids, iconic buildings, and surveillance systems, creating an ironic and humorous fusion between first and third worlds.
In a phone call with him, we talked about the story behind his visually impressive installations and the journey that led him to become a successful Central American Artist. He shared his creative process and the way he finds the materials that go into his pieces. Most importantly we talked about the relevance of not fitting into any mold.
What elements of Salvadorian culture work as inspiration to create your pieces?
Identity and environment. Conceptually I start from a historical point of view. Everything from politics, our Pre-hispanic past, and our contemporary reality. I work with everything related to Mesoamerica but with a particular focus on El Salvador and Central America. Visually I love to work with everything that has a kitsch aesthetic: floral tablecloths, materials that can only be found in marginal regions, street vendors… all of these elements nurture my work.
Tell us about your Space Stations project.
Tropical Space is based around the Cold War, this competition between the USA and the USRR to see who could reach space first. Most of the current problems El Salvador faces today can be traced back to this period of history: migration, diaspora, political problems, the rise of maras, and street gangs. Our Civil War came to be because of everything that happened between the 1950s and the 1980s.
I talk about war not in a literal way but as a confrontation. My art has a social theme to it but I don’t want it to be heavy or bloody; on the contrary, I want to showcase the humor that characterizes our culture. It’s like an inside joke. A global conflict with “funny” elements.
People at El Salvador make old things work, we are not a firstworld country and we will never be, we are “wanna-be’s”. So in a way it is showing what we could’ve done with our lack of resources. We are inventive, creative, humanistic. We are of a rebellious playful nature.
The capsules I create are based on real ones by NASA or the USRR but with technology applied the way marginal zones would have done it. I try to speak about what we could have been by talking about our identity and problems in a not so literal way.
Tell us a bit more about this duality that you talk about in your pieces. First world countries vs third world countries.
When I started working on Ciudades Perdidas I was thinking a lot about the many realities that are lived in different places of the world. I started questioning the notion of “first world” and ‘third world” and how the phrase “third world” has a bad connotation but in reality, it makes sense to say it because they literally feel like two different worlds.
If I brought someone over from Vienna to the most marginal regions of El Salvador they would feel in a different world, or if someone from a rural community was entering a palace in Europe it would seem like a different planet to them. These dualities are even experienced within the same country and in us so I think it is important to reference them.
What do you look for when searching for the materials?
Materials play a leading role. We build from scrap, from what is considered waste. I always look for pieces that reflect “a lack of” and that tell a story. They need to have a life of their own. Metal scraps with lettering on them, broken and scraped pieces, etc. They need to show they come from somewhere. Plants also play an important part.
I remember when we set up the Installation piece at Coachella. I sent over the blueprints and a team built a wood structure to be covered with scraps. When I arrived they had already covered it with new, shiny metal so we had to take it apart. It was impossible to find scraps so we had to physically damage the sheets and just make it work. Europe is especially hard for finding metal sheets because they are legally required to get rid of everything that oxidizes. Now, whenever I set up in these places I carry a suitcase with the materials I will need. It is quite funny to explain why I am carrying suitcases full of trash every time I enter the USA.
I also live by the beach with total freedom and have a close relationship with the sea, whenever I see plastic I try to take advantage and use it.
What playlist sounds in the background when you are working?
Playlists are a little tricky now that Spotify is constantly showing us new music. At the moment I am into slow Cumbia inspired by the movie “Ya no estoy aquí”. Also, Anciento Molina had a special relationship with El Salvador. I also listen to chicha, reggae, and dub versions of them. DJs who get this vibe. I am really into “jahtari”, a mix of dub with Atari and video game sounds. Songs that put me in a good mood in general. I love surf music, everything from the 50s to the Australian movement and Ty Seagal.
Tell us a bit about the work you do with Y.ES Contemporary.
Y.ES is a platform built to introduce Central American artists to the international market and to nurture them with what is happening in the rest of the art world.
Now I am working with them as an art curator, guiding emerging artists and helping them build connections. I went from being a beneficiary to working for them and helping other artists by creating a studio visit program that feeds them and gives them a global perspective.
Do you think in recent years there has been a change in how LATM art is perceived?
Yes, the change started around 25 years ago with the luminarias as part of the modernism movement. It took a while for it to get into museums because of it being marginalized. There was no real understanding or value in what was happening. Only countries like Mexico and Brazil had a chance because they are at the top of Latino countries while countries in Central America and the Caribbean are easily forgotten.
What I find most interesting is that artists in Central American countries don’t really feel like making it in the occidental world is relevant. They don’t feel they have to get their work to a gallery in NYC to be successful. Triumph in the systematic world is not the only option. If the occidental world is choosing not to pay attention to what is hidden then it is their loss.
Pablo León de la Barra said that LATM countries are changing the art business because they are not interested in fitting in and Walter de Minolo was really working towards decolonization and removing the idea of creating because of what Europeans want to see from us. The reality is, this is who we are and we do not need to fit in and that validates Latin American art even more.
El Salvador doesn’t really get a chance to explain its culture, we lost our roots because of everything that we went through but because of that: we are who we are. This is what we have and it might be broken and poorly made but that makes it cool because it is different and special. This is us and it has its charm.