AS AVENTURAS DE QUALQUER COISA - ANDRÉ RUIVO
150 x 100 mm, 40 pages, printed on IOR Premium 135 gr paper.
Stolen Books // Published September 2018
This André Ruivo’s book does not repeat the 29,5 x 41 cm format of «Portraits», (2017). «The adventures of something» just repeats the portraits that would be taken and then printed, in a 10x15 format. Not really «portrait»-portraits but more «landscape» portraits. Landscapes that see the city as a stand for big shoes, some policemen, some scoundrels, a few dreamers. «Wait and you will see».
Urban landscapes with more or less dialogic beings, some lost but others, sometimes, found by those they did not wish. Extravagant beings just because they wonder and then forget the question asked. Like in «Mistery Park» (chili com carne, 2012), light and disturbed, from London. But, this time, with a schizophrenic pantone like someone who has already been at the beach ((«O Campo à Beira-Mar», 2015, animated film) or to the circus («O Circo», 2017, animated film).
André Ruivo insists and conquers a unique space that is only his but visual borders stretching – a space, therefore, his readers recognize. It is a comprehensive and always muting space. As if images and words longed for a constant metamorphosis that the author imposes.
joão eduardo ferreira
And so, suddenly, there are three ways to look at these drawings and all things reveal its incompleteness. Initially, each seems to develop new episodes of the life philosophy of Herman Melville’s Bartelby, the scrivener. Bartelby was a hero by absence, refusing the do all the requested talks, repeating, as a magic formula: “I would prefer not to”. Bernardo Soares is not far from it.
Nevertheless, André Ruivo’s characters, with a self-destructive and deceptive sense of humour, are moving characters. So being, they are closer to the logic of urban dromology of Baudelaire’s flâneur. But they wander in an empty city, and not one full of people, a Sunday city and not an anonymous Boulevard or a Nevsky crowded street. In these drawings there is also a Pop drift: in the colours, the human bodies, the gesture’s theatricality, its props, the city’s buildings… everything indifferently perspectived, geometrized or planned, everything exclusively garish and musically rhythmic– memories of a certain and psychedelic submarine.
Finally, in these drawings, it seems as if nothing is going on. Or almost nothing. Or nothing important. There is, after all, something. We can even tell very important things are going on.