The series of singular materials that make up the sculptures of Estefania Puerta highlight the unexpected connection between language, biomorphism and antiquity.in a diptych Luz/Helena (all works 2023), aluminum foil covers two raised spirals that mirror each other. Symmetry is ubiquitous in nature (here the shapes resemble snails and seashells), but it is also worshiped by many indigenous cultures, such as the ancient Andes. Puerta also incorporates a subtle homage to the mountains of her native Colombia, using volcanic rocks from El Herre Nevado Herre Del Herr Ruiz. These volcanic rocks, along with mugwort, are housed in a pair of insets and can be seen through stained glass. Each of these natural elements has spiritual properties and medicinal properties. Here they are embedded in reliquary-like receptacles, making them both precious and mysterious.
References to the body, especially the female anatomy, appear in several works.of Solterra In (Unmarried Woman), two foamy teardrop shapes resemble ovaries, and quail eggs, plants, and strands of the artist’s hair are displayed in small capsules. Grabbing the edges of the object and wrapping around the composition are thin silver fingers with long black claws. Is it beckoning the viewer to come closer, or is it warning them to keep their distance?
Like a thorn through hard skin that doesn’t know if it’s open or broken It oscillates between looking like a welcoming hug or a mutated Venus flytrap. A small photograph of the artist’s lips during a speech is pasted onto the rough-hewn slate and periwinkle-colored appendages that extend from the central armature. Puerta’s frozen mouth image conveys both urgency and futility, which may speak to the artist’s challenge to be heard as an American immigrant and as a woman, but ultimately ambiguous and ambiguous. It is. Physically compact but conceptually expansive, the work, like the rest of the exhibition, is as enchanting as it is macabre.
— Jeanne Guerriti
