Nora Patrich: voice of struggle
By Penny Cholmondeley, The Ubyssey, and Vancouver (cup)
This is not false modesty. When Nora Patrich speaks, you know she is sincere. The artist who painted the brilliant, sensous murals in SFU’s Multi-Purpose Complex is graceful and relaxed, and her words seem carefully measured. She radiates a subdued energy. For a woman whose life and art have been described as “extraordinary,” this is not entirely surprising.
Identity is important to Patrich. She describes herself as both a Canadian and an Argentinian artist, as part of Vancouver’s Latin American community but also independent of it. Activist, artist, woman-she is all of these things, but none of them separately.
Many of her paintings depict women who appear strong, earthy, and beautiful. Like Patrich, their eyes seem to draw you into their thoughts.
“I like to work with becoming conscious of what’s around me, and I think as a woman, a lot of the times we find ourselves immersed in realities that we’re not really aware of,” she says.
Environment has had an immeasurable impact on the development of her art. In 1998, Patrich and her husband, artist Juan M. Sanchez, were the subject of filmmaker Cindy Leaney’s documentary My Art Will Rise Up and Speak. The film chronicles their involvement as artists in protests in Argentina during the 1970s. For Patrich, who’s first husband and six other family members were killed by the Argentina Junta during the “Dirty War,” the experience was not always an easy one.
Much of the filming was done in Argentina and it was the first time Patrich returned with all of her three children. In the end, she saw the experience as a healing process for her and her family.
“It was quite stirring… quite moving for all of us,” Patrich says quietly. “I had never really dreamed that I would ever go-be able to go back with the kids.”
Patrich became interested and involved in politics at a young age, protesting the poor social and political conditions bred under Argentina’s fascist military regime. She doesn’t believe you can ever have art without politics. Even non-involvement is a political stance.
“Thinking is dangerous, and that’s when art becomes dangerous… when you’re taught to think, to be creative, and when that happens, you’re going to be able to solve problems.”
Whether she is working on a mural or on a canvas, Patrich wants the spirit of her work to move beyond herself. If an artist brings their own experiences to their work, then so does their audience.
“What we want is that our art speaks for us. To me they [my paintings] need to keep on speaking whether I’m here or not.”
As a result, what her work says to people in Argentina is different from what it says to Canadians. For a woman concerned with exploring identity, this is something of an enigma.
“I have to go to Argentina for people to say how Canadian my art is,” she says, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight grin. “Any article you see [about me] is going to say I’m an Argentina artist, but I’ve been a Canadian for 12 years.”
She finds this almost as funny as she does disturbing. Canadians are too interested in cataloguing art according to a very narrow criterion of “Canadian identity.” Patrich tries to avoid categorization. As much as she supports equal opportunities for all people, she is concerned about marg-inalization.
“I don’t believe in ghettos,” she states firmly. “I don’t think I should be supported separately because I am Latin American or a woman.”
She fights against what she sees is a prevalent attitude: that the Third World has to do with mediocrity. “Being from Latin America, or any other Third World country, you’re expected to do ‘Third Worldish’ things,” says Patrich seriously. “And when you don’t, people feel very uncomfortable.”
According to Patrich, this is because the Canadian art scene is more concerned with clinging to the past than it is with supporting new ideas and constructions. Put bluntly, Canadian art is in danger of becoming stagnant. Blame globalization, says Patrich. In the new “global” economy, art equals money and art equals business, but when does art equal expression?
The hypocrisy of the situation bothers Patrich. The “anything goes” attitude she sees in artists today would never be acceptable in a doctor or a lawyer.
“It’s quite a decadent situation, where you don’t need to know how to paint and draw, you just get a toilet and hang it upside down and call that art.” Likewise, the lack of interaction in the Canadian art world saddens Patrich. She takes a long pause before saying “I think artists here are quite isolated… and the only way a culture grows or is created is when there is communication.”
That said, Patrich speaks out on issues that she feels affect humanity. In 1994 she was presented with the Mosaic award for her contributions to the defense of human rights. She has worked with various women’s groups, with street youth and has been a foster parent. She is frequently a speaker at conferences and gatherings that address issues of community and identity.
“Historically in Argentina women have had a very strong political influence,” she says proudly. “It’s really quite a phenomenon.”
It fits that a woman with such a solid sense of humanity and of justice should have strong women as her mentors. “My first inspiration was Juana Azurduy. She was a Lieutenant Colonel in 1810 in the Argentina army… Her husband was under her command and she was very much feared and respected. She had four kids and she lost all four kids during the war.” Patrich seems to identify with her strengthand with her ability to survive despite suffering and obstacles.
“Another mentor was Evita,” she adds quickly and then says laughing, “being from Argentina, I can’t help that!”At times Patrich seems unaware of the dramatic impact her own work can have on people. She recalls a moment when she was reminded of that impact.
“I was at a public fair [in Argentina] with my art and two women came up to me and asked me if I was Nora and they shook my hand,” she says, her eyes drifting as if she is transporting herself back to that time and place.
“They walked away and I heard them talking with each other… you could tell they were housewives from the outskirts of the city, they were not people who would go to an art show or anything like that… and one woman said to the other, `it was really an honour for me to come all the way out here to meet her’…”
Patrich stops and shakes her head as if in disbelief. “It was like `whoosh!’ All of a sudden I felt like I was flat on the floor and realized the responsibility that I had.” She says that experiences like these “haunt” her and amplify her already strong desire to demand more from herself. Beyond her principles and her politics, in Patrich’s art and actions there is a message of inspiring self-actualisation.
“That moment where all of a sudden, this little light comes on…” she pauses, then smiles contentedly. “I like to paint that moment.”
