The prospect of considering writing as an infinite line, as a texture on paper or even as an anonymous carving on furniture resonates in the works of Ulises Mazzucca, presented in the exhibition Gimnasia espiritual [Spiritual Gymnastics]. In his ouvre, a biography is a drawing, writing is a calligram and words are the expression of anonymous urban life. So, is writing, ultimately, a kind of gymnastics? In this exercise, as in Greco’s work, the relationship between writing and biography is primarily articulated through experience, the source of a calligraphy that is at once intimate, collective and relational.

Following this direction and allowing ourselves to be carried along with it, the expansive and infectious gaze proposed by Greco also unfolds throughout the museum; there are resonances, echoes and signs of it in the artworks and exhibitions that can be visited in the different spaces of the museum. The works of Cotelito’s Vuelvo como un jardín después del invierno [I Return Like a Garden After the Winter] and Diana Aisenberg’s Mística robótica en la economía de cristal Mystical Robotics in the Crystal Economy] transform architecture and spaces through painting or the accumulation of objects. From this perspective, Nicanor Aráoz’ large-scale installation made especially for his exhibition Sueño sólido [Solid Sleep] conceptualizes the room as a territory that rekindles concern for human beings’ sensitivity in view of the brutal reality of the present. It points out the tensions and dissolutions between the real and the virtual, between nature and human actions as a declaration of a compromise with the present. A concrete manifestation of this compromise is the interest in partying (in the exhibition, a jukebox randomly plays vintage music). Festivities, then, are a ritual in which a community event is held wherein art manifests itself more as a way of engaging the world than as an attempt to provide answers.

Elian Chali’s Plano inesperado [Unexpected Plane] also functions along the same lines; in his intervention on the façade of the museum, he presents an elastic geometry that is capable of blurring the limits between the interior (the museum) and the exterior (the city). The artist considers his gestures to be like the points of an urban acupuncture treatment that tries to alleviate the pain so that the city can appear in all its splendour, reactivating circulation and sparking movement. If the aforementioned artworks approach their capacity to transform contexts and spaces through permeability, the opposite is true of Elda Cerrato’s work, which is presented in El día maravilloso de los pueblos [The People’s Wonderful Day]. Here, zones are delineated using geometric shapes, maps and crowds that point out precise realities and reveal to us both the specific Latin American context, as well as other planes that exceed material reality. These works, together with the actions Greco proposed, are an invitation to a permanent agitation of the senses that encourages an attentive contact with the everyday: movement, people, time, places, smells, conversations, situations. It is an impulse that makes art a way of teaching us to see again, to perceive the real as the true adventure.