Lot Essay
My most important works (are those)…which I am now doing, because it is work achieved through maturity, knowledge, and greater ability to resolve problems.
--Francisco Zuñiga, 19801
It was the 19th Century master, Auguste Rodin, who envisioned that the viewer should come to know art through the invitation to walk among larger-than life-size bronze sculptures placed low to the ground, to be viewed at eye-level—at the time not something well accepted. Rodin imagined his sculptures “mixed with the daily life of the town: passersby would have elbowed them, and they would have felt through this contact the emotion of the living past in their midst.”2 With that in mind, when Rodin proposed his Burghers of Calais in 1884 to the commissioning city council, “They thought I was mad…statues without a pedestal! Where had that ever been seen before?” he commented.3 But of course, the ancient Olmecs stood eye-level with the colossal heads, the Toltecs walked among carved warrior columns, the Maya erected carved stelae in the earth, and reclining chacmool figures, whether Toltec, Maya, Aztec, or other, set upon the ground.4 Indebted both to ancient Mesoamerican and modern European sculptors, Zúñiga too offered the viewer a phenomenological experience, as evidenced by the inviting Coloquio.
Coloquio was a sculpture, decades in the making. Zúñiga explained that he would continue to rework a theme or composition until he exhausted it or found something that attracted him more.5 Perusing Volume I of the artist’s Catalogue Raisonné, one can see the development of Coloquio over some thirty years from maquette to perfection. The idea of a “coloquio” (dialogue or exchange) between two women, emerged as early as 1948 with the small clay sculpture “Two Seated Women,” which was angular, simplified, and leaning towards Henry Moore in its geometric treatment; “Two Seated Women” resurfaced in 1955 in more ample, organic forms now sculpted in plaster. The artist then re-examined the theme in a commanding watercolor from 1959 indebted to Paul Cézanne’s Large Bathers (1898-1905) in its imposing approach to form. Zúñiga further developed this motif in 1977 in the mid-size pairings of Coloquio, Coloquio II and Coloquio III, culminating in this major outdoor bronze masterwork, Coloquio, a highly naturalistic and emotive achievement.6
Zúñiga captured a dynamic, yet quiet and timeless moment of exchange between two female companions, making a universally understood statement of camaraderie, empathy, and friendship, while also offering a regional statement within the context of his oeuvre; the viewer can read the artwork both as human communion—the give and take of everyday interaction between two human beings—while perhaps also gleaning, more specifically, Zúñiga’s homage to the native Mayan women of the Yucatan on the Eastern peninsula of Mexico. Working long-term with a few models during his career, the receptive figure with arms resting overhead can be recognized as the focused, pensive Yucateca bronze of 1980, while the active, forward-leaning woman of Coloquio is Zúñiga’s model Domitila, who is the Yucateca sentada of 1975/1976.7 Together, the women emit a relaxed, generous, comfortable, confident and open sharing of women’s wisdom and knowledge.
This sculpture is a synthetic, signature work that combines the artist’s long study of pre-Columbian form, Colonial Marian imagery, and “by Zúñiga’s own admission, an array of modern European sculptors including Auguste Rodin and his teacher Antoine Bourdelle, Constantin Brancusi, Alexander Archipenko, Edgar Degas, Aristide Maillol, Jacques Lipchitz, Henri Matisse, and Ossip Zadkine.”8 Aware of his calling from a young age, Zúñiga learned his craft from his father, Manuel María Zúñiga, a santero, carver of santo religious figures in his native San José, Costa Rica. In addition to this early apprenticeship, he briefly studied drawing at the Academia de Bellas Artes de Costa Rica as a teenager, while repeatedly winning first and/or second place in sculpture and painting at the annual National Fine Arts competitions from 1929-32. His discovery of pre-Columbian art at age twenty, specifically that of the local Chorotega and Huetar Indians, would be key in his stylistic development. This fascination with the ancient Mesoamerican material production only grew once he moved to Mexico City in 1936 as he enjoyed long visits to the National Anthropology Museum in its old location on Calle Moneda. His move brought new opportunities: mentoring from painter Manuel Rodriguez Lozano, a job as assistant to sculptor Oliverio Martinez, followed by Guillermo Ruiz, and finally securing a teaching position at La Esmeralda (Escuela Nacional de Pintura, Escultura y Grabado) in 1939.
Coloquio belongs to Zúñiga’s highly productive decade of the 1970s when, upon retirement in 1971 following a long, fulfilling teaching career, the sculptor could at last fully dedicate his time and focus to his studio practice. A work to be integrated into, experienced, and enjoyed in the public realm, Coloquio indeed embodies that maturity, knowledge, and state of resolution that the artist could recognize in his work at the time that he cast it.
Teresa Eckmann, Associate Professor of Contemporary Latin American Art History, University of Texas at San Antonio
--Francisco Zuñiga, 19801
It was the 19th Century master, Auguste Rodin, who envisioned that the viewer should come to know art through the invitation to walk among larger-than life-size bronze sculptures placed low to the ground, to be viewed at eye-level—at the time not something well accepted. Rodin imagined his sculptures “mixed with the daily life of the town: passersby would have elbowed them, and they would have felt through this contact the emotion of the living past in their midst.”2 With that in mind, when Rodin proposed his Burghers of Calais in 1884 to the commissioning city council, “They thought I was mad…statues without a pedestal! Where had that ever been seen before?” he commented.3 But of course, the ancient Olmecs stood eye-level with the colossal heads, the Toltecs walked among carved warrior columns, the Maya erected carved stelae in the earth, and reclining chacmool figures, whether Toltec, Maya, Aztec, or other, set upon the ground.4 Indebted both to ancient Mesoamerican and modern European sculptors, Zúñiga too offered the viewer a phenomenological experience, as evidenced by the inviting Coloquio.
Coloquio was a sculpture, decades in the making. Zúñiga explained that he would continue to rework a theme or composition until he exhausted it or found something that attracted him more.5 Perusing Volume I of the artist’s Catalogue Raisonné, one can see the development of Coloquio over some thirty years from maquette to perfection. The idea of a “coloquio” (dialogue or exchange) between two women, emerged as early as 1948 with the small clay sculpture “Two Seated Women,” which was angular, simplified, and leaning towards Henry Moore in its geometric treatment; “Two Seated Women” resurfaced in 1955 in more ample, organic forms now sculpted in plaster. The artist then re-examined the theme in a commanding watercolor from 1959 indebted to Paul Cézanne’s Large Bathers (1898-1905) in its imposing approach to form. Zúñiga further developed this motif in 1977 in the mid-size pairings of Coloquio, Coloquio II and Coloquio III, culminating in this major outdoor bronze masterwork, Coloquio, a highly naturalistic and emotive achievement.6
Zúñiga captured a dynamic, yet quiet and timeless moment of exchange between two female companions, making a universally understood statement of camaraderie, empathy, and friendship, while also offering a regional statement within the context of his oeuvre; the viewer can read the artwork both as human communion—the give and take of everyday interaction between two human beings—while perhaps also gleaning, more specifically, Zúñiga’s homage to the native Mayan women of the Yucatan on the Eastern peninsula of Mexico. Working long-term with a few models during his career, the receptive figure with arms resting overhead can be recognized as the focused, pensive Yucateca bronze of 1980, while the active, forward-leaning woman of Coloquio is Zúñiga’s model Domitila, who is the Yucateca sentada of 1975/1976.7 Together, the women emit a relaxed, generous, comfortable, confident and open sharing of women’s wisdom and knowledge.
This sculpture is a synthetic, signature work that combines the artist’s long study of pre-Columbian form, Colonial Marian imagery, and “by Zúñiga’s own admission, an array of modern European sculptors including Auguste Rodin and his teacher Antoine Bourdelle, Constantin Brancusi, Alexander Archipenko, Edgar Degas, Aristide Maillol, Jacques Lipchitz, Henri Matisse, and Ossip Zadkine.”8 Aware of his calling from a young age, Zúñiga learned his craft from his father, Manuel María Zúñiga, a santero, carver of santo religious figures in his native San José, Costa Rica. In addition to this early apprenticeship, he briefly studied drawing at the Academia de Bellas Artes de Costa Rica as a teenager, while repeatedly winning first and/or second place in sculpture and painting at the annual National Fine Arts competitions from 1929-32. His discovery of pre-Columbian art at age twenty, specifically that of the local Chorotega and Huetar Indians, would be key in his stylistic development. This fascination with the ancient Mesoamerican material production only grew once he moved to Mexico City in 1936 as he enjoyed long visits to the National Anthropology Museum in its old location on Calle Moneda. His move brought new opportunities: mentoring from painter Manuel Rodriguez Lozano, a job as assistant to sculptor Oliverio Martinez, followed by Guillermo Ruiz, and finally securing a teaching position at La Esmeralda (Escuela Nacional de Pintura, Escultura y Grabado) in 1939.
Coloquio belongs to Zúñiga’s highly productive decade of the 1970s when, upon retirement in 1971 following a long, fulfilling teaching career, the sculptor could at last fully dedicate his time and focus to his studio practice. A work to be integrated into, experienced, and enjoyed in the public realm, Coloquio indeed embodies that maturity, knowledge, and state of resolution that the artist could recognize in his work at the time that he cast it.
Teresa Eckmann, Associate Professor of Contemporary Latin American Art History, University of Texas at San Antonio