In Conversation with Costa Rican Artist Collective ‘Puente’; ‘This Must Be Paradise’.

A tale of friendship, community, and a sense of belonging, Costa Rican artist collective ‘Puente’ opened its first exhibition, ‘This Must Be Paradise’, in London to great acclaim. I spoke with the exhibition’s curator Daniela M. Barboza following the opening evening last Tuesday, a night of laugher, enlightening discussions, and captivating art. What follows is a moving insight into Daniela’s vision, curatorial process and the talented Costa Rican artists that have come together for this exhibition.

Image credits: Puente.

Can you tell us a bit about your background and how you got to where you are today?

I was born and raised in San Jose, Costa Rica - the place that I owe so much of my sense of self to. In that very place - which I have the privilege to call home - a series of experiences led to a decision that changed my life forever: I was going to leave it. Leaving became synonymous with opportunity, growth and change but also came with a series of suitcases that I was not aware of; nostalgia, alienation and melancholy. It was clear to me that leaving was a sacrifice I was willing to take in order to follow my mission in life: to show the world - London for now - the potential that the Costa Rican artistic community has.

I am here today because of a place and a feeling but also, because of the people that have crossed my path and believed in me. My mother, who has been by my side and has always said: “if you do what you love, you will always be successful”. She does not have a relationship with art, but that is the reason why I am the person that I have become - she did not have the answers, I had to find them. My family, who have supported me endlessly and my high school art teacher, Rosene Haigh, who always encouraged me and my peers to study Costa Rican artists.

Ms Haigh’s lessons sparked an interest in me, going to exhibitions and activities which involved the arts in Costa Rica. I began to understand the scarcity of these events and exhibitions and educated myself on the Costa Rican artistic ecosystem; its parts, its deficiencies but most importantly, its unlimited potential.

I made the decision that in order to understand this ecosystem even better, I wanted to study History of Art, and I came across The Courtauld Institute of Art. Since then, I dedicated most of my university career to studying several Costa Rican artists, concluding my degree in July of this year with my thesis, “Unmasking Identities Through the “Mascarada”: A Study of Contemporary Costa Rican Artist Adrian Arguedas Ruanos’ “Los Cautivos”. Following my line of research, I also conducted a seminar on the history of Costa Rican art during my internship at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice.

What was your earliest memory of art?

My earliest memory of art was the act of drawing - with my grandmother and my cousins we would draw butterflies, animals and each other. I remember always doing the very classic sun in the corner with sunglasses. I also have to say that the act of baking has been one of the earliest memories I have of art; my grandmother, mother and aunt would always make the most amazing cakes and decorate them beautifully for celebrations. I would always be in awe and never understood how they had the time to create everything. Looking back this shaped my relationship with art, as for me, art has always been something social - a gathering.

Can you tell us about Puente?

Puente is a Costa Rican art collective dedicated to establishing the first cultural exchange between Costa Rica and London of Modern and Contemporary Art by Costa Rican artists.

Often overshadowed by its neighbouring Latin American countries, the cultural and artistic landscape of Costa Rica has mirrored the nation's position as a bridge between North and South America. A hybrid nation, caught between two continents. The vision of the collective is to champion Costa Rican artists outside of Costa Rica and provide them with a platform to produce, present and engage with a European art market in a way that has never truly been realised.

Luciano Goizueta, 'Salita Temporal 01 Dia 254 (Temporary Little Room, 01 Day 254)', 2024, acrylic on canvas, 122x147cm. Image credits: Puente.

Where did the idea for ‘This Must be Paradise’ begin?

The idea stemmed from a conversation with a friend.

The exhibition’s name and concept mutated many times throughout time. At first, it was going to be named “The Happiest Place on Earth”, with a similar irony to “This Must be Paradise”, as Costa Rica has been often called that by The World Happiness Report. It wasn’t quite right; it was not the name I was looking for.

My friend and I were having coffee and the song “This must be the place” by Talking Heads came to our minds:

“Home is where I want to be

But I guess I’m already there

I come home, she lifted up her wings

I guess that this must be the place”

We did a play with words and substituted “place” with “paradise”. It was perfect. The exhibition is about the ambiguity of a place, a paradise, a home, Costa Rica and how the seven artists experience that. What is paradise? What is Costa Rica? What is Costa Rican art? Who defines what paradise is? Is home a place, a feeling, a space, a person, all?

How did you develop the exhibition?

The process was a particularly difficult one due to many parts and components.

I learned that curation is more than creating a space, an experience and a feeling through art; it is a cultivation of relationships. It is about trust, understanding, compromise and patience. I am still debating what the role of the curator even is. I approached this group of seven artists without any experience in curating a show, in return, they trusted me with their craft and gave me the best and most valuable thing any emerging curator needs: support. They were also trusting me, a recent graduate, with their work. So of course, the risks were high.

More than hanging artworks on walls and romanticising wine, praise, and flowers, it is building and running a business. It’s handling social media and graphic design. It’s finding someone to trust you with their space. It’s learning how to organise seven people. It’s transporting works from another continent. It’s having phone calls at 7am and 10pm on a Sunday; 24/7 schedule. It’s working with different time zones. It’s working on a tight budget. It’s knocking on doors but getting no answer. It’s about persisting.

The show had a very short deadline as I was keen on having the exhibition on during Frieze week, which of course, came with many obstacles. There was no time for producing new works so we had to work with what was available. I had made a massive PowerPoint presentation with all of their works from past and present series and had carefully arranged them together. I realise now, I started the “curatorial” process - if it even is considered that -  with colour. I was very inclined towards green, blue and black and white - they are the colours that are most common in the rainforest and the Costa Rican landscape. It is also the colours that dominate the exhibition “This must be Paradise”.

My main goal was to be able to communicate every artist’s language and to not get lost in translation. I believe curator Nakai Falcon says it best:

 “At the end of the day, with curatorial work, you are providing a service to the artist in terms of nurturing their practise…It’s vital for me to not recontextualize their work and stay as honest as I can to their art.”

Luckily, even though each artist has their own language, their artworks have conversations between them. Some use the same hues, some have similar subjects, most have the same point of departure, they all have a relationship with the same land and sea, they all have a relationship with art.

Rene Gonzalez, 'Deer Gardens', 2022, acrylic on canvas, 350x250cm. Image credits: Puente.

That is all to say, I did not have a plan going into the hang, but I did plan the visual storytelling. I had too much to stress about and sort before installation day - one painting even arrived a day after opening, thanks to DHL. Other work was birthed the day of the opening so having a final list of artworks basically happened the day after the exhibition opened. You have to adapt to the circumstances and adapt your vision - understand that you have to work with what you have. I was aware it was going to be very hands on and I wanted to physically move around the works to see what would work best with what. I had previously grouped several artworks together by colour. Again, because of distance and time, it was only until installation that I was able to see Rene’s work in person. Everything, and I mean it when I say it, every aspect of this process was about trust. Trust in yourself, your vision and trust in others. I did take many notes during installation of what to do and not to do for the future.

In the catalogue you embrace the novelty of this first; in a society that values experience, do you think we should “rejoice” in firsts more often?

I do believe we should rejoice in firsts more often as I have learned that the first step is the most important one. By first step in this case I mean action. It is one thing to dream about doing things and another to actually do them; taking that first step. I get asked a lot; “How did you do this? How did you do that?”. The answer is simply taking that first step, taking risks and simply doing it. I had never contacted these artists, I had never written a catalogue, I had never drilled a hole in a wall and I had never put up on an exhibition but once you take that first step you can do anything. Learn, make mistakes, be scared, cry (I did a lot of that).

The exhibition title is satirical of the preconceived idea of Costa Rica as a ‘paradise’; how does it feel to be creating a platform to share the reality of the country and challenge the “illusory state of perfection”?

This day an age ideas of identity, globalisation and movement - especially in the art history field - have led me to question my own place in the world and open up to others about how we feel in relation to the concept of home. In the case of the artists and my own, home is Costa Rica. Speaking to the seven artists, every one of them has a different perception of Costa Rica and of paradise; whether or not they overlap is a question that does not have a simple answer, if any answer at all.

Creating a platform to share the reality of the country and challenge the illusory state of perfection is a tricky one and opens up the debate of art and activism. My solution to this is providing a space for expression of seven individuals - artists, people - that have lived the reality of the country. There is an enchanting perception of Costa Rica for foreigners, there is an expectation of what it is, what it should be and the reality of it. For example, in one of our posters there is a play on words with respect to perceptions and words used to describe Costa Rica:

“This must be Paradise, exotic, nature, green, catholic, free, peaceful, tropical, messy, south, central, a colony, blue, native, wild, art, culture, unknown, eco-friendly, Costa Rica…”

Image credits: Puente.

What we have in the exhibition is a portion of a reality, they are seven responses and seven experiences. Responses to experiencing growing up and living in Costa Rica through art; masquerades, architecture, distance, the devil, nature, colour, abstraction, water, flames, sound, foliage, animals, darkness and light. There is a certain darkness that I wanted to communicate that mirrors our landscape and the artists encapsulate this in their work. Darkness created by foliage, darkness created by rain, darkness that lies within our history and darkness that lies within ourselves. Darkness also exists in separation and distance with our sense of identity and art; there is a constant questioning of what our art is and what it means to us.

As our tropical weather says it best: we might have beautifully sunny days but we also have powerful hurricanes, earthquakes and thunderstorms. There is creation and there is destruction. At the end of the day, we always persist.

Can you tell us about the artists that you’ve brought together for this exhibition?

The first two artists I encountered were Luciano Goizueta and Adrian Arguedas; my high school art teacher, Rosene Haigh, introduced me to them when we were doing our IGCSE’s. We visited one of Goizueta’s exhibition spaces in 2019 and I delved into his work ever since, following his work and visiting Sala Temporal, an experimental space where artists are invited to explore, work and express themselves. Four artists on “This must be Paradise” participated in Temporal and Salita Temporal, including Paz Ulloa, Erick Viquez, Rene Gonzalez and Christia Wedel. A painting of Salita Temporal is included amongst the works in “This must be Paradise”. These spaces have catapulted the contemporary artistic scene in Costa Rica, encouraging young artists to believe in themselves and their abilities; Goizueta has created a chain of events, of possibilities. His contributions to the artistic community in Costa Rica are unmeasurable.

This exhibition is more than just a display of art; it is a celebration of friendship. It is a bridge connecting continents and a bridge linking friends. To my surprise, the artists selected for "This Must Be Paradise" share not just their art but a history—a past that binds them. This exhibition has brought together a community in a distant land.

Image credits: Puente.

It all began with a few messages and calls.

As I read the list of participating artists to René Gonzalez, his excitement grew at the mention of a familiar name: Luciano Goizueta. René explained how he and Luciano had known each other for years—they attended the same high school and university. As teenagers, they spent their days creating, dabbling in everything from music to drawing and painting. Eventually, life took them on separate paths: one remained in Costa Rica, the other ventured to London. Despite the distance, René and Luciano stayed in touch, reuniting now and then, including during René’s eight-month residency at Goizueta's creative space, Temporal, during a challenging time. Most recently, Goizueta’s piece Ausencia XXXVIII was inspired by a visit to René in London in 2023. The two had long intended to collaborate but time and place did not coincide—until June 2024, when "Puente" was built, and their artistic journeys crossed once more.

On a phone call with Adriana Ramirez, I mentioned two names that made her smile: Paz Ulloa and Christian Wedel. She shared how she and Christian lived together on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica for a while, with Paz frequently visiting. During that time, the three artists began experimenting with new techniques, their works unintentionally speaking to one another in subtle, intertwined ways.

Another surprise came when Erick Viquez recounted his conversations with Christian about the concept of Gótico Tropical (Tropical Gothic), and how they both incorporated the same shade of blue into their work—a blue that is dark, very close to grey.

Adrian, Luciano, and Christian were also connected by their participation in “Seguimos”, an exhibition held at Craig Krull Gallery in Los Angeles earlier this year.

This exhibition has a story, or two, about friendships.

Image credits: Puente.

What was it like to curate so many personal expressions of what it is to be Costa Rican in one space?

Because of the relationships that the artists have amongst each other, it made curation a bit more fluid in the sense that their work have a dialogue. It is interesting, as even though every personal expression is incredibly unique, there are elements that tie them together. That being greens and blues (Erick, Adriana, Christian and Rene), reds and yellows (Luciano and Adrian), black and white (Christian, Paz, Adriana, Erick and Adrian), pathways (Luciano and Rene)...etc.

I believe that a group show should not be sectioned by artist but that works should be in conversation with one another. You can celebrate individuality and community at the same time. Of course, one has to be careful with how connections are established in order not to lose a work of art and its meaning, but this show is a community, friendship, and working with different personal expressions has been more of a tool than a limitation. It adds meaning and emotion when you understand why their works speak with each other but the differences that exist are of equal value.

How did you curate the binaries described in the catalogue to visually hang in harmony with one another?

The binaries are mostly present in the play of darkness against light, black and white against colour. Contrast is a strong tool; it is two opposites and gives chance for the imagination of what could be in between. Everything links back to perception.

Christian Wedel, 'Sangre Nocturna (Nightly Blood)', 2022, charcoal on paper, 155cmx107cm. Image credits: Puente.

What do you think about the cultural landscape of the art world at the moment?

The person who has the best answer to this question, in my opinion, is author Gabriel Garcia Marquez and the speech he delivered when he won the Noble Prize for literature. The speech is called “The Solitude of Latin America” and here is an extract of it:

“...It is not difficult to understand that the mental talents of this side of the world, in an ecstasy of contemplation of their own cultures, have found themselves without a proper means to interpret us. One realizes this when they insist on measuring us with the same yardstick with which they measure themselves, without realizing that the ravages of life are not the same for all, and that the search for one's own identity is as arduous and bloody for us as it was for them. To interpret our reality through schemas which are alien to us only has the effect of making us even more unknown, ever less free, ever more solitary. Perhaps venerable old Europe would be more sympathetic if it tried to see us in its own past; if it remembered that London needed three hundred years to build her first defensive wall, and another three hundred before her first bishop; that Rome debated in the darkness of uncertainty for twenty centuries before an Etruscan king rooted her in history, and that even in the sixteenth century the pacifist Swiss of today, who so delight us with their mild cheeses and their cheeky clocks, made Europe bloody as soldiers of fortune. Even in the culminating phase of the Renaissance, twelve thousand mercenary lansquenets of the Imperial armies sacked and razed Rome, cutting down eight thousand of its inhabitants…”

There are changes that are happening but still a long way to go. I don’t believe solutions are particularly on the works as the problem seems to be in the air, the case for Latin American art is a history that has to be furthered researched - with the right tools.

Andrian Arguedas, 'La Ventana (The Window)', 2019, chromoxylography (print), 66cmx45cm. Image credits: Puente.

What influence would you like Puente to have on this cultural landscape?

I sincerely hope that it will create a platform for opportunity, community, and change. For more fields of study and research to emerge, for more celebrations of diversity. To show the world the potential that exists in Costa Rican art and hopefully help create an impulse a first step for other communities across the world to show their art and to not be scared of it. It is a haunting cultural landscape that has a certain exclusivity but also that thrives for change and inclusion so let’s actually do it - let’s take more first steps.

What does creative connection mean to you?

It means two or more entities that share a feeling, an experience, a space that have a similar canal or route of communication. It is sharing a language but not exclusively that. Although a creative connection can exist within oneself.

‘This Must Be Paradise’ is open until October 19th at The Fitzrovia Gallery, London. Entry is free.