Statue of Franco (without Franco) “reflecting on the freedom” of the Spaniards

Their final destination is the Círculo de Bellas Artes in Madrid, where they will be on display this weekend as part of the “Spain in Freedom: 50 Years” initiative. With one difference, Sanchez Castillo took their former rider. “The idea was to edit this sculpture that can no longer be displayed in public due to the law of historical memory, because what is important to me is the horse, whose presence in the urban landscape has always been important. There are no horses without handlers. because? Because the horse represents the people, it always appears with those riding it and guiding them. The interesting thing for me as a sculptor is the liberation of the horse, which is the same as the liberation of the people. “It is a metaphor for a city that, after fifty years, has reclaimed the reins of its destiny,” the author explains.

The artwork, which the artist called Free, commemorates the half-century since Franco’s death on November 20, 1975, when the possibility of expanding our freedoms was opened in Spain. The artist also ensures that the work celebrates the collective achievements of our democracy and promotes reflection on fundamental rights. “In fact, Goya did not choose to paint about the disasters of the War of Independence against the French, but rather it was his role. The same thing happened to me with the work I have done related to historical memory. At this time, the issue of the iconography of the past is very important, so I am thinking about what to do with it to survive that past and look forward to a more liberated future.”

His versions are inspired by the equestrian statue of Franco made by José Caboz and removed from the Nuevos Ministerios in 2005. By presenting the horse without its rider, the dictator, what he wants is to free it from the character that has controlled it. Sánchez Castillo believes that this seemingly simple gesture contains a powerful metaphor about how power descends from its base and that only the horse remains in motion as a representation of the democratic impulse and common life.

25,000 characters

Each visitor will be able to take home one of 25,000 minifigures this weekend in exchange for leaving a written message about freedom, democracy and fundamental rights. The installation will be open to the public in the Column Room of the Círculo de Bellas Artes on Saturday from 10:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. And on Sunday from 4:00 pm. to 9:00 p.m. “Work is actually a reflection of power and freedom, which is our primary concern currently. As a citizen, I believe that we must struggle every day to achieve greater and greater freedom, while always respecting the freedom of others. It’s not a matter of being happy, but of being engaged in that mission, and working every day for that freedom. I do this from my position as an artist, thinking plastically and proposing works that serve others.”

“Democracy is not a closed legacy, but a common project that we all renew with our actions, our voices and our participation,” stresses Sánchez Castillo, known for years for reinterpreting the symbols of Spain’s modern history with a general critical vision, which he has exhibited in famous art galleries such as the Center Pompidou in Paris, the Tate Modern in London or the Reina Sofía Museum, among others.

In 2012, for example, he brought his exhibition “Guernica Syndrome” to Matadero Madrid, which transformed the remains of the Azur, Franco’s pleasure boat, into a counter-monument. Three years later, he showed the painting “Free Time” at Juana de Aispuro Gallery, about the moments of freedom we find, even in violent environments. He showed pictures of UN soldiers who jokingly filmed themselves acting out the dead when the war ended. “It was a memento of his death. “For me, that was a moment of creative freedom in which art defeated death,” he explained to ABC in 2015.

Slaughterhouse

He has recently developed another project to highlight how Madrid Matadero was used, during the post-war period, as a detention center in which 838 beggars were left to die of hunger and cold in just one year. “The photos from Francisco Fernández Agudo’s archive were very difficult and I felt psychologically traumatized. They look like they are from Auschwitz, and I thought of an art installation (not yet presented) with images of the inmates animated in 3D so that they move and speak to us and convey vitality. In short, those places should be recognized as an example of what should not happen again,” he explained to this newspaper in June.

Entering his studio, in fact, is like traveling through time, as one quickly encounters several busts of Franco, a replica of Charles Chaplin’s face in The Great Dictator, an old suitcase full of documents about Matadero Madrid’s dark past as a center of repression and several shelves filled with history books. “Be careful,” he warns, “I have a rat that I found inside the Franco statue.” He puts it in a box with rocks, water, and food, as if it were the new house pet. He joked: “Since we don’t know whether he is male or female, we named him Francis.”