alejandra glez
Portrait of the artist.
Alejandra Glez (born 1996) is a Cuban multidisciplinary artist based in Madrid. Much of her work has deconstructed stereotypes and stigmas associated with the female body. In recent years Glez has focused on a topic of profound importance to her - the conservation of seas and oceans. Through photography, installation, video art, digital art, and performance, Alejandra works with themes associated with Afro-Caribbean religions, collective memory, and the spirituality that emanates from the relationship between human beings and the sea. Recent exhibitions include: “Filha do Mar”, Galeria Belard, Lisbon (2024); solo project at the ARTESANTANDER Contemporary Art Fair, Aurora Vigil-Escalera Gallery, Santander (2024).
LUCIJA ŠUTEJ: As a self-taught artist, much like Tadao Ando, you have gained training through direct exposure, such as studying photography in collaboration with National Geographic in Havana. How has this unconventional path influenced your approach to art?
ALEJANDRA GLEZ: At the beginning of my career, I focused solely on still photography. It was my first step into the art world. Being self-taught, it was a bit more difficult to acquire the necessary knowledge to execute my work, but at the same time, it gave me creative freedom to create without structures or limits.
LŠ: Your practice is incredibly multifaceted - spanning across performance, digital arts, video, and photography; where you address numerous realities and challenges of the present environments and societies. Prominently across your work, we see how your body takes on a new role - that of an object to communicate multiple narratives. How does the role of the body shift when working across different mediums, such as video, photography, and performance?
AG: There was a point in my career when I realized that everything static or two-dimensional was limiting for me in terms of expressing everything I had inside. I started experimenting with 3D, and still, I felt it was a bit cold, seeing it behind a screen. So, I decided to move into performance. At that moment, I felt that all the energy of art was being expressed through my body and that my physical body became an object of expression. I realized that the practice of performance, in a way, completed everything I had explored before to truly show who I am transparently before the audience.
LŠ: The body as a physical expression of memory and identity migrates between fragility and strength — how do you now view it?
AG: The body is definitely fragile, but I believe it is the perfect vehicle for any enduring work of art. While performance is an ephemeral element, something that people often think of as occurring in a specific moment, I believe it creates a before and after, both in the artist’s body and in the spectator's experience. Therefore, it becomes a kind of "hard drive" that, over time, can lead to different emotional states.
Perdi mis fuerzas en el agua, 2023.
Entre redes, 2023.
Perdi mis fuerzas en el agua, 2023.
LŠ: I am very intrigued - you divided (also seen on your website) your work into three categories: Blood, Rituals, and Altars. Why this classification and how do you view each section? How do they interconnect through your practice?
AG: I imagine altars as large, three-dimensional elements that contribute to a space. An altar, for me, is something big, with a corporeal sense, and this is where my installations and sculptures come from—these are my big or small altars. Then, rituals are centered around performance. For me, performance is a ritual: a ritual between the body and the spectator, a ritual between my concept and my body. Finally, blood is that image that stays, that endures; it is always there’, like the blood in our physical body. For me, it is a primal image. All of these categories are linked in one way or another, because within photography there is performance, and within performance there is installation. They are interconnected in my practice.
Rezos, rituales y altares, 2023, MUHCAB - Museu de Historia e da Cultura Afro- Brasileira, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
LŠ: The Blood series explores our complex relationship with water and oceans. Why are oceans such a recurring motif in your work? How do they connect to the broader themes of memory and identity in your practice?
AG: The oceans are a recurring theme in my work because I am deeply interested in giving voice to women, and in this sense, I give voice to the wounded women, who for me are the seas and oceans. This also comes from a very personal and cultural place related to my childhood, my home, and the Yoruba religion. For me, the conservation of the seas and oceans is directly tied to my Yoruba roots. Through Yoruba goddesses like Yemayá, the goddess of the sea, who is my mother in this tradition, I tell the secrets and issues that currently affect the oceans. I give voice to the urgent need to protect them.
In works like Mar de fondo, where female bodies float in the sea, and Entre redes, where I represent the feeling of being trapped by marine pollution, I explore how our actions negatively impact the ocean and, in turn, our own lives. These pieces invite reflection on the symbiotic relationship between humans and the sea, inspired by the teachings of Yemayá and Olokun, who guide us to protect and respect this vital resource. My art seeks to be a call to action to preserve the oceans, integrating Yoruba spirituality with the urgent need to protect our seas.
Next year, I will continue working on my project 7 Watery Tales, which delves deeper into these themes. Part of the research will be carried out through artist residencies, allowing me to further explore different perspectives on the relationship between humans and the oceans.
Mi mar, 2024.
Mi mar, 2024.
LŠ: The Yoruba religion is a strong influence in your work. How has this spiritual connection evolved, and how does it shape the narratives in your art?
AG: The Yoruba religion has been part of my life since birth. At three months old, I was initiated into the Yoruba religion, and I lived in a Yoruba household. So, telling my story is, in a way, telling my truth. For me, art is the highest truth an artist can give to the world, and in my case, the Yoruba religion is part of that truth. I reinterpret it through my works as a personal experience, and also as a form of catharsis.
LŠ: Your work: Volver a Nacer, presented in Thyssen-Bornemizsa National Museum looked at the spiritual dimension of rebirth and I would be excited to learn of the creation and research behind it. Are you planning to expand the work - and if so how?
AG: Volver a Nacer is a perfect fusion of how one is born both in the Yoruba religion and in the maternal womb. The performance started with a dialogue from my mother welcoming me into the world, as I emerged from a net rescued from the Mediterranean, where animals were being killed. Then, the performance continued with a drum marking my ‘rebirth’,calling on the Yoruba goddess to bring her to earth.
This work not only brings the sea to Madrid in some way but also connects to Spanish colonization. Up until then, no Cuban artist had exhibited at the museum, so I wanted to use that first opportunity to talk about my roots, my culture, and my truth. I chose to perform in front of a Tintoretto painting, which, for me, represented a ‘Catholic war’. It was like bringing a Yoruba goddess in front of Catholicism because, during colonization, all these Yoruba gods hid behind Catholic representations to survive. In general, I work performances on-site, depending on the space and the history of that space, and it is within that context that the performance is created, with all of my concepts and foundations. I don't believe it would make the same sense outside of that specific space.
Volver a nacer, 2023, Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid. Poto by Larisa Lopez. All images are courtesy of the artist.