Fervor
Ana María Hernando: Fervor
Denver Botanic Gardens
1007 York Street, Denver, CO 80206
September 11, 2021-January 2, 2022
Admission: Adults: $15; Seniors & Military: $11.50; Children & Students: $11; Children 2 and Under and Members: Free.
Review by Jillian Blackwell
Ana María Hernando’s exhibition Fervor at the Denver Botanic Gardens is a well-balanced, harmonious display of embroideries and sculpture. Hernando also fills the two gallery spaces of the exhibit with sound. In one room, bird calls echo against the hard walls and collide mid-air with the abstract embroideries that dangle from the ceiling. In the next room, Hernando’s own voice swells, reciting her own poem accompanied by dissonant orchestral music. The sounds are at times soft, at times shrill and reverberant. In sum, Hernando’s careful hand has composed an exhibition of audio and fiber works that embody a symphony of opposing qualities but create a cheerful whole.
Both rooms include pieces from Écoutons/We Listen/Escuchamos, a project that began in 2020 and is still continuing. Hernando invited people from all around the world to “to contemplate their surroundings, paying special attention to the sounds of birds, and send her short audio recordings”. [1] She has since received submissions from more than 200 people in 11 countries. [2] Hernando listened to each of these recordings and created an abstract embroidery in response to each specific bird call. With these works, Hernando stays within a palette of about eight colors, mostly tropical with warm reds, oranges, and yellows, with shots of vibrant green and turquoise. Flower and leaf shapes repeat rhythmically throughout, dancing amongst spirals and curlicues.
Most of the compositions are drawn with single lines of thread, though occasionally Hernando fills an oval in fully with a hot red or coral, giving a strong beat of exuberance. The small embroideries are done on squares of sheer organza, which hang from gossamer threads several feet above the head of the viewer. The fabric squares flutter in a strong breeze that blows through the room, with the organza glinting as it catches in the gallery lights. In essence, the embroideries become a flock of abstract birds, buoyed by the breeze and the soundtrack of bird calls that plays throughout the space.
On the walls hang enlarged copies of some of the embroideries, printed on the same organza material. The fabric is stitched at its top edge to a piece of thick white paper. These larger squares of fabric are also caught by the wind and stir against their white backdrops. Underneath each design, Hernando has written a description in large, loping cursive, like a doctor’s signature. These prints are displayed closer to eye level, and so one may more closely inspect the designs. The birds from Mexico City inspired a radial composition that spikes in dark brown with lavender wilted flower shapes and ochre ovals. Listening to a blue jay call from Wilmette, Illinois, Hernando looped a cornflower blue line back and forth around a chartreuse spindle. Birds from the Galapagar area in Madrid, Spain caused a cluster of red and orange five-petalled flowers to sprout.
While it is nice to be able to look more closely at the designs that fly overhead, it was disappointing to find out first, that the wall pieces were flat, ghostly prints and not actual embroideries, and second, that they are merely copies of other designs and not new designs in their own right. Still, they add to the fervor stirred up by their cousins overhead.
The flock of embroideries pale in scale to the massive sculpture in the room. Ñusta de la hora sagrada/Ñusta of the Holy Twilight “represents a Ñusta, a powerful female spirit of the mountain in Andean mythology”. [3] The sculpture is a mountain of tulle, black at its base then lightening to baby blue, yellow, and white at its peak. A disk of tulle hovers over it, orange in the center and off white surrounding, like the head of a spent sunflower bent down. The Ñusta is imposing without being threatening; soft but not delicate. It exudes a presence that is both powerful and pleasant.
A companion tulle sculpture occupies the other room of the exhibition. It is also grand in scale, running from floor to ceiling. This piece, eponymously titled Fervor, is shaped like a mushroom cloud, with an apricot tutu at the ceiling and cascades of neon green down to the floor. This gigantic medusa swims in a sea of discordant string music and Hernando’s fluid voice. She recites three bird poems: Wood Thrush; Mourning Dove; and Bobolink. The words shift in and out of English and Spanish. The exhibition placard explains that the poems are meant to be “imagining the meaning of each song and the experiences of the birds that sing them,” and that Fervor is meant to “embod[y] both the habitat of birds and the irrepressible life force and spiritual energy of nature.”
While the audio and the sculpture are both stirring, their connection to birds and nature is not immediately evident. Aesthetically, the experience is interesting, a jarring soundtrack paired with a cheerful, fluffy sculpture made of synthetic tulle. The sculpture could stand alone—it does not need the assertions of the exhibition placards. Indeed, much of the text in the signage seems unnecessary and distracting from the experience of the artwork itself.
Ana María Hernando plays with seeming binaries—abstract and real, soft and powerful. She shows that these elements can exist without conflict. Rather, they all exist in one buoyant space, brightly colored and cheerful. Fervor is an apt title for the show: while serene, the work is full of energy and life.
Jillian Blackwell is a Denver-based artist and art educator. She holds a BA in Fine Arts with a Concentration in Ceramics from the University of Pennsylvania.
[1] From Hernando’s website: https://www.anamariahernando.com/%C3%A9coutons.
[2] According to the exhibition placard.
[3] Ibid.