El Principito Caraqueño invita a celebrar la vida, el amor y la amistad
Este domingo 7 de mayo, será inaugurada la exposición en la que Kathiana Cardona une fotografía y diseño gráfico como un canto de esperanza para una causa de salud.
La fotógrafa y diseñadora gráfica Kathiana Cardona inaugura el domingo 7 de mayo a las 11.30 de la mañana en la quinta Palmasola -donde quedaba la escuela Prodiseño en la Ata Florida-, la exposición El Principito Caraqueño, una fusión de diseño y fotografía en la que el famoso personaje de Antoine de Saint Exupéry visita los cuatro puntos cardinales de Caracas.
El origen de la exposición
De esta manera, el resultado son obras fotográficas a las que se incorporaron reproducciones de las ilustraciones de Saint Exupéry, expuestas en marcos escultóricos. Para esta oportunidad, la creativa sumó un video que complementa el concepto.
El Principito Caraqueño fue presentado por primera vez en 2018 en los secaderos de La Trinidad y regresa en esta oportunidad para con la venta de las obras, recaudar fondos para el tratamiento contra el cáncer.
Con este trabajo artístico, Kathiana Cardona complementa su obra, pues se mantiene muy activa en el circuito internacional del cartel social, siendo permanentemente invitada a participar en diferentes convocatorias, donde representa con mucho orgullo a Venezuela.
APOSTILLES FOR A BEAUTIFUL BOOK
These photographs, the result of Kathiana Cardona's participation in the Roberto Mata Workshop: North, South, East and West Caracas, are intervened, full of fantasy, to filter or qualify a contradictory, harsh, oppressive reality.
Fragments of The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry seemed unusual to me next to Caracas. Kathiana managed to insert them so that we have a metaphorical guide for reading and enjoying images that say too much, that hurt, that touch.
In spite of everything, the wonderful light that bathes the Valley of Caracas prevails, which at first the conquerors wanted to baptize as Valle de San Francisco.
Kathiana does not stop looking for hope in a city that, today, is recognized for being very dangerous, inhumane, harsh. That light that we already mentioned as beautiful and tangible sneaks into each photograph but cannot prevent one from feeling anguish, the need for change, the longing for understanding and the desire for the arrival of common sense; the start of a conversation.
Caracas, especially in the north, is a city of thick green color, Ávila green, green palm trees, green grass, trees with voluptuous and spreading crowns of intense green. That prodigious, beautiful and opulent nature is barred, imprisoned, divided by inhabitants who are sad, desolate and fearful of themselves. There is a photograph that shows us a couple embracing and kissing almost in the center of the stage that frames the concrete structure of the Acoustic Shell of Bello Monte. Yes, there is a kiss.
The Little Prince and his sheep accompany us and suggest ideas that seem simple, that have to be read twice, that have to be reviewed without obvious prejudices and without the automatic switch on, suffocating the emotional.
In this book there is optimism, there is generosity, there is an honest intention to learn to see what we do not see. We no longer know that there is a city that is full of colors, where modernity tried to reach. Reality prevails and leads us to only see the scars and the evil. A city of watertight compartments and pain, plain pain.
In these pages there are rhythms, there is a lot of music, there are many textures, but above all there is compassion, pity, so that the city can revive and continue beyond its statues and monuments that no one knows very well what they were made for. Here is a bet to delve into memory and make room for the future. The struggles are present, castrating eyes full of hatred, deeply mistaken, incite a violence that terrifies and frightens. Those eyes are captured in an impeccable composition that moves and alarms. I have walked through these photographs, through these images, through those playful interventions that try to appease the hostility in which we are submerged and make us bet on better times. At times, I am infected with Kathiana's optimism.
I am glad that this book has reminded me that at dawn the trees are there serene but eager for the light that makes them green. Perhaps we, inhabitants of a wounded, torn and aimless city, can also wait for a dawn where the light guides us and gives us new life.
In Caracas, a night in September 2014, with a thunderstorm and heavy rain, where the Ávila peaks were illuminated by lightning and sparks while the lowest clouds spewed clean and pure water. In the midst of that storm I saw clearly that the Little Prince from Caracas might be around here.