In a golden swimsuit, as a pleading virgin anchored in candle wax, or naked on an inflatable horse, Isabella Madrid, a 25-year-old Colombian photographer, plays many roles at Circulation(s) – those that Colombian society instills in women and that foreigners consume without moderation. In a project made of contradictions, the artist’s white-toothed smile becomes a weapon, intended to deconstruct the archetypes she erects. A way for her to reclaim an identity weakened by the hypersexualization imposed on her.
You studied photography at ECAL and began to explore themes that still accompany you today. Which ones?
I’ve always worked by staging myself through self-portraits. I wanted to create a body of work based on an identity defined by my fascination with social media and growing up in a country obsessed with beauty, whose traditional values are undermined by violence, pop culture, and being a woman.
These issues are also found in “Buena , Bonita y Berata”…
Yes. The idea for this series came to me while I was working on my final project. I was still living in Switzerland and reading articles about Colombian women who were victims of femicide perpetrated by foreign men who came to visit the country looking for women they could buy and use as they wished. I began to question what it means to be a Colombian woman, from both an external and an intimate perspective, drawing on my own memories and anecdotes. What are the codes that constitute the visual universe of their representation, and how could I embody, play with, and deconstruct these codes to redefine their meaning?
So you address the notions of archetype and prejudice in this series. How do you think these women are perceived and how does this impact them?
Colombian women are generally perceived as exotic, sensual, happy, virginal, devoted, and loyal dolls. Dolls that can be played with if you have enough to impress them.
This image can give rise to a belief: if they are sexy enough, if they find the perfect (foreign) man, if they buy a certain body and sell it properly, they can experience comfort and luxury. This has cost some of these women their lives.
Why did you choose self-portraits rather than depicting other women?
Because it allows me to explore and dissect my own identity, to embody not only my experiences, but also to reclaim the wounds caused by my years in Colombia. It also allows me to get rid of any form of pressure by having fun and breaking the codes I grew up with, to tell stories that, even if they don’t all belong to me, exist within me. It gives me strength and allows me to heal.
I also intend to share my vision of the “Colombian woman” and, in doing so, allow tolerance to take root. I wish to highlight the constant colonial violence to which these women have always been subjected and to reclaim the narratives that result from it.
You’re referring to aspects of Colombian history in this project. Which ones, for example?
I re-appropriate the image of Simon Bolivar naked on his white horse, one of the main representations of power in Colombia – and, by staging a female body, I transform its meaning. I also often use gold, in reference to the material with which bodies were represented in pre-Columbian tradition, but also as a way to address the commercialization and objectification of Colombian women. Finally, I am interested in the figure of the horse and what it represents: masculinity and power. Many men in Colombia are obsessed with them, buying them to enter horse shows that are similar to beauty pageants – another of the country’s obsessions!
Despite the depth of the subjects covered, the aesthetic of “Buena, Bonita y Berata” is surprising: kitsch, playful. Why?
I want the paradoxes I address to be visible in the very aesthetics of the work. It’s a constant state of contradiction that’s found not only in the series, but also in my life: I try to have fun without forgetting about violence.
How has this series been received so far?
Much better than I thought! It has helped initiate many conversations that I find very important because they have opened the eyes of people observing from the outside while allowing Colombian women to feel seen, understood, and to recognize themselves in these images. I am delighted and very proud to see this work unfold in different spaces, and I dream of being able to show it in Colombia one day.
“Buena , Bonita y Berata” is on display until June 1 at the Centquatre in Paris, as part of the Circulation(s) festival.
