TEXTS:

 








Allan Gandhi's painting operates in a liminal zone between figuration and disfigurement, between the representational impulse and formal dissolution. His portraits, invariably crossed by the presence of the male figure, are not inscribed in an attempt to capture the real, but rather to put a strain on the the apparatus that has historically sustained the very idea of a portrait. What we ultimately see are not subjects, but the dismantling of the subject as a stable category: dilated faces, ears that twist into zoological arabesques and gestures that are closer to evocation than to description.


In Gandhi, this is an approach in which painting claims its material autonomy without renouncing the suggestive power of the figure. The quick stroke, the short and almost pulsating brushstroke is not a style, but rather resistance to codification. The spit that erupts on the canvas, for example, is not merely a sign of the grotesque, but a performative index of the painting's own internal logic: it doesn't point outside the canvas, but to its own condition as the tactile surface of the painting.


If the internal structure of each painting seems, at first glance, closed, this falls apart as the eye recognizes the operation of cutting and re-stitching as a device that breaks the compositional cloister. The literal assembly of the  canvases shows a desire for structural destabilization, to allude to a pictorial space that is not completed in the painting, but which insists on prolonging itself - perhaps narratively, perhaps perhaps narratively, perhaps as a fragmentary memory.


There is no previous project. Or, if there is, it's encrypted in abandoned sketches in old sketchbooks, in visual notes that function not as a map, but as a phantasmagoria of the gesture. The past, in Gandhi's paintings, is always imagined - or rather, it's a past lived only as the possibility of characters from the imagination. In this in-between place - between memory and fiction, between affection and sign - is where his painting acquires its poetic density. But this isn't just about lyricism. It's also about a poetics of instability, where the figure never settles, and the very language itself is called upon to reinvent itself with each painting.



Text for a  show at Sardenberg Gallery by Ricardo Sardenberg
May 2025






Captured in a variety of facial expressions, gestures, and activities, Allan Gandhi’s figures convey an ambiguous language that oscillates between meticulous oddity, internal playfulness, and cool thoughtfulness. Through actions like smoking, kissing, staring, or simply contemplating, his work offers multiple ways to
engage, inviting the viewer’s gaze to absorb the feelings emanated by the painter’s unconventional portraiture. Gandhi’s facial close-ups aim to evok intimacy, creating compositions that explore both internal and external aesthetics, an ongoing tension, and a desire to connect with his uniquely strange depictions.

Using a vibrant palette and applying oil paint in diverse hues and
tones, he develops a strong, dramatic painterly language that is transmitted even through his characters’ facial expressions.
A blend of abstract and figurative elements enhances the dramatic tone of his work. In paintings such as Capuz (2024), Face Lift (2023), and A barba com um rosto (2023), Gandhi delves into his more abstract side, applying gestural brush strokes with seeming spontaneity. Here, he flirts with expressionistic techniques while still defining his portraiture through a cohesive figurative style.
By contrast, in O Atirador de Facas (2023) and Cachorros no tapete (2023), he adopts a distinctly figurative approach, creating a clear contrast within his oeuvre. These thin boundaries between abstraction and figuration create a dynamic balance and intrigue in his work. Often, his imagery is tangible and recognizably human, with distinct bodily shapes, while at other times, hi character arrangements are hauntingly ambiguous.
Gandhi’s color palette is versatile, adapting to his technique’s shifting demands and adding depth to his compositions. A faded effect is a significant part of hi style, giving way to harsh discolorations in certain areas without clearly delineating shapes, allowing forms and colors to merge into a unique artistic language. In his more figurative works, the palette renders aesthetically pleasing results, whereas, in his abstract pieces, he uses color shifts to enhance his characteristic sense of disorder. This interplay of vibrant colors and unusual
forms infuses the work with visual excitement. Long, curved noses, twisted lips thick eyebrows, small eyes, and big-headed male figures populate his iconography, underscoring his characters’ duality and revealing a certai confidence within an uncomfortable, vulnerable framework.
By deconstructing his characters to reveal both beauty and vulnerability, Gandhi crafts a body of work rich in ambivalence, weaving together unconventional narratives that brim with personality and creative eccentricity. While his strange visual language might contort forms on his canvases, the viewer’s experience ultimately finds depth in the screams, intricate gestures, and oddly tidy elements,
where a deliberate silence mediates with a vibrant expression.



Text by Yanni Kostarias for Art-Verge
November 2024




Quando olhamos um espelho, o que vemos?

A pergunta pode parecer rasa, rasa como a superfície límpida à qual se refere. Mas, para Guimarães Rosa, o que vemos diante de um espelho é puro misticismo: se olharmos bem, no nosso próprio rosto refletido vemos o mundo se desfazer, se refazer, se revelar uma farsa e, finalmente, refletir um real infinito em duas simples íris oculares (1). Um pouco como Waly Salomão quando diz: "o olho por onde eu vejo deus é o mesmo olho por onde ele me vê"(2). Um pouco como a busca por um rosto derretido nas pinturas de Allan Gandhi.

Em conversas que tivemos no seu ateliê, Allan me deu a entender que todos esses rostos e corpos, suas fumaças e fusões entre espécies e objetos dos mais banais, eram o jeito de um sujeito comum procurar o que da sua pequena vida cotidiana de fato é real. É verdade: mesmo que ele não planeje, as pinturas de Allan fazem a jornada mística de derreter o real de si mesmo, feito o personagem de Rosa.

Com uma diferença de cara: as pinturas dão espaço para um gestual e um aparato pictórico e material ausentes na escrita, como se a imagem mole e mística do espelho pudesse ser moldada, fundida, esfumaçada na pincelada a óleo. Permitindo mudar de cor, brincando de trazer o céu, a fumaça, a luz da televisão para dentro do autorreflexo até se fixar. Nestas pinturas é possível deixar o mundo aparecer e sumir em névoas de verde, rosa, amarelo e azul. Porque, se somos todos máscaras como pensou Rosa, podemos também inventarmo-nos -- e sermos então mais coloridos, místicos, engraçados.

Mas, além da celebração desse gesto criador, o espelho também vira aqui metáfora para falar da revelação de tabus enquanto aquilo que está dentro de nós e não deixamos à mostra, apesar de real demais: a baba, o gozo, o peido. O vampiro que, ao contrário do imaginário sobre não ter reflexo, na tela-espelho de Allan enfim se revela. Se estamos tratando de revelar, vamos ter de ver a graça e a vergonha, a agonia e o êxtase em nós.

Deve ser por isso a escolha de bipartir a exposição  em paredes que ficam de frente uma para a outra, como o dia e a noite, o revelado e o fugidio, dois espelhos paralelos e o mundo se inventando entre e por conta deles. Que assim seja.



1. ROSA, Guimarães. O espelho in Primeiras estórias. Global editora: São Paulo, 2019.

2. SALOMÃO, Waly. Poesia total. Companhia das letras: São Paulo, 2014.


Texto por Thiago Barbalho para a exposição “O Espelho”
Novembro 2024