Untitled 1950

Curator: Looking at this 'Untitled' piece from 1950 by Lolo Soldevilla, I feel this pull, a sense of... almost cosmic playfulness. It’s like the artist captured the elegance of minimalist abstraction. Editor: My first thought is about control versus surrender, I see repetition but also an uneven quality that betrays the hand of the artist and highlights, for me, an tension within geometry itself. Curator: Precisely! There is something almost elemental about its construction; a playful use of circular forms and stark monochrome to express deeper resonance. Those imperfect circles nestled in those rigid rectangles speak to something beyond geometric purity. What narratives do you feel are evoked from this careful organization? Editor: I immediately question the cultural and political underpinnings of abstraction in the Cuban context where Soldevilla worked. Was abstraction seen as a refuge from direct political engagement during the Batista regime? What did this experimentation mean at the time? Curator: Or perhaps Soldevilla was more interested in universal languages. I think of the way jazz musicians improvise within structures... her 'Untitled' seems like visual improvisation, searching for the infinite contained within the defined form. Editor: That makes me wonder about gender, about space, about who got to ‘improvise.’ Consider, too, the limited options for women artists within highly patriarchal structures – does abstraction here provide a veiled way of protesting? A coded language against expectation? Curator: That reading lends the piece another level of resonance! And maybe it explains the profound intimacy that I feel when regarding the piece. It truly has that soulful something. I have such appreciation for your considerations. Editor: Agreed! And considering how movements transform—perhaps future generations may also see hope and subtle activism radiating from those stark contrasts and elegant silences of hers. Thank you, that really enriches the conversation.