How do we form relationships with illness? What do people consider beautiful, and why? José María Mancía asks these questions using his camera lens. His show, the pain of old wounds, at Gallery 1313 in the Cell Gallery, focuses on how we – the viewers and the artist as well – react to pain and how we relate to the narrative in these images.
I became captivated by these out-of-focus images. I could feel the pain in these photographs – from the sterile-white frames and the familiar blur of blue hospital gowns – they make me feel uncomfortable.
Installation view of the pain of old wounds. Photo: Victoria Filippo
Mancía is addressing what makes an artwork radiate pain and what makes it beautiful, and how these two can exist in the same image. the pain of old wounds is a cathartic experience. By blurring the details and the identity of the people in them, something ambiguous is created. However, in spite of the blurred images, viewers can create their own narrative and recognize their own emotional reactions. Mancía uses these out-of-focus images cleverly, manipulating the viewers’ sense of reality about what is being portrayed.
Works such as “the pain of old wounds (VI)” embodies this idea. We can make out the figure of a woman sitting in a chair holding a cup and looking at a hospital bed. Though disoriented, we can still sense her emotion, but whether she is feeling loss, pain, or sadness remains unknown. The remnant of her emotion is greater than the details that can be seen.
the pain of old wounds (VI), inkjet print on archival substance, 17 x 22 inches
The same woman seems to appear in “the pain of old wounds (VIII)”, only now we can make out more of her surroundings: there is a figure sitting on a hospital bed directly across from her, staring into space while the woman from (VI) is looking at the camera. Both women are in a painful and vulnerable situation, we also experienced in real life. Is pain and vulnerability subjective or objective? Can it be measured by an onlooker?
the pain of old wounds (VIII), inkjet print on archival substance, 17 x 22 inches
While we do not know exactly why the little girl in “the pain of old wounds (IV)” is wearing a bib and sitting in a hospital bed, we can still understand and feel her fear. What is interesting in this composition is how the colours stand out against the sterile blue and white hospital background; this rainbow-coloured bib almost seems a beacon of hope. A reminder that life does not always have to be painful.
the pain of old wounds (IV), inkjet print on archival substance, 17 x 22 inches
Art is not completely subjective, but rather, exists in a reality between subjectivity and objectivity. Mancía writes that he has trouble photographing hardship or suffering, however, he reminds himself that photography can be a neutral experience as well. In this series the artist wants to remind the viewer that there is a special beauty even in suffering. The image “the pain of old wounds (III)” depicts a man sitting, shirtless, in a wheelchair. I assumed this was a man in a vulnerable state, in the midst of suffering. However, after spending more time with this image, I felt a sense of admiration for his ability to openly reveal his vulnerability in the midst of a painful experience. He was able to survive despite it. Though I felt challenged by this fragile, yet defiant portrayal, I was also moved by it.
the pain of old wounds (III), inkjet print on archival substance, 17 x 22 inches
Looking at each image in this small, quiet room reminds me of what it is like to be in the many painful moments of life, like after a surgery or even the pain of a simple flesh wound — everything between birth and death. However, we can always focus on the beauty of life and survive. We should not be afraid of these photographs’ “hurtful” subject matter, but rather approach it in the way we approach life: with all five senses, and a heart filled with compassion.
Victoria Filippo
Images are courtesy of the artist.
*Exhibition information: José María Mancía, the pain of old wounds, September 25 – October 6, 2024, Gallery 1313, Cell Gallery, 1313 Queen St. West, Toronto. Gallery hours: Wed – Sat 1 – 5 pm, Sun 1 – 4 pm.