From his perspective as "scientific advisor" for the exhibition at the National Museum of Fine Arts, which will remain open until August 2nd under the title "Itineraries between Argentina and Spain [1880-1930]," and as a qualified art historian, Rafael introduces us to the heart of this cultural dialogue.

"It brings together more than sixty works accompanied by a rich documentary collection that highlights the intense artistic relations that took place between both countries during those years. The exhibition has been made possible thanks to an agreement signed by the University of Granada [Spain] and the Buenos Aires museum, allowing curatorial and research teams from both sides of the Atlantic to work together."

With her artist's sensibility, Sonia, a distinguished contributor to this publication, shares her impressions with us—a delight we are happy to share with you.

"The crisp afternoon of an autumn Sunday beckoned me to stroll towards the National Museum of Fine Arts, where, interestingly, many young people and tourists were entering to view the various exhibitions and the ever-important Permanent Collection.

I went with the intention of visiting 'Artistic Itineraries between Argentina and Spain [1880-1930].' The exhibition, curated by the Museum's researchers Florencia Galesio, Paola Melgarejo, and Patricia Corsani, includes paintings, sculptures, prints, photographs, catalogs, and objects belonging to the Museum and other institutions."

His participation in a Parisian exhibition allows us to delve into the mind of an intellectual who was part of Argentine cultural life in the last century, the French writer Roger Caillois [1913-1978]. The retrospective, titled Rêveries de pierres [Daydreams of Stone], Irina explains, presented his mineral collection “as a central part of his work, of his ideas about art and nature, and of the process by which he began to see in these stones a writing somewhere between cuneiform and hieroglyphic, made by the Earth itself.”

In contemporary art, witnessing the genesis of a work firsthand, experiencing that magical act of creation, lends a special character to its subsequent possession.

A few days ago, we visited the studio of Giancarlo Puppo [1938], and his youthful 87 years filled us with a singular enthusiasm. Overflowing with his own works and objects collected from different eras, places, techniques, and materials, his workspace welcomes him every day. Day after day, he immerses himself in new creations, guided by an infinite desire to play with the mysteries of art and, we sense, to transcend.

"I come every day," he told us, "and in recent months, the themes that inspire me most have led me to work with festive scenes and ships [...]"

"On September 8, 1911, Pope Pius X decreed the coronation of Our Lady of Mount Carmel of Mendoza. For Christendom, this was a significant event not only because the Virgin was deeply intertwined with regional history, but also because General José de San Martín had adopted her as his patron saint. He even bequeathed her his staff of office—a fact that is part of this article. But that wasn't all. In 1861, a tremendous earthquake struck, which, among other disasters, destroyed the Church of San Francisco where the image and the staff were kept. We don't know exactly what happened to them, but very soon afterward, according to chroniclers of the event, the Virgin was rescued intact, considered a miracle, and was brought to safety; perhaps the same happened with the staff."

A collaborator of Hilario's in Argentina and now based in Europe, Ion, from Italy, immerses us in Milan Design Week, the design, art, and furniture event that attracts the world's attention, making this city "an open-air party."

There, "the most innovative trends converge in dialogue with traditions and the decay of an unguarded past, generally hidden from the view of the average citizen for the rest of the year.

There's a line to get into Palazzo Litta. The building spends most of the year closed, or almost. Now, however, the gate is open and a pink labyrinth occupies the 16th-century courtyard. People enter, wander around, take photos—lots of photos—as if everything were perfectly expected and logical. (...)

In our previous installment, we focused with particular interest on the career of art historian Héctor Schenone, a master of masters. And by a twist of fate, we now turn our attention to his dear friend and colleague, Adolfo Luis Ribera, another pillar of this discipline in Argentina, with enormous contributions, among many others, to the evolution of silversmithing in the region since viceregal times. His archive, donated to the National Academy of Fine Arts, is the centerpiece of an exhibition at the National Museum of Decorative Arts, and the curators share details of Ribera's life, his contributions, and legacy, as well as elaborating on the exhibition's themes.

"In a context of devaluation and threats to the public university system, presenting this documentary material is a contribution of singular importance for reflection, knowledge, and preservation of the national cultural heritage," they state.

Quizás este artículo se pueda resumir en un propósito: transmitir la alegría. Su autor, descendiente de un precursor de la fotografía argentina, disfruta en estas líneas ante el hallazgo de un colega oriental, también familiar del protagonista de la historia, otro daguerrotipista que formó parte del primer contingente de fotógrafos en el Plata, cuando el daguerrotipo y su sucesor, el ambrotipo, cautivaban el interés de la sociedad toda.

Abel enuncia algunos rescates familiares para felicitar a Martín Ospitaletche, tataranieto por su lado materno de Domingo Márquez [1815-1873], quien logra conformar «una rica biografía, mucho más humana, gracias a los testimonios acumulados a lo largo de cinco generaciones [...], descubriendo que, amén de su profesión fotográfica, [Márquez] se desempeñó como artista platero, dentista y hasta ejerció el cargo de alcalde Ordinario y capitán del Puerto en el mismo Departamento de Maldonado [Uruguay].

A discovery we are thrilled to share. The author of this remarkable story is a lawyer and amateur researcher who, by delving into his family saga, reconstructs the life of Domingo Márquez, the first photographer known to have worked in Maldonado.

"The oral tradition of my maternal family, passed down and enriched through several generations, has allowed me to learn numerous anecdotes about life in the 19th century in the Uruguayan department of Maldonado, some even dating back to the time of the British Invasions. Through this same tradition, I have received photographs, documents, and small objects that have brought these stories to life. And among so many stories and anecdotes, those about one of my great-great-grandfathers, Domingo Márquez, have always been of greatest interest to me. He was mentioned as a daguerreotypist, although the tales also revealed his other facets as a silversmith, dentist, and inventor."

Bruno Gruppalli's work captivates the gaze of the art historian and critic. Juan Cruz delves with insightful interest into the matters that inspire the artist.

"Gruppalli speaks of stickers, but the word doesn't just name an iconography. It names a status of the image. In platform communication, the sticker is a graphic unit of micro-exchange that adheres to a conversation. It comes from a brief history of affective signs: from the emoticon made with characters to the emoji stabilized as a pictogram; from there to the sticker as an available image. Once stamped in the chat, it is quickly reabsorbed into the flow of the conversation. In Gruppalli, this post-alphabetic logic appears diverted toward an earlier materiality. His figures not only insist on remaining, but also dispense with the vector smoothness of instant communication. They have, instead, the charms [...]"