Image by Pedro Salazar.
COFFEE WITH
DAYRA BENAVIDES: “THE PURPOSE OF MY WORK IS TO SOW AND HARVEST THE THEME OF LOVE”
Name: Dayra Benavides
Profession: Artist
Nationality: Colombian
Instagram: @dayra.benavides
LATINNESS: Dayra, I discovered your work at the recent Homo Faber Biennale, the platform for international artisans, in Venice. Your mask caught my attention, as well as the fact that you are Colombian. Tell us about your journey and how you got into mask craftsmanship.
DAYRA: I started making masks and costumes 15 years ago for the Carnival of Blacks and Whites in Pasto. Since I can remember, from around the age of five, I’ve been practicing art with my family, particularly with two wonderful teachers– my dad and my mom. They introduced me to the arts, painting, sculpture, dance, and yoga.
I also learned from the carnival school. It’s amazing because it is offered for free to children who are just beginning to absorb life. Imagine living in a city with such a powerful carnival. That’s why I love folk art—the kind that exists outside of academies, which can sometimes be much more visceral, honest and authentic. It allows you to read a city because the narrative is much more emotional, kinder, even.
Sometimes, when we get caught up in conceptual art, we go in other directions. I’ve done that too, but I chose the path I had traced as a child in connection with folk art. Since I was little, through my family, I’ve been training in dance and sculpture; I have a passion for volumes. I studied arts at the academy and after graduating, I went to Bogota to work with the musical group Aterciopelados, which I think you know.
Image by Jhon Mario Leyton.
Image by Carlos Benavides.
LATINNESS: Of course! And what did you do with them?
DAYRA: I work on the costumes with Andrea Echeverri, the vocalist. For me, they are portable sculptures.
In the midst of creating the works we invent together, the question arose: “And what about me? And my work? I want to make a costume too!” So, I began the search for my DNA or, better said, to find myself.
During one of my trips to Pasto, I realized that I came from a very powerful family that had been working for the carnival for a long time. Additionally, there are dancers in this family; I had never been part of that. I was the last to enter that world. When I arrived in Pasto, right in the middle of the carnival, I saw my mom getting dressed and thought, “What is this masterpiece?!” I wasn’t aware of the magnitude of what was happening in my house.
Sometimes we look for ourselves elsewhere, but it is often the case that our powerful, wonderful DNA is right in our home, in our house.
LATINNESS: You had to leave to come back, basically.
DAYRA: Yes, that’s powerful too, and I highly recommend it. To find yourself, you need to step away a bit… from your territory. We are the geography, and it’s good to leave your comfortable place and be unsettled in other places to realize your creative potential. Getting to know yourself through a journey is very powerful.
I was in Bogota for many years, and returned to Pasto to connect with my land and with the art I worked on as a child. That’s when I began exploring the theme of body sculpture. This sculpture is based on the ritual essence of the carnival, which is something super powerful because that aspect is not always felt when creating contemporary art. When I talk about it, I don’t even know how to describe it– dancing for a carnival, putting on a mask, it makes you feel as if you are invoking a lot of cosmic, healing, luminous deities, turning your dance into a very powerful entity for the spectator who witnesses that catharsis.
Image by Diego Cuevas.
LATINNESS: What did it mean to you to have your mask showcased at Homo Faber?
DAYRA: Through the mask displayed at Homo Faber, when I danced with my skirt and then saw all those photos on Instagram or Facebook, I felt like I was flying down the path… It’s a very powerful catharsis. It’s a sacred rite, very serious, very beautiful, and very necessary for the mental health of my being and for those who watch us. When I’m in that trance, I don’t just feel it myself; the people watching also become part of it and feel that love.
The purpose of my work is to sow and harvest the theme of love, even if it sounds a bit cliché. My peaceful purpose is to plant peace and love through color, shapes, and figures, so that when you see everything together, you feel a connection.
When observing the mask worn by the character in motion, spinning around, you can feel it. That character generally recreates the dance of the figures drawn on the skirt and of the paintings. That’s why I work a lot with spirals.
My dance is always done in a circle, in a spiral. The figures are representations from pre-Columbian culture of the Pasto and Quillacinga peoples, which are found in my territory. I work from that primitive place and take a journey to the contemporary; there I engage in a dialogue through dance.
“Know your village, and you will be universal,” said the philosopher Leo Tolstoy. I needed to be more aware of where I come from, from my village, from my family, and to embrace my own passions and show them to the world, to share them. I think it’s necessary to do so. For me, it’s about giving thanks for what I have received.
Through those spirals, I move and give. It’s an exercise of reciprocity with art and with the life I have, and in gratitude for all that I have been taught.
Image by Felipe Santana.
Image by Fer Guacas.
LATINNESS: How has the internationalization of your work come about?
DAYRA: Bogota is a very important city because it has connections to the world. There are many people from all over the planet working in art.
When you’re an artist, a doctor, or anything else, you meet the same people, those with whom you need to connect. In Bogotá, I found artistic connections with very powerful, wise, professional, sensitive, and loving people; these individuals opened the doors to the world for me, which is why my work became known universally.
From Bogota, I moved to the places where I have exhibited: in the United States, New York and New Orleans, as well as in Europe and South America. Even though I can be quite reclusive in Pasto, I think it’s important to connect and come out of the cave so that people can learn about and be filled with that powerful and beautiful energy that Pasto transmits, a city situated around ten volcanoes.
That’s why in Pasto, we believe we are very creative beings because there is a lot of fire, a lot of creative fire; we are the volcano itself, and that volcano needs to be taken to Bogota. That volcano needs to be shared with the world.
LATINNESS: Tell me about the Carnival of Pasto. What is it like?
DAYRA: Its name is the Carnival of Blacks and Whites of Pasto. The story goes that the Afro-descendants, who were enslaved at that time, wanted a day of rest. Back then, slavery was prevalent in the city of Popayán, which was the capital of Pasto. The celebration began as a day of rest, with the custom of painting themselves and even painting the houses black.
This celebration lasted for many years. Then it began to spread to the southern towns of Popayán, eventually reaching Pasto. In my city, the Day of Blacks is also celebrated. According to legend, during one of these celebrations, some people were tipsy in a tavern; some young ladies had brought powders to perfume their bodies, and a few decided to start playing with them. “Yesterday we celebrated the Day of Blacks, so today we will celebrate the Day of Whites.” That’s how the tradition began, starting with the Day of Blacks and then the Day of Whites during the carnival.
Today, it takes place annually from January 2 to 6. The main days are the Day of Blacks and the Day of Whites. The first day honors its patron: Melchor, one of the Three Wise Men.
Image by Diego Cuevas.
Image by Diego Benavides.
LATINNESS: What are your upcoming projects? What can we expect from Dayra Benavides?
DAYRA: Right now, I’m super happy to be in Paris, sketching in my notebooks because I’m working on the second season of the Netflix series adapting Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude.
In this season, which premieres in December, there’s a chapter where the author talks about the carnival. I’m part of the research and the proposal for one of the characters in that carnival of Macondo, so I’m really excited, creating for that significant and powerful Latin American boom that Gabriel García Márquez left us. We are doing it with a lot of responsibility, power, and strength to ensure that the series does justice to the book. It won’t be a hundred percent based on it; it’s an interpretation, but a tremendously powerful production is being created.
LATINNESS: I think it’s super responsible for a company like Netflix to hire someone who breathes, lives, and has worked closely with the carnival to ensure authenticity…
DAYRA: So that it feels real. So that when people watch it, they feel that those of us who are part of that carnival are its guardians in that moment.
On the team are my mom, my sisters, and my dad. Behind this Benavides name is the research of three generations of our popular festival, of which we consider ourselves guardians. And we truly are because we spend our time protecting and amplifying the voice of what happens in Pasto and in Colombia to raise awareness, sensitivity, and visibility.
LATINNESS: I read that, because of your nephew, you often visit schools to maintain and continue the traditions and techniques, and I think this Netflix project is also an excellent way to do that.
DAYRA: Of course, it’s about continuing to pay tribute. In other words, the voice of the carnival filters into those spaces where people always connect: television and social media, and that message needs to reach everywhere… even through Netflix.
My dream is that when people see this scene, they can say, “Wow! This is what exists in Colombia”… and what exists in the world, because many cities also have patronal, popular celebrations or similar rites. This helps us see ourselves and appreciate what happens in each region, in each country, in each home, and also encourages us to dare to share it, preserve it, respect it, and take care of it. Above all, to take care of it.
LATINNESS: How do you see the influence of the carnival on Colombian culture? Why is it important?
DAYRA: Throughout the world, the carnival was created after the arrival of the Black Death in Europe. Many people died, and those who survived began to celebrate life; that’s how carnivals were invented. Our carnival has Amazonian and Afro components; it also has European influences.
The essence of the carnival is playfulness, laughter and dance. It’s also about releasing fears and energetic burdens we don’t need through that dance, song, and play.
It’s very important for the physical and emotional health of human beings; that’s why being part of a carnival is vital because it allows you to play. And when you play, you return home lighter, calmer, and more at peace.
Whether you’re a carnival performer, a participant, or a spectator, you receive the same positive effect; that’s its purpose. These are very loving, necessary celebrations; they’re a bath of play, joy and cleansing. It’s like a shaman shaking his herbs, and the rue cleanses you, and you return home a little more at peace, a little more liberated. That’s why it’s necessary.
Images courtesy of Dayra Benavides.
