LOLA MORA

(1867 – 1936)

“Cada uno ve en una obra de arte lo que de antemano esta en su espíritu, el ángel o el demonio están siempre combatiendo en la mirada del hombre”

Dolores Mora de la Vega vino al mundo en el seno de una familia pudiente. Su padre era un prospero hacendado de linaje criollo que poseía estancias en Tucumán y Salta, y su madre, hija de terratenientes tarijeños. Nació en el Tala, territorio salteño, y fue bautizada en la localidad tucumana de Trancas en 1866, donde transcurrió su primera infancia.

Cuando los hermanos Mora tuvieron edad escolar, la familia se estableció en la ciudad de Tucumán donde llevarían una vida apacible y holgada, no carente de lujos. A pesar de ello, no formaban parte de la elite social tucumana, aunque aspiraban a hacerlo. Eran considerados gente de “campo” y, para peor, había en la historia de la madre un hijo natural, episodio bastante difícil de digerir.

Repentinamente, graves acontecimientos se abatieron sobre la familia. Primero muere el padre y a los dos días la madre. La vida acomodada que llevaban hasta entonces se disipa, y los huérfanos quedan a cargo de la hermana mayor quien contrae matrimonio a poco de morir los progenitores.

En 1887 llega a la provincia su primer maestro, el italiano Santiago Falcucci pintor de rígida formación académica. Lola toma clases particulares. Con una “voluntad rebelde, inquebrantable, pertinaz”, dibuja y pinta ansiosamente, absorbiendo de su maestro el estilo neoclásico y romántico que luego determinará toda su obra.

El primer trabajo ambicioso de la futura escultora fue el retrato del entonces gobernador de Salta, el que realizó a fin de lograr que este ayudara a su familia en cierto pleito que tenía con la provincia. Pero lo que verdaderamente puso su nombre en boca de toda la sociedad tucumana, y le mereció el reconocimiento gubernamental, fueron los retratos de los gobernadores tucumanos realizados en carbonilla, que presentó en una exposición organizada por la Sociedad de Beneficencia. Colección que obsequió a la provincia, y por la que sin embargo fue recompensada monetariamente.

Falcucci la impulsa a volar del nido provinciano, le recomienda que viaje a Buenos Aires. Decidida viajará y se presentará ante la Legislatura de la Nación solicitando una subvención para continuar con sus estudios en Europa. Hubo algunos reparos, pero sin embargo le fue otorgada, y Lola, a los 29 años, partiría a Roma con algunas cartas de recomendación.

A poco de instalarse en la capital italiana, estableció excelentes relaciones con el embajador argentino, quien le abriría las puertas de la alta sociedad romana y la posibilidad de formarse con los mejores maestros.

Son estos últimos, los que la inducen a iniciarse en el arte escultórico, el que de inmediato la cautiva. A Lola le emociona la lucha con la materia y, sin dudar cambia el pincel por el cincel. Se relaciona indistintamente con la nobleza del mármol, el bronce, la arcilla, la cerámica, el yeso y la piedra. Trabaja febrilmente, vistiendo aquel atuendo que tanto la caracterizaría: bombachas salteñas y una boina vasca. Alterna el trabajo con una nutrida vida en sociedad, en aristocráticos salones.
Europa la aplaude, expone y obtiene premios. Impactan los rostros y torsos que modela, recibe encargos de familias nobles europeas y su trabajo es bien remunerado. La atención de la prensa le da brillo y popularidad. Sorprende que esta mujer americana, de menuda figura, de manos finas y delgadas, de tupida cabellera negra y de hermosos ojos negros posea tan ardiente energía y perseverancia.

Hacia 1900, tantas referencias admirables cruzan el océano y no tardan en concretarse los primeros encargos que la convertirían por varios años en la afamada escultora oficial del gobierno argentino, y en una especialista en escultura monumental y de temática patriótica.

Sin embargo, la Buenos Aires puritana no deja de lanzar diatribas contra la artista. Lola, escultora profesional, amiga de artistas, independiente, radicada en Italia y habitualmente rodeada de hombres, es una perfecta prostituta para la ceguera intolerable del conservadurismo rioplatense.

Su obra más famosa y más controvertida será la «Fuente de las Nereidas». A pesar de las habladurías acerca de los modelos masculinos que la inspiraron, a los desnudos considerados por algunos como inmorales y a los rumores que ponían en duda su autoría, la escultura fascinó y su inauguración se concretó en un gran acto público.

Era asombrosa la capacidad de Lola para trabajar frente a tanto encargo argentino. Incansable, construía las obras en su taller romano, luego viajaba a Argentina para instalarlas, superando, además, las grandes dificultades que se le presentaban ante el incumplimiento de los pagos por parte de los gobiernos.

Un acontecimiento mayúsculo viene a reforzar la aureola de éxitos de Lola; la visita a su atelier de la reina Elena y la reina madre Margarita de Saboya, quienes la colman de elogios, hecho poco habitual en Italia para un artista extranjera.

Hacia finales de la primera década del siglo XX, después de haber alcanzado la gloria, Lola iniciaría un descenso tan cruel como vertiginoso que ensombrecería su horizonte artístico.

En Argentina el panorama político había cambiado, radicales y socialistas fustigaban el régimen anterior, y los conservadores trataban de despegarse de su pasado. La escultora era una representante de la era conservadora y su figura funcionó como un oportuno chivo expiatorio que había que atacar. Lola había sido protegida de Roca y Mitre y amiga de su corte, ellos la habían ensalzado y habían hecho que el estado le comprara sus obras. Ahora, ya no estaban en el poder o habían muerto.

Sus días de triunfo habían acabado. Dejó de recibir encargos oficiales, perdió concursos, y ganó otros que no se concretaron por falta de fondos. Le suspendieron contratos, su obra fue objeto de atentados o retirada de sus emplazamientos. A ello se sumó su casamiento con un hombre 15 años menor que ella, que avivó las habladurías y el escándalo.

En 1917, el fracaso de su matrimonio y la muerte de su hermana mayor la devolvieron a su país. Lo primero que resolvió fue dejar la escultura, sus trabajos artísticos ya no le interesaban a nadie. Con su indomable temple se embarcó en nuevos negocios como la creación de un sistema que permitía proyectar películas a plena luz del día, invento que finalmente no pudo comercializar. Tampoco pudieron concretarse sus proyectos de construcción de un túnel y un teatro romano.

Dilapida lo que resta de su fortuna en Salta, donde compra tierras que explora en busca de petróleo. Tenaz vive en las cumbres, a veces durmiendo al aire libre. Después de tres años de búsqueda infructuosa, ya sin dinero para pagar a los obreros, soberbia y obsesionada, se queda sola. Tiene sesenta años y está hambrienta. Un arriero la encuentra inconsciente.
Luego vive diez años en el “Plaza Hotel de Salta”, donde no le cobran el hospedaje. La anciana sigue fantaseando con grandiosas empresas, pero también le pesan las pérdidas, y con gesto altivo le confiesa a un periodista: “No cuente usted nada. No escriba usted nada. Van a creer que me quejo. Nunca me he quejado, ni me doblé jamás”.

Enferma y sin recursos, sus sobrinas la llevan a Buenos Aires. Murió en 1936. Por esos días aparecieron extensas notas necrológicas en las principales publicaciones argentinas, Caras y Caretas, por ejemplo, comentaba:

«Siempre nos sorprende la tragedia del talento olvidado. Ahora más, al herir a una mujer, a la primera mujer argentina, cuya vocación supo afrontar las dificultades del mármol, los laboriosos primores del modelado de la arcilla.»

Lola Mora rechazó de plano el destino provinciano que le aguardaba y supo fijarse objetivos con una voluntad indomable, dispuesta a cualquier sacrificio. Produjo a lo grande para la ciudad y su público. Triunfó, y luego afrontó con el mismo vigor su descenso, sin capitular. Fue criticada por su afán de notoriedad y su astucia para vincularse con personas de poder. No rompió con ningún canon ni fue una adelantada, pero su obra llamativa y conmovedora habla de su exquisito talento artístico. Y si en su arte no fue una revolucionaria, sí fue una revolución que una mujer lograra lo que ella logró en su tiempo. Y sí no fue feminista, si fue un ser desprejuiciado y libre que se abrió camino a martillazos, empuñando el cincel, escandalizando y pagando un alto precio por oponerse a los mandatos sociales de su época.

Su figura fue ensalzada primero y olvidada después. A fines del siglo XX es reconocida como la primera escultora argentina y la fecha de su natalicio se instituyó como “El Día Nacional del Escultor y de las Artes Plásticas”

LOLA MORA

(1867 – 1936)

“Each one of us sees in a work of art whatever already lies in our spirits, either the angel or demon who are in constant struggle in the eyes of every man.”

Dolores Mora de la Vega was born in a well-to-do family. Her father was a rich farmer of good lineage who had ranches in Tucumán and Salta and her mother was the daughter of prominent landowners from Tarija in Bolivia. Lola was born in El Tala, within Salteñan territory, and later baptised in the village of Trancas in Tucumán in 1866. She would spend her first childhood years there.

When the Mora children were old enough to attend school, the family moved to the city of Tucumán where they led a quiet, comfortable, but at the same time, luxurious life. Despite their wealth, the family did not move in the circle of the social elite from Tucumán, even though they wanted to. People regarded them as “country folk” and, to make matters worse, Lola’s mother had had a son out of wedlock, which was unacceptable at that time.

Eventually, the family had to face a series of grave events. The father died unexpectedly and two days later, the mother passed away, too. This put a sudden end to their well-off lifestyle and the eldest sister, who got married soon after this, was left in charge of the younger orphans.

In 1887 the Italian painter Santiago Falcucci arrived in Tucumán. His academic formation had been rigid and eventually, he became Lola’s first teacher. She received private lessons and with “a rebellious, unyielding and obstinate willpower”, the girl drew and painted anxiously and absorbed from Falcucci the neoclassic and romantic style which would later pervade her work.

The first ambitious piece of the future sculptress was a portrait of the then governor of Salta, which she carried through to help her family with a certain dispute they had with the province. However, what really made her the talk of the town and earned her the government’s recognition was a series of charcoal portraits of the governors of Tucumán, which she displayed in an exhibition organised by the local charity society. She later gave away the collection as a present to the province, even though she had already received a monetary prize for it.

In the course of time, Falcucci encouraged her to leave the provincial nest and suggested she should go to Buenos Aires. Lola felt determined and made the journey. In the capital, she presented herself to the national legislature and asked for a grant to continue her studies in Europe. There were some objections, but she finally was given the money and, at the age of 29, Lola travelled to Rome bearing several letters of recommendation.

Shortly after settling in the Italian capital, she established excellent relations with the Argentine ambassador, who opened the door to Roman upper class for Lola and made it possible for her to train with the best teachers.

These teachers introduced Lola to the art of sculpture, which captivated her at once. She felt thrilled by the struggle against physical matter and replaced her brushes for the chisel without hesitation. She worked indistinctly with marble, bronze, clay, ceramic, plaster of Paris and stone. Her activity was feverish and in the atelier she wore her characteristic attire of gaucho “bombachas” (wide trousers) and Basque beret. However, she alternated her work with an active social life in aristocratic salons.

Europe applauded her; her works were exhibited and won awards. The faces and torsos she modelled made profound impressions; Lola started to take commissions from noble European families and her work was well paid for. Thanks to the attention of the press, she gained a certain poise and popularity. People were amazed by the ardent enthusiasm and perseverance of this American woman of small frame, slender delicate hands, thick dark hair and beautiful black eyes.
Towards 1900, these glowing references crossed the ocean and Lola started to receive the first of many commissions that would eventually turn her in the noted official sculptress of the Argentine government and a specialist in monumental sculpture of patriotic themes.

Nevertheless, the puritan Buenos Aires of that time never ceased to launch into furious tirades about the artist. Lola, who was a professional sculptress, a friend of artists, an independent woman living in Italy and constantly surrounded by men, was regarded as a perfect prostitute by the blind bigoted conservatives of the River Plate.

Also around this time she produced her most famous and controversial work, the “Font of the Nereids”. Despite some malicious gossip about the male models that inspired her, the nudity which some people considered immoral and the rumours which questioned her authorship, the piece fascinated the public and its opening became a grand open ceremony.

Lola had an amazing capacity for work to finish so many Argentine commissions. A tireless artist, she sculpted the pieces in her studio in Rome and then travelled to Argentina to install them, sometimes overcoming great difficulties which arose from the government’s failure to keep up with due payments.

Another grand event of that time also contributed to strengthening Lola’s aura of success: Queen Elena of Italy and Queen Mother Margarita of Savoy visited her atelier and showered her with praise, which was an unusual occurrence for a foreign artist in Italy.

Towards the end of the first decade of the 20th century, after achieving glory, Lola Mora would begin a process of cruel and vertiginous descent which would cast a shadow on her artistic horizon.

In Argentina the political situation had changed: radicals and socialists upbraided the former regime and the conservatives were trying to shake off their past. The sculptress was a representative of the Conservative era and her persona served as a suitable scapegoat to attack. Lola Mora had been a protégé of Roca and Mitre and a friend of their court: they had extolled her art and made the state buy her pieces; now, they were not in power or had already died.

Her days of triumph were gone. She ceased to receive official commissions, lost art contests or won others which were never carried out for lack of funds. She had contracts suspended and some of her sculptures were damaged or removed from their original location. On top of this, her marriage to a man 15 years her junior only stoked rumours and scandal.

In 1917, the failure of her marriage and the death of her eldest sister brought Lola Mora back to Argentina. First, she resolved to quit sculpture because her art was nobody’s interest. Then, with her usual indomitable spirit, she embarked on some new ventures such as the invention of a system to project films in broad daylight, which she could never commercialise, or the construction of a tunnel and a Roman theatre.

She squandered the rest of her fortune in Salta, where she bought lands in the hope of finding petroleum in them. Stubborn as ever, she moved to the mountains and sometimes slept outdoors to take part in the search. After three years of fruitless surveys and without any money to hire labourers, she was left on her own. She was sixty years old and hungry. After some time, a herder found her unconscious.

Afterwards, she lived at the “Plaza Hotel Salta” whose owner did not charge her for accommodation. Although the old rambling lady still fantasised about grandiose schemes, her losses also weighed heavily on her. With one of her last arrogant gestures, she once confessed to a journalist, “Say nothing. Write nothing. Otherwise, people may think I am complaining. I have never complained about a thing; nor have I ever given in.”

Her nieces finally took a sick and deprived Lola to Buenos Aires, where she died in 1936. In the days after her death, the most important newspapers and magazines published long obituaries. One of them, which appeared in “Caras y Caretas”, read,

“The tragedy of forgotten talent always comes as a shock, and even more so in this case, when it has hurt a woman, the first Argentine woman whose vocation managed to overcome the obstacle of marble and the painstaking care of clay modelling.”

Lola Mora flatly refused to be satisfied with the provincial destiny which awaited her. Willing to make any sacrifice, she set herself goals which she achieved with an indomitable spirit. She created great works for the city and her public. She triumphed and then faced defeat with the same vigour, without surrender. She was criticised for her thirst for notoriety and her cunning ability to connect herself with powerful people. Although she did not break with the artistic canons nor produced a body of work ahead of her time, her striking and moving pieces are the expression of an exquisite talent. Her art may not have been avant-garde, but the revolution lay in her many achievements at a time when women usually faded into the background. Lola was never a feminist, but a free unprejudiced woman who made her way with hammer blows and by clutching her chisel, sometimes surrounded by scandal and eventually having to pay a high price for opposing the social conventions of her time.

Her persona was once praised but then forgotten. Towards the end of the 20th century, she was recognised as the first Argentine sculptress and the date of her birth was officially declared “National Sculptor’s and Plastic Arts’ Day.”