I developed a series of manual exercises to slow down my mind, occupy myself and avoid the negative daily news about the state of our current pandemic. This is a project about the value of walking, the materials surrounding us, and the impact they have on us.
Aug 30, 2020
Hugo Hoppmann
We have been dancing with ease for decades, on a Planet Earth that has its limits and showing this to us clearly, but we have turned a blind eye to its messages. We are pursuing a progress that leads us to the abyss, still we are always trying to run more! We need to stop dodging realities and present the planet new methodologies, materials and production systems that do not make us and our earth sick. What if progress means going back to the primitive?
Nature and crafts share a common denominator: patience. But we are always running, with modern running shoes, light and comfortable, which made us forget to appreciate what had been achieved to get here. We got too comfortable noticing it, our only objectives are the goals in front of us.
This is an exercise with which I try to invite us to rethink our relationship with nature through the materials that surround us. How to preserve what our ancestors worked with and what we can take over in order to build new perspectives: how to walk and not rush, how to observe and learn. Not to blindly continue running, but understanding where we are going. And for all this, patience and presence is needed.
In this experiment I used the sandal as a metaphor for slowing down, as an object for walking and not running, making tangible contact with nature and my environment during this time, through the materials used, moving forward with my feet on the earth and with the rhythm that they allow us. We have never been able to run in sandals. You can't win a race if you don't know where the goal is.
The finished sandals, handcrafted with traditional tools and made by natural fibers from the Canary Islands.
Hugo Hoppmann: Octavio, could you tell us more about your process of making A Primitive Walk, from beginning to end?
Octavio Barrera: It was really quite improvised, it was not a premeditated project. The pandemic surprised me while traveling back from Gambia and Senegal, and it truly hit when I arrived on the Canary Islands. When we learned we could not return to Barcelona, we spent the next weeks in lockdown in Gran Canaria, and stayed at the home of my mother-in-law. I didn't have any of my usual tools with me to work with, so I began to draw a lot and collect materials from my surroundings. After some days had gone by I started to experiment with the treasures I had collected on my walks, and all of a sudden everything was progressive, an almost addictive process, my moment of disconnection. With every new day that I put myself to work, it motivated me more and more. I developed a new sandal almost every day, and it slowly became a routine exercise. At the end of the confinement, I had made ten different models. My girlfriend suggested to document and photograph all pieces, and here we are! Fully involved in one more project without realizing it.
How was a typical day for you in this period? How did you handle it all?
I tried to handle the situation the best possible way. I'm a quite active and nervous person, and in those days I felt grateful and soft at first, then overwhelmed, and finally I reached a state of mental tranquility. I went through various types of routines in that month and a half. First, I tried to make my days more regular, as if nothing had happen. Then I was overwhelmed because I did not feel fulfilled and I was far from my home and workshop. In the end, I took it as a new episode on a daily basis.
How did you first discover the arts and craft history of the Canaries?
Since I started studying at the Gran Canaria School of Art, materials such as stone, clay and wood attracted my attention. We had many classes in which we worked with them but it was when I moved to Barcelona in 2010 that I started to be interested in the crafts of the Canary Islands, the use of traditional clay methods, volcanic stone and palm leaf work.
After I finished my studies I went on a 40-day roadtrip adventure with a friend, where we crossed the whole Canarian archipelago visiting artisans and people of the traditional Canarian way of life. This helped us understand the culture of the islands beyond sun and beach. As a result we launched a documentary and publication about the trip. From then on there was a clear 'before and after' for me when it came to the perception of the archipelago and its culture.
How was your experience growing up and living in Gran Canaria?
Having grown up on an island has certainly conditioned my personality in a specific way, as living on an island is a continuous struggle of love and hate. One day you feel the extreme need to break out into the world and widen your horizon, but after you are gone for a while nostalgia knocks at your door heavily. I have always felt proud to be born in a geographical point with such a unique cultural identity, and having had the possibility of a direct relationship with the sea and the mountains from a very young age. At the end of the day, everyone lives their own life on the Canary Islands, but as I usually say, islands are really like tiny continents, and no matter how small they may seem, there are always new places and corners to discover.
Why did you feel the need for slowing down personally? Was this reflection something that the pandemic provoked?
Yes, I think so. As I mentioned, I'm a hyperactive person, my head does not stop. It's something that often ends up tiring me. I want to approach things from another perspective. Spending time outside your normal routine and habits makes you assess whether the direction you are going and that desire for speed are necessary for your day to day. From my point of view, apart from the obvious negative sides of the pandemic, it has served as a well needed reflective exercise for our society.
What are some other valuable things you have learned from this special year so far?
My priorities have been turned upside down, and I found myself valuing simpler things such as time. Not only free time, but time with oneself, time for introspection, time with those close to you, with your family, with your partner. This is all subconsciously reflected in the direction in which you walk day by day.
I saw that skateboarding is a big part of your life. Could you tell us more about this and the connection between skateboarding and design and life for you?
Skateboarding has always played a very important role in my life. Rather then a lifestyle, skateboarding has been the key tool to sharpen my senses, my interest to investigate and discover. I have had the opportunity to travel thanks to this artifact from a very young age. It really was a passport with wheels for me and my chance to meet interesting people and incredible places.
More than a sport, skateboarding is a form of expression. Many skaters are also a part of the world of art, photography, and architecture. Skateboarding encourages you to be an observer and goes hand in hand with exploring, traveling and having fun using the city as a stage.
How do you stay focused, stay in the moment?
It's difficult for me to stay focused on one thing for a long time. But when I draw or work with my hands, time slows down. When I see the clock and the hours that have passed by, I understand that this is what makes me stay focused.
What does being present mean to you?
I understand it in several ways, but perhaps, the main reason to be present is to be active, to live in today and not in the future. Often we take try to foresee future situations and generate unnecessary limitations or anxieties. For this reason, I think it is better to be shooting in the present, without trying to predict a future that has not yet arrived.
Thank you, Octavio!
Octavio on IG
Photography by Ampi Aristu
Originally Published in
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