Portrait (of five artists) of a generation saved by cynicism
Five artists approaching thirty state that with their work they no longer expect to change the world, but to survive it: "We laugh collectively at our general defeat"
Palma“I think I can be the voice of my generation… Or at least a voice of a generation” is the most iconic phrase of the character Hannah Horvath in Girls, the series written by and starring Lena Dunham, which is already one of the best generational narratives of the early 21st century. In the case of Mallorca, in the midst of the 2020s, a whole host of young artists are giving voice to their generation. Anna Picornell, Miquel Mas, Lluïsa Febrer, Josep Alorda, and Mariona Jaume are five of them. With music, theater, drawing, cinema, and dance, respectively, they capture their Zeitgeist (the spirit of an era, in German). The moment they have to live through – like Hannah – grants them this fair dose of enthusiasm, marked by a realism that doesn't quite become pessimistic, and a need to define themselves shaped by social media.
Their creations fossilize the feelings of a cynical youth full of contradictions, turning them into a time capsule. Gone are the fear of failure and the idealization of art as a tool to change the world of past generations. Acid realism prevails, which sharpens their gaze even further and pushes them to create from criticism, but avoiding explicit denunciation. They make art from what affects them: the fallacy of opportunities, the excess of external gaze, the loss of identity of their territories, and the impossibility of having a life project.
Too late to be a 'popstar'
Anna Picornell (Palma, 1996)
Anna Picornell's first EP is about to be released under the title Too late to be a popstar, because for her “there is no more important theme than the feeling that it is already too late for us”. “In my case, to be a popstar, but also to buy a flat, have children or a partner,” she points out. However, her music shows a very generational paradigm shift: “It makes me cringe to talk about love towards a heterosexual man,” she admits. Picornell reflects on the figure of the pop star and its feminization: “It seems that if you haven’t achieved it by 25, that’s it”. The reality of the industry is another of the themes that runs through her discourse, with which she recalls that “only a very small percentage of artists live solely from their project”. “I have the feeling that some people are ashamed to say that they sing at weddings, hotels or give classes. It seems elitist to me, even,” she explains.
The display society
Miquel Mas (The White House, 1996)
In a decade, Miquel Mas has gone from creating his theatre company in Mallorca, Ovnipresents, to directing a play for the 50th season of the Teatre Lliure de Barcelona. Throughout this parabola – with plays like Souvenir, Burpees and, now, Bachata – he has always tried the same thing: “I start from something that happens to me and generates doubts. From the chat fishing of Les Penes del Jove Wether and the happycracy of Càndid or optimism to the condemnation of tourism in Souvenir, my plays deal with the display society filtered through capitalism. I think a lot about what image we project and what the real one is.” “This generates chronic dissatisfaction in us,” he adds. Mas's characters verge on mediocrity – through humour – because they are a reflection of their generation. “We are characterised by this spirit of memes and the cynicism of knowing that we won't change the world, but that we will have a good time. We laugh collectively at our general defeat,” he concludes.
The island we were and the island we want to be
Lluïsa Febrer (Sant Joan, 1995)
“It's been a year since I left social media and it's been a suicide as a creator. All my commissions have fallen,” points out Lluïsa Febrer, who questions the ability to live off art. “Drawing is one of the few things that made me feel free. That's why I've decided to become an employee and, when I have time and desire, I draw,” she explains. Along with this, she has set out to recover the oral tradition of storytelling: “I really like fables, but they are outdated. With storytelling, I want to talk about the things that affect us.” Her mentality is a reflection of the work she does, where she contrasts images of rage and scenes of a bright future, inspired by her context. “My generation acts as a bridge between the Mallorca we've been told about, the one we've inherited, and the one we want it to be,” she adds.
The myth of paradise
Josep Alorda (Sencelles, 1997)
Josep Alorda is a filmmaker, but admits that at one point he considered being a content creator. “I have always sought to explain the reality we have. It makes me angry that people think this is paradise”. His work is developed in parallel on social networks and the big screen: “Filming at Acampallengua and being chosen by GOB to make videos of demonstrations is as important as making a film”. Guaret was his first work, representative of this spirit: “I was interested in Damià Huguet for his figure. He was the first to demonstrate for Trenc, he held Floral Games for young people and created the Guaret publishing house”. After delving into the reality of the agricultural sector in Els dos pous, he is already preparing his next project, Mallorcaland, with which he documents “all the disasters that happen in a day in Mallorca from a tourist's perspective”.
The need for tenderness
Mariona Jaume (Sineu, 1998)
Nus is the latest project by dancer Mariona Jaume, a piece with an inevitably political tenderness. Co-created with Maya Triay, this project is born from the need to take care of oneself and "from a healing embrace". The contact of bodies is the protagonist of this work that "takes you away from everything that is happening in the world, and brings you to a parallel universe, where the body accepts you as you are". Nus takes over from S’Albufera, a choreography where this need to get closer to nature and "move away from all that is urbanizable" is also evident.u