Written by Josée Thissen-Rojer.

The current COVID-19 pandemic has shaken up everyone’s daily lives to some extent and things are no different in the visual arts sector. In this series, we visit local visual artists and ask what changes they’ve experienced and how they’re dealing with the situation. This time, we are in Seru Fortuna, in artist Omar Sling’s studio.

Omar Sling (Curaçao, 1976) describes himself as a self-taught recycle artist. One of his works can be found on Plaza Jojo Correa in Punda and is called ‘3 lil birds’. Three huge ‘suikerdiefjes’ (bananaquit birds) stand on a fence proudly puffing out their yellow chests. Their wings are folded forward to hold their colorful instruments. Despite its size, it’s an endearing ensemble that stands out in the streetscape. The birds are made of recycled materials, but it’s done in such an ingenious way that you don’t notice it right away. Omar is very modest when he talks about himself, and the popularity of his sculpture in Punda still astonishes him.

During his youth, music is his main focus. Omar is taught by musicians such as Richard Doest and Mito Martis. He learns to play various instruments such as drums, cuatro, bass guitar and trumpet. “The quality or material of an instrument isn’t really that important,” says Omar, “A good musician just knows how to entertain the audience with his music.” Until the age of 15, he has his own band with some friends, with the mischievous name ‘Suta Kuero’ (Whip Skin). Their instruments consist of buckets and cans. At the end of the eighties, he notices that there is little appreciation for his imaginative musical skills. In retrospect, he realizes that teenage shame led him to quit.

In 2001 Omar goes to the Netherlands for his continuing education at the Graphic Lyceum Amsterdam. He returns as a graphic designer in 2006 and soon finds himself with more work than he can handle. He works long days but earns a lot and is doing well. Then his health starts to suffer and that forces him to stop temporarily. When he tries to re-enter the labor market after his illness, he is unsuccessful. He’s unemployed for a long time and to distract himself he starts creating things with all kinds of leftover materials. Everything he makes, he puts up or hangs up in his living room. Reflecting on it now, he admits that it was quite a lot at one point.

One day, a friend, Nataly Pas, persuades him to apply to participate in a new exhibition organized by Helen de Haas-Elisabeth, for the former Kas di Kultura. This exhibition in 2013, ‘Libertat’, turns out to be his stepping-stone into the art world. He notices that his submission receives a lot of attention from curators and that it invokes a lot of discussion. Invitations to other exhibitions follow. His success gives him more and more self-confidence and over time he realizes that he’s making his living as an artist.

He is delighted when he receives a prestigious assignment from the Totolika parents’ association in 2018. In honor of their 45th anniversary, they ask him to make a work of art for the entrance of the association’s building on the Uteweg. Omar creates a sculpture consisting of a large and a small totolika (common ground dove) bird, which are placed opposite each other. The bird chick has its beak wide open in front of the parent bird. This design is Omar’s way of communicating the mission statement of the association, which was founded to support children with physical and mental disabilities, and to offer them a safety net. He gives it the title ‘Duna ta haña, haña ta duna’ (Giving is taking, taking is giving). The artwork is festively unveiled during the anniversary celebration and the parents’ association is very pleased with the result.

The year 2020 is off to a good start with lots of demand for his popular Kokoyoko workshops and many assignments. The first lockdown is announced in mid-March, and this is a period that Omar doesn’t like to think about. Like the rest of the island, his life comes to a screeching halt. Workshops and appointments are canceled, and Omar is at home with his whole family instead. Luckily, he has just received an order for a new work of art, from Banco di Caribe.

That assignment gives Omar enough to pass the time, but other problems present themselves. Stores are closed which makes it difficult to obtain certain tools and parts such as welding wire or screws. Omar has a cozy but small house, and he uses a roof overhang from his house and part of his garden as his studio. He is used to being home alone in the morning, drilling, hammering, sawing, and sanding to his heart’s content. Because his family is at home now, he is limited in what he can work on. The children are doing distance education and his wife is also working from home. Omar keeps having to interrupt his work because it creates too much noise for his family members. When Omar reflects on this now, he can put these events into perspective, but back then it was a stressful period.

The artwork he creates during the lockdown is a statue group titled ‘Hasi Awa Biña’ (Turn Water into Wine). The work is placed at the bank’s customer entrance, on a plateau above the pond. On the plateau, two robots are filling up pitchers at a water tap. The kneeling male robot pours the water into the chalice held by a female robot. In that chalice, the clear water changes and takes on a wine-red color. Omar indicates that there’s a lot of personal symbolism in the work. The central act of turning water into wine symbolizes life, which he sees as the greatest miracle.

The two figures are made entirely from recycled materials. Omar very consciously reuses only contemporary items for his work, so that it’s also documenting our current times. He is most proud of the mechanics in this art piece. It took him a lot of time and effort to get it right. The water changes color and circulates within the sculpture group, but he has managed to completely hide the mechanism. It must be done that way to properly express this miraculous scene.

‘Hasi Awa Biña’ (Turn Water into Wine)

Milton Pietersz is a regular bank customer and he thinks this is a fantastically beautiful work of art because it intrigues him. Every time he walks by it grabs his attention and there’s always something new to discover. Every part and the way in which it’s applied evokes amazement and admiration in him.

This year’s lockdown hits Omar even harder. This time he has no new assignment or income, and he’s critical of the fact that the government does not have a separate regulation for visual artists. After the lockdown, it is difficult to start back up, and with three growing, school-age children, that gives him a lot of stress. He’s doing better now and is involved in, among other things, the Global Entrepreneurship Week, for giving a series of workshops ‘Di potoshi pa ganashi’, in which he teaches entrepreneurs to think creatively.

Initially, Omar made his money from discarded items out of necessity. It has now become an ideology and way of life for him. His hope is that he can make an impact on the community through his art and his projects. More people need to understand the usefulness, necessity, and effectiveness of recycling. He would like to see the government stimulate initiatives like his, so that everyone can contribute. Because eventually, things must change, Omar is sure of that.

This post was made possible by the financial support of Prins Bernhard Cultuurfonds Caribisch Gebied.
Previously published in Amigoe on November 29, 2021. Photographs by Ken Wong.

This text, in whole or part, may only be reproduced with reference to the source: Curaçao Art®️, www.curacao-art.com, and the author. Copyright of the artworks remains the property of the artist.