The Sailor and The Mermaid

'A century ago, a young woman named Carmela with wavy hair and freckled skin is said to have had her family jewels melted down and sold in order to escape a forced marriage. Every Sunday, the wealthy popu lation of the island of Ibiza gathered at the ball in the old town, the ball pagès. It also happened that these dances full of ritual took place towards fountains and water sources, likely to bring the gestures back to the worship and celebration of mother earth and the cycles of life. Carmela, her mother, sisters and grandmothers, were dressed in these dresses of ribbon, velvet, fabrics with Spanish patterns and lace. They also wore 'emprendadas', traditional jewels made of gold and silver. The men wore cotton outfits, white and red, and a small rhythm instrument : carved wooden castanets. castanets. On rhythms of Arab origin, drum and flute, the women made small circles on themselves without ever turning their backs on the men who "galloped" around them. These ceremonies were in fact veritable institutions for marriage. Accepting neither injections nor submission, Carmela has always stayed away from these unbalanced waltzes of macho Spain. (...)'

One winter day, the almond trees full of flowers, fruit jellies on the table, fish stuffed with rosemary in the oven, her mother asked her to sit down. Next Sunday she will present her future husband to her, a wealthy toreador from San Joan, a widower, damaged by scars. The next day, Carmela decided to grab some jewellery and go to the local jewellers in town to have it melted down. She kept one adornment, the most sumptuous, which she hid behind the stones of the cistern in a small Andalusian chest. She then confided the secret of her location to the stones, which have been there observing for over a century. She went to bed with the money, blew out the candle, then fell asleep. The next morning, legend has it that, like Icarus, Carmela made herself wings out of the wax of the house candles, in order to escape through the sky. She disappeared. Like Icarus, she would have gone too close to the sun. She would have burned her wings and sunk into the abyss of the Mediterranean. It was then that several decades later, Pepito, a fisherman from the island, said he saw a gleam & glitter in the waters. Then a tail which swam there during the night. Charmed, he plunged his net and immediately caught by the mass a sleeping body with milky skin. He says it reassembled the body of a mermaid, a creature he cared for until it disappeared again, leaving behind the memory of fuel.'

Dear Carmela,

If you come back, will you tell us where the last emprendadas of the island are hidden ; those gold, silver, and coral jewels that you and your sisters used to wear during the dances ? I'm not talking about today’s jewelry, but the ones you melted down to reclaim the gold and escape marrying a man you didn’t love. My grandmother, whom you once cared for, told me. I’m proud of you.

I know there’s still a set hidden in a chest behind the stones of the cistern. You took the secret with you. But do the stones know ? Or maybe Pepito does. And yet, I never feel you far away.

What do you think of today’s rural dances ? Do you find them faithful to your wedding ceremonies at the fountains ? And the sweet wine, the oreilletes ? What of the women—of their role in the dance ?

What would you say about the cycles of this world, Carmela - you who stood against Franco’s regime and your own family ? What would you say about the way traditions are upheld today, for tourism, for the survival of your community and its customs ?

Carmela, you who are one of the spirits of this island, one of the souls of this place, perhaps you will find a way to reshape the contours of these dances and contribute to the struggle for women’s freedom and emancipation.

In the meantime, I take care of the house.

Emma

I imagine that one day Carmela will answer my call; she whispers in my ear that the roles, codes, and determinisms of the rural dances from her childhood remain intact. That today, however beautiful it may be, the religious, rural, and folkloric ball still does not work in favor of gender equality. Even now, as in Carmela’s time, it can encourage early marriages.

'Lulled by the supernatural and superstitious stories her Spanish, fortune-teller grandmother used to tell her, Emma Tholot has built a world of fantasy full of magicians, mermaids, ghosts, and divine children. These archetypal figures are the protagonists of a body of stories that she stages in protean installations. While photography and video are her preferred means of artistic exploration, her visual vocabulary is enriched by collages, sculptures and works on fabric which unfold in theatrically-inspired scenographic devices.

Her passion for oral traditions and popular culture has led her to explore and question the persistence of rituals in our contemporary world. She is particularly interested in the dances performed on the shores of the Mediterranean, and especially in Ibiza (her homeland).

With her analogue camera, Emma Tholot examines costumes, jewellery, hairstyles, and embroidery with the acuity of an ethnographer and the sensitivity of a visual artist. From this almost documentary collection, the artist imagines intimate, touching narratives that border on myth. In the Carmela series (2022–ongoing), for example, the artist portrays her grandmother’s nanny, who escaped a forced marriage thanks to wax wings... With finesse and poetry, the artist probes the ambivalent nature of these ancestral rituals, revealing the other side of these folkloric ceremonies, which perpetuate a patriarchal vision of society. The beauty of the jewellery and costumes must not mask the hierarchy of the sexes, as illustrated by the choreography in which young men “gallop” around the young women to be conquered. At once a family legend and tale of emancipation, Carmela takes the form of an installation bringing together a wide variety of media echoing one another. There are close-up photographs of hands covered in gold and silver rings, staged photographs that are transferred onto wax collected from churches, texts embroidered on hangings, trimmings, medallions resembling ex-votos, jingle bells... Emma Tholot collects the details of a decorum that she recomposes and re-enacts using scenographic devices inspired by street theater, moving from documentary to fiction and from reality to fantasy. It’s as if we were entering the backstage of a play just about to be performed, and in which we encounter the ghostly presence of its main protagonist: Carmela.

Beyond her initial fascination with the folklore and popular beliefs that inhabit the Mediterranean shores, Emma Tholot questions the hierarchy of the sexes as performed by these cultures during rites of passage. The artist celebrates the resistance and subversive power of women through the stories they pass on from generation to generation, as if to ward off the curse of male domination.'

Sonia Recasens, 67th Salon de Montrouge

Carmela, 2019 - 2023
Ibiza, Spain

Multiform installation:
“Triptych” – 3 photographs transferred onto wax, wood, metal, 20×25 cm, 2022
“Que no salga la Luna” – Satin, wire, metals, ribbons, 15×60 cm, 2023
“Pies, para qué los quiero, si tengo alas para volar” – Cotton, wire, silk, 24×8 cm, 2023
“The Sailor and the Mermaid” – Hand embroidery on antique sheet, steel structure, 80×330 cm, 2023
“Oro y manitas” – HD video, 6', 2023
Series of 20 color and black-and-white photographs, 35mm with velvet frames and sewing thread, 8×10 cm, 2019–2023
Ribbons and ex-votos transferred onto wax, variable dimensions, 2023