Last January, Maria Nepomuceno received critical acclaim for her wildly amorphous hammocks, made from ropes and beads, which hung throughout the Stockholm museum Magasin 3 like vegetation in a lush Brazilian garden, transforming the sterile white cubes into vibrant spiritual centers. The young Brazilian artist continues exploring the spiritual in new pieces debuting at Victoria Miro gallery, in London, through June 12. Marina Cashdan spoke with Nepomuceno about her practice and the current show.

In your work, metaphors for the body and nature are central. Can you talk a bit about this?

The principal of my work is the coexistence of opposite forces, such as flux (movement) and retention (inertia) and also unity (synthesis) and division/multiplication. These forces are in everything that lives, from the infinite universe to a small plant, and also in us, in both physical and mental ways.

What is the significance of the spiral in your work in general and in the pieces you’re showing at Victoria Miro in particular?

For me the spiral means infinite transformation. It always makes the same movement, but always into a new path. The spiral takes me, at the same time, to the deepest place of my being and to the infinite mystery. It is the movement of the umbilical cord, of cyclones, planets, dna, galaxies, the universe. Louise Bourgeois has an amazing definition. She says that the spiral is all about control and freedom. The show at Victoria Miro keeps the same idea — the same movement but in a new moment! I enjoy saying that my work is like a mantra.

The press release for the show says: "Nepomuceno’s work . . . has a particular affinity with the ideas of Lygia Clark and Hélio Oiticica, who established parallels between their own aesthetic systems and those of the real world, worked with everyday materials, and maintained that art must be subjective and vital." Can you relate the materials you use to the practices of Clark and Oiticica? Were these artists influential in your young practice — when you were an art student, for example?

One of the symbolic meanings of the ropes and beads is a reference to feminine and masculine forces. I see the beads also as the first element for the construction of tridimensionality. The bead is the point, and the rope is the line. The braided straw puts me in contact with my Indian origins, and the delicate planes of carnauba leaves are braided in a spiral to become resistant volumes.

Many artists have influenced my work, like Louise Bourgeois, Eva Hesse, Constantin Brancusi, René Magritte, Maria Martins, Tunga, and also Lygia Clark and Hélio Oiticica. Each one has influenced me in a different way. From Oiticica’s work, I like his interest in popular culture — Carnival, for example. For Lygia Clark, I like her viscerality and capacity to transcend art.

Can you talk about your relationship with A Gentil Carioca and the gallery’s influence in Rio?

I met [the artist and A Gentil Carioca cofounder] Ernesto Neto at the beach about eight years ago. In Rio, everybody meets everybody at the beach! One day, about one year after he opened A Gentil Carioca, he came to my studio. Some weeks later, he came back with his partners, Marcio Botner and Laura Lima, to invite me to participate in a group show, and three months afterward, they invited me to do my first solo show.

A Gentil Carioca seems like home to me. I really love its energy. It’s a unique gallery in Brazil. It’s managed by three artists, and it offers a special complicity between artist and gallery. That’s really important, especially for young artists who don’t have much (or any) experience in the art market.

Is working with a gallery like A Gentil Carioca different from working with galleries in Europe like Victoria Miro and Magasin 3 in Stockholm? Does this reflect the differences between the contemporary-art scene in Brazil versus that in Europe or the United States?

I don’t think about it in terms of South America versus Europe and the United States. The most important question isn’t "Where are they from?" but "In which direction are they going?" In my opinion, A Gentil Carioca, Victoria Miro Gallery, and Magasin 3 are going in the same direction, looking for new expressions and plurality in art all over the world. Of course, that happens with cultural and economic differences.

In Brazil it’s very difficult for artists to show their work and even more difficult to make a living from art. We don’t have much support from the government, and there are only a few places dedicated to contemporary art. Private initiatives like A Gentil Carioca gallery play a fundamental role in the exchange of experiences between artists by opening its doors to unknown artists to show their works and democratizing the access to contemporary art for the population. A Gentil Carioca runs many projects that bring together society and contemporary art.

Has being Brazilian contributed to the aesthetics or sensibility of your work?

Certainly my origins are very important to me, and they are part of my work. Three years ago, I went to the northeast of Brazil, in the region of my ancestors, to research the braided straw. I also buy most of my materials from a store that sells Carnival items and materials.

For sure, Brazil is part of my work, but I like to travel through time and go to the past to think about my really primitive origins and dna memories. I’m inspired by the mythical idea of an ancestral womb and the essential force that is in everything that lives and that sustains the universe. It’s always my intention to evoke the pure vital energy.

Through June 12, 2010 victoria-miro.com

"Interview: Maria Nepomuceno" originally appeared in the Summer 2010 issue of Modern Painters. For a complete list of articles from this issue available on ARTINFO, see Modern Painters' Summer 2010 Table of Contents.