¿CÓMO TE GUSTARÍA SER RECORDADO? | PEDRO FRIEDEBERG en Cracks Podcast #349

For people who have beliefs or religions, destiny is very important, isn't it? I'm almost completely atheist. When I look at nature around me, I would like to believe in God a little. I don't understand the concept of God. I don't like it very much. We ridiculed everything. Everything seemed very funny and very curious to us, very absurd. And the absurd is one of the bases of surrealism, imagining things that one has never seen. This is a gift given to very few people, isn't it? Most people eat very square and very sad lives limited to the conventional. The chair by hand. They brought me one like a tree root that had a shape, kind of like what it is, right? It's a joke. As a sculpture, it's quite ugly. As a chair, it's more or less comfortable. And he saw that thing and said, it's a surreal chair. I'll take two. You say you've sold more than 5,000 chairs?

Oh, no, I didn't count them. With the counterfeits, I probably did. A contemporary of Matthias Jarrett's, Remedios Vero, Leonora Carrington, Diego Rivera and Edward James, Pedro is an eccentric genius, an architect of the absurd and one of Mexico's most irreverent artists. He was born in Florence in 1936, but he was born in a Mexico inhabited by surrealist scientists and exiles, where everything seemed possible and absurd at the same time. He has created a visual universe that combines sacred geometry, impossible architecture, esoteric symbols, refined irony, and an almost manic obsession with symmetry.

Although it may sound corny, painting needed to be better used. They were trying to reduce it, reduce it, reduce it. Until minimalist art was created. I find it horrible. Well, it's not art. It's nothing. These touches of psychedelia that seem to inject a reality of fractals into your paintings, are they influenced by any psychedelic substances like those used in the 60s? Hello, and welcome to a new episode of the Cracks Podcast. I'm Yoso Trava, and every week I interview the brightest minds to leave you with something unique and practical that you can use in your daily life. Today I have a very special guest I. He's someone I've admired for many years, and meeting him was an honor, almost a dream. My guest today is the artist, the master, Pedro Friedberg. Today, at 89 years old, Pedro continues to draw every day from his studio in Mexico City. And although he makes fun of everything, when he talks about art, architecture and life, he makes it clear that true chaos can only be built with intelligence. Get ready For a great absurd and surreal conversation with the master Pedro Friedberg. Master Pedro, thank you for welcoming us into your home. And welcome to Cracks podcast. Ah, I want to start by asking you about a phrase you mentioned by Oscar Wilde which says nothing that really happens has the slightest importance. Why do you like that phrase so much? Because it lets me relax. I am very worried. That's why I prefer not to read the newspaper or watch television or anything, because the state of the world generally makes me feel very nervous. And Oscar Wilde had this Irish blood. I think it's very calming. Fate tells us all. We can't do much, almost nothing.

You also say that you have been very lucky, that destiny is almost completely written, that you were able to change yours a little, but that a good one touched you.

For people who have beliefs or religions, destiny is very important, isn't it? I am almost completely atheist, but when I look at nature around me, I want to believe a little in God, but I don't know what God is. No, No. I don't understand the concept of God. It doesn't sit well with me. Many people might interpret your art as a connection, even with some God. You use sacred geometry, a lot of geometry of many types. Is there any connection? Everything you explain to us can be explained through a sacred divine being who holds everything in his hands, but who doesn't have hands or 100 million hands. We don't know. He doesn't have hands to sit down. But what human beings have done is incredible, right? Especially in the last 200 years, with or without God's help. Going to other planets and destroying entire cities by pressing a little button. Master, throughout your almost nine decades of life, the many of them as an artist, you have been able to share with some of the great masters worldwide. And you have some anecdotes that you share in your book that I think are worth sharing. Tell me about those nights at St. Ri's in New York talking to this person whom you describe as a charlatan, who had you hypnotized. Salvador Dali. What did you talk about? Well, we made fun of each other. Everything seemed very funny and very curious, very absurd. We loved the absurd. And the absurd is one of the bases of surrealism, right? Of contrasting things that have nothing to do with each other, of imagining things that one has never seen, never intuited. But that is a gift given to very few people, right? Most people lead very, very square and very sad lives, I think limited to soccer and convention. Master, you and your family fled Germany and you tell in Your anecdotes that on this trip out of Europe you came face to face with the Gestapo on a train. What do you remember about those moments? No, I was three years old. I don't remember much. Well, there were always some very elegant military men who inspired admiration and at the same time a terrible fear, a terror. You arrived in Mexico surrounded by a life of immigrants, right? Your stepfather, the building in which they lived. When did you realize that the world was different for you? No. That you had this gift? No, I didn't realize it. I wanted to fit in like all kids, like all young people. They want to be more conventional, you know, they don't really want anything different. They don't want to stand out. They want to stand out, but not be too different, so as not to cause too many difficulties. And when did you decide to dare to be different? Well, in the early 40s. What moved you to do that? Well, I spoke two or three languages, and the people who lived here only spoke one language, for example. But I didn't consider myself special. On the contrary, I wanted to be a conformist. Right, that's what a conformist is. Someone who wants to be the same as everyone else, who wants to fit in. And in the 40s, when I started to come out of that shell, it was hard not to fit in with society, because a child takes everything for granted. That's just how it is. That's how the world is. I don't think you ask yourself questions when you're four or five or seven years old, you go to school and every child is different, just like every adult.

You say that your parents told you not to believe in anything except to believe in money and a little bit of hygiene.

No, not in money, no. How awful. A little bit in money and hygiene. My parents were socialists. My father was almost in the Communist Party. I mean, my stepfather, because thanks to him, he brought us to Mexico because he was friends with President Lazaro Cardenas, who was totally left wing. Trotskyist. Trotskyist. And then he decided to study architecture at Eboro for a short time and met one of his great mentors. What was the great life lesson that Matthias Gitz taught you? He was the complete opposite of mine. On the one hand, it was what Oscar Wilde that nothing that is happening today is important. And on the other hand, he was deeply religious and did various jobs in various chapels as well, Sponsored by Luis Barragan, his great friend, who brought him to Mexico. He and my friend, the critic Arteta Rodriguez Prampolini. Tell me about your first works, your first exhibition. My first exhibition was at the gallery. A gallery that belonged to a Mrs. Rosita Balague, who was the wife of a music critic. I believe. At that time there were many Spanish emigrants. Spanish immigrants. So I already had this place on the corner where the fountain will now be. The one that follows Diana entering Chaputapec. Because Diana was not there. They moved Diana. I drew every day. I love drawing, especially architectural drawings. And someone asked me why I didn't show them, that they were very interesting. And, well, it seemed like a very good idea to me. I understand that it was also with the help or collaboration of Remedios Vero. Well, she introduced me to Mrs. Rostige because Remedios Vero was the wife of Walter Gren, who was a very good friend of my parents. Also another immigrant. I think he was Austrian or German. And he had a deeper or closer relationship with Remedios Baro. No, I saw her very little. It was more with Leonora Carrington. Remedios was very. Remedios would take about six months to paint a picture. She was always locked up in her studio. And by the way, during the holidays I worked with Mr. Walter Grun, who was a partner in this Margolin store where they sold tires and LP records. And I wondered, why were these two things so dissimilar? And then he came to the conclusion that it was because they were both black and round. In that first exhibition, he mentioned having sold three of the 40 paintings he exhibited, or three drawings. How did you feel about selling your hobby, your passion? Well, I had already sold paintings, right? But I had done book covers. People had asked me for posters, menu decorations. I was already very much into graphic art. And that graphic art evolved. Is there a moment when you understood or discovered your style? I know it has changed a lot over the years, but I think one of your works is very distinctive. When did you find your style? I think it was around this time that you also met the painter Roberto Montenegro, who was already quite old. Quite old. And he was addicted to art. And I was fascinated by this art form because everything in my house was so square, logical and useful. I didn't like that. Roberto Montenegro also suggested that I visit the Requena house, which was a house behind the Alameda, which was all Arnubo, which belonged to a Mr. Requena, who had gone to France around 1900 and had fallen in love with this art form and built his entire house in the Arnoubo style. I think it's part of a museum in Chihuahua. It's a beautiful museum. And through it you discovered this style that today. No, that was part of. Seemed to me that all the painters I met, I didn't know personally or hardly at all, were like Diego Rivera, Siqueiros, all the moralists. Seem to me that those were very difficult times. Everyone was always talking about politics and left and right and fascism and all these difficult things that I didn't like. I wanted a much more frivolous world like that of Roberto Montenegro. And through Roberto Montenegro, I also met an English illustrator, Ober Bursley. Obsley's posters are still used today. And he also published several books. Very much in the context of that era of decadence. It's thought that it was decadence, but in reality it was a revaluation after the Pre Raphaelites. But no one had noticed that at that time. That's why it seemed very. I was looking for the original. That's what interested me the most, the original. What decade are we talking about? The 50s, 50s, early 60s. And this love for geometry has appeared since then? Yes, of course. Something that many people I talk to, followers of her work, admire. And in fact, a great friend recently gave me one of her works that I bring here with me. To see if she would do me the honor of signing it. He told me, what I love about Pedro is his mix of the logical and mathematical geometry with the psychedelic fantasy and surrealism, These touches of psychedelia that seem to give you a reality of fractals, of sacred geometry in his paintings. Is he influenced by any psychedelic substances like those used in the 60s? Very little, Very little. Because I also knew Mr. Edward James intimately, the one who built Gillidom, because I was one of the few people who really admired him. Most people thought I was crazy for building such a strange thing, right? But to me it seemed like the kind of gaudy, the cheval factor, those architects. I wanted to create crazy architecture. And the closest thing to that was that of these original architects and the art. And in Germany, Jugen Steel, in Italy, Stettle Liberty. All these arts that were created at the beginning of the 20th century. And he tells me the vast majority of his graphic work has this touch, this frame, or this gold or silver pattern with black. Where does that frame come from? I think it comes from Egyptian art. In Egyptian art, there's a lot of this zebra pattern, right? Like, I don't know if it adds to or takes away from the painting, but it's original. Because in general, the frames were just Boring. And today they consider it part of the work. Many people insist on this and many people don't like it because they say it distracts from the work. I think in some cases it helps the work, and maybe in other cases it distracts from the work, or maybe they just buy it for the frame. It's the hallmark. At what point did you start experimenting with other forms of art? Sculpture, these impossible structures? And Professor Matthias Git had to go to Europe for a while and he had a master carver, a very, very suitable, very good carpenter. And he asked me to give him work for a while to keep him busy so he wouldn't go off on a different path. And that's how it started. I think the first thing was the chair was born from a tree root that was brought to me, which had a shape like this, kind of like what it is, right. So we decided, and from there it came about. We made thousands of things, and then we also started with architectural models. The chair became very popular. Then a very important Swiss collector arrived. I read about it, because in Switzerland there are some incredible collectors. And he saw that thing and said, that's a surreal chair, I'll take two. And he took it to Switzerland. And when he was in Switzerland for about 15 days, they asked him for two more. So we saw. And there was a very good entry there, financially too. You say that you have sold more than 5,000 chairs. Oh, no, I haven't counted them with the counterfeit ones, probably, yes. And, well, in fact, just now a friend of mine bought a piece of yours, supposedly, and we just showed it to your team. And coincidentally, it is also a counterfeit. But master, let's go back a bit to the chair, because it really catches my attention that it is one of the best known works in your entire history as an artist. And I don't know if it is known or recognized, but you say that it is a. That it is a joke that you have made to the world, that it is an ugly object and that you don't understand why people buy them. Tell me what you think of the chair and especially of the effect it has had on the commercial world of art. Well, precisely that which is a joke. It is a. As a sculpture it is quite ugly. As a chair, it is more or less comfortable, sometimes in a very fine, super fine, and always catches your eye. After visiting the Requena house, Where there was a dining room made of flowers, that is, the back was a flower, a cloud flower, and the seat was another cloud flower, and the legs were like Stems with leaves. I also had the idea of making chairs in the shape of animals and so to speak, the. The butterfly chair. But it was never as successful as the mono chair because the butterfly was also very laborious because it had to be painted and well, it lent itself more. But I think the butterfly chair has more artistic merit, if it has any, than the mono chair. Another of his phrases is that he is fascinated by human foolishness. What does he mean by that? If you can read a Renaissance classic by Erasmus of Rotterdam called In Praise of Folly, It describes a lot about the crazy things that humans do. This was in the 10th century. It is one of the three books that impressed me the most at that time. In praise of folly by erasmus and in anatomy of melancholy by burden. It is a fabulous book, like a 10th century psychiatrist, psychologist. It's an incredible book for its time and perhaps fun to read. You can read it anywhere and it says some very wise things and others are full of nonsense. And then there's another book that I really like called the Journey of Polypholus, which is also a Renaissance book written in Florence, which is supposedly an erotic journey of dreams. That's the title. What's the title? Hypnor. Magic Hypnor. I don't know what it is. It's like him. In his dreams he finds Greek goddesses and they wander through forests and meadows. And it's a charming book. Are there any other works of his that could perhaps fit into this story of the joke on society, of human foolishness? Oh, well, many, especially in English literature and in yours here in Mexico. I greatly admired Carlos Monas. He was very much in this style, right, of how to see the funny side of everything. The humorous side, the incredibly absurd side. Everything is so absurd, right? Master, what does a working day look like for you? How do you prepare for work? Well, since my bed is against the right wall, I have to get up on my left foot, which in Germany they say is bad luck. But no problem. I've been getting up on this side for 20 years now. And then I've seen myself and. And generally I have a lot of things started, so there's always something to do. There are paintings started, there are letters to answer. Because I don't have a computer. I don't know how to use a computer. I'm in love. I live. I live in the 19th century. I don't know how I've made it to this year of 2025 without a computer. Everyone I see, even those walking down the street who almost get run over because they're always looking at their tablets. Make me a little envious. I wanted to do a few things. What things would you like to do? For example, read the menus of restaurants that are 20 kilometers from here, or order a taxi or make a travel reservation. Right? Yes, it's very useful, for sure, but I think they've gone overboard. Do you have any manias when preparing to work? Anything that you can't help but notice before you put pencil to paper, having coffee, having your pencils very sharpened, which they have already sharpened for me. I like this street because it's very quiet. And tell me a little bit about your. I don't know whether to call it a hatred or aversion to the color green. No, it's neither hatred nor aversion. It's a discipline. Look, look. All these paintings already have too many colors. I could. I wouldn't. I wouldn't. I wouldn't paint in black and white, but I had to add yellow, red and blue. But green is enough. And since I don't paint very vegetal things, then it doesn't matter. I don't really miss it. But the fewer colors a painting has, the better, I think. Like that one of the 18 smiles of the Mona Lisa. It's just flesh colored and black and white. Why 18 smiles? Well, I think maybe there are 19. I haven't counted them lately. Right. More or less. 18. 18 is a magic number. 17. No. In what other things, if not using green is due to discipline, because you have to limit yourself in certain things, as you said. In what other things do you limit yourself? Well, you can't paint everything or there is a whole world in an object or a thing. Like Picasso, who distorted the image of a woman so many times that he painted 10,000 paintings. Right. In 10,000 colors. It's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Almost none of them are. I think the first ones were academic, those in the blue were red period. But then Cubism was pure distorted portraits in a brilliant way. I was told today that you also created your own Alphabet. Several, several. There's a graphic work called Secret Alphabets. How did a secret Alphabet come about? Well, one thinks that it could be different or represented by another symbol, but it has a connection to the traditional Alphabet. These are the ones I did. Yes, but then Cubism was pure distorted portraits in a brilliant way. I was told today that you also created your own Alphabet. Several, Several. Hmm. There is a graphic work called Secret Alphabets. How did a secret Alphabet come about? Well, one thinks that it could Be different or represented by another symbol. But it has a connection to the traditional Alphabet. These are the ones I did. Yes, but then there are alphabets like, I think Sanskrit, which has, like, 52 letters. Do you consider yourself eccentric? Eccentric? Eccentric, but not quite. What do you need to be eccentric enough? It's a natural thing that comes from either always being contrary or from being very, very gullible. Right. Like people who think that if they fasten their clothes wrong, they're going to have a terrible day, or that if they lift their left leg, they're going to have a terrible day. Or there are people, especially in England, who insist. In life eccentricity is like a friend of Leonora Carrington's who insisted on being buried upside down. Because everyone else was upside down. And that's how she's buried, in a London cemetery. Do you have anything planned for when it's your turn to go? I don't have anything planned for the day I go to the other world. I don't know. I already have enough problems at my age. Enough ailments that I don't want to remember. Master, throughout your life you've fought against normality, boredom, conformity. When did you feel truly out of place and enjoy it? I don't know. I did so many conventional things in my youth. I was even a boy scout. I went swimming in the Gwe. Everything seemed more and more like a waste to me. And since it was the time of World War II, my mother especially kept telling me how lucky we were to be in a relatively peaceful country. And in your adult life, when was the moment when you most said, I'm going to try? How much this world can put up with me? No, no. I don't think I'll ever experiment too much. No, I'm kind of a coward. Why do you say that? Well, because that's just the way I am. Everyone is who they are and they have to accept it. I wouldn't want to be a soldier and stick a bayonet in someone's face. It seems like the worst thing I've ever done. I got away with that. But couldn't one argue that what you've done in artistic terms is brave? To say the opposite of what everyone perhaps said was right. Well, for example, the most I drew was conformist architecture, but academic architecture from the time of Don Porfirio Diaz. They fascinated me because everyone hated and despised them. And I thought these old houses were very pretty, very pretty. And it seemed to me that we had to take advantage of these underused or Undervalued arts and return a bit to normality. To normality in art. That's when abstract painting began. Right. Abstract painting had been around for quite some time, but everyone painted abstract paintings. That seemed to me to be a very good idea. Poor thing. Well, they even created a group. Right. Well, it seemed like they had no idea that a surface could say more than just shapes and colors. It could also talk about a fact or a panoramic view, although it sounds corny, but more had to be made of painting. They were trying to reduce it, reduce it, reduce it until they created minimalist art, which I think is horrible. Well, it's not art. It's nothing. And now there are people who stick a banana on the wall. No, not even that. A little dot. But I think that's gone out of fashion. Fortunately. Now there's such a variety of styles and proposals that you don't know where to look. To what do you attribute the enormous success of your work, Maestro? I think it's because it has something very playful, something very childish that everyone likes. That's why many people come with one of my works and add more little things to it because it kind of inspires them. Yes. Which makes me very happy. But sometimes things get out of hand and they do very ridiculous things. Or the market gets as flooded with too many things that are irrelevant. Or also the art of ornamentation, which has been very, very undervalued. The frets. The frets. Neoclassical art. Look, here is a character, but it is copied. I don't know anything about anatomy. I couldn't draw this without having a sample. Or this Greek statue. I have the animals. I'm fascinated by the Hera. This book is called Ogorotak, which means catalog backwards. Catalog, notebook, catalog. I did it for several years. I did a page each week, and suddenly I had this many works. I decided to publish it. It's like a relative of. There's also an English book by Lewis Carroll called Alice in Wonderland, which is like a bible to me. I think it's an absolutely incredible book. Why do you call it a bible? What does it contain? Well, like a bedside book. Right, A bible, a bedside book. So many ideas in relatively few pages. Right. I was talking a while ago about Leonora Carrington, and I understand that she knew about Tarot, or Tarot came to be to her work through her. Well, a little earlier I had already traveled to San Francisco because when I was very young, that was the fashion of Bitniks. Of Bitniks. I knew a poet gogor Nesbitt, who lives here, and her husband, the painter Andre Vannenbraque. And they. They said that San Francisco was the capital of the world at that time. And one day they took me and I was there for, I don't know, three or four very interesting months. And that's where she came into contact with Tarot. This poet read Tarot cards and. Well, I started to be fascinated by them from then on. There was a Tarot card here, there's a Tarot card there in the back. There are three that she did on Murano glass. 21 major arcana. And each one has its meaning. It's very convenient to have that as a crutch, isn't it? When you don't know what to do or what to think, suddenly you say, incredible. And if you read everything that has been written because of that one card, and this 21 times you say, I'm sorry. And if you read everything that has been written because of that one card and this 21 times you say, I'm sorry, that you should never be satisfied with what you do. Sometimes there are paintings that seem almost perfect to me. Almost. Here are some of those, but I won't say which ones they are. And others seem horrible to me. We won't say which ones they are either. But sometimes you make mistakes and you have to put an end to your mistakes. You consider yourself curious? Yes. Yes. When I hear a new word, I look it up in the dictionary or the encyclopedia because I can't do it on the computer. Linguistics, semantics are very interesting. And you've read countless thousands of books? I think. So. What are you reading now? Right now I'm rereading. Rereading Goat's Journey through Italy in the 16th century. I really like travel books. You're a great traveler, aren't you? I don't like airplanes anymore. You get everything by jet. And I don't know what. Before, I could put up with traveling 18 hours to one night from here to Paris or Rome or some magical place that isn't so magical anymore because everyone has already been there. If I could go back today, I would. To a bar in New York, Paris, Italy, and sit down to have a drink with one or more of your friends from those times. Who would you like to sit with? Well, friends whose names I wouldn't know if I told you. A very good friend I had in New York was the cartoonist Sao Steinberg, who was a genius who drew only in black and white. And I often went with him to a bar that is in Manhattan, I think it was a very fun bar. And what was your drink of choice? Well, wine, French white wine. Everyone had to have. Was the era of martinis. Martinis that are almost pure gin with barely a drop of Cinzano. I know that Pedro Freidberg will be around for a while, but how would you like to be remembered, Maestro? I prefer that they don't remember me. I don't care. Actually, I don't care. But not to be mean, no, I don't think they will remember me much. They will remember my work in several museums. That flatters me a lot is they're a museum that you are particularly proud of to be exhibited. Well, here in Mexico, in the what it is called Modern Art Museum, there is one of my two paintings, small but not too bad. And also in many other cities in the United States, in the Library of Congress, in Washington, there are several of my letters. Because I write letters. I wrote illustrated letters when everyone still wrote letters. And they are going to publish a book of all the letters. Not all of them, many of them. And there have been exhibitions of these letters that are like illustrated or decorated letters. Master to close and thank you for your time. If I could write a message in the sky for millions of people to see, what would that message say? What would it say? Don't put so much smoke in your food. Be kinder. Try to lower the decibels of your motorcycles. That's what irritates me the most when I go out on the street, the motorcycles, I don't say anything. I consider them a very useful device. But this noise is also very annoying. I think that's why it's damaged my hearing. I don't hear as well as I used to. And we used to go at concerts. We listened to symphonies by Behoven, by Brahms, by thousands of composers. And that was a great gift, wasn't it? Nowadays there are almost no concerts except rock, which is also kind of annoying to the ears. We reached a kind of super ultra baroque era of noise and nonsense and violence and no, I can't imagine how this world is going to end. Well, I think that what you've done with your art leaves us an alternate world to retreat to. How great? Why that way? I killed two birds with one stone. I had fun for many decades and I also pleased many people. I consider myself lucky to be one of them. Maestro is a star. Thank you very much for welcoming me into your home. Well, let's put on all the social networks. Where to Follow the Maestro's page. Where to Buy his work. Thanks to Cam Gallery for helping us arrange this interview. And to you, Maestro, for what you've done for nine decades and for allowing us to spend a little time with you today. You. Thank you very much. No, it's my honor that even at my age, at my advanced age, they still take care of me. We are privileged. And imagine how vain I am that I accepted, because there it is. How lazy. Then I said, oh, 17 billion people are going to see me. And I don't know. Vanity is also a very, very subtle thing. Very strange. Very eccentric. Very eccentric. Vanity is an eccentricity that we all have a little bit of. We are all a little vain, right? I think so. Or we pretend to be. Sometimes we hide it. There are only three, four. Four marriages anyway. And that's a lot of love that we need, right? Three marriages. That's three. I'm already hanging one more dead body on him. Three marriages. But that was a great advance for humanity. What? For society, the ability to get divorced. That one could get married for fun. Did you ever get married for fun? Yes, for convenience. Because I knew that this was going to last a year or two. But in the meantime, I was going to learn many new things, see them from a new angle. Well, there was a lot to learn, teacher. Thank you very much to all of you. Thank you very much for your patience. Thank you very much, teacher, for your generosity. I had a great time.

Thank you very much. Thank you very much for listening to this episode. And before I go, don't forget that if you want to receive a very short but valuable email from me every day, Monday through Friday, you can sign up to receive Oso Trava Daily. Every day, I will be sharing some news, a lesson, a tool that can help you improve your business, grow your company, be more productive, and have a more fulfilling life in general. So if you don't want to miss out on this valuable information, just go to Cracks La Corio. Leave me your email and I'll be in your inbox very soon. That's all for today. I'm Yosotrava and I hope you have a great week.