What is the origin of the Atchugarry Museum of Contemporary Art (MACA)?
I was born in Uruguay and spent 45 years abroad – in Italy. Over the years, I’ve travelled a lot and visited sculpture parks such as Chillida Leku in San Sebastián, the Fondation Maeght in Saint-Paul de Vence, the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art in Humlebæk, Denmark, and the Storm King Art Center in Cornwall, New York. My idea was to have a green space of this size – today, it covers 40 hectares – where the viewer can be immersed in all the arts. Here, we have cinema and theatre all year round, visual arts geared towards schools and children, and we encourage visitors to experience the world of art inside a large park, where the star is actually nature, from which human beings have been lured away by big cities.  

That dialogue with nature includes many of your monumental works.
Yes, there is that dialogue in my work. It also develops vertically, like plants that are seeking out light or like the dreams of human beings that are without limits – things that can continue on to infinity.

Is this museum your greatest legacy to Uruguay?
Yes, this is all a legacy to the country. I am about to instal my largest monumental work in the park. The marble block, which I made in Italy, started out weighing 56 tonnes. Now, it weighs 32 tonnes and stands 8.6m tall. I also like to highlight the diversity of artists and languages in the museum: there are some 80 sculptures by about 70 different creatives. The idea is to promote conversations so that differences are seen as fundamental. That’s the idea of the park and is why it’s not a place of self-celebration, but a meeting point with languages and artists from different moments in history.

In these types of projects – which are often posthumous – the artist hasn’t got the opportunity to ensure that they reflect their personality.
Yes, I’ve thought about that, too. I had to take advantage of my energy as much as I could in order to be able to do this project, even if it continues over time and is enlarged and transformed to different requirements through, for instance, landscaping.

How did the collaboration with the architect Carlos Ott for the main pavilion come about?
Carlos Ott is a great Uruguayan architect and, when I mentioned the idea to him, he was very enthusiastic. It was during the pandemic, so he wasn’t travelling as usual and nor was I. So we got together every week to add things to the project. Even the benches and the museum shop, designed almost like a library, are by Ott, who took care of all the details.

Is it difficult to balance art with architecture when both are so impactful?
Yes, it is, but here it was all planned. In the biggest building, there is a large room where the exhibition part is less easy because the architecture is monumental, so we use that room to put on plays, screen films, hold concerts and book presentations and conferences. They’re not exhibitions, but things that a large hall can accommodate. Then there are various rooms that are more neutral and much more suitable for the exhibition of works of art. We must respect the dialogue between architects and artists, between containers and things contained, beyond the encounter with nature, which is constant here. We come out of a building and into the landscape, and we didn’t want to lose that feature either.

Why is your work not in the best space in the museum?
With this museum, I want to bequeath my vision, not just my work. It’s up to me to be the host and, therefore, the guests have to be the protagonists.

Who curates the exhibitions? Do you personally take care of it?
Leonardo Noguez is the director, although I suggest ideas, such as making this year a great tribute to Joaquín Torres García to celebrate the 150th anniversary of his birth.

You have a very close relationship with Carrara, which awarded you the Michelangelo prize in 2002.
While I was at school, we had to do an assignment about a country, and I was given Italy. My father went to the consulate and found a booklet about Lake Como. And I remember that I talked about Lake Como, and also about Carrara marble. As material for my work, I discovered it in the 1970s. The first time I stepped foot in those quarries, it was very exciting to think that artists like Bernini and Michelangelo had been there. What Michelangelo said about discovering the work inside of a block of marble has been a life lesson for me.