This article forms part of an ongoing research series examining possible relationships between Roberto Pignataro’s biography and the expressive language of his abstraction during the early 1960s.
It revisits a violent episode in Argentina’s past—the 1955 bombing of Plaza de Mayo—and considers whether echoes of that event, however oblique, might have surfaced in a series of abstract works Pignataro exhibited eight years later.
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On the morning of June 16, 1955, thirty aircraft from the Argentine Navy and Air Force appeared unexpectedly over downtown Buenos Aires, drawing the attention of people going about their morning — office workers, commuters, and passersby below.
What followed was an violent attempt to overthrow President Juan D. Perón. The aircraft attacked Plaza de Mayo and surrounding government buildings with bombs and strafing runs, plunging the city center into immediate chaos and panic.
Although loyalist forces suppressed the revolt within a few hours, the attack left unprecedented devastation: more than 300 civilians were killed and over 800 wounded.
At the time, Roberto Pignataro and his brother Francisco were working at the Argentine Central Bank, only two blocks north of Plaza de Mayo, where the bombs began to fall. Like tens of thousands of civilians that day, they suddenly found themselves caught in a war zone at the very heart of downtown Buenos Aires.
The Central Bank, like many buildings in the area, swiftly went into lockdown. Trapped inside, employees watched the attack unfold through the windows, with the building shaken by explosions as aircraft passed overhead.
Originally thought to be temporary, the lockdown extended well into the night, lasting hours even after the rebel attacks had been suppressed.
When employees were finally released, many headed back toward Plaza de Mayo — a vital transportation hub — only to encounter the horrifying aftermath. The area remained without power: bodies lay where they had fallen, the wounded were carried through the streets, and parts of the surroundings had been torn to pieces. Commuters, still shellshocked, were forced to make their way home on foot, among them the Pignataro brothers.
Although this story had long been part of our family’s memory, I only recently saw actual footage of the attacks, Since then, it has been difficult not to consider the political violence of this era when looking at some of the intense expressionism Roberto Pignataro produced in the early 1960s.
There is one exhibition Pignataro held in July 1963 which, in my view, feels particularly tied to the events of 1955. This collection, when observed as a whole, evokes a kind of visual narrative that resonates deeply with the scenes of destruction we can observe in contemporary documentation of the 1955 attacks.
A selection of these works can be seen below, shown both in current photographs and in slides from the original 1963 exhibition.
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A Quick Afterthought
I should clarify that, when it comes to abstraction, I would never commit to a single interpretation, as doing so would undermine the very nature of what abstract art is meant to be. These paintings can suggest very different things to different viewers, and none of those readings would be wrong.
However, just for the sake of argument, let’s entertain the premise that Pignataro’s 1963 show may be in fact a visual commentary on Argentina’s political violence.
Those familiar with Argentine history will know 1955 was not the last time the Argentine military bombed its own, the “1963 Argentine Navy Revolt” was another incident involving aircraft and destruction that caused great shock to Argentine society. In terms of international affairs, the Vietnam War and the Cold War were also weighing on every Argentine’s mind.
Then, one might rightly wonder: why would he be reflecting upon that specific 1955 episode and not something closer in time? Eight years had passed after all.
While I have no doubt Pignataro lived 1960s political tensions intensely, both local and international, none of these events touched him as directly as the1955 bombings. They could have been memory triggers indeed, even timely targets of his commentary, but they lacked the immediacy of personal experience that, in my view, makes that 1955 episode the more plausible source behind this body of work.
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Slideshows
(Top) 1955 Aerial attacks on Plaza the Mayo.
(Bottom) Artwork from Roberto Pignataro’s July 1963 Exhibition at Galería J. Peuser.
Further References:
The Bombing of Plaza de Mayo (Wikipedia)
The “1963 Argentine Navy Revolt” (Wikipedia)
Roberto Pignataro’s July 1963 Exhibition at Libreria J. Peuser
About the Artist
Roberto Lucio Pignataro (1928–2008) was an Argentine abstract and informalist painter active in Buenos Aires between the 1950s and early 1980s. His work explored texture, material presence, and non-representational visual language across painting, collage, and assemblage.
Research Context
This article forms part of an ongoing archival project documenting exhibitions, press reception, and artistic activity surrounding Pignataro and the Buenos Aires art scene of the 1960s–1970s.
Topics Covered in This Article
1955 Plaza de Mayo bombing, Argentine political violence and art, Roberto Pignataro 1963 exhibition, Salón J. Peuser Buenos Aires, abstraction and trauma, visual memory in abstract painting, Argentine Informalism, art and historical experience, personal experience and artistic expression, interpretation of non-representational art, Cold War era cultural atmosphere in Argentina