Into where we lose sight: A dialogue with Isaac Pelepko

With: Juan Pablo Torres Muñiz
 
Lost sights, we say. We can begin with them, but Isaac Pelepko propounds from this point, among others, a spectrum of possibilities, a special wide one.
Maybe, the key is hidden among the silence’s tension of each scene: where the characters’ attention reposes is a moment, not a place.
A region that is, nonetheless, transparent.
The purpose is huge because in the middle of drama (interspersed with humor) he confronts us to the ultimate share of lucidity common to all. And, paradoxically, it provokes to trace an arch wide enough to embrace the question. As if that were possible.
 
 

With an unsophisticated viewpoint, Isaac shapes his discourse in accordance to the possibilities of the most unaffected language. Finally, the measure of his ambition is determined by all that is better uttered without words.
 
I feel like I have two major bodies of work; one more straight realism that is mainly portrait and the figure emphasizing mostly beauty and technique. The second is more about narrative and is more expressive and experimental in style with less emphasis on “getting drawing correct.”
 
 
Some of the works have a darker theme and have a satirical point of view. I think humor would be the one thing that I would like to permanently express in most of these works.
 
 
Irreverence.
And not…
Expelled from Paradise, we have the age of myth and legend, still governed by the laws of circular time. From there stories and details could be explained only later, without a proper History. It’s because telling implies a succession of facts, a lineal time (to which causality and logic appertain), which didn’t belong to us yet. (The same as humor.) The myths tell that we inscribe ourselves in the new tradition with blood.
 
 
I’m not sure what you mean, for example, by the literature of the image, but probably I would answer no to express myself through it.
For me believing in something has always to do with a flux.
 
 
After Abel’s death, Cain (and his descendants) had to trace his course alone. With the own death’s inevitability as the only certitude, condemned to think about that other time that will never belong to him again, he wanders and wanders. He gets lost and often intentionally daydreams; other times, he gives himself to defying…
Maybe to travel back in time will be possible once the ultimate velocity, by which reality manifests to us, is surpassed. Maybe in this way we could get through our own march.
But meanwhile, what…?
 
 
I’m taking in a lot of sensory information from all that is around. I feel it comes out through the unconscious in my artwork.
Definitely it’s fed by old western painting, mainly, Mannerism, Baroque, Rococo and a lot of 19th French art. Also television such as the cartoons on “adult swim” and Disney movies, videogames and comic books. I feel like all that stuff shows up in my work.
 
 
That which is irresolvable, endures. Questions.
What are we expecting for? Could we live forgetful of our only certitude? Is it possible for men to live in justice, making good use of the resources at hand, when immediately after remembering his own death he devours all that surrounds him in a frenzy of pleasure and oblivion? Do not jewels change hands, innumerable times, without ceasing to be precious or covetable, only because they cause certain kind of amnesia? Are not despicable only such objects which we use to reflect ourselves, confirming a posture, a transient condition?
 
 
The modes, the references, here in the canvasses, attest to it.
 
Developing my hand had a lot more to do with many years of figure drawing, but I’d say digital resources has enhanced the knowledge of more subjects and allows for easy access to references for the possibility of more creative subject matter.
 
 
Lost sights… But they accord a meeting. When’s the moment? Is it not always there?
To talk about time requires starting from the way we perceive it and how we understand it, and also the way we accept that our civilization “progress”, “steps back”, “adds to chaos”.
 
Why I’m I painting this, or where is this image coming from. Ideas seem to come out of the ether and not always clear about them. Sometimes it is totally aesthetic. I just want to make a beautiful picture, but other times there are more questions about the origin.
 
 
To conceive the ensemble of images as a unit represents, by itself, a new problem.
 
I might have to ask someone else to help me answer. For an observer one could ask what they think, but mainly I would want them to enjoy the viewing experience and to wonder what is going on and maybe figure out for themselves or interpret meaning from a work in their own way.
 
 
Advantages of eloquency.
Others have already killed themselves thinking. In this realm of the endless word, the one composed by all the letters and which tempers itself by way of all sounds; verb which conjugates alone all tenses y names, at the same time, the will to name, without antonyms.
At the end, where to look at… ?
 
 
Translation by: Roberto Zeballos Rebaza
 
 

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