With: Juan Pablo Torres Muñiz
There’re times when the subtle ways of an – so to say – invitation result particularly appropriate, an offer, the whole product of dedication, which in themselves signify a revelation, an alluring matter and, nonetheless – it seems – also merely a means for posing us in contemplation… and suddenly they confront us with – the proper fundamental issues.
Then it’s enough to respond with a minimum of delicacy in order to acknowledge that we’re engaged, deeply so. Though we ignore the exact moment when we yielded, and the way it happened, and where the “catch” was, and to what measure we have put ourselves inside it. Furthermore, the question of what is it…
Such kind of insinuation, due to its brittleness, is very close to complacency, a nefarious thing; but from such closeness, it faces this, breaks the crystal of the representation’s mirror. It frees the air of its humor’s pollutions and makes way to the subject of our fragility, a certain propensity to be docile to specific flavors.
Celia Anahin’s images create an atmosphere that silences the entourage, that evokes, from its back, murmurs of faraway horizons, abandoned, in sunrises and evenings, to dreams – to forgetfulness.
It takes us away. Let´s go… astray with her.
By: Juan Pablo Torres Muñiz
Joni Mitchell´s own statement: I have always thought of myself as a painter derailed by circumstance.
With: Beatriz Oggero and Juan Pablo Torres Muñiz
Bea invites. I follow her, always with pleasure. Now, away from the garden. Paths.
Let’s go, more coffee…
By way of introduction,s he tells me a few years ago in a conversation, an Italian architect who specialized in the quatroccento said something that I always remember: “Beatrice, art became textile when it left the wall and went to the canvas…”
And yet – I allow
myself – in the proper representation of robes, special fabrics, dressed in embroidery, in texture, a permanent evocation…
I have often been struck by the passion of some painters (and not minors) for representing the tissues. I remember how, after being totally shaken by Goya’s Fusilamientos in the Prado Museum, I stared at the detailed velvet brocade cloak in the
portrait of Doña Isabel de Francia, a caballo, by Velázquez, in another room.
And there are the paintings of Holbein; even served to name a style of carpets. The list is long, and in modern times the famous versions of Paul Cèzanne on Mount Saint Victoire are of great interest, in which the painter lets the canvas also participate in the work…
The hand opens.
Walking between the images… My dear Beatriz Oggero gives the name. Orlando Alandia. Architect, graduated in Italy. Before us, labyrinths; Enigma and revelation of the minotaur. Exploration that the artist repeats, deepens.
By: Juan Pablo Torres Muñiz
Kilometers, miles; seasons, years. A chance of silence. Violent, inner struggle.
Traveling between, and also different paths, of questions and questions. Eyes eat up its thing, and a different vision, far from the simple representation, it was taking shape. Lets say, making use of the technical term’s double meaning, – indeed, it was revealed…,it was produced…
After all, coincidences regarding: issues to be shared…
Arim Almuelle. Long strides walk; flames on his eyes.
Thick voice and kind manners are part of. The key.
Here and there glass windows, folk art which he knows… Cigarette smoke in between… (That recalls other mists by the way)