Thorny repetition

La Somptueuse Dame Cactus - 195 x 90 cm. Oil on canvas. 2024.

This version of a previous painting came as a `suggestion` from a dear friend of mine, curator Anne Richard, who really missed not having the 2023  ‘metamorfosis en Cactus’ in an upcoming group show. In the meantime it had sold. I took it as an opportunity to follow up on ideas I had toyed with when working on the original piece, and even used the same round frame to extend it at the lower end and develop the entire ‘body’ of the figure, actually trapped inside a tall vase that, according to my intentions, should from afar resemble a conic dress. This painting ended up being much darker, the figure more active, giving an overall dimension and narrative I couldn’t have predicted.

When opening up a scene the resulting composition alters the narrative in which the figures attain their pictorial meaning. That’s why a small change in composition makes a painting memorable without it being technically obvious at first glance. All the space I had to develop the floor, keeping in mind the Dutch lesson, helped render a less placid, heavier, more grounded figure, she’s meaner, somehow.

It was actually harder to paint most of the repeated motives for this one. I couldn’t go back to the innocent discovery attitude I had the first time around, I had, in a way, no excuse for any shortcomings, the sketch was the first painting. I’m usually curious about the exact nature of the variations you find in old master’s takes on ‘small’ and ‘big’ retelling of the same motive, Brueghel, Bosch.. and this was interesting, I wouldn’t have reached some of the effects done here if not prompted by the situation, while at the same time being unable to carry on fully all that made up the older painting. Some aspects remained unrepeatable.

Whish

Wishing Breeze - 80 x 80 cm. Oil on canvas. 2024

This is a work that wanted to be very decorative, sweet to the eye. The final result is a bit harsher than I had imagined, goes to show one never has any measure of control over the final feel of a painting.

The idea falls in the category of many `plant ladies` I’ve done and will hopefully continue to do. The mixing of taxonomic categories, really natural kingdoms in this instance, exerts a perennial fascination over me, and I don’t tire of exploring the visual possibilities of such hybridisation, and the symbolic tendrils it shoots towards myth and fable. 

The setup is indebted to religious imagery, particularly a Christ with thorns I saw in Toledo Cathedral, where the origin of the red stone frame resides.

 

I’ve added some pictures of the work in progress, here you can see the geometry holding the composition together and the successive stages, my approach to this painting was a bit Tetris-like, finishing separated zones in turns and getting a full idea only after the puzzle was done. 

Festina Lente

Dream March -  130 x 100 cm. Oil on wooden panel. 2023

Take your time when in a hurry, that came to mind as me and my family commenced the long haul that moving from Spain back to my natal Buenos Aires would entail. These were the months during which the plan took shape and the reality of moving, yet again, a whole house and two studios, bore its weight on us.

The story behind this painting is retold in a long, and painful to paint, inscription on its base. To me the chronology read as follows: I did a small sketch about a snail figure carrying an structure, my wife referred a dream she had about a very similar scene, from which came the big pigeon and the house; later my daughter, 13 at the time, told of an analogous dream she had had, further sustaining the image as it formed. I couldn’t find any movie or reference we had been exposed to together, so I concluded I just had to exorcise the motive out of our collective minds.

I read the action from left to right, so this motion would seem a retreat, at first. The house in the shell is full of medievalesque notices and posters, a collection of memories, personal symbols and associative indexes pertinent to our life as a family. The feeling I aimed for was that of a biblical endeavour, the slowness and effort of changing that which surrounds you and makes part of you. I’m absolutely oblivious as to why the figures are smiling, that was not expected.

Stylistically I stretched a bit the grotesque here, but the scene demanded it, the idea just couldn’t be conveyed if watered down, I am unapologetically glad to have found an excuse to try this peculiar aesthetic. 

Really hope they find their way.