In my work as a painter I continue to believe in the redemptive, even convulsive effects of beauty, broadly defined, on both the creator and the viewer. Encounters that freeze the mind, even if momentarily, allow a glimpse of something larger and more inclusive than the mental chatter that normally occupies consciousness. In this, I prefer to operate non-verbally in most of my work, allowing the mind to expand, configure and coalesce as it wishes with as little narrative, text and preconceptions as I can. In this work I am not afraid of or apologetic about a certain organic beauty, chromatic luminosity, what is called in Latin America "magic", without a trace of irony or embarrassment.
For these broader reasons, procedurally I prefer to attend to close-focus articulations across a prepared, reticulated, often textured surface, allowing the brush to register small marks, shapes and contours that define and spread across the canvas. Even when in later stages of the ultimate images involve figures, per se, (such as in my recent murals) I always start with the granular layer, the marks that constitute a rich field of possibilities the eye might group this way or that. In the case of figures, per se, I use this layer to stimulate what is known as pareidolia, the capacity and penchant of the mind to see things according to its own unconscious impulses in near-random stimuli (much like seeing images in the clouds). I simply choose and define cells that the eye links to others among millions of possible configurations. In this, my visionary process is not so much projecting or finding as it is choosing and vivifying. In this sense I look sideways at the work, waiting for forms to suggest themselves. Color is usually monochromatic or analogous by scheme with occasional complementary accents here and there. Like Delacroix and later Seraut, even Chuck Close, color spots inside dissimilar color spots are common as part of an interest in simultaneous contrast, an optical phenomenon that sets up visual vibrations.
Larger compositional issues come secondary to the granular level of the surface reticulations, per se, but are of course critical as the work advances and develops. Often, composition is composed of a visual force that appears to blow through the picture, simple geometric forms: arches, rectangles, ovals, horizontal or vertical axis. Other times, figures appear or conform partly to the granular layer. And so, much of what emerges is an intensification and elaboration of granular surface/textural features that I simply choose between, unify or "cellularize" and vivify.
The mechanism actual mental/emotional/visionary criteria of this choosing and calligraphy on my part is mysterious and is almost automatic to me at this point in my development but comprises, I find, the particular plastic optic that most interests and engages my eye and wrist as I work. Intentionality is therefor not direct and premeditated, per se, but rather I allow the image to emerge through many small decisions that accumulate on the surface.
Also see my Artist Statement blog.
Here, in sum, are the six pieces completed since June 8th, now titled.
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Verde que te quiero verde III (after Lorca), 2013
Acrylic on canvas 76" x 42"
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Verde que te quiero verde II (after Lorca), 2013
Acrylic on canvas 76" x 42"
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| Agua Luminosa II, 2013, acrylic on canvas. 48" x 60" |
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| Agua Luminosa II, 2013, acrylic on canvas. 48" x 60". |
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| Collide, 2013, acrylic on canvas 50 x 68" or so. |
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| Zinacantán, 2013, acrylic on canvas, 40" x 46" inspired by the colors of huipeles garments made there. |
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Women of Zinacantán, Chiapas, Mexico
wearing traditional clothing and colors.
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