Originality resides in the ignorance of the observer
“The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness” (Vladimir Nabokov)
“Only expression can bestow reality on reality. And reality is not in reality, but only in expression”
There is a great difference between writing for oneself and writing for the others. When I write for myself, I do it to appease or clarify certain convoluted thoughts, as a bittersweet remedy. If other people are going to read what I write, I should transform a raw and satrap discourse, into a democratic and legible one. All in all a postmodern speech, in which the onanism disappears along with the interpreter. However, through my paintings I express my own vision about the naked truth, if I may say so. Therefore, If I write in a manner inconsistent with this idea, I would become another lifeless mind swept away by the trend.
Well, it has become a trend for the artists to make a statement so that they help understanding and selling their works.
I carry out my work in a small flat in Madrid, specifically in a small-sized room that is used as both dining-room and as cosy atelier, in which the paint and food aromas live together with the daylight that bathes the space. I totally agree with the statements made by Andrew Wyeth, whom I quote here: “I am crazy about painting. I have to follow this path. It’s a pressing need. Having a good subject makes me happy, but then I go through hell in order to realise it. I need to engage with it”. I believe that you never finish a painting; you abandon it. It is a complex message with an unclear ending. It should impact and gather the idea of mystery that denotes its timelessness. Perhaps this is why I enjoy nudity, because it grants the work a timeless character which at the same time remarks our own fragility.
I do not come from a family of painters, although during my childhood I perceived certain ability towards and interest in arts. The only artistic education started when I was sixteen, in the typical workshop of master-apprentice. I remember that by then I was experiencing one of my happiest periods in life. I focused on painting for a whole year as I was getting ready to pass the entrance examination for the Bachelor in Fine Arts which, given my sensitivity, was the only option available.
The learning started to be so intense that I usually excreted black mucus due to the inhalation of charcoal dust. After I entered the unknown, I started to distinguish all the passion and the urge for knowledge that arose in me. However, destiny and irony are a good match and I didn’t pass the entry exam. This left me in a standstill, and I didn’t know which way to go. Looking back, I confess that it was a blessing in disguise.
At that point, my further training turned towards two different degrees in studies of Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Heritage. This, opened for me the technical knowledge of classical art. Throughout the following years, I focused on graphic documents (books, manuscripts, documents and ephemera), which increased my passion for books and thus completing my technical and theoretical scope.
Paradoxically, the use of artistic skills is strictly forbidden for a restorer, because the main rule is to be totally faithful to the work and the artist. So much so, that until then I had no interest whatsoever in becoming a painter. The lack of creativity, and the fact that I didn’t study a degree in Fine Arts, confirmed the absence of need for painting in company with others and debating about their own ways of expression. This is why I do not belong to any group or artistic trend. My nature and my work have been mainly guided by a deep solitude that I try keep in mind, as I know that it defeats you if you forget about it.