The silence of things - MANUEL GARAY, CARLA JUÁREZ

the silence of things

THE SILENCE OF THINGS April 24 to July 7, 2023 Text: Carla Juárez - Manuel Garay That horizon line that divides the sky from the earth is, in a way, the imaginary line that marks the limit of the pictorial. It doesn't exist in quantifiable terms, because when we think we can measure it, it vanishes, mocks logic, and retreats into a nebula. I have always believed in and linked painting to a practice as such, but also as a way of thinking about time, space, and a way of connecting with life. I think of painting as an entity that wanders among the rubble of a ruined city, going unnoticed, evoking the silence of things and clothing itself in the garments of objects that lie defeated by time. Ambivalent forms, phantasmagorical constructions, and transfigured elements appear painted with earthy palettes, broken colors, and grayish browns that renounce the chemical stridency of saturated hues. A quest that both distances itself from and points to that historical solemnity. This painting, which I consider nascent, is doubly painting; because before being represented, it already existed, possessing a history and therefore a past with a geological basis. Everything we observe is linked to it; we need only pay attention to all the places we overlook. In any space where we pause our gaze, we can see a painting. … When we paint, we initiate a dialogue with the unspoken. I walk through the city, I stop to observe; there is a blue and orange wall interrupted by gray cement. Suddenly, I sense the beginning of a new word that continues in that plastic sign hanging from the structure that still holds it. The walls are dislocated between cracks covered with white plaster, but I see lines like scars that mark what happened. Why this need to see a meta-painting in the human gesture of repairing? I choose to pause and consider the agonizing geometry of the demolished building that still reveals its topaz tiles. I choose to pause and contemplate the presence of vain forms that are there and have not yet been admired. I choose to pause and think that there is a poetic possibility in that painting that is degrading due to a decision that is not mine, nor yours, nor anyone else's. It is time that signals a material transformation of that which resists and insists on remaining.