The wind moves the windows, blows the dust in weightless waves. My cat from the roof waits alert, the air shakes his hair and whiskers, motionless, the hunter’s patience awaits the pigeons. The sky is covered by an infinite white curtain, and the light has that cold, blinding delicacy that precedes the rain. It is simple and it is enough for a painting; for art there are no great reasons, there are great moments, the wonder of being and the folly of perpetuating. The artist is like my cat, a patient hunter of those moments, of that silence that could be inhabited by music, of that color and that wind that should be a painting, of the movement of dust that is dance.
It is, life is the reason for art, and human beings must know how to look at it to understand why a masterpiece is austerely a table with a bowl of fruits by Cézanne, or the light on the white dress of a woman on the beach. of Sorolla. Before learning to see art, we must learn to see life, listen to it, feel it and describe it. By loving the value and pronunciation of words we can love poetry; witnessing our fickle and unpredictable nature, we will enjoy the theater; and looking for the sounds of our body, our voice and steps, we will know why we invented music.
Art is not rhetorical speculation, it is not the petty idleness of works that lack invoice, creation, talent, which are sustained by economic speculation and the arrogance of the
VIP art. Take any object and use it as art, make memorabilia and social or emotional blackmail the pretext of a work of art.
VIP art is not observing reality, it is repudiating our ability to understand and transform it.
The decadent and stupid image of contemporary VIP art, its accumulation of ideas and objects, shows that a part of society insists that we stop understanding and instead imitate and add people incapable of creating, which forces them to obey. The one who imitates and cannot contribute, obeys, is prone to manipulation, joins a comfortably overcrowded thought.
The most violent and rebellious attitude, the riskiest act of courage is to observe reality, understand it and transform it into a work, it is the act of freedom that gives meaning to our human condition. These works are our own life, each gesture of our existence is guided to the transformation of it. We have grown and survived with that impulse, and with it we add knowledge. To stop changing what we live, to admire the nature in which we live, would make us disappear as individuals and as a species. Art and science are those fundamental steps in our survival that give space to the spirit, and that give me space to look at my cat on the roof.