|
|||||||||||||
| ARTIST'S STATEMENT
|
|||||||||||||
|
|
People
always ask why my protagonists
are so often skeletons. First, let me point out how happy and full of
life my skeletons are. They are dancing, eating, praying, getting married,
driving around in their fantastic cars, and playing music. They are
about life, not death. In 1984 I had a death experience, and can
bear authentic witness to the fact that there is life after death. Perhaps
that is one of the underlying meanings. But the fact is that thinking about death has helped me tremendously in my life. It has taught me that life is precious, fragile and heartbreakingly beautiful. Perhaps art is the artist’s desire to hold on the beauty of moments, to save a sunset or a face forever. Death has taught me to be grateful to be alive and to enjoy life as if every day were the last. Death has taught me what is important, what should be forgotten and forgiven, and what should be preserved and nourished – and loved. Without death there would be no ethical sense, we need death to be good, to evolve and grow. Without death the good laughs of life would not be so rich. Another reason I love skeletons is because they are deeply democratic – only an expert can tell if a skeleton was once a woman or a man, rich or poor, what race the person was, what age – everything is equalized by death reminding us we are all human. And skeletons are so beautiful! Every bone is tooled with such awesomely intelligent engineering. The paintings are very allegorical; there is a story in every one, sometimes long and full of multiple meanings. They are very complicated, full of symbols, of bilingual jokes, and there are details tucked away that people only find if they look carefully. I am trying to find a vocabulary of symbols that can be understood both by intellectuals and people with no education. I am trying to find a visual vernacular without class distinctions, a visual Esperanto. I am fascinated by double identity, by the Crypto Jews, by people who live simultaneously in more than one cultural reality – like Mexican immigrants in the US, or Indians. I use nichos with doors to express the relativity of historical memory, different versions of the same historical event or rite of passage. I love low riders – or the Car Art of my New Mexico. The car is partly responsible for global warming and environmental contamination, it is connected to war, terrorism and political maneuvering; it is a symbol of wealth, status and power. I am delighted that the Chicanos of my tierra natal have turned the car into art. These cars are utterly useless; they are painted on the underside! They are so low you can’t drive them, the rain stains their incredible murals, and sometimes even the air filters are covered with diamond tuck velvet, and the engine painted! The low rider is a very ironic art form, and I love to paint irony. _____________________________________
|
||||||||||||
