The Presence of Things


When I started to paint, painting was an incomprehensible concept, something that emerged in shapes and colors from a distant place. Since the moment I visited the Bellas Artes Museum in Santiago de Chile, I was trying to understand the meaning of the act of painting or what is left of such act; it became a necessity and, throughout the whole process of comings and goings of different moments, it was always there with the same substance which makes the painting come alive. The blueprint is what is left behind by the painter during the act of painting, and thus, painting then becomes a presence, a manifestation of an actor inside the painting, a manifestation that returns the essence of things. To paint and understand the painting means to dive in the geology of the frame in order to understand its layers. The various temporary gestures leave behind a residue in an almost invisible manner and finally, a gesture, a dot, a ray of light, a glow, filled with that blueprint, matter and presence are what makes the object not only real before my eyes but also present. This is the way in which painting became for me and act of inner strength that comes from things itself and that appears before me everyday like a gift given by eyesight.


When I saw a painting by Claudio Bravo from up-close, only a small detail like a ball of yarn in which I could see the colored strings made me understand that there was within a manifestation of a bigger reality that becomes real and alive on a canvas, because that small string which is no longer a representation of a natural relationship with the eye makes us recognize what we see, the string becomes simply yarn, albeit, in its most humble form.

Therefore, the reason for me to paint has to do with presence, has to do with materializing objects, manifesting it, making it real, turning it into another space of reality in the shape of a frame. Painting then goes beyond reality, beyond that space which confines representation, there where the object comes alive, and takes us back to contemplation.

What would a human be without contemplation? My paintings are only the most humble form of a transfigured reality.