Murga and Candombe are very much in my blood. They are the music to my memories of summer Carnivals, light, colors, songs, rhythm, expression, freedom, and dreams. I remember sitting by the pavement with my family, water balloons and confetti in hand, anxiously waiting for the parade to start. The joy and energy are forever etched in my memory.
Music can transport us back in time or take us to a dreamed future. It awakens memories and elevates us to finer thoughts. Music unifies us with nature and the cosmos, with others and with ourselves. Paintings do the same but in a different way. Music is more subtle whereas visual art is more direct.
When I paint, I let emotions and intuition lead the way. My works do not make statements, which I believe come from the fictitious, intellectualizing self, against which I jealously guard. Nor is my art a transmutation of symbols and ideas into their equivalents in images or forms. When I create, I do not begin with the end or even a plan in mind. Instead, I leave empty space to allow my subconscious self to take over.
I vividly remember the moment when an abstract painting by Matta captured my imagination as a seven-year-old. I was flipping through an old textbook, and an image sucked me in like a whirlpool or wormhole of sorts, into the inner world of the artist.
To me, these images are the poetics of light channeled by the artist as a conduit. The light is transmitted from elsewhere—perhaps from an alternate universe
Perhaps human beings who walked the Earth millions of years ago saw transparent space where we now perceive physical objects; likewise, it is possible that at some point in the future we will see solid, physical objects where we now see transparent space.
Ancient cultures regarded caves as places where transcendental experiences occurred: they were the first sanctuaries; they were gateways to the underworld, to the interior of the Earth itself. In the beginning there was chaos and wilderness, where the earliest humans took to the caves for survival, regarding them as sacred shelters. The epitome of this cave-shelter symbol is that of the womb of the Mother Earth, a place of solace—a common motif across times and cultures.
Mauricio, please kick things off for us by telling us about yourself and your journey so far.
Many life situations inspire me – artists are a little different in the sense that we see differently. I was born in a small town on the shore of La Plata River with the most gorgeous sunsets in the world, carnival, Murgas, candombe, bohemian life, good wine and beautiful women, contemporary artist in New York