My work is more than anything an invitation for viewer to enter dreamlike, sometimes surrealistic worlds. I want the viewer to escape for a few seconds from their day-to-day reality without asking questions, only enter and dream, like a type of hallucinogen…
An art critique by (Martin Astorga) Paz Viola eludes to straight-forward interpretation: rather, I have defined his own landscape, articulating new horizons of joyful inspiration, with singular effects of light and shade, of dreamy colors in their textures and shapes.
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
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.
When I re-approach my works as a viewer, I imagine the images as framed and displayed in a certain space such as a gallery or a museum, since I don’t know how I feel about a painting until it is hung on the wall. Hence, one of my favorite parts of exhibitions is when people tell me how they feel about and what they see in my works, and then I become a viewer of viewers.