On this piece of cloth I repeated patterns, and created not only music and rhythms but marks. My shoes ripped at the material over time and changed it’s form. This process can be seen as dealing with a few elements; time and decay, movement, and residues.

I recently read a chapter in a book called El Espejo Enterrado, in which Carlos Fuentes describes the flamenco dancer as the moon which gains it’s sense of gravity from the planet it circles, the earth is the voice. “…Un grito, se ha dicho, no debajo de las palabras sino encima de ellas. Un grito ahi donde las palabras no son suficientes. Pues es el alma lo que canta en el flamenco, dandole voz a las emociones mas obscuras e incontrolables.” pg.39

Perhaps this art piece is unsuccessful in that it is not directly expressing that which is truly the soul. It is rather, solely a residue, a vibration, an outline of what this music created in my body and transfer to an inanimate object. It is illusive and references the intangible, an act that you as a viewer can  never see or hear. At best, it’s a scenario pieced together with imagination. In this respect even the color white can be read as referring back to Rauschenberg and John Cage, this moment of conversation between music, dance and visual art that existed in the 50’s. The idea of silence of the color white, as a reflecting back only what the viewer brings to it.

I saw a theatrical production here in Mexico DF, en Coyoacan to be exact, it was three men acting…the story was that one man spent 500, 000 pesos on a completely white painting. He shows it to his friends. One of the friends appreciates it, while the other thinks it was a waste of money. Their perceptions of this painting are played out through their characters and influences their relationship as friends.

What is the value in nothing?

What is it that the viewer brings to a piece of art?

It is a perception.

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