Ramiro Martínez Plasencia’s work usually unfolds after the viewer contemplates them since the images themselves seem to be created in such a state of mind. The environment of some pieces resemble at times our own real space, but even these, when seen next to the more imaginative environment, look like dreams.
The profoundly rich character of the paintings by David Meraz has a strong fit with the views developed by Carl Jung and Northrop Frye. A careful look at this whole series, “Lion of the Night”, with a focus on the archetypes, gives the viewer a strong framework to understand the maze-like associations of his work.
McDermott and McGough explore the present by showing us the growing gulf between today and the recent past. Rather than only juxtaposing our divide by presenting an old image, they prime us with associations that are both instant and rich.
23,895 hairs, tarantula shaped, uses primal elements to create an instant sensation in us, bridging the gap between human and animal, using human hair to create discomfort. Hair, able to detect subtle changes in pressure, is exactly what we fear when we see it in insects, but not in us.
The simplicity some of Trini’s work shows gives us the illusion of something we can comprehend, but we are fooled: our eyes are drawn into the simple elements before we realize that we are engulfed by the painting.
Ximena Subercaseaux marries the intellectual to the emotional, finding depth in in complementary ways. Each painting seems to have its own exploration of feelings, the formal aspect being the interaction of the colors with the other elements, making our thoughts cycle through the elements.
Dan Llywelyn Hall reminds us that we are an extension from the 20th century, that the objective reality has changed little, and that what the 21st century is mainly a change in perception. He emphasizes that we are a continuation of modernism, shifting the postmodern lens.
Maya Lin attempts to map what looks like ever-changing sand dunes, giving us information of both the surface and the depth. The surface of the segments look almost like bar charts, reminiscent of derivatives. The volume of the blocks, however, would be like knowing how many grains of sand the original block would contain, even if it is imaginary.
Miriam Medrez’s dialogue with the sculptures of Louise Bourgeois immediately places her in the psychoanalytic realm, begging for such a reading of her work. Though the sculptures cross over from subconscious language or symbols and moves into more concrete, if archetypal, fears of being a human, questions not necessarily proper to the realm of psychoanalysis, but to art and the humanities in general.
Several people told me about Martha Pacheco’s exhibition in Mexico’s Museo de Arte Moderno. The comments were always first about the shock of the experience and then about their reaction.