Aildanio, They pose for me. They move at every blink. They know of the transience of each moment.
Me too. In a split second, the light changes.
I don’t mind. “You have to act promptly, or everything begins to disappear” said Cézanne.
There are parts of me in them, even my name is written on them.
But those are not my features. Or… are they? Is it me? Is it everyone?
Some of them have faces. Others have eyes. They are all looking.
‘Aildanio’ is reflecting on the fragility of life. We end one day and reborn the next. Reinvent
yourself. Win a second on the clock. While we live, we are dying.
In “Portraits before death” there are human fragments: eyes, ears, silhouettes… None of the
inhabitants of these works has their features intact, they are deteriorating, deformed and fading
over time. That very second when they are captured has already passed, they will never
be as they are in the portrait. Like us, they are fragile and finite.
That way of representing incompletely the human figure is a reflection of my own experience
when I lost one of my legs in a traffic accident when I was 17. I have always thought that it is
the way to tell my story in a veiled way and I have understood that this is why the “inhabitants”
of my works are incomplete beings. One eye, one nose, no mouth. You don’t need a mouth
to speak. They feel imperfect, unfinished. They seek complicity in the viewer. An exchange of
glances, everyone looks, is enough to understand that there is a hole to fill, a leg, a hand…
Creating a dialogue with the viewer through the silences in the figure, trying to get the observer
to fill in those gaps, makes them ask questions about the work, creating an exchange of
sensations.
Looking for a moment at the world through eyes that are not your own.
The digital home of Welsh culture.
The digital home of Welsh culture.