Moris

Departing from the axis proposed by Bandera a media asta (a sculpture assembled with wood, used tires, a tree branch, an old leather jacket and a cardboard sign) the show moves centrifugally, just like scavengers flying over a dead body. The visitor walks under the sculptures of concrete and rubber, while from the walls, this time more naked than covered, different dialectics are enumerated at one same time: the paintings are documents, the documents are titles, the titles are tools.

If the experience of entering a gallery may be brief, according to the kind of situationism that the act of visiting has been turned into these days, it is in its mechanism of counter flux, in its power of restraining the frenzy, where Moris’s oeuvre detonates and resonates, not in a strictly sensorial sense, but in that fabric that promotes statements and contradictions. Thus, we are made co-responsible for the act and for not acting; it proposes us to choose a different role every day as in the piece Asesino, created on the basis of a game of synonyms on cardboard, ready to be worn hanging from the neck each day of the week, in the manner of the assemblage entitled Semana 1, and of its detailed, handcrafted armory.

A journalistic volume of nota roja (popular crime periodicals) has been processed as raw material and as syntactic form of his production, and in such dissection it has channeled to different media that which the document on “social certainty” provides to those who buy it with the intention of reading it or to those who only look at the sordid cover and do not buy it. Miradas is a series of collages that underline that stand of the reader and, perhaps, that imposture of the photograph as a narration: images of groups of criminals, which once the pictures have been taken, are amplified and coated with black acrylic, but not as a form of censorship but of condensation, since the only unveiled part is in the expectant eyes of the visitor, who ends up perceiving him/herself in the same way.

Two opposed statements, one made of branches painted in white and another made of sharp objects used in crimes, generate a parenthesis in which the viewer ends up taking a stand: A veces el cobarde sobrevive and Muerte a los cobardes. And the counterpoint of the maelstrom, the object poetically revealed as microcosm in the pictorial exercise, is Morir gallo, a cloth that has served as a ring and whose traces circumscribe the clandestine in cockfights and a metaphor for such a confrontation: time, violence and death in order to survive.