The verses glued to the eyes.

"The invisible is not dark or the mysterious but the transparent" Marcel Duchamp in "Naked appearance"by Octavio Paz.

Some times our words transform what we see. It is as if we carry them glued to our eyes.

A word linked to a part of the image with a thin connection, associated with others, is a metaphor.

 Sometimes the sentences hide reality, but others show it twisted like a cord.

In this last work, I resort to horizontal compositions where my face and hand appear connected in a diffuse space reproduced by double photographic exposure and digital mixing of texts and images.

 I will arrange the photos in a future montage online. To be able to be contemplated some superimposed on others.

Using these semitransparent fabrics, I have resorted to experimenting with overprinted visualization. I had experienced before using other means: double exposure, glossy finishes that emit reflections, and collages with prints made on waxed paper. However, I had never previously exhibited any wall photos printed on a veil.

This piece has a good view of the rear even though we are not able to read it. I have the project of making an exhibition of this work next year.

Verses glued to the eyes

Stitches in the clouds

threads of thought

this veiled image brings me to the memory of Doris Salcedo's work in the MOMA

Verses on slates

 Verses on slates:

This work began in 1999, and it has not finished yet.

I printed several photos and sentences over different kinds of paper and fabric and glued them over slates.  I  took these pieces from covering a roof. They are self-portraits pasted on my family members’ portraits.

I glued it in layers one over another,  erased it partially by the time or rubbing. I have placed them to a fine-grained black metamorphic rock easily split into smooth, flat pieces. The images and support lose layers,  like the text.  It is stripped of words and seeks to complete its meaning with the other layers of phrases.

I enjoy working on photographs, considering them both as representations of something objects turn with their corporeity this way. Their deterioration becomes a metaphor for the passage of time, forgetting, and memory.

Visually they remind me of Rauschenberg’s transfer drawings. The artist recycles an American collective memory into alternative narratives disengaged from a linear history. These ethereal drawings reclaim scraps of printed media combined with hand-drawn and painted passages. I did it to make pictorial poems that subtly reflect the excesses of contemporary visual culture. In my case, my work would depict my self-representations along time and my aging process..

Slates paradoxically seem to me paleolithic mobile screens with their messages on social Networks.

Claude Monet: my garden would be an inspirational place.

When I was ordering my plant pots, I thought it is my favorite place to work. I wished I would create an innovative artwork about this scene.

Immediately, Monet’s Giverny garden came to my mind. It was gorgeous. Not only because had it offered a beautiful subject for his paintings also it was visually inspirational.  It is a break-through, an innovation view.

Monet made  The Water lilies in the last decade of the long life. Their power is not only of inspiration stroke but of an enduring passion, both for the artist’s subject and his vocation. 

As a photographer, I have been interested in knowing the sight process and how we think that we watch. Even when Monet’s paintings are encountered one at a time, the artist’s environmental vision is apparent in their magnitude, and, more important, in their scale vis-à-vis an individual’s perception.

Surface and reflection could be questions for an artist who wants to capture a plant in the water. He focused tightly on the water surface. Monet succeeded in making paintings that convert the viewer’s role from observation to immersion.  From the outset, the artist envisaged them as all-encompassing. 

María José Gómez Redondo, "hugs and verses" 2020

María José Gómez Redondo, "hands in the water" 2013

 

Claude Monet 

Water Lilies, 1914–26
Oil on canvas, three panels, each 6' 6 3/4" x 13' 11 1/4" (200 x 424.8 cm); overall 6' 6 3/4" x 41' 10 3/8" (200 x 1,276 cm) The Museum of Modern Art, New York

 

 

If you want to know what is the legacy of Monet’s garden to the Modern painting you should read this article:

Ann Temkin and Nora Lawrence. Claude Monet: Water Lilies. The Museum of Modern Art, 2009.

Her self-portrait

 Time-stretched self-portrait

 

Berenice Abbott. Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman. Negative c. 1930/distortion c. 1950

I was looking for self-portraits made by women artists and found an article in https://www.moma.org/magazine/articles/256. A guide to five powerful self-portraits in the MoMA collection

I felt shocked by this. Berenice could not have influenced my work because I did not know her work when I started to do my photos.

This picture gets several things that engage me:

- The photo is the result of two shots: one in 1930 and the other in 1950. It might connect with the concept of Delay in Duchamp.

- The distorted face connects with the combination of various cubism views and distortions in surreal images. The taking of photos also connects with the press images taken by the POP movement, Andy Warhol art, and with the concept of appropriation in post-modernity.

This self-portrait places Berenice in three positions: model, photographer, and spectator of her image. She said about the picture: I like this picture so well because it re-creates some of the feelings I got from the original scene, and that is the real test of any image. Berenice Abbott, 1953.

When I start to do my artwork, I concentrated my interest in photographing photos that I have seen in the press. I believed that art has closely related to the exercise of learning to watch. I soon realized that not far from the image we see, there is another one, which is less stable, which seems to be moving, and I decided to combine them, trying to raise the one which is always left behind, hidden.

The photographer Berenice Abbott chose to distort her face in this self-portrait, a contrarian response to rigid beauty ideals for women.  It also evokes a sense of vulnerability in a moment of sweeping technological and social change following World War I.

By warping the paper under the enlarger, Abbott emphasized her eyes that she looks like a cat. Her fascination with the flexible inscription of reality in photography overrode vanity. However, the distorted face is still recognizably hers-described at the time as a face with no edges, boy-cut hair, and kewpie eyes.

We both throw the formal construction of the images posed as related fragments are made very clear. Pieces of paper, transfers on the photographic emulsion, imprints on different supports,  I make the image acquire a technical depth in keeping with its visual complexity.

Face, diptych, photography printed over the fabric. 1 m length 1.50 width 

María José Gómez Redondo 1999