Style

     Dear Fran,

     I do not have a clearly defined pictorial physiognomy that makes my works instantly recognizable. And that's how I want to continue for the moment.

 

     Wind quartet in Am for voice and basso continuo with chorus of hens.

     The auditorium is small in size. You could say that it is an individual room for music lovers where only the musicians and one lucky listener fit, since the space it occupies is exactly a little cement bridge with railings taken from an old balcony over the Salado stream. I am talking about a surface area of ​​approximately three by four metres.

 

     Laura and Coca Cola

     It was the dogs´ fault for having met Mrs Brenda. Or rather the fault, in truth, was an inopportune oversight on the part of Mrs Brenda.

     She had taken her pets for a walk as usually does every day, only on this occasion and after spending a few minutes recreating herself in the wonderful landscape offered by the waterfall on the outskirts of the town, she forgot the dogs leash. I -like you- keep wondering how the hell she could leave both leashes behind if that is what she is been doing since she arrived in town four years ago. Isn´t it a gesture that becomes automated by repeating it regularly?

     The path that goes down to the Salado stream is a delight at this time of year. The first drops of water have fallen and the environment smells of freshly washed fennel and wet soil.

     At the end of September and beginning of October, the grouping of many speccies of birds that are going to cross the Strait looking to spend the Winter in Africa takes place in the Iberian Península and mainly in the south; it is the right time to observe incredible flock of Sand Martin like the ones I saw while arriving at an abandoned quarry about two or three kilometers from Pruna.

     There was also an elegant black wheatear nearby, which was entertained by the aerial show of its neighbors since its task as a male committed to raising its offspring had concluded and it no longer needed to carry more stones to its nest.

     And there, she was without taking her reyes off me.

     It was a beautiful short-toed Eagle that took advantage of the rise of hot air that collided with the rock wall and produced a chimney effect. It was flying over my head at about fifty meters and I was able to identify it without any problema because this lady spent a few minutes hovering in circles with centric points without apparent effort. What a joy to behold?

     The other lady had forgotten the leashes… And I wanted to sit for a while on one of the benches at the Cascade viewpoint and there I found what you already know. A few days later Mrs Brenda knocked on my door asking if I had anything that was hers.

     That´s how we met.

 

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

    

 

The Proposal

     Dear Fran,

     I have received a proposal to do a series of paintings dedicated to the Carmona Necropolis. What do you think?

 

   ‘I cut the tree from the Wall’

   Dear Fran,

   These lines make up an obituary dedicated to an old tree.

 

      Dis Manibus Sacrum

       Dear Fran,

       I just arrived from the Carmona Necropolis.

     I have been taking some photos of those tombs where they allow you to enter, because I have in mind to make a series of paintings related to this archaeological site. At the end of the tour I also stopped at its small museum since I want to paint several still lifes with the objects that are exhibited there.

 

     Intimacy in feminine

If you want to know me completely, you have to know my garden, because my garden is my heart.

Hermann von Pückler-Muskau

 

     Dear Fran,

     I met Francisca not very long ago.  

     knowing that she had an exhibition planned, I appeared at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Seville on the appointed day.

     I have to clarify that on the afternoon of the inauguration I was not able to fully enjoy her paintings; the number of people in the room was such that I could not stand at the distance needed to contemplate the images, especially the largest works.

     But even so, the first thing my eyes saw reminded me of some paintings I saw a few years ago in a book that our painting teacher brought to class. Those images had, I don't know how to express it, a subtle touch of Luc Tuymans. And I know I haven't been the only one who has noticed it.

     Secondly, the artist's paintings transported me, I don't know why, to the American Dream, to the movies of the 60s: families with their two-story houses, with a garden, swimming pool, lawnmower and two cars in the garage. Husband who goes to work in the city center and wife who stays doing ‘tasks typical of her sex’, that is, cooking and taking care of the children.

     And here Francisca's paintings delve into the intimacy of these women to provide them with a way out of that golden loneliness. It may seem silly, but one of the pieces reminded me of Mia Farrow!

     Dear Fran, of all the inaugurations I have attended – some more glamorous, others less – this has been the one that has touched me the most. Neither short nor long, neither exultant nor bland.

     Intimacy in the feminine is an enriching experiment that we should experience more frequently. As was said in the presentation, we should never confuse intimacy with identity, much less with sexuality. The intimate, fortunately, embraces sexuality and identity and makes us look inside ourselves, towards who we are.

     A sincere, clean, delicate work.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

     Weekend in Pruna

     What I like most about this small house is its solarium and spending the night here for two days is the best gift they could give me.

     Godoy and his wife come here on vacation, on weekens and when caring for their Little grandson allows.

     The solarium (there are truly many hours in which the sun is present) occupies the space that was previously the hayloft and it´s amazing to be reading or writing, as I´m doing now, to look up and watch a couple of vultures hover in circles above my head.

     This time they wanted to go to the Algarve and they offered me the possibility of spending a few days in the town. Invitation that I had declined the previous times: it´s a shame that the house is closed so you can enyoy it, they convinced me.

     Yesterday, Saturday, I was wlaking with binoculars along the Cascade path that leads to a stream that was loaded with wáter from the mountains.

     Dear Fran, you can get an idea of plants, flowers and birds, always birds, that I could find: the blonde wheatear, the Bonelli´s eagle, the acentor and countless trills among which I could recognize the oriole and the nightingale, just by name the ones I hadn´t seen or head in the longest time.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

     Chaos and ether

     Dear Fran,

     If you pass near Morón de la Frontera you should stop along the way and visit the exhibition of two young artists who show their works at the Espacio Santa Clara.

     One of them is Daniel Sánchez Palomo. He presents paintings where the human body is the main protagonist and that the author places in the center of classic constructions, such as ancient churches or mysterious enclosures. Using blue, he offers us a vision of the characters that blur in a mystical space. This artist has a perfect command of drawing women and men.

 

     I´ve been following Diego Lozano since I started painting and I´ve met him at several inaugurations. Affable boy who offers intimate contemplation of birds in the room. It was a refreshing surprise to see how he has captured the difficult world of birds in a few successful brushstrokes. These paintings range from those where the animal is perfectly recognized to others that border on the abstract and only an eye accustomed to observing nature can decipher.

     You will have already understood that, due to my love of birds and my effort to learn to paint, Diego's selection of works attracted me irresistibly and for a long time.

     It´s a style of painting that I´d like to get closer to, but I´m afraid that will be very difficult.

     Fran, I'm sending you some photos so you can enjoy and encourage yourself to enter this space. It remains open until April 28.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

     That other pain

     This country welcomed me with open arms many years ago when I had to flee the land where I was born and raised.

     That is why what we are experiencing in recent times hurts me. After forty years in Spain I think I have some right to express my feelings.

     All the people I have interacted with since I arrived here, the señora I served until recently, the friendships I have forged, Juani, the woman at the grocer´s, my painting teacher, my colleagues... They have made me feel that I had my new home here, that I was one more, that I could count on them; however, I am perplexed by the evolution that society in general and politics in particular are having.

     Dear Fran, I ask you: How can an Autonomous President publicly call the president of the government a son of a bitch and quedarse tan pancha? But the worst of all are those who laugh at the insult and applaud her. How can a bully brothel bouncer become an advisor and trusted man of an entire minister? How can the Catalan issue be dealt with by deceiving citizens again and again? Why keep giving examples.

    In this corner of the world they don't know what they have and they run the risk of losing everything.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

   Disappointment

   Dear Fran,

   I hope the same thing happens to all artists, including the best of all time.

 

     Of old painters

     Dear Fran,

     Young artists have their whole lives ahead of them. They can take a small brush and take two or three months to paint a multitude of emotions. At my age all emotions come together at the edge of a broad brush and I have very little time to put them on canvas.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

     Ocaña

     ‘Yo no soy un pintor naif, desde luego, eso no es verdad. Yo soy un pintor entre expresionista y fauvista. No sé muy bien dibujar. Dibujo a mi manera, pero si supiera dibujar bien, creo que no dibujaría tampoco perfecto porque no me gusta.’

OCAÑA. José Luis Pérez Ocaña (1947- 1983). Besançon, 1984

 

     Dear Fran,

     This past weekend the painting exhibition I told you about not long ago was inaugurated, do you remember? I have had the honor of being a finalist.

     In the church of the old convent of Cantillana you can find works by very good artists, so I was surrounded by people like Magdalena Bachiller, José Carlos Naranjo and Francisco J. Romero, who were the winners, as well as Norberto Gil, Alba Cortés, Isabel Valle Ayllón, Israel Tirado, Federico Jaime, Francisca Martín...

     My painting shows a place that I discovered in Posadas, where there were some albercas and mangueras scattered on the ground. Neither the albercas nor the mangueras were carrying water and a young lemon tree had died because it could not bear the drought that has settled in these lands.

In ictu oculi

     Fran, there are two painting contests that are held on behalf of two important artists: one is in Oliva de la Frontera, the 'Timoteo Pérez Rubio', in homage to the man who during the Spanish Civil War dedicated himself to saving the paintings of the Prado Museum. The other is 'José Pérez Ocaña' who suffered from the misunderstanding of society in the 1960s and 1970s due to his homosexuality.

     Last Thursday, the night of the opening of the exhibition and awards ceremony, Ocaña's artistic career was recalled and words were heard warning of the direction that things are taking by some groups against the gay community.

     Fran, seeing my painting in the nave of the church made me very proud.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

 

The birds of my town

     Last Friday I was in Fuentes de Andalucía, at the presentation of the book 'Las aves de mi pueblo', the work of Francisco Barcia and which focuses on the most representative birdlife of this beautiful place in the province of Seville.

     I had already been in Fuentes a couple of times, but on this occasion and on the occasion of the Book Fair that is held annually around this time, I traveled to the town due to the interest that a book dedicated to the birds of the Sevillian Campiña aroused to me.

     This is how I had the opportunity to greet and talk for a while with the author of the work and get hold of a copy of the publication that contains a hundred photographs —most of them taken by Paco—, beautiful images that accompany the small texts that help to identify each species.

     I enjoyed an afternoon with people who love what I love and that gave me a feeling of relaxation that I had needed for a long time.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

If you put one color shape against another color shape, you´re making an illusion.

Philip Guston

 

     Dear Fran,

     I have submitted a painting to the Alcalá Landscape Contest (Alcalá de los Panaderos they called it) and most likely it will not pass the first screening. I'll tell you why.

     The image is the vision that I wanted to paint of the section of the Odiel river as it passes through Gibraleón, but, deliberately, on the plane of the canvas there is only one layer of color in each of the parts of the work. This is generally not well seen by the more orthodox masters of painting — the jury.

     The illusion that Philip Guston talks about is achieved by superimposing layer after layer of colors on the canvas and I — I don't know if I'm making a mistake or not — have not followed that rule. Have I risked presenting my 'Río Odiel IV' in a way that we could call superficial?

     The answer in a week.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

Forbidden to get on the bus with that canvas!

     Dear Fran,

     my Fagin project is giving me a lot of satisfaction, but at the same time some troubles.

     Yesterday afternoon and despite the fact that five or six people were going to travel on the bus, the driver — as the captain of the ship — denied me entry because I was carrying a 89 x 116 cm canvas.

     It was the first time that this setback has happened to me, since on other occasions, even once I entered with a 130 cm canvas, I had not had to suffer this unpleasant situation.

     The driver did not know or did not want to tell me what the maximum measure was to be able to access the bus and he only repeated and repeated that the company's ‘normativa’ did not allow it. I told him that if the bus was full I understood that, but with five or six people I would go to the end of the vehicle, without bothering anyone, but no. The ‘normativa’ was him at that time and I couldn't get on the bus.

     What did I do? I let the impenetrable captain drive off with his boat, his bus, and boarded the next nº20 five minutes later, greeted this time by a pleasant smile from the new driver. There were no problems.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

I haven´t picked up

     Dear Fran, I haven´t picked up the brushes for a month or more, but I haven´t stopped painting.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

The song thrush

     Dear Fran,

     yesterday I had a thrush in my hand. Well, it was actually about five feet from my hand.

     I was pleasantly surprised when, walking through a small square, I came across this vivacious bird selecting and swallowing some hackberries, those small sugary fruits with a certain aftertaste of dates. He fluttered through the lowest branches and that is why I was able to enjoy for a few seconds — I do not know if it would last a minute — of that winged marvel.

     Fran, it is been a long time since I went out to the field and with this small dose that this overwintering has given me, I will spend a few days remembering the frozen forests of my land.

     Y. a.

     Mary

 

Door by the River 

Dear Fran,

I would like you not to take what I am going to tell you as something pretentious —you are aware that I hate vain people—, but yesterday, at the inauguration of the La Rinconada painting prize, I had a feeling that I had not had in competitions previous. It was the first time that when entering the exhibition hall I noticed that my work (inspired by one of the American expressionist artist De Kooning) did not clash among the other 13 finalist paintings.

In fact, before proclaiming the two prizes of the night, I was hoping that one of them (of course, the second) would go to me; and even when they announced the name of the second prize, I thought that maybe I could be the first winner!

Door by the River

As far as I know, about 70 works have been submitted to this contest and mine was hanging in the magnificent Sala Maga.

The exhibition will remain there until next November 13. Do you decide to visit it?

Y. a.

Mary

 Seagulls

      What I am going to tell you is possible that someone has already gone ahead of me and written it some time ago.

     Do you know the Van Gogh painting titled Wheat field with crows? Surely you do. Apparently it was, if not the last, one of the artist's last works and where I have always seen a kind of premonition of the end of his life: on a beautiful wheat field (symbol of plenitude and creation), the Dutchman painted a flock of crows (symbol of bad omen) to balance life and death.

     On the death of the author of Sunflowers there has been speculation and will continue to be speculated with various theories. Was it suicide or not? In my opinion I think so and I'm going to tell you why.

     Dear friend, in 1955 Nicolas de Staël died. The suicide put an end to his tormented life and left his work The Concert unfinished. Shortly before, he had painted Seagulls, perhaps following Vincent van Gogh's behavioural guidelines.

     Y. a.

     Mary