Ver, Oir y Callar

The acid green background triggers an immediate optical clash against the fiery silhouettes of the three felines. Diverging from the traditional allegorical sobriety of the three wise monkeys, the canvas recasts the proverb through an electrifying iconography charged with corrosive humor and disquiet. Each figure, built from vibrant impastos of carmine, orange, and violet, takes on a truncated sensory mandate: an external limb reaches in to annul vision, the central paws clamp the ears against the surrounding clamor, and the final specimen presses its paws against its muzzle to seal its testimony.

Hovering along the upper band, detached from the bodies, the organs of perception appear converted into almost votive emblems. An insomniac eye with a hypnotic, striated iris, an ear pierced by a metallic hoop, and fleshy lips bound by crude stitches with a suspended needle engage in vertical dialogue with each character. This fragmentary duplication fractures the playful tone to introduce a reflection on the mechanisms of censorship, overstimulation, and complicity before what is witnessed. The watchful eye that registers everything contrasts eloquently with the stitching that suffocates the voice.

The painterly execution relies on black graphic lines that define planes of pure color, while warm gradations and cool glazes coexist across the torsos with intense textural dynamism. The unyielding frontality of the figures and the cats' stunned, wide-eyed gaze dismantle any decorative complacency. There is no refuge in the supposed innocence of the domestic feline; the covert violence of the stitched mouth and the chromatic stridency turn the space into a lucid warning about social surveillance and the forced surrender of speech.