El Viaje

A strange mineralized creature, half passenger carriage and half antediluvian skeleton, commands the plane with a presence that is as poised as it is disquieting. Amid a daytime atmosphere of cerulean blue and cotton-like clouds, the bone architecture stands upon disproportionate stilts that sink into a sheet of still water. The contrast lies not only in the subject matter, but in the chromatics: a luminous, almost idyllic sky surrounds a strictly monochrome construction, resolved in tones ranging from pale ivory to dense charcoal.

The axis of the piece is defined by the curvature of the spine culminating in a predatory, open-jawed skull, turned over its own spine like a spectral guardian. The beast's ribs articulate the vehicle's framework, pacing the space like architectural arches that organize a row of deserted seats. In one of them, tiny and absorbed in thought, sits a solitary female figure. Her diminutive scale heightens the monumentality of the transport, turning the scene into an enigma of waiting and destination.

The oil handling is deliberately neat; the rounded volumes of the bones and the geometric planes of the steps and seating receive soft modeling, devoid of textural roughness or violent brushwork. This composure in the pictorial application enhances the dreamlike nature of the scene, where the primal dread of carrion is neutralized by an absolute stillness. The scene suspends time: we cannot tell if the vessel has just arrived, if it awaits further passengers, or if it has been stranded forever in the vastness of this desolate horizon.