OUR SWEET
SEA
Paulina Laura Miguel take us into the colors of a story narrated between her own voices and of others at the same time. A painting made of traces of a family story that seems to tell us that an Italian twilight of an April night, Minerva’s owe flies high because tomorrow will no longer be night.
Glazers of playful and rigorous paintings in unison scratch the event of exile, tearing apart the darkness of the eternal ghost of a land and its sea, that are pronounced on the face of canvas.
We are far from irritability of things that return by themselves as a mere reminder of their indifference, but we are also far from the melancholy that becomes painful to the world and that immobility indicates the depth of thought and the diversity of knowledge next to things.
Behind the scenes of scenographic paintings that does not speak to us of the past, but everything that return us always present. Fast, subtle and thinner waters than any instants, uniting lands, from one part to another’s of their arrow indefinitely constant, make a story from the past but as indefinitely current.
Papyri of a story read from the southern lakes that speak of Mediterranean waters listening to the hands of their own clock. Mountains of moments and echoes of love in an infinity of collages and superpositions of windows that direct us toward scenes from a biography as an archive of the present. Juxtaposed canvases of a trip with its departure and arrival of which there is no final arrival but the constant record of a transit diary.
A blog of surreal floras and faunas like a background curtain of the theater of the unrepresentable of the documentary that duplicates multiple windows in the pictorial scene opening the subtle trace of colors and pregnancy of the photo record accompanied by a sound landscape.
Drawings and watercolors on airplanes and boats like sipario in phrases and writing of a book that is yet to be reissued like the work and the days it takes to cross the sea. That paradoxically sweet sea shared by Paulina Laura Miguel where her family history becomes the history of all of us.
We always find ourselves on the edges of the sweet sea, a landscape stupor, a pictorial phosphorescence turned into thought. Because exile is much bigger than the moment of living it, being happy too.
DR. CLAUDIO ONGARO HAELTERMAN
2016
