The
elements constituting the composition, often doubled, sometimes quadrupled,
generate a unique order, system… The figure with one leg crossed over the other
– perhaps half-sitting, half-reclining. Perhaps – because we cannot see more of
his body than his two legs and one of his hands, as it touches his crossed leg,
holding a burning cigarette between his fingers. And all this appears once
again: in the crags of the island before us, a copy of the two legs and a hand
mentioned above is distinctly visible. This time looming through the forms of
the rock. It is as if the figure visible only one-third, located in the bottom
third of the picture, were surveying himself in the forms of the cliffs.
Is this all an optical game? Or the one
seeking balance creates these symmetries? These mirror-images? Because this
way, completion can arise? This way, counterbalanced, which is overly lacking?
This is how the world can be whole? Or by chance, just the opposite? The world
is like this? Divided? Broken up into opposing elements? Conflictual? And this
is where its dynamic lies? The synthesis of opposites is inherent in its
duality?
Elsewhere, multiple repetitions. Series of
repetitions. Exactly the same on a smaller and smaller scale. Page-turning hand
in the book for the umpteenth time. In another composition – in a variant of
the Island mentioned above – three islands accumulate, so to speak, upon each,
the first the island of man, the second depicted as real, overgrown with thick
vegetation, and the third above. What has raised it? The imagination? A mirage?
A cloud acting as island? Enigmatically, and visible only to those who have the
ability to see that which is there beyond? To those who have passage to the
other side? Or let’s just put it this way: this is more than physical reality,
the visible nature of physical reality; this is metaphysics?
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