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UNTITLED/ORIGINS exhibition 15.5.15 @ SPACE (Creative Collective Copenhagen)
The following 10 works were exhibited at SPACE on May 15th, 2015 for my first solo exhibition titled: UNTITLED/ORIGINS
Untitled/Cosmogenesis
Mixed media on canvas
(80×140 cm)
SOLD
Untitled/Abiogenesis
Mixed media on canvas
(150×150 cm)
SOLD
Untitled/Structurae
Mixed media on canvas
(100×120 cm)
SOLD
Untitled/Replication
Mixed media on canvas
(100×80 cm x 2)
Click on image for better resolution
Untitled/Bivalve
Mixed media on canvas
(80×80 cm)
Private collection
Untitled/Vulva
Mixed media on canvas
(100×100 cm)
Untitled/Post-Chrysalis
Mixed media on canvas
(100×120 cm)
SOLD
Untitled/Scintilla
Mixed media on canvas
(100×100 cm)
Untitled/Meristem
Mixed media on canvas
(100×100 cm )
SOLD
Untitled/Mesoglea
Mixed media on canvas
(150×150 cm)
©2015 Pablo Saborío
Beyond Language
toward skin
It was a simple answer
or no solution at
all
but to get rid of
perplexity
with fire
the works in a blaze
and the path
opposite the column
of smoke
into the arms of a woman
that sleeps naked
like the shore
of the sea
in my bed.
Contemporary Poetry
Art in the 21st century
“Despite all its powers, society cannot sustain the artist if
it is impervious to the vision of the artist.” – Henry Miller
What is art today? More precisely, what does art convey? Art has become an adornment, mere embellishment to our mechanical society. It is what you hang behind an office desk, in the hallway of a bank, in the solitary confines of a museum. It is what is read while we travel between two points, what is listened to while we drive to work, what we assist to in moments of laziness and passive submission to entertainment. It is that which is viewed askance, situated in the periphery, unobtrusive to the real function of society: business.
Art is no longer an expression of a deeper vision of reality; and if it is, we, at least, no longer perceive it as such. It is aesthetic, no doubt. But it is not beautiful enough to secure a prominent role in our routines. As far as we are concerned, it is pastime, an elegant but inferior activity in life. It conveys no truth or doubt to the spectator. Life is predetermined and already decided; art is solely an amusement, even if it constantly fights against modern life. It exists as a hallucination, a sort of intoxication that can easily be dismissed as unreal and irrelevant. The serious business of life cannot be questioned; it has no room for the artist and his or her artwork that challenges the unconsciousness of its drives.
And yet some artists do become idols in this culture and their art known universally, but is their artwork studied as profoundly as we study engineering or business administration? The artists’ message, their restructuring of our understanding of reality, their incessant re-questioning of our basic assumptions, remain quite below the general level of public attention. We all recognize the dripping clock of Dali or the visual massacre of the Guernica, some will recognize the dreamy seascape of La Mer or the cavernous sorrow of the Adagio for Strings, the name of Humbert Humbert or Harry Hope may be familiar to a few, a minority will recall The Waste Land or a Season in Hell; but what is noteworthy here is that recognizing these works of art by their name is no sign that we have delved in them and studied them profoundly. We care only superficially of what they imply, what the message is all about. There is no understanding that an artist is a transformation of the human being and is attempting a redefinition of what is to be alive in a mysterious universe. We assume art as a gift to culture by one and the same kind of individual that already lives in that culture.
Art has now been banalized, it has become a career and today there are flocks of artists that operate as businesses, as factories manufacturing objects to be bought and superficially enjoyed. The true artist is rare these days, he or she is muted and oppressed by this contradiction. How to bring forth a genuine work of art in this spurious world that is driven by money? The voice of art is being drowned by the roar of commerce and trivial entertainment. Society has absorbed art; and the artist has docilely submitted to his or her new harrowing role of ornamentalist. The commandments of art are now thus: you shall entertain, you shall impress, you shall produce the beautiful, you shall be famous, but under no circumstance should you dishonor your loving parent: society. Society does not want individuals to think and act differently, to produce controversies that may outstrip the authority of the status quo. Art may produce change insofar as it remains within the parameters of the socially digestible.
The artist is no longer an artist. He or she has forgotten that divine calling of making of life an experiment. The artist must suffer eternally, must wrestle with the incongruities and absurdities of living and dying, must explore the unknown realm of the spirit and (in the words of Rimbaud)become a seer. The work produced thereafter will be only an inkling, an announcement of vaster realms accessible to all, it is an opening at the roof of an abyss for those who dare plunge into it. The experiential adventure of consciousness is now going extinct, there are few enthusiasts left. It is a form of wisdom that society ignores and lumps together under the heading “esoteric mumbo-jumbo”, or more spitefully, “madness”. (Hasn’t history shown that many great artists were deemed mad in their time, only later to be proclaimed visionaries?). And yet this wisdom is no particular statement or philosophy; it is an active engagement with the mystery of creation, what once was the domain of the artist and religious fervent. Today art as well as religion is downplayed as historical curiosity, still operating as long as they leave intact, and even follow, the new order created by the God of modern civilization: money.
Before I collapse (Acrylic Painting) 2011
town drunk
It feels good
not being an artist
no language to impress
philosophical thoughts on cheese
a bit guilty of the next beer
depleting bank account
it feels good
to walk on snow
so crisp and pure
drinking the next beer
getting drunk
and all the rest
it feels good
to see the snow
fall
my cold breath
dunking beers
and all the rest
if feels good
to have left Berlin
now just a town drunk
not even a
punk
poems
Famous and rare modern art paintings at Statens Museum for Kunst, Copenhagen-Denmark
The National Gallery of Art in Copenhagen (Denmark) has a very special collection of famous painters, such as Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, Andre Derain, Georges Braque and many others. Some of these works are classics of modern art while others are rare, seemingly paint sketches, of these great artists.
The museum itself is no longer free (120 DKK), and has mostly European artists with an emphasis on Scandinavian painters. Modern art paintings are on the top floors of this Danish museum.
Edvard Munch, Death Struggle 1915
Norwegian Painter
Vilhelm Hammershoi, Seated Female Nude, 1889
Danish Painter
Peder Severin Kroyer, Boys Bathing at Skagen. Summer Evening, 1899
Danish Painter (Badende drenge en sommeraften ved Skagens strand)
Carl Bloch, Samson and the Philistine, 1863
Danish Painter (Samson hos filistrene)
Henri Matisse, Landscape near Collioure. Study for “The Joy of Life”, 1905
French Painter
Henri Matisse, Portrait of Madame Matisse. The Green Line, 1905
French Artist
Henri Matisse, Nude with a White Scarf, 1909
French Painter
Henri Matisse, Goldfish, 1912
French
Henri Matisse, Still Life with Nutcracker, Ca 1916
French
Henri Matisse, Young Woman Looking at the Sea, 1923
French
Henri Matisse, Pink Onions, 1906-1907
French
Henri Matisse, Odalisque with a Screen 1923
French
Henri Matisse, Odalisque, 1923
French
André Derain, Woman in a Chemise, 1906
French Painter and illustrator
Co-founder of Fauvism with Matisse
André Derain, The Church near Carrieres-sur-Seine, 1909
French
Georges Braque, The Harbour at l’Estaque
French Painter, renown for his work in Cubism along Picasso.
Georges Braque, The Metronome, 1909
French
Georges Braque, Trees at l’Estaque, 1908
French
Georges Braque, Melon, Fruits and Cup, 1925
French
Jean Metzinger, Woman with horse, 1912
French Painter, inspired by Fauvism and Impressionism but known for his Cubism.
Fernand Léger, Woman with Vase, 1924
French painter, sculptor, filmmaker
Asger Oluf Jorn, The wheel of life -January Picture from the Suite of Seasons, 1953
Danish Painter
Michael Kvium, The power of thought, 1991
Danish Painter
Pablo Picasso, Glass with Lemon Slice, 1913
Spanish Artist
Hope you enjoy all these modern art paintings, I will keep posting the best works of art from best museums around the world.
Lucian Freud
The Mold of Reality
THIS IS HOW I SEE IT…
Artists, poets, musicians, philosophers, scientists – in short, anybody who creates becomes a sculptor of human reality. They all exhibit aspects of human life that are present – or possible. One life is not enough to survey all the possibilities that can be brought upon the living experience; we must share with each other the Spectrum of the Possible, because we need more than two eyes to visualize the totality of human existence.
In a world where most men and women are concerned primarily with “making a living”, that is, having enough money to buy stuff and have sufficient comforts for raising a family; in this world the prospects of poetry, pure science, art, philosophy become irrelevant, if not insignificant, at least, secondary.
But my view is contrary to this widespread carelessness. I conceive life as this:
We are a crowd of gazing eyes all found in the depth of a lush valley. Most eyes are focusing on the ground, ensuring that each step is safe, reasonable (and profitable!). But amongst this majority of conformists there are a few visionaries that focus on more than just the flatness of the ground. These few are studying the trees around, gazing at the stars, describing the colors of insects, monitoring the motion of the wind, and endless observations take place that are ignored by the mass of robotic somnambulists. All these irrelevant and beautiful things the minority gazes at are equally real as the beaten path most walk upon.
To end this metaphor I kill everyone and then ask the reader to capture what human life would have been without these few wanderers:
it would only be a muddy track of monotony.
No complex forms of nature (trees), no immensity of space (stars), no microscopic detail (color of insects), no invisible mystery (motion of the wind), etc.
ONLY A
MUDDY PATH…
This is the importance of the poet of human existence, of the artist of human potential, of the musician of the human imagination, of the genius of human exploration. They give depth to human life, they bestow on reality a wider dimension.
Some come upon this rotating planet to fill the mold,
Few others come here to fashion this mold.
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