Inauguración de Es Solo Pintura (2016)

Opening of “It’s just painting” and musical performance of “experimental noise”
Saturday, October 22, 2016 from 7 p.m.,
Opening of the exhibition “It’s just painting” four-handed drawings by Manuel Santiago and Marie-Noëlle Ginard (free admission)
From 9pm concert by “experimental noise” by Vito and Juan Mardaras.
Can Monroig, Can Valella street no. 22, Inca

In October 2014 we started this experiment in Can Monroig that we call #It's_just_paint with the collaboration of the painter Manuel Santiago.
The first months of this collaboration took place in an improvised workshop on the upper floor of Can Monroig where Manuel and I (Marie-Noëlle Ginard) we each painted on our own on large panels.
In July 2015 we had a memorable session painting some sofas in the “underground” of Can Monroig, this time there were three painters, Manuel, Vito Mardaras and myself.
An incredible atmosphere was created under the influence of the music of Nils Frahm. It was the first time we shared support and worked on each other's fresh paint, with some anger and annoyance included; but as we have always maintained: the process is what matters and that afternoon was unforgettable.

Vito, Manuel and Noelle

A few months later we left the studio and Manuel and I moved to the ground floor. Sometimes we painted in the library area, other times on the dining room table, and sometimes in the “underground”. What happened then was that we started drawing and painting on paper from some old sea charts we bought at the flea market, but not separately, but together, both of us on the same support. Manuel would start by drawing something and then I would paint on top of it, the paper would be exchanged several times until we liked the result.
Throughout 2016 we invited musicians to play improvised while we painted, interacting with each other: Violeta reciting or singing, Javi Cuenca on the guitar, Elisabetta Monacelli with her cello, Adela Ferrer and her piano... but those who managed to create absolutely suggestive atmospheres were Vito Mardaras and Sebastian Alomar.

Text: Marie-Noëlle Ginard

It's just painting from Can Monroig on Vimeo.

Experimental music concert at 9pm:

Victor Mardaras He is a creator of sounds that evoke wide and dark atmospheres, disturbing landscapes occasionally illuminated by melodies of melancholic light. His hypnotic rhythms guide us through an unpredictable journey. His music is created on the spot and is completely improvised.
Juan Mardaras He is a musician from Bilbao with a long career in the field of experimental noise, and on this occasion he will share the stage with his brother Vito improvising and interacting with each other, following the guidelines set by It's just paint, creativity laboratory for these musicians and painters.

It's just paint

The drawing, the skin and the look

Although it's just painting,
I discover the trace of your trembling stroke,
the imprint of your pulse denotes rage.
Although it's just painting,
It is the drawing of a four-handed dance,
choreography of dancers who seek and find themselves in clumsiness,
that seek to make the ground tremble and the air thicken to crystallize each gesture.
Although it's just painting,
we draw an impossible cartography of fluids,
a mess of sounds of the soul.
The rhythm of hearts guided by the magma of unorchestrated music.
Although it's just painting,
We thread brushes and pencils with threads of blood that suture and saturate wounds,
We weave nightmares and leave them close,
at hand to dress ourselves in them.
Although it's just painting,
We border on the same pain and mark infinite satellites of everyone's wounds,
that we touch in a shout leaving its echo within us.
Although it's just painting,
We open our pores and show our wounds,
We strip the skin of artifice to flood it with emotion.
Epidermal topography of clumsy measurement, without showing itself to be complete or useful.
Although it's just painting,
we caress with cruelty,
We get irritated by the insistent appeal until we say enough.
We share the footprint and the matrix,
until losing the egoic digital record.
An erasure, an annulment of style, abandonment in the humus so that the new may emerge.
Although it's just painting,
Covering ourselves with snake skin and leather, we layer on layer what happened,
promising that it will be the last layer of an infinite palimpsest.
Tear off our skin in strips to make ourselves a new suit,
of inept Siamese twins who dance in the echo of dreams.
Although it's just painting,
We open stations every minute,
shuddering with the passage of time that we read in the sounds,
a turbulent, confusing sea where one can be shipwrecked, permeable, and soaked naked.
Although it's just painting,
We travel by throwing luggage in each loop,
that reminds us that we have been here before.
Pilgrims of the gaze, blind apprentices,
looking from the deck of the last ship.
Although it's just painting,
We left our wounds open,
for which to look inward rather than outward.
And in those guards with bodies shot through with arrows,
that sheds crimson drops of recovered joy.
Although it's just painting,
we debut a new look,
that our old eyes already had it clouded.
In this state of four hands and eyes turned upside down,
of inverted dances and landscapes of stumbles,
We understand that we are not if we are not
and that opening wounds is being healthy,
to look again with the witness of the other accompanying in silence.
Although it's just painting,
in seeing I do not despair,
Because looking so much almost leaves us blind.