VISUAL CATHARSIS: ART AS A REFLECTION OF THE COLLECTIVE SUBCONSCIOUS
By Antonio Sánchez. Director and Curator of 1819 Art Gallery
Art, in its capacity to reveal the invisible, confronts us with our own specters. In this pictorial series, the artist unfolds a visual language that transcends traditional figuration to delve into the fragmentation of the self. Echoing the dark surrealism of artists such as Zdzisław Beksiński and the psychic automatism of André Masson, these compositions do not merely illustrate scenes, but immerse the viewer in a space where the human, the organic, and the oneiric collide.
Here, bodies twist, faces disintegrate, and forms seem to crawl out of the subconscious into an uncertain materiality. Skin transforms into landscape; cracks and textures evoke the erosion of memory, while objects appear to have been extracted from a symbolic universe that defies rational logic. The work stands as a visual testimony of a psyche in crisis—a labyrinth where identity dissolves and consciousness becomes trapped in a hall of mirrors.
Painting becomes an act of dissection: each brushstroke functions as an incision into the flesh of reality, revealing not only what lies on the surface, but the deeper layers of the human psyche. The distorted and fragmented faces evoke the imagery of Francis Bacon, where the figure collapses into a contained scream—a reflection of existential anguish. The presence of decomposing anatomical elements suggests the inevitability of time and the fragility of the body, recalling the still lifes of Flemish Baroque painting, where memento mori emerges as an unavoidable constant.
The use of texture and painterly material reinforces this sense of transience. Skin becomes an eroded map shaped by the passage of time; cracks across bodies and objects act as remnants of a hidden history. Here, paint is not merely representational, but a battleground between the tangible and the ephemeral. Gold, which in medieval sacred art symbolized divinity, appears here as a trace of disintegration—as if the aura of the sacred had been contaminated by the decay of the contemporary world.
The symbolism within these works is rooted in the tradition of visionary art—one that seeks to open pathways to hidden dimensions. Elements such as the butterfly, the chameleon, and the presence of mutating anthropomorphic forms suggest constant metamorphosis, a transition between states of consciousness. The recurring presence of the eye as a central element evokes surveillance and self-awareness, recalling Michel Foucault’s concept of the panopticon: a structure of power in which the subject is constantly observed, leading to self-regulation.
The compositions are traversed by diagonal lines and directions in tension, as if the scene were on the verge of collapse. In this sense, the artist engages with the structure of the Baroque altarpiece, where theatricality and drama intensify the viewer’s emotional experience. The presence of exposed flesh and distorted faces also recalls the imagery of Matthias Grünewald’s altarpieces, where the body is presented in a heightened state of suffering—as a vehicle for redemption or condemnation.
However, unlike traditional religious art, where suffering is oriented toward transcendence, here it remains immanent: there is no redemption, only transformation. The human face, disfigured and mutable, confronts us with the impossibility of a fixed identity, echoing Jean-Paul Sartre’s reflections on existential anguish. Within this pictorial universe, being is not defined by what it is, but by what disintegrates in the process of becoming.
The objects that emerge within these works—musical instruments, weapons, fruit—belong to a system of signs in which meaning remains fluid. A trombone may function as a silent scream; a weapon may symbolize power or oppression; an apple may represent desire or corruption. Within this semiotic field, the artist compels us to look beyond the image and to interpret the work as an open system of shifting meanings.
From an aesthetic perspective, the chromatic palette reinforces the psychological impact of the series. Flesh tones and earthy hues refer to the materiality of the body, while contrasts with black and gold generate a sense of unsettling theatricality. This use of color and light recalls Caravaggio’s chiaroscuro, where illumination not only shapes form but intensifies the emotional charge of the scene.
Each painting functions as a threshold—an invitation to decipher the symbols of a pictorial language governed not by everyday logic, but by the grammar of dreams and memory. The city of the mind becomes the true protagonist of this series, its surface marked by scars—traces of a past that continues to pulse beneath.
Ultimately, these paintings operate as mirrors in which the viewer can recognize themselves—not as individuals, but as part of a collective unconscious. They are documents of transformation in process, affirming that identity is an ephemeral construct, and that the true essence of art lies not in the representation of reality, but in its capacity to reveal what remains hidden from plain sight.
“DREAMS”
“MIRROR”
“BONFIRE OF THE VANITIES”
“GLUTTONY AND LUST”
“THE EYE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS”
“CATHARSIS”
