the vast chasm of life
by Douglas Messerli
Enrique Martínez Celaya Lone Star / L. A. Louver gallery, Venice, Los Angeles, April 9-May 16, 2015, I attended the opening evening reception on April 9.
Artist Enrique Martínez Celaya begins his newest installed environment, Lone Star, with an image of a tearful young male, surrounded with mirrors, his tears collecting into a pool of sorrow, banked and framed by a mound of what appears to be some kind vegetation, but apparently is made up of bird-seed. A typed flier that accompanies this show observes:
On the evening of a turbulent day in my childhood I searched
the night sky for something in myself that was adrift and
looking at those stars and at the abyss of nothingness between
them, I felt both a piercing awareness of selfhood and an equally
intense sense of self-negation. Although I had considered that
dome of stars many times before, it had never seemed as relevant
to who I was nor as distant from my life, but what struck me
most was the awe and dread I sensed at facing the mystery of
the vast hole above me.
The artist does not explain what triggered that day of such immense turbulence and poetic longing or at what age and in which country he experienced these sensations. Born in Cuba in 1964, Martínez Celaya was uprooted at the age of 8 when his family moved to Spain, only three years later forced to transfer again to Puerto Rico. Such vast shifts in cultural landscape might alone have set off the romantic-like wanderings of mind and self-reflection that dominate this artist’s work. His intense feeling of isolation against the vastness of the universe is apparent once again in this beautifully realized show of interconnected works of art.
In The Border (2015) we observe what appear to be birds but which might also be blackened cacti atop of block of crystalized ice, suggesting various notions of “borders”: climatic (cold and warm), representational (birds or blooms of cacti), color (black and white), and temporal (day and night).
If the young boy of The Invisible (or the Power of Forbearance) of the first room is utterly disconsolate, in The Prince (2015) a similar adolescent stretches his hands upward to the leaves of a tree, hinting of athletic and sexual prowess, which is connected (again with the written material the artist has provided) with the image of a skate, which Martínez Celaya describes in poetic terms as “Water-ravens. Impatient. All eyes. / Slimy, like vaginas. Smelly, like sheets soaked in urine,” and which upstairs in the gallery space he employs again in the image of a boy lying with his head upon the beast in The Relic and the Pure (2015).
Los Angeles, April 14, 2015