In the beginning was the Landscape. Greenery, lake and mountain views were shrouded in a fine mist, lightly designed in pastel-colored patches. The interaction among pictorial elements flowed harmoniously, hinting at virtual silence. Yet, days went by and the wind blew profusely, chasing serenity away. Thus, in Felipe Góes’ new series of paintings, matter has thickened, brushstrokes have bristled, and colors vibrated in violent confrontations: waters lit on red, orange and magenta-hued fires; jarring greens have seized the skyline, forecasting mysterious dawns; the lava from erupting volcanoes have polluted the skies to the point of transforming them into earth reflections, not the other way round. It seems like the cosmos inhales gravity, bristling nature or what’s left of it.
The daily cycle governing life – whether the painter’s life, or our daily routines’, or nature’s, or the planet’s, or even the celestial bodies’ settled in galaxies – is self-paced, it doesn’t depend upon wishes and wills. In the face of this ineffable reoccurrence, the illusion of changelessness asserts itself. However, the circadian rhythm transmutes the indisputable in these paintings, presenting a new conundrum: in the beginning was the Movement.
Text by Regina Teixeira de Barros
Two solo exhibitions simultaneously held at Galeria Kogan Amaro, São Paulo and Zurich.