Writings
My Little Books - Personal Glossary - Press
Synchrony
As our world becomes more aggressive, more strongly influenced and driven by the massive media, and our individual and collective behavior becomes conditioned by it, I find myself interested in reflection and thought as a means of finding hope and development for the human being.
My proposals include workshops and shows with adolescents, as well as my own work in the shape of installations and performances that attempt to generate an emotional and insightful experience. I have used graphisms and patches of color as instruments that approximate a sum of symbols. These symbols metaphorically evoke at once unity and fragmentation, inherently necessary for the human condition in order to impart some sense to our reality. In the adolescent’s world this is the passage to adulthood, to maturity.
This type of interdisciplinary activity allows me to unveil the adolescent’s world through their own point of view, while respecting and sharing their process of growth and socio-cultural adaptation.
--Rossella Matamoros,
San José, Costa Rica, 2014
My proposals include workshops and shows with adolescents, as well as my own work in the shape of installations and performances that attempt to generate an emotional and insightful experience. I have used graphisms and patches of color as instruments that approximate a sum of symbols. These symbols metaphorically evoke at once unity and fragmentation, inherently necessary for the human condition in order to impart some sense to our reality. In the adolescent’s world this is the passage to adulthood, to maturity.
This type of interdisciplinary activity allows me to unveil the adolescent’s world through their own point of view, while respecting and sharing their process of growth and socio-cultural adaptation.
--Rossella Matamoros,
San José, Costa Rica, 2014
Certitud irrefutable
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Unquestionable Certainty |
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Contra la ausencia
Obligada Yo me encuentro a olvidar, a pues su ausencia me corroe y me hiere, b sin embargo el recuerdo lo requiere b no he vuelto a pensar en su mirar, a ni en su fuerza, ni en su mente, elaborar a desconcierto e impotencia que me aflije b una vida, un vistazo al que se quiere b me rebelo al dolor de su no estar a Es su ausencia una llama que se mueve b fue un momento de momentos recordar a fue final su silencio y ahora duele b fue un fulgor que llegó a su descansar a fue luz cuyo destello nunca muere b y extendiéronse sus alas a volar a Silencio El silencio es una forma envidiable, a de pasarse mucho tiempo en reflexión, b un estado muchas veces de creación, b espacio íntimo jamás despreciable a momento de silencio inagotable a es útil calma en momentos de tensión, b al dejar de lado la conversación b vivencia que recuerdo irremplazable a Es una forma de encuentro en la pasión b el origen del recuerdo irrevivible a es la lluvia que te calma la razón b una poza de encuentros, apacible a es un hálito de cielo en el corazón b una llovizna de luz indescriptible a --Rossella Matamoros New York, 2012 |
Against Absence
Forced, I try to forget his absence hurts and erodes still, memory demands I have thought no more of his gaze, of his strength, his mind, I have not elaborated confusion and powerlessness afflict me a life, a glance toward the loved one I rebel against the pain of emptiness His absence is a flame that moves a moment amongst moments to remember his silence was final and now it aches a glow beginning to fade he was light whose brightness never dies but extends its wings to fly Silence Silence is enviable, passing time in reflection, or frequently in creation, an intimate space never to be pitied A moment of never-ending silence is a handy calm in times of tension, leaving conversation behind for experience I remember as irreplaceable It’s a form of meeting in passion the source of unrecoverable memory it is rain that calms reason a well of meetings, gentle it is Heaven’s breath in the heart a mist of indescribable light --Rossella Matamoros New York, 2012 |
Evidences
In the city of Washington, D.C., on September 11, I decided to begin a series of drawings/collage as a testament to an experience. With the subsequent unravelling of the facts, I thought to question everything and to stand in a corner as a witness to what I understand as my race: the human race.
Throughout history, my race has been prone to both war and peace. Cycles are repeated, and everything seems to indicate that genetic behavior follows a natural process of rising and falling.
Despite all the horror and suffering that we carry in our collective memory, the lesson hasn’t been learned well enough to prevent us from repeating the devastation and destruction. It’s as if each moment we are born anew and each moment we forget everything that has happened since the prehistoric era.
There is a constant in these cycles, which is the fear and deep despair of a single person, of thousands and millions, creating a collective internal war that is then projected onto others, converting them into bitter enemies.
Humankind’s killing capacity has no logic, nor end. We have become predators, and even though we know this, my race continues to destroy itself. It seems that it is always more important and stronger to live in the moment, than to prevent disaster, always reaching the brink, and leaving exhaustion and disillusionment in its wake.
My race never fails to press its luck and has not assumed its share of responsibility. It’s as if your Higher Self gives you tests to guide you forward and make you aware of your obsessions, and even so, you don’t learn... You are not generous, you are filled with pride, and worse still, you reach a point of denying your own existence, and that of all other living beings.
These are signs that there is no solution, that nothing changes, that no one knows more than the other about the world and what is in it, that there is no tolerance, or inclination for harmony, that we are many, but few at the same time, that we are alone and yet accompanied.
What reality is my race searching for? Where does it think it’s heading with so much violence? What is its path, or better still, its final destination?
I have stood in a corner to observe my race…
Signs or evidence is a series of small-format works that express my questions, since I have no answers to what I know about my race in 2001.
Throughout history, my race has been prone to both war and peace. Cycles are repeated, and everything seems to indicate that genetic behavior follows a natural process of rising and falling.
Despite all the horror and suffering that we carry in our collective memory, the lesson hasn’t been learned well enough to prevent us from repeating the devastation and destruction. It’s as if each moment we are born anew and each moment we forget everything that has happened since the prehistoric era.
There is a constant in these cycles, which is the fear and deep despair of a single person, of thousands and millions, creating a collective internal war that is then projected onto others, converting them into bitter enemies.
Humankind’s killing capacity has no logic, nor end. We have become predators, and even though we know this, my race continues to destroy itself. It seems that it is always more important and stronger to live in the moment, than to prevent disaster, always reaching the brink, and leaving exhaustion and disillusionment in its wake.
My race never fails to press its luck and has not assumed its share of responsibility. It’s as if your Higher Self gives you tests to guide you forward and make you aware of your obsessions, and even so, you don’t learn... You are not generous, you are filled with pride, and worse still, you reach a point of denying your own existence, and that of all other living beings.
These are signs that there is no solution, that nothing changes, that no one knows more than the other about the world and what is in it, that there is no tolerance, or inclination for harmony, that we are many, but few at the same time, that we are alone and yet accompanied.
What reality is my race searching for? Where does it think it’s heading with so much violence? What is its path, or better still, its final destination?
I have stood in a corner to observe my race…
Signs or evidence is a series of small-format works that express my questions, since I have no answers to what I know about my race in 2001.
Intuition to Memory
The works based on improvisations of dance and Japanese Butho, are made in front of the public . Both types of dance are related to each other, since they produce movement based on mental images.
Through dance, I have learned about the instantaneousness of movement and its relationship to the gestural drawing and the line, which requires a mental and physical synthesis sustained by memory. Thus, in a few seconds it is possible to capture the image and feeling of the dancer.
This series of drawings and paintings explores the instantaneous and intimate aspects of movement. Each work is separated temporarily from the other by a different thought and experience of the dancer, resulting in a sequence of unique moments.
Each one of these movements-experiences is suddenly frozen to embody a “recognized” character.
--Rossella Matamoros
October 1996.
Through dance, I have learned about the instantaneousness of movement and its relationship to the gestural drawing and the line, which requires a mental and physical synthesis sustained by memory. Thus, in a few seconds it is possible to capture the image and feeling of the dancer.
This series of drawings and paintings explores the instantaneous and intimate aspects of movement. Each work is separated temporarily from the other by a different thought and experience of the dancer, resulting in a sequence of unique moments.
Each one of these movements-experiences is suddenly frozen to embody a “recognized” character.
--Rossella Matamoros
October 1996.