Like a plastic artist and not like an ophthalmologist, AIRES invites us to a paradoxical operation of cataracts. The veil that prevents the flow of rays of the light, or the opacity that covers the crystalline and clouds the humour of the eye, are transferred to the images of the horror that protest march in screen like a hardly visible sequence.

Armed attacks and jumps to the emptiness, tortures and executions summary, sackings, attacks, bombings, strafing. Our morbid daily ration: landscapes of a total war and multiform catastrophes. One of the blind clairvoyants whose painful comment illustrates in off the visual parade describes this way his state: “Nothing. I think of the absence, of absence of light, of colour, of darkness.

The possibility of looking at something and not being able to see it, as if it was invisible. As if it wasn’t there.” Instructions to see the television horror: to dispossess it of his epidermal impression, to deprive it of his big cinematography of special organic effects, to impose on him a thread that blurs the superfluous thing and emphasizes the essential thing. The unavoidable complicity of all that we contemplate this cataract of images in real-time or deferred with the illness that they transmit as an evil eye.

The psychical poison that they radiate might blind us forever, but we must keep on looking at them, against any censor, like to a hieroglyphic of the contemporary conscience. Extinguished temporarily the TV, the private environment serves as refuge against the muffled horror of this ocular pandemic. Walls fulfilled with popular icons and media myths, where our imaginary one and our most intimate desire interlace with the collective fixation of both in an often unsatisfactory intersection. The fame or the celebrity as obscene forms of the individual fantasy consummate in public. Deeper, nevertheless, the embellished snapshots of the memory and his immersion in the leaked light of the nostalgia wait us. One day we were happy in these mental places impregnated with the magic of the eventful meeting of our body with other bodies, of our meat with another meat, of our members with other members.

The absence dominates now these scenes in the same way that others were occupying them earlier with his furtive presence. There is nothing left already in these idyllic images of those clandestine idylls, the prohibitive pleasures, except the voluptuous coloration of the reactivated desire, the intensity of the contact is still possible among bodies that unknown to each other and seems to belong to different times. These empty stages of the past or of the future (the desire withdraws after all chronological difference) present themselves as decorated passional cigars. Naked celebration of the place, ornamental framing of the affectionate frame. The peace or the calmness (simulacrum of peace or of calmness, rather) contributes them a luminous and warm wind, a golden blast that blows between the ruins of the satisfied desire and also of the unbeatable horror as to diminish the fever or to attenuate the pain after a long trip across this devastated world.

The textile impressions of DORADO return us to the condition of spectators transferred to another side of the common screen, where the cushion of our settlement transforms in defaulting spectacle of our moral assent. Sentimental actors of a strange script that is unfolded in thousand and one possibilities of meetings, rubbings, kisses and caresses, scratches, scrapings and wounds. Secret pleasures that the solitary memory conserves in metaphors of the metamorphosis, butterflies embroidered in thread of his own chromatic cocoon, or codes in antagonistic images of guns and sexual flowerings, shots of love and jubilant sprouts. And, especially, it becomes incarnate in this cosy and fragile construction, this eccentric house of stamped cloths where would seems to reign the carnal hospitality of the lovers and also it watches the ambiguous presence of the death. Nevertheless, the fiancés are not afraid of her and take pleasure in inviting her to the wedding as witness of their vital promise. Yes, I want to possess you. Nothing will be able to separate them now.