We live in unprecedented times. It is already past the halfway mark of the year and yet there seems to be no end in sight to the current pandemic that has plagued all countries. Focusing on our country alone, we have seen many, especially in the medical profession, fall to an illness that is up until now cannot be cured. And just behind it looms a socioeconomic disaster that threatens to further sink us into an unending gloom. In the midst of it all injustice and incompetence reigns. And yet we persist, not only to survive, but also to hope for those that have left us too early, too soon.
It is human nature to hope, even in the midst of a catastrophe, that there is a better future. A dream of heaven, of Elysian Fields, to greet those who have suffered most in the physical plane of existence. For fallen heroes laid to rest we send them on with the thought that they will go to a divine space where all ails, aches and pain are forgotten. As the world hurtles on while suffering through a pandemic that sees no end in sight, we hold on tighter to this dream of a place that will give comfort to those afflicted and those who have already fallen prey to the illness.
In Aubrey Fajardo and Aubrey Maire Caabay’s third two-man exhibition they give us this version of the dream, in soft fabrics and lush greenery. Languid women framed by fields of colorful flowers and cloth, in a space untouched by grief or sorrow. The women peek at us from behind the drapery and flora as if to beckon us towards them, to join them in their paradise.
Fajardo’s work show his figures enveloped by vibrant flowers, saturated light and striking colors that hint at the beauty of the space they inhabit. His oil paintings come to three dimensional space with his venture into sculpture- faces of the women with delicate, peaceful features, untroubled by the world’s problems. They exist in a plane of divine silence.
Caabay’s figures in turn are surrounded by exquisite fabric, the colors only broken by intricate patterns that repeat and soothe the mind to meditation. The oil paintings evoke not isolation, but comfort.
