Catalan artist, Mònica Subidé, is currently having a Miami solo debut with KDR305. Running until the end of this week, La Mujer Que Llora (The Weeping Woman) borrows its title from the iconic painting by a certain Pablo, presenting works in which resolute marks and bold, vibrant colors convey emotional states and spaces. And since this series of paintings and works on paper directly continues on her exhibition I’ve curated at Pelaires Cabinet a year ago, I figured I could share a few lines from the text I wrote about that body of work:
Subidé embraces the freedom of the painterly process, using the inner flame as fuel for the journey. “When you make a ‘mistake,’ that is the moment a window of opportunity opens in front of you,” she says, describing her creative path and revealing a sharp awareness of its challenges. The intuitive, capricious, and largely unplanned process unfolds through laborious, alchemic experimentation, resulting in densely layered, richly textured meditations on sensibility, the body, and nature. In this space, masses take shape—a body, a head, flowers—generating concrete forms from otherwise unseen elements just as the void of a hole becomes defined by its edges.
The abstraction of these envisioned elements is meant to suggest the mere existence of the motifs rather than their portrayal or depiction. As a result, the relationship with the surroundings becomes the subject matter, conveying a sense of intangible, fleeting experience rather than a concrete, fixed memory. While the visuals may hint at storytelling, they refuse definition.
This adventurous, daring, and imaginative approach, coupled with the willingness to make mistakes and respond to them, creates a tension between freedom and control, construction and destruction, resolution and chaos, experience and imagination.
Text by Sasa Bogojev // Photos by Rodrigo Gaya
