Curro González is a faithful artist: faithful to himself—one rarely comes across works as sincere and as firm in their principles as those of this artist—faithful to his city, Seville, faithful to his obsessions, whether literary (James Joyce, for example), artistic or film-related, and faithful to Kevin Power, the art critic who has offered the best analysis of the intricacies of his aesthetic discourse and provided viewers with key insights for understanding his complex oeuvre. It has been possible to follow the steady advance of Curro González’s artistic career thanks to solo and group exhibitions held in Madrid, Barcelona, Seville, Valencia, Cologne and Lisbon. González is a ‘bluesman’ (as Kevin Power has described him) who has constructed a home and a set of obsessions in his head. His work, which reflects a profound sense of melancholy tinged with irony, is visually complex and combines influences from popular culture (news magazines) with evocations of great classical painting (Nicolas Poussin, among others). In his paintings and drawings, he often uses forms that relate to dreams and imaginary constructions, cities seen through maps (Hacia el final de la jornada II, 1989), and human beings stripped of their form or immersed in a sea of bodies. His vision of existence is always fragmentary. Landscape also falls within the scope of the cosmogonies he wishes to explore, as in the case of El bosque de leche (1999), but this is a landscape of the mind that shuns realism—a cryptic landscape where hidden human figures breathe, producing a stifling effect. His conception of artistic creation is succinctly expressed by Como un monumento al artista (2010). The work, which can be seen at the Centro Andaluz de Arte Contemporáneo in Seville, is a sculptural representation of a visionary creator surrounded by strange musical instruments.
Juan Vicente Aliaga