27 Oct. 2012 // 13 Oct. 2013

caderno de viagens | JÚLIO RESENDE | Brasil

Galeria do Acervo | Collection Gallery

Records from Brazil are abundant, which emphasize the emanation of the Tropics as a Life-generating fountain of the harmony between Man and Nature.

I am not moved by a nostalgic feeling, because when I am within the four walls of my studio, I have Brazil in my studio or wherever I am… Maybe motivated by a need to recover a certain gesture. I can already feel my hand moving in a luminous exaltation, exploding with joy. Yes! I had seen a child and a parrot flooded with light.

The fascination about Brazil might be explained by sociologists for an artist who is not looking for the explanation, but understanding has to be submitted to the living experience of immediate confrontation.

The Northeast Region of Brazil has entered into me as a desideratum that fate brought me.

Everything happens in harmony and in it one finds the swaying of the coconut tree, the girl’s gait and the sound of the opossum…

Free from the load of many concepts, I begin looking at and seeing the world.

Quick and inexorable watercolor, requiring a visual acuity that is not always possible due to the circumstances of conditions. Bent over myself, often the pad lying on the ground, the watercolor box next to it, the dust that rises or the insatiable insects that invade the watercolor box, not to mention the sun’s flare that sets the paper on fire and punishes the eyes. So it happens. The document hides it or maybe tells it…

India ink and watercolor celebrating! There, there are the diagonals, as a resonance of Brazil, for ever more. Genesis of an oil painting that never was… Life is a moment!

It is night. From the end of the deserted street, vague sounds of melodies come, which, in the cobbled square, have gathered people that will indulge until late night, Waterfall goes to sleep…

The Brazil that touched me was the one of the Northeast region and to it I owe a new conception of pictorial space, the one exempt from physical weight.

The swaying of the leaves of the coconut trees, the melody that comes from who knows where, the speech of the people, the gait of the girl, are all in the genesis of these forms.

The hammock, everywhere, so that the pleasure clings to the body. The artisan in Olinda forces pieces of soul to jump out of the wooden block and sings a song, while the girl dreams in the net of a rug of memories.
How is this related to the painting I create?...

In the small circle of trees within the urban layout, at the exact hour, ageless men come with their pet birds in artisanal cages for their individual whim.
At the right branches, they hang the cages in an all-white smile, for hours to forget.
A few meters further, I try my sketches.

Up high, there is a blue that falls to meet pink that stretches in gradation. This race is intercepted by a black that ruins its verticality. Thus, a black power is imprinted in an oblique provocation. In its middle, the more obvious pink submits to the intention of the black. This had been and indeed was a man sitting on the ground and enjoying a slice of watermelon. Nothing is more prosaic…

When the Sun sets, the Waterfall slowly awakes.
Colonial windows are opened to the cool breeze and from them girls holding multicolored birds emerge. Other girls pass them, who stop there to confide their love.

Júlio Resende
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