The exhibition was a retrospective of Mariano Cornejo. I’d never heard of the artist, but we had time to kill and it was starting to rain, so we went in.
Abstract shapes teased my imagination. Textures of smooth wood, torn paper, rough metal and cracked oil paint made my fingers itch to touch the paintings and sculptures.
Pigments blended together in gradations, sticking in clumps on the wooden canvases, etched and pierced by nails. Paper and card were layered, ripped and pierced to reveal contrasting colours and shapes. Blocky pieces of wood fit together to make animals that looked as if they’d been frozen in mid-wing flap or prowl.
I felt so at home, among these creations of a person I’d never met. There was a connection, an overlap in how we experience the world. I was reminded of the power of art. The power to communicate and affect, without language.