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ESP

UN HUESO DURO DE ROER
por: Carla Hernández Esquivel (Q.E.P.D.)

He drives on enigmatic roads, with apparent passivity. He introduces us with death suspended in the image. Cauduro makes it possible to live in death, because when he creates, he generates the possibility that nowhere is there.

In each work, in each image, he places the possibility of not dying, of continuing to exist through dispossession, through the corpse in progress, he materializes the illusion of the afterwards, he proposes through the simple vulgarity of a technique, a color, a patina, the immortality.

Cauduro’s work unfolds in stages, in cycles, it depends on what he is experiencing. Although he is a highly imaginative man, he also needs to have his feet on the ground, to be confident with every step he takes. He demands himself to amaze through his work, he is concerned not to surprise the viewer. With insolence he seeks the spontaneous in everything related to his art.

Passion is another especially important component of his nature and each of his painting reveal it in that way, women is an element that attracts him extremely / in extreme. Feeds on her sensuality. Impatient, he transfers her as he perceives it to the fabric. His models are risked being represented as old age or prostitutes, without being it. Create / build and destroy is the salt and pepper in his painting.

Sensuality is one of his main condiments and when he does not have it or wants to replace it, he paints cars: what man does not experience this passion.

Mystery and strangeness are the vehicles of his motivation, the “why” of his creations.

It is not possible to decipher Rafael through his painting or hope that his experiences will show us a flesh and blood representation of Cauduro. What he experiences does not entirely determine the creation of a new work; the discipline at work and the seriousness with which he takes his daily task are unavoidable, this decides his next work. Rafael hates being labeled, it bothers him to get associated with the concept of realism. I would consider him as an island, matter drives / boosts him, and with matter he deceives us.

Its recreated in the uncertainty that it produces in the viewer, what I see is true, but it is not, however it has existed since I have been touching it. Through his work, we are given the grace to feel faith in the absurd, to experience passion, pain, loneliness, silence, incomprehensible matter. Nothing is true, but it is possible.

Death and life come together hand by hand in Cauduro’s imagination. For some, Cauduro’s images are cold, distant, for others design and composition, there are those who see eroticism and even necrophilia, all opinions are valid, because it is true, because the strangeness of what is lost, of what is no longer there, it translates into what we want to read: in the way he speaks and transports us he reveals his own feelings, allowing us to identify with his paintings.

Rafael says that he is not religious, and yet I do not know a person more religious than he is, art is his altar; life and death, his saints; sex, the last exhalation; the skulls, Christs and detritus, his candles. And the human beings, ghosts, spirits that wander endlessly between the scenarios that he manufactures and dismantles incessantly.

Rafael’s imagination wanders incessantly, he travels on ideas, on changes, on new origins, on different expressions, he seeks to surprise the viewer, but fundamentally himself. Every day, each new material, each new technique, presents itself as a new challenge. He has the enormous ability to make anything special. A pin, a wheel, a screw, or a cathedral. A child, a dog, a drunk or a prostitute. Nothing is what it is, neither are the human beings he represents, everything is a bus where he transports his memories, desires, or anxieties, or simply the much sought-after perfection.

Perhaps for the viewer the work that he observes is, at first glance, a whole, a single representation, like the freezing of a single photographic instant. Before, that sole image was built during hours of loneliness, of insomnia:

The first step is the idea. The second, the design and drawing over blank fabric, fiberglass, metal, wood and now glass. Third: the texture has its flats; it paves the way and sometimes makes it difficult. Fourth: the color, my favorite, in this point he either fascinates me or it makes me want to kill him.

© Rafael Cauduro 2020 - All rights reserved.