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拍品專文
To be included in the forthcoming Manolo Millares catalogue raisonné being prepared by Elvireta Escobio de Millares, Madrid.
"It is obvious that the strength of our art of today finds its powerful inspiration in the line separating the impossible from us. An impossible art-desperate-is always an end and a beginning, a viable form to express things with entire liberty, brutally without restraining walls; a continuous suicide and a continuous rebirth. Everything black and absurd around me tends to drive me infallibly to the possibility of a dedicated protest without pretensions of salvation nor condemnation.
If that is the hidden fountain-the most secret part of my living-if from there arise all the pressing voices which demand difficult and disturbing standards, then how can I decipher the many things which guide me?. With what known rules or available alphabets can I translate them?.
I believe a great confusion arises from that excessive desire of the artist to explain the unexplainable things which appear in his paintings or sculptures. Few are the artist who dare confess their ignorance looking at their own work. Most of them lack the necessary courage and sincerity. They forget that in the exposure of their blood, without strings of decorative beads, and confessing their only and vital need to create, resides their most valuable authenticity. I am not afraid, because in the strict sense of the word, I don't feel the need to understand everything I paint. There will always be somebody who will say that I don't know, where I am going. It does not matter. But I would be upset if at any time somebody could venture to say that I escaped through the branches, eluding the authentic realities of mankind.
To the immediate reality arrives my free and anguished protest: It manifests itself through the tearings of clothes, the pierced and wounded textures, the noise of crashing ropes, the stupid wrinkle of beauty, the telluric wound and the frightful truth of the Homunculus, all flourishing from the humble serges, reserve for this day." (Manolo Millares in Exh. cat. Manolo Millares: Recent Paintings, New York, Pierre Matisse Gallery, April-May 1960.)
"It is obvious that the strength of our art of today finds its powerful inspiration in the line separating the impossible from us. An impossible art-desperate-is always an end and a beginning, a viable form to express things with entire liberty, brutally without restraining walls; a continuous suicide and a continuous rebirth. Everything black and absurd around me tends to drive me infallibly to the possibility of a dedicated protest without pretensions of salvation nor condemnation.
If that is the hidden fountain-the most secret part of my living-if from there arise all the pressing voices which demand difficult and disturbing standards, then how can I decipher the many things which guide me?. With what known rules or available alphabets can I translate them?.
I believe a great confusion arises from that excessive desire of the artist to explain the unexplainable things which appear in his paintings or sculptures. Few are the artist who dare confess their ignorance looking at their own work. Most of them lack the necessary courage and sincerity. They forget that in the exposure of their blood, without strings of decorative beads, and confessing their only and vital need to create, resides their most valuable authenticity. I am not afraid, because in the strict sense of the word, I don't feel the need to understand everything I paint. There will always be somebody who will say that I don't know, where I am going. It does not matter. But I would be upset if at any time somebody could venture to say that I escaped through the branches, eluding the authentic realities of mankind.
To the immediate reality arrives my free and anguished protest: It manifests itself through the tearings of clothes, the pierced and wounded textures, the noise of crashing ropes, the stupid wrinkle of beauty, the telluric wound and the frightful truth of the Homunculus, all flourishing from the humble serges, reserve for this day." (Manolo Millares in Exh. cat. Manolo Millares: Recent Paintings, New York, Pierre Matisse Gallery, April-May 1960.)