The latest works, the triptychs for this exhibition, are completely covered in paint and are part of a nocturnal series in which the sky is central. The holes extend over large blue planes and could be constellations, gunshots, peck marks, or simply hammer blows on a piece of wood. It's as if this simple destructive impulse could change and have multiple meanings. I stand there in front of these images painted on lacerated chipboard and think: Am I here? Am I the one looking into the painting? Am I inside or outside the image?
Matias Duville
