From my own delay I longed to find what was promised. The hustle and bustle of the city, the scandalous delay in the guagua's trip and the hustle and bustle in the Latino's wifi park, made me run to the shelter of the announced omen. We all know that in our idiosyncrasy low talk is a rarity, and therefore a suspicious act. Skeptical, without contemplating how disturbing the latter might be, I only let myself be carried away by the title of this exhibition.

As soon as I was in the gallery portal, everything seemed to indicate that I found the murmuring oasis I was trying to find. But, immersed in a disturbing mixture of mistrust and success, as soon as I crossed the threshold of his door, the overwhelming murmur of the works shouted without contemplation. Very well plotted for someone unprepared before such a lure! In a thunderous visual variegation, each fragment of wall wanted to shout out the content of the message that his works propagated. From that very first moment I saw Giselle Victoria, the curator of such an orgy. I confronted her, as if she were attacking a bull in the bullring, but she dodged with such skill that she seemed anointed (emerged?) with a certain grace to avoid any premature criteria in relation to the confrontation of the spectators with her curatorial conception. Then he explained to me that there would be a conversation.

In an uneasy interaction, in which everyone seemed to raise the expressive tone of their statement in relation to that of their neighbor, they found themselves: Ezequiel Suárez, Yornel Martínez, Jorge and Larry, Alina Águila, Marrero, Irving Vera, Jenny Brito, Reinier Nande, Alberto Casado, Fernando Rodríguez, Bernardo Sarría, Boris Santamaría, José Ernesto, Kike Wolf, Ítalo Expósito, Serones, Lara Romero, Rodolfo Peraza, Nacional Electrónica, Teoría Dorada de Popeye, Virgilio Piñera, Duchamp, Joseph Beuys and disheveled Andy Warhol . Faced with the overall exhibition, we would suppose that to speak softly is not just a symptom of prudence, civic manners or other civilizing practice. In its essence, well exploited by Shakespeare in his dramaturgy, it may be the best resource to transmit the underhanded spark of a scandal equivalent to an angry crowd.

Honestly, these people mumbled about many things, things that mortify their existence; a discomfort of ears, lack of resources to travel or to return, desire to shout or, by simple aphonia (badly overcome in their formative years), lack of loudspeakers. It was like being at the Quivicán bus terminal during peak hours: everyone is imprisoned for the same dysfunctional circumstance, but no one does anything to bring about an effective change, only to protest for their piece of living situation (At least we know there is discontent). In this sense I think that the real leitmotiv of this massive effort administered by Giselle can be found.

There are numerous resources used by exhibitors, from graffiti invoiced directly on the wall, drawings drawn on unorthodox surfaces, stickers, installations, electronic music, to digital supports for the projection of videos or other audiovisual springs.  It is opportune to extol the wise idea of choosing all the loopholes of this gallery for such a purpose, because of the labyrinth of its somewhat underground space, giving the impression that architecture and visuality, mediated by the suspiciously low tone of the artistic protocol, were part of a single purpose. 


By: Amilkar Feria Flores
Palatine Entropic Observatory / June 18, 2019, 11:15pm