We are excited to announce SOLA, Maria Yelletisch's new exhibition at our Turó Park space in Barcelona.
In an intimate reflection on the use of repetition and art as a refuge, the artist introduces us to a series of works that relate her experiences around the phenomenon of loneliness sought and found, the need to spend time with oneself, all inspired by specific memories collected since May 2020.
A narrative on which Maria has been working for two years based on trial and error; an exercise of compilation, of leaving one's comfort zone, but at the same time, of settling down, putting one's feet on the ground and appropriating one's right to be in solitude.
'Finding the right dose of solitude is very difficult. Before, years ago, I used to spend a lot of time alone. Time alone. It's something that can get out of hand, and sometimes I would get depressed or go into cycles of I would get depressed or go into endless cycles of boredom.
Gradually these moments of solitude became rarer and rarer. It may seem like a good thing, but now that I don't get to have them, I need them. And even though I feel like a bad mother, I seek them out.
Alone there are memories of moments lived in solitude, and those have very present colours.
I feel that there is something important in this kind of work; I like to think when someone stands in front of my canvases, I can see them.
I like to think that when someone stands in front of my canvases, each person feels something different.
Something created from something intensely intimate and personal can transport someone to their intimacy, even if it has nothing to do with anything else.
Intimacy, even if it has nothing to do with mine.
My sunrises on the Asturian coast trigger in someone else the warm memory of the last time they hugged someone. That is nice. It is for me.
Among other things, I have imagined making vindicative art, either because I wanted to or felt I should do it.
But no longer, I've decided that I want my work to be a safe place, a pause: a place where I can rest, a place to be. To be alone.
I feel that inspiration is chance, a slightly dangerous term. But the randomness of my paintings is something that I like.
I admit that I always start the same way: from right to left, from top to bottom. But I don't calculate how much paint I pick up with the brush, nor at what point along this route that same brush will complain that it has no more complaints that it has run out of paint and needs to be refilled.
For this exhibition I have chosen to work with oil paint, and I've rarely worked with it because we've always ended up arguing; too dirty, too slow to dry, too slow to dry, too much potential failure. In short, too many things that I can't control. Acrylic brushwork was something I could do with my eyes closed at this point.
And I want my artworks to be a place to rest, I've said that, but not to stagnate. So this exhibition is also, for me, a small step out of my comfort zone.
This kind of controlled chaos is the slight nuance that makes all my works different, even if they start the same way. I like to know that there is a certain involuntariness in how my artworks will turn out.
I confess that sometimes I have felt the need, whether it is internal or provoked by something external, to flee from repetition, to flee from repetition, to flee from the repetition, to flee from the repetition, to flee from repetition, from always the same pattern, always the same idea, always the same mechanics...
But I confess that I don't want to run away anymore. I avow that this is my place, and I admit that I want to stay here forever. I want to stay here forever.
I invite you to accompany me to be alone, together.'
Press release courtesy Alzueta Gallery. Text: Maria Yelletisch on Sola, November 2022.