Critiques By:
Sergio Antillano - José Antonio Castro - Roberto Guevara
Cesar David Rincón - Rafael Pineda - Peram Erminy
Carlos Contramaestre

Francisco Bellorín: Enigmas of Eros
Carlos Contramaestre

My end is near; six women more beautiful than daytime are in
the nearby study; they are the reserves for this moment; take
your part, on their breasts try to forget, following my example,
all the vain sophisms of superstition and all stupid errors of
hypocrisy.

                                                                     - Marquis de Sade

Francisco Bellorín's loyalty to surrealism is truly surprising and it reveals that he is conscious of the "instrument of knowledge" that he holds in his hands and that allows him to bring forth light from the darkness. That is what he achieves with his work. Free from Lam's healthy, yet obvious, early influence, Bellorín accumulates new experiences from the world of Bosch - the daily nightmares. Bellorín makes great use of the "Objects". He extracts from the doll's eyes (who will never sing again). With his oils, Francisco Bellorín opens a window that makes dreams glide through silent zones, through perfect gears, through an erotic machinery, created to nurse monsters, armies of mutilated bodies from our time period. In that battlefield, in that desolate space that reminds us of Chiricó or Magritte, Bellorín's figures emerge. They are Ionescan pointers, feeding the substance of the absurd to these strange creatures. Voluptuous images erupt, true enigmas of Eros, shrouded in horrendous heads of hair, fired violently by an internal hurricane that seduces during the journey. The spectator puts his head in these fantastic traps running the risk of being decapitated by carnivorous wheels or Medusas that emerge from thighs. Bellorín's victims, as well as those of painter Jorge Camacho, convalesce from Nadja's strange and fascinating disease. They are permanently searching for a purer state, for new oxygen, for free genius; much in the same way as the characters of romance novels search desperately for a soft and tearful heart, to place on the nightstand, next to the flower vase or the television. Ridiculing sex, Bellorín's canvases display mutilated women with gray breasts and metallic prosthetics, bursts of lightning, modernized chastity belts, wheels through which desire barely circulates. If at times the drawing is too heavy, losing the levity of the rest of the painting, it is because Bellorín does not only wish to maintain communication via the violent use of color planes, but he wants to establish a direct dialogue with the spectator, through the detailed construction of a monstrous figure. His paintings are a rebellious effort, directed against the moral bourgeoisie that pretends to maintain a sense of order. In Bellorín's paintings, morality strips off its clothing and appears only as an assembled woman's body, an evident symbol of being tied to false ideals of good and beauty.