Los visitantes

Interior 2.1 @interior2.1 presents Los Visitantes by Héctor Rentería @_h.r.__

Due to the lack of space and time to produce large-format work, in 2014, Héctor began a series of small-format paintings/exercises. He began to work them out in small measures of time and space: half an hour, two hours, four hours; 20x20, 10x13, 5x5cm.

Atomized paint. A while in the afternoon to work on a specific contrast, another afternoon to test a rhythm, a few hours in the early morning to balance a shape. And after weeks of living with them, in case you no longer find them interesting, sand them or paint over them; on the edges or on the reverse. Each painting was coming to life with pigment sediments and the passing of the months.

After a few years of working in this way, the small pieces began to move around the studio, appearing in the kitchen, on bookcases, among other objects. His movement for mundane was almost imperceptible. They were never treated with solemnity because they were never finished because they were very small, they were painted on all sides, and because they were not hung on the walls. They behaved and were treated as anything else. They could be easily retouched if they took any damage, so they might as well be stacked in a box or kept close by, either way, they were constantly changing places.

Objects with the ability to camouflage themselves, to establish color harmonies in any environment. In a bookcase, placed in profile, their sides were confused between the spines of the books; a yellow one lived for months lying on a red fridge. Strange and beautiful inserts of one reality into another.

After a couple more years, as a new way of measuring time, they continued to appear constant and punctual. They overflowed from the studio to our house and friends' houses. Héctor began to give them away, they had a suitable format to blend in not only as objects but also as birthday gifts or souvenirs. A friend took it in his shirt pocket. Sometimes Héctor selected one for you, other times he invited you to choose from all of them.

To thank him for the gesture, they sent him in return a photo of the visitor in his new home. Some made long trips, others accompanied a sick person in her bureau during difficult days. One did not want to go alone and stuck to his brother, both with the same shades of green. Another served as an offering, between salt and a glass of water, on an altar for the dead.

In the last eight years, visitors have spread throughout the world.

— Claudia Cisneros