Instruments

By Xisco Barceló

Notes and sounds emanated from the fruits of his experiments, gradually filling spaces in the conscious or subconscious mind. (Even back then, in those early paintings by Guillem, the tunes that sun-dried vine tomatoes and early morning hours dedicated one another were audible in the background).

Their atoms were formed by an orchestra that was forced to play from an imaginary stage. A cello broken in half, a piano with metaphysical keys, violins that released the colours of each arpeggio, trumpets that marked the origin of disproportion.

The day would come when Guillem would manage to soften the feel of the papyrus in a process of gestation that would exceed the audible threshold of voices and instruments.

Each one had to have a capacity all of its own. It had to be manipulated and fragmented. Each painting would become a manuscript where he would leave traces of the tracks and hegemony of those musical compositions.

We would be able to interpret hitherto inaccessible scores. The link had to possess the resistance of an umbilical chord.
The sediment began to spread and acquire consistency, taking charge of each of the threads of the tapestry. The melodies had germinated.

I like the composition that Crespí i Alemany has chosen as the title of this exhibition: Instruments. It unites musical nuances with mental self-restraint.

I like the fact that one day, midway between work and inspiration, he decided on the unnatural inclusion of these musical elements. I like to know that he uses the paintbrush to sprinkle meaning, to be able to hear how the pondering of an artist sounds.

To describe the series of paintings that Crespí i Alemany is exhibiting on this occasion, I wanted to convince myself that I had never seen anything of his, that I could not review his artistic repertoire. I knew that it was not fully possible, because I had known Guillem for a long time. So I took it as if it was a blind date. I did not see any of his canvases at all before presenting his
work. I had to imagine what shortcut Mr Crespí would take.
I closed my eyes and put my hands in front of them to keep out the light.
Doors began to appear, all the same size and all white. I went toward the only one marked with the letter “l”. I opened it cautiously and my mind at once closed all the others.

The first impression that invaded me was a sensation I had felt when I was a teenager. I soon understood that it was the same attraction you feel when you discover the first inklings of love.

Yes!

It was that simple. I felt the tenderness of the kiss of a fifteen-year-old! Love for those endless paintings that I did not know, but to which I was tied by a transparent thread.

An event I had experienced in his studio sprang to mind: the ritual of an artist tuning in the wavelengths of apparatus to match the planets of his inventiveness. Had I let myself be influenced by the final outcome? The ink playing at hide and seek in the nooks and crannies of the wood pulp.

The oils and acrylics joined forces among the figurative abstractions and abstract figures.

Guillem had managed to make an aesthetic and expressive impact. He had created a ring, in a marriage between the musical and the plastic arts.

What a privilege to witness the spectacle!