I suppose that for those born on an island, the sea must suggest a whole range of imponderable experiences changeable in time. The sea as a space of emergence and unveiling of life, immeasurable universe, as suggestive as it is strange; as a border, not a space. In the less joyous cases, an everlasting arsenal of non-chosen accidents, a skein of lives torn away in their stretches.
To look above the horizon line may become just that, a set of useless, or at least unsuccessful, yearnings. Then subverting such impositions becomes a gloomy enterprise without guarantee of laurels, or even life. And all of this floating in a sea of circumstances in which water ceases to be creation to become its counterpart.
Alexis Leyva Machado (Kcho) cannot ignore these relativities. And although in his works the sea is shaken by the metonymic presence of boats, oars, propellers, (human) objects in its path, we are sure to recognize that in the wide space “frontier” something is not right. After all, the artist does not know about incidents in situ, but he recognizes in the struggle of the waters sinking offerings that return. Thus, the images and sceneries are constructed from the recycling of forgotten experiences in space, of which the sea is the only witness.
In the act of accumulating and repeating patterns, Kcho finds the automation of the man who seeks the Ithaca in the North, announcing in each of his atmospheres the definitive death. Sometimes present, sometimes absent, we will never know if the “venture” in the artist’s works will once again define categories around what the sea represents for an emigrated islander. Judging by the spells of his creation, it is always safer to look from the mainland, regardless of the strength of the longing. From there, nobody can take anything from you…