Some Words
FIGURES IN FUGUE
a dialogue with matter and memory
NICOLÁS CAMINO
Painting is, at its core, an act of discovery. Each canvas is built not from certainty, but from openness to the unforeseen. Matter dictates the course: pigments, spread across the canvas as if they were ancient dust, reveal forms before intention fully defines them. The image does not impose itself from the outset; rather, it is found in the process, emerging from the accidental, from what filters through, from what resists.
In this series of works, painting unfolds in a language that is simultaneously tactile and evocative. There is no artifice or unnecessary adornment—only the presence of matter, with its raw texture, its profound relationship with the earth. Most of the paintings are constructed from pure pigments, with only a few brushstrokes of oil at key moments: the face of a pope, the gaze of a musician, the outline of a figure that, in its clarity, seems to condense the surrounding history. They are minimal strokes in an ocean of pigment, gestures that illuminate the composition without betraying its essential spirit.
The colors are not accidental. They are earth tones, ochres, deep shadows that evoke a landscape that is not only physical but also symbolic. Within them lies a personal geography, a Spain that unfolds in memory: the open countryside, the vastness of natural spaces, the light that is always a protagonist in the country's painting. It is not a literal representation of the landscape but a resonance of its essence, its temperature, its weight in the gaze.
Figures that float between time and history
If matter is the starting point, figures are the echo of a conversation that traverses centuries. Some of the characters appearing in these paintings are tributes—presences that have left their mark on art history or the artist’s sensibility. Paco de Lucía, with his guitar as an extension of his body, is not just a musician but a symbol—a heartbeat of Spanish culture that transcends time. Pope Innocent X, immortalized by Velázquez and later deformed by Bacon in his quest for the unfathomable, appears here as a figure that dialogues with both traditions, caught in the tension between solemnity and distortion.
Pope Innocent X – 198 x 147 cm
We live in a world perhaps somewhat disoriented, where haste and artifices raise a screen that prevents us from seeing. Everything is immediate, light, weightless. Yet, there are symbols that endure, even if covered or seemingly fading away. In the Christ painted with the “pentimenti” technique, the figure is hidden beneath a layer of color but never entirely disappears. The image, instead of being fixed definitively, remains latent, seeping through with time. It persists, like certain symbols that, despite everything, continue to claim their space in memory.
Christ – 240 x 2
Alongside these recognizable figures, there are others belonging to a more ambiguous world. In smaller works, the characters are tiny, diminutive compared to the vastness surrounding them. They do not come from history or collective memory but from a more uncertain space: apparitions that emerge during the process, images that surface as if waiting to be seen. Their technique responds to this fleeting nature: they first appear on the reverse of the canvas, only revealing themselves on the surface later, as if the painting were an act of excavation—a meeting with what was already there, hidden within the fabric.
These solitary figures inhabit open landscapes, spaces that have not been tamed, where nature imposes its presence. They are presences that do not settle fully, seeming on the verge of disappearing or blending into their environment. They are not rooted in the earth but in transit, in an intermediate point between the material and the ethereal. Their relationship with the world they inhabit is uncertain: they do not entirely belong, yet they are not absent. They are spectral presences, fragments of a story told not with words but with silences and voids.
In this passage between matter and the intangible, one of the most enigmatic figures is the man seen from behind, holding a shroud. It is not just any cloth but the Shroud of Turin, the linen that, according to tradition, wrapped Christ’s body.
The Shroud of Turin – 198 x 147 cm
In this painting, the shroud is not merely a physical object but a veil between two worlds—a membrane between presence and absence. The figure holding it does not show his face, as if his identity were irrelevant compared to the symbolic weight of the cloth in his hands. It is a gesture of offering or doubt, an image frozen in the moment where the human meets the sacred.
Art as discovery
In this painting, there is no rigid planning or predetermined destiny. The image is found along the way, in the contact between intention and accident. It is a process reminiscent of a musical jam session, where performers follow a rhythm or structure that guides them, but what unfolds is entirely spontaneous. These paintings contain an order, a logic underlying the color and composition, but within that framework, the work is guided by chance, by what emerges in the moment. There is no constant correction or attempt to control the image from the outset—only a surrender to improvisation within an intuitive scheme.
The figures inhabiting these paintings are not mere representations: they are vestiges, archetypes, presences resonating with art history and the culture of a country. Some emerge from tradition, others from imagination, but all share a common character: they are halfway between the tangible and the evanescent, between the weight of the earth and the weightlessness of the image.
One of the most powerful archetypes in this series is the female figure reinterpreting the Lady of Elche and the Lady of Baza. Two icons of Iberian culture that, although separated in origin, here merge into a single presence. The austerity of the Lady of Elche, with her impenetrable gaze, blends with the repose and serenity of the Lady of Baza, who appears seated, dignified as if belonging to an ancient yet still pulsating time. This fusion is not merely an archaeological reinterpretation but a way of connecting what we know and what we imagine about these figures—restoring a continuity that history fragmented. In this painting, they are not museum pieces but living presences, guardians of a memory that resists fading. And in her hand, the Lady of Baza holds a dove, a symbol of wealth and fertility in her time. The original sculpture once had one, but time has stripped it away. Here, the dove returns—an echo of what was, a reclaiming of the complete image. In this gesture, the painting not only reconstructs what was lost but reactivates its meaning, bringing it back to the present to remind us that symbols never entirely disappear—they wait to be rediscovered.
The Ladies of Elche and Baza – 197 x 137 cm
In this sense, these paintings are not merely visual compositions but territories where the old and the new, the concrete and the undefined, the present and the absent, coexist in fragile balance. Ultimately, they are a space of revelation, where matter and memory merge into a single vision.
Nicolas Camino – Madrid 2025