MATIAN, 1953 Luis Pardo
The artist has understood perfectly that the sea, often, is a mirror of ourselves.
Luis Pardo, who dominates the exact brushstroke, knows that the sea is endless wealth of movement and color.
THE SEA DREAM OF LUIS PARDO
by Josep M. Cadena
Luis Pardo (Matiana, Granada, 1953) is an Andalusian by birth and an adopted Valencian. The light has always accompanied him, and he, in his vital journey, like the rivers that come to the world and borbollegen for the first time in the Sierra Nevada, has gone in search of the sea. Now, in the Rusiñol room of Sant Cugat, he exhibits, under the title Dreams of the Sea, some paintings that attest to the happy pictorial encounter between the luminosity of the ancient Al-Andalus and the waters that make up the Mare Nostrum.
The artist has understood perfectly that the sea, often, is a mirror of ourselves. And so, we contemplate liquid surfaces in a state of stillness, that remember the moments when everything works within us and we are at peace with the environment, or stormy scenes, in which agitation and unleashed violence prevail. The sun star, in the form of a great eye, is the undaunted protagonist of these mood swings in which the waves pass easily with gentle caresses that cradles furious lashes that punish.
At the same time, the sea is a territory colonized by man. The fishing boats are willing to challenge the most adverse weather conditions in exchange for taking away the rich treasure of marine fauna. Racing sailboats, designed for speed, use the watery element for their competitive races. The recreational yachts circulate along the liquid highway and stop at the coves difficult to access by land. The breakwaters and the dykes enter the water to double their strength.
Luis Pardo, who dominates the exact brushstroke, knows that the sea is endless wealth of movement and color. Joan Maragall was also aware when he said: Today the sea has twenty-eight colors, / and everything is curved, the sky and the water: / the sky, bright and blue; the wind, furious, / there is scotch the clouds and chases them. / It makes flags and whites fly, / it twists and sprays the trees with great viciousness: / all are shouts and noise and brightness, / with a touch and a wiggle that scares. The poet praised the unlimited marine beauty in his verses, and the painter does it in his canvases, which I strongly recommend.
