In the contemporary art world, the eye (and the soul) get frustratingly used to contrivances, pretense on the part of the artist and/or curator that what you are seeing is so utterly unique that you just have to take it seriously, value the thing and—of course, bottom line—buy it. But somewhere in the descent toward the kind of despair that makes you wish the entire art edifice would self-combust, inevitably something comes into sight, just at the edge of view, which smacks you in the face and makes you take notice, look out again, and see the world as though for the first time.
This—undoubtedly and emphatically—is the work of Yvette Mayorga.
