Tribute to a painting 

Quality check - 2017, oil on canvas, 117x90 cm
Quality check – 2017, oil on canvas, 117×90 cm

Hola Marco,

about 2 weeks ago I was lying in the chair at the dentist and I remembered your painting.

I like to write now and then, about my own work or somebody else’s work.

This because I think that besides making art, you have to practice to write about it as well. So that you can give words to what you make.

So after the dentists visit I started to write a kind of tribute to your painting.

greets,
Carien 

On Wednesday, the 1st of February 2017, I suddenly found myself in the studio of Marco Noris.

Three months I had circled around it but now I had the temerity to ignore the stop sign on the door and there I stood, in the middle of his studio. With headphones on his ears and in his blue overalls, he was busy painting. I had to shout to the top of my lungs before he noticed me.

 The last paintings I had seen of him were the ones in his exhibition in Vic.

At this moment I saw, I guess, actually some of the fascinations of Noris from within. As if the subjects on the paintings were more personal, with more inner motivations.

 We talked a little longer about a certain painting:

At first you see a far gaping mouth with in this mouth on the right a dental mirror and on the left such a nasty dentist hook. Above this mouth in a greyish field only a pair of eyes.

Marco himself was proud of how he had painted the reflection of the teeth and gums in the little mirror. And he succeeded indeed but for me the contrast between the manner of painting at the top, parsimonious and thin, and the lower part of the painting, greasy and sculptural, was the most fascinating. The different way of painting lead to a different way in appearance of the mouth and the eyes.

 The gaping mouth with a greasy lower- and upper lip in a slightly unusual and filthy color, you see teeth and gums but also the area under your tongue is visible. As you do not often see it yourself but which you recognise irrevocable. A bit of an undefined area, very sculptural painted. The teeth don’t stand perfectly straight and are not glossy white but contain a bit of yellow.

But then, those eyes above the mouth, full of horror and fear, they express almost agony. No more than a few brushstrokes but very well hit and close to what reality might be.

With the mouth you can identify but the eyes, those are of another person. You know how you look like at the dentist’s chair, with your mouth in a spasm but you do not know what your eye’s express.

 The banality of the subject gives the painting a kind of humour, sour maybe, but still.

It has something existential, something alienating and also is a little repellent, but just on the edge. Where there is this balance between attraction and repulsive, between fascination and abomination and you don’t know yet how it will effect you.

 Looking at this painting starts with fun because you start with an open mind and you see the pleasure Noris has in painting. But then happens whatever happens when you sit in the chair at the dentist.

At first you feel comfortable he is just drilling a little.

But in the meantime the assistent doesn’t pay attention and your mouth slowly fills with drilling water and after a while you start thinking, soon I will suffocate….

 Carien Vugts 

 

Insonnia

Nell’oscurità, riflessi di luce prendono forma, ombre di luce nel negativo del giorno. Finalmente si rompe l’insonne solitudine, appaiono maschere grottesche ridendo sguaiatamente, pastori silenziosi brancolando nel buio e con loro guide senza guida, un albero senza Natale, cinque dieci cento dita medie senza mezze misure. Tutto ciò a cui non ho pensato durante il giorno inizia a gridare assordante, una chiassosa comitiva di questioni posticipate si affaccia chiedendo attenzione. Provo a quietar la moltitudine con pensieri gradevoli, moti d’ottimismo, limpidi propositi e facili promesse.

Ladri! Fetidi ladri o voi che con il mio sonno fuggite, saltando pecore e schivando ciechi pastori ondeggianti nel buio. Dove fuggite o ladri, forse laggiù, dietro la collina dei sogni dimenticati, laddove giace il tempo perso? O forse è una corsa verso il nulla, un correre infinito, un eterno guardie e ladri con l’unico scopo di sfinire l’inseguitore? Che sia quindi, che inseguendo il sogno possa estenuato stramazzare al suolo (io da sempre un estenuato stramazzare) e trovare finalmente la stanca quiete del sonno.

ma_no, 2008

Giro in giro

I

Avanti, confusamente avanti. A tentativi e a tentoni, saltando ostacoli inciampando cadendo e rialzandomi o forse no, razzolando al suolo, mangiando terra e guardando il cielo.

II

In circolo, in recinto, in una stanza a volte buia e a volte illuminata da prossime luminescenze o da bagliori remoti.

Ora giro in giro, giro in circolo, costruisco e giro in circolo, tra pareti di cemento giro in giro.
A volte un bagliore, una luce riflessa, chissà un segno di vita, di vitalità, di un sentire o di una esistenza. Forse un pertugio o forse no, solo un luccichio d’umidità, una lento filtrare d’acqua.
Continuo a girar in giro. Ad ogni circonferenza la stanza è più piccola e girando in giro sempre più rapido sempre più stretto mi chiedo cosa sarà mai di me una volta al centro di una stanza che non più stanza è. Ormai immobile, ormai cieco e inerme, spero nel momento in cui imprigionato dalla ragione potrò finalmente innalzarmi libero, sospinto dalla follia più in là di questo recinto, più in là delle sue pareti di cemento, più in là del suo stesso isolamento.

(Barcelona, 2008)