JULIO VALDEZ QUESTIONS THE END OF THE CENTURY

There is a curious paradox in art criticism. As long as an artist is alive, and particularly if he is young, it is considered objectionable to point out aspects of his work that might be related to his personal life. A psychological approach to the work is barely tolerated as a concession. Nevertheless, the moment an artist is deceased, we observe that studies take into account biographical sources in order to clarify the author's interpretation.

However, it is worth noting certain personal traits of an artist in his prime, not only for research, but also to place the work in an existential context. Those who know Julio Valdez personally appreciate his forthrightness and stability. We know that he has equally profound feelings for his family -- his newborn son being the best symbol of creativity -- and his paintings, drawings and installations. There is also no doubt that his inner balance influences his work and is reflected in it.

In fact, Julio Valdez himself is at the core of his work through the reiterated physical presence of his self-portraits. The question André Breton posed to Alberto Giacometti can't help but be evoked: "Heads? What for? Everybody knows how to do that." The famous artist responded, "I want to try it myself." We could ask the Dominican artist a similar question, when the frequency of his self-portraits, an almost trite recourse, surprises us. And he could also answer that he would like to try it himself, because self-representation may be an uncharted territory for him; but beyond that, beyond the question of accurate likeness, past any sort of narcissism, the painting-as-mirror may be seen as a vision of the world.

Julio Valdez is mainly interested in form. Whether in a painting or in a drawing, he designs faces and busts, vertical bodies, fully frontal or in profile, sometimes including legs. Even through any modality may show up at any moment, we have observed the tendency to introduce progressively more complete anatomical images. At the same time, the contrary is also true. A hand may be loaded with total introspective meaning. The silhouette, which used to be very prominent, is now substituted by a different symbol, or becomes diluted in its surroundings until it vanishes. The anthropomorphic silhouette, indispensable in his work for so many years, is not even present in some recent works; nevertheless, the impact of its intervention is still felt.

In these self-portraits, a resemblance to the model is not required. Julio Valdez is obviously not trying to paint himself due to a fixation with himself and his ego, as was the case with Pablo Picasso and Francis Bacon. He does not want (re)cognition or identification from us through an unmistakable likeness. Our reading is meant to be much more open. The viewer is given the freedom of conceptual participation.

From the titles of the works, we know they deal with self-portraiture. Nevertheless, the lack of features and the immobile postures take any descriptive or otherwise personal quality away from these effigies. Their corporeality could refer to other characters endowed with similar proportions. That is why we speak of form; be it opaque, transparent, illuminated, stamped or perforated. Repetition is avoided.

In fact, the figure, given center-stage, goes beyond individual representation, reaching metaphorical and allegorical status. We see how, in a metaphysical sense, the human figure is at the center of the universe. It is a starting point for our own exploration of the visual and existential field that surrounds us, and that somehow determines our destiny. Julio Valdez proposes an evaluation of the human condition in time and space.

The artist gives us the key with the titles "End of the Century / End of an Era," "Touching Bottom / Immersed in the World." We note our placement in nature and history. The work guides our perception quite successfully, from both an optical and sensorial point of view. At the same time, it leads us on a conceptual and intellectual path. The multiple layers of lightness and darkness, foster an ambiguous luminosity that encourages existential meditation. A compelling magical atmosphere, particutarly rich in certain works ("Quihíca" or "Testamento," ) conveys how the world weighs on us.

The artist has an implicit understanding of how, when we feel stuck at a critical juncture, we need purification, fresh air, vegetation, and fauna. When we are represented as caged victims of the end of a millennium, his chromatic values descend to gloomy shades. Meanwhile, in another image, he manages to "give a rose" and is enraptured with nature, fleeing from despair and returning to serenity. Nothing is lost forever when a rose blossoms out of a heart and a window of light projects noontime upon the darkness of night. It is evident, that as different signs and symbols are fused, a sort of landscape that is both internal and external gives universality to individual sensations, while self-portraits are elevated to represent the whole of humanity.

On one hand, those who would interpret the images in these portraits as hagiography are not mistaken. Because of its spatial placement, the human figure is made sacred. It is always right at the center, eventually becoming a painting within a painting, thanks to an insistent border, an outlined frame or a change in tonality. Here is mankind as reality and myth, occupying the primal place in the universe. Later on, hands are inserted as warning signs, a "powerful hand" or a palm stigmatized with a lesion. This brings us back to religious implications and the notion of sacrifice. Without a doubt, this element deserves utmost attention.

As stated previously, the self-portraits become universal, a statement about the human condition. However, there is another possible reading, and that is when the question of geography is raised.

Julio Valdez, who is an "absent Dominican," a term for Dominican citizens living abroad, still longs lovingly for his country, his island, his archipelago. He belongs to Quisqueya and the Caribbean. The proof is in his representation of the man/island, that sometimes takes the place of self-portraits in the form of a map of the Dominican Republic and Haiti or the whole Caribbean. His roots are there, his dreams take him there; the two are joined in the title exhibit: "Roots of Dreams." The lizard is an archetypal pet reptile, a survivor from prehistory and one of his favorite symbols. A constellation of lizards covers a wall of the main installation, which shares the name of the whole exhibit.

Julio Valdez presents works on canvas and paper, where line and color cannot be separated from each other, since they have an equal intensity and are given almost equal treatment. The differences are in the materials and the mounting. In addition, without neglecting painting per se, he jumps into the medium of installation, which allows him to express himself in three dimensions. He works with humble, ritualistic and symbolic materials: earth, votive candles, cut-up planks of wood, paint. He uses the floor and the walls. He modulates forms and dimensions in relation to the site.

The lines drawn in these environments are brimming with philosophy. The labyrinth protects the island from aggression. The circle surrounds the man/island, the resuscitated ancestor. These settings and their surroundings become mandalas in figures and expressions of supreme harmony. They encourage contemplation, reflection and seclusion. The sacred element imposes itself again. The work of Julio Valdez is neither geometric nor constructivist. Geometric patterns and internal structures, multiple panels and frame within a frame are only basic elements employed to contain, underline, clarify, or conceal the different functions of the symbols. Among recognizable graphic elements, others that preserve a certain mystery can be found, like Taino iconography that has not been totally deciphered yet.

Julio Valdez, artist of radiant youth and surprising maturity, goes from success to success, gathering prizes and awards, and is courted by museums, galleries and prestigious collectors. He maintains a steady fervor for work, the same passionate quest, the same professional conscientiousness. One cannot separate his personality from his work. Man/island, root of dreams, he continues to be faithful to his origins. The Museo de las Casas Reales, a historical landmark, is a fitting place for his exhibit, as both a museum and a show represent a fusion of collective memory and contemporary individuality.

Marianne de Tolentino
President of the Dominican Association of Art Critics