Is trembling at San Agustín

By Rafael Coronel

A Pantagruelian feast, a blend of sensuality and lack of respect; figures that move to the rhythm of unsophisticated music. The saxophone (metallic serpent) sounds out of tune and is smeared onto his canvases to show us how the skin conceals unhappiness and ugly beauty. Jazzamoart – insatiable glutton, violent, crude and tender. Libertine freedom, the symbol consecrated to degrade the degraded – yellows, reds, blues and blacks, the house painter that makes us shudder. The great great grandson of Zacatecans, Guanajuatense by birth – who doubts his amazing drawing ability? Colorist, smear maker, he transcends the most tremendous with his indisputable talent for composition. Every piece peels back the day to day to let us see human beings how they really are. In Guanajuato, life is worthless; in Zacatecas, it is invaluable. Jazzamoart shows us this.

P.S. Your lustful masks are infectious.