León’s starting point is whatever others take for granted. A painter, who knows that he lives “out of time”, needs his hand to speak, like the figure in Ventriloquist of Herself (La Ventrílocua de sí misma), where a well-known children’s puppet may be delivering a speech, a story about something still to be revealed. Count von Count, the godfather of basic mathematics for a generation, keeps doing his sums, but looking at the composition for a while in silence, we realize that she is the one pulling the strings, with her mouth closed, in silence, possibly telling us a tale.
In silence again, the artist talks about having a child, the lineage of father and son, being fruit of an earth. Against a background that recalls the glorious breaking of light in the Sevillian baroque, León deals with the theme of fatherhood, and the title of the work is very clear—A Rib off the Old Block (De tal Palo tal Costilla)*—through which he winks at the masterpieces of one of the painters who are his guiding lights, the Goya of Fight with Cudgels (Duelo a garrotazos) and Saturn Devouring his Children (Saturno devorando a sus hijos).
* De tal palo tal costilla is a double pun on de tal palo tal astilla (“a chip off the old block”), where the astilla (chip) is substituted with costilla (rib), which further alludes to a popular Spanish name for the Monstera (Swiss cheese) plant, “costilla de Adán”, or “Adam’s rib”. See also the exhibition La Costilla de Santa Clara (Santa Clara’s Rib), centred on a huge Monstera that grew in an old convent of Santa Clara, whose leaves were the subjects of León’s paintings.
It could be said that Manuel León carries on fighting with what he loves most: the tradition of painting. As the lyrics of a seguiriya say: It’s rained tonight, there’s mud tomorrow.
As dessert, León leaves us with a canvas measuring almost seven square metres, a huge Venus, a Grand Tour that starts with Titian, goes by way of Velasquez, revisits Goya’s modernity, and finishes its journey with Manet’s Olympia, revealing a nude who intimidates us through her sheer dimensions but invites us with her gaze to contemplate, again in silence. In this work, entitled Vegetable Hypostasis (Hipóstasis vegetal), who or what is the main subject?—the leaves of Monstera, the woman, or the painting itself as gesture and expression? The artist invites us to look not with our eyes alone and thus, as a voyeur, to search out one of the possible meanings to a story that remains always open-ended.