The Drawers - Erik Jerezano Commentary written by Julie Oakes
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Ethnic Convergence Erik's world is becoming freakier and more specific. The general permutations between species and the spirits are in sharper focus and despite the violent acts depicted, the fog is clearing so that the spaces between digits become intense. The demarcations of purposeful mixing and morphing are not left to interpretation but documented with an attention to detail, as if experimental visual notes were taken on an unusual evening when the beings that wander the earth decided to go crazy on each other. This should be disturbing, but the privileged point of voyeurism, the witnessing of dubious acts, leave the viewer with no part in the affair other than the satisfaction of a rather morbid curiosity. This misplaced interaction between beasts - and also between man and animals - provides little provocation no reason to react with cries of repulsion. The excellent drawing softens the subject, as does the great distance from which these stories are reviewed. With the expansive white pristine space suggesting a far-away viewpoint and the flat handling of the scenarios, exploration of outrageous performances between natural beings is made possible. There is nothing to support a cry of protestation, for the distance between reality and Erik Jerezano's world is too far apart. Therefore, he can twist and turn his characters; put them into wicked relationships with each other and it all comes back to invention. Looking carefully, and his line invites the careful inspection as does the clouded areas, and a revelation occurs there are grotesque and strange things happening and Jerezano knows how to draw! There is a moment on one of the virginal pages when a bird's head becomes a horse's and the nose of the horse is a small furry mammal and each is outlined along a silhouette with a minimal treatment of the features they are perfect throughout, and it becomes easy to wax on for Erik, himself, is visually saying something that is thoroughly interesting. Copyright © 2007, Julie Oakes |