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Monday, May 27, 2024
There is neither in the composition nor in the execution no grant to the easy thing, to the sweet-toothed thing, to the floral representation with the premeditation of achieving an effect of amazing beauty, but to a sobriety of elements, an appraisement of the simply chromatic thing, which proves soprendente for the adjustment that was successful.

(...) We think before an artist, that she can be sorry and to execute. What looks like, said thus, one of the subterfuges with critical those who try to elude her sincere opinion. Here not tratra of it, but of assuring that the artist orensana does not mean only the exterior plastic arts of the pictures (as she is in the habit of happening often) but, under the inspiration of her sense, she leaves her pictorial art flows as a way of expressing what she feels. That is, definitively, what we must demand from every artist. And carmucha Vázquez Prats demonstrates that she it is.

Art Critic
I saw carmucha since I was a child from my window in the street of Muds Oak grove, we were neighboring and her house was opposite mine. One day, recollection, was dressing an exquisite and seraphic Snowy suit of The First Communion, was Quite white and Beautiful, with her black and brilliant impassive curls.

Were friends and it there supposed the inevitable photo of the first communion the united two. I preserve it not neither for the nostalgia nor for the murrain of this pink time. I preserve it because it is a fullly beautiful photo. It is a relic of postwar period, almost a miniprophecy.

She and me didn't know in this magic and white hot age of fantasies that our poetics were going to be the painting. And this way she was, we made to ourselves the two painters.

The hieroglyph in the labyrinth of the life, blew and took us for very different paths.

In the end of the decade of the sixties, when still Franc was living and the Beatles were singing, I found once Carmucha. She was in the gallery Toisón of Madrid. She was exposing landscapes. I liked them very much. She saw in this painting the whole aesthetics lyric and filled with captivations.

On having seen her pictures I believe that something similar happened to me to it from Marcel Proust in her " search of the lost time ". I reminded the dream, a portent of lived in an isolated time gilded in my Orense.

Later, I saw a few Carmucha's exhibitions. Her painting is for my, and continues being so luminous, simple and poetical as that snowy suit that she was taking that day and that I, rigorously, was observing with my infantile spirit nabbed in my window - observatory of Muds oak grove 6.

The rest I leave it for specializing critique. Congratulations Carmucha.

(...) She style intensely personal, in that the feminine abilities of intuition and tenderness alían perfectly with an exquisite chromatic sense and with vigor of the drawing and of the composition, ability the latter that the critique made highlight in her previous exhibitions.

But maybe the most typical thing or, maybe, if it is wanted, as a constant in many Galician pure artists, is the sensation of volume that dominates in her painting, in this case, achieved principally in favor to the employment of the spatula, and, simultaneously, an erfecta cosmic merger between the vegetable life, that she fills the bottoms impregnated with depth and mystery, and the humanity, who re-embroidered of life and tenderness, is there immersed. For her vital tone, she remains defined as a painting rather euphoric.

The director of the Archaeological Museum of Ourense
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