To Beth Moysés, delving into the nature of estrangement, of abuse, of domestic violence, of the loss of confidence in oneself and in others — which surface as the ineradicable mark of an official record sanctioned by the parties — seems to be the fictional strategy of her intervention in different realities Auscultame (Auscultate me) uncovers, in a surviving body thatharbors every pain in the world, the stark evidence of the self’s exposure. The act of listening, in between every word, denotes a hazy gap that conceals the conscious dimension of a gesture that wavers between hopelessness and love. Almas prematuras (Premature Souls), the suspended incubator where pain is exposed, unveils the unconscious pain caused by all the presumed losses that are bound to occur throughout life and death. The mechanical device — the incubator, or the actual storeroom of all the sequels and absolute absences projected into the domestic arena — , as if incorporated by the shadow of all premature hearts, rewrites life in an atypical environment, immersed in a continuous now. The dignity of Beth Moysés’ visual poetry withstands the obliteration of painful scars, when conveyed by testimonies of women about the clashes and the paroxysm of everyday life. Out of this dense conception — of a gender violence that indulges in the stratagem of reconstructing physical and psychological bodies, processed by estrangement — arises the testimony of a personal and candid commitment that the artist reaffirms in every document-project. The personal testimony – a subjective account like the very experience of a live tragedy — displayed in fragments, ripped open with needle and red thread and inserted into white chambray confronts the conflicting instances of projects interrupted by the reality of muzzled lives. Thus emerges the diagram of Cómo cambiar el amor (How to change love). Corazón tejido (Stitched heart), an organ incarnated in muscle and arteries, illustrates the rhythmic process of the entire blood flow, adrift in consciousness and pain. Discolored, confronted by the needlework support that holds it and endures its pains, the heart reconciles the end of its empty reality through meaning and care while concealing another compelling reality, which comes forth as the real perpetrator of domestic tragedies: resistance muted by daily confrontations. Corazón tejido (Stitched Heart) ascertains the circular motion of the entire act — deprived of meaning or shored up by feeling — which eventually redeems every bitter gesture of our relationships and reactivates the negotiated confidence between affection and disaffection.
Claudia Fazzolari