Boiler Room. Todo lo que pasa. Carlos Correcher
Todo lo que pasa. Carlos Correcher, 2022. General view
Todo lo que pasa. Carlos Correcher, 2022. General view
Botas, 2022. Óleo sobre tabla. 81 x 65 cm
Todo lo que pasa. Carlos Correcher, 2022. General view
Todo lo que pasa. Carlos Correcher, 2022. General view
Todo lo que pasa. Carlos Correcher, 2022. General view
Cerámica, 2022. Oil on board. 150 x 100 cm
Todo lo que pasa. Carlos Correcher, 2022. General view
Press release
Luis Adelantado is pleased to present Todo lo que pasa (Everything that Happens), a show conceived by Carlos Correcher for our Boiler Room. The artist from Valencia — who already showed at the gallery in our CALL XVIII in 2016— is back again, this time with a more mature specific project in which he presents a suite of paintings made over the last three years that speak of his day-to-day life.
“Following two years without painting, I get up early, tired. I don’t feel like painting. It’s six in the morning. My partner is still sleeping and I’m on the bus on my way to work. I do my job. I leave work and have lunch. I go to the studio and paint. I return home, my painting done. We have supper, chat and go to bed. I think.
I haven’t done anything really good but I don’t pretend otherwise. I won’t be able tomorrow either because I will have worked beforehand and the same thing will happen. I won’t be able to give it all I’ve got because I
will already have given a part before I even start. There is a mid-point between what could be considered extraordinary and what is bad. Between not thinking and turning things over and over. Something half baked, that doesn’t have everything. We go to great lengths to disguise it because we know it doesn’t make the grade. Exceptional, meaningful, excellent, important. I accept doing things by halves. I make a whole out of them. I half despise each thing I do but I love them all. I sleep. I get up and I think. I don’t feel like painting.
will already have given a part before I even start. There is a mid-point between what could be considered extraordinary and what is bad. Between not thinking and turning things over and over. Something half baked, that doesn’t have everything. We go to great lengths to disguise it because we know it doesn’t make the grade. Exceptional, meaningful, excellent, important. I accept doing things by halves. I make a whole out of them. I half despise each thing I do but I love them all. I sleep. I get up and I think. I don’t feel like painting.
After work I am physically and mentally exhausted. After work, painting is a kind of luxury. Painting is very mental and a thing of firm convictions. It is steadfast, radical. This reflexive part is intrigued by the carelessness and the obvious fact of minimal effort. It fascinates you because you know that in it there is a clarity of sorts. It is like opening a space of reflection and translation where you can rethink everything. It’s a luxury, but a necessary one. It is minimal effort but one of commitment and maximum work.
Smudged grey stains and arbitrarily controlled black lines. Something apparently cryptic that shows everything that happens while I’m not painting.”
—Carlos Correcher
