Far from limiting the imagination, the image can strengthen it and invent new realities.
García-Alix´s photographs generate infinite dreamlike spaces demarcated by the narrated story of the photographer himself. On the other hand, the text manages to give a sense of order to the artist´s abstract thought and hence organize his thoughts in a clearer way than images allow, with a nature that is more unruly as it is linked to moments lived. García-Alix looks for a unified narrative where the text serves as an axis from which a visual narrative is built.
The result is the personal quest that permanently surrounds the work of García-Alix, a powerful visual storyteller who manages to translate his images into words, constructing a new story to the rhythm of the pictures that appear in the video. The images are presented as short stories; the text, on the other hand, is the result of a final personal analysis then transformed into his own confession. The story of García-Alix comes from his own pictures, whether mental or represented, and from its relation to reality and “lived experience” in literature, images emerge. A passionate reader of historical novels and fiction, he personalizes the characters and stories he finds in books; the characters of Joseph Conrad and Louis Ferdinand Céline are somehow reflected in his work. The text, like photographs, develops the self-referential dimension of the photographer. Literature manages to extend the reflection into life, with the experiences, fears and desires that the images bring together.
García-Alix appropriates the two media, image and word, which complement and validate each other. The metaphor is the language that makes the combination of image and text. This device allows the photographer to integrate disparate elements in unrelated ways, creating a link between them. Language is, in short, the bridge that creates a new image.
Look at this man.
Immersed in his dismay he looks at himself.
There is a vibrant silence.
He’s the clown before the show. He knows that in a few moments the lights will go on and he’ll have to laugh.
He can’t. He dreams of his crime.
Crime buried in this nothingness, where fatigue rules over a thousand hours lost.
Crime visible on a timeout.
This is the stage.
A purgatory of words.
In them lives the light that I snatched from my days.
They redeem what my eyes saw.