Conjuring forms that speak of history’s follies
This week we welcome Edisson González, a painter and draftsman from Medellín, Colombia. His practice is characterized by the construction of dreamlike atmospheres and liminal spaces, in which the body and territory emerge as sites of transition, mourning and contemplation. These images offer a poetic and critical reading of human experience, establishing connections between the intimate and the collective. His work is currently on view through December 28 at the LIC-A Art Space at 30-30 47th Ave. in Long Island City.
González studied fine arts at the University of Antioquia in Colombia. There he began developing an artistic practice focused on painting and drawing that he has also articulated through teaching and visual research. His work is grounded in a sustained reflection on the human figure and landscape as symbolic devices through which to address the human condition, memory and spirituality.
His most recent series, “Camposanto, Windows to Eternity,” is conceived as a memorial project dedicated to the victims of armed conflict. Through this body of work, González addresses themes of absence, loss and resilience, positioning art as a space of symbolic resistance and as a means for the preservation of historical memory in the pursuit of non-repetition. In his recent work, the artist incorporates smoke, soot and combustion as both material and visual language, integrating these processes as narrative and conceptual elements that evoke trace, disappearance and the fragility of the image.
Edisson shares: “My work is a ritual where chance and intuition intertwine. I employ oil painting and fumage — a Surrealist technique that fixes smoke traces on canvas or paper — as acts of visual divination. In this process, smoke trails reveal unpredictable forms between light and shadow: silhouettes suggesting bodies, fabrics, and landscapes. Upon these foundations, I intervene with brushes, pens and other tools that uncover traces — metaphors for memory emerging from oblivion’s darkness — transforming chaos into figures that interrogate grief, uncertainty, displacement and normalized violence. Here, the sinister and light don’t oppose each other: they coexist, as in life itself. My themes emerge from personal and collective experiences rooted in Colombia: death, disappearances and forced displacement. I particularly draw upon accounts from friends and family about the armed conflict in Medellín’s Comuna 13 (1980-2003) and other defining national events. Through a symbolic-dreamlike approach, fumage captures the ephemeral — mists obscuring faces, shadows of absent bodies — while oil and brush reconstruct this chaos into symbols: bouquets blooming from torsos, draped fabrics becoming shrouds, distorted figures clinging to earth.
I seek no answers, only to etch questions into matter: How do we draw the memory of those no longer here? What blossoms where fear fractures? My works are windows into stories that withstand time, where the mundane — a flower, a dress, a landscape — becomes an enigma. Ambiguity is essential: there’s no single interpretation. I invite viewers to project their own experiences onto these images. A face hidden among flowers could be a disappeared loved one or a stranger; a field scarred by smoke might represent exile or quest. Figuration here offers no comfort: it unsettles. I work with darkness not to dwell in it, but to find — within the shadows — glimmers of resistance, survival or unexpected beauty.
See more of Edisson’s work on his Instagram.
