I don’t ask myself “what to do” but “what can I do”.

Even as a young man, I had already taken the impulse to throw myself against the wall that separates art from life, and so I experienced the difficulty of overthrowing totalitarian systems. Shortly afterwards, I saw the wall separating the political systems come down. To build an imaginary it is necessary to tear down the wall. I get it all from art, from the images of art that live behind the wall. On the other hand, I get nothing out of what is said or written about art.

When the transparent clouds of history collide and come together, the sky is grey, the sea is grey, the olive leaves are grey. All that is primordial, like memory, is grey matter. The universe is lost from sight and life begins to be born. I have brought the sky down to earth and covered the floor of the gallery of the grey of memory with the metal lead, as conductive as the water of the sea, which is the dregs of life and memory.

On the skyline, I have written the names in neon. Names are beauty. Nothing is invented here, the names are inscribed in nature. I don’t invent anything. I just find. I translate the facts of men that I have found written in the nature of art and science: the frequencies of the waves in a lake, east face, west face, the time of the first bars of the opening of Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde; the diction when reading a verse found by Valery: “Voici dans l’eau ma chaise de lune et de rose” (Here in the water is my chair of moon and rose). The music of numbers enchants, like art, like poetry.

Art has replaced religion. The floor plan of the cathedral is here the floor plan of the gallery. The ground plan of the cathedral is here the ground plan of the gallery, the throne of God – nature – presides over it. The chair has been hanging from the ceiling, in the light blue laps of the gallery. Duchamp’s bottle holder, the most blasphemous act in the history of art, on the ceiling. God-Art sticks out his tongue and gives us the goodness of creation, this is art, this is religion, this is science, this is music…life. The cathedral is the piano nailed to the wall, the skeleton of the piano, the architect’s plan.

I am the architect God and the interior designer of Art.

The rest, what I like is the event, giving you love, making art an act of love.

Jordi Benito