Vessels
In the studio, and in a storage room, the sculptures stand like a group of beings huddled together, waiting. When Eva Fàbregas opens the door and turns on the light, I see them on the floor and half expect them to speak to me. Their biomorphic forms give off a strong sexual tone. They provoke me with their shameless play of deceptively hard-but-soft surfaces, of pointed limbs and round, brightly coloured limbs, so similar to gonads. They overwhelm with their erotic potential, of fluids and desire. They seem very explicit, so that I am immediately suspicious of their manifest frankness, of their total intelligibility. What else is hidden in the amusing and colourful sculptures that the artist presents in "Vessels"?