XAVIER VALLS<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Light of Paris<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paintings of 1962 to the latest and unpublished dated in 2006<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Next Thursday, April 12, at 19: 30 hours, will open the exhibition of Xavier Valls in the gallery Fern\u00e1ndez-Braso (Villanueva,30) with the recent oil paintings painted until a few months before his death, which took place in Barcelona in September 2006, where he was born in 1923. Paintings are absolutely unprecedented that can be seen for the first time in this exhibition. The latter works will be complemented with other that are initiated in 1962, and synthesize their long maturity stage pictorial.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The show is titled \u201cthe Light of Paris,\u201d because all the paintings are painted in the French capital. His study in Paris was as a refuge perched in front of the Seine. Xavier Valls was going on there from September to June of each year. A course in which he had just exhausted from work, concentration, delivery lonely, but always with the protective shadow of Luisa, his wife and life partner. Those nine months in Paris were essential in his life and in his work. Were devoted to painting, to his oils on canvas.<\/p>\n\n\n
The summer months spent in Horta, now a district of Barcelona. These three months accounted for the expansion, contact with family and friends. Were the communication with the earth, with the landscape itself. In the months of Horta also devoted time to his work. But there isn't painted in oil. Summers were for the watercolors. In a small room of your home developed their magical watercolors, which reflected the instant fugitive. To Valls watercolor was not at all minor piece, but is additional to its particular and exquisite artistic sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All the work of Xavier Valls has a poetry in secret, with a depth of serenity, with a sense of taste for the objects and the fruits of the earth. His paintings have their personal vibrations. It costs a lot to think that these palpitations have stopped, but still etched into canvases and papers. Looking at his paintings, taking pleasure in the beating of your hand, we can perceive the trembling light of the gestures and the words muted by the death over five years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n
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