Have you ever thought that art could talk about you? That you could carry it with you like music or the book you’re reading? Have you ever thought of the things you could have in common with an artist?
Meeting Borondo has triggered a series of questions in my head. The first thing I noticed is the simplicity and kindness of his smile. You’d imagine a big guy wearing sunglasses and his hat backwards. He does, in fact, have a tank top and the body for it, but the head of a shy and sensitive boy, almost a man.
Curious, I became very curious.
Then I saw his street work, close to the Church of St. Paul in Rome. What do beautiful naked women who seem to have come out of a painting have to do with a street artist? I don’t see sprays around, just paint and long brushes. Borondo really paints, paints on the wall like on a canvas. And he paints as if on the pages of a diary: the diary of the Association of Homosexual Culture Mario Mieli. Does a club like this exist? You never heard of it? Well yes, it does exist and it belongs to all of us. And Borondo has brought out its inner image, made of men and women, of showing off and hiding.
And he almost hides behind a sheet, in what I suspect to be a self-portrait.
Yes, because I forgot to tell you that Borondo has an obsession, a question that haunts him and accompanies his agitation: to disappear or to be present? A constant temptation. Has it happened to you too? To me too, more than once. It’s the feeling of freedom, but who knows if it’s true.
It can’t be simple to paint such big figures, you must be wondering. No, it isn’t. And Borondo succeeds by building a knot of red lines, going back on the details over and over like the makeup artist of a group of posing giants. You see the colors? They’re the right ones, no doubt. The colors of the walls, of the ground, the air of Rome so rich of history. Like the right blush for the skin tone. No fuchsia lipstick, it’s not for Borondo. No fluorescent color spray.
I find it beautiful this way. And you?