Under the small lens of a microscope, the largest human organ becomes vast and terrifying. Barely noticeable features of the skin become outsized: wrinkles are mountainous, tiny puncture wounds look like caves, and scaly patches look like the leaves of prehistoric flora. An unsuspecting viewer could be forgiven for assuming that the palm of a hand or part of a cheek were landscapes.
In the oil paintings of Alejandra Moros, this is exactly what happens. The artist often renders his subjects in such close-up that their scale and contours become deliberately, surreally indeterminate: are these decussated patterns the wrinkles of a finger? Is it the whorl of an ear or the inside of a shell? In a photo, a dissatisfied mosquito, but on what or on whom did it land? “Tip of the Tongue, Bridge of the Nose”, the title of Moros’ exhibition at Spinello Projects, refers to the people and everyday objects she paints, but they are completely transformed. Her hyper-realistic canvases are based on photographs of herself and various intimates, as seen in a photo of a fingernail caressing the pearl of a necklace (From the topall works 2023), or a few strands of hair coming through one ear (bone to pick). Indeed, her subjects are unknown to us, but the care with which she renders them is evident and palpable.
In these works, Moros uses a fairly monochromatic palette of blues, greens, grays and a sunset pink, then smooths his surfaces with a dry brush. The effect produces a soft haze: Similar to that moment when you close your eyes before leaning in to kiss them, when you become so close to someone that the boundaries between your bodies become eerily and beautifully indistinct. People are often mysterious, even the ones we care about the most. But, as Moros undeniably says, the deep affections that bind us to others, even in the smallest moments, can seem as big as the world.
