Olmedo takes us on an excursion into nocturnal depths, all sinking ground and howling wind, another and deeper circle of his hell. More complex and psychological, colors go beyond the usual significations of familiar shades and hues to express secret and mysterious correspondences. The face, emerging from within, multiplies itself on a series of variations.
Is it the self unfolding by degrees to one’s alarm, or are they states of feeling analyzed into nuanced and shades? Olmedo does not go by external appearances, he uses various means, such as distortion and transparency, to entrap fierce and elusive demons of the private psyche. Imploding, he suggests, rather than exploding outwards, describes his art in which movement goes inward, stumbling through the perilous darkness into an inner universe where bodies glow from within.