5 04 2010


Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo

1Flags, flags flags. 2Why photograph flags the most promiscuous cloth of any country? 3How to alter without destroying the meaning of any national emblem? 4 How to re-read the sacred symbol through a magnifying glass or lens refocusing from generation to degeneration? 5 How to appropriate its tired geometry; how to democratize its always demagogic speech? 6 How to recolor it like a child that doesn’t distinguish the sacred from the infernal? 7 How to tattoo a new rhetoric in our retinas? 8 How to create meaning in the absences of a belief in it? 9Flags, flags flags. 10And why not, and how not?

11Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo is the name and the price of this voracious vocation to fix the ephemeral. 12 The flags fly, the people go, Havana vaporizes (it goes up in smoke), Cuba is tired, the story is rag soaked in vinegar to erase the blackboard of pain. 13Un A cosmic circus, chaotic, that waves and cycles around its own tail perhaps only to start again: Orlandouroboros, ophidian by trade.

14 The years zero and two thousand are the date and the facade to try the most intense, instantaneous intestines from the island. 15El The sun scorches the skies of our city with H, rainbow of letters mute and mephitic: Hiroshimavana, mon amour. 16 The revolutions are promiscuous deliveries who abort their own source of resistance. 17 No one was listening but they all looked; they all hear, but no one will see. 18The bugle listens to the silence. 19Insipid and insulting weightlessness island, hot gas chamber, unfaithful lantern. 20Dulce Sweet delirium between delight and delinquency, triangulated star between baroque bars:: Sweet Home Alahavana.

21A Canon can become the last hope of salvation. 22Click, flash, click. 23Or in a shot without aiming squarely at the temple: halfahundred years of solitude, socialispo in the time of the collective. 24We are deceptive here. 25Flash, click, flash. 26A  Canon can turn us into uncivil suicides, agents provocateurs who mistranslates the saltless syllables of “The Cuban in the Photograph.” 27Tartamudos Stutterers who shiver naked on the diving board of a rotten pool, forgotten by our family who went swimming in the success of exile. 28Silly little things of the foolish notion of a nation. 29Memories of forgetfulness. 30Trabatongues, trababodies. 31The country like a lucid trap of light.

32Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo has multiplied the pixels of our vigilant paradise. 33Fingerpainting, zoosocial fresco. 34Each one of his photos pretends to be a risky guillotine. 35Men and women in public who seem to act without a great altarpiece. 36Children paternalized by an obsolete Edipo Rev. 37Materialistic marionettes, desperately poor manger of the proletariat. 38 Simulations, collage and pastiche, cut and paste, chrome or gazette paper, ridiculous stories recut in 2-D, art of the disaster: in the beginning there was not the Word only the Barbariem.

39 In the Cuban Penal Code this type of activity is discredited. 40La  The constitutions as accusatory canon Pandora’s box where all the hopes leaking at the bottom remains no vice but a vacuum. 41 The use of the flag as legal property. 42El Consensus as a sentence: the court of the platform and the podium to the gallows. 43 the beauty spontaneous heard by the aesthetic static of the State.

44Flags, flags, flags. 45The singsong rhyming of Poveda like a poisonous vulture on the versions of the truth. 46Diversions of rowing against, rebellious contract, subversion, underexposed. 47How to tolerate the nonsense of such a national piston. 48Embolism blurred at the expense of the individual. 49How to explore our little spent map? 50How to discolor it, like a child who does not distinguish the sacred form the infernal? 51How to get the measure of it, discredit it?  52How to believe in your nonsense of so much created with him. 53Flags, flags, flags. 54And why not; how not?

55Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo equally insists on the incisive, doesn’t stop to worship the debacle. 56 Portraits of the “Hanging gardens of Havanabilonia, kingdom in ruins of people hanging in a present without weight, but still in an imperative mode. 58Cubansummatum est! 59Relea…




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