He was born on December 19, 1956, in San Lorenzo Zulia, Venezuela. His works have been exhibited worldwide—notably in France, Caracas, Argentina, Iran, Chile, Germany, Croatia, Greece, Italy, and Slovenia—garnering great acclaim. I would define his art as an „art of restlessness,” where distinct symbols converge—ranging from motherhood and chaos to nature. His thought process is „plastic”—indeed, he has been described as a „plastic artist of thought”—and his works portray a humanity that is unsettling yet authentic. One is struck by the natural quality of his paintings, which also evoke the naïf style; echoes of Picasso can be found there as well. The work titled Il Giardino (The Garden)—an oil-on-canvas piece measuring 140 x 105 cm—made a particularly strong impression on me, even amidst its „artificial nighttime display, captured with a medium-format camera lens.” We are encountering a fresh artistic voice waiting to be fully discovered; in an era where social media distances us from real life, he embodies a memory that plants—and leaves—indelible roots. This stands in contrast to the frenetic, often hollow virtual world that brutally tears those roots away, attempting to transplant them into the darkness of solitude or the finality of a tombstone. For this artist, however, his soul and colors are not destined for oblivion; instead, they remain forever embedded—not merely within a frame, but in the gaze of the beholder, moved by such profound beauty. These are works that converse with memory, far removed from human skepticism and a robotic world of shadows—a world devoid of feeling and love, where such things are extinguished and forgotten. The works of Wilmer Lugo speak to us; they convey life, color, and dreams, and they invite reflection. The artist possesses a rich body of work that transforms into a living, speaking voice. Her paintings are thoughts akin to algorithms, yet poetically fashioned from gems of colorful, vibrant words—like the petals of a flower offered as a gift—where the eye wanders like the wind through tree branches in a surreal paradise; a realm where forms are words and colors, conveying music and poetry woven from the same harmony. I wish the artist great success and a long life, and I concur with our mutual friend Viktor Permiakov, who describes her works as immortal. To which I add: unmistakable!
Maria Teresa Liuzzo
© 2026, DetectivPress. Toate drepturile rezervate.
