Juanjo Fuentes was born in Málaga. In the eighties he was a collaborator in the collective “Agustín Parejo School”, a group of artists-activists that carried out their works in many formats (photocopies, bills, postcards, video, tags…) I remember from those years the graffiti POEZIA in the old Facultad de Letras de Málaga in San Agustín Street. The group dissolved in the first years of the nineties, after their last project, «Sin Larios». Juanjo is an editor and a great collector that has happily resumed his artistic activity.]
[…] In his work, that plays with various scales, we can find from natural size cups to a sandwich, fruit, sausages and vegetables. Porcelain… and all this sprinkled with diverse miniatures.
But Juanjo’s game —like for example in the tale of the incarcerated painter that paints on the wall a landscape with a train that enters a tunnel and through that world the painter disappears from his cell.— is in the details, in the miniatures. A world that opens up to us, so deep it needs our full attention to imagine that what is happening. Definitely, an astronomer that looks at the stars through a telescope and a biologist that looks at cells through a microscope see the same thing. Juanjo places us in a situation off apparent control about these small tales. We just have to see and imagine why the carnivores with their meat suits and the vegans in their nudity in the landscape enclosed in spherical urns go hand to hand.
[…] If more people looked at the world like Juanjo we would be rid of many stupidities and heartburns.
Juanjo builds small landscapes in cheese dishes, inverted cups or bell jars. In them a vegetable or fruit -always made of plastic or fabric- acts as a totem to compose a scene full of tiny characters, model dolls, that star in amusing, absurd or normally erotic situations. In other pieces the lettuces, onions or cucumbers are not the protagonists, but sausages and the meat world. Bibelós -Lladró porcelain figures or similar- also abound, intervened and transformed from their original tawdriness to become ambassadors binge, mockery and sausage. […]
In the face of this, Juanjo laughs, rests importance, adds plastic, and tries to make you laugh: about so much idiocy, so much ridicule, so much intolerance, so many unmovable stances and so much silly solemnity. And then he laughs in stereo, like only he knows to, puts the face of the Joker on a Lladró clown and now you don’t know if if he’s messing with you or hugging you.