D. Maiguashca

Deep-sea fish develop enormous eyes to detect the faintest light in darkness. D. Maiguashca’s figures seem to share that same urgency: outsized pupils searching for something beyond the frame, and exaggerated lips wavering between affection and the bite. The blue surrounding them recalls not the sky, but the antiseptic sterility of a waiting room, where desire and anxiety remain isolated. Painting does not correct their distortions; it pushes them to a threshold at which caricature ceases to feel like a joke and begins to resemble us a little too closely.