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Sergio Suarez

  March 16 - April 20, 2024

Hawkins Headquarters is pleased to announce its fifth exhibition with an installation project from Sergio Suarez. This is Sergio's first exhibition with the gallery and is titled: Shrine.

Sergio Suárez (B.1995) is a Mexican-born, Atlanta-based visual artist and printmaker. He graduated from the Ernest G.
Welch School of Art and Design in 2021 with a B.F.A in Drawing Painting and Printmaking; and he attended Skowhegan
School of Painting and Sculpture in 2023. Suárez’s practice, prompted by an interest in translation, uses different traditions
of making, such as Mesoamerican material culture, baroque painting, and contemporary telescope imagery, to construct a
visual language concerned with syncretism, temporality, and the porosity between objects, images, and structures.

Shrine is a experimental installation. Using materials, symbols, and objects charged with personal and spiritual significance, the space is transformed into a chamber of reverence to time and fragility.


The work is influenced by past and present codes of visual representation such as baroque painting, Mesoamerican material culture, and telescope imagery. Synthesizing woodblock carving, painting, and ceramic installation, my practice constructs a visual language concerned with syncretism, porosity, and the influence that materiality has over notions of the
body and metaphysics.

I feel the warm flow of stone beneath me, it makes me levitate.
I’m weightless, sunlight has yet to see my face.
I wonder if it will remember my voice, discern noise from words.

A dim light shrouds me, encases me. I wear it like a skin. It keeps my insides liquid, in osmosis
with the elements that surround me.
I don’t know what today is, for time behaves differently here,
I am a being of many beings, I have names I can no longer remember. I wonder how much
longer it will take until I reach the summit.

Suddenly I feel gravity’s pull, it reminds me I have a weight and mass.
I feel no longer the pressure cradling my flow, my malleable body can’t move by itself so I
puddle into a basin taking its shape.
I feel a breeze cooling my breath and I start to slow down, my fingers stretch to crawl out of
this vessel but they’re brittle. They break easily.

I am a stone soaked in blood, an open wound.
I cry to the sun but I hear no answer as this sinks under the horizon.
At first I feel alone, fragmented and exposed, slowly my eyes focus on a distant glimmer, it
looks familiar, it reminds me of home.

The ants pick me up.

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