Until recently, I wasn't in touch with Carlos for a very long time -- nearly two decades. But in the works displayed here I see some of the passionate political activist I knew so long ago. Look at "Fuegos" and you'll see a special hell. But there's a horse in the middle and it symbolises release. "Rancho" could be apocalyptic. Or it could be merely parched.
Here too are works filled with warmth and works that are just plain complex. I cannot tire of looking at "A". I feel a sense of comfort, of homeliness. For good reason it's next to the "Chamanica" series. Overlooking the couch these emote domestic safety in an already warm cafe setting. Opposite, Peter McLaren's bristling complexity is encapsulated in a small inner core, radiant. Nearby is a favourite: "Arco y Flecha". Fortuitously it faces "Chamanica" because to me this painting evokes a shamanic tone. There is a beauty of movement and wisdom in it I have not seen before. Proceed out of the main gallery and you’ll see "Fiesta", a welcome cake of lightness and colour in an exhibit overabundant in earthy reds and oranges.
I met Carlos Mora as a university student around 1990. Carlos was a graduate student about ten years my senior. His passion for Trotskyism alienated him to many but I enjoyed our discussions of Marxism and class conflict. I was president of the student government and with Carlos and many others we pushed through some meaningful reforms, such as changing how the university negotiates with its lowest-paid workforce, how the university invests its endowment, supported immigrant workers’ rights, etc.
Immediately upon graduation I set out on an overland Latin American journey. Inspired by Carlos' colourful memories of the labour movement in Argentina, my notional destination was Buenos Aires. There, I thought, I would be received by the leftist labour movement in Argentina. I traveled by foot and by hitch-hiking and by bus. I carried a list of contacts in major cities en route, furnished by Carlos, ostensibly party members and local support.
In Mexico City I could reach no-one and the only affordable hostel I could find was a brothel. You should have seen the maids laugh as they ushered this fresh-faced gringo out in the morning. Subsequently I ditched the "list of contacts" and made my way through Central America. I secured a Salvadoran visa and soon fell in with a family in Sonsonate. Before long I was in San Salvador, staying with students and visiting the countryside every weekend, sometimes meeting soldiers in the FMLN, the rebel side in the civil war. El Salvador had consumed all of my attentions. I stayed there just under three months and never even attempted South America.
After returning to the USA I met Carlos again in Los Angeles when he was working for his doctoral dissertation. Then I lost touch with Carlos for many years. A few years ago he re-surfaced. He found me via the internet. He explained that he'd become an artist, living in the countryside of Argentina. He related that he had had serious difficulties, perhaps related to a self-diagnosed bipolar condition that he managed to overcome.
Carlos as artist makes sense to me. Art is a perfect medium for expressing the mixture of social passion and complexity of the man. I am thrilled but unsurprised that he is gaining recognition, first in Argentina, now in North America. I encourage you to linger over this European debut and glimpse the spirit of my friend and his exciting new artwork.
--Scott Urban
