José Ignacio Agorreta Beaumont (Pamplona, 2 September 1963) does not need a muleta of the word. In the exhibition held this summer in the Ciudadela of Pamplona, his works have no title, nor “without title”, nothing. The work in her nude is pretty shocking, suggestive. In the catalog there are also few texts, without pompous and epatant theories, and yet, or for that very reason, it goes as deeply as the stems of the world.

The words in the catalog are from Pello Lizarralde: "Everyone left and there's no one who thinks they can come back. Some are prevented from returning the obvious disasters, the walls and the fallen roofs; others are the powders, the ones that have embalmed those objects they left in their place of always.” Not in vain, Pello Lizarralde has chosen the works of Agorreta for the covers of his books.

The artist achieves something very difficult: to show through the painting the dust that has embalmed objects, houses and lives. Light itself is a fragility in the paintings, an atmosphere of destruction and abandonment that, with mastery, leads to the paintings. Fallen houses, abandoned, empty wardrobes, empty rooms, empty kitchens… Painting the objects that have been left shows the absence, what is missing, what has gone, what will not return.

Alberto Barandiaran mentioned in an article by Berria: “Agorreta has represented a silent life in these empty rooms: a normal morning; an atmosphere that has left an afternoon boring; a calm after nothing. You read in the canvases the nostalgia for what might happen, suggesting that our memory may be in the trace that time has left in the nearest things: on the worn wall, on the abandoned chair, on the torn curtain next to the window, on the pile of stones.”

Agorreta's works are pieces that awaken the viewer's memory.