Sssssmoking

Narciso (Nacho) Montero is a hopeless romantic.  Although one is not likely to come to that conclusion when first encountering his art (or him, for that matter).  And since viewing art is all about first impressions, we are left with a myriad of emotions as we come away from one of his pieces, of which none can be described as romantic.  Instead we are cajoled, challenged, grabbed by the shirt collar, force fed, told to shut up, look and listen.  Nacho doesn't create pieces of exquisite beauty, nor does he desire to walk with you through the botanical gardens of this world.  Being a cuban immigrant and growing up in newark over the past thirty years doesn't allow him this luxury.  Quixotic in his purpose and gangster in his approach, he is instead a soldier in God's army, weilding his art agains a world gone mad.  And like Cervantes' anti-hero, he doesn't mind the challenge.  Somebody's got to do the lord's dirty work.

Who is going to challenge the hypocrisy of organized religion? Nacho will.  Who will stand up against the mythology of death? Nacho will.  Who will oppose the gluttonous nature of capitalism's power structure and then blame us (regular folk) as its implicit accomplice? Nacho will.  Like God before the flood, he is angry, but only because he loves us and cares so much.

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