THIS IS NOT FINE DINING
RIFF RESTAURANT
Valencia
These paintings, for sale, are part of the exhibition dedicated to the RIFF Restaurant in Valencia.
All of them will remain at the exhibition venue until June 30, 2025.Any purchase implies the collection of the works from that date,
allowing for payment in installments if necessary.
Contact me for more information.
HERE
sinse.gallery@pm.me
SOLD
1.3m x 1.4m
The steps taken with the strictest care were crucial,
how to find the truffle without lifting too much earth?
The smell intoxicated me,
its deck of cards smelled of fresh lemon.
PRICE 2820€
1.6m x 1.5m
“The stroke marks a moment, time hides its trace; I stayed under the rain for a week, spasms woke me up.”
“Thirst for Salt” is a painting on fine canvas that embraces the transparency of the frame, telling the story of the stain it was, a story that recalls those war marks that, although they were cleaned from the wall, remain in the memory of the one who was a witness.
A longing, a tear, a source of a memory.
“Exact Uncertainty”
PRICE 3930€
2m x 1.4m
When I saw her being born, her cry moved me, goose neck and wicker skin; when she stood on her legs, the ground collapsed, and what seemed stable withered, her step traced our skin and from there uncertainty was born.
“Falling with Grace”
PRICE Individual 1830€ ·
SOLD 1/2
1.1m x 0.9m
I felt my body falling backward, my head first.
Lying down, I felt my body being sucked in by a hurricane, I desperately searched for the eye.
The task of ordering the chaos was arduous, but after all, my life depended on it..
“Meeting Place”
PRICE 2730€
1m x 1m
The sunlight crawled across the floor, warming the damp sewer where his crumbling body lay,
he was no longer trying to catch his breath.
His doctor had abandoned his multiple attempts and, despite everything, from that position, a vain hope that a comforting light was hidden beyond the darkness made him smile.
THIS IS NOT FINE DINING
Years have passed sharing great conversations about art and its commitments in its different cultures and means of expression, father and son, debating with passion and vigor about existential questions as if our lives depended on it. Since I was a child, I was lucky enough to be considered an equal at the dinner table, escaping the repeated french fries and often sharing the "adults'" menu, although I also used the dining room as a battlefield, a place to confront the one who fed me, refusing to eat and hurting myself with my own weapons. I quickly understood that "I like it" or "I don't like it" is not as directly related as I thought to "good" or "bad," but rather that my tastes are born from the human relationship that surrounds it. With time, I observed that much more is hidden here, that these relationships are full of power games and that on the battlefield, where so much blood was shed, my tastes were structured, based on my victories and my defeats. The aesthetics, and the tastes that govern me, are therefore the conclusion of all these relationships, consolidated in my memory.
"This is not fine dining" is an exhibition that stems from the need to question a cliché. There are many stories in the world of gastronomy that deserve to be told, but I find it necessary to emphasize that the history of cooking, like that of art, has always been instrumentalized by the dominant culture, established by those who held power. The different aesthetics or trends are the conclusion, among other things, of the social relationships of the time and their mannerisms, because "the king likes this and consequently the whole court does too."
It was important for me to understand that this instrumentalization is a consequence of the same power games that took place at my family's table, but between adults in high-standing places. I am not trying to judge it here, I am only pointing out the fact that the development of painting, like that of dance, or cooking, has been calibrated to the expectations of the clients, and not of the artists. Therefore, few arts, or artists, have been freed from the need to be validated, from assuming the subversive role of sharing their most intimate madness, with all the flavors that it implies. For purely economic purposes, artists are used to remaining faithful to the demands of the foreign eye, corseted in outdated structures. Until not so long ago, "art" only served to reproduce the idealized images of high society, staging its narratives and creating a very precise distinction between the culture or folklore of the people, with their fascinating songs, rounds, and grandmother's recipes, versus the music, dances, and other ornaments of "high society." A way of sublimating and differentiating the power of the common people, and at the same time showing the value of one's own culture as an identity signature.
What does this have to do with "fine dining"?
"This is not fine dining" proposes a critique of the forced mannerism that has nothing to do with food, quality, or the sincerity of the gesture. It is an open provocation that seeks to differentiate very clearly the substance from the form. "Fine dining" is the ostentation of the form, of the container and not of the content. It has nothing to do with the free and unleashed creativity of so many artists fascinated by their own discoveries who find their limits and doodle with them. The search that I share with my father, Bernd, is the sincerity of the spontaneous gesture; the proposition of truly innovative experiences; it is to build fertile contexts for creativity, free from all the noise that prevents paying attention to the artist's experience.
Let's differentiate between eating well and the pretense.
Many restaurants, many artists dedicate a large part of their energy to building the container, the form, the concept, the idea, and forget to fill it with experiences, adventures, passion, obsessions, and madness. I understand the difficulty of losing control, of feeling fragile, of showing oneself to be vulnerable, of being afraid, of falling, but it is only there that the treasures we so desperately seek are found, the nuggets that make art a "real" path.
We all know that historically, the great French chefs served the nobility, and that when heads rolled, they were left without work and had to reinvent themselves, filling the cities with high-level kitchens to serve what would then be their new clients, the bourgeoisie.
We must not forget that the Michelin guide was literally invented to "burn rubber," a way of consuming the tires of the famous tire company. In this very original way, all those Parisians who, being great gourmets and gourmands, suffered from the typical centralism of big cities, doubting that anything of value existed beyond the limits of their city, were encouraged to travel.
PODCAST FROM “EL PUTO CRACK CLUB” : #66 Bastian Sinsé, Create your own truth.
LISTEN TO THE PODCAST HERE
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