If buildings could speak.....

......what would they say? Would they sing us a lullaby, shout at us in anger, speak of frustrations or exclaim in surprise? Would they smile with pleasure, cry with pain, look askance at the future or simply be in harmony with whatever happens to occur around them? Most certainly, few of us would say a building has soul, until that moment when, upon entering a space, we feel a sense of peace or one of unease. A sense of being spoken to, even when no words are being said.

Nick Inguanez has gone beyond. This young architect and artist is presenting a collection of 23 untitled studies and 10 acrylic on canvas works for this, his second solo show. They are a carefully selected lot, carefully made, carefully researched and carefully curated by Elyse Tonna, another architect who has managed to find common ground with Inguanez on the thematics behind the show.

It is not easy to explain away this exhibition. But imagine being conscious of change, trying to come to terms with an ever-evolving landscape, one that is not going to remain the way it was, for reasons varied. Some valid, others less so, but nonetheless change is happening. Inguanez has taken stock of a handful of emblematic buildings and sites around Malta, most of which hit the headlines in the past 12 months or so. He has given them colour, soul and a figurative if somewhat ephemeral personality, beyond the stone and the dust that still needs to settle around them.

The first of the series was a painting Inguanez chose to name Deranged. The nude body of an old man to depict age, time and the sense of confusion felt by the senile when faced with rapid and unexpected change. Inguanez sheds light on this: "At the time when I started working on this project, I personally felt a sense of confusion at the conflicting news emerging on several key buildings which were being touched upon in varied manners.”

To each painting, each site or building, location or space, Inguanez has juxtaposed a human nude, sometimes a female, at times a male, often-time a shadow of nondescript sexuality. Each painting is described by a human sentiment, state of mind or state of being... “de- ceived”, “awakening”, “dormant”, “uprooted”. He helps us understand better by providing a sub-title to pinpoint out the location, edifice, site in question. And then we have only to immerse ourselves in the colours.... at times flowing and smooth, at others savagely violent and intense with passion or anger. Inguanez speaks of an over-saturation of change in a small time-frame, on a small island that is taking stock of what it has become as change continues unabated.

Each of the 10 larger works em- brace a number of projections, overlays, shades and shadows with the building itself sitting backstage, while its human embodiment speaks to the spectator. The studies show each projection for what it is, a layer within the process of artistic development. But the canvases bring together building and soul so that we may envision the interpretation of a mood.

Elyse Tonna explains: "We would visit a site together, sit down and reflect upon it. We would discuss how we can empathise with the site, what kind of spirit it was imbued with at that moment in time. Then we would research, dissect and evaluate before Nick could begin to create a visual image of what each site was “telling him”.

If art is a reflection of its time, this is art that captures the mood and the colours of change happening around us in a surprisingly unique way. We, the rest of us, are but onlookers... or are we?

‘Aesthetics of Disappearance’, solo exhibition by Nick Inguanez, is at Palazzo de la Salle, Republic Street, Valletta until 28 September.