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My mother, a remarkable woman whom I have never truly honored. I often feel her presence. I know these things don't usually happen, but they do. She had her favorite tree: a beautiful catalpa that she herself planted in our garden many years ago. In spring, it would burst forth punctually and joyfully, filling its leafy, almost round, and perfect crown. When my mother passed away, the catalpa continued to do so, I believe, in her memory. Not long… ago, a heavy snowfall came, one of those that only occur in Madrid every ten or fifteen years. The city, unaccustomed to snow, was paralyzed for several days. The catalpa's branches were also laden with snow, and under its weight, some branches broke and fell. Seeing this fallen branch, I also saw its heart, and I transformed it into a sculpture.
Óscar Vega primarily uses oil on canvas, employing a limited palette of red, white, and black, and occasionally resin. He combines painting, drawing, and sculpture from a self-taught perspective rooted in his background in philosophy and psychology. He uses understated techniques, interpreting figuration with graphic touches, creating endearing figures and thematic collections. He pays homage to masters, incorporating ready-made objects into his chromatic schemes. His style acknowledges the imperfections of the creative process and rejects digital coldness. His works overflow with strength, rebellion, and a profound social commitment, generating a powerful emotional response, irony, and a challenging beauty with a humanist and nonconformist message.