Yolanda Relinque’s work is a cry of affirmation and courage, with a great value. When the modus operandi of beings of those called adults assumes the concerted imposture of making believe that everything is going well, that everything is perfect; Her work is revealed as a slap to the insolvency of hypocrisy as flag and banner of this life. Yolanda's essay is a reviewing, inquiring, and sniffing excersise in episodes-as lapses as unpalatable of textured pain, poetized, now turned into salvation. The work translates, in its own, into a kind of therapy, a kind of relief to the malaise of a culture that is organized on phallic domain regency. She, in her thickness, endorse the authority of that broken voice, which exalts the value of the scar confronted to those who are in the register of the wound.

 

Nature is only a concentrated pain, a state of curse on which the culture makes its streams through segments and categories which contribute a little or nothing to the comprehension and understanding of subjectivities. It is there, in that place of encounter and loss, in which her work is carried out with all the grace and magical ease of the maker or the alchemist. And Yolanda has a little of it all: her work is that of the indefatigable weaver who plays to spin the world in its zones of destruction and ruins; But it is also that alchemist that transforms the darkness into poetics, making this a space of light.

 

Andrés Isaac Santana- curator

 

​