We chat to Ritchelly Olivera, a portrait and visual artist from Brazil, about the unspoken words hidden in his illustrations.
I began my work in a phase where everything seemed to slip through my fingers, as well as the words at that time. The drawing that accompanied me from an early age gained strength when I realized that is for him I now speak. I remember as a child learning to ride a bicycle; a dizzy relationship with the unknown always inseparable from a path, which relates to my current design process.
The bumps and anxieties are present there. But by drawing, experiments take flight. Several times what I feel is the ephemeral, both in touch and by looking in their lives in the naive smile, speech, or a specific time marked in memory that we unfortunately cannot revive. Maybe it’s all poetic, sentimental, too emotional. However, that cliche is of love, which forms the basis of my speech. The bumps leave marks, some wounds leave scars and these are also witnesses of my route.
I once loved someone very strongly, and at first it was pure excitement, the passion of blindness gave way later to build an affection … I do not speak here as an artist, but as someone who is sentimental. Does art, many times, not just consist in expressing something that does not fit the words? A look, a tear, a smile, a beiijo, the twinkle in his eye … my illustrations are also witnesses, open wounds, and scars also speak of me.
Does art, many times, not just consist in expressing something that does not fit the words?
I speak of what I suspect to be love, and believe it to be a universal feeling. I propose to say what is common to men, knowing that this love brings something that is personal and private. What I know is my lived loves, I tell myself, and what affects me. I do not have direct access to what others think or feel in their hearts.
All I have are looks, gestures.
Sometimes words alone.
Feel the love at his tumblr.