The smile

The title of this painting may initially provoke perplexity: ‘La Sonrisa’ (‘The Smile’).
Ruddy, growlingly talkative, plump, youthful, jolly and (because it is so tasty) fatally destined for slaughter, the suckling pig. And that fact is that it is the portrait of a pig... even if it surprises us.
The outline of the animal, drawn with a diction that is close to expressionist abstraction, is suggested on the left side of the support base. Bitumen black hues (seemingly uncouth) and large blotches of ochre —allowing the transparency of the background to shine through in the highlights— “draw” its volume. The eye spills into a viscous drip and looks at us with agonising sorrow. Tears? The face of the kotxo (pig) is crossed by five, rabidly thrust, blackish strokes; crosswise, hurtful and dripping strokes, that appear like five painful sores. Another two larger sprinkled areas are also aggressive and could be mimicking the shape of the ear, or new wounds. In the body of the animal we also see rough scrapes. And the mouth —a slobbering suture— smiles at us with an anguished wince.
If we add the title to the image perhaps we could think of a joke by the author. A joke, yes, but bitter. Because is it not ironic to reach the most joyful state of health to end up defunct? Cruel fate that of being born... to be killed.
When we asked Jesus Mª Bea about the picture, he snapped the following response: “There are pigs that are not animals, and animals that are not so much pigs.” Perhaps La sonrisa is only a show of ironic, acid humour... but perhaps it is a metaphor for the foolish brutality of the omnivorous cruelty of man. A hidden allusion to the human being whose survival is largely maintained by killing.
Javier Suescun Molilna