A flotilla of shimmering red reflector discs hangs from a balcony high up in the gallery, mapping out the fabric of a space which is paradoxically solid and air, transparence and colour. Call it a gigantic veil, or a scrap of a mantilla, the flamenco dancer’s shawl, this blown up detail becomes a synecdoche to memory, given Marti’s title “Missing Spain.” And if this title prods the viewer to musing on mundane associations between material remainders and memory, well and good, for Marti is no snob, deliberately situating his work in the vernacular of everyday thoughts and speech. Marti never refuses the obvious, preferring to go with it, knowing well that the obvious is the entry point for a more complex sequence of thoughts. Therefore, he doesn’t shirk from offering a visual stimulus which everyone can comfortably connect to the obvious suggestiveness of “Spanish” red.

– Ann Finnegan

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