The very word "globalization" is a fake. There is no such
thing as globalization, there is only virtualization. What is
being effectively globalized by instantaneity is time.
Everything now happens within the perspective of real
time: henceforth we are deemed to live in a "one-time-
system."

Paul Virilio

The Wynwood Art District has resuscitated from its lethargy. It’s been a while since an exhibition or a particular piece really inflamed us. When saying “inflame,” I don’t refer to the spectator’s natural, superficial reaction resulted from his interaction with the art piece. Inevitable feelings of love, hatred, rejection, or disappointment arouse at the contemplation of any artwork. No, I am talking about a more intellectual and visceral response. May this alter the way we see the world and the art form per se? Naturally, producing effects that infect, penetrate deeply our brains and modify our perceptions is not a requirement. But, we all agree with the idea that art somehow connects with the re-fried issue of memory –childhood memories, games learned, books read, pictures seen, ideas borrowed from other artists, classic phrases, fairy tales, etc.- Does art have to do with the memory of the spectator as well?

What things can we remember from an art show -images, titles of specific works? A show that is poorly conceived -not on a materialistic but on a theoretical basis- is meant to stay there, inside the white cube. It does not have the power to generate an echo in our minds, so we delete every mental picture related to it without any sense of remorse whatsoever. Shows made of pieces that pierce our brain, our stomach, our backbone happen to be the ones we don’t forget. Good art shows make us get out of the gallery with a pungent emotion, an abstract synopsis of the artistic subject, a belief, and a somewhat raw opinion on what the art business is about. But how would the concept of real businesses fall apart, disintegrate into little portions of logic and common sense? Is art itself considered a business form? Is doing business a form of art?

DBA Nobody, the most recent show of Francis Acea, disarticulates all particles of the business concept. On view at Kunsthaus Miami, the exhibit makes us see –analyze- the commercial/infomercial crater in which we live. Business notions are perforated, disintegrated into tiny particles with impressive consistency (medicinal capsules, pennies, words) for an easier and rational understanding of the subject. Is starting a business the only route to survive or succumb within the hollow? Francis Acea offers opportune suggestions on how to succeed in a business environment, handle stress, or plan ahead of our needs. The artist approaches his public from a controversial, frightening? point of view: the business man’s.



Business Tips uses the idea of the pill from the medication industry. There are pills for every symptom: pains, depression, obsessions. The conception of pill is so strong that one takes tablets beforehand, no matter what effects they might cause on our bodies. Pills have even been produced to exterminate (real and) fictitious illnesses. Sometimes they bring viruses along that spread throughout the people, leading to the obliged invention of new capsules. We’re living in the century of the pill. Did we sink into a ceaseless vicious cycle? How often do we insert words like drugstore, prescription, medication in our conversations? And yet, taking a pill may be the only solution, for doing business becomes a sickness, a clear symptom of our addiction to money. Should we take pills that may treat our business mania?

The artist explains crucial points that would help us fulfill the demand for speed, develop policies, manage relationships, and plan effectively in the business world. One hundred words contained in one hundred pills form the one-hundred word paragraph describing what has to be done. Motive, mission, commitment, discipline, owning, virtual, training, e-mail, compensation, strategic, and corporate are some of the words encapsulated; they become the essence, the content of the pills that will alleviate (or accentuate) our illness. The addicted viewer -sick victim, passive consumer, potential investor- may idyllically get either one or a hundred tablets at once. It depends on the gravity of his suffering.

Made of 140, 000 pennies, a golden carpet lies on the floor. Is money the only solid ground to walk over? For business people, it is. But, for some reason, we all fall into this category. Both consumers and producers look forward to building a “solid” ground to step on with no preoccupations. Waves of coinage appear superposed, reflecting different and contrasting tonalities. Here, money does not seem to be disgusting but aesthetically suitable for our hypocrite minds. Decomposed in tiny specks, fourteen hundred dollars may produce some kind of tenderness. (Money has a poetic side afterwards.) People submerge their hands into the cash as they would do into the placid waters of a pool. Why did the artist cover up the gallery floor with golden units? Did he try to disguise old fissures within the “gilded space”?

The creation of a false ground above the real ground reflects the need for virtualization. Attracting more investors is the most important task for the big entrepreneurs. Banks, for example, have to gain people’s trust towards becoming the receptacle of their finances. Of course, the feeling of trust connects deeply with the sense of security, customer’s confidence. Does this trust guarantee an increase on the customer’s capital? No, it does not. For the industrialists, gaining customer’s confidence represents the possibility to multiply their inversions and improve their profits, which are not meant to benefit the common people. Trust may have an illusory nature. It’s only a matter of imagination. The golden ground will always be solid for bank owners, yet it will never be stable for their customers.

The artist plays with the illusion of solidity to invite the spectators dream for a while. Sometimes, one needs to step over a virtual floor the same ways one goes to haunted houses or to the movies. Ironically, Francis brings real money into the gallery, place he depends on for selling his work. The installation recalls Stanley Kubrick’s famous scene with a wave of blood inundating the stairways of an old hotel, the floor. In The Shining, Kubrick shows the power of the blood that demolishes everything around. Where does this blood come from? Metaphorically, this avalanche originates from the killing of innocent people while any other new victims might drown in it. Likewise, Francis Acea creates an artificial shining that perpetuates inside our brains. His Solid Ground converts to a marshland in which consumers might rapidly be swallowed.

Relocations entitles another installation made of 23 framed hammer drawings on glass. Each fragment constitutes a self sufficient entity that can be remembered without effort. The abstract diagrams connect with each other, resembling virtual work teams developed by computer technologies. Is the shattered glass symbolizing the fragility of the virtual world? Is the hammer a real object or a virtual machine? In this case, the artist uses the hammer to produce more virtual than real effects. The action of hitting the glass has been performed away from our sight, so our brains must open for what it is imagined to have happened. The real act reaches its virtual dimension only in our mind’s eye, which is too composed by a complex system of (real & invented) memories associated. This piece inevitably re-connects us with the words “network” and “relationships” offered inside the pills. The spatial distribution of the drawings on the wall suggests the invisible but otherwise effective set of connections, arrangements established online. The action of beating refers to the fact that cyber interactions posses a violent tint due to the very condition of haste in which these contacts may be set up.
The issue of speed comes to be one of the most relevant themes in this exhibition. As we examine each and every particle of the business scheme, we become aware of what Paul Virilio calls “the dictatorship of speed.” What does it mean to be under the influence of such regime? In the process of fighting the tyranny of the majority, we have been dominated by the concept of pace, a valuable turning point in the course of our story. The transformation, if any, takes place in reverse: virtual features like tempo, haste, velocity gradually materialize their objectuality. According to the dictionary, the word speed defines the rapidity of motion or performance, the rate of progress, and any type of amphetamine. We have accepted the condition of promptness, quickness, rapidity at all levels. For instance, it is more likely to see people traveling on a plane than on the bus, sending e-mails instead of writing true letters, and meeting soul mates online (or on the phone) rather than dating someone in real life. Has virtual speed become a virus?

The artist submits the rest of his business tips written in acrylic on two huge white canvases. His thoughts seem to leak out of the imprint as though it were a shower of petroleum, black blood, black tears. What should we do when bad times come -moderate our stress, cultivate alliances with nobody, suffocate our feelings, get used to the sense of asphyxia? Francis Acea shares a few action verbs needed to reinforce business relationships. The sense of speed returns with the view of the acrylic stains distributed on the canvas surface. The obscure blots rush, battle ferociously against each other. Take it or leave it. Short phrases break into precise remarks that underline the imminence of the computer-based communication system and the pressure for strengthening its virtual infrastructure.

Borrowed from the icon series, Wheel represents a neutral circular face with golden eyes. The small piece alludes to fundamental patterns of the Western culture like the thirst (routine) for advertising, materialism and consumption. Is this the wheel of fortune? Is this the wheel of life? Viewers/consumers get progressively familiarized (intoxicated?) with certain symbols created to release visual information. Words have been associated with specific signs that one unconsciously incorporates. Although advertising logos may change over time, the spectator does have the ability to add new images to his cerebral database without removing any of the past accumulated information. One digests symbols the same ways one digests the pills. The message, essence, content is what stays with us forever, producing dangerous –physical or mental- results.

The installation Mc Donald’s-Fast Food-WWW shows the sign’s pre-disposition to change as a method to secure the global expansion of the business companies. The letter M (iconic representation of the legendary Mc Donald’s) becomes a W –from the globally recognized WWW cyberspace depiction. Coincidentally, the W may also be associated to Wendy’s, another renowned fast food restaurant. Business companies enhance their stability by means of adapting themselves to their surroundings. Corporations transform real items (food, clothes, etc.) into visual signs, so as to accelerate the receptor’s assimilation process. Words aren’t required anymore when simple figures can be more fruitfully installed in our memory. Business companies imitate or reproduce forgotten images. Every now and then, their emblems mutate the same as chameleon skin, for they have to overcome their competitors and secure a spot within the modern global world.
The work of Francis Acea reveals the other side of the coin. The use of the cyber space helps people exceed spatial barriers, but it also increases the possibilities of mislaying, camouflaging personal & collective information. Internet clients buy goods, sell their souls to the devil, and graduate from college without leaving their homes. Enterprises extent their territory as they compromise their moral values. Cloning standards and falsifying patterns may be the only “trusting” manners for them to propagate around the world. Globalization? Virtualization? What’s the solution, then? These concepts seem too big to be looked at through the microscope. We might want to split the theory and observe each single particle.