Again and again I circle back to the atomic age’s visual vocabulary: radiant color, engineered shapes, domestic objects tuned to an idea of modern life, scientific diagrams, architectural optimism, that slick promise of a future made clean by technology. Yet what grips me just as much is what’s left when the promise breaks. Who got to belong inside those visions of progress, and who paid for them? Which stories were pushed out of frame? What continues to glow once the official narrative has already moved on?
30 inches x 40 inches | Acrylic, ink, and copper on canvas
Ángel Rafael Vázquez-Concepción 