Don’t try to find the sea creatures in Chico da Silva’s paintings in a book; you won’t find them. They are creatures not of this world, but of da Silva’s imagination; not that the artist would make any distinction between those two realms. These fish dance and bedazzle; they fight and swarm; they eat each other; some even seem to flirt with each other. "Each day I’d invent a different fish: my mind’s full of fish" the artist said. They come in a multitude of colours and patterns: whole landscapes, worlds within worlds, unfold across their scales, or perhaps inside their bellies. In oil on canvas and gouache on paper, da Silva imbues them with a jewellike quality, the artist partnering each dash of colour with a brush of white so his subject appears to glimmer luminescent.
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— Oliver Basciano, journalist, critic