Jorge Felix’s painted constructions resemble body parts. But that observation only goes skin deep. He mixes and matches, combining male and female genitalia. The edges are jagged, and sharp objects protrude, breaking the “skin” to reveal raw “guts” beneath the surface.
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The work provokes a bit of a shock, especially when you learn that Felix is the product of a strict religious upbringing in a small town south of San Juan, Puerto Rico. His parents were Christian fundamentalists, and for a time he studied in a seminary. Then he discovered art, a vocation his family found difficult to accept. “They were never happy about it,” he says, “until they saw that I could get exhibited.”
Felix admits his work is often misinterpreted. One gut reaction nearly left him speechless. At the opening of a solo show last year at the Flat Iron Gallery, he was cornered by a young woman who was fascinated with a work called Sacred. It had a long phallic shape with barbed-wire “halos” adorning each end; the middle was torn, exposing a fleshy red material. The woman felt compelled to discuss the work with Felix. But after a while he realized she was more interested in biology than art. “She admitted that guts really turned her on.”
