THE SONG OF JUNK.

"The mechanical man who died before he was born trained on the American track," read that headline.

A sad story, which is repeated frequently ... The truth is that most of our dreams and fantasies vanish long before they come to fruition, if the concrete exists and there has been a life totally devoid of illusion and mirages . The sculptor's hands, in this and in many other cases, strive to move those limits, because any mechanical, metallic or stone man - of whatever type - undoubtedly belongs to that realm of fantasy that we explore in our moments of inconcretion. That is why Fernando Suárez is the ideal companion of those of us who belong to his same generation -and his iron creatures, let alone-, of all of us who have grown up admiring the same master cartoonists-Dan Barry, Stan Lee, Corben ...- and following month after month the adventures of athletic soft-hearted superheroes. Fernando Suárez's world is ours, but also that of those who, without ever having tensed imaginary muscles with the leaps of Dare Devil and the dazzling flights of Iron Man, still hope to see a scrap Golem emerge from that landfill in which Some unscrupulous left behind some cans with radioactive, bio-polluting and useless material. If Sheley's Creature represents the crazy dream of science, it fed on the romantic fascination for the dark and had the tragic end to which a foolish enterprise is doomed. But Fernando Suárez's living machine is the daughter of the consumer civilization, it is born among the smoking ruins that extend as far as the eye can see and it has no murderer's soul: in its mind there is a strange and unfathomable emptiness. It is clean and innocent.

Without Fernando Suárez, we would have been orphaned by characters with muscles of steel.

It happens, in the first place, that these junk dumps and the waste they house - authentic treasures of modern engineering - could be sung by any poet who wanted to speak of the decline of the industrial age, of the iron age that is coming to an end. while the fine network of electrons begins to materialize and the border between the dreamed and the visible shifts again. There the roaring machines, the heavy structures, the gears and the hinges that once made titanic efforts, the bent irons, the twisted beams, the axles and the used shoes were dismembered there.

Night will come, there will be silence and perhaps ... No, the dreams have already died, it is too late but, who will not prick up their ears waiting to hear a grinding of metal sheets, the unmistakable sound of iron bending? It is too late, it cannot be, but would not the pieces one day come together, wrap the wires around the pipes, stretch the cables over the pulleys, tighten the nuts, and the soulless, powerful and powerful mechanical man rise up? devastating?

While assembling random pieces of text I missed one of the nuts that I saw in Fernando's workshop.

Asimov, in a short story that by the way was the one he liked the most of those who wrote, imagined the evolution of a supercomputer that ended up accumulating all human knowledge and that, now converted into a luminous sphere of energy floating in the void, awaited the moment of the end of the universe to obtain the only information that was missing. When the last dying star fades away, he reviews the vast mass of data he possesses and comes to a conclusion. It says: "Let there be light." And the light was made. The mechanical man is part of that evolution: the desperate Replicants of Blade Ranner, like the characters of Fernando Suárez, have the virtue of confronting us with a non-human humanity full of nooks and crannies and enigmas. The Terminator dies to save a child and his end brings us a tear because, as that epitaph in a dog's grave said, he has "all the virtues of man and none of his defects", but he is not a dog, but an unknown, unclassifiable creature and misunderstood. Many of these characters inspire tenderness and sadness. Their own strength, their bravery, the detachment they feel towards their insensitive bodies -or not-, their strength, disproportionate to ours, their solidity, determine their fatal destiny, they are condemned to exile, they have to hide, they are feared, misunderstood and marginalized. And even if Asimov was right once again and the machine created a new universe, something in us tells us that he would still not have a soul like ours, that he would still be a robot at our service; His last - and first - instruction is aimed at bringing us back to life.

“One of the mutants was taking a red wax bath; several more were found dead in thick blocks of resin, ”the text continued.

(Fernando Suárez's machines are, of course, sworn enemies of water: if something can kill them, in addition to the very high temperatures of the foundry or the forge, it is that humidity that little by little, insensibly, is undermining his skin : at each step they leave an imperceptible trace of orange dust that tells us that, one day, they will return like us to the dust from which they come. While they are preserved in wax or resin, in varnishes and fixatives).

The other day I abandoned for the umpteenth time to its fate what the poisonous beetles had left on Lara Croft's corpse to look at a manual of “Learn to draw Marvel superheroes.” All those schematic lines, the lessons in anatomy, composition and movement, the study of the poses of maximum tension, the shading in India ink and other wonders seem deliciously archaic to me today.

Kings, princesses, great empires, titans, heroes, mythological characters, archetypes, rituals, spells, transferable energies and unexpected metamorphoses ... The action comic has its roots in the classical world, which in turn is the foundation of our conscious thought and unconscious and allows us, above all, to reconnect with athletes and games. Thus the sculpture of Fernando Suárez is dynamic, it deals essentially with action, strength, agility and everything that concerns movement. Its characters are never at rest but instead fight, hunt, climb, run and engage in incessant activity, tensing their metallic muscles, arching their sturdy backs, grabbing objects or overcoming obstacles. If we observe the support points of their figures, we will see that these often do not exist - many hang from cables - or they are the minimum possible: we are shown the moment in which the jump is going to take place, the precise moment in which the athlete or animal makes contact with the ground or will detach from it. When Fernando Suárez draws, he analyzes the complete sequence of a jump or a powerful commander and selects the image that has the greatest dynamism to later reason why he chose with the help of iron: certain plates or rods that emerge from the metallic bodies are in the lines of his first drawing come true, extending beyond the figure and marking the next steps in the sequence.

Bulls, ants, centipedes, crocodiles, scorpions, horses, lionesses and gazelles ... Splendid animals in action that the artist draws-from memory most of the time - and then translates, extolling their natural qualities and infusing them with that breath of fantasy; athletes with iron skin and robot soul, deaf perhaps, who live in a dark world, in the car graveyard among scrap metal, rebar, scrap material, screws, steel plates, plates and threads, suffering from slow but inevitable corrosion . And a sculptor, returning to the workshop with heavy sacks overflowing with rusty pieces and dreaming of mutant heroes and beasts.

Much work already done! But how much is left to do? As you progress, your titans will undoubtedly change shape, grow in size, become richer, but there will always be a single spirit to animate them all and will continue your sculpture worshiping heroes, powerful machines, the Golem and above all , to the beauty of the human body.

JAVIER RUBIO NOMBLOT.