By Pamela Fink

The hands are not monotonous metal arrow-shaped needles that mark the hours on a clock, nor are the chairs pre-designed furniture in series for the last of the surrealists.

The absurdity that governs the normalized is nothing but a pretext for Pedro Friedeberg rejoice in the play of conventional symbols. Why not make a chair in the shape of a hand? Or what is so respectable about chess figures that they are untouchable?

Nothing and everything at the same time seems sacred to the author who is not afraid of obsessive repetition or the addition of certain elements that break a little with what is already established without losing the original forms and giving the distinctive seal to his already beloved work. 

For him, these intelligent games like dominoes or chess border on being a slightly trivial religion and a pretext in which he can show off his playful-philosophical gifts to draw the observer's attention and question what lies behind the pieces. 

The same could be said of Pedro. He is worth stopping to look at, but we must not make the mistake of giving him a quasi-mythological image or looking at him with the eyes of a doe who flatters the artist, because then we are undermining his playful element and taking away dimension from his depth. 

Pedro's work is meant to be fun, as well as to generate reflections, but it seeks to get away from the more tedious part by downplaying its importance. This attitude can be seen more clearly in the documentary "Pedro" by Liora Spilk Bialostozky, in which a young gaze explores the charismatic figure of the artist, accompanying him in his daily life and also portraying how frustrating and satisfying this genre can be, turning it into an oxymoron. 

In stills from the audiovisual project that can now be found on Netflix, it is sometimes noticeable how uncomfortable it is for Pedro to have an invasive camera pointing at his face and scourging his privacy. 

This aspect of contemporary culture of documenting minute details of “everything” with the “little telephone” seems to the author apocalyptic and possibly intoxicating, emitting - why not? - polluting rays or waves, probably products of an infinitely stupid and perverse idleness. Something really detestable, which is why transmission through oral/written tradition has the advantage when it comes to portraying the essence of Friedeberg. 

And this same essence from face to face will be remembered by some of the lucky ones who were able to live at the same time as Pedro did in Saint Michael from 1977 to the end of the 1990s, which was an inexhaustible source of inspiration for him and many others. 

This source still runs through the veins of the artist who exclaimed that if he could give free rein to his creativity without logical inconveniences or budgetary limitations, he would be delighted to create St. Peter's Square in Rome on a double scale in an Egyptian-Mayan-Toltec style on some Pacific island or specifically on an island in the Atlantic about 30 degrees from the Equator. 

We certainly hope that this pipe dream will come true like so many others. Peter which are already a reality beyond our collective-pataphysical reality.

Find his work in San Miguel: www.galeriacasadiana.com