![Photographed by Alligator Jesus.](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472baf23903396dec100fa7_image-asset.jpeg)
Photographed by [Alligator Jesus](https://www.instagram.com/alligatorjesus/?hl=en).
Color. That’s the first thing that hits me when entering a room full of the marvelous [Marcel Alcala](https://www.instagram.com/marcel_alcala/?). High color. Vibrant and alive. Greens deeper than envy. Blues wider than The Sargasso Sea. Reds molten as lava. And yellows that have been kissed by the lucky ol’ sun. These are the colors of Alcala’s tasty rainbow -- and they are transcendent.
They’re also placed into the service of some much higher realm. For this paint-slinger is no mere abstract flasher -- he’s a literal storyteller, in figurative form. And his narrative thrusts the hell out of history.
![Photographed by Alligator Jesus.](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472baf23903396dec100fa4_flaunt%2Bmagazine%2Bmarcel%2Balcala%2BDavid%2BTamargo%2B5.jpeg)
Photographed by [Alligator Jesus](https://www.instagram.com/alligatorjesus/?hl=en).
And histories. His. Yours. Mine. And anybody else who’s ever taken a sacred breath in this or any other world. There’s Marcel cracking through the Wall that’s been erected to try and separate his land and our land (and which forgets the fluidity of country). There are the party boys and girls frolicking in and around the pool in a flaming Hollywood Hills (and who will burn away the night no matter what). There’s the Grand Dame of Instagram showing her best face to the world (and her real truth to those who can see). There’s the Queen of Quince showing her absolute power (and showing a pile of white guys how it’s really done).
![Photographed by Alligator Jesus.](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472baf13903396dec100f44_image-asset.jpeg)
Photographed by [Alligator Jesus](https://www.instagram.com/alligatorjesus/?hl=en).
They’re all there alright. And they’re all brutally rendered, exquisitely poised and emboldened by stabs of allusion and allegory. Then again, what else would you expect from a Santa Ana-bred sissy visionary who was schooled at The Art Institute of Chicago? The self-portraits come replete with clap-back tags and Faireys. The revelers come ringed in white hot pink. The selfie-seller is half a martini away from it’s over. And Senora Poder is flanked by age old deities and unmitigated legend. Better still, each is more reverberant than the next -- and the last.
![Photographed by Alligator Jesus.](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472baf33903396dec100fd3_flaunt%2Bmagazine%2Bmarcel%2Balcala%2BDavid%2BTamargo%2B9.jpeg)
Photographed by [Alligator Jesus](https://www.instagram.com/alligatorjesus/?hl=en).
There’s more of course. Much much more. But to say much more would spoil the experience. Better you see for your own self. Then see if you believe your own damn eyes.
The show’s called Sissy No Fool. It’s being held at [SADE Gallery](https://www.sade-la.com/) throughout the month of November. And if you don’t make the time to take it all in, well, don’t blame me when you show up among the missing it.