Immaculate Conception 

Curator: Here we have Raúl Berzosa's oil painting, "Immaculate Conception." It's brimming with allegorical meaning, isn’t it? Editor: My first impression? It feels… overwhelmingly ornate. A gilded explosion of cherubs, fabrics, and light. I'm immediately curious about the labour behind something so decorative; look at the detail! Curator: There’s an almost operatic drama to it, a real Baroque flourish. And, beneath the spectacle, consider the iconographic density! Mary triumphs over the serpent, symbolizing original sin. Editor: And speaking of snakes, the quality of that snake's scales...the medium of oil-paint really is taken to task here. Did Berzosa do studies in any craft traditions, in painting tiles, for instance? Look how he pushes pigment into every corner. Curator: Perhaps. But also consider this through a deeply personal lens. It reminds me of the fierce, protective love I feel towards my own children, mirrored in Mary's gaze towards the infant Christ. The piece shimmers like a shared memory. Editor: And who were Berzosa's models, I wonder. Looking closer at the cherubic faces, there’s an endearing irregularity. Almost like a very careful workshop that nevertheless had child helpers, or maybe they were a way for children to imagine an angel of their own. Curator: Perhaps these are Berzosa's hopes, fears, and dreams for the future. Editor: Indeed. It speaks to an economy of devotional production, and that feels like a strong claim about faith that's worth dwelling on. Curator: Seeing it again reminds me how it asks us to reimagine our own connection to the spiritual world. Editor: Exactly! Its excess opens space to question who had the resources and time to enjoy the benefits of this labour-intensive picture in the first place. It truly showcases a certain perspective on faith as work.