If you live in Spain then you know the far off and increasingly closer klank of the butanero broadcasting his presence in the neighborhood. I remember the first time I heard it laying in bed and thinking "Who the f#%& is making that racket!!!!". I learned that the clanging was the plaintiff call of the butanero looking to mate with consumers who's buildings had not yet been adapted to having gas piped directly into their homes. It's a bit of a strange, very basic system for distributing Gas bottles throughout the land. The Butaneros are primarily Pakistani. In the piece I wanted to address this subculture of Spain which to me seems somehow a form medievil serfdom. Butanos for me are very much a symbol of life in Spain and by using the truck (which is owned and run by the company Repsol) I wanted to draw a parallel between the large and powerful multinationals that rule Iberia as well as draw attention to the caste (so to speak) that are responsible for the distribution of the individual bottles. Literally the powerful and rich reliant on the backs of the have nots. I also liked the truck because there is no driver, if you have been in Spain any of the last years then you would have to observe that it does feel somewhat like a boat without a captain.
Meanwhile on the Peninsula, 250cm x 160cm, Painted Steel, 2012
Friendly neighborhood Butanero