There is, since Goya, a painting made of darkness. In other words, the painting of light that refers to the night, as there is - since Francis Bacon - a painted form that is applied to represent that which has no form.
When painting seems to bring us the light to direct our gaze towards the shadow, then we find ourselves before something that is sublime. Miguel Macaya's painting points the gaze towards the sublime precisely because, without renouncing light, it directs us towards the dark side of vision: towards what we cannot (or do not want to) see, the unknown background towards which his characters turn when they turn their backs on us. It would seem that, like his most conspicuous pictorial references, Miguel Macaya's canvases recover for the nobility of oil what only oil can represent: the deep night, the infinite black, the blind reference from where all the questions that art made light and color can barely answer come from.

Macaya looks towards the dark side of the vision: towards what we cannot (or do not want to) see, the unknown background towards which his characters turn when they turn their backs on us. It would seem that, like his most conspicuous pictorial references, Miguel Macaya's canvases recover for the nobility of oil what only oil can represent: the deep night, the infinite black, the blind reference from where all the questions that art made of light and color can barely answer come from.