Sin título, 2013.

La obra consiste en una tormenta eléctrica dibujada con alargadores eléctricos semirrígidos interconectados. Los cables (pintados de azul) toman electricidad de la instalación lumínica del techo y bajan, colgando con hilo de tanza dibujando las típicas quebraduras de los relámpagos. La instalación eléctrica es funcional: los cables llevan electricidad (aunque aquellos que podrían ser alcanzados por las manos de los espectadores y pasantes pueden no tener corriente). La obra se utiliza entonces para proveer de electricidad a todas las cosas de la sala que necesiten corriente eléctrica: otras obras de arte, televisores institucionales, iluminación de la sala, etc...

Así mismo, algunos de los tubos de luz originales de la sala también estarán suspendidos del techo y conectados a diferentes puntos flotantes de la obra. Los tubos no utilizados deberán quedar apagados. De esta manera, al igual que los relámpagos en el horizonte, la instalación site-specific no solo irrumpe en el espacio de transito sino que también define su iluminación.

Me interesa el relámpago por que es el momento en donde se produce un extrañamiento de la realidad: el sonido se desincroniza de la imagen. El trueno llega tarde, la velocidad de la luz impone su velocidad. La obra, al igual que el fenómeno climático, acontece y se manifiesta como una imagen instantánea. Pero esta vez congelada y transitable.

Decir sí (To say yes), 2013.

The work consists of two voile curtains mounted on both sides of the inferior part of the window on the first floor. One of the curtains will remain still in the inside, and the other will be exposed to weather conditions on the outside. The fabric of the curtains allows us to see the movement of one through the stillness of the other. As days go by, we will be able to see how the one on the outside gradually deteriorates while the one on the inside remains intact.

Quince novelas y una guía de usuario (Fifteen novels and a user guide), 2013.

A group of paintings in small format, emplaced in Fundación Proa’s library. I wanted to make a smooth intervention, close to the ideals of interior design. The group of paintings “fifteen novels and a user guide” is inscribed within my investigation on intertextuality as the mechanism that constructs the cultural barrier that separates the categories of reality and hallucination.

With the “Bird Encylopaedia”, I allude to the vegetation that grows in the margins and the cracks of the city. It’s a small bronze sculpture that I filled with dirt I gathered from different places in La Boca and that will remain in the open so that, if possible, the seeds that rest in it, and others that may come from elsewhere, can grow.

Ballet de Gigantes, 2013.
Elastic bands enveloping, connecting and twisting space, a gymnastic that allows in situ improvisation, demanding an understanding and a practice based on the logic and the possibilities offered by space.

I’m terribly incapable of inventing anything. It’s an impossible plan for me. In turn, surroundings, approximations, are the best destinations for my visions and thoughts, trained to work with the possibilities that lie within things to become unusual and with the infinite opportunities offered by spaces, objects and situations, always understanding transformation as a necessity of our environment.

We enter the library and see special lines traced by black elastic bands that interlace columns, go through, ascend to the columns in the Café, come down again and wrap around a book.
The idea is to propose possibilities for new visual perceptions starting at points inherent the building’s architecture, changing rythms and adding elastic and mixed up lines projected in strange ways.

I like to think of the installation as a flexible grouping that points to the multiple displacements that can be produced, for a possible performatic action by the visitor, given in the movement of the objects wrapped by the elastic bands, would modify the drawings and visual weaving that the “mobile lines” achieve in space.

Each idea, each image that I construct always emerges from a story that combines the loosest logic and the most solid fantasy. There isn’t a single way to explain what we see. The conceptual mediation between the world and each one of us creates a space where everything becomes multiple. From the itinerary of a fly or the traces left by a pair of dancing, giants ghosts. Or to also discover the trajectory of a nervous bird that aimlessly flew through the room, trying to find a way out.