What’s an object?
Its definition can be ambiguous. An object can be considered in its
material, physical form, but it can also be a rarefied entity, something
created and shaped by thought or emotion.
The series Objects fits in this suspended state in between
concrete and abstract. The artworks of which the series is made up are milestones of a journey
that started with a flight and that my mind inevitably associates with loss and
new beginnings. It’s a visual storytelling that unfolds between its protagonists’
clothes, instruments, and possessions.
They all tell a story made of habits, desires, beliefs. Not a finished
story, but an attempt at catharsis that extends beyond the private event and
invites the observer into a shared journey.
While the end goal is remembrance, the techniques and the materials used
are precarious by essence: paper, pencil drawing, and charcoal concur to the
achievement of a level of awareness that is reflected in the artistic expression.
In His, the drawing of the garment my father was wearing on the
day he died overlaps with that of one of his shirts, found with the sleeves
still rolled up. On one side is the stasis, the end of a journey. On the other,
a life in progress, made of hard work. The two intersect in a drawing that
immortalizes them. Feathers on the sleeves, finally, sublimate the individual’s
body to a celestial state, which is emphasized by the color blue.
