In PREMURA (Care), the viewer enters the scene from above, observing a kitchen suspended in time, where the human figure... Read More
In PREMURA (Care), the viewer enters the scene from above, observing a kitchen suspended in time, where the human figure is absent yet still perceptible through the objects left behind. The cups on the table, the kettle on the stove, the notebook, the drawings and the small paper fragments become traces of an intimate everyday life, made of simple gestures, care and memory.
Light passes through the closed window, connecting the interior, marked by time, with the vegetation outside, alive and luminous. Inside, silence, habits and worn objects remain; outside, life continues, like a discreet promise.
The title refers to a silent form of attention: the care of someone who preserves, prepares, observes and leaves subtle signs of their passage. The space does not truly appear abandoned, but still inhabited by an invisible care, capable of enduring through absence.
