May-June, 2018

Two timelines in the same space.
Two moments,
two series of the same substance marginalizing a sculptural event.

An object that rides since 2003 proliferating and permeating my possible definition of art and the officiating of it, and another that appears from the imprint, from certain undefined eventuality in which I only intuit the structure. Both, however, are determined by the intrinsic qualities of the elements that come from different processes of formation and transformation: the organic, tree (seed), wood, etc, and the industrial: cut or pulverized, painted, etc, and which the constructed object knots, ingests it to give continuity to that changing existence. In the shared space, it seems that both series ignore each other. They coexist but they can’t look at each other. In the abstraction of the atoms, infinity is foreseen, the unfolding of the form that is thought and understood in the course. The figuration of the zebras shows the pause of what has become a domain. In both cases, manufacturing orders the relation of my doubts and is my way to generate new questions, of finding new names.

On the next room, Morning patterns is a series that I do from the daily morning walk, finding patterns of light on solid city planes. The values invest their sign in practice through materiality: painted paper and its geometric construction superimposed on a clamp table.

Fernando Carabajal