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[exhibition text] The uselessness of art redeems us humans, it is a space opposite, a counter-production that we need to keep interpreting and building, ideally in the most neutral way possible. Art is not about us, it is about all. Beyond any speculation I believe that the reason our world needs art is because we perceive a notion of complete equality and equanimity that exists only in the fundamental absolute power of art. We need art because it affects us, the experience damages us while simultaneously helping us regain trust in a condition that seems to avoid us. Our temporality, stubbornness, personal views, the excesses of added values; art doesn’t care for these, it attacks and erodes them, becoming relevant to us. Because the encounter with art humbles us, we must care for it. Working on art projects stands not as an escape nor a crusade, but perhaps as a poetic lament and an attempt at translating into tangible that unfathomable space. From our fragmented reality, surviving all accidents of being, I keep striving to bring versions of this poetry into the world, translations that remain always imperfect and incomplete, but are done with as much fidelity as possible. This exhibition is one version of this, including works produced with broken, discarded and found materials; surviving traumatic transformations these are presented again heroic, as poetic figures in their regenerated structures, symbolic of the fluid nature of attested conceptions, or what is original.

Notes on the un/reasons for Poem for Uselessness

words come from sound, sound comes from wisdom, wisdom comes from emptiness, deep relaxation. (extract from 'Welcoming the Flowers', John Giorno)

An accident, without sound, extracted from time and expanded, paused, a representation of the other, outside of perspectives, a fictional invisible work that helps illuminate the identification of ourselves, outside of ourselves. An eternal accident where negotiations, of forms and being, constantly take place and all preconceived plans are render useless. A moment of complexity in front of us, larger than us, a moment of liberation. In this prompt moment of silence, pure poetry emerging, a form that makes no sense and has no direct use, but its elegance renders everything right. Constant changes, the lack of definition of the moment - this fluidity of image is what makes the experience functional.A multiple of translations, accurate or not, particle of a totality, contradicting any conscious assertion of origin, or the original; meanings are in vain, no rules capable of supporting anyone’s confusion. When pleasure is not the target, humility and humor are the only alternatives. The accident, a cut in the regularity of our lives, were our world and that of art—and philosophy and existence itself—collide and penetrate each other and energy is transferred through. A cut that is powerful enough to consume us, to hypnotize us away from the tragedy of common life and into a universe more complete. A cut, broken units, multiplicity, totality, the sound of emptiness, fluidity, unconscious paths, the presence of complete wisdom. The reconfiguring of being, a new sculpting of sorts that changes appearances, while remaining the same and affecting the way we see, understand and accept. The acceptance of the transient of being and that of interpretation and identification, appreciation and delivery of a version of the larger story. That is the task of the work. The broken shards of glass, on which Poem for Uselessness is shaped upon, are shadows of the panes used as bases for the fluid patterns that form a big domain of the paintings. The shards, collected from discarded broken glass, have mostly only acted as contingent spaces for the visuality of the paintings to take form; here, incidental free movements of fluids give way to natural formations that are later selected and processed digitally, before being translated to the canvas by small brushstrokes, in a form of post-digital-decompositionism of sorts, a mechanism that helps me access a semantic of visual primitivism via extremely calculated generative procedures. Poem for Uselessness takes this space of contingency to the foreground, the shards become the space of necessity for the work to take effect. Fluidity is renewed symbolic, visually absent, or fully there to the point of flatness, completeness, or emptiness. Words and characters in the most simple geometrical lettering shapes come into the work as counteract for this primitivism — language as the cultural element, developing and defining reason, floats over the darkness. Text which represents language which represents culture, that is or was part of an intact space and that is now broken, or braking and changing the way we read and understand, playing with our competence in finding sense of multiple translations which out of order make no sense, or perhaps more sense, or simply other sense to that which they intended at the source of origin. The task of the work is to test us in front of those changes, to displace us and restore the aversion of the pain of not knowing, through the poetry and beauty of our own confusion.