As indicated by the title itself [which means “Fractured Field, SOS”] the work bears relation with an appeal for help. The code sequence SOS is written in Braille, which would involve the sense of touch to decode the points in relief. The artist makes use of steel studs used as signals on fl oors to warn visually impaired people about obstacles. The change in the scale of the signs, to a size much larger than our body can reach, prevents them from being read in a continuous movement and, thus, it is as though the words could never be understood.
A tactile fl oor designed as a horizontal surface has been placed vertically, giving rise to an inversion of the coordinates for spatial orientation, which can cause vertigo. And, in fact, the mirrored environment envelops and enthralls the viewers who pass
through the museum corridor. Our gaze is attracted in spiralingn movements to the interior of imaginary and stunning spaces.
The images create a sort of landscape constructed with photographs of minerals, which are mixed with pictures of grids and fragments of labyrinthine architectures. Through the manipulation of digital images, it is as if we were fl ying over landscapes converted into fossils that condense diverse time periods, or if we were looking down on a land in ruins, a devastated world. The lines of the photographed stone bear the idea of fracture, of the collapse of nature and of culture.
The framed photographic montages are opaque, they contrast with the glossy background, but are part of a dystopian setting.
The elements which point towards the idea of the future are treated by the artist as something already sedimented, as petrifi ed waste from the past. Instead of a promise of happiness, of a belief in a better world, the work seems to address a state of collapse
and the impossibility of salvation.