Light is often the ally of
art. It points out. It plays. It is the goal. Here it is returned to the status of matter. Now the light is an ink that prints the
paper and sculpts it, makes it porous, gives it by its
lines and its points the anti-thickness of lace, the fragility of the rescued manuscript, which allows the
artwork, once it was created, to live and go beyond. The light passes through the imprint and forms the chronology, not a frieze, but dark circles announcing the interstices of a rough weather like an unpredictable water.
The gesture is delegated to the tool certainly, but the programmed tool is sometimes constrained, slowed and diverted. From these accidents a noise arises without dialogue between the tool and the hand that guides it. There is a contemporary gesture that is emerging, in what is most enduring about the contemporary.
