In these collections, the works unfold an intense and meticulously constructed visual universe based on fragmentation. I propose a contemporary look at perception: what seems united disintegrates into grids; the familiar is distorted until it becomes strange. Through the language of mosaic, of layering, and of the deliberate alteration of recognizable forms, these paintings place us in a space of tension between recognition and loss, between lived experience and what slips from memory.
BURUTAL·S They are not a naturalistic representation, but a construction made of autonomous pictorial fragments, each with a texture, gesture, or color that contributes a different piece to the whole, in a grid pattern. However, this landscape is not really a landscape. It is a meditation on the idea of looking. The tree, traditionally a symbol of rooting and growth, becomes a fractured, almost digital structure, forcing the viewer to reconstruct it mentally. The image has become a kind of memory in progress: we do not have access to the whole, only to remnants, traces, layers that have shifted over time. The vertical and horizontal lines not only organize space: they question the unity of the natural world and suggest that even nature is a succession of partial perceptions.
RERAR·S directs this same conceptual operation towards the human figure. Here, the face occupies almost the entire canvas, projecting an immediate but uncomfortably fragmented presence. The viewer recognizes immense eyes – one of them disproportionately large and loaded with detail – exaggerated red lips, an ear that seems almost dislocated, and skin built from a mosaic of squares. These are portraits that play with the expressiveness of the body, but also with its vulnerability: the identity of the figure is not presented as a coherent whole, but as a collage of emotions, gestures, and possible interpretations. Its construction is so fragmented that any attempt to fully understand its expression is interrupted.
The viewer must make a constant effort to put the pieces together, knowing that the result will never be completely stable. The work functions as a metaphor for contemporary identity: fluid, contradictory, always in the process of redefinition.
Both collections share a visual language built on contrast - contrast between colors, between pictorial gestures, between levels of detail and deformation - but they also share a common philosophy. Fragmentation here is not a formalistic exercise, but a way of questioning reality. By dividing it, the artist reveals its multiple layers that make it up. By breaking unity, they open a space for mystery, for the countless, for the attentive gaze.
The combination of pictorial textures and geometric patterns generates a dynamism that keeps the eye in constant motion. It is as if the works suggest that nothing is ever fixed: neither nature, nor the face, nor memory, nor even the painting. Each square, each line, each gesture filled with color is part of a whole that never fully forms, that is always in a state of transformation.
These collections, finally, invite us to reflect on our way of looking at the world. They remind us that what we perceive is only a partial synthesis of a much more complex reality. They invite us to accept the beauty of the fragment, the poetry of rupture, and the possibility that the truth may lie in the imperfect sum of all these pieces.
