The origin of his visual practice is rooted in his work as an architect, drawing from that discipline various concepts of composition and representation techniques. He also spent several years designing television sets and working as an art director in commercial film production.

As an artist, he researches and develops audiovisual projects of a performative and audio-reactive nature, whose diverse—even diametrically opposed—facets all pass through a common filter in their visualization, design, and morphology, using machines, digital media, and computers.

His most direct influences come from Abstract Expressionism, from the gestures of Robert Motherwell, the landscapes of Rothko, the fragments of Kenneth Kemble, and the Minimalism of artists such as Judd, Ando, Sakamoto, and Carsten Nicolai.

Calligraphy

Calligraphy, as an aesthetic discipline and builder of written understanding, reveals our being, our pulse, sense of order, and—why not—also our level of anxiety.

It is considered a distinctive expression of human evolution. The more we advance, the more we communicate. It should be impossible then, with such a degree of advancement, to have any problems with comprehension or understanding. But fortunately, languages (and expressions), and we—the people exercising authorship over discourse—generate the necessary anomalies in the system so that the richness of complexity can emerge, producing errors and new questions.

I’ve always had bad handwriting, little patience, and I feel that when I leave the imprint of ink on paper, time does nothing but slip through my hands.

In digital audiovisual media, I found a cure for that anxiety—the creation of a looped piece makes that time always return to me, and in a new cycle, it can mutate, grow, and become more complex by overdubbing layer upon layer of that same original expression.

The “font” or original typeface of the piece is multiple. Geometric form prevails, architectural order, functional composition (even when there is no function beyond contemplation), mathematical orders applied to the algorithms that will become images—and overlaid on that prior “rationality,” I discovered in the organic and random nature of photography and street video recording a new, dynamic and imperfect layer (I love blurry photos) that adds richness and another level of interpretation or understanding.

Oftentimes, an additive quality is generated—the layers overlap and create a murmur, as if in a United Nations auditorium everyone were speaking in all languages at once. The interesting—and sometimes opposite—effect is that, in this stacking of images, situations of “wear” can occur (like a photocopy of a photocopy…), where new, unexpected textures appear as a result of the accumulation of light or shadows.

As a result of these multiple operations, clear communication is an illusion pursued by many but achieved by few—it requires an interpreter. “Bad handwriting” generates a new language.

In this play of mirrors and shadows, the challenge lies in deciphering the evident hidden beneath the veil of the obvious. Clarity is revealed not on the surface of the image, but in the depths of observation and empathy.

Only then, in the silence between the lines of this “text,” can we grasp the true message.