“What sets us apart [from birds] is not our inclination to ornament space […], but that we divide space.”
Maggie Nelson, The Argonauts
The exhibition space is located at the back of the lobby and is situated in a passageway. It consists of a white wall, not very high, and the surrounding space.
The wall shows the passage of time and hides a bricked-up window. A crack outlines its perimeter, and several other cracks extend from the corners due to the contained tension of the plaster.
The window invites opening.
From the basement, one accesses the frontón (the fronton or Basque pelota court wall). This wall, parallel to the frontispiece, has a glass enclosure. There is, therefore, no rebound wall per se. When the lights are turned off, it reflects what is in front of it, and the white lines of the court can barely be perceived against a black background.
It is like an omen.
The building is configured from cubes. Its structure is therefore predictable, and circulation is intuitive, even on a first visit. In the basement, however, it is easy to get disoriented.
A hallway forms the backbone of this floor: on both sides are doors leading to spacious rooms with varying heights; and, at the end, a unique space with a green floor and a skylight.
During the reconstruction of the building, it was decided to close the frontispiece. This modification must have changed, among other things, the acoustic experience of the space.
Dardara. Durundi. Dirdira… (Vibration. Rumble. Shimmer/Gleam…)
The walls of the frontón show the imprint of the ball’s impact. A cloud of white dots accumulates in the corner, framed by a blue stripe: the intersection of three lines, the meeting of three planes. A wall/window or a window/wall from which to observe, from which to hold.
The relationship between Andrea, Carmen, and Gabriele presents itself to me as a desire to let themselves be touched by the space, to incorporate elements that belong to it, and to become a place themselves.
Their practice manifests a similar quest: through observation, recognition, and intuition, they attempt to unveil a sort of current. They share a sensibility, a way of working that stems from the repetition of a form or gesture, which gradually mutates into variations that articulate a universe of their own.
In some way, their work also echoes the frontón as a physical and symbolic space, and the ball as ritual and aesthetic. This is a sport played with the opponent, not against them. I think there is something of this in the work of all three: a sideways glance, so that the spark does not go out, waiting for what the rebound returns.