In the blurred contours of these amorphous sculptures, what emerges is a temporal dislocation, a sense that the present is encrusted with the residues of something prehuman, posthuman or subhuman, and that in this cracked, sedimented skin lies a truth more durable than polish or precision; these figures, rendered in a viscous blend of clay, earth and defiance, seem not made but unearthed, as if they had always been waiting beneath the surface for a future degraded enough to resemble their origins, suggesting that we are not only heirs of the archaic but its current incarnation, that the monstrous is not outside but within and ongoing, pulsing just beneath the thin crust of progress; this reading situates the work in a lineage that recalls Jean Dubuffet's obsession with texture and primitivism and Georg Baselitz’s commitment to the brute immediacy of form, whereby identity becomes geology, time becomes flesh, and the past is not behind but folded into the now, a coagulated presence that insists: something of us has always been this barro, piedra, mierda, and always will be.
