The sculpted memorie of paper.

These paper sculptures emerge from a direct engagement with matter.

Paper becomes unstable — softened by paint, brought to a state where it can be pressed, folded, shaped.
It yields, resists, collapses, holds.

The body is fully involved.

The form is not designed.
It is negotiated.

There is a moment where the material remains open — still in motion, still undecided.

Then it fixes.

The surface dries.
The form stabilizes.

Something stops.

Like a movement suddenly held in place.

I return to the sculpture through pigment — throwing, depositing, guiding the blue across its surface.

The color settles into the folds, reveals reliefs, creates depths.

Light begins to circulate.

These works exist in a tension between fragility and structure.

Between what has been shaped and what still seems on the verge of collapsing.

They carry traces of their own making.

Pressures, hesitations, resistances.

Nothing is entirely resolved.

Each sculpture holds a state.

A point where something has taken form, but not without fracture.

The surface appears controlled, yet something escapes.

A slight imbalance.
A disruption.

A memory of the gesture that cannot be fully contained.

These pieces do not represent.

They retain.

They hold fragments — of movement, of contact, of a physical and inner negotiation with matter.

They are not objects.

They are situations.

Spaces where form, memory and instinct intersect.