To craft a crack, to excavate a wall to see its composition. Below the multiple layers of paint, underneath the dust, there is always a void, a silence.
A train of thought
The gray matter, as a portion of land, is covered with different times strata. Memories, then, are constantly moving as tectonic plates, as traveling flows. These imaginary lands are almost impossible to track. But one remembers anyway, a certain image flickers once in a while.
One looks slow. To stare at something in order to recognize its subtleties. If the eyes look slowly they can describe the ground, the walls. A certain field made of dust, wood, asphalt, or concrete. The gaze reads the space as if it were a document. In order to describe and be specific one must look slowly.
A place (I confess)
One builds a home with strength. To set the foundations; the walls that divide the rooms. One cleans and situates each object in its correct position. One needs some time to get used to a room. Walls seem to stand still; floors seem to hold my weight; but actually, they are as fragile as me. Fissures draw our breaking apart. A demolition in different scales. Homes crumble with ease.
Why do we carry ourselves so stiffly, unbreakable?
A new task
I make marks. I draw. I write. My new task becomes fundamental in order to set the wounds on fire.
About The Artist
Roberto Vega participated in theater and puppetry workshops with La Espada de Madera (Quito, Ecuador) and completed one year of studies at Universidad del Cine in Buenos Aires, Argentina. He received a BFA in Visual Arts from Pontificia Universidad Católica del Ecuador. Roberto worked as a developer assistant in the first edition of Talleres Abiertos Quito. From 2014 to 2016, he worked as an assistant at the research department and in the administrative office of Premio Nacional de Artes Mariano Aguilera at Centro de Arte Contemporáneo de Quito. Currently, he is an MFA Fine Arts candidate at the School of Visual Arts in New York City.
Roberto Vega has been finding architectural debris while he walks around Jersey City and New York City. These pieces of broken or cut panels of drywall, bricks or concrete come from very different sources, but they all share their connection to an origin: a certain space. He looks at these remains very carefully in order to focus on their details: fissures, stains or marks. These features can be an evidence - an indexical evidence - that something happened; someone performed an action on them and an uncertain portion of time affected their matter. Also, there was a significant action which took these features away from their primal site and turned them into detritus. Roberto's principal aim is to respond to their components - to track these traces of time. The last group of images correspond to an intervention made in the old Pfizer building in Brooklyn as part of the exhibition The Map Is Not The Territory in April 2017.
See more of Roberto's work at robertovega.blog.