Despicable notes on this morning
assemblagesvariable dimensions
2019

exhibition view
ArtRio 2019 — programa BRASIL CONTEMPORÂNEO / curated by Bernardo Mosqueira
photograph by Pat Kilgore
A series of assemblages made from domestic objects, ordinary material, cloths, differentelements displaced from their conventional use. Abstract compositions which have their meanings introduced by their titles. They seek to negotiate in these rough days a dialoguebetween the horror presented by the news and the wish to find joy in brief comments ofeveryday live.

180 x 200 cm

Panelaço
luminous panel, fabric, plastic, leather, rope domestic utencils, asphalt, acrylic pain
and embroidery on plastic net and blanket
180 x 200 cm

fabric, plastic, leather, mousetrap, paint, metal and rope on polyester
140 x 240 cm

fabric, leather and rope on rug
60 x 85 cm

plastic, rope, beads, mousetrap, paint and lead on plastic net
80 x 90 cm

leather, rope, thread and lead on plastic net
100 x 120 cm

fabric, leather, rope and electric wire on plastic net
70 x 130 cm

Dear Good Citizens,
We agree that from now on nobody sleeps peacefully and even our dreams, if any, will be turbulent and dark.
We guarantee for ourselves the greatest commitment to hope, this great traitor, since we have the hunger for the desert beasts and our time will always be now, now and now.
In these uneasy days, desire and irreverence will be our main combat strategies, and with our big mouths we’ll spit out blades and wet kisses to anyone. Still on desire, we gonna excavate the most exuberant manifestations of life, and joy, however silly, will emerge as heroine from where least expected.
We know that dying is easy, but we have no rush. Also we don’t have whereto fall dead because tiredness is a luxury we can’t afford. We will surely fallalong the way, but in each fall we gonna cause trouble and mess, stainingthe traffic and ordinary life with our blood. Despite all fears, our dreams grow in proportion to our will to fight and love. Our bed always welcomes onemore else.
text by Randolpho Lamonier