While we read, our eyes stop 300 milliseconds in each word, enough to convert strokes into meaning. Then they jump abruptly to the next word. We read like an old typewriter, with a sophisticated and relatively slow mechanisms to scan sequentially, word after word.
Every now and then, the eyes take a shortcut. They jump entire sentences, looking for the future of the text. Or they return to the past, to places that echoed in memory. From the same text each person draws a different pattern, constructs a different story, and reveals which fragments were more relevant, memorable, censored …
“Seen, unseen” is the portrait of this story. Our first work was based on readings of “Histoire de l’oeiul” by Georges Bataille an erotic story, full of tensions, suspense and uncomfortable spaces to gaze. We built two complimentary books that form a sculpture. In one book we extrude everything that has been looked. It is the leftovers of gaze, as if the eyes would have burned what they looked. The second book is the complement, the remaining parts of it that were never looked.
In other works of this collection, Galileo’s moon becomes a perforated papyrus that projects lights and shadows on the wall. Or, different readings of the same poem, become a minimal paper sculpture, revealing in its unique origami form, the signature of a reader’s gaze.
