The DREAMBOXES' creation process
I am on the plane, from Rio to Venice, and I have the weird sensation of having
left Brazil without leaving.
Six months between walls, seeing from my window 1000 different windows...
what a limited world!
As we have no idea of the future, I became super active in the present.
I built what I called DREAMBOXES, and these little boxes saved me. Art saves.
They are small, some even tiny, intimate, but generous in what they offered
me. I felt boxed in at home and so, within the microcosm of the boxes I was
able to create a dimension of freedom.
How do you make a bird happy in a cage? I discovered a way. Between the
creation of my first and last little boxes, a little bird built its nest on a plant
directly outside my living room window, and then suddenly abandoned it. A
month later it returned, adding small details whose meaning was not evident.
Perhaps to better welcome its mate; create a more attractive nook; protect
against the elements. The owner of this beautiful nest didn't like to be
photographed... admired, yes, but never photographed.
In perfect synchrony with this precious little bird, I constructed nests, or, more
precisely, niches. My space of freedom was only boxes. Yet, that did not stop
me from dreaming.
I did not want to change the appearance of the external walls: boxes were,
boxes will be. Collected over the years, most of them coming from Japan, a
country of unique packaging, made with care... but they were still mere paper
or wooden boxes. As the days went by, I began to fill them with emotions and
secrets--in every little corner.
Out of need, the first one was filled with trees, simulating a small forest to
make me breathe. In the second one there was a bridge or a ladder, at the
choice of the viewer—the passage from one place to another.
The boxes made me travel and there were so many journeys. Farewell boxes,
welcome boxes, organic boxes, architecture boxes, city boxes, an aerial
tramway to the sky, a couple of chromosomes, and even a tribute to Frida
Khalo. Of course, I wanted to invite people to enter with me into these
ambiences—to share in my dreams.
So do come, join in, you are welcome. They are available for anyone who
wants to enjoy them. To me, they have a scent and the journey they propose
has an indefinite duration. Sometimes I imagine that someone can get lost in a
tiny box and never come back.
Life is beautiful. All of us should re-learn innocence, we do need it.
A year has passed and, after seeing a play by Robert Wilson in Venice, the
boxes demanded little human beings. Made of white plastic, like ghosts, they
show an unsettling sense of introspection and loneliness. I called them "The
Loners' Boxes”. We were almost over the pandemic and then a war broke out
within Europe burdening our thoughts with ominous threats and terrible
memories of past conflicts.
Who knows what will come next? I am not very optimistic. War, nationalism,
political polarization, income inequality, and climate change cloud my sky. But,
I choose to keep on making boxes, building dreams. Who knows if you, dear
reader, spectator or art lover, will find in these landscapes the refuge and
freedom that I found?
Hugs from obsessive creator of DREAMBOXES,