Pentavision

Looking at a screen has never been exactly the same as looking at the world. Between the two lies a surface that frames, selects, and transforms what appears before us. For decades, television was one of the places where this mediation occurred every day: an illuminated window within the house through which news, fictions, advertising, distant events, and possible ways of understanding reality arrived.

Pentavisión takes this condition of the screen as a device of perception as its starting point.

In the works, the image does not appear as a continuous field but as a fragmented construction, traversed by different viewpoints, frames, and layers that coexist within a single surface. Fragmentation does not seek to reconstruct a complete image. On the contrary, I am interested in preserving the tension between the parts: what we see, what remains hidden, and what our own gaze attempts to complete.

Television thus appears not only as an apparatus but as a structure that organizes vision. Its boundaries determine what enters the frame and what remains outside; its surface brings together images from different times and places and presents them as though they belonged to the same present.

Watercolor introduces a contradiction into that logic. Against the speed and repetition characteristic of the electronic image, each fragment is constructed slowly, through layers of pigment and water. An image originally intended to appear and disappear within seconds is held still on paper.

In Pentavisión, looking also means recognizing the mechanisms that make the gaze possible. The screen does not disappear behind the image: it remains there, reminding us that all vision is constructed.