Photography, text

Serie of 14 photographs, 7 texts and a flower vase with white flowers

Silver gelatin on Ilford paper

Photos: 21x29cm,  Text: 10.5x29cm



Correspondences, has as starting point a letter addressed to Carmencita Franco (daughter of the Spanish dictator Francisco Franco) during the years of the Spanish Civil War (1936 - 1939), from a girl of her same age, asking her to please do not shoot her father at the Camp de la Bota field. As expected, the letter never arrived to Carmencita and the father of the girl was shot.

The letters that never reached their destinations, the correspondence and messaging process, the mail, the postcards, are the main concepts that make up the skeleton of the Correspondences project.

Which proposes a series of letters and postcards from different years, that I searched during 2018 in Lima’s (Perú) post Offices. Then I decided to deliver them one by one to the addresses that appeared on the back, and wrote also my personal information (address, full name and zip code) so that the person who receives the letter has the possibility to answer to me if he/she wants.

Therefore, the project is materialized through the documentation of each of the deliveries I made of each letter on their respective address. That is, fourteen photographs (two per address) where you see a door and the letter-postcard on the floor, on the step of the door that belongs to it.

Finally, Correspondences, proposes, as a part of the final installation, the incorporation of a bouquet of white flowers inside a flower vase. Which is placed next to the piece the first day of public exhibition of the project, until the flowers wilt. Later, they are replaced with other new bouquet of white flowers and so on until the last day of the exhibition. In order to show and evidenciate the past of time in that space and it’s constant change.

Correspondences, recovers one of the oldest communication systems, the postal mail, it’s a gesture of resistance to loss, of the need to measure time and “see” how it happens (the flowers) and passes through us, and at the same time it’s a refuse to the lineality of to time rescuing what was believed lost.