“If you would open me up” speaks of liminal spaces, where two states coexist as stratified bodies:  day and night, decline and vitality. It is an art installation where human identity blends with that of the landscape. The in-betweens are dense, the twilights are filled with sounds and smells, with depths that occupy a body that feels it all, a small temporary element in a thousand-year-old orchestration.

Will all these things that get through me remain in me? If you opened me up, what would you find there? A starry night where the sounds of animals fill the space, miles of labdanum and their resin that intoxicates my breath, a colony of snails, marble dust, the intensity that slips between my fingers. Will I also leave a trace in this landscape? Will this place remember me?

This work is a living memory, the result of events that have occurred on silk, human footprints and everything that makes a landscape.

First comes the harvest: labdanum, wild fennel, oak branches, lichen, wild orchid. Then the preparation of natural inks (bark, leaves, roots, small parasitic insects, earth and metals). The plants are then dipped in the color bath and placed on the ground, on the silk fabric, itself soaked in water. The plant leaves its mark, it diffuses the color, its sharp contours fade, its presence grows while it also loses its definition. Organic colors are alive, they continue to develop and interact with each other on the fabric. It seems the plant live on through its pigments, as if the vital substance had come out of its vehicle to express itself with another medium. As for me, my movements are not predetermined, it is the plant in my hand, the colors that unfold on the silk that inform my gestures: a choreography suggested by the dialogue between my body and that of the plant.

Here everything is understood as a ritual, the work that I create on the fabric is the counter-proposal of a lived experience. This process is repeated on several sections of silk, each representing a different psychic and phenomenological impression.

The fabrics are then hung from the ceiling, arranged vertically and staggered, offering an almost sacred dimension to the installation that shows the body as the sum of fluctuating events between the outside and the inside.

When I was a child, we had a large illustrated book on the human body at home. Each page, transparent and superimposable on the others, represented the different systems that make up our body. The skin, then the other organs, the nervous and vascular system. In the same way, through this installation, the body is presented as a planar, somatic and psychological projection. A place built by layers, of Rorschach identities, whose liminal spaces are discovered. We thus travel inside ourselves, a subtle and cosmic body, floating around without a beginning or an end.