wood, plasterboard, enamel paint, and halogen lamps


This work began with me seeing an extremely grandiose column center-piece in the restaurant El Pescalito in Avellaneda, Argentina. It was shaped like a hexagon and had halogen lights all over it; it looked like a space ship that might leave this world at any moment. I imagined it beginning to shake and rattle and then suddenly lifting off. I could hardly eat I was so mesmerized. I took a picture to remember it. 

A year later while staying in an old mill in the wilderness with my family, I found the photograph and was again struck by the column's mysterious beauty. I began to build my own version of the column and eventually placed it in the middle of a forest field, completely separating the column from its original context. I then shot a video of my father, hidden behind the structure, steadily rocking the column back and forth to a soundtrack I made, playing from within the structure. The rocking gradually increases in force giving the impression that the structure is about to lift off or explode, but anticlimactically the soundtrack ends and the movements stop. Then my father peaks out from behind the column, seeking my approval.