INTERFERENCE

Interference is a phenomenon in which two systems overlap, producing at the point of their encounter a third one that cannot be reduced to either of them. It is not a simple sum of two orders, but a new quality that emerges only at the moment of their contact and disappears once the two systems separate. In the case of this exhibition, the first system is the architecture of the gallery: its walls, openings, the rhythm of its rooms, and the lines of sight they establish. The second is a light, modular structure made of cardboard, introduced into the space not in an attempt to replace the architecture, but to pass through it according to its own logic, at times disregarding its divisions and at other times reinforcing them. Where the two orders overlap, interfere with one another, or accidentally begin to cooperate, a third, mutable space emerges: the space in which the exhibition actually takes place, and in which the viewer moves not through one map, but through two superimposed maps at once.

A functional and temporary material, usually associated with transport, storage, and protection, becomes here an element that organises space. Long horizontal planes pass through the architecture independently of its divisions: they run parallel to the walls, reinforce their direction, and establish new, provisional axes of vision. Fragile cardboard, conceived as disposable by nature, is juxtaposed with the permanent concrete structure of the gallery. This encounter itself becomes a form of interference: two materials of radically different status and durability are required, for a moment, to coexist on equal terms.

Within the space imposed by the cardboard structure, objects appear that register the same mechanism on a smaller scale. Their forms evoke fused bones, coral-like growths, or cellular structures: porous, filled with cavities, openings, and irregular protuberances, as though they had emerged through a natural process rather than been shaped by hand. In each of these configurations, the foreign material does not simply lie beside the organic structure, but enters into direct contact with it, occupies its interior, and presses against its edges. It is precisely the same gesture that, on the scale of the exhibition as a whole, the temporary structure performs in relation to the architecture. The objects are interference in miniature: evidence that the phenomenon described at the outset operates at every scale, from the room to the individual volume.

Another level of interference is introduced by the works that neither illustrate the space of the cardboard structure nor the porous objects, but instead enter into dialogue with them on their own terms. They repeat their rhythms, colours, and at times even their formal motifs, yet always with a certain displacement, as though seen through tracing paper. A fragment of a figure that appears to be the central protagonist of one composition may reappear elsewhere as a minor technical component, an element of the background or construction, almost imperceptible. This shift in hierarchy is crucial: nothing in the exhibition has a fixed status. Depending on the context, any element can move into the foreground or recede into the background, only to surface again elsewhere.

The final level of interference unfolds within the act of looking itself. As we move between the exhibition structure and the objects and images it contains, we complete the point at which these three orders meet: the architectural, the material, and the visual. Perception is no longer a neutral medium registering an already completed whole; it becomes yet another system entering into interference with the others. For this reason, none of these elements functions merely as a background. The exhibition exists precisely in these moments of overlap, rather than within any one of its constituent orders taken separately.