El Cuaderno de Concepción nº9 is a compilation of twenty-two visual pieces conceived in the artist’s style of stitching together unfinished impressions and sensations. The individual pieces compose a whole that offers us a stroll around some of the artist’s most pressing concerns: identity, the weight of existing, and feelings.
On this occasion, the individual pieces, rather than small closed stories, are closer to secrets, riddles, strategies, instructions... which, scented with freshness and irony, are offered to the spectator for her to complete them. The function of these “games”, as the author himself has called them, is “to provoke floods; to paint, build islands and throw them into the sea, especially Great Britain; to escape the mental asylums; to paint, and then erase, lines on the sky; to make doves fly; to inhabit enchanted houses; to build bridges in the middle of the sea...” Fragments that, like the ingredients of a cooking recipe or of a magic potion, are given to the spectator for her to consider, and think about the artist’s suggestions for living in terms of her own nourishment.
The format of the video is again somewhere between a diary in progress and an instruction manual, with an extremely varied formal repertoire sourced in an unlimited imagination: animation drawn shot by shot, filmed images, visual collages, words, sounds, graphics... using the latest edition tools in post-production, while at the same time, holding on to a notion of editing as a solitary and handmade practice.
Even though they could be considered a celebration of life and its contrasts, the series of pieces distills a nostalgic view of existence, a sweet-and-sour halo that drifts between opposites: from autism to extroversion. The director becomes a meditative observer who draws and notes with the camera, and who seems addicted to melancholy.