For this piece, I delve into two distinct techniques that have become integral to my creative process.
The first one, which I called “Photopiecing,” involves shooting a vast array of visual elements and building a personal image repository. I photograph characteristic clouds from the Antilles, mountains from the island of Désirade, decapitated trees from the forests of Guadeloupe, residues and food waste of animal origin, endemic vegetation, diverse veils, and fabrics, as well as models representing different racial backgrounds, encompassing both racially diverse individuals and white models. Additionally, I include liquids of varying consistencies in this collection. In the end, over ten thousand photographs were meticulously captured to serve as raw material for this large piece.
The second technique, “Photobending,” demands meticulous cutting and folding of the photographs using Photoshop, carefully preparing them for compositing. Through the cutting process, I extract specific elements from each image, while the folding allows me to arrange and overlap them creatively, resulting in accurate anatomical realism.
The anatomical research traced a tortuous path within my artistic mind. I embarked on exploring the bodies of the Renaissance, often dissected and studied during public autopsies, and juxtaposed them with the contemporary censorship of bruised and mutilated bodies of our time, on the Internet. Initially, this quest sparked a sort of fascination, an eerie allure for the macabre beauty and enigmatic details of the human machinery. But gradually, the exploration turned into an arduous journey, unearthing the darkest aspects of our species.
Each day, I found myself submerged in an ocean of indescribable pixels, bearing witness to the horrors that plague our world. The wars of South American cartels, the scars of countless ongoing civil conflicts as I write these words, all of these abominations beyond comprehension. The hellish of these conflict images shook me to my core. I quickly understood that this experience would leave indelible scars on my soul.
As I sought to replicate the gritty realism of war photographers’ experiences, I found myself amidst unspeakable pixels, knowing that I could never fully recover from that exposure. Yet, the more I tainted my soul, the more my mind became a filter: horror and death should only transpire through a form of unyielding beauty in the final artwork, or else I’d become a monstrous voyeur among many.
A Fair Mirror
Although my depictions of Adam, Eve, and the Simulacrum of God emerged as colonial adversaries, devouring my world and that of my kin for centuries,