Bariloche, Puelo Lake, El Bolson.
Es quel, Nant-y-Fall.
Parque Nacional Los Alerces.
Los Antiguos, Cueva de las Manos.
Estancia La Angostura.
El Chalten.
Argentino Lake, Perito Moreno.
El Calafate.
Estancia Cristina.
Puerto Natales, Pinguinera Seno Otway, Lonsdale flotsam, Ambassador e Amadeo.
Punta Arenas, Porvenir.
Blanco Lake, Estancia Viamonte.
Cabo San Pablo, Desdemona flotsam, Escondido lake.
Estancia Harberton, Ushuaia, Isla H, Isla Alicia.
Roca Lake, Lapataia Bay.
Neither wind, nor sky, nor earth
Ruta 40.

GP (to Giuseppe Penone)

I met him on saturday morning. It was a bare tree in a large garden.
Rome was lying naked and beautiful at his feet. Once there was something higher up above the tree. But whatever it was.. , itwas sunk, leaving a few boulders clutched between the branches.
"Breathing is sculpture as a fingerprint is a pictorial image"
a piece of bark removed from the tree is already transforming.
Copper and pond hide in the ground,
deep down, under the roots.
Wood and bronze.
resin and blood.
all reality is unique.
It's melted.


The collection draws inspiration from one of my most loved travels in Brittany...nature, places, atmosfere...tides...
An impression of matter and of its primitive power, which is a constant in the memory of that earth.


A letter that goes off
2 words that join
2 meanings in 1 Word
2 words that merge.


Scents in the air

RS (to Richard Serra)

Bilbao, Madrid, Rome.
Ellies, boss, Spheres.
Minimal is the time, the least thoughts, the least the city slipping from this azalean stairway.
I use a sheet to force a portion of space inside a volume.
Passes a pair of spouses chased by the photografer. Pigeons fly by a child.
A blast of wind pulls out of my hands the spreading sheet, tugs over the heads of the tourists and plans in the fontain.
I close my eyes. Breathe deeply.
I try to keep intact the vertigo of a smooth and unbreakable labyrinth.