alex sanjurjo rubio
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Alex Sanjurjo Rubio




INTACT is an enormous space covered in mud that the person experiencing the installation must walk through: an immense mire that is watered daily, varying its appearance.

The person passing through this unstable surface is kept in suspense, not knowing whether they will sink deeper than they imagine, and being unsure of this makes them afraid to get dirty or flecked with mud, to end up embarrassed at being dirty. They run the risk of altering what is intact: their own image. The installation is an enormous threat that targets the rigid patterns of conduct we have been brought up with; a stability that when disturbed triggers a series of obsessive behaviours that the person directs all of their attention to, punishing themselves for having allowed such a mistake; angry, impotent reproach that comes from intolerable frustration.

INTACT is a metaphor for the terror of instability, of unbalanced emotions that wash over us at that moment of contrast when we compare ourselves with the immensity we face, the other, that makes us feel small because of its strangeness. Hidden below an apparent beauty of reflections and bucolic pools, behind delicate and subtle lights, is a danger that threatens the intact image of ourselves that we must preserve.


INTACT advises us with its presence that it is impossible to conserve this image unaltered. The folds in the mud, the way it behaves, the organic texture that characterises it give us the impression that it is alive, creating the sensation that it could climb out, even trap us and prevent us from fleeing. Fear of getting ourselves dirty, of stepping into the mud and perceiving how our feet sink, displacing the water in the mud and getting drops of it on ourselves...this is an installation that would attract a child to jump and play in the puddles – an experience that an adult is not allowed, that inhibits him and makes him wary before he even enters it. This is an installation that targets the obsession with preserving everything intact; it reveals the intransigence we have toward ourselves and others, showing our intolerance with frustration and failure,–both of them suffocating sensations that back us into a corner and embarrass us. They humiliate us and sink us still further into a dense fictitious mud.

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