There are objects that don’t seek to be understood. They don’t arrive with the urgency of a purpose, nor are they explained through their utility. Rather, they float in a state of pause, as if functionality had discreetly withdrawn to make room for something else. Something lighter, more open, more uncertain. A temporal space in which categories dissolve and forms stand on their own, inhabiting the terrain where design and art don’t merge, but neither do they repel each other.

There is no intention to disguise what each piece was or could have been. The sculptures, paintings, furniture, and objects coexist without hierarchy, stripped of a closed utility and rigid artistic status, occupying the gallery without imposing themselves. Without decorating or competing. They don’t respond to a closed name or a fixed condition. Forms that recognize each other, while simultaneously arranged as in a shared landscape, where beauty depends not on what something does, but on what it is capable of provoking.

The dialogue between the two bodies of work does not take place in the usual terms of collaboration, but in the patient rhythm of coexistence. The precise and restrained carpentry of one meets the intuitive and organic material of the other. A sum without fusion, where gestures are amplified by contrast. The pieces contaminate each other, moving alongside each other, testing subtle affinities without needing to justify themselves. As if by mixing they could become a little more themselves.

Stripped of their functions, the objects become enigmatic. The chair doesn’t invite you to sit, the surface doesn’t support you, the color doesn’t represent. And yet, everything vibrates. There is no narrative to organize or meaning to decode, but an invitation to perceive from another place. A slower, more porous perception, one that doesn’t seek answers, but rather allows itself to be affected.

What happens when you don’t look is not an absence, but a transformation; a possibility, more than a warning. As if, in the silence of the suspended gaze, the objects briefly abandoned their names, their roles, their functions, and occupied another place. They inhabit the space without claiming it, existing beyond what they can or should do. Thus, the furniture ceases to be a support and becomes a volume, and the sculptures allow themselves to cease supporting a discourse and simply stand.

Here, beauty is neither an ideal form nor a perfect finish. It is what remains when nothing is expected of the object. The gesture that persists even when the function has withdrawn and no longer demands meaning. There is beauty in what is useless, in what does not want to serve. In what insists on remaining, even when no one observes it.

Agustina Bornhoffer

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