With Absence we venture into the forest.
One of those fairy tale forests inhabited by animals and beings that make their way into our collective imagination and who, for centuries, have turned our nights into a stage set for fear, insecurity, and the most unbridled imagination. Inside its boundaries, everything is possible. A place of unmatched ambiguity, its scenes house supposedly unusual events that are rarely resolved within the mind witnessing them.
The forest remains immense, empty, difficult to penetrate, inhospitable and secret, mysterious and magical.
A place “where man abandons all his beliefs, yielding to the uncertainty of destiny. Here, the notion of a forest, as a part of a landscape, ambiguously stands for two separate things at once. It is, on the one hand, a particular physical place and, on the other, it is a figurative representation, a construct of the mind in which the dreams and desires that have made their way inside are participants. Here we are offered an actual forest. This is where our fears, hopes, and desires are hidden. It is a world in which the idea of presence turns absence into a corporeal being.
Absence has now become a black mass whose human or animal silhouette warns us of the real possibility of our desires materializing in one form or another. We are left with the possibility of deciding whether what we see is, was, or will be what we are seeing. Hence, the relation between man and forest is cast within a long running story "a story of looks" in which spectator and scene are directly related and where the subject’s gaze helps to construct the landscape lying right before his or her eyes.