For me, since my time at the School of Architecture, art has been less an end in itself than a research method: a working process that often produces unforeseen results.

At university, my projects tended to be more artistic than technical, and I was fortunate enough to exhibit one of them at ARCO while I was still completing my studies. In that project, I argued that the entrance to hell was located at the Fountain of the Fallen Angel in El Retiro Park, and I set out to prove it rigorously through plans, technical inspections, tests and found objects collected from the site. Since then, I have continued to build this kind of investigation, poised between technical rigour and experimentation.

I constantly experiment with new techniques and materials, using them to establish connections with other moments in the history of art and to approach the sense of fascination I feel for archaeological objects, for instance. The power of these objects lies not only in their aesthetics but also, crucially, in their history, which is why I try to imbue my works with a more literary dimension, whether by inventing a story, a mysterious origin or a link with artistic tradition and art history.

Through these investigations I arrived at the mesh structures which, once shaped and painted, give rise to very ethereal works, almost like apparitions. This technique allows me to reinterpret and play with works by masters who fascinate me and to create extremely lightweight sculptures that seem to hover in the air.