Pablo Agma

A 16mm portrait of actress Paz de la Huerta, evoking the faded glamour of old cinema. A deteriorated film featuring a Rita Hayworth–type woman trapped in time.

The figure of the warrior, embodying universal values, is inverted and simplified, oscillating between opposites. Light and shadow exchange places to reveal a new outline from the same symbolic configuration. By removing the battlefield from the image, warlike gestures are revealed as dance, and the archetypal masculinity becomes blurred.

Gestated in the fibers of environmental exploitation and the gears of capitalist machinery, the wooden man emerges as a personification of the fears and complexities of our era. We witness fragments of his existence in a film disguised as a defective and forgotten VHS tape, documenting a solitary struggle for survival in a world that both creates and rejects its own monsters. A recording of a performative intervention in public space, where the artist himself embodies a contemporary monster. Cloaked in a minimalist disguise, his presence disrupts the city's rhythm, creating small circuit breaks in the perception of passersby.

A luminous ceremony in which the film abandons the limits of the screen and, amid fire and smoke, desire and sin are celebrated. The projectionist assumes the role of the altar boy, transforming the act of projection into a ritual gesture: the image becomes a confession, and the cinema room, a space of passage and liberation. Thereby, the codes of the mass are rewritten from a queer and critical perspective.