Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
8.75 × 6.12 in
Hand-cut International Currency Collage on Archival Paper
The United States of Venezuela turns the dollar sidewards for reflection. The landscape orientation is familiar stage for authority, by cutting and reshaping it into a portrait format I force that authority to stand up.
To occupy space like a flag, a decree, or a border. The frame still reads United States. Inside it, the body is Venezuelan: fragments of Bolívar banknotes arranged in a spectrum, stiched into the American frame.
This work is composed as a triptych of evidence. On the left, the ornamental rags and patterned color blocks become the first layer of extraction. A cultured reduced to visual textures.
In the middle, the centerpiece stares back at you: inviting, demanding, and cultivating confrontation. A column of eyes, drawn from prominent Venezuelan figures. Some meet your stare directly, others look past you, up, or down.
As the viewer you are placed under inspection, and the history behind those faces becomes unignorable.
On the right, the repeated phrase República Bolivariana de Venezuela multiples like a stamped mark of ownership. An integral piece of identification forced into containment.
The result? A beautiful imperial package. The aesthetic seduction of control, and the violence of being included by force.
8.75 × 6.12 in
Hand-cut International Currency Collage on Archival Paper
The United States of Venezuela turns the dollar sidewards for reflection. The landscape orientation is familiar stage for authority, by cutting and reshaping it into a portrait format I force that authority to stand up.
To occupy space like a flag, a decree, or a border. The frame still reads United States. Inside it, the body is Venezuelan: fragments of Bolívar banknotes arranged in a spectrum, stiched into the American frame.
This work is composed as a triptych of evidence. On the left, the ornamental rags and patterned color blocks become the first layer of extraction. A cultured reduced to visual textures.
In the middle, the centerpiece stares back at you: inviting, demanding, and cultivating confrontation. A column of eyes, drawn from prominent Venezuelan figures. Some meet your stare directly, others look past you, up, or down.
As the viewer you are placed under inspection, and the history behind those faces becomes unignorable.
On the right, the repeated phrase República Bolivariana de Venezuela multiples like a stamped mark of ownership. An integral piece of identification forced into containment.
The result? A beautiful imperial package. The aesthetic seduction of control, and the violence of being included by force.