RAM, 2026
Ai generated video 2”20’
part of 4 solo exhibition
Under the numerology of death—with 4 as a cursed number—the exhibition operates as an artifact of spectral specularity.
Here, the juvenile body is fungible matter within an economy of cannibalistic violence. Under the thesis of broken sovereignty, the Tropa del Infierno—an armed wing nourished by Mexican childhood and youth—orchestrates a radical dehumanization, sustained by the promise of materialistic, hedonic well-being. It is the cult of high status: spilled bottles of Dom Pérignon, motorcycles, and corridos echoing in the void.
The mirror stands as a technology capable of sustaining the gaze upon atrocity. Within this reflection, Juanito Pistolas—a child hitman decapitated in 2019—is invoked as a specter trapped in the Bardo of Becoming. The frost is not climatic; it is ontological. It is the prophecy of a reincarnation into the lower realms described in Buddhism, an ignored tragedy sculpted in resin and glass where Cioran's anguish—the trouble with being born—collides with the artist's memories of depersonalization.
Amidst ants futilely climbing the trophic chain and processors dreaming of digital rams, 4 is a cenotaph for what should never have been born and what refuses to die.
Tumbas al azar ランダムな墓, 2023
independent exhibition
Ōi-Keibajō, Tokyo, JP
Echoing the legend of Hōichi the Earless—the blind musician condemned to recite epic tales of slaughter before the tormented spirits of the Heike clan—the exhibition invokes the phantoms of this contemporary war. Narco-culture and its narratives resonate like an incantation where singing of atrocity is a desperate attempt to appease the specters caught in the crossfire.
Operating as a monument between living and dying, this independent exhibition, created alongside María Isas, turns the grounds of a Tokyo market into a site to confront the very nature of all hopes and fears.
Emerging from the artists' walks through the city, the tombs (haka) materialize through an assemblage of recovered cardboard boxes, found items, and Japanese fabrics. These nomadic mausoleums operate as altars adorned with offerings and Xerox prints that reveal the faces of young people trapped and crushed by the weight of systemic violence. Accompanying this funerary landscape, digital paintings produced through a hybridization of clay and printing processes converge, presenting an exercise that explores transformation techniques and the latent tension between the digital dimension and physical matter.
The concept of the tumbado is stripped of its hedonic aura to reveal itself as an ontological condition of the felled body. The thousands of deaths of young people accumulate as war tales in a landscape of broken sovereignty, where a machinery of violence anesthetizes the tragedy with poisoned promises.
Amidst this abyss of depersonalization and violence, the work articulates a radical hope: a plea for truncated lives and an aesthetic effort to rescue their memory from the absolute void.
Trampa, 2026
Cardboard, cotton rope, recovered textiles, acrylic, PETG, PLA, organic remains, epoxy resin, and video. Variable dimensions 5' 36"
Covered in quilted textiles, lace, and ornamental surfaces, the funerary volumes abandon their lapidary rigidity to approach the domestic and the habitable. In Trampa, the act of dressing shifts away from the body toward the object and the space, which are simultaneously monuments.
The implications of a dressed body, whether living or inanimate, entail the protection of its surfaces; to cover implies transforming the perception of that which is wrapped. By displacing the everyday habit of sheltering onto stone, it transfers the physical and intimate memory of the textile residue to the space of loss.
The solemnity of mourning is intercepted by the scale of domesticity. Through a semiotics of care, the piece crosses a threshold between altar and furniture; thus, dressing a mortuary monument strips tragedy of its anonymous condition.
2, 2025
Futura, Mexico City, MX
This installation and its accompanying video piece arise from a collaboration between María Isas and Mauricio Orozco, acting simultaneously as an act of offering and a practice of confrontation. It is not solely about remembering the dead, but rather about examining the conditions that produce certain deaths and the ways in which these continue to operate on living bodies.
The installation is structured around two tombs, conceived as ritual architectures inspired by the Japanese haka: offering spaces that sustain an active relationship with memory. Each tomb is explicitly dedicated to a personal tragedy. Both cases are approached from the understanding that violence in Mexico is systemic, transversal, and deeply intimate.
The tombs are organized based on a masculine/feminine duality. Inside each one, there are niches with miniature scenes that function as symbolic dioramas: a boy fishing on an oil barrel, a robotic AI agent holding a baby, legs that evoke memories of a melodrama of abuse. These images condense social and personal experiences where childhood, abandonment, violence, and intimacy overlap. Furthermore, both artists appear as characters performing the trade of cremators, incinerating their own desires and fears alongside.
The materials—cardboard, Japanese textiles, lace, resin—insist on an aesthetic of fragility and simplicity, distancing themselves from funerary monumentality. They evoke domestic mourning, the affective labor historically associated with the feminine, and the persistence of the gesture to protect, even when there is no promise of reparation.
“2, 2025” is a video that takes the form of a poem inspired by the Buddhist practice of chöd: a symbolic surrender of the body and identity as a strategy to dismantle the illusory self and, in this case, the artist's authorship. Created using generative tools, the video is situated within the context of violence in Mexico, where childhood and youth are intersected by dynamics of early criminalization, forced disappearance, and systematic methods of annihilating bodies. This audiovisual poem does not celebrate loss; it celebrates the impossibility of fixing life in place and the inexhaustible continuity of experience.
Tumba, 2025
Lowgee, Seoul, KR
Located in the Gangnam district of Seoul, this latest iteration of the tomb series created with María Isas transforms recycled street coolers into sacred receptacles of memory. By stripping these discarded urban containers of their utilitarian purpose, the installation bridges hypermodern city life with ancient rituals of remembrance.
Inside, two intimate dioramas reveal miniature universes that intertwine technological advancement with profound human vulnerability. These scenes challenge viewers with speculative questions—such as whether humanoid entities could ever operate as mothers—prompting a critical dialogue on what we desperately attempt to preserve against the relentless passage of time.
This ritual space acquires a deeply personal dimension, as it is explicitly dedicated to the death anniversary of Isas's sister. Rejecting traditional funerary monumentality, the sculpture functions as an affective artifact designed to reflect on loss, offering, and the unbreakable bonds of sisterhood. Ultimately, the installation does not seek to close the wound of absence but instead builds a temporary refuge for grief, reminding us that the acts of mothering, caring, and remembering transcend both biological and technological boundaries.
Exhibition proposal
This exhibition proposal unfolds as a hypnotic sanctuary where matter dissolves into the glare of the virtual. Through an installation of large-format screens, the work articulates an archaeology of the continuous present.
Within these luminous monoliths converge surreal vignettes that explore the psyche and aesthetics of contemporary youth culture. The visual landscape is an ecosystem saturated with hyper-modern and subcultural stimuli: cybernetic deities, industrial goth aesthetics, and still lifes composed of vapes and empty cans floating in the void. Yet, behind this hyper-stimulating surface, it operates as an intimate diary. Fragments of personal memories intertwine with oneiric worlds, creating a latent tension between the fragility of organic memory and the cold alienation of the digital landscape.
Projected in infinite loops, these scenes inhabit a state of purgatory, a spectral repetition that mirrors the anxiety, fears, and self-absorption of a generation trapped between screens. Accompanying the flow of these animations, a series of poems is integrated into the work. These texts operate not merely as a narrative thread, but as lyrical incantations: silent pleas of vulnerability into the frigid abyss of cyberspace.