I do not paint glaciers.
I work on their condition.
A glacier is not a fixed form. It is accumulation, pressure, displacement. A body that seems stable, but is in constant transformation.
That instability is the starting point.
Painting is organized from there.
There is no prior drawing. There is no image to represent. The form is not defined in advance. It appears from superposition, from density, from the tension between layers.
The material does not cover.
It filters.
The surface does not contain.
It lets through.
Light is not applied.
It pierces through.
In that system, painting stops functioning as an image and begins to behave like a body. Something that has thickness, that responds to light, that changes according to the environment.
The work is not the same at every moment.
It modifies itself.
And in that modification a different temporality appears. Not that of the instant, but that of the process. That of something that forms slowly and also loses itself.
Latent Glacier does not seek to represent a landscape.
It works on an experience.
An experience of instability.
Of something that seems solid, but is in motion. Of something that sustains itself, but at the same time transforms.
At that point, painting stops fixing.
It begins to behave like an open system.
A field where matter, light, and time operate at the same level.
Without hierarchies.
Without closure.
In constant transformation.