16/02/2026
Rust becomes skin.
The oxidized sheet metal, cut and braided into small fragments, transforms into a living, fragile, and marked surface. Each square bears a variation of brown, red, gray, almost white tones, like the nuances of skin subjected to depigmentation.
Here, rust is not merely corrosion: it is pigment. It tells the story of time, exposure, and alteration, whether voluntary or imposed. The lighter areas evoke erasure, while the darker parts resist, persist, and assert a memory.
Industrial matter becomes a symbolic body. It speaks of identity transformation, social pressure, and the desire for change. Through this metallic skin, I question depigmentation as an act that is both intimate and collective: a gesture that leaves visible traces, just as rust marks metal.
