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« Siempre que estemos vivos nos veremos »
« As long as we are alive we will meet again »

Those are the last words Yaïr told me.

We were on the rooftops of the block 11, the fog was all over Caracas, the crazy murmur of the city looked like a mournful chant.

A bullet in my heart. The consciousness he had of his own ending had a terrible and sublime something. All was said. The emergency of life, the fascination of death, the downfall of the country. The extreme violence and the absurdity of the situation gave the impression that life was nothing but a game.

Two days earlier, I recalled of this place called la gallina.

The smell of blood mixed with rhum and sweat, the shouts of rage, the excitement within each and every men. An intangible transe intoxicated the arena as we were all out of control. As if power and blood gave us life again.

The chaotic energy of the city resonated in each fight like a dance unfold, sustainable, helplessly crying.

A month later, Yaïr was shot. He was 27.

In Caracas, I plunged into an ocean of death and ultimate life. The violence of the stories that were told to me, the eminent danger, plunged me in a frightful helplessness. Like these fighting cocks, I saw people dancing and clinging to an unavoidable situation. The analogy was limpid.

It is through an installation mixing photography, video and sound creation that I wish transcribe the suffocation and confinement state of the country.

The use of these three different mediums will allow me to recreate the chaotic atmosphere of Caracas and to give the spectators an immersion in echoing spheres. Built as lifts, each part of the installation will be needed to each other in order to set up the metaphor of fighting with the destiny of these men.

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