The tightrope walker balances over the precipice, risking life and limb as he walks over the thinnest of threads. They are not actors; rather, they relive what is essentially their life away from the wire. We are all tightrope walkers, though some more than others. Whether we are aware of it or not, we are all balanced on the edge. That is what they are trying to tell us.
Their walks are as fleeting as life itself. Life depends on one thin wire and on keeping our load balanced. A writer once said that we shouldn’t use the expression “to be hanging on”. We believe that you cannot look at a tightrope walker without seeing the void under him and his struggle with his load as a confrontation with death. Otherwise, what’s the point of witnessing this kafkian heroe who has chosen to search for beauty in this extreme gesture of desperation and madness?
Author: Javier Bermejo. Made by: PICO PAO
41 × 12.5 × 5 cm
MDF wood and beech colored wood
Poplar wood and MDF wood
The triangle is the polygon with the fewest number of sides that can be made with straight lines. It is also the most elementary polygon, the primary polygonal unit, the proto-cell with which we can cover an entire flat surface and form all other possible geometric figures.
What makes the Pentaminos fascinating is its initial simplicity, so different from the ennigmas and problems described below. Unlike a 1000-piece puzzle, which has a single solution, the Pentaminos, while consisting of only 12 pieces, has thousands of possible solutions.
Altogether there are twelve different Pentaminos, each designated by a different letter of the alphabet: (F, I, L, N, P, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z). Pentaminos obtained by joining others at their axis or by rotation are not considered to be ‘different’ Pentaminos.
The game of the arches could also be called the game of strokes. Each piece is a line that can make drawings in the air, i.e. three-dimensional drawings. Drawing lines in the air and marveling at the forms that are created, pushing the boundaries of balance, interpreting the unexpected abstract and figurative forms that emerge... this is what the game consists of.
Is it an inanimate object or is there something in it that gives it life? Could it be that he reminds us of the messenger boy, the newspaper vendor, the shoeshine or the apprentice of any number of jobs – one who depends on his arms and legs to carry out these menial jobs in order to scrape by? Where does our sympathy for an object come from? Where do our emotions spring from -weak and subtle as they may be – where if not from the emotions of life itself and the spirit that animates it?