Victoria Giesen
Memories of Luz

I met Luz in Bismark Square in Valparaiso, on an uncomfortable and somewhat desperate hunt for a child on a drizzling autumn afternoon. I found a miraculous pandemic installation of acrobatics in the square and I stayed there watching the little ones playing, luckily when my presence was about to become unbearably uncomfortable and suspicious Luz appeared, disguised as a cat, dazzling and accompanied by her mother, who seemed close, almost familiar.

Our first meeting was incredibly scattered, and I returned somewhat frustrated, not finding what I wanted, a kind of childish delirium. Luckily, I quickly realized I had a mirror in front of me and with the same speed. The young Luz, 6 years old, has become my friend. Between games and conversations barely differentiated our bond has completely transcended the audiovisual work and that, no doubt, became our device.

The recreation of two memories, birth and discussion; the first meeting and the last important disagreement of a family.

Then, the words that were not said and now are being said. We mash the memories with pencils and sounds. We move the space to create another memory, in this one there are new gestures, new words.

I was called Victoria, you were called Luz.

How many desires were born with us, how much faith and love, and how much responsibility to shine.