Fragmentation does not change an object but merely deforms it, just as time does not modify space, only its perception. Everything is relative and varies depending on the observer’s point of view, hiding or revealing, in the same way that speed warps by compressing its surroundings. We always want to apply a measurement to every concept in order to better understand that particular form, but is 100 kilometres per hour the same as 28 metres per second? They are actually synonymous, but there seems to be a certain difference in how we read them. With 28 metres per second, we can read velocity better; we can imagine that large space momentarily invaded by an object that crosses it and continues on its way, leaving only a ripple of air, a tiny vibration on a double wave or a flash of light that pierces the darkness of night.

28 metres per second is the distance we travel each time we face the endless stretch of a motorway, and those spaces compressed between the roadside barriers are consigned to oblivion, where the second seems insignificant and that place appears to have been conceived only for nothing to happen in it.

The catalog that accompanies the exhibition contains the texts of Francisco Javier Sánchez Martínez and this project is tutored by Álvaro Albaladejo.