STATEMENT

In “The days of hours”, I address the theme of existential precariousness and of work experienced as condemnation. At the center of the scene, a naked body — vulnerable, exposed — lies next to a mountain of work clothes, symbols of imposed roles, prefabricated social identities, of the obligations that define daily life. The absence of rebellion or belonging marks a profound rift between being and having to be.

The work stems from a concrete and universal fear: that of living only to accumulate hours, of turning days into mechanical sequences in the service of a system that measures value in productivity, not in meaning or feelings. I convey the sense of disorientation and dehumanization of those who feel forced to choose between economic survival and fidelity to themselves.

The naked subject, stripped of masks and costumes, refuses — or is perhaps not yet ready to wear — what would make him “useful,” integrated, a cog in the machine. It is an act of resistance against the corroding compromise, against a system that rewards adaptation and punishes the unfit.