Jajajaja

Laughter is rarely sculpted with such physical assertiveness. In this piece, the explosion of humor materializes in a dense, voluptuous, and overflowing bodily mass that defies the supposed severity of the material. Two rotund figures share a fallen log as a seat and surrender to total laughter, their heads tilted back and their mouths wide open. There is absolute abandon in the woman's gesture, with her raised arm cradling the nape of her neck and her emerald-green hair falling in wavy locks, while her companion, dressed in cobalt overalls and a backwards cap, keeps pace with the revelry, his torso leaning towards her.

Concrete, traditionally rough and unyielding, takes on a surprising, supple softness here. The porous surface of the material holds the folds of flesh, the taut corners, and the wrinkles of the face with a tactile solidity brought to life by the oil paint. The chromatic application accentuates this vitality: the white of the summer outfit sprinkled with tiny flowers competes with the electric saturation of blue and yellow in the male attire. Over the skin, the glazes capture earthy nuances and warm glimmers, highlighting the roundness of the limbs and giving the figures an organic warmth unexpected in cast cement.

Arranged in a play of counterweights across the log, the figures trace a dynamic axis of torsions and complicities. The bodies do not pose to please an outside gaze; they support each other in their weight and claim a space of candid intimacy and uninhibited freedom. Outside the sculptured conventions that pursue solemnity or restraint, the work celebrates the festive exuberance of real bodies on a domestic scale, concentrated in less than thirty centimeters of pure presence. It fixes that fleeting moment when joy overcomes composure, making the cast stone seem to vibrate with the resonance of the human voice.