In Lame the surface stops being the background and becomes an event.
A plane bends, cuts, moves away from the wall just enough to generate a shadow, a tension, a minimal but decisive void.

The gesture is clear, controlled, almost surgical.
Matter is shaped not by addition, but by subtraction and discard: what matters is not the mass, but the imperceptible difference between what is left and what is left behind. It is at this threshold that the work is born.

Light is called to complete the form.
It slides along the folds, stops on the edges, and thickens in the cavities. Each variation in light transforms the bas-relief into a temporal field, where space changes without moving.

Lame does not represent, does not tell, does not decorate.
It acts like a silent cut in the continuity of the plane, a controlled wound that makes the hidden depth of the surface visible.

These are works to be passed through slowly, allowing the eye to follow the rhythm of the inclinations and shadows.
They don't ask for interpretation, but attention.
They are not looking for centrality, but precision.

In Lame , the wall becomes architecture reduced to the essentials:
a measure of light, matter and silence.