In Under the stars , the expectation of wonderful is associated with the crudest objectivity. The stars appear here as if clichés of the evocation of metaphysics. When they appear in their graphic stylization, and when they are images that become things, these stars appear threateningly sharp, blunt. A shooting star is, in fact, a meteorite. And, if it has the graphic shape of a star, it will certainly see its war potential substantially increased. The song from the video Under the stars, appears as the soundtrack of the exhibition that multiplies on: screens where, in places where the stars stick like daggers, these give rise to the birth of other realities; drawings that explore their conceptual virtualities of the very idea of ​​drawing, facing the expectation of creativity in the visual arts as a readymade to explore, objects where representations of faces are pricked by magic wands that limit themselves to violently express their materiality.
And the song Under the stars, in the shamelessly tender way as the stars refer, more than associating art with the beautiful, associates it with the beautiful, in an excessive familiarity that makes any pretense of metaphysics impossible. Under the stars I found a star that asked me where to go – in fact we can no longer orient ourselves by the stars if they don’t even know where they are – Under the stars I found a star lost in space. More than the stars of Under the stars, this exhibition explores the condition of who, like us, is beneath them. In a universe where images are reinterpreted, where metaphysics denies itself by being tactile, material, what could be a strongly deceptive attitude mainly explores the charm of this condition. And nothing better than celebrating the end of metaphysics with a song. In the abstraction of the melody, there can be nothing more metaphysical than the end of metaphysics.
– António Olaio