Lejos de mañana. Cachito Vallés
Press release
OLD MAN. - (carefully) One must remember towards tomorrow.
YOUNG MAN. - (engrossed) Towards tomorrow!
YOUNG MAN. - (engrossed) Towards tomorrow!
Federico García Lorca
When Five Years Pass
Cachito, do you remember when we were overwhelmed by time? We were always running late and time slipped through our fingers. We had no idea how to think about reality without time, and were barely even able to say what it was, apart from the experience of reality itself.
Was it some condition of our mind that predated objects? Or did it consist in the few events we managed to witness and predict, imposing their rhythm on the many others that escaped all parameters? It was surely the agonising division scanned by the infinite. The possibility of stopping at every step while something tied things to their being. Not in time. Outside it.
We were not able to imagine it other than divided into fractions, ourselves being no more than a fraction. And given that, in addition to intelligibility, we also needed meaning, we invented two paths to channel its designs, one going backward and the other forward.
All this happened or will happen. It has been put on hold in this limbo where I am writing. “Far from tomorrow”, as you called in back then, but not much nearer to yesterday and, even still, with one foot in both realms, I propose remembering something that has not happened yet. That is perhaps why I am deliberately confounding works and emplacements. I am reminded, for instance, that I am going to start talking about the latter, but as Heraclitus “the obscure” from Ephesus had already said, the road up and the road down are one and the same. In these rooms, made of ups and downs, we are going to go up to the end before going down to the beginning and then, finally, stop halfway.
_José Miguel Pereñíguez