I didn't know much about photography at the time — I can't pretend to know much about it today either –, and in spite of the fact that I had a wonderful old Zeiss camera — which my father never stop praising –, I wasn't able to do it the honors it deserved.
As I remember, mastering the light was the hardest part, especially because I had just a small bedside lamp, and that I had the great idea of providing color to the sets by using colored plastic papers as filters. Of course, most of the time, that lead to unsatisfying shots — sometimes too much color, sometimes too little, sometimes too much light, sometimes not enough. Nevertheless, I was proud of the results, as I still am today.
I spent three months working on this project. Every free hour I had I would close myself in my room to wade among styrofoam boards, pins, papers and pencils. I wouldn't stop drawing, cutting, assembling, reading and writing in frenzy. I never ceased to amaze myself in my quest for little objects and in finding ways to transform them into my models.
Julio Cortazar was among my most beloved “creators” when I was a teenager, and his novels and short stories were, and still are, a rich source of inspiration to me; and yet I don't remember how I came up with the idea for such a project.
I remember reading the novel for a second time, and I was surprised how different the narrative seemed from the first reading. I understood then that I had grown up, that I had matured, and that maturity had opened another level of understanding. I discovered at that very moment that I was no longer a teenager.
Those three months were the lonelinest, but also the most profitable months of my creative life, and here are the results. Please, be kind with the “young me”.