ROSALBA BUSTAMANTE

CALLIGRAPHY ON WOOD

APRIL 1-30 | 2018

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Rosalba Bustamante writes in images to the sacred inhabitants, the trees. She pays tribute to them, with these series of photographs, aware of their current depredation. The author dispenses with specialized medical practice. She releases her ties with medicine eight years ago to get reacquainted with photography, which she has experienced since she was little, always encouraged by her father's taste for it. She takes it back, embraces it vigorously as her vital occupation, which leads her afterwords to the encounter with her inner, sensitive world without boundaries or limits. With these images she invites us to peer into her intimate, essential world, full of symbolism, tied with the origin: life, mother earth, evolution, death and rebirth. The trees, the woods, superb space, attract her insistently and implacably. The trees seduce her. She leads her gaze, her personal, deep, way of seeing the visual creation right to the frontal contemplation of these millenary beings. Roots sunk in the depths of the ground; tangled intertwined branches propelled towards the light but also to the darkness of the ground. Dancing trunks on the surface near crystalline water. Cavities, ascending and descending. Reflexes captured in unity, in consummate equilibrium. Rosalba Bustamante places herself there, facing nature, in the act of sighting, picturing and meaning. She enters carefully, deepens into the forest cautiously. She takes over silence, order, peace and the beauty of the place. She is there, peaceful, without haste, without confusion, plain. Only light, harmony, matter, form, subtle color, captivating the infinite. Time without time. The author with these aesthetic images, evokes and incites us to see the invisible of the visible; to read the carved signs in the wood; to make contact with the origin, with the creation itself. Not only does Rosalba Bustamante shares her passion for photography with us but she also displays her concern about the preservation of the life of the trees.

— Rosario Camus

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