I Hate Sunday

Before being a series of sculptures, ‘I Hate Sunday’ is a text: the story of an ordinary Sunday and at the same time of all Sundays. It describes the time spent in a normal family, in a normal house, around a table, on a normal day. Even years later, my childhood Sundays seem to me a subspecies of ritual, which involved not only myself but all the members of my family. What I propose to the viewer is to retrace my steps, to come with me to that ordinary house where I used to be on Sundays, as if we were children again. Even though there is no turning back in time; some objects can be used as bridges between past and present, enclosed in powerful symbolism. They allow us to re-enter a dimension that seemed lost precisely because it had passed. It is not enough to remember, memory fades and changes with time. Memory is fragile. Objects, unlike memories, are impregnated with the life of their owners, they preserve it and help to narrate its events; they are the only bearers of an ‘emotional inheritance’ which leads them, in my work, to lose their daily connotation and become precious relics.