PROSCENIO (La verdad sobre Glowman): Fausto Amundarain

From his studio, someone pauses an HBO episode and looks out the window. Everything

appears raw and implausible on the proscenium. Paintings waiting to be turned surround

him, watching from both sides of the wall. On a table he built himself, scraps of paper, vinyl,

and wood rest on and between its gaps. There stands Fausto Amundarain, a “brilliant” artist who exposes himself and, in uncertain times, contributes to generating reflection through his work—seeking the exothermic reaction of the audience. The one he formulates for himself, the one he shares with his own, and the one he provokes once exhibited—investing in projects that, at times, may not seem to meet certain expectations. Counter forms.

From circle to rectangle and from rectangle to circle, along a walkway filled with almond

trees, the light must be fleeting so as not to dazzle too much. Fausto knows this and keeps

acting—persistent, attentive to what happens, to what unfolds. Because, inside or outside

the spectacle, we all want to feel desired.