​After several years working in architecture, I began to apply architectural software into art projects. This allowed me to create quickly, and make multiple versions of one composition by changing its colors and dimensions, with no two printings being exactly alike. However, the final product didn't result from the application of a formula, but was carefully crafted by hand one bit at a time: The brush was replaced by the mouse in an expression of digital craftsmanship.


​The visual constructions resulting from my experimentation with the computer demonstrate the intermediate position where I stand between art and architecture, they show an ambiguous halfway point between the flat image and the three-dimensional space, as is shown in my series: Things that Are Not (2010), Calicata (2015), and Glassworks (2018).


But I consider my work a form of communication, a form of expression outside of the written and verbal. Time and place, the self and the other, history and future, these all play a role in the making of an image, and the work of an artist is his chronicle of the time in which he lives.

My series: Displaced Highlands (2014), Cinturas Peruanas (2016), and Andean Tensions (2020), make a reference to the pre-Hispanic culture of my hometown, Peru; while more recent works like: Stars & Angels (2017), This Is Not A Pipeline (2018), Thoughts & Prayers (2018), and A Man's Word (2019), speak of the reality that I faced since I emigrated to the United States.

Stars & Angels 



This is the first series that I made after moving to the United States, it came out as a result of my long walks in Los Angeles, Hollywood and Santa Monica, where I took pictures of what I observed along the way, deranged people, amputated veterans, drug addicts, white and black people, wandering the streets, carrying their belongings in supermarket trolleys, sleeping on trains and sidewalks, using a piece of cardboard as a bed, and a shabby tent as a shelter.

In these visual constructions, pictures of old Hollywood movie stars are deconstructed. In some cases, their faces are wiped out, in others, their silhouettes are outlined with borders, segmenting the composition like territories on a map.

Inhabiting these territories, floating, multiplied, arranged as dancers from a Busby Berkeley choreography, are the sleeping bodies of the homeless.

A Man’s Word 


This is a project made following a public call for an outdoor mural. Having heard the testimony of Christine Blasey Ford and remembering that of Anita Hill, I sought to expose the image of my body to the effects of the print being outside in the street. The act of rising a hand or both is depicted as a sign for swearing as well as for being arrested.


Expulsion from Paradise



I started this project being photographed myself, posing without any intention of representation. Later, I found, in a group of selected images, that the body language I used could be translated into three different characters: the attacker, the attacked, and the savior, spinning alltogether within a cycle of rejection and acceptance.