A framed display with two photos: the left shows a vintage black-and-white dance scene with a man and woman talking, the right shows a glass vase with a bouquet of red roses with scattered rose petals, and handwritten text below reads 'Any lady aroun
Tenderness, 2024
A framed collage of two photographs: on the left, a group of students in uniform walking in a line outdoors with trees and a clear sky; on the right, a bouquet of red roses with blurred lights in the background. Below the photographs, there is handwr
A framed scrapbook with a black and white photo of seven people sitting on a couch and a color photo of red roses below it. Handwritten text beneath the photos reads, "Play the part and promise her the moon."
A framed scrapbook page with two photographs and handwritten notes in between. The top photo shows a family gathering with children and adults, some sitting and some standing, in a room with a table and a pink bicycle in the background. The bottom ph
A framed display with two photographs: on the left, an older man with glasses and gray hair, wearing a white shirt, making a gesture with his hands near his face, outdoors with trees and cars in the background; on the right, a bouquet of red roses ag
A framed collage with a top photograph of a group of people on a cobblestone street, and a bottom close-up of dried pink roses. Handwritten note reads: "Be the cutest guy. They won't even suspect."
A framed collage with a photo of a man holding a baby and a vase with dried flowers, accompanied by handwritten text.
A framed display with a photo of two smiling people, a woman and a man, standing behind a wooden wheel, and a photo of a wilted pink rose on a crumpled satin cloth, with handwritten text below.
A framed display with a black-and-white photograph of a young boy sitting outdoors, and a color photograph of a wilted orange flower with green leaves and dried petals. There is handwritten text below the images.
An art gallery with framed photographs on the wall, two tables with bouquets of roses, and scattered rose petals on the floor.
Close-up of framed photographs hanging on a white wall in an art gallery.
An art gallery with framed photographs hanging on a white wall. Below the photos, a clear glass vase on a small gray table contains wilted, dark purple roses, with some fallen petals and leaves scattered on the table and floor, along with scattered r
Line of framed photographs hanging on a white wall in an art gallery or museum.

In this series of diptychs, I pair photographs from my family archive with new ones taken for this work. I am revisiting the past and possibly rewriting it. By selecting snapshots of my family most taken by family members, I elaborate stories (using fictional layers or assumptions) about the figures and scenes. Most of the images frame lovely family dynamics. However, the feminist, gender, and childhood studies, besides the psychoanalytical process into which I dove over the last ten years, don’t allow me to remember them as just joy or love memories.

Through the years, I found out that violence lives beyond slapping someone in the face. The brutality shows up, especially in the details. It comes in disapproving eyes, threatening, yelling, or even in a sentence with deep emotional impact said through smooth words and in a calm tone of voice. However, those would be camouflaged by chivalry with rose bouquets and love letters.

When I first started this work, I thought of The Professional Rapist as a sort of secret school, where year by year they would coach younger men on ways to do whatever they want without getting caught. They would be so professional that the family and the community, in general, would not even realize they were carrying out acts of gender violence.

Yet, I ended up finding out that The Professional Rapist is a social pact. Generation after generation passes down the culture of rape. New generations come up with new forms of hatred, and even those who don’t practice it accept it.

I put together the photographs and the evolution of a rose bouquet from its blossoming to death. I emulate a family album, placing prints casually on age-like sheets. They result crooked, as we would make at our homes. I take back the story. I rewrite without erasing it.

The Professional Rapist