There is something in Agus Díaz Vázquez’s work that is not meant to be fully understood.

In fact, it works the other way around: first it is felt, and only afterwards, if at all, it is interpreted. From this point, Romería proposes approaching the work not as something to be deciphered, but as something to be moved through.

This way of working is deeply connected to the references within Agus’s universe, where what matters is not what is fully shown, but what is intuited.

In Seda, for example, what is essential is never completely stated, yet it remains constantly present. In El manantial by Federico García Lorca, there is that feeling of recognizing something without being able to explain it, “my heart understands nothing,” which feels very close to the experience of this work.

There are also figures from popular imagination, such as the marimanta, which never fully take on a clear form, yet remain there, generating a presence that is difficult to define.

And then there are two elements that, for me, ultimately hold everything together: the romería and the star.

The romería understood as a path that is followed without a clear destination, but with the certainty that it exists. And the star, in Enrique Morente’s song, not as something that explains the way, but as something that guides without the need for understanding.

From this perspective, the title is not decorative. It is the way in which the entire project is sustained: moving forward without seeing everything, yet continuing all the same.

This allows the work to move away from obvious or descriptive readings and into a space that is more difficult to explain, yet much closer to experience.

Rather than explaining the pieces, what is sought is to open up a way of being in front of them.

Curated by Letma Elvira