Essays

#01

This is a creative process made in collaboration with one of my brothers, Santiago Benvenuto, and I emphasize the fact that he is my brother because there is something that has connected us since childhood—something intrinsic that helps sustain our joint creations as the years go by. With Santi, we used to sleep in separate rooms, but right next to each other, and on weekends, we’d knock on the wall to see if we were awake and ready for another adventure with our brother Tomi.

My room was my sanctuary, the birthplace of my first creations.

I had drawings on the walls, collages on the mirrors, and probably my twin brothers were the ones I photographed the most.

Then things changed, and it was Santi who started capturing me in photographs and videos.

Having introduced this, I’ll continue sharing more about this and other projects we’ve collaborated on over the past years. In the 'Projects' section, you can find the 'Celeste' project and Essay #2, where our creative journey is a shared endeavor.

Time slips through our fingers, undulating like dry, thirsty skin, dark waters taking the shape of smoke, pressure – tongue – mouth – damp earth, mornings, breath,

what comes first?

I exhale, making space for the air that enters, expanding and contracting, I hold back, what words can I not say today?

Words, we gather our vocabulary, combine elements that allowed us to play with this ebb and flow, moving forward only to retreat. With the camera, we seek to do things that real life would not permit.

Visual experiments.

#02

One day, we gathered to listen to music, sharing artists with each other, and I introduced my brother to the music of Uruguayan artist Helen Olhausen, who, besides being my friend, is one of my favorite local artists. Her voice takes me to other galaxies, connecting me with my inner strength. By chance, she had some unreleased tracks that she had composed, which didn’t belong to any of her songs—they were more like sketches, experiments. When I shared them with Santi, he said: 'I want to do something with this.' Within weeks, he had already chosen a place where he wanted to film me dancing. Santi often tells me: 'You do your thing, and I’ll film you.'

One winter day, we went to Solymar, to our mother’s house near the beach. We woke up at 5 a.m., and it was still dark. I asked Santi if we could listen to that song by Helen on loop in the car until we reached the location, and that’s exactly what we did. Without words, we were harmonizing for what lay ahead.

There was no script; together, we created a choreography. Santi, with his camera, danced beside me while I moved to the rhythm of the music that played in my head.