[…] When someone steps out into the street, they know they are doing so as an actor facing their own stage. First come the silhouettes, the reflections, and then the shadows, like in a theatre, the absence of light to see, because the spotlight is on the person themself, on us. And then we become mannequins, objects; we become just one more of the many forgotten pieces in a shop window. For in shop windows objects are displayed, but they are also forgotten, and with forgetting, darkness covers everything and memory disappears: the hairdressers disappear, the lace-makers, the old instruments, the little knives for whittling, the trusses; the toys and dolls disappear, the dogs and cats, the clocks, the articulated hands, the necklaces, the bare hangers. […]

Javier Ortega