"Needles" was made between 2019 and 2024, and it is a series with a book of its own. Every picture in this chapter is made with pine needles. Most of what follows is what David Campany wrote in that book, because he says it better than I would.
He called his essay "Needles of the Afternoon", and he admits he is guessing about the hour. "Long afternoons with nothing more to do than play. […] The work evokes solitary creation. An activity seen only by the artist."
He begins not with Txema but with a 1949 book of Picasso's sculptures, and a photograph by Brassaï of what looks like a twig resting on a matchbox. Is that a sculpture by Picasso, or something Brassaï noticed in a corner of the studio and turned into one by photographing it? Campany leaves it open, and this series lives inside that question.
He reaches for Roland Barthes, who wrote that the most human gesture he could think of was striking a match for no reason at all, just to watch a flame live and die between your fingers. You light it when you are alone, when there is time between obligations and play can take over.
Txema is both sculptor and photographer here. The photograph holds each form in place and gives it permanence, and the holding is the work. A needle can be curved and look quite straight from one angle, and sometimes only its shadow gives away the real shape: here the shadow matters as much as the needle.
We opened "Needles" in Anyós on 14 February 2025, and the book was published by RM. In April we took it to AIPAD, at the Park Avenue Armory in New York, our first time there and our first fair in the United States. It was very well received, and prints went into important private collections.
"They know they are mere needles, but for a fraction of a second, they know [they] can resemble ballet dancers, or athletes, or children, or lovers, or lone wanderers."
Three chapters to go.
All ten photographs: "Needles", 2019-2024.
The works shown are available. The gallery is open, as always, by appointment.
