Boxes are ancient.

Boxes have been used to hold the precious objects of a civilization, dreams, mysteries, a sacred passage.

I have worked with boxes since the early 1990s, predominantly found items, old weathered boxes, discarded vessels void of utility. 

At about the same time I started collecting discarded boxes, I was introduced to thin film technology – the fusing of thin metallic films on a substrate in a vacuum, a process developed for the aerospace industry and research into the physics of light. I experimented with these two vastly different materials, fusing their disparate cultures. 

Discarded objects constitute a major element in my practice. I’m very comfortable using that language. A few years ago, in addition to old boxes, I started using old weathered fence boards. With a history of approximately 50 years, the old boards contain a different dialect than old discarded boxes; not an entirely new word set or structure, yet a distinctly different character and voice. 

I fabricate my own boxes from these incredibly beautiful pieces of wood - decades-old fence boards, and century-old barnwood. The boxes are simple, geometric shapes, which form visually immersive spaces. The new boxes I’m making are made from very old wood, a natural material richly layered in decades of history, the history embedded in the raw material, as well as, human history. I integrate their language with the vast vocabulary of space, building on simple ideas as an entry into the greater concepts of the universe. 

I have simplified the objects, reducing the basic structure of the box by utilizing raw industrial materials, referencing a different time and place. The combination of raw steel and dichroic glass evokes a temporal shift in space.

The contemplative nature of the boxes capture an uncharted journey through space over time. The spaces are transformative, introspective, expansive, ephemeral. They remind us to take the time to observe the little things, the small spaces between us, which keep us connected to the universe.

Juan Rojas Aguilar 2018

Glass