Artwork description: Tracing the Lines of Movement: A Personal and Artistic Inquiry into Migration Migration is as old as humanity itself. From early prehistoric movements to contemporary mass flows, history has been shaped by displacements, whether voluntary or forced, that have redefined cultures, territories, and identities. What was once a vital and instinctive act is now subject to visible and invisible restrictions, shaped by borders, documents, and bureaucratic permissions. This tension between a natural impulse and imposed control raises urgent questions about the right to move freely. As an artist who has personally experienced displacement, the subject resonates deeply with me. Yet beyond my individual story, I aim to explore it through a critical and symbolic lens, transforming the migration journey into a visual and conceptual language. From that perspective, this project emerges as a reflection on movement, not only thematically but also through its very structure and materiality. It is a proposal built through light and matter, through what passes and what obstructs, through what moves and what resists. About the Subject – “Motion Without Permission” Migration has been, since the dawn of humanity, a constant throughout history; a natural flow of peoples, civilizations, and species moving in search of better conditions, safety, or simply following a vital impulse. To migrate is, at its core, to move. And to move is to live. As an artist, this subject resonates with me deeply. To achieve my dreams, I crossed the Atlantic; I left one territory behind to inhabit another, carrying not just a body but also a memory, a culture, a history. This is why addressing migration is not merely a theoretical or political exercise — it’s a personal and creative necessity. However, I wish to explore this theme from a specific angle: the right to free movement. Human history is woven through great displacements that have shaped the world as we know it. From the earliest prehistoric movements that expanded humanity across the globe, to the mass migrations of medieval Europe: the barbarian invasions, the expansion of Islam, the formation of the Byzantine Empire. These ancient flows still echo in the routes we travel today. With the beginning of the modern era and the so-called “Age of Discovery,” migration took on a new dimension: the development of navigation enabled millions of people to move across great distances. Europe, in part, emptied out, while new lands, especially in the Americas, were populated, or rather, invaded, through processes that not only redrew political geography but also involved violence, genocide, and dispossession. All this, paradoxically, in the name of a “new world” and a “better quality of life.” In the 20th century, the explosion of transportation and communication technologies further intensified migration on an unprecedented global scale. And it was perhaps at that moment that the bureaucratic logic of movement took hold: visas, passports, residence permits. In other words, we began to regulate what had once been a natural act, an ancestral and even instinctive one. When did we decide that moving freely required permission? Who has the authority to draw those invisible lines that determine who gets to cross and who must stay behind? Today, migration continues to be shaped by borders, restrictions, and control. Many migrants are forced to undertake their journeys through irregular means, facing danger, rejection, and invisibility. In this context, I find it deeply ironic that we rely on what is called a “safe-conduct” to reclaim the right to move, when at one point in time, this was an innate right of all species. Through art, I propose that we reclaim that forgotten right: the right to move without asking permission, to tell our stories of displacement not as exceptions, but as essential expressions of the human experience. Conceiving... Through Glass and Borderlines The conceptual foundation of this project lies in the notion of displacement, explored through the lens of kinetic art. The etymological roots of kinesia and cinesia, from the Greek koesis (movement) and aisthesis (sensation) underscore the profound impact of movement on the human experience, not only physically and sensorially, but also emotionally. Within this framework, kinetic art, which incorporates or makes visible movement, became the most suitable language. The project aimed to reinterpret stained glass beyond its traditional architectural context, transforming it into a dynamic, relief-based structure inspired by 19th-century architecture’s integration of glass and iron. The resulting work evoked motion through its tiered composition, contrasting elevations, and references to optical-kinetic aesthetics. A central element of the project involved light projections from engraved or painted glass surfaces, whose appearance varied according to the sun’s position. The work was conceived for installation in a public, sunlit, high-traffic space, encouraging viewers to walk through it. This spatial interaction reinforced the metaphor of light as a force that traverses and transcends barriers, light as a symbol of hope. The title, Salvoconducto (safe-conduct), alludes simultaneously to the idea of symbolic freedom of movement and to a literal passage through the structure. This project became part of my second-year presentation at CERFAV. To demonstrate the project’s feasibility, I first presented a prototype constructed in wood, a more practical choice given my technical limitations. This preliminary version helped validate the concept, paving the way for the final structure, which employed aluminum bars assembled using PETG 3D-printed joints. The exposed metal frame referenced the U.S. Mexico border wall, symbolizing the restrictions on migration faced by many. ARTISTIC APPROACH : “No border can be crossed without sacrifice; we always leave something behind.” Safe-Conduct is an installation composed of eleven autonomous modules positioned at varying angles, creating a visual rhythm that evokes motion through the language of optical-kinetic art. Atop each module rests a glass panel featuring grisaille painting, derived from photographic sequences enhanced with chronophotography to amplify the sensation of movement. The installation reflects on the universal right to freedom of movement. Its exposed structure recalls the vast border wall separating the United States and Mexico, a powerful symbol of the barriers that prevent thousands of Latin Americans from exercising their inherent right to migrate. Migration, like the flow of water, is a natural force, inevitable and unstoppable. As the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda once wrote: “They can cut all the flowers, but they cannot stop the spring.”