If you've found your way here... you're probably a curious person.

The introductory text above these words explains what Cyber_Dives are, but it doesn't explain why they exist.

The truth is that Cyber_Dives were never conceived as an exhibition.

They were born because I lost my sense of smell.

For many years I wanted to stop making objects. For years I've made sculptures, installations, artifacts, electronic parts... and I've also filled my studio with objects. I didn't want to keep accumulating things.

When I make sets and costumes for the theatre, this allows me to continue building objects without having to keep them. It's a healthy way to satisfy that almost physical need to make things. But these commissions aren't very frequent.

Then perfumery appeared.

Perfumery is a fully-fledged artistic discipline. Working with scents is working with memory, with emotions and with a material that has an extraordinary virtue: it disappears. It doesn't take up space. It doesn't accumulate. The result of your work ends up dissolving in the air.

This was exactly what I was looking for: craft, creativity, immateriality.

From then on, I started reading exclusively about scents: history, chemistry, raw materials, technique... Everything revolved around the world of fragrance. I started formulating my own perfumes, a slow, patient process full of frustrations, but also immensely satisfying.

My artistic practice had become entirely devoted to this new sensory universe... Until around 2023, I started to lose my sense of smell.

It wasn't all at once. Bit by bit, I noticed how the olfactory notes that I had previously recognized clearly were disappearing. With the sense of smell, a good part of taste also disappeared. Wine ceased to interest me. Food and cooking too. I found myself adding more and more spices, looking for sensations that I could no longer find.

I did not fall into depression, but into a persistent sadness. That passion that had accompanied me for years was fading and I kept thinking that, one way or another, my sense of smell would eventually return. But time passed and the treatments did not work.

I needed to occupy my head.

I dismantled the perfumery laboratory and turned it into a small robot workshop. I made small figures with found objects, scrap metal, electronic parts and recovered materials. Without realizing it, those robots began to look less and less like robots and more and more like small androids.

At the beginning of 2024 I went to visit my mother. Before leaving she gave me a porcelain female figure with an Art Deco aesthetic, a naked dancer with two jaguars. It wasn't a chryselephantine as such, but it came close enough for me to see reflected in it the fascination with these figures that had accompanied me since my university days.

When I returned home—I remember the moment perfectly—I went into my workshop, unpacked the figure and left it on the table, next to the androids I was building.

Suddenly, I saw it.

For years I had admired original chryselephantine sculptures—those elegant Art Deco figures carved from ivory and bronze. I had seen a couple of them up close in Vic, in a private house. I remember the delicacy of the faces, the fingers, the sensuality of the postures, the combination of bronze and ivory... They were extraordinary objects. I knew that I would probably never have one. There are very few of them, they are part of important collections and today they have an economic value beyond my reach.

That day in my workshop I understood something very simple: if I could never have my chryselephantine, I would have to make it myself.

And it wouldn't be made of bronze or ivory.

It would be made of waste.

Those androids would become female figures. The poses would stop being comical and become elegant. The recycled pieces would begin to coexist with jewelry, impossible hair and a certain diva attitude.

Without realizing it, the Cyber_Dives had just come into being.

Everything that followed was simply work: building a small coherent universe, giving shape to pieces that, without knowing it, had been waiting for their moment for years.

.

As I write this text, it is 2026.

After various medical treatments, I have regained my sense of smell and, bit by bit, I am returning to perfumery. I am studying again, formulating, making mistakes, and starting over.

I don't know if the Cyber_Dives will continue.

Maybe so.

Maybe not.

They were born from a very specific moment in my life, from an unexpected absence and the need to continue creating when it seemed that the path I had found was disappearing.

And that is precisely why the Cyber_Dives exist,

because I lost my sense of smell.