The Skin Remembers: Paula Blanco | Alejandro Co | Blannim
Every surface is a witness; every fragment carries the echo of what once was
Skin absorbs time, holds traces of what has passed, and carries the echo of every touch.
The Skin Remembers brings together three young artists, Paula Blanco, Alejandro Co, and Blannim (Blanca Nieto), who, from different sensibilities and geographies, approach matter as a living body that feels, remembers, and speaks. In their work, fragility becomes language, and the ephemeral endures.
Paula Blanco (Oviedo, 1996) begins from constant experimentation with materials and processes. A graduate in Fine Arts from the University of Salamanca, she has developed her own language through fiberglass — a translucent, lightweight material that allows her to build structures suspended between sculpture and the organic. In her practice, matter and light converse; transparency breathes, and the landscape takes form as presence.
Alejandro Co (Havana, 1997) works with fire as both instrument and metaphor. Trained at the San Alejandro Academy and active between Cuba and Spain, his work transforms pages of dictionaries into living ruins of language. What burns does not disappear; it becomes residue, symbol, and trace. In his pieces, ash preserves memory — an archaeology of what once was, a meditation on loss and transformation.
Blannim (Blanca Nieto) (Salamanca, 1991) weaves emotion and precision into a deeply personal language. Her work unfolds through fabric, color, and thread, exploring the texture of memory itself. Each mark, each glaze, each stitch is a fragment of time; a way of holding what fades. In her universe, the visible and the invisible interlace, creating a tapestry of light and silence where memory finds its form.
In the hands of these three artists, matter ceases to be inert. It becomes thought, feeling, and testimony. The Skin Remembers invites us to sense the world through its materials; to understand that every surface keeps the imprint of time, and that within each fold, each wound, and each shimmer, something still breathes, still remembers.

