CORTEX
ABOUT
Exploring the connection between memory and trauma, CORTEX is an immersive video installation by María Silvia Esteve which conjures a labyrinthine forest immersed in a soundscape populated by living organisms.
The starting point for her forthcoming feature-length hybrid documentary MAILIN—based on the story of Mailin Gobbo, who was sexually abused for fifteen years by the priest at her school—CORTEX evokes the atmosphere of a dreamlike forest, as in the telling of a fairy tale, driven by the quest to recover the memory of a forgotten past.
Imagined as a metaphorical vision of an individual’s subconscious, the installation is conceived as a sacred place where memory is transformed into an active organ that is in constant reflection. The different strata of our subconscious are evoked by a play of light and shadow that generates multiple densities and textures. As the forest is gradually engulfed by a dense red mass, the video installation brings about an ambiguous space which emerges from the contrast between light and darkness.
Through the diffuse presence of image and sound, María Silvia Esteve reproduces a metaphor for our own existential questions, generating a strange, hypnotic feeling that confronts visitors with their own existence. Set in a circular space with no spatial or temporal markers, the installation is conceived as a place without boundaries, highlighted by the use of transparent panels that interrupt the linearity of the location.
In this way, the public becomes involved in a sensory space, becoming immersed in the director’s dreamlike, reflective universe.
Now developing two additional spaces to complement the immersive experience, María Silvia Esteve explores the tactile representation of trauma and its impressions on the skin.
CORTEX was presented at the Maison Européenne de la Photographie (MEP) in Paris.
NOTE OF INTENTION
I began this project during a time of profound loss in my life. The pain I was experiencing then was so overwhelming that I needed to exorcise it somehow. Finding it impossible to put it into words, I turned to images and sounds, trying to translate a way of feeling into something visceral, something bodily.
I decided to construct a journey so abstract that it could be interpreted in different ways, a journey with its own narrative, hidden within a force that could pull the viewer inward. This is what I wanted CORTEX to be: that loss, that dialogue between memory, trauma, and the subconscious. That sting in the skin that cannot be described but can only be experienced.


