The Same Way a Light Sound takes its title from the 1931 poem Como leve sonido by exiled Spanish poet Luis Cernuda, whose meditation on longing, loss, and unfulfilled desire resonates deeply within this sculptural installation. Written for Cernuda’s lover, Serafín Fernández Ferro, the poem speaks to the ache of separation and the inexorable pull of yearning. The poem was later included in Cernuda’s 1934 collection Donde habite el olvido («Where Oblivion Dwells»), which explores themes of memory, absence, and the passage of time. The red ‘s’ forming a snake on the original book cover becomes an emblem of the tension between desire and absence—emotions that echo within the materiality of this work.

The installation comprises nine fragmented glass forms, thoroughly handmade from annealed float glass. Severed, struck, or gently pierced, pieces are reassembled through a labor-intensive process of stitching and gluing. Horsehair is woven through the fissures, offering a tactile counterpoint to the material’s inherent fragility. This process of dissection and reassembly mirrors the emotional complexities of rupture and repair. Glass, both broken and whole, becomes a metaphor for disintegration and renewal, suggesting that from destruction, regeneration can emerge, though never fully complete.

The inclusion of horsehair imbues the work with a visceral, almost human quality. It physically rebinds the glass fragments, suggesting an intimate connection between body and material—fragile yet enduring. Through this interplay of fragility and strength, The Same Way a Light Sound invites the viewer to reflect on the potential for healing through fragmentation. The reassembly of the shattered forms suggests that beauty does not emerge from wholeness, but from the vulnerability and resilience of what is broken.

Overall, the installation engages with the threshold between dissolution and repair, offering a meditation on trauma, regeneration, and the beauty of imperfection.