The robot named Volver Ensí: To come back to one’s self
A black Canon printer that could not print anymore. A broken black and white television that could not catch a signal. A video game console that had overheated because of the company’s incompetence to produce a good heating system. A physics course project that failed to work. Screws. Nails. Pieces and little useless things scattered all over the floor. Collecting dust. Occupying Space. All of these things were meant to be thrown away, but the artista resisted to do so. And for two years, these pieces lay down, unattended, unseen, and forgotten.
One day, the artista decided to sell bread in front of his house. He set up a small and old table. Painted it. Got a table cloth and dressed the table. Baked bread and set up his shop. No one could see that the artista was selling bread because of the huge pink-flowering tree in front of his house. He looked at the forgotten, unseen, and underused things in his home and decided to create something out of it. Something new. Something curious. Something that would make people see the bread stand. Thus, the robot Volver Ensi was born. It took him two months to build it: from a stable wooden skeleton to a superficial armor.
From trash to art.
The robot was a success. The first customer of the artista was a couple who got interested in the robot and even took a selfie with him. From old people, to a modern artist, to a little dancer—all of them noticed the robot and liked him. Of course, the artista sold bread.
We live in a consumerist society that makes short-lived things. We use them. We throw them away. When the item reaches the end of its lifecycle, we call it “waste.” This waste accumulates, taking up space that could be used for other things. We can ignore this consumerist society. We can ignore our own consumerism. We can live in our clean homes, pretending that that trash does not exist in some other place. Or we can realize that this so-called “waste” can still be useful. Broken cooking pots can become planting pots. Old bed cloths can become bags with a little sewing. And useless printers, broken TVs, overheated video game consoles, failed science projects, screws and nails can become an artistic robot that helps its creator sell bread.
I suppose, this is what is called environmental art—sustainable art assemblage.
By Fernando Cifuentes
Please note that opinions expressed are the author’s own. They do not necessarily reflect the views and values of The Blank Page.
