Celebrated for their exotic allure and purported medicinal properties, bezoars get their name from the Arabic word“badzehr” or the Persian word “panzehr,” both of which mean “counterpoison” or “antidote”. Whereas this was their primary use in the Arabic world, in various parts of the Americas they were cherished as talismans symbolising wealth and protection for herds, as well as ensuring success for hunters. These transcultural stones were harvested from camelids in the Andean region and, being highly sought-after items in cabinets of curiosities owned by Europe’s elite in the Reinassance period, soon became one of the precious elements extracted from the Americas to be traded abroad. They were also cherished and used ritually in different parts of Asia and North America. It is at least surprising that so many cultures around the world perceived these concretions as magical and treasured them for different reasons in line with their cosmovisions.

By diving into a series of sources such as Renaissance medical texts, historical records, essays, and museum collections, I have been collecting information on these stones that I then use to work on drawings and ultimately sculptures made in porcelain or stoneware, adorned with gold luster and various glazes collected from places I’ve inhabited. Slowly, I have been assembling my own collection of these allegedly magical concretions inspired by the most notable of these that can still be found in public and private collections. Many of the latter are on dis- play in various European museums, which are where bezoars – uprooted and detached from their attributed uses – have been kept to this day. 

︎ Commute



A man twists his soaking blue scarf on a rainy winter day. The drops of water shine and shake on the floor.

(Tuesday, 10am, Bethnal Green)

A collaboration with Caterina Gabelli, Alessandro Calabrese and Federico Clavarino staged on April 2021 in Milan. 


︎Wounds (2020-2022)