Marie y Augusta:
We don’t have a shared theme; what unites us is our mutual understanding in the act of creation.
Augusta:
Once we begin working with the material, we both set concepts aside and allow ourselves to be guided
by our life impulses and by the discovery of our works through their making.
Marie:
We connect through our relationship to the raw creative process. This joint project we’re presenting in
Madrid is about what it means to be artists in relation to our respective mediums… but it also speaks
of our actions, our mutual support, our intimacy, our discussions, our exchanges, our past and future
stories… of sisterhood too, of connection, of materiality…
Augusta y Marie:
It’s so powerful.
Augusta:
I see our works gathered together like a forest, creating pathways, depths, and proximities between
them… I imagine a dance of shadow and light, of colors and threads, swaying in the air like a mobile.
Marie:
Suspended…
Offset…
I’d like to work with space as if it were a weave—something that can be cut and picked up again, like a
conversation. The gallery space becomes the language of our dialogue, where our works can collide
with one another through their formats. They will create a new space as they step away from the walls.
Augusta:
To me, a painting is above all three-dimensional, and I would like to present them suspended in the air,
held by threads. That way, all of their aspects would be revealed—just like your weavings.
Marie:
Yes. I think it’s important to show the raw side, the process.
Augusta:
The raw side, yes… I understand. I have a strong relationship with linen when I paint. It must retain its
own language despite the layers of pigment that dress it. A painting is as much the sum of the materials
that compose it as it is the image that emerges on its surface.
Marie:
I work with a grid technique for my inner tubes. I see it as a weaving alphabet, a rewriting of narrative
through the language of patterns. These weavings will have one painted side, and one raw side.
The light that reflects off the copper—that’s what gives the work its life.

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This is a fragment from one of the many conversations that form the foundation of Dialogue on copper threads, the first joint exhibition of Marie Hazard and Augusta Lardy Micheli—a long-anticipated collaboration now realized at Belmonte. The friendship that unites both artists becomes an invisible thread running through the exhibition, its energy saturating the space.
We are presented with a vibrant, dynamic installation that steps away from the walls. The works unfold throughout the space, allowing for observation from multiple angles and revealing a deliberate effort to provide the viewer with broader visual access and more layers of information. Movement is suggested by the changing natural light in the room, which casts shadows, creates reflections, and expands the chromatic range of the works, as well as by the circulating air that gently sets the suspended pieces into motion.
Contrast, or the juxtaposition of elements, can be understood as a key to interpreting several of the works in the exhibition. We see this, for example, in pieces that combine copper threads and inner tubes, where the opposition is evident in form (the delicacy of the copper thread versus the toughness of synthetic rubber), in color (the warm, luminous copper versus the matte black rubber—which, at times, the artist has painted with oil sticks to reflect light), and finally, in the origin of the materials: clearly industrial in the case of the rubber, versus the mineral nature of the noble metal. Another example of contrasts appears in the tapestry Boro Boro, handcrafted by the artist using paper, polyester, and linen. It forms a grid within which two woven images represent photographs of the artist’s own hands, evoking perhaps the manual origin of artisanal practice. This play of layers and meanings constitutes not only a weaving of materials but also of disciplines, media, and concepts.

In the series of four copper plates, we again encounter a fusion of materials, techniques, and disciplines. Here, copper serves as a surface for the development of photographs using UVA rays from tanning beds—another instance of the natural meeting the mechanical. The oxidation process reveals botanical motifs, which are then highlighted with layers of transparent paint. In this case, it is the technique and the material support that reveal the significance of the time involved in creating the image, as well as the value of the captured moment, previously fixed through photography. From that point on, the image remains imprinted on a living material—copper—which, over time, will develop its own patina, altering and enriching both its appearance and meaning.
Another symbolic moment captured in metal appears in the crocheted flowers made of copper thread—a handcrafted sculptural piece that functions as both a replica and a tribute to a gesture of friendship. This work aims not only to preserve that moment, but also to extend it in time as an expression of gratitude for that bond.
Gesture can also be considered another key through which to interpret the exhibition. In the case of the oil paintings on linen, it becomes clear how the fabric absorbs the oil, and one senses how the brushstroke avoids painting over what has already been painted, in order to reveal the relationship between the materials. Ultimately, the act of visually exposing the linen beneath the paint allows the material to be more than just a support—its presence adds meaning and becomes an integral part of the work.
And this, in essence, is a shared and inherent aspect of Marie and Augusta’s artistic practice: the materials they use lie at the core of their discourse—through them, they construct their language, and through them, they tell us their story.

Text by Gema Melgar