Old discarded books and natural materials, 
as individual objects or in installations. 
Ongoing since 1992

Ecoglyphs are signs of hope that embody a poetic perception of nature, in particular of its sublime uniqueness and inexhaustible diversity, but also of its extreme vulnerability.

An ecoglyph consists of two basic elements: natural materials and a book printed in Fraktur font. Nowadays, since people can barely read this "fractured" typeface, it is considered almost "extinct." Books in Fraktur end up as waste paper or on the rummage tables of flea markets.

When a book is leafed through, it opens up in successive double pages, which offer intimate spaces of ever-changing meaning. In an ecoglyph, one of these rooms remains fixed and exposed, and the wide-open pages are penetrated by the natural material that creates the glyphs. Nature invades culture, and culture welcomes it with open arms. In this "house" or oikos – an ancient Greek term from which the prefix "eco" is derived – a miniature world is configured out of a myriad of possible perspectives and meanings. The old, organic-looking font frames the arborescent glyphs and enters into dialog with them. Sometimes one believes to recognize characters of different languages in the delicate structures of twigs and natural material, suggesting a possibility of decipherment.

Although the act of perforating the pages of a book may be seen as an attack on the meaning and validity of the certainties it contains, it is only apparently a disrespectful action. Each created ecoglyph is an attempt to rethink and revalue the conflicting relationship between culture and nature.

As ecoglyph, the printed book – a medium originally invented to reproduce and disseminate statements and truths, undergoes a reversal of its purpose and becomes unique, like the fragment of nature that nests in it and the underlying creative process.