If just one of the many alien objects that Aveta con- structs had to be singled out or if we were obliged to indicate one alone, we would undoubtedly have to point to his installation Océano (Ocean).

The retroactive manifesto underlying all of his series is evident there, in the artifact that rocks under an imaginary Atlantic without ever go- ing anywhere, a gutted piano with its separated soul on the bow and the sad light that accompa- nies its interminable, syncopated sway, back and forth. This shipwrecked piano speaks of objects’ solitude and of our trip to nowhere. It speaks as it should—without words, barely voicing decrepit notes that never cease, hypnotizing listeners—of our incoercible destiny as migrants on this world’s most forgotten seas.