Aurea originated from a much larger project inspired by the landscapes of the surrealist artist Max Ernst. Throughout our career, we have often created bodies of work that pay homage to artists we admire, from Tom Wesselmann in Galatea to the chiaroscuro masters in our Still Lifes series.

For this project, we spent time along a river collecting plants, stones and other natural elements that we later photographed in the studio. At the beginning, we weren't entirely sure where the process would lead us, so we documented everything extensively, producing more than two thousand photographs.

As the work developed, we realised the material was leading in two different directions. One became a direct tribute to Max Ernst, a project we are currently completing. The other evolved into Aurea. While the connection to Ernst remains present in its dreamlike atmosphere, Aurea gradually found its own voice, becoming less about homage and more about creating landscapes that feel suspended between memory, imagination and time.

There’s a division of labour, although after so many years the boundaries have become more fluid. We brainstorm every project together, and most ideas emerge through conversation rather than from either one of us individually.

Our different backgrounds continue to be an advantage. David's experience in design and Jaime's background in photography often lead us to look at the same problem from different angles. That exchange tends to make the creative process richer and more unexpected.

Over time, we have each learned a great deal from the other, so we occasionally step into each other's territory, but always with mutual trust and respect for each other's expertise.

We are usually both present. Collecting material is an important part of the creative process because it is often where the ideas begin to take shape.

When one of us finds something interesting, we immediately show it to the other. We discuss whether it has potential, how it might function within the image, and whether it contributes to the visual language of the project. It is a very collaborative process built around constant conversation and shared decision-making.

Colour plays a major role, but it is really the combination of several elements. The aged fabrics we use as backgrounds contribute a sense of history and memory, while the textures of the plants help remove the images from any specific place or time.

We are interested in creating landscapes that feel familiar but impossible to locate. The muted palette, the weathered surfaces and the layering of natural and artificial elements all contribute to that sensation of something ancient, as if the image belonged to a forgotten memory rather than a real landscape.

The fabrication is absolutely part of the point. On our website we describe our work as "visually rich" and "realistic but categorically non- real," which perhaps captures the contradiction we are interested in.

The images are heavily constructed, yet every element originates from something we have physically found, photographed or experienced. In that sense, the process is artificial, but the emotional response is genuine.

We are not trying to deceive the viewer into believing the landscapes are real. Instead, we hope to create believable spaces that feel emotionally truthful, even while they clearly belong to the realm of invention.

Aurea is not intended as a direct commentary on memory, although memory inevitably finds its way into the work.

The project began from a visual and aesthetic impulse rather than a conceptual one. However, every image we create is influenced by places we have seen, artworks we admire, stories we have heard and dreams we have had. Those references become mixed together during the creative process in much the same way that memories do.

So while Aurea is primarily an aesthetic exploration, it is also shaped by the imperfect and subjective nature of remembering and imagining.