The Pretender´s Atrezzo 

Fausto Amundarain, May 2026 

I think the show is about the way we use our tools* to disguise ourselves, the way we place ourselves within frames that don’t necessarily fit us. Which, in some way, can be useful. That place where things don’t quite fit and we feel uncomfortable takes us to spaces of conflict and forces us to resolve, to figure things out. 

There is an underlying narrative: people move, run, flee, but it is more comfortable to take refuge in fiction, in a character, and to pretend. We all pretend in some way; we never show everything that we are, and it is only logical—in a normal society you can’t always do so. But it becomes a problem when the character consumes the person and this one disappears. So we have to show who we are sometimes. take the monster for a walk outside the clouds. Take ownership of the things that scare or embarrass us. In a way, doing so is an act of bravery. (I like the idea of the arch as an invitation to do it) 

For me, returning to something as intimate as the childhood drawings my mom carefully saved, those non-specific scribbles, the early “wall paintings” I made in my parents’ house when I was little, is also a kind of inward investigation, one that leaves things exposed and can be seen behind the curtain. It arises from the need to review in order to understand and move on, but to keep present what has once been. 

In Italian, attrezzo can designate any object intended for a specific use, such as tools or utensils. But it is commonly used in film and television (and in advertising), where it refers to the set of objects, props, and movable accessories that appear in a scene and are used by actors or to set the décor. It is fundamental in defining the period, environment, and psychology of the characters. 

The person responsible for managing and placing these during filming is “El atrezzista” (the prop master).