By Paloma Simón
One of them starred in the exhibition Lost Paradises —a most apt Proustian title— that she recently exhibited in Madrid. A series that consisted of the dollhouse that they gave him when he was six years old and in which he has been working practically until now, and three other spaces that would have delighted the author of In Search of Lost Time. In particular, the one that imitates Mazarrasa's bedroom "when my daughter was little", she explains before an installation that captures the light of that apartment and its views, and on whose nightstand rests a bottle of the perfume she used then: Eau de Orange Green by Hermès. A designer and goldsmith by training, this artist who came to have her jewelry signature and collaborate with the historic Grassy jewelry store leaves no detail to chance or misses an opportunity to show her virtuosity. From the silk screen made with the embroidered fabric of a cushion to the petit point rugs, paintings or ceramics, all made by hand "from furniture and little things that I have," he points out.
Although it goes back to her childhood, it was not until 2019 when, after putting aside her job as a consultant for a large Spanish jewelry firm and moving to the family farm in the south of Spain —where they produce olive oil and ham—, Mazarrasa he gave himself to his vocation. With the pandemic, what at first was going to be a sabbatical year became almost three, and the perfect occasion to dedicate herself to scale replicas of furniture and objects that she began to share on her Instagram, @casa_mazarrasa . Thanks to the networks, his work has caught the attention of The Guardian or the jeweler Jean Prounis, for whom he devised the Palazzo Prunis that was exhibited at the New York headquarters of Dover Street Market, the prestigious multi-brand store of the designer Rei Kawakubo and her husband. , Adrian Joffe.
After completing these projects and his, perhaps, masterpiece, “a dollhouse that could be the one of your dreams. Or, at least, mine”, she points out with a laugh, Mazarrasa is devoted to a model that she restored 15 years ago and, after exhibiting it in a gallery in Valencia, she took to the farm. “There the mice ate it. A family of rodents moved in and destroyed it. They were like English squatters." These particular tenants left traces of their presence in various ways. “There was poop everywhere, but also evidence that they were lying on the beds,” says the artist, whose immediate plans include finishing that house. Mice are invited.
