Gold is born in the collapse of a supernova, in the heart of a stellar explosion that scatters this metal across space. On Earth, it is found in its pure state, forming nuggets and alluvial deposits in the planet’s crust.
(Fig. 02)
The Saint Ursula casket is a reliquary measuring 87 x 33 x 91 cm, made of carved and gilded wood, with oil-painted panels depicting scenes from the story of Saint Ursula, by Hans Memling. It dates to around 1489.
(Fig. 03)
The batihoja Manuel Giraldo in 1997.
Its extraordinary malleability allows it to be transformed into sheets as thin as bacteria.
Throughout history, its radiance has been synonymous with power and stability, serving as a pillar of monetary systems that represented a wealth both material and eternal: crowns, coins, relics, and temples. With gold’s detachment from the global economy and the rise of speculative finance, digital currencies, and volatile markets, its glow persists as a reflection of a time when value had a solid, tangible, and material foundation.
In art and architecture, gold is never applied as a true pigment—because it isn’t one. What we perceive as golden paint is, in fact, a suspension of microscopic metal particles, incapable of dissolving or blending. This material particularity reinforces its symbolic charge: gold does not absorb, it reflects.
