Morph
Words that will never be said
Echoes of a soul
Inevitable Fate
What needs to come to light
The time has come
A costructive deconstruction
Ruins
Remains
Leftovers, what left is over
What left behind
Unloading
I am not who I was before
Where I was, before I come here
What never was
My broken trust and my stubborn heart
A hovering
An exodus from the vertical axis
A fall
A recovery
The surface is never fine
Forgotten
I pierce the veil of time
What do you dare to desire?
No plan(t)sland DISORDERED UTOPIA, ECO-DYSTOPIAIS REPUGNANCE AND LOATHING OF THE PATTERN A NATURAL RESPONSE?Stavroula implements mannerisms of ordered natural repetition not to depict its utopianallure but rather to create a contrasting dystopian ecosystem; an oxymoron.This approach seeks to evoke mixed feelings and a sense of duality within a space,reflecting the complexity of every entity. The…
Empowering Raw Collaboration Yorgos is not an artist. He participated in the Super Sport «Ψυγεία Ψηλορείτης» project by exploring autonomous, horizontal, and non-commercial fundraising and crowdfunding strategies. Their work is focused on securing resources to support this event and future music and art projects, fostering a community-driven and collaborative spirit.
Languida The audience is invited into a hypnagogic sci-lab, where the elegance of discarded materials is staged. They perform as embryonic creatures. I encountered the performative nature of matter in found objects, seeking to question the anthropocentric gaze of fruition. Collective dreams are released in an intimate space where the spectator’s usually peremptory gaze reformulates,…
Metallic tree planting, revenge of the iron beam. I decided to plant metallic trees with some iron beams i had taken from a demolished building, in this way i wanted to manifest the “revenge of the iron beams”. Instead of the iron to be used as a structure material, it will be presenting itself like…
Asya Birsel and Robert Selim Hill The all-wind gravedigger “Well… the sea does what it wants. They may have all died together, on the same day or night, but the sea probably spat them out in disorder… The sea is like that…You know, my problem is plastic sheeting… I never have enough for all the corpses…”from an interview…
and we headed away from the metro into narrower streets when we took a turn around the corner to the old bus station. The area was a wreck. We took some photos with our phones, spoke about gentrification, lack of government funding for artists and exhibitions we had been to that week. Through the open…
