Terminal architectures , 2020/2021

Latex, glycerin soap, beeswax, vegetable wax, paraffin, foam, silicone, rosin, plaster.

Bodies move. Cities breathe. Individuals circulate. The city sheds its skin. To propose an investigation of the body in post-capitalist society involves inserting it into a circuit of flows, thinking of it as a machine through which a series of material and affective surpluses circulate, which, in the same way that they flow through our arteries and organs, drain through the channels and conduits through which our waste travels.

Excerpt from the text Terminal Architectures by Jesús Alcaide

COPY. LATEX. I imagine you as a building element. Standardized in size, between one and a half and two meters long (or the length of the mouth-to-anus tube). Your inlet connects to the faucet; your outlet, to the toilet's trap. Thousands of devices like you are part of this network that begins in a stream and flows, unfinished, into the Atlantic Ocean. Inside you flows the clear water that went down to the reservoir, was channeled through the canal, rose chlorinated to the tank, and circulated under the asphalt until it rose to be expelled under pressure through a copper pipe when you turned on the tap, while you kissed the faucet with your lips as you drank straight from the bottle. You are a cyborg connected to a colossal network of conduits that urbanize what lies beyond the city. You are a disproportionate Frankenstein the size of Gaia; what you expelled you have already drunk and is part of the molecules that compose you and with which you have intervened in the world.

Excerpt from the text "Holes in Hollow Materials" by Paula G. Masedo