Bodies move. Cities breathe. Individuals circulate. The city sheds its skin. Investigating on 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 passes.

 

Terminal Architectures (fragment). Jesús Alcaide

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COPY. LATEX. I imagine you as a building material. Standardised in size, between one and a half and two metres long (or the length of the mouth-anus tube). Your inlet is coupled to the mouth of the tap, your outlet to the toilet siphon. Thousands of devices like you form part of this grid that begins in a stream and is discharged, endlessly, into the Atlantic Ocean. Inside you circulates clean water that flowed down to the dam, was guided along a canal, rose chlorinated to the reservoir and circulated under the asphalt until brought up under pressure through a copper pipe when you turned on the key, as you kissed the tap while drinking directly from it. You are a cyborg connected to a huge network of pipes that urbanise what lies beyond the city. You are an imbalanced Frankenstein the size of Gaia; what you discharged you have already drunk and now forms part of the molecules that compose you and with which you have intervened on the world. 

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Hollows in hollow materials. Paula G. Masedo

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Project funded by Ayudas Creación INJUVE and Arranz-Bravo Foundation