Found street-posters from New York City and mulberry paper sliced and woven, acrylic paint.
73” x 48.5”
“Whether Armilla is like this because it is unfinished, or because it has been demolished, whether the cause is some enchantment or only a whim, I do not know. The fact remains that it has no walls, no ceilings, no floors: it has nothing that makes it seem a city, except the water-pipes that rise vertically where the houses should be and spread out horizontally where the floors should be be: a forest of pipes that end in taps, showers, sprouts, overflows. Against the sky a lavabo’s white stands out, or a bathtub, or some other porcelain, like late fruit still hanging from the boughs. You would think the plumbers had finished their job and gone away before the bricklayers arrived; or else their hydraulic systems, indestructible, had survived an earthquake, or the corrosion of termites.”
—Invisible Cities, Italo Calvino
Found street-posters from New York City and mulberry paper sliced and woven, acrylic paint.
73” x 48.5”
“Whether Armilla is like this because it is unfinished, or because it has been demolished, whether the cause is some enchantment or only a whim, I do not know. The fact remains that it has no walls, no ceilings, no floors: it has nothing that makes it seem a city, except the water-pipes that rise vertically where the houses should be and spread out horizontally where the floors should be be: a forest of pipes that end in taps, showers, sprouts, overflows. Against the sky a lavabo’s white stands out, or a bathtub, or some other porcelain, like late fruit still hanging from the boughs. You would think the plumbers had finished their job and gone away before the bricklayers arrived; or else their hydraulic systems, indestructible, had survived an earthquake, or the corrosion of termites.”
—Invisible Cities, Italo Calvino