There are no signs, no titles, no wall texts—only fractured plaster, hollow bricks, and anonymous shards compacted in a window display that mimics ruin yet resists clarity. Is the gallery under renovation, or is this the exhibition? A mound of rubble proposes precisely that ambiguity: a refusal to distinguish between art and aftermath, between aesthetic gesture and urban residue. The work is not installed—it has collapsed. Its material vocabulary speaks of demolition, not construction: what remains after meaning has been evacuated. This installation does not narrate disaster; it is the residue of one, unreadable and immediate. The street reflection merges with the chaos inside, turning passersby into spectators.
