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UNDER TRACER. 2024

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At its core, the installation features a meticulously crafted burnt wood sculpture, its jagged form mimicking a nuclear weapons totem pole, standing defiantly on a substrate of charcoal-laden earth. The ground itself appears to breathe with an almost volcanic energy, a stark reminder of the cyclical interplay between creation and annihilation. This foundation, textured and dark, evokes a duality: it is both the fertile residue of decay and the ashen remnant of catastrophic change.

Suspended in a dense crimson sea of light, the sculpture is imbued with an unsettling yet captivating presence. The hues saturating the space seem to throb like the blood of an ancient organism, enveloping the viewer in a visceral confrontation with the remnants of a world shaped by violence and uncertainty. By positioning this imposing figure as both relic and prophecy, Jarrín invites the audience to navigate the tenuous boundary between the archaeology of destruction and the speculative landscapes of renewal.

The piece operates as an “archaeology of the present,” probing the contradictions of a moment where destruction is omnipresent in the media yet remains buried in the political and social subconscious. It compels us to confront the paradoxical silence surrounding the technologies of violence and the inertia that sustains their existence. The totemic form is not merely an artifact; it becomes a witness—its charred surface speaking of histories both imagined and lived, its verticality a gesture of resistance and resilience.

In the speculative fiction the work evokes, the installation functions as a time capsule, a liminal space inhabited by nonhuman entities—perhaps creatures of metal, ash, or silicon—engaged in the quiet reconstruction of a new world. These beings, imagined as co-inhabitants of a ruined earth, seem to dismantle the binaries of destruction and creation, forging a narrative of symbiotic survival. Through this lens, Jarrín’s work becomes a meditation on the entanglement of species, environments, and technologies, gesturing toward an ethical reconstruction of futures that resist linear progression.

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Exhibited in 2024 at Ventana, the gallery located within the Alt-Tempelhof metro station in Berlin, the installation challenges the conventional exhibition space, embedding itself in the transient rhythms of urban life. The station, a space of passage and transformation, becomes an extension of the work's thematic core—a site where temporalities converge, where the remnants of the past meet the speculative architectures of the future. This interplay between the subterranean and the transcendent amplifies the sculpture’s resonance, inviting viewers to become participants in its unfolding narrative.

Through this haunting yet generative installation, Jarrín probes the thresholds of ecological, technological, and social collapse, offering a vision that is neither utopian nor dystopian, but a complex interweaving of conflict and transformation. It stands as a potent reminder that destruction is not an endpoint, but a call to reimagine and reconfigure the possibilities of existence in a world perpetually in flux.

Aquiles Jarrín.

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