The site of the unwanted

The Site of the Unwanted is an exact replica of a traditional stone-built aloni (threshing floor), overtaken by an almond tree and various wild flora. When land is abandoned, nature does not simply fill a void; wild plants become the first colonizers of rural ruins, silent witnesses to transformation, marking time as they reclaim what was once theirs.

Through digital displacement, forms and fragments of this landscape are translated into sculptural hybrids of the analog and the digital. In this process, 3D recording technologies act as active mechanisms for generating knowledge and memory, reshaping how we perceive our relationship with the environment. Place is thus understood not as a static form, but as a continuous process.

Landscape is never a neutral backdrop to human life or economic activity. Instead, it is historically constituted through continuous interactions between human and non-human agents where land, sea, and ruins actively participate in shaping everyday existence. Here, nature ceases to be background scenery and becomes a living protagonist: an organism bearing the freshness of the unfamiliar while resonating with the memory of history.

In this work, physical reality yields to an artificial memory capturing a moment of quiet magnificence before species and traditions fade. It allows the landscape to persist through revisualization, preserving a fragile, gradually disappearing ecological and cultural condition.

*James Hilton, Lost Horizon, 1933

The site of the unwanted

 Like a modern wanderer in search of their own Shangri-La*, in A Liquid Mass of Nature Pulled Out of Shape I present three-dimensional recordings of the horizon as seen from the hills of Athens. I construct a mold of something I cannot touch, an intangible form that holds space, time, and experience. A place in constant flux. I create shifting views of the horizon fluid masses born of a paradoxical endeavor, since a faithful three-dimensional capture is ultimately impossible. The result is a strange sensation of an unfamiliar, newly-revealed landscape.

*James Hilton, Lost Horizon, 1933