Finding balance between chaos and structure, nature and technology, taste and function: Alexander Díaz Andersson, founder of the Mexico City based design brand ATRA, fuses futuristic concepts with traditional woodworking techniques. Its modern vision of beauty embraces luxury in the context of everyday living, using organic adaptations that lead to a new design universe.

Entering the world of ATRA feels different. The first time I got to experience the
Swedish-Mexican brand founded in 2014 is last year in Paris. I am standing in their pop up showroom that is currently showing their furniture and art exhibition “CARE INSTRUCTIONS” – investigating the idea of character building for inanimate objects. It originates from the concept of how true ownership of an object comes not from the simple act of purchasing it, but from the memories made through living with it. Between noble seating objects, tables and lamps made from the most precious materials such as onyx, travertine, aged brass and alpaca, my eyes are examining the so called “SKIN”, a form-fitting, removable silicone cover tailored to ATRA’s Beluga sofas that protects its purity for everyday life while at the same time suggesting an almost experimental design aspect. It is a perfect demonstration of the brand’s core philosophy envisioning luxury furniture that should be fully experienced, appreciated, and utilized. The idea of “SKIN” originally came from Díaz Andersson’s partner Jeremiah Joseph who grew up in a place where his grandmother wrapped furniture in plastic.

At ATRA, quality, comfort and artisanal craftmanship always comes first, over any fleeting trends. The ATRA 2100 series was first showcased during the brand’s second participation in Design Miami in 2021, where it won the Best in Show prize for its “Curio” showcase. It challenges the question of how we will live 100 years from now. This forward-thinking approach highlights ATRA’s dedication to creating objects and architecture designed to endure beyond fleeting trends, emphasizing lasting significance over time. It is a beautiful homage to sustainability in the most organic way.

Another big highlight is the biohacking chair “Morphus” that the studio presents in a dark side room. It is Díaz Andersson’s collaborative work with American wellness entrepreneur Jonathan Congdon. Pulse electromagnetic frequencies with different wavelengths interact with the body, inducing deep meditative states.

The exhibition also showcases signature pieces such as an oversized BELUGA sectional sofa in black alpaca boucle and aged brass, cream-colored EGGE chairs crafted from long-hair alpaca and aged brass, PEBBLE coffee tables in white onyx and travertine, and a selection of side tables, along with various lighting and accessories.Raised in Sweden and now based in Mexico City, Alexander Díaz Andersson’s work reflects a holistic vision, aiming for a future where humanity finds balance with nature and technology, merging the physical with the ethereal. Its Architecture Studio is founded on the principle of creating architecture that is deeply informed by its geographical and cultural context, recognizing the longevity of buildings and the substantial natural resources they consume. The ATRA Studio team includes four principal architects and designers: Alexander Andersson, founder and formgivare; Leonardo Gonzales, lead conceptual architect; Bogdan Stuparu, lead architect; and Gabriella Kuti, head of interior design. Together, they bring a diverse and holistic approach to creating enduring and contextually conscious architecture.

Delia Gonzalez’s exhibition, “Fassbinder Has Wings, Fassbinder Can Fly,” showcased at Hot Wheels Athens, serves as an exploration of divinity and the human experience within the context of prevalent technological odysseys. During a recent conversation with Gonzalez in Rome, we delved into the intricate web that connects aesthetics, our innate yearning for divinity, and our ceaseless quest to transcend the present. The exhibition sets a glamorous scene, reproducing the Athens Polytechnic interior design, as Gonzalez investigates whether these aspirations are inherently tied to our quest for higher ideals.

Delia Gonzalez is a Cuban American artist known for her multi-disciplinary approach, spanning film, sculpture, drawing, painting, choreography, dance and performance. Her artistic practice often explores themes of spirituality, identity, cinematic histories, and the interplay between the physical, mystical and metaphysical realms. Additionally, she is recognized as a musician and composer, having collaborated with artist Gavin Russom under the name “Black Leotard Front” and released music with DFA Records.

Gonzalez’s recent solo show drew inspiration from the characteristic decadence of 1970s sci-fi imagery—a vision of a grandiose future from her childhood alongside the dystopian realities depicted in films throughout that era. Her fascination with such cinematic aesthetics, particularly the slickness of 1970s science fiction, has shaped shared perceptions of our future, as well as the ongoing pursuit of technological sanctity, redefining the devotional qualities informing our present technological existence.

Her exhibition, “Fassbinder Has Wings, Fassbinder Can Fly,” was inspired by Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s film, World On A Wire, which delves into the concept of simulated reality, where advanced computer programs create virtual worlds inhabited by artificial intelligence. The protagonist, Fred Stiller, is a scientist working on a simulation project, and as he journeys deeper into the artificial world, he begins to question the nature of reality and the boundaries between the virtual and the real. Gonzalez’s interest in the film touches upon themes of the self, individuality, as well as the impact of societal reflections and repetitions on our journey towards self-discovery. Interconnected with technological development, attaining divinity is timeless and surpasses generations. For her, the potential to break free from the repetitive cycle of our reality is a complicated feat which allows her to usher in more surrealist takes grown out of such realities.

Gonzalez tells me about the surreal and recurring mimicking scenarios that she has witnessed in social situations throughout her life, where people mirror one another, sparking a dialogue on individuality, consciousness, and the profound impact of technology, specifically, AI. She introduces an inescapable metaphor—the mirror—as an insignia of human behavior, denoting a conformity of emulation.

Enacting simulation is intrinsic to human behavior, Gonzalez explains to me, and the synchronous influence that AI evokes is just a technological resolution of understanding the self as a copy of another. For this exhibition, Gonzalez also introduces the idea of the mirror as a symbol of human behavior: how humans often mimic and mirror each other, raising questions about individuality and consciousness as they correlate with technology. She is interested in whether modern technology and AI are pushing us towards a cycle of repetition, ultimately leading humanity back to a position where something begins, arises, or is derived from—a repetitive copy of itself in an object-like imitation of a situation or process.

This can be understood as a feedback loop, helping us to understand complex systems of pattern recognition outcomes and how such patterns might shape the processes of human behavior in the future. A feedback loop is a system or process where the output or result of a particular action or behavior is fed back into the system as input, influencing or modifying subsequent actions or behaviors. In simpler terms, it is a self-regulating mechanism where the consequences of an action affect future iterations of that action. While mirroring alludes to self-awareness, introspection, or illusion, feedback loops describe self-regulation, self-correction, or patterns in complex systems.

In a world shaped by technology masquerading as artificial intelligence, the concept of divinity takes on new dimensions. Are we headed towards a higher understanding of ourselves, or are we losing touch with the spiritual realm? Is divinity a purely spiritual concept, or does it also entail a connection to a higher power? This interplay between divinity, AI, technology, and human existence underpinned by the allure and significance of aesthetics, perfection, and a longing for the past in shaping our perceptions of the future is evident throughout Gonzalez’s work. Gonzalez provocatively questions whether we are moving closer to divinity or losing touch with it. She touches upon themes of the self, individuality, as well as the impact of societal reflections of futurity and repetitions in the journey towards self-discovery.

Delia Gonzalez incorporates a digitally rendered and synthy soundscape of two similar sounding tracks that play alongside the formica replicas of the Polytechnic Athens’ interior structures, encapsulating the mood of the lobby’s design located just across the road from the gallery. This sort of mirroring blurs the boundaries between capturing a nostalgic, idealized vision of the future reminiscent of the glitzy 1970s films like Fassbinder’s  “World on a Wire.” The allure of glamor and perfection are reiterated in this show, prompting contemplation as to whether these aspirations are intrinsically tied to our quest for higher ideals.  “Fassbinder Has Wings, Fassbinder Can Fly” explores the essence of transcendence and divinity in Gonzalez’s symbolic use of the mirror, constellated as panel-portals throughout the installation, and its imposing role in our relentless pursuit for power and self-reflection in the digital age. At its most basic understanding, the human characteristics that we ascribe to technology.

Artist duo Cooking Sections’ work combines art and activism, using food as a gateway to explore the social, cultural and political drivers of the climate crisis. Founded in 2012 by Daniel Fernández Pascual and Alon Schwabe, Cooking Sections incorporates design, architecture and community work to create works that defy simple categorization. In their multi-site project CLIMAVORE, they examine how climate change has eliminated traditional seasons, instead identifying the new ‘seasons’ of the climate crises: periods of drought, oceanic pollution and soil depletion. Yet their work also explores potential solutions, looking at how we can create adaptive and regenerative forms of food production. Thus, rather than just working with temporary installations, their practice actively seeks to create frameworks that can be continued in a local context after an exhibition is over. This incorporated solution aspect offers a much-needed glimmer of optimism in a struggle where many of us can find ourselves feeling powerless. Their work is not about the individual choices we make, but about facing the structural issues that are accelerating the climate emergency, and encourage us to demand change by those in power.

“Too often, the responsibility of a malfunctioning of a system is put on people’s individual habits instead of thinking more systemically.”

“In order to make food affordable and to feed the world, some of these very intensive and toxic practices have been heavily subsidized by governments without thinking of the long-term future of the soil or the long-term future of our bodies.”

“I had just moved into a new flat in London and the starting point of that was me just staring into an empty bed. The idea of starting over was heartbreaking.”

LA-based artist Reine Paradis (b. 1989, France) will soon be coming to Berlin to present her newest body of work “ECLIPSE”. Her practice is strongly characterised by bold colors and sharp compositions, and applies a wide array of media. By use of self-portrait photography, painting, sculpture, installation, and video, the artist cultivates a distinct visual universe that is consistent but simultaniously ever so surprising.

ECLIPSE as a series brings light, color and form to the forefront, together forming surreal landscapes that leave all suggestion of our world behind. Here, Paradis gracefully walks the line between reality and fantasy. The immersive multimedia installations come to life by a carefully curated process. The artist imagines the first idea for each image with a maquette, a blueprint that is later translated to staged on-site photographs. From here on, every costume, accessory and sculpture is meticulously designed by Paradis to suit her vision. This also introduces a performative aspect to her practice.

Aside from her photographic work, the artist also incorporates painting and sculpture into her series.  The wide array of media in her extensive artistic arsenal, strengthen eachother while often intersecting.

Marking the first time ever for her work to be exhibited in Germany, the exhibition will have its opening on the 12th of February and will last until the 15th of March.

If, like me, you’re a techno head—wedded to dark dancefloors, addicted to sonorous strangeness—chances are, you’ve heard of the book Future Shock. Published in 1970, penned by husband-and-wife duo Alvin and Heidi Toffler (herein, when I say “Toffler,” I mean both authors) and selling millions of copies, Future Shock is a book that Detroit techno’s founding group Cybotron read and which supposedly fired their artistic imaginations. “Alvin Toffler’s book is a kind of bible to Detroit’s new musical revolutionaries,” noted John McCready in 1988 in the NME (indulging in hyperbole).

The term techno was already bouncing around the global musical grid by the early 1980s. But the term’s appearance in Toffler’s follow-up book, The Third Wave, chimed with and validated the emerging electronic music genre: “The techno rebels are, whether they recognize it or not, agents of the third wave,” wrote Toffler. “They will not vanish but multiply in the years ahead. For they are as much a part of the advance to a new stage of civilization as our missions to Venus, our amazing computers, our biological discoveries, or our explorations of the oceanic depths.” A seductive idea, but decades later, how does it fare? In this jaded age of ours, while our planet burns and the dancefloor distracts, what can Future Shock still tell us?
Future visions always reflect the person doing the prediction. For the tweedy English gentleman Arthur C. Clarke, the future is about humanity’s imperial encounters in outer space. For the drug-addled vagabond Philip K. Dick, the future means inane advertisements being beamed directly into your brain and not knowing whether or not you’re actually real. For the Queer Black outsider Octavia Butler, the future involves the mutant biological blending of humans and aliens. These are science fiction authors, but between science fiction and futurist analysis, there’s a fine line, with speculation in common.
Toffler was of the privileged class of WASPs, well educated and with a background in business and journalism. Future Shock reads like the jottings of a lofty MD, the type of sensible doctor who golfs on the weekends at the country club, the trusty gent to whom concerned postwar American parents turned when their little son Billy began exhibiting worrying signs of unsavouy homosexual urges, and who would sagely prescribe Billy a thorough course of electroshock therapy. “The basic thrust of this book is diagnosis,” Toffler writes, guiding Americans through the worrying world of tomorrow.

Toffler as guide describes built-in obsolescence, modular architecture, consumerist fads, style tribes, unorthodox families. Toffler describes how we will live under the sea, weather manipulation on a global scale, “research into communication between man and dolphin,” generating new species of bacteria, synthetic body parts, cloning, choosing your embryo’s sex and personality, cyborgs. The future is a disconcerting concatenation of phenomena arising, more or less, from the revolutions in communications technology, which Toffler diagnoses and prognosticates upon.
A notable feature of Future Shock is its air of seductive exoticism. “We who explore the future are like those ancient mapmakers,” Toffler writes proudly, savoring “new realities, filled with danger and promise, created by the accelerative thrust.” The future is a strange country full of unsettling customs. As such, Future Shock is at times an escape from a mundane present into a world of romantic fantasy, of teleportation, telepathy, cloning, eternal life, bodily augmentation: futurist analysis as a branch of supernatural literature.

Future Shock is also prescient. It accurately foresees the so-called experience economy (“One important class of experiential products will be based on simulated environments that offer the customer a taste of adventure, danger, sexual titillation or other pleasure without risk to his real life or reputation”—escape rooms, Meta and so on), remarking correctly that it “is clearly foreshadowed in the participatory techniques now being pioneered in the arts” (such as hippie happenings). In art, Future Shock observes a shift away from the classical arts towards immersive multisensory experiences: “Artists also have begun to create whole ‘environments’—works of art into which the audience may actually walk, and inside which things happen… The artists who produce these are really ‘experiential engineers.’” Which is basically the 2020s techno club.

“The future is like a weird alien virus infecting the public body, mutating all the cells of human society, rendering alien and dysmorphic the human self as hitherto known.”

“The inhabitants of the earth are divided not only by race, nation, religion or ideology, but also, in a sense, by their position in time.”

“Future shock is the “shattering stress and disorientation that we induce in individuals by subjecting them to too much change in too short a time.””