Can’t Fit My Genes is a collection of works all centered around imaginings on the posthuman condition of bodies and archives. Primarily made out of glass, aluminum, steel, copper wire, silicone and found photographs, they touch upon notions of transparency, memory and movement, at a crossings of an archeology of media and the futurity of bodies.

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Body fragments, visually close to classical greek sculpture, are made out of blown glass and filled with colored sugar fermenting, breeding new forms of life or smeared with fish ink, tied together with conductive copper. A head resting on a tripod is occupying space in a primal way of building ‐ encamping.

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Three wall pieces of plaster, layered aluminum, steel and glass sheets showcase photographs from a trash container, where the life archives of a man working as a train mechanic and obsessed with trains were found. Images of train rails on the mountains are hidden behind perforated metal, allowing them to show only in binary code, as a reference to the archeology of the Internet and the crossings of rails and further on, wires, reinventing the notion of landscape.

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Another glass belly alludes to issues of reproduction being positioned alongside silicone copies of tapes and CD cases, inspired by a factoid from one year in the Sixties when the most popular word was plastics, right before memory and mother.

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