For the past two decades, the World Wide Web has redefined what and how we know. We have enveloped ourselves in a thick, electromagnetic fog of information.
For each techno-utopian claim there is a litany of counter claims. The Internet has allowed for individuals to represent themselves online, bypassing more traditionally centralized systems of control. But what of the caveats and conditions that come with online liberation? From what have we been emancipated, and in what are we now entering? As German philosopher and media theorist Byung Chul-han writes, “Today we live in the here and now … We live in times of a complete lack of spatial or temporal intervals, times without distance and without discretion.

 

In 032c Issue 20 (Winter 2010/2011), architect Bjarke Ingels said that these concerns were precisely the ones we should be trying to align with urbanism and architecture. What does this new condition – or surround – entail for architecture? Yes, we can list the changes, and coin new names for them (contemporary art has chosen “Post-Internet”), but what good would that do? Due to the logistics of construction, architecture is perhaps the slowest boat to turn, and no amount of digital processing seems to be speeding it up. But perhaps this delayed reaction makes architecture the ideal discipline through which to observe our changing world. Architecture is the lava rock that distills rainwater of its impurities. It patiently absorbs its context, and registers its change in slow but reliable increments.

Although trained as an architect, ANDREAS ANGELIDAKIS has eschewed designing physical spaces. After the economic crisis in Greece derailed his first brick-and-mortar projects, Angelidakis began creating architectural spaces that live as networked environments, navigated through web browsers and virtual worlds. As such, his work has become a meditation on the idea of ruin – both ancient and economic – and the potential of architecture as a site of of real-time social engagement. Angelidakis has been forced to adapt to the collapsing boundaries of physical space, transposing them to and from the confines of our LCD screens. 032c’s CARSON CHAN interviewed the architect.

 

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“If Utopia is a movement towards and not simply a being in place, then there are practices one can build and refine to get there. I see mycofabrication as a very promising one.”

Giulio Perticari

Co-Founder & CEO

Interview

Can you introduce yourself?

My name is Giulio, I come from the pearl of the Mediterranean—Rimini—and you can catch me at Top LAB or walking in the streets with my truffle dog Lana.

What is your background?

Neuroscience, philosophy, and literature. For many years I wrote for an independent travel magazine about culture, art, and fashion. I also took care of editorial curation and managing collaborations for each new issue. Some odd jobs that I have done include being an international recruiter for engineers, an event manager on luxury wooden schooners on New York’s waterfronts, and a marketing manager at the German copycat of Etsy.

What brought you to mycelium and mushrooms?

Besides an early love for porcini and Toad, the mushroom character in Mario Kart, my fascination for mycelium really developed when I read The Mushroom at The End of the World in 2018. I started researching the use of mushroom and mycelium in neuroscience, and read books by McKenna, Stamates, and Sheldrake. Once I had a grasp of mycelium’s potential and its connection with the evolution of human cognitive development, it was a wrap for me, finally I had found a conceptual hub that contained all my interests, from cultural evolution, to phenomenology, design, fashion, nature, waste, experimentation, and citizen science.

How did you end up in Berlin?

After graduating from high school sucking at German but loving its literature, I decided to spend that summer in Berlin to learn the language before going back to Italy for university. When I got out of the bus at Alexander Platz, I thought to myself, these ugly buildings just plopped from the sky! It was far from love at first sight, but enough for a summer fling. Yet after stints in Rome and Switzerland I came back and studied here. Then moved back-and-forth from the States three times. Somehow, though, Berlin has always brought me back through its unconventional pull.

Can you share a project that you are particularly proud of and why?

Two years ago I was working for an AI incubator, and was captivated by the atmosphere around founding teams. I took a semester-long course about developing a startup business at Humboldt. On the first day we were asked about our business ideas, and I was adamant about doing something with materials made out of mushrooms—virtually all fellow participants didn’t know what I was even talking about, and yet here we are today!

What is your role in SYLIA?

I focus a lot on the team’s dynamic and constellation—the most important thing is that we are all in a position to carry out our talents to their fullest potential and create an infectious momentum for the whole enterprise. As the most senior member of the team, I’m the veteran control tower: I have the overview of what has happened and which opportunities to seek out in order to make our vision financially sustainable for the years to come. My role is to amplify what we do through storytelling, marketing, collaborations and strategic partnerships.

What motivates you in your work?

Finding meaning in what I do, which takes many forms: being experimental and bold, producing a material that excites people and fulfils market and environmental needs, doing something cool and inspiring others to explore their own passions, working and collaborating with people that are driven, creative and follow their dreams. Also, the realization that in the end I wouldn’t trade what I do with anyone else.

How do you see the future of mycofabrication?

Splendid! With all the waste in the world, there’s an organism that can help us regenerate it, by literally forming it into new objects and materials, which when thrown away, will be reintegrated into the soil, enriching it. And there’s more: most people can make their own material at home if they chose to—mycofabrication is very DIY-friendly! And should they choose to simply buy it, that’s amazing too: they are happy, we are happy, and soils, waterways, and animals are happy as well (and yes, I approve anthropomorphizing nature and naturalizing humans)!

What are some of your favorite poetry, books, films, or works of art?

Books are my obsession, novels especially. I love it when a writer is able to express the unsaid through language—their characters’ stupidity, ironies, splendors and contradictions. Right now I’m reading Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Laclos, and it’s brilliant! The way Laclos is able to describe emotions in the web of rococo social norms is light years ahead of what social cognitive scientists can say about ours today. And while his sociopathic libertine anti-heroes are seducing and entertaining the reader, societal expectations as a whole are ridiculed.

For me art needs to go against the grain, follow its own rules, and be free. I like virtue and virtuosity, fearless and funny. I like the Guerilla Girls, David Wojnarowicz, Dadaists, Piero Manzoni, Philip Dick, Colette, Aldo Busi.

When it comes to films, I like camp à la John Waters, for instance in Pink Flamingo and Serial Mom, and the surreal à la Buñuel, for example in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, or in David Lynch’s masterpiece Twin Peaks Season 3.

What does your utopia look like?

Utopia for me is when the mind is in harmony with the environment, i.e. the inside is on the same frequency as the outside and vice versa. It means not needing to dissociate because life is so contradictory and society is so hostile for its semi-unconscious death drive. Utopia supersedes and contains all ironies at the same time. In less abstract terms: no militaries, no empty consumerism, no linear production, no revolting capital accumulation. Yes to openness, mutualism, solidarity, active imagination, play, freedom and peace. Even more concretely? Utopia is also the absence of tasks like filling out papers and forms. Also, wouldn’t it be cool if there was no need for money?

If Utopia is a movement towards and not simply a being in place, then there are practices one can build and refine to get there. I see mycofabrication as a very promising one.