Opposite this, another section is dedicated to representations of unbounded, uncontrolled, and unregulated space, which, being primarily concerned with the communication of corners and curves, appear more geometric, more sculptural. Here is one of Bogdan Bordeianu’s works from 2007, which documents the growth of urban peripheries specific of that period, characterised by inadequate infrastructure for development and chaotic building. Spanish artist David Barreiro, who grew up in the poor region of Galicia, where men often emigrated from to work in construction, continues this theme. Inspired by his previous work on construction sites before pursuing art, for this project he collaborated with workers to create humorous, temporary structures. The construction site becomes a space for deconstruction or social reconstruction, based on Brecht’s “alienation effect”, where only by showing the audience something artificial or performative can the artist highlight the subversive nature of his creation. The time spent on the construction site was rigid, with little relaxation, but Barreiro brings it closer to the playfulness of an artistic practice. Andrei Mateescu is present with an example from his series of works dedicated to hypermarkets, which he fantastically enlarges and whose volumes he reimagines. The city always remains in the background, a wasteland contrasting with the absurd and futuristic forms in the foreground. The curator notes that the hypermarket’s logo – Billa – has been removed, much like “a brand erased in a brief history of the wild capitalism of the early post-Revolution decades”. A subject such as the hypermarket in a country with such a high density of this type of stores reflects the region’s marginal position as a mere sales market for European capital. Vladimir Florentin’s “Hybrid Monuments” is a series of sculptural photographs, UV-printed on alucobond and perspex, the latter bent with a heat gun and shaped in-situ. The photographs’ subjects, which remain a secret to the public, are taken from the immediate reality of the city, but what can be said is that the images result from spaces where capital takes precedence over aesthetics and human comfort. Florentin’s photographic sculptures invite visceral sensations linked to the shapes they take—curved, sharp, circles, angles—and to associations that cannot be fully named. They are almost like AI-generated images transposed into physical space, whose content has a meaning that dissipates yet manages to convey fragments of the city’s “vibe” so disparate that they cannot be entirely grasped. In one work, the subject, perhaps the hand of a builder lifting a stone from the ground, slides downwards along with the glossy surface of the perspex, among other construction site objects.

In both rooms are small works by English artist Emily Ryalls that address unfriendly urban furniture which subtly discourages gatherings, the homeless, or birds. Her subjects’ bodies interact almost affectionately with these features, and, by being placed in close proximity to other photographs in the exhibition, they create a speculative sense of communication between the works.

The third room explores the ways in which capital shapes the city, whether through state capital movements, real estate speculation, or the intrusiveness of advertising in urban space. At its centre, we can observe Ion Grigorescu’s work, a 1994 video in which the artist walks through a wild urban landscape, altered by state capital, seemingly awaiting real estate speculators and abandoned to the social classes left with nothing during the transition period, who resort to stealing metal from abandoned construction sites after the Revolution due to lack of funds. Grigorescu starts from Papazoglu Street, follows on to cross Dâmbovița River on Mărășești Bridge, reaching Piața Unirii, the centre of the city; then he returns, crossing the new axe of the city, the Unirii Boulevard. At one point, someone recognises him, and they walk together along the street, talking, but the conversation is indistinguishable. The work, in its way, covers several historical periods at once: the ghost of the past and the city that once was; the construction sites of the 1980s; and the transition of the 1990s. The portion of the city traversed becomes, through Grigorescu’s gaze, an attempt to find something tangible, to document a reality that undergoes repeated shocks. Grigorescu’s work sits next to that of young artist Anca Țintea, who documents derelict factories on valuable land, abandoned by owners hoping that their self-destruction will boost profit potential. Her delicate, thermal receipt-printed images evoke the ease with which these spaces can disappear from memory. Also featured is a piece by Alexander Rosenkranz, who photographs buildings from an elevated viewpoint in order to create an observer’s perspective. A collage of two city halves, the image has been reverse mounted behind glass to create a scanner effect.

The exhibition “Expanded Spatialities” seeks an artistic expression that can be drawn from urban discomfort, both as a lived space and as a visual form that undergoes various transformations in the gallery context. The exhibited forms arise from architectural instincts, financial speculation, and labour experiences across social classes, focusing on function rather than pleasure.