In January 2021, a friend who, back in the day, was the sales manager of a prominent gallery in Dubai invited me to spend time in the region, become familiar with the local landscapes, and see where that would lead. That is how I found myself spending most of the year in Dubai, and continuing to do so until now, in the epicenter of globalization: the place that optimized every aspect of it, and possibly the only one that managed to transform it into an example even for those who oppose it.

What I noticed there, and learned to appreciate, is that while in the old world these relationships with identity and past histories are undoubtedly a richness, they also become an excuse for self-entitlement, or, as we say in Italy, “to shine with reflected light.” Identitarian movements are becoming very prominent everywhere, and I am quite sure this is also because globalization and neoliberalism have devastated local identities. But while I love differences and specificities deeply, I find turning them into an obsession somewhat diminishing of the potential we have, and of who we are, today.

In the UAE, a country where locals are a minority, with little architectural history because the populations were Bedouin, and especially in Dubai, where most of the city has been built in the last 30 years, identity fades, and this has its advantages. It is no longer a matter of whom you represent, but of who you are here and now. There are many ways of creating realities, and Dubai is one of them. I do not see this as the only method, or the best one, but it is one possible reality, and it was a surprise for me to spend time there trying to understand this alternative way of functioning.

At some point, I was offered a project, which I developed into a massive inflatable sculpture made of stock images and renderings of generic neoliberal architecture. We presented it on the World Islands archipelago — and what could be better than an idealized world in the shape of tropical islands for an Idealized City? I wanted it to be inflatable as a tribute to the remnants of Bedouin culture still ingrained in the administration: just as you set up a camp and dismantle it when you need to move elsewhere, the same method is applied to city-making. If something is built but no longer necessary, or if something better becomes available, there is no reason for it to remain.

These encounters taught me how realities and narrations can be built in different ways, how something that works here cannot work elsewhere, and how important it is to be able to deconstruct information and stimuli in order to read reality once again. I am working on a project and publication about what I call “The Mental State,” which refers both to the process of framing the perception of citizens and to the psychopathy of governments or transnational governing bodies. I hope it will help viewers and readers realize that everything is a construct, and that the only way to be truly present now is to deconstruct before beginning to build again.

Historically speaking, it seems that we have already reached the end of neoliberalism and globalization. The world is shaking under new orders and in the effort to create new ones. I see what I have done so far as representative of a historical period that has already passed.