RUINS OF THE FUTURE

"Buildings are not just structures; they are witnesses of time. They rise like abstract prisons, inescapable blocks caught at their breaking point—having held too much, now on the verge of collapse."

In Ruins of the Future, architecture bends, fractures, and dissolves. These aren't ancient ruins or futuristic dystopias; they're cities captured just before collapse. Stability gives way to exhaustion and inevitability. Here, destruction isn't an ending—it's a threshold. Everything breaks. Everything fades.

Nubes de angustia
100x150cm
2019

Architecture, once a symbol of permanence, now fractures and disintegrates from within, eroded by time and exhaustion.

Collapse is never purely physical. When structures break, they take something with them—a memory, an idea, a certainty. Who will rebuild, and with what memory?

Nubes de Angustia captures neither past nor future, but the exact instant before everything shifts—the threshold where the world holds its breath, awaiting transformation.

Tsunami
145x90cm
2019

"Not the ruins. Not the moment before. This is the impact itself—the force that reshapes the world in a single instant."

Unlike other works in the series, Tsunami captures instant destruction. Structures shatter into fragments, torn by unstoppable forces. Here is pure transformation, a threshold where the past vanishes, leaving behind only fragments.

Sonambulo caminando de noche
Sleepwalker at night

110x70cm
2019-2024

"The world is falling apart, but he keeps walking. Between reality and dream, between what is collapsing and what has yet to form."

The city dissolves beneath an omnipresent gaze. Permanence crumbles socially, politically, and architecturally. A sleepwalker moves uncertainly through this liquid landscape, unsure if awake or dreaming.

No clear answers appear—just the edge of irreversible change.

Fabelas
100x70cm
2019

"Precarious, chaotic, unstable—but still standing. These are not ruins of the past; they are ruins of the present."

Fabelas explores survival architecture—cities built out of necessity, perpetually close to collapse yet constantly adapting. Frenetic brushstrokes and vibrant colors embody instability and resilience. This is not only destruction but ingenuity; the relentless construction and reinvention in face of inevitable collapse.

Escalera
90x75cm
2019

"A city in flux. A structure that is both a path forward and a path downward. Progress or collapse? It depends on where you stand."

Escalera holds uncertainty at its core. A staircase is both metaphor and object, ambiguous between ascent and downfall. Construction or decay? It refuses answers, leaving viewers to choose: Are we climbing toward progress, or descending into oblivion?

CAVERN AND ECHOES

This series is a bridge between the prehistoric and the contemporary, as if the walls of a modern cave were covered in the traces of a collapse. The use of near-automatic lines and washed-out backgrounds reinforces the idea of archaeological fragments—something on the verge of being erased.

The works read like echoes of a decaying civilization, where the figures are neither heroes nor mythological beings, but entities trapped in the collapse. These are records of human fragility in times of acceleration and destruction, remnants of a world that is slipping away before our eyes.

Cavern #1 – The Shaman of the Cave
40x40cm
2019

A shaman emerges from a washed-out background, barely held together by minimal, fragmented lines. The figure is rough, geometric, almost spectral. Is it a spiritual guide or the last trace of an extinct culture? The strokes suggest a presence struggling not to disappear, a final attempt at connection with something sacred amidst erosion.

Cavern #2 – The Leaning Tower
40x40cm
2019

The structure seems to be collapsing, caught in a precarious balance. A bridge, a broken staircase, or a spine on the verge of giving in. The figure is not yet fallen, but it is doomed to do so. Its posture conveys a state of perpetual tension, resisting entropy.

Cavern #3 – The Witness of the Cave
40x40cm
2019

A face emerges from an eroded surface, with overlapping eyes and a barely defined mouth. This is not a portrait but an echo. The witness is not looking outward but into history itself. It is an image of distorted memory, where what remains is only a blurred version of what once was.

XXI Century Caveman II
100x70
2019

The marks on the surface are more spaced out, as if erosion had left only the most persistent traces. This is an image of forgetting in progress, where absence is as significant as presence. What was once an articulated language is now just a murmur of scattered signs.

XXI Century caveman
110x70cm
2019

Here, the cave ceases to be a shelter and becomes a time capsule—layers of history overlapping without context. The lines evoke prehistoric inscriptions, yet they also resemble the remains of a collapsed civilization trying to hold onto its own history before fading. The work suggests that the primitive and the futuristic are not opposites but cycles of the same process of destruction and reconstruction.

Saqueadores del pasado (Plunderers of the past)
90x50cm
2019

"Plunderers of the Past" portrays history as a landscape of extraction, where scattered fragments are desperately recovered, interpreted, or possessed. Errant entities excavate through ruins, collecting not just material remnants but symbols. Erratic brushstrokes and shifting forms suggest perpetual decay—a broken cartography where past and present blur into one

FRAGMENTED BODIES SERIE

In Fragmented Bodies, figures are torn apart, manipulated by unseen forces. They exist in a state of tension—caught between collapse and reconstruction, between autonomy and submission. Their forms are unstable, their gestures interrupted, as if controlled by an external hand.

Lines dissolve into ruins, stains become remnants of lost identities. These bodies do not act on their own; they are moved, shaped, and broken by something beyond them.

Man with umbrella
2023

A figure dissolving into its surroundings, resisting and fading at the same time. Man Using Umbrella exists in a liminal space—between recognition and obscurity, presence and erasure. The umbrella is a fragile defense, a futile attempt at shelter against an inevitable storm. He is not an individual, but an echo of human frailty, a ghost walking through the ruins of a collapsing world.

Is he leaving or simply standing still? That uncertainty defines him, making him a symbol rather than a person, a shadow of a fleeting existence.

El gato
2017
25x30cm

This is not just a cat; it is an observer, frozen in time, caught between presence and disappearance. It does not act but watches, bearing witness to a world unraveling around it. There is no escape, only the quiet acknowledgment of forces beyond control. Its stillness contrasts with the chaos, a reminder of paralysis in a system that moves relentlessly forward.

Marioneta (Puppet)
35x25cm

In Marioneta, limbs dissolve into strings; features emerge and vanish, as if the body itself questions its boundaries. It is a figure both manipulated and self-aware, trapped in its own mechanisms. The lines are unstable, the stains intrusive, as if it is being pulled apart and reassembled at the same time. It is not just about being controlled—it is about the realization of control.

San Vito Dance
2017

If El Gato embodies stillness and Marioneta submission, San Vito Dance is a forced movement, a convulsion rather than a choice. It is the unsettling image of a body in motion, but not of its own volition—a dance dictated by external forces. The gestures are erratic, dictated by an unknown hand, blurring the line between liberation and affliction. The figure is consumed by its own movement, unable to stop, unable to resist.

selfportrait
50x70cm
2017

A skeletal frame, a structure on the verge of collapse. If self-portraits are meant to define identity, this one dismantles it. The title is ironic, yet brutally honest—how can a fragmented body represent the self? Perhaps this is the truest form of a self-portrait: an identity in flux, torn between destruction and reconstruction, caught in an eternal state of becoming.

EPHEMERAL STRUCTURES

In Ephemeral Structures, the world exists on the edge of disappearance. Forms emerge and disintegrate, buildings fade into dust, and gestures leave only a trace before vanishing.
This series captures the impossibility of holding onto anything before it shifts, disintegrates, or fades away. Absence is as present as form, and what remains is a fleeting imprint of what once was.

Nothing here remains still; everything lingers only as a fleeting trace of uncertainty.

Portrait of a City in Spring
60x50cm
2019

A moment of contained tension, the pause before an uncertain outcome. The architecture of a fragile optimism,
built on unstable foundations.
At first glance, its soft palette and structured elements suggest harmony. But fractures emerge upon closer inspection—forms assembling or collapsing, lines failing to connect, blocks floating without anchor. It is a city in transition,
a structure that may be growing or breaking apart.

End of the winter
80x60cm
2019

This work captures the fragility of seasonal change, not just climatically, but emotionally and existentially. The desaturated palette and pigments melting into canvas reflect Berlin's prolonged winters—a city emerging from snow, a psyche emerging from winter's oppression. The presence of faint blue and earthy pink suggests the arrival of light, but also the melancholy of what is left behind.

Raindrop
50X70cm
2020

A drop suspended in the air, caught in the instant before impact. A fragile moment where time stretches, weight becomes unbearable, and the fall is inevitable.
A minimal structure at the top—barely a sketch of something once solid—suggests a home that no longer provides shelter. Below, a dark stain expands like an emotional weight, an echo of something lost. Ink drips like an abstract tear, a presence dissolving into emptiness. In this work, absence is not an emptiness but a gravitational force. The fall is not just physical—it is affective.

Noctural wind
60x80cm
2019

A nocturnal wind plays between chaos and resistance.
An ephemeral balance between solidity and the ethereal, between permanence and transformation. Like a building resisting a storm or a gestural trace leaving its mark before dissipating. The painting becomes a space of uncertainty and perpetual movement—where collapse is imminent, or perhaps just a reordering of what once was.

OUTER LIMITS

Outer Limits exists at the threshold of the unknown. Identity is no longer fixed, and structures are no longer stable. Human figures are assembled from technological ruins, fragments of cities emerge and dissolve, and architecture becomes a mirage of what once was.

The characters in this series are not explorers in the traditional sense; they are castaways of their own era. .

The works of Outer Limits offer no certainties. They are thresholds to the unknown, spaces where reality dissolves, and mutation is the only constant.

The Astronaut
100x75cm
2020

Drifting in a world that no longer claims him, the astronaut is not an explorer; he is a castaway.
His helmet is not a shield but a fragile stitch barely holding him together. His suit is a collage of broken civilizations, technological ruins, and memories sewn into his body.
What future does he belong to if history has already dismantled him?

The city behind him is a mirage—fragmented, liquid, fading into the blue of an unreachable horizon. He is not in space but stranded in a society that feels unreal, intangible.

In a world of noise and fractured signals, his only certainty is his own dissolution. Between resistance and collapse, between humanity and the machine, The Astronaut stands as a testament to modern alienation—a lost figure in an urban landscape that no longer offers a home.

The Canary
2019

At the heart of this work lies the theme of vulnerability amidst urban chaos. There is a tension between the fragility of the canary and the disorder of its surroundings, which can be read as a reflection on survival in a world on the brink of collapse.

The Canary does not depict collapse as a past event, but as a tense instant where potential ruin hangs silently in the air.

The Witch
2020

Like an altar of the unknown, "The Witch" places us in a space between the domestic and the ritualistic, where everyday objects take on a new meaning under the influence of magic. Among ovens, shelves, and fragmented structures, an enigmatic figure emerges a forgotten goddess, or the echo of urban alchemy itself.

Here, mysticism and industry converge, capturing the moment just before transformation. A dark, vibrant energy unfolds in the composition, where golden, black, and red hues contrast against the structural chaos of overlapping lines and textures. This is a painting that moves between the esoteric and the contemporary, inviting the viewer to discover their own symbols within it.

"The Witch" is for those who find beauty in the unseen, for those who see the city as a place of spells and ruins as a possibility for rebirth.

After party
2019-2024

The echoes of a celebration linger in the air, but the moment has already slipped away. What remains is a space caught between euphoria and exhaustion, between movement and dissolution. Figures blur, architecture distorts, and the city itself seems intoxicated, wavering at the edge of recognition.

In After Party, the remnants of the night unfold in a chaotic composition where vibrant energy collides with disintegration. Is this a memory, a hallucination, or a city that refuses to wake up?

Like the other figures in Outer Limits, this painting does not depict a stable world. Instead, it captures the moment of transition—the fading pulse of something that once burned brightly. It is a threshold between states, a space where reality liquefies, and all that remains is the residue of intensity.

Open door to hidden street
2024

"Open Door to Hidden Streets" is an invitation to step through invisible thresholds, to immerse oneself in what remains hidden beneath the surface of the city. The work captures a transitional moment, as a nocturnal breeze lifts routine's veil, revealing hidden paths, forgotten alleys, and architectures between dream and reality.
The layers of color dissolve like urban fog, revealing fragments of buildings, windows, and barely delineated structures, almost spectral. The blend of blues and earthy tones reinforces the sense of a space in suspension, a place where the tangible and the oneiric coexist in an unstable equilibrium.

A piece imbued with discovery and mystery—a city in flux, where every mark seems to point towards an untraveled path.

FLAMMED TIMES

Cities burn, collapse, bloom. In Flammable Times, permanence is an illusion; architecture bends and dissolves, always in transition. These works capture the precise moments between disappearance and rebirth—when chaos becomes possibility, ruins become landscapes, and destruction opens the door to something unknown.

Chaos blossoms
100x75cm
2024

Chaos awakens, becoming fertile ground. This is not collapse—it’s bloom. The city rebuilds itself from disorder, chaos transformed into a living language.
This painting encapsulates the precise moment when everything feels overwhelming, yet the promise of renewal lingers beneath the surface.

Burning Rooftops
“Building on Fire with a View of the Sea”
100x75cm
2020

The vibrant colors suggest movement, collision, and reconstruction. It is an image of paradox: beauty and chaos, ruin and resilience, the perfect view from the edge of collapse.

"Burning Rooftops" is the sensation of being trapped in a fire with the ocean in the background, questioning whether to flee or admire the spectacle.

Cat looking at the sky
100x75cm
2023

A cat becomes a silent observer, a witness to the fire and the shifting landscape. Its wide, luminous eyes reflect a world in flux—structures bending, skies unraveling, the very foundations of reality trembling beneath unseen forces.

This is not a passive gaze, but a moment of awareness. The cat stands at the threshold between destruction and rebirth, watching as the skyline flickers between ruin and reinvention. In the scattered architecture and gestural marks, there is both loss and the promise of something yet to emerge.

A God is Born, Others Die
100x75cm
2024

Urban forms decompose and reassemble in a dreamlike haze. The city is a living, breathing entity, forever caught between erasure and creation. Are we witnessing emergence or disappearance?

Sandcastles
2024

Structures balance precariously between solidity and collapse, like sandcastles at the mercy of time. A reflection on impermanence—the certainty that everything built will eventually erode.

Interference
2024

A figure emerges from the chaos, trying to communicate amidst noise and collapse. This is the struggle to remain heard, the persistence of individual voice in a world unraveling.

PRIMITIVE GARTEN

In Primitive Garten, ruin is not a relic of the past but the ground for ongoing transformation. These images hold no romanticism: concrete cracks, the jungle devours it, and scars multiply across the surface. Nature is not a refuge—it is an organism that absorbs, assimilates, and distorts what remains. It is the present, the only structure that persists when everything else has failed.

The human presence fades into stains, erratic lines, and expanding fissures. Architecture does not disappear, but it no longer belongs to us.

SCRATCHES
50x70cm
2017

Painting does not construct—it covers. It does not represent—it hides.

Scratches is not an image; it is a resistance to disappearance. What is seen here is not what was originally painted, but what remains after a process of concealment, erosion, and partial revelation. The layers do not add up; they bury each other.

Marks are not gestures but cuts. What should be hidden leaks through; what should vanish leaves a trace.

Here, painting is not color—it is imprint. It is not image—it is scar.

CEMETERY GARDEN
2017

Gardens and cemeteries share one truth: both rearrange remnants into new forms.
This piece does not depict a physical space but a state of suspension. The boundary between the living and the dead is unclear, as if they are leaking into one another. The red divides the scene, but it does not impose a limit—it is a mark, a residue of something that once separated two worlds.

The city does not collapse, but it no longer holds its original form. Transformation is in motion. What remains when everything else changes? Perhaps only memory. Or perhaps only the stain it leaves behind.

Dragon flyng
2017

It is not a dragon, but it never stops being one.

Flight in this painting is not liberation—it is a tremor. A collision between energy and weight. Color does not float—it explodes. What moves has no defined shape, but its presence asserts itself like a trail of fire over a ruined landscape.

Black insists on marking the weight of what has been lived, but it does not succeed in extinguishing the bursts of color. There is a struggle between what wants to sink and what continues to rise.

The dragon is not a creature—it is a residual force. The impossibility of staying still after impact.

CONCRETE CONSUMED BY JUNGLE
35x25cm
2017

Concrete offers an illusion of permanence, but its destiny is submission. Here, the city does not collapse in an instant but is slowly devoured. There is no singular moment of destruction, only the gradual and inevitable process of assimilation.
The brushstrokes act like roots, like liquid shadows advancing without permission, infiltrating what was once stable. There is no resistance. What used to be structures is now just a surface for something else to grow upon. Black paint drips, colors spread without order, geometry disintegrates.
This is not a disaster scene or an ecological warning. It is evidence of what always happens. What is built is merely an interval between what was and what will be again.

Song of the donkey
50x70cm
2017

There is no silence in ruin. What is destroyed still speaks.

In this work, the structure has collapsed, but its echo still vibrates in the remains. This is not a dead landscape; it is active decay, a system that has not yet finished falling. There are layers upon layers, stains that both conceal and reveal, forms that suggest what once was but refuse to settle into a single meaning.

The eyes emerging from the depths of the scene do not simply watch—they observe. This is not about what was left behind, but about what is still present. The city may have become unrecognizable, but that does not mean it is empty.

flavio man

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