FLAVIO MAN
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©2025
Introduction
This catalog does not follow a chronological logic or a closed classification by series. It is an open journey through fragments of a world in crisis, where collapse is not an exception but the norm.The art works gathered here come from different moments and tensions, but they all have the same impulse: to record the moment when structures fail, symbols break down and the absurd imposes itself as the only certainty.
Some pieces are born from minimal but radical experiences (like a flowerpot falling from the sky, thrown by a crow), others from broader visions: cities in ruins, bodies that dissolve, objects that no longer serve for anything. There are figures floating in uncertainty, animals that observe, deformed architectures, landscapes that recall something that never quite existed.
The idea is not to offer answers, but to invite the viewer to enter that intermediate, unstable space, where reality becomes blurry and time ceases to advance in a linear fashion. Each work is a fissure, a trace, a scene within a theater without a script.
This catalog is just that: a sequence of archive of traces, a choreography between ruin, black humor and what still insists on appearing.
Brick falling over the head
Mixed media on canvas
90x70cm
Berlin, 2025
This artwork comes from an experience I lived,
minimal and brutal: the moment a flowerpot fell
from above, thrown by a crow, and passed just
a few centimeters from me. It’s not a metaphor.
It’s chance and absurdity as the only reason for
existence.
Brick falling on a head reflects and satirizes the fragility of life, the uselessness of grand discourses, and the absurd violence of the everyday.
Brick falling on a head reflects and satirizes the fragility of life, the uselessness of grand discourses, and the absurd violence of the everyday.
CAVERN AND ECHOES
This series is a bridge between the prehistoric and the contemporary, as if the walls of a modern cave were covered with the remains of a collapse. The use of automatic lines and faded backgrounds evoke archaeological fragments, something about to be erased.
The paintings are read as echoes of a civilization in decay, the figures are not heroes or mythological beings, but entities that are trapped in the collapse. They are records of human fragility in times of acceleration and destruction, in a world that is disappearing in front of 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 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
Man with umbrella
2023
A figure dissolving into its surroundings, resisting and fading at the same time. 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.
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.
Marioneta (Puppet)
35x25cm
San Vito Dance
2017
San Vito Dance is a forced movement, a convulsion rather than a choice. Its a dance dictated by external forces. The figure is consumed by its own movement, unable to stop, unable to resist.
selfportrait
50x70cm
2017
FRAGILE 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.
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.
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
The 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.
Raindrop
50X70cm
2020
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.
OUTER LIMITS
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
This 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.
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. Invites the view tofind 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
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?
This painting does not depict a stable world. Instead, it captures the moment of transition between states, a space where reality liquefies, and all that remains is the residue of intensity.
Open door to hidden street
2024
This painting 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.
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. 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.
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.