This hands-on workshop explores the ethical, emotional, and sensory dimensions of AI-driven human-machine interaction by approaching the body as a “black box” both as an artistic strategy and as a critical lens through which to examine how interactive technologies—and AI in particular—engage with bodies.

We are creating a focused mentorship for emerging curators based in Vienna who have curiosity and some practical experience (from little to medium), but who seek a supportive, non-gatekept environment to grow. Two selected curators will take part in a four-month program consisting of workshops with four mentors, exchanges with other curators, visits to off-spaces, galleries, and artists’ studios, as well as a detailed, hands-on collaboration with the Improper Walls team to develop, plan, and realise a final exhibition, bringing the program to a full cycle of curatorial practice. 

Ctrl + Shift + Del is a command to delete. But what if it became a command to reset? The exhibition explores this question through speculative video games that reclaim digital spaces as sites of care, memory, and resistance. Three artistic positions offer distinct responses to overlapping crises—occupation, imperialist violence, capitalism, overtourism, climate collapse—not by escaping them, but by reprogramming their structures.

Endnotes. On Reading Anarchy is an exhibition, publication, and event project that departs from the legacy of the Free Thought Library (BLR: Вольная Думка), a self-organized anarchist space in Minsk, which ceased to exist after the crackdown on the social uprising of 2020 in Belarus.

Closer Still presents a new body of work by Brooklyn J. Pakathi, shaped around longing at its most vulnerable. The title speaks as both a command and a confession, holding together an urge to remain near and the uncertainty that such closeness entails.

The exhibition turns to that precarious interval where relation takes shape and where feeling acquires form through measure and clarity, it also composes nearness as a living practice and affirms that desire endures through the ways we look, the ways we wait, and the ways we remain.

What kinds of collective spaces allow us to approach histories of violence that refuse representation? Can an archive generate affective economies of shared grief? The Silence of the Volcano brings together a group of artists that through their practice respond to an archive rooted in experiences of migration, exile, clandestinity, political resistance, forced disappearance, and genocide during Guatemala’s counterinsurgent war (1954–1996)—one of the longest in Latin America.