Architecture promises comfort: it constructs it as a state in which a body should not be felt, but rather sealed, standardised, and regulated by the spaces we inhabit to ensure its productivity. The body becomes architecture’s leak.

Leaking Flesh seeks to make sense of this otherwise. It centres on a body that can be neither contained nor described: a porous, erotic flesh that spills, stretches, and slips in fragile contact. The work unfolds through four structures: a bridge, a seesaw, a thermal loop, and a facade built from discarded materials of extraction, such as solar panels and greenhouse glass, or from aesthetics of control. Structures and bodies merge as conduits, charged by accumulation of exhausted energy, temperature, and vibration, their boundaries tested until they spill into intimacy. Activated by four bodies, a performance oscillates between moments of mechanical control, disruption, and surrender.

Architecture turns parasitic: a host to be subverted, challenged, and re-used.