Brick Dust, 2022
In June 2022, the roof of in.plano’s studio collapsed.
This piece, composed of brick dust collected from the ruins of the former studio, stands as a material trace of a space that no longer exists — a space of making, exhibiting, and gathering, now rendered inaccessible.
Presented alongside a series of (im)material keys, this dust echoes the paradox of entry into a place that has disappeared. The keys, whether melting in the hand or embedded in the wall, invite us to ask: what door are we meant to open, if the architecture has vanished? What kind of access is being offered — symbolic, mnemonic, speculative?
Here, the key no longer opens a physical door. It opens onto memory, absence, and projection. The brick dust becomes both residue and threshold: a fragile matter pointing toward what once was, and toward the imaginary space that survives the collapse.
