One of the reasons this project-laboratory is called “Invisible” is because, every time I tackle a research topic, I come to the realisation that what matters most in understanding a problem and its context is normally hidden and shielded for view, unless you make the effort to scratch beneath the surface and uncover new perspectives, connections and data.

“Invisible” because we work behind closed doors which keep part of reality at bay, and the convergence between the project and the outside world gives rise to unexpected interactions and consequences, which materialise out of thin air like a ghost.

And lastly, “invisible” because I am a woman, a young person and look even younger than I really am, which makes me invisible in many cases.

After a period spent observing and understanding, I separated this invisibility into several layers. These forms of invisibility are not exclusive, but are superimposed atop one another like a Matryoshka, a Russian doll.

1. Icall the first and outermost layer Performative Invisibility. This is, in my opinion, the most obvious layer. It emerges when invisibility is imposed like a veil atop existing realities, denying their right to be seen.

Such is the case, for instance, in situations related to race, gender identity, social status and sexual orientation. As a society, we have and continue to impose a layer of invisibility atop whatever makes us uncomfortable and which escapes normative principles, stamping out its right to be seen. Within this imposed form of invisibility I would like to include the practices of submission and violence to which we subject other sentient beings, animals, in exploitive environments such as industrial farms, settings where information is lost and the process is rendered invisible, so that we may continue with the same consumption habits without batting an eyelid.

2. The next layer is Manufactured Invisibility, a conscious form of concealment, like a magic trick, common in new technological realities.

The notion that “any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” (Arthur C. Clarke) is today an essential principle of technology; the mechanisms have become invisible, imperceptible. We can no longer open a machine and see how it works; there are no cogs or pieces that make it comprehensible. Digital technology is cryptic, algorithmic, invisible and unintelligible for the vast majority of humans.

We prefer convenience over comprehension. We accept the terms and conditions despite not being able to decipher their meaning and in doing so have relinquished control over our data. Today’s technology also reflects the personal and ideological biases of its creators. Biases are invisible; consequences are not. It is also astounding how large technology companies are able to render invisible their impact on the physical world, as in the case of Facebook and its servers in the Arctic, which consume massive amounts of energy and require infrastructure that alter the environment and determine our destiny on the planet.

3. We can also talk in terms of Discursive Invisibility when what is invisible dictates our understanding of things. This refers to the myths, ideologies and traditions we share with one other and which either give meaning to our existence or render it meaningless.

An example of Discursive Invisibility it what is occurring with the knowledge being generated about the climate crisis. According to Timothy Morton, it is a phenomenon that, due to its complexity and mass scale, we are incapable of completely comprehending. We are therefore faced with a kind of epistemological invisibility. It is a hyperobject, of which we can only see blurred fragments. Therefore, the only way to understand the crisis is through the stories we are told by people from the fields of History, Science, Economics, Philosophy and Politics, and the filter of ideology. A form of invisibility which becomes visible in discourse.

4. And lastly, Projective Invisibility, which makes reference to the colonisation of our collective imaginations. It has to do with the invisible limits that define the realm of what is imaginable and influence possible futures, reducing the infinite possibilities to a manageable number. The stories about our future do not lack ownership, emerge slowly and eventually become unavoidable.

In the end, what is clear is that invisibility can be either a tool of privilege or a tool of subjection. And “the invisible” are not so much invisible as that we see the world through the wrong “lenses”. That is why my goal is to generate contexts and strategies that help to collectively unveil these hidden realities and, by doing so, improve our understanding of the world around us.

The time was 8 p.m. I was just leaving a collective exhibition at a gallery in Madrid, following months in which my life had been reduced to the walls of my home and the supermarket. I suddenly found myself strolling down a noisy thoroughfare buzzing with cars, a strange feeling invading my body. It was a transit point between offices and a bus station, the main gateway to the centre of the city. I felt as if it had been decades since the last time I crossed that avenue.

As I walked down the street, I became conscious of my surroundings. A heavily lit building full of empty offices and meeting rooms for lease. A closed discotheque with two gigantic red doors and gold, lion’s head door handles, like the entrance to a scene from “Eyes Wide Shut”. Opposite I saw a popular Chinese restaurant, a cultural hybrid, no doubt financed by an investment fund. Next came an advertising agency, one founded years ago. After, a gym owned by a famous footballer. And lastly, a prestigious business school. As I pressed on down the street, my face gradually changed.

All this caught my attention for one reason: despite their appearance, they were ruins, relics of a bygone time.

I was walking among the vestiges of the past; stones which no longer serve a purpose, yet which are still there. Companies, businesses, current institutions, all ruins at birth. Some had not yet appeared, still do not exist, but when they do, they will already be ruins.

What is the reason for this? Why are they the ruins of an historical period which continues to exist?

Because the pillars propping them up have crumbled, and nobody has noticed. They are invisible ruins, and do not make it easy to move beyond individualism, precariousness, competition, status, the colonising effect of globalisation, cultural impoverishment, body worship, glory.

For in the midst of the climate crisis and the death throes of the neoliberal system, we need businesses that defy norms and the logic of productivity and growth, which are conscientious and not only coexist with reality, but help to regenerate it. Businesses which endeavour to be the architectures of the future. Or to be aliens that are not of this world, but of other far-away and highly distinct worlds. All this I found in the multiple artistic discourses on display hours earlier, in the exhibition.

So I continued to walk home, with my head someplace else, trying to come to grips with what had just happened.

When I got home, I realised that I had opened my eyes, that this had been an awakening.

Did we just witness another example of a fictional story willing itself into existence? Would GPT-4o have been possible without the film “Her” first raising this fictional issue? One explanation lies in the concept of “hyperstition”.

A “hyperstition” is an idea or belief that becomes real through its influence and capacity for preparedness and permeates human perceptions and behaviour, effectively bringing about its own reality, despite originally being a story or speculation. The term was coined by Nick Land and other members of the Cybernetic Culture Research Unit (CCRU) at the University of Warwick.

In 2013, US director Spike Jonze shocked audiences with “Her”, a film which combined romance and science fiction in a future that for many people was all too familiar. In this story, we follow Theodore, played by Joaquin Phoenix, a man going through a painful divorce who finds solace in an operating system called Samantha.

The plot immerses us in the sentimental relationship between the pair, showing how their connection evolves from mere human-machine interaction to a profound love affair.

What began as a disquieting big-screen story 11 years ago has now become a hyperstitional reality. Yesterday, 13 May, OpenAI presented its most recent development: GPT-4o, an improvement on the artificial intelligence and natural language model that can now handle audio, video and text in real time. This breakthrough represents a major step towards materialising concepts that were once relegated to the realm of science fiction.

By reflecting on the role of films and audiovisual narratives as vehicles for exploring possible futures, it is clear that the line between fiction and reality is becoming increasingly blurred. These stories not only predict but hasten the appearance of certain realities, gearing development towards specific futures at the expense of others.

The announcement of technology such as GPT-4o is a clear example of how what was once speculation is today a reality.