Ice Computer presents an impossible scene somewhere between technological archaeology, pop still life and dry humour. The series starts from a simple idea: objects that once embodied the future —personal computers, players, consoles, tapes, instant cameras— now appear as domestic relics, machines that promised permanence but have been turned by time into almost museum-like pieces. Against that logic of obsolescence, the project introduces an absurd and sensual gesture: covering technology with ice cream, cream and glossy liquids, as if the end of innovation were not recycling, but a sticky, colourful and slightly decadent celebration. The result works as a visual tribute to the gadgets that defined an era, but also as a sharp little joke about contemporary technological fetishism.
The art direction is built on the contrast between precision and excess. The composition is clean, frontal and advertising-driven, with controlled lighting that treats each object as if it were still desirable, almost premium, while organic matter invades everything with a viscous, edible texture. The saturated colours —yellows, electric greens, pinks and creamy beiges— reinforce a retro-pop aesthetic connected to the eighties and nineties without falling into literal nostalgia. Ice Computer does not look at the past with solemnity, but with irony: if every device is destined to become obsolete, perhaps the most elegant way out is to age with style, transformed into dessert, monument and visual joke all at once.