When we enter an exhibition by Alberto Lezaca, we seem to enter one of the apartments of the High Rise of J G Ballard's novel. The visual references we receive, the flat colors, the color range, even the mechanistic air of the images, make us think of a future, somewhere between residential and dystopian. Immediately after that first impression we realize the uselessness of the objects around us, their coldness, contrary to any imaginable use, their impossibility even.