Giulia M May 2026

She returned to the Lambrate warehouse and began her most ambitious work yet: The Unfinished City . The Unfinished City is not a single artwork. It is a series of twelve installations, each housed in a different abandoned building across Milan. Each installation corresponds to one of the city's neglected senses: the sound of a tram line that no longer exists, the smell of the Navigli canals before they were covered, the texture of a cinema carpet from 1974.

After a restless stint at the Brera Academy, where she abandoned painting for found-object installation, Giulia vanished from the art school circuit. For three years, she worked as a night janitor in a neuroscience lab. By day, she slept. By night, she watched EEG readouts and collected discarded lab equipment: PET scan films, broken oscilloscopes, vials of saline. giulia m

"Fashion wants the aesthetic of depth without the weight," she says now, not bitterly but factually. "I don't make decoration. I make rituals." She returned to the Lambrate warehouse and began

She lives alone with a blind cat named Zero and a piano she cannot play but claims to "listen to." She rises at 4:00 AM daily. She does not own a smartphone. She corresponds by handwritten letter. Giulia M. has just announced her first major museum exhibition outside Europe: at the Museum of Jurassic Technology in Los Angeles, followed by the Barbican in London. The work, titled A Dictionary of Lost Touches , will consist of 100 small machines, each designed to replicate a touch that no longer exists: the feel of a payphone receiver, the snap of a VHS clamshell case, the weight of a car ashtray. Each installation corresponds to one of the city's

Others accuse her of what they call "aesthetic melancholy"—a fetishization of decay that mistakes sadness for profundity.