In Justine Ferrer’s hands, sound slips its constraints. Searching for the fault lines,those fragile zones where rhythm fractures and where dissonance swells.

Guided more by tension than control, she sidesteps the cult of precision, letting cracks in the system speak louder than its structure. Her sets unfold like shifting terrains, where human and machine blur into hybrid textures, glitch becomes language, error becomes movement.

Somewhere between weight and rush, resistance becomes a pulse.