Progress, while explaining and organizing the past, also establishes an imperative within our global society—one that shapes all possible ways of life we might have. It is a constant call, pointing toward the direction our existence should take, both on an intimate, individual level and within the social sphere. While the myth of progress is upheld by the idea that every future can be better—and from this belief, all its practices are justified—Sebastián finds it more important to become aware of the present as a more meaningful horizon, one that enables alternative paths and, as a result, can open new possibilities for human existence.

It is often said that progress in science and technology is cumulative, while in politics and ethics, it is cyclical. This has historically created an almost contradictory tension, where the driving force of one side is the failure or insufficiency of the other. However, Sebastián’s stance is not a regressive one—he is not an anti-science, anti-technology, or anti-projection artist. Instead, he seeks to pose questions where common sense has already dictated answers, aiming to challenge the rhythms of life that progress has constructed and the consequences it brings—and will bring—if left unchallenged.

What Still Remains brings together Sebastián’s most recent artistic explorations, all of which share a critical perspective on the relationship between progress and the environment. Throughout the exhibition, concrete emerges as a recurring material, embodying a sign of the dominion that human civilization exerts over the natural landscape—a medium that represents progress itself. Yet, in Sebastián’s work, concrete also signifies ruin, fragility, and the traces that reveal the inherent contradictions of our current way of life. Simultaneously, water is invoked in every piece. For Sebastián, it is the essence of life, yet within the exhibition, it serves as a stark contrast to the aridity of the artworks, to the death they seem to foretell.

Nevertheless, Sebastián’s creative ideas are not apocalyptic. His work is not a pessimistic reflection of what we are destined to become. Instead, this exhibition adopts a contemplative tone—it is an interpretation of what we are today, of how we exist now. Focusing solely on what we are bound to lose has not been enough to bring about change; rather, it has numbed us. Likewise, fixating only on what we have already lost mainly generates feelings of guilt and defeat—emotions that rarely inspire action. But recognizing what still remains, what has survived and can still be protected, what we become when we learn to relate differently to our environment—this is the artist’s proposition, and the invitation extended through his exhibition.