A few architectonic shots, graphics of abstract shapes that slowly turn into recognizable images, pictures of facades, and descriptive texts. Perel goes back to the lot were the Clandestine Center of Detention, Torture, and Extermination –the ESMA– once operated. But this time, his approach is different. Not only because it goes into it from a physical perspective that is different from its entry into social imaginary, but also because his approach aims to contemplate not so much the building of a new place, but the destruction of space. This annihilation, Perel seems to be saying, tears down a lot more than just columns, cement, and metal beams. Between the River Plate and a city that gives his back and misses out on everything that happens, Tabula rasa takes less than an hour to rescue a fraction of the urban landscape (the back of the Navy School) that remains anonymous to most citizens who pass through that fraction of the Lugones Avenue. And once it recognizes it, it forces us to rethink the connections between memory, space and society.