In 1938, Fascist volunteers from the Antrodoco Forestry Academy planted 20,000 Austrian spruce trees on Mount Giano in central Italy, and the trees formed the word ‘Doge’ (Duce, Mussolini's nickname in Latin). Meanwhile, in 1970, coinciding with the 100th anniversary of Lenin's birth, a Soviet forestry brigade created a huge geoglyph with thousands of black pine trees next to the Siberian town of Tyukalinsk to form the Bolshevik leader's nickname written in Cyrillic.

Both interventions on the landscape - produced by antagonistic regimes but conceived with striking similarity - exceeded their executors' own forecasts for their durability, surviving even the regimes of both ideologues and surviving to the present day. The geoglyphs, almost as if they were archaeological evidence of the mass movements of the twentieth century, also operate as a kind of palimpsest, in which debates about their destruction or permanence intermingle with the fires and successive restorations of a legacy that we still find problematic today.

Carrasco's diptych, which takes as its title a quotation from Henry David Thoreau's famous Walden, contrasts both satellite images with their respective geographical coordinates in an exercise of reflection on the political intervention of the landscape, the ideological battles of the 20th century, megalomania and the cult of personality.