For little money, a used kitchen worktop changes its owner and environment. Starting at the older, refurbished middle-class buildings of Prenzlauer Berg, going past the hip ice cream parlours with tussled Hawaiian sunshades, a boy and a woman in her twenties are carrying the newly purchased and slightly dilapidated worktop to the fringes of Berlin. The high summer midday heat makes the sweat roll into their eyes and the noise of the construction sites swallows the last speech fragments as the lines of cars pushes them into ever smaller corridors. Three Trees Don’t Make a Forest subtly describes a classist and neoliberal city architecture which develops a centrifugal force that inevitably pushes the precariously living inhabitants to the outside.