TOMÁS SARACENO’S STUDIO, in a gritty japanese district of Berlin, stands on harmful floor. After a lot more than a century of industrial use, the land was saturated with contaminants. When Saraceno took around the derelict brick setting up in 2012, the sale arrived with limits. “They explained, ‘Please really don’t plant apple trees close to the street,’” he recalled, mainly because “‘people will try to eat an apple and be poisoned.’” For an artist preoccupied with ecological concerns, intense environmental degradation can be inspiring. When I frequented him in November, Saraceno was drying autumn leaves and urgent poppy bouquets gathered from the assets. A person of the prior occupants…