Solo Exhibition, 2024
Family is an exhibition intertwining a series of untitled work into an installation: a stop-motion 3D animated film (11:56 min), a hand-traced wall text, and a live performance (11:56 min), made to explore themes of routine, detachment, and the uncanny within family life.
The video introduces a stone as an unexpected guest in a family’s living room, rolling through the space and engaging each family member in a surreal choreography of movement, set to shifting musical pieces. On the wall, spanning two-thirds of the exhibition space, a text unfolds in seven parts, recounting fragmented, dreamlike vignettes where the mundane slips into the surreal. And finally, during the opening, a live performance was presented, mirroring the rhythm of the editing and sound of the film, with dance movements and a deadpan expression that echoed the animated figures.
One of the seven wall texts:
An inflatable electric guitar, made out of plastic, lies in the middle of the floor in my grandpas living room, and as he opens the window to let in some fresh air, the wind catches the guitar and pushes it to the opposite side of the room. My grandpa then walks over to that side and opens a window there, and then that wind pushes the guitar back in the opposite direction. As the guitar reaches the middle of the room once again, both winds push it with equal strength, causing it to lift from the floor and hover in mid-air. My grandpa then walks over to the middle of the room and lies down on his back underneath the hovering guitar. He stays like that for a couple of days, looking at the bottom of the inflatable guitars green surface and tiny black warning-text. When the sun is up, he can see his own face in its shiny surface - his small glasses and big, wrinkly nose. When the sun goes down, he can barely see anything. However, after gazing at the guitar for so many hours, he still knows exactly where it is, even in the dark. He knows it so well that he can put his index finger and thumb close to his right eye, and when the sun rises, the guitar slowly appears exactly between his two fingers. On the fifth day, the winds stop blowing, and the inflatable guitar falls down, hitting my grandpa softly on the nose. My grandpa then gets up, deflates the guitar, rolls it up, and puts it in the cabinet underneath the TV.
