REWIND / DECAY
2018 November - 2019 March
In response to Art, Space and Nature programme field trip to Isle of Lewis and Harris
A cyclical essay with charcoal from burnt wood, found at Luskentyre beach (Outer Hebrides, Scotland), being ‘processed’ in one art work REWIND, then returned to the islands in new form, another work WE WILL ALWAYS DECAY (…THEN REGENERATE). Gradually, it will be blurred by the breeze from human movement. A process about accumulating, transforming, decaying and vanishing, and other things after that.
Performance/Installation, Collected Items
"UMWELT", Tent Gallery, Edinburgh, UK
This work is an experiment of regressing to different stages of burning and showing the accumulation of time. It was presented as a process for 10 days in Tent Gallery, Edinburgh. Each day, a part of the burnt wood was chipped off. On the last day of exhibition, the original texture of the wood was revealed completely, and charcoal was placed beside as a visible record of time. The charcoal from burnt wood was then used as the material of next work which was exhibited in An Lanntair, Stornoway (Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides).
We tend to not notice time passing by because we are too familiar with it. Therefore, instead of creating anything new, I intend to address people’s attention by ‘reducing’. By cutting off the charcoal from a burnt wood, I raise a question about how to feel the mass/direction/speed of time. Burning is a process that could not actually be reversed, it’s fast and fierce. However, through the process of rewind, we might be able to put things back to peaceful status.
We Will Always Decay (...Then Regenerate)
Installation, Collected Items (Charcoal from REWIND)
"Testimony from the Rocks", An Lanntair, Stornoway, UK
The work is the second part of this project. It is a text piece made by grounded charcoal and placed on the gallery floor. It is a sculpture keep moving and vanishing, it differs at every second just like the water in a river, or the blood in our vein. After a while, it was blurred by the breeze from human movement. Then a part of it was sent back to Edinburgh, a part of it was swept into the bin, and a part of it was already spread in the air and floated to somewhere far. The question attached to it is “Where does everything go eventually?” I couldn’t know, because there is no end for the elements on earth. The text may turn invisible, but the charcoal carries on and become something else. For nothing can ever truly disappears.
I thought about this present moment, the next moment, and the next moment after that which will never stop. So we grow, mellow, decay, and then regenerate into something seems to be brand new.