2014.08.16 - 2014.09.21
Everything’s mine but just on loan,
Nothing for the memory to hold,
Though mine as long as I look.
- Wislawa Szymborska, “Travel Elegy” (translated by Stanislaw Baranczak & Clare Cavanagh)
Anything can be poetic for a poet who embraces life. An artist can also turn taboos and closing of wounds into creative signifiers in defiance of life's shortcomings. The deeper one mine ones' pains and sorrow, the greater ability one would have to touch others. In retrospective, how do we know whether what belong to us are actually what they are? Or are they genuine feelings of the present moment? There are invisible wounds even in the most protected individuals, thus the incessant urge to speak - to heal the fear of isolation.
Artist CHEN Yun （陳云）defaced her works with the innermost cries in the form of repetitive sentences and self-muttering. The memoranda of emotions as such, transmutes anxiety and sense of loss onto paper offering dummies whose shapes, gestures and sounds are freeze-framed in constriction. An invisible soul clung to these petrified exhibits in intimate company, pouring forth words from dialogue accumulated since long. The rumination of memories may represent a lack of affect, the fear of losing one's guardian patron or the apprehension of not being able to guard Him instead, but whether one is asking or giving, both excavate concealed love.
CHANG En-Tzu’s（張恩慈）works speak in a linear manner. The stitching is a metaphor of caressing wounds where memories wash and leave marks on each point of touch. As with the disorderly push-pull of life experiences, sight lines are trailed from the eyes and strands of somniloquy pour forth from the mouth in an attempt to tame unsettling memories. With each steady, silent stitch through the canvas, the unbearable memories revisit the tightrope of creative work, which in turn produces further disquietude and loss.