In recent years, my opinion to art and attitude of creation has changed dramatically. The primordial importance that I once placed to the personal creation no longer considered that important to me. To let myself go now even makes me feel easier and more comfortable. The Exhibition “Oh, Formosa” at IT Park in 2009 has already revealed such a change.
All objects in this exhibition as well as the old pictures in “Oh, Formosa” are the fruits of my stroll through the flea market. Some of them came from the antique dealer who acquired them after the demolition of old houses. Old objects do not necessarily attract me. That means that not everything goes. My choices are made under certain implicit conditions. They generally have no symbolic meaning. While what I was looking for are objects covered with the marks of time, I was not interested in the "cumulative" time which communicates a long history, but in the "closed" time which goes far beyond our contact. That makes what we face are not just old objects, but time packets closed in their halo of age glowing around them.
These objects that are abandoned and then found unexpectedly, or more precisely, this pile of time packets that is murmuring alone, seems full of messages, but paradoxically conveys only a bunch of messages with no exact meaning. We can scarcely piece together the puzzle and try to track the broken messages. A track with no end of meaning.
Despite every effort on my part to release the abandoned shells from their original contexts, they are only proven to get even more tenacious. These old objects left at some point in time may appear even more harsh to the people here who keep on abandoning and accelerating. The never ending abandonment is driven by fear of abandonment, just like the discomfort and embarrassment caused by the old cell phones.
It is none other than to reveal the trace of time that people confront with the arrangement of the abandoned old objects in the exhibition and their compositions in the images. People keep abandoning to avoid seeing traces of their own history, but their predicament may yet be witnessed through the trace accidentally preserved by the abandoned objects: to keep abandoning for fear of being abandoned, especially for a group of people having neither past nor future and exiled from himself.
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