Concrete Dialogue is a public projection to the facade of Harvard’s Carpenter Center for the Visual Arts, the only building on the North American continent designed by the famous architect Le Corbusier. The architecture is a compilation of his concrete forms. The light-colored concrete reflects morning sun and captures afternoon shadows from trees and surroundings, and the curved surfaces compress or elongate these shadows, giving them visual life as the angle of the sun changes.
The projection overlays the concrete texture on the ramp to the concrete texture on the square grid walls, creating a dialogue between the two. The projected texture syncs with the movement of the performer ascending and descending the ramp, back and forth, caressing the architecture body. The sound of foot steps creates a symphony, an impressive experience, and a sequence of spatial events with the ramp — the heart of the building that encourages public circulation and provides views into the studios without interrupting the activities in progress.
The performance and projection Eye inquires the invisible surveillance in our daily life. Endless censorship, overwhelming data, social media, even technology, especially in the form of wearable cameras and computers, are detrimental and leave people without any privacy in public and private space. We are voluntarily and involuntarily exposed to the eyes of others. The omnipresent surveillance which regulates all public and private spheres of citizen's life brings us back to the time of “1984”.
Inside this private room, she is trapped under the inescapable gaze of the eye. She walks around to test it — the eye steadfastly staring back at her. She tries to disrupt it, hide from it, tear it off, yet the eye is unaffected. She discovers the way to cover it by her shadow, but the eye appears on her body instead — she can never get rid of it. Utterly desperate, she pulls down the blind — suddenly, the light from outside kills the eye. She opens the window. With a self-satisfied smirk flickered at the corner of her mouth, she jumps out. She seems successfully escaped, but we never know what’s outside.
Advisor: Krzysztof Wodiczko