Cry On Cue ฉากเรียกน้ำตา

The Container (2026) Working Robot vacuum moving around glass containers filled with water

Sunday Evening (2026) Recorded device in a blue pillar surrounded by four printed-text on fabric walls

White Building (On the Installation)

In the absence of the artist, the stage itself performs, even inviting its surroundings to make a jam session; anyone who comes within range is turned into a performer. The word stage thus functions as both a noun and a verb; it ‘acts’ through its very ‘inaction.’ The ‘stage’ is ‘staging,’ so to speak; it jazzes a field of relations that calls for the other’s mingling.

What, then, might breathe life into this seemingly inert stage to be awakened from its lifelessness, if not the enchanted kiss of true love—a brief contact between the spectator’s body and the exhibition space, when each becomes aware of and attends to the other’s presence. In such an encounter, the stage is no longer a site where the performance occurs; it is a performer in its own right that, in turn, makes performers of us.

Black Box (On the Live Performance)

Instead of translating the artist’s dream faithfully as a reenactment of the scene, the Black Box utilizes the score as a trigger of chance, creating a space for ‘transformation’— from dreams to words, and from words to events. Although the artist’s dream remains traceable through the score and the set, the traces operate as ‘co-performers’ alongside the artist and the audience. Here, transformation emanates from a community that involves the artist’s personal fragments, the lives within the Black Box, and the unknown potential of the evolving performance.

In this sense, the Black Box offers an inquiry into what people, dreams, space, time, and objects once were, and what they are capable of becoming when transformation is placed at the heart of existence within an entanglement of relations. This condition gives rise to the possibility of a lively event: a vibration, an energy, interactions, or maybe ‘nothing’ at all.