Fractured Lenses


Imagine navigating unfamiliar terrain, equipped only with fragments of a tattered map and limited knowledge of the landscape. In such wilderness, we interpret the colors of the sky and trees, understand the interplay of light and shadow on the terrain, read road signs, ascertain the sun's relative position, and identify various kinds of plants and soil. Now, consider playing GeoGuessr—a game that beckons us to identify our standing in the world through the prism of Google Street View. Just as we decode the real world around us, our pupils flit across the screen in rapid oscillations, identifying colors, letters, and patterns. Each element becomes a clue to identify one thing: "Where we are." Just as we weave through GeoGuessr's curated Earth, stitching together clues from pixels and terrains, we, as navigators in the complex topography of human existence, have the instinct to identify, understand, and communicate with the other engraved within us.

       In this vein, contemplating elusive affirmations like "I (you) perceive and understand you (me)" might be a meaningful endeavor. This is because these phrases might serve as a singular destination for those of us who are voraciously hunting for meaning to fill our existential void. Yet, as we endlessly scroll and click in a futile search for such elusive affirmations, we find ourselves chasing illusions that, much like fireworks, burst into view only to quickly fade away, leaving nothing but smoke—reminiscent of the "blue flower."[1] Yes, we're hunting ghosts of 'understanding each other.' Even when we stumble upon such markers of understanding, their significance is often fleeting, resembling a ghost who quickly fades from sight. Or perhaps, the precious moment we'd wished to hold onto forever gradually fades away, its definitive marker, in which we'd believed, becoming a dim memory. This leaves us in a recursive loop, retracing our steps in a never-ending quest for symbols that might alleviate our collective, deeply situated loneliness and sadness. In this pursuit, the clues of each other's understanding become elusive, slipping through our grasp. In this wilderness of life, for those who endure this sadness, I would like to call them persons holding a 'fractured lens,' with each attempt further fracturing their lens.

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In the space where you are standing is a constellation of nameless works. In this 'Untitled' area, there are four photographs, either dramatically magnified or minuscule—all aligned with the horizon. In this wilderness, standing at the same horizontal line, you may perceive only a fragment, or perhaps nothing comprehensible, of the four artworks on display. This is because there is no grand, universal standpoint from which the essence of all four pieces can be clearly identified or understood, nor can one apprehend the four visual enigmas at once. For example, to fully appreciate the large image that fills one wall, you need to distance yourself; up close, you'd only see the halftone dots that constitute it. On the other hand, if you're near the wall to examine a detailed image of a burning canvas on water, the larger image becomes a blur again. If you then step back to see the large image from a distance, the image of the burning canvas becomes a mere blotch of red.
In order to fully appreciate the four unnamed works, our viewpoint must be as shattered as a 'fractured lens,' recognizing that no single piece of knowledge or interpretation is absolute in itself. Instead, complete understanding emerges only within particular contexts and locations.[2] In this way, the diversity of 'lenses' fosters a range of perspectives and interpretations, each of which gains clarity in varying contexts and locations. Just as with our individual 'fractured lenses,' the essential fragmentation guides us not toward distortion but toward multiplicity—toward the appropriate and distinct locations that offer interpretations as varied as we are.

       Returning to our relentless scrolling, our interminable attempts at meaning, we as the sad creatures realize this is not a futile expedition. The 'fractured lenses' we hold open up different layers of myriad readings, contextual understandings, and most vitally, modes of relational communication, just as an image sharpens or blurs with distance. Like the pixels in a photo that either sharpen or blur depending on distance and the endless clues that require a complex interpretive framework for spatial understanding, our fractured lenses necessitate fragmented, situational approaches for true comprehension. This is not a mere methodology, but an ethos that recognizes the relativity and imperfection inherent in all of us. In this infinite journey towards understanding, we unearth not despair but a lush landscape of possibilities. Although "the naïve act of communication is lost—this is why we cry,"[3]—I (you) now repeat the phrases: "I (you) perceive and understand you (me)." Right here, among the nameless works, I (you) willingly lift the fractured lens, place it directly in front of our eyes, and gaze intently upon you (me).



[1] The 'blue flower' is a metaphor for unattainable ideals or desires. The imagery is borrowed from Novalis's unfinished novel Heinrich von Ofterdingen (1802), where the 'blue flower' stands as a symbol for romantic yearning and has since become iconic in German Romanticism.
[2] This concept is largely influenced by Donna Haraway's work on situated knowledges. See Haraway, Donna. 'Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective.' Feminist Studies, vol. 14, no. 3, 1988.
[3] Geert Lovink, ‘Sad by Design’, Eurozine, 10 January 2019, https://www. eurozine.com/sad-by-design/.



Exhibition view: Group Exhibition, The Part In The Story Where Our Accumulating Dust Becomes A Mountain, Seoul Museum of Art (7 December 2023–3 March 2024). Courtesy Seoul Museum of Art. Photo: Cocoa Pictures.